Chapter 3

Chapter 3.1 Justin's POV

It’s been raining off and on all night. When it rains, it pours.

Nothing is moving fast enough. Nothing. Not my hands, not my feet, not the stairs, not the traffic lights. The rain isn’t even falling fast enough. And the guy who’s in front of me, halfway letting me follow him into the building is definitely moving too slow. He needs to mind his own fucking business.

“You live here?”

“Yeah, move.” I shove past him and take the stairs two at a time until I get to the door.

Fatigue.

Deep breath.

Knock.

Nothing.

I knock again. One. Two. Three. “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” I hear voices.

“Is Hunter here? Is he in his room?”

“It’s Brian. His car’s outside.” And then the chain rattling. And then the door opening. I see Ben’s sleepy face. I hear Michael. The Novotny-Bruckner clan goes to bed early.

“He’s here Ben. He’s in his room.”

“Justin, hey…” I put my hand on the door. I can’t do much more. This is Ben. Getting past him is like getting past the Great Wall of China.

“I need to see Michael. Now.” He yields the door and Michael is standing there, shirtless in sweatpants. His face couldn’t look more lost.

“Hey. What’s up? You look like sh--.”

“Why’d you tell him?”

“Tell him what? Tell who what?” He needs to get that fucking innocent look off of his face.

“Don’t stand there and act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.” Ben looks like he’s watching an exciting game of ping pong, but I know he’ll come to Michael’s rescue any minute.

“Okay, well then I’ll just tell you. I don’t know what the fuck you're talking about." He is so full of shit.

“You had to do it, didn’t you? You had to be the one to tell him what I was doing? You couldn’t let me have one chance, one fucking moment with Brian that was just mine—just ours. You fucking couldn’t do it!” Breathe. My tears competing with my anger. My anger’s winning out. “Fuck you Michael. Fuck. You. And to think that I thought that we were partners, colleagues, on this mother fucking comic book bullshit—but you know what—that’s not even it is it? It’s just another way for you to be involved with him, isn’t it? Well, you can find someone else to illustrate your unfulfilled, unrequited, pathetic excuse for a fantasy life!”

My screaming finally stops because I can’t cry and fuck with my keys at the same time, my wet hands struggling to remove the key to the loft from my key chain. Michael looks dumbfounded as I throw it at him. It hits his chest and lands on the floor, just a few feet where I am now, sliding down the door frame, my face in my hands.

I’m crying so hard I’m choking.

I wait for Michael to say something or Ben to lecture me, but no one says anything. The next time I speak isn’t as loud, but my body keeps jerking from crying so hard.

“Did it dawn on you Michael that I wanted to tell him myself, needed to tell him myself in my own way? That I needed time to figure out how to tell him that I have to leave? Did it?”

Finally, after what seems like fucking forever, Michael speaks too quietly, picking up the key. “I didn’t tell him, and I don’t need this. I have one.”

“You didn’t tell him?” I have the hiccups. Ben brings me some water. Always the healer.

“He already knew.” I look up from my water when I hear a noise. Hunter is standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Is it safe to come out here now? What the fuck is going on?” Christ, the last thing I need is to deal with him. Ben can tell, I guess. He walks into Hunter’s room with him and closes the door.

“So you didn’t tell Brian about your job offer?” Michael attempts to put the pieces together.

“No. I couldn’t figure out how to tell him. If you didn’t tell him, I don’t know how he found out.”

“He knew when he came by the store today. He told me you were taking the job.”

“How the fuck would he know I was taking a job when he didn’t know I had a job to take?” Ben emerges from Hunter’s room checking to see if everything’s calmed down.

“It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” Hunter runs out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. I think I’ve actually seen him wearing clothes inside this apartment once. I’ve seen him in his underwear at least seven. “When Brian came by the store today, I asked him if you were taking the job, and he said you were. So he knew.”

“Well how the fuck did you know? I didn’t tell you about the job offer.” I’m so fucking confused right now. I have a bitch of a headache.

“Brett told me. He called me today…….and told me. Oh, wait….that was when….”

“When what?”

