Dark Sylvia's WIP's 2

Title: Random WIP's
Author: darksylvia

(This one is also from sweetestdrain's googlism challenge, so don't worry, I'm not insane)

Justin is an ardent ornithologist and has only recently discovered a new species of bird at the abbey. He studies it through a pair of binoculars, squinting when the bird angles itself towards the sun. He decides he’ll name it Gus.

He then takes out his camera and prepares to get a close-up shot before the perfect light goes away. Just as his finger is pressing down on the button, Senior Pastor Brian walks by the bush where the bird was perched. Was because said undiscovered species of bird has now flown off.

“Fucking GOD damn it!” explodes Justin. Senior Pastor Brian raises an eyebrow.

“Three hours of penance for that, Taylor. On your knees.” And then Brian opens his mouth and starts making that creepy screeching noise that the pod people in Invasion of the Body Snatchers made, and Justin breaths a sigh of relief. Somehow, aliens seem less horrifying than priesthood.

A second later, he twitches awake and jumps a mile when Brian throws an arm over him to slap the alarm clock into silence.
Then he starts to laugh and spends the rest of the morning refusing to explain what he’s laughing about.

(This was an alternate to the Too Hot story I wrote, because I switched randomly to Brian's POV, realized, and the two stories split:)

My boss is a bastard, he thought. And then smiled to himself because that’s what all of Brian’s employees thought, too. He was an equal opportunity bastard, and didn’t exempt himself from himself.

“I’m never moving again,” Justin announced. Brian didn’t even glance, because he knew he’d see a mostly-naked Justin stretched out on hard wood, and it would distract him immeasurably. Bribery was in order so that he could finish this stupid campaign.

“Then it will be difficult for you to get to the car so that we can go get ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” Brian didn’t have to look to know that the blond head had popped off the floor and was angled his way in interest. Brian smiled to himself some more. Justin didn’t act young much anymore and mostly Brian was as intrigued by the older Justin as he’d been by the younger one. But it was nice to know that the younger one was still in there somewhere, lured out by ice cream and occasionally tickling.

“Yes,” said Brian. “I know there's a Cold Stone somewhere around here.”

“Do you think anyone will mind if I go like this?” Justin stood behind the couch and Brian looked at him this time. He was wearing a thin pair of Calvin Klein underwear and a t-shirt that looked leftover from his days as a twink.

“I think the policy is ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’, but they say nothing about pants.” Fuck the ads, he thought, and slid an arm around Justin, yanking him down over the back of the couch and onto Brian’s lap. Justin let out a surprised breath.

"Hey!" Justin yelped and laughed and tried to twist away as Brian tickled him mercilessly in the ribs. Brian figured it was fair. They'd both had younger sisters to practice on, but he did have the slight advantage of being better able to control himself. The less reaction you gave, the less fun you were to tickle. Justin was a lot of fun. He choked and laughed and thrashed around wildly, trying to say things like "fuck" and "stop", but never able to really say them in the midst of laughing.

It also gave Brian a reason to touch him, everywhere. It wasn't that Brian couldn't touch him everywhere anytime he wanted, but it was a different kind of touch than when he was trying to seduce Justin. Though it was moving that way fairly quickly, with Justin sprawled over him, gasping and laughing hot breath in his ear. He slowly stopped tickling and started stroking his fingers all over. Over Justin's hips, across his stomach, up the smooth skin of his chest and the utterly soft skin of his throat. He tugged Justin's shirt over his head.

Justin stopped struggling and was sitting still in Brian's lap, looking content and lazy, eyes closed. The heat had made Justin flushed, and Brian caught a small drop of sweat as he ran his hands down Justin's back. He trailed his hands lightly over Justin's ass, the barrier of his underwear kind of interesting, and let his fingers graze softly down the middle, enjoying the way Justin's breath caught.

Brian watched Justin's face, intrigued as always by the expressions he could coax out of him: open-mouthed pleasure, half-smiles, eyes fogged with lust. He dragged the waistband down slowly, letting each stretch of flesh reveal itself, until he had to unhook Justin's hardening cock from the confines of the cloth. Justin's eyes flew open and he looked Brian in the eye before leaning in to take Brian's mouth.