“He was there when I was talking to Brett. I asked him then if you were taking the job. Oh shit. Shit. Justin, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. But why the fuck didn’t you tell him in the first place?” Michael will blame himself for only so long, I guess. I don’t know what to think. I’m really fucking pissed at him right now.

“I have about one hundred and one reasons, but I guess I just don’t want things to change.” He nods. I think he gets it now, feels like he’s felt this way before. “For once, Michael, he’s starting to open up to me. He’s finally letting me love him back. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for that?” I just finished off his box of Kleenex. He lets me love him back in increments, never all at once. He rations it, gives you only what you need to survive. It’s become a comfortable cruelty between us.

“Yeah, I do. You've waited longer than anybody should have to, and longer than anyone else ever would have. Believe me, I know exactly what you mean.” Michael’s walked this path so many more times than I have, but I’m catching up. I know the shortcuts. Ben isn’t in the room right now, but I know that if he was, Michael would've never let those words come out of his mouth. I stand up and hand him his empty Kleenex box. He laughs.

“I’m sorry I came over here and queened out all over your ass.” I am. It wasn’t his fault. He laughs and tells me I’m not getting anywhere near his ass and offers me a brand new box of Kleenex for the road. I decline, but he makes me smile.

“Are you going to be all right?” Fuck if I know.

“Yeah. I just need to clear my head, to think.” I’m in the hallway, ready to leave. He hugs me. I’m pulling away when I remember. “Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“If he calls…”

“Haven’t seen you. You’re not here.”

“Thanks.”

***************************************************************************************************************

There are few things more exhilarating than driving Brian’s corvette, not that I do it often. I can get into his ass quicker than I can get behind the wheel of this car. I feel powerful. In control.

Something about driving back to the loft knowing that he’s waiting for me and not the other way around, gives me a rush. Drive down Liberty Avenue in this car and a hundred guys will cruise you just for the fucking car, or maybe they think I’m Brian Kinney at first glance. That’s probably it. Then they take a better look and think, “Oh, that’s Brian Kinney’s bottom boy.” It pisses me off that I’m so proud of that.

I park in front of the loft to collect my thoughts.

Three cigarettes later and a lot of pacing back and forth in front of our building, and I’m nowhere. Where do I want to be? I can’t answer any of the questions that are cluttering up my brain. And I know if I walk back in there that we’ll be fucking in no time. We’ll never talk. No more pacing during the forth cigarette. Maybe I can think better if I stand still.

Doesn’t matter. Time waits for no man.

He’s standing right in front of me.

It's now or never.

It isn’t like I haven’t been alone in my bed before. Or been alone in my bed or my head right after I’ve fucked him. Or waited for him to get back. Or get home.

I light a cigarette. Stay on my back. Stare at the ceiling. Try to keep my mind on something other than what just happened.

“Yes. That’s all you can say. Just ‘yes.’” He was outlining the rules for the game we were about to play. The game we played last night. Last night wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve never played this game Justin. This ‘yes’ game. How do I know I even want to play it?” I’ve decided that he does this because he knows that I miss the scene. He knows that I want to be at Babylon in the backroom having my dick and my ego stroked at the same time. And he is protecting me from what I really want. He is building a moat around the castle of Brian Kinney. He is guarding the castle with a ferociousness that he cleverly disguises as unwavering devotion. And he knows that I know that he’s doing this, but I will never tell him that I know. And he knows that too. He is a better top than me sometimes, a better parent. There is more irony in this bed sometimes than there is fucking.

It was Wednesday night. And we were home. In bed. I was looking over campaign ideas and Justin was next to me, his head at the foot of the bed, playing with the drawstring on his pants and talking to Daphne on his cell phone. It was distracting but watching his expression change every time she told him something he wasn’t expecting made it all worthwhile. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I wasn’t really getting anything done anyway.

“Where did you meet him Daph?”

“You already fucked him?”

“Daph! I can’t believe you did that! You did not. You did not.”

“Wait, how did you guys?” He leaned on his side for a minute, like he was trying to keep the conversation private.

“Ooooo. That’s the first time you’ve ever done it like that.” My eyebrow goes up. Good thing he’s not looking at me.