Justin had a really skilled mouth, a plush mouth, a mouth that knew what to do by instinct. Brian had noticed that the first time he kissed Justin. Their mouths seemed to communicate better than they did, sometimes. It wasn't like kissing other people where Brian had to take the lead to get what he wanted out of them. Where he had to command with his mouth how they should behave. With Justin, he fitted. It was more natural, more effortless than breathing. Their mouths pressed together, their tongues slid and thrust and teased.

He might have gone on kissing and groping Justin forever, like a horny fifteen year old, if Justin hadn't wrapped his arms around Brian's neck and leaned backwards, dragging them both slowly off the couch, on to the floor, where they lay on crumpled ad mock-ups that stuck to them because of the heat.

Justin licked his jaw and said, "Find a condom. I want your dick inside me now."

"Yes Mr. Taylor, sir,," he heard himself mock. But he was only half paying attention because the way Justin was arching himself up was very distracting. He pushed off the floor one-handed, grabbed a condom from the coffee table and tossing away his jeans. Then he fell onto Justin again.

He divested Justin of his underwear so fast that he could barely remember getting them off and then he'd put the condom on and was slicking Justin with his own spit, watching Justin's face.

"Come on," said Justin, licking his lips. "You aren't getting any younger." Brian pinched him and grinned.

"Don't make me spank you."

"First fuck me."

Brian certainly wasn't going to argue with that. He positioned himself and started pushing slowly into Justin, who made a hoarse sound and slid his legs and arms around Brian. Brian gripped his hips hard with both hands, digging his fingers in, letting his weight rest fully on Justin. He leaned in and kissed him as thoroughly as he knew how, as his hips started to move. He trapped Justin's cock between their stomachs and thrust harder.

He knew Justin was pretty far gone when he started moaning into Brian's mouth with every thrust. Brian didn't think he could last much longer himself. Just as he had that thought, Justin arched up, sank his teeth into Brian's lower lip, and scratched down Brian's back at the same time, the sneaky little twat. Brian came.

"Jesus," he muttered in surprise, as all his muscles became one muscle and tensed. He felt more than saw Justin's smile. It grew wider when Brian started thrusting again. Justin was so easy. All it took was a well-angled stroke and an open mouthed kiss, and Justin was coming between their sandwiched chests. They lay breathing and sweating and waiting for their heart rates to calm down for a few moments, before Justin wriggled out from under him.

"I believe you promised me ice cream," he said, smiling his widest sunshine smile, just before he threw Brian's jeans at his head.

(Nothing happens in this. It is a non-story. Someday, I might revisit this with actions instead of thoughts.)

I’ve never really been jealous of Michael. Not really. He takes up a certain space in Brian’s life, and I can see the extent of that space, even if Michael couldn’t always.

See, I figure that if Michael couldn’t fuck Brian in fourteen years worth of trying and hoping, then I don’t have a lot to worry about. Being so close to the problem--if you want to call Brian a problem--Michael doesn’t get the whole picture.

And that whole picture is this: Brian Kinney is a coward. Not in the normal sense--he’ll do and say things that would make any one else pass out from the sheer anxiety. He’ll take any drug, drink enough to pickle himself, and fuck multiple strangers all without a thought for his personal safety. But emotionally, Brian is a big fat wimp. It’s not entirely his fault, of course, but there it is. Michael watched him develop into one, in self-defense, so it’s harder for him to see what needs to be done.

Not that it’s always easy for me, but once I figured it out, it was easier to catch--and it paid off, because I’ve taught Michael to see it sometimes, too, like when I was so hurt from the cancer that it took Michael to clue me into what was going on in Brian’s cowardly head.

It’s so weird to think of Brian like that--I mean, he’s the guy who stood in front of his boss and client naked while they realized he had betrayed them, never even flinching, and then came back to fuck me senseless right afterwards, as if nothing had happened. But the fear is there. You can see it in his eyes sometimes, whenever an emotion blindsides him.

He has two reactions: He either immediately gets angry (for instance, most encounters with his mother), or he closes down and goes all calculating, soon followed by something explosively, cunningly mean (see: the zuccini man). If he’s having a particularly rough day, he can sometimes swing both at once. It’s kind of amazing to watch, actually.

So, there’s a lot of upkeep and a need for clever ways around Brian’s phobias, because anything that remotely threatens Brian’s position of wobbly arrogance will be attacked. Michael never threatened Brian, so he never had to deal with the cowardly side, and he never had a clue how to really get through to him, get him to feel.

Their relationship is based on a frozen thing, a comfort in the bad time of adolescence, and it’s stayed intact because of being frozen. I mean, if they met today anyone could see Brian wouldn’t give Michael a second glance.

But the fact is, they DO have the relationship and it IS necessary, and I can see that. Brian needs it. With Brian and I, it’s never been about need. It’s been about what we both want. Michael takes up his space in Brian’s life, I take up mine.

So I’m not jealous of Michael. I’m way too well loved. And fucked.

(Brian in drag. Don't hate me. Sweetestdrain practically dared me, even though she probably never knew it, since I was only lurking on her journal at the time. I just wanted to see if I could DO it.)

“I can’t fucking believe this,” said Brian.

“You don’t have to believe it,” replied Emmett, carrying a feather boa. “You just have to work it.” Justin burst in the door of Michael and Ben’s apartment and trotted over to where Brian was sitting looking pissy on the couch.

“Here,” Justin said. “See if these fit.” He handed over a pair of sparkly red high heels. Brian accepted them with a twist of his mouth and then quirked an eyebrow when he noticed Justin staring at him. “What?”

Justin grinned. “You look hot in eyeliner.”

“I look hot in everything,” he said, as he turned back to Emmett. “Except that. I’m not wearing a boa. There’s a fine line between a Queen and a circus performer, and there is no way in hell I’m letting you push me over it.”

“Fine, Ms. Kinney,” said Emmett, tossing the boa aside. “It would have been a stunning addition, but I can see you’re not ready for it.”

“I’m not ready for any of this.”

“It was your idea,” put in Justin. Brian glared. He was hot when he glared, too. That just made Justin smile more widely, remembering the pot and the little wagger from Michael that had started this. Justin leaned down and kissed Brian, deciding he’d better get it in before the lipstick went on. Brian kissed him back for a minute before turning away to get a cigarette.

“Uh, uh, uh,” said Emmett, snatching it away, and oblivious to the fact that he had been inches away from getting his fingers snapped off. “Not until after the lipstick and the setting-gloss. Brian glared, but gave a resigned sigh and slumped back on the couch.

“Where’s Michael?” Justin asked.

“Princess Mikey is in his room,” said Brian.

“And he’s just adorable!” said Emmett.

With excellent timing, Michael walked out of his room, followed by Ben.

“May I present Ms. Novotny,” said Emmett, holding up his hands at Michael’s entrance. “Wearing an original of mine. And Mr. Bruckner, whom we have to thank for Michael’s fabulous hairstyling.” Ben smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t know you sewed,” said Justin, eyeing Michael in his skintight purple sequined dress.

“Well, I altered, to the point where it was more mine than anybody elses’,” said Emmett. He knelt in front of Brian and applied the lipstick, then the cover coat.

“Okay,” said Brian, leaning forward to strap on his heels. “Let’s get this the fuck over with, before I come to my senses and rip this wig off.” He stood up to reveal the full length of his shimmering red dress. Justin gave a short whistle, then had to stop because he was doing his best to choke down laughter.

“Oh, you can’t rip that wig off,” said Michael, flipping his blond hair over one shoulder. “Because then I would definitely be prettier.”

“Fuck you, I’m going to win,” said Brian. He started for the door and everyone else followed, grabbing coats.

“You so aren’t,” said Michael as they trailed down the hall. “My boobs look lots more real than yours. The judges look for that.”