“See, I told you that you would like it. That’s why you should listen to me more often.”

“Are you going to see him again? When?”

“Okay.” A pause. He unrolled his drawstring and then rolled it back around his finger.

“It’s him? You’re kidding? Don’t you dare fuck him two nights in a row Daphne. He’ll think you’re a slut.” That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?

“Okay, fine. Call me tomorrow. Bye.”

He rolled back over and looked at me, stretching his arms over his head like a cat. I bit.

“Daphne sounds like quite the sex kitten.”

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Brian. That’s rude.”

“It’s rude for you to be in my bed, making me hard by talking to your hot-het-girlfriend about sexual positions. If you want to get technicial about it.”

“I want to get technical about it.” He sat up.

I put my work down on the floor beside the bed. I was ready to focus on my new project. “Well, for starters, you have no business calling Daphne a slut. You’re much more of a slut than she is.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. And I want to know what sexual positions you are recommending to her.” I really do.

“Why?”

“I’m concerned for her safety and, frankly, I don’t know if I trust your recommendations.” I almost pulled this off convincingly.

“You think you’d be a better advisor?”

"I think I’m more qualified.” I know I am. I think I am. Of course I am.

“Prove it.” What is with him and this “prove it” thing lately? I got up to turn off the lights and started to return to the bed. I do my best work in the dark. My dark brown shirt and black pants hung loosely on my body. I hadn’t even changed out of work clothes when I came home tonight. He rose off the bed, meeting me in the darkness. We couldn’t see each other, our eyes still adjusting when he folded himself into my arms and laid his head against my chest for a few seconds. I let my hand cover his head and stroke his blonde hair. My fingers missing its length. I will be so glad when it all grows back. He had worn my cologne.

The challenge he had just issued me felt like it was waning in the blackness of our bedroom. I wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted or if we were both just smitten for a moment. Either way, I wasn’t going to let him get me off track. I tugged his head tighter to my chest so I could whisper in his ear:

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Huh.” He never quits. The fact that he’s standing in my bedroom four years after we met was testimony to that. He can challenge me without being threatening. A skill few people have. He raised his head to kiss me, and when his lips touched mine, they were strong, and wanting, but not desperate. That is precisely what it is about Justin that kept me here last night and not at Babylon.

When some men kiss you, when they want you, they cannot hide their desperation. It leaks through every move they make while they suck you, bottom for you, and, sometimes, even when they fuck you. They cannot incorporate themselves and their desire. You are always fucking one or the other. It is never that way with Justin. Justin is integrated. Hobbs hit him in the skull with a fucking baseball bat, and he still came back like this. Like the Justin I met that first night. The Justin who stays with you every second for the whole entire ride--even when he doesn’t know where the fuck you’re going.

“Brian. Earth to Brian.” I felt his fingers run over my face. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” It’s always best to stick with the truth, especially when there’s an evil grin on your face.

“What about me?” We had relocated to the bed now. I didn’t remember getting there. I was lying on my back and he was taking off my socks. My eyes had adjusted. I could see him well enough in the darkness.

“Guess.”

“Guess what?” He stopped crawling up my body for a minute.

“Guess what I was thinking about you.”

“No fair.” He pouted a little. Pouting lips in a holding pattern over my zipper. I was about to remind him that he was cleared for take-off. I didn’t get the chance. “I have a better idea.”

Oh great. “What?”

“We’re going to play a game.” And that’s how it started, the “Yes” game. He continued. “I’m going to ask you a question, but the only answer you can give is “Yes.” And you have to answer me, or the game stops. No more fondling, no more sex, no nothing.”

“This is stupid. You made this game up. Probably with Daphne.” He was sitting on top of me and had unzipped my pants. His hand was between my pants and my underwear.

“Are you ready to play?”

“This is dumb.” He took his hand out of my pants, got off of me and moved to his own side of the bed.

I protested. “Justin.”

I was inundated with his bratty determination. Make that accosted. Fine. He won. “Yes.”

He happily jumped back on top of me, his hand back in my pants. I breathed a sigh of relief, which in retrospect, was probably premature.

“Do you want me to take your pants off?”

Deep breath. Eyes rolled. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He was beyond eager. Okay. Beyond adorable.

“Hey, time out.” I made the gesture in the shadows. “I thought this was only questions and ‘yes?’”
“No, you can only say ‘yes.’ I can do whatever I want. And that was your only time out.” He unbuckled my belt. I’d like to use that belt right now. Slid it out of my pants. I heard it hit the floor. He knew that just totally pissed me off. I don’t throw my clothes on the floor.

“Sorry.” He apologized. I rolled my eyes.

“Yes.”

He smacked me on the chest for speaking out of turn, but we were both laughing.

“Don’t do that again Brian.” I tried to stifle it, but he could feel me chuckling underneath him. “Do you promise not to do that again Brian?”

“Yes.” I tried desperately to stop laughing, but so did he. I watched him as he regained his composure. His body aligned with mine. I was kind of bummed that he quit taking my pants off until he started kissing me.

“God, you’re hard Brian,” he breathed into my face as his lips meet mine. He pulled at my bottom lip with his teeth. Drove his tongue softly but firmly into my mouth, encouraged mine to do the same. He ran his hand behind the back of my head to lead me where he wanted me to go. My hand covered his and the other sprinted for his back, for the waistband of his pants. I sparred with his underwear and slid my hand underneath them, resting my hand in the crevice of his perfect bottom. I pressed him to me as hard as I possibly could. It wasn’t enough. I moaned.

“You like my ass, don’t you Brian?” His voice morphed into a seductive whisper. The game had changed. He had changed. He wasn’t goofing around anymore.

“Yes.” Neither was I.

“You want to suck it?”

“Yes.”

“You want to fuck it?”

“Yes.” He hovered above my face, watching me deliver every answer.

“Do you know that I love you?”

“Yes.” He leaned in and kissed me again, and it took everything in my power not to take over right then and there. Everything.

“Your pants are coming off now.” He moved down my body and began unbuttoning my pants. I kind of liked this game, but my frustration level was rising. He laid my pants neatly behind him on the edge of the bed. It made me smile a little. He turned around and took off his long sleeve blue t-shirt. Threw it on the floor. That didn’t bother me. I bent my knees and accepted his body as it fell on top of me again. I absorbed his warmth as he kissed me. Closed my eyes and felt his hands in my hair. My hands returned to their former resting places. Firm in their resolve. When his lips wandered over to my earlobe, I growled a little when his teeth came out.

“Would you rather be at Babylon tonight?”

I forgot what we were doing. I thought we were finished. I was wrong.

“Yes.” I can do this.

“Fucking somebody else?”

“Yes.” His game. His rules. He hesitated for a minute. I felt him lift his face off of my neck. He was thinking. I continued with my attention to his face, his ear, his neck, his shoulder. I can multi-task.

“Are you sorry you brought me home that night?” He wanted to dive head-first into the danger zone. Brave little fucker.

“Yes.”

“Sorry that I let you fuck me?” To kiss me like that and then ask me that question was utterly cruel.

“Yes.” At least my hand was still in his pants.

“You know that I am never going to let you fuck me again, right?”

“Yes.” He began to slide down my torso.

“Do you want me to kiss your chest?”

“Yes.” His lips and hands moved down my chest, and he sucked on my nipples slowly. I kept one hand in his hair.

“Are these goose bumps for me?”

“Yes.” He moaned a little and sucked a little harder, causing me to arch into him. Fucker. I didn’t realize that I was pushing his head lower.

“Are you being impolite and impatient?”

“Yes.” He slapped my hand, and then made fairly quick work of slipping my underwear off my hips and down my long legs. So quick that it surprised me a little. I gasped.

“Did I just hear you moan like a slut?”

Yes. I am done for. Toast.

“Brian.”

“Yes.” I felt his breath on my cock, just his presence in the region was sending me through the stratosphere. My hips would not stop following his face. They were embarrassing me. I felt his fingers drawing lines from my navel to my inner thighs and back up again. Uncle.

“Do you like this?”

“Yes.” His fingers wandered to the wetness I’d created. Finally.

“Do you want me to stop?”

No. No? “Yes.”

“Too bad.” His warm mouth began to cover my cock. My body ignored my mental pleas for restraint and bucked underneath him. I made a noise that I am not entirely proud of.

“Aaaahhaahh.”

“You know that you are a bigger slut than I am, right?”

“Yes.” It was true. He sucked me hard, pressing on the base of my shaft, making me make and break promises in my head over and over. And then he stopped. Christ.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even ask you anything Brian.” He couldn’t hide the satisfaction in his voice. His mouth moved down to my balls, and he took the reigning champion in his mouth and toyed with it with his tongue. I held myself still. If I moved right now, I knew I’d fall off the edge of the world. His lips moved below my balls and I barely heard him.

“Do you want to roll over?”

“Yes.” It was an unfair question on so many levels. I started to roll over, and he stopped me. He unbuttoned the rest of my shirt and helped me take it off. Laid it neatly with my pants. He took the rest of his clothes off. I had forgotten he was wearing anything. He rolled me over gently. I buried my face in my pillow to keep him from hearing all of the other words I was saying besides “yes.”

I closed my eyes. Felt him straddling me. Felt his entire body on top of mine. My shoulders began to get cooler as his body descended to my waist. I felt his firm hands on my back, and I inhaled as I rode the ride they took to my ass. I held my breath. He noticed.

“Can you breathe for me?”

“Yes.” I exhaled. He knew that this was different for me than it was for him. His left hand reached up into my hair, stroking the back of my head. His right hand remained.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes.” I did. Not all the time. Not every night. And not from anyone else.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I didn’t have any other choice, did I? His hands roamed back to their original destination, and I inhaled again as I felt his mouth sucking on the beginnings of my crack. His tongue slid lower, and I pushed my face farther into the pillow. Please. Something inside me quivered, shook, and broke.

“You know what you taste like, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Who the fuck needs anyone else?

I saw something that looked like red, and rain, and anger, and embarrassment, and bravado but I pushed it away as hard as I could. As hard as I could. I thought I smelled liquor on his breath but he was nowhere near my face.


When the only thing I could see behind my eyes was pitch black, I felt him again. Felt him nudging me to lift up. Felt him quietly tucking a pillow underneath my hips. He knows when words are superfluous. And I felt him return to me. Felt my eyes and my hole become warm and open and wet at the same time. And I let them both get soaked.

“You know I am going to fuck you, don’t you?” I was asking the questions now. I reached down between my legs and pulled the pillow away, crashing his staging area. I turned over and pulled him on top of me for the moment, kissing him urgently.

“The rules are still the same Sunshine. You know I am going to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He answered me with the truth.

I kissed him again and again until there wasn’t any part of his face that still tasted like me. His facial expression was a combination of surprise, arousal, and “I’m up for anything.” One of the perks of fucking the young.

“How do you want it?” He gave me a quizzical look. “Sorry. Do you want to be on top?”

“Yes.”

I handed him the condom while I grabbed the lube. He made quick work of his task. On the job training. But that’s the thing about training. It can never prepare you for real life. Sometimes things happen in life that you just weren’t expecting.

“Do you want to get across my lap?” The look on his face. The smirk on mine.

“Yes?”

“Good.” I sat up. He was already on my right side on his knees. I kissed him again and when our lips parted, our eyes didn’t. I looked at him looking at me. He was there. Just like always. My right hand slid down his back a ways and urged him over my lap. He fought me only to the extent that he knew that I wanted him to. The view from this location was breathtaking. I had to force myself to remember the rules of the game.

I ran my hand over his ass and between his legs while looking at his face. His head was turned sideways on the bed, and his face locked on mine. More arousal now, less surprise. My left hand reached underneath him and took his moisture. I ran my hand down the side of his face, letting him hold my fingers in his mouth. My words were gentle.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Time out. I mean really.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know. I won’t let you. I trust you.”

“Time in?”

“Time in.”

My hand went back to his ass. My eyes stayed on his face. I pushed his legs back together. He didn’t like that. He made a pouty face.

“Are you pouting at me?”

“Yes.”

“Because I won’t let you spread your legs?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why I won’t let you spread your legs?”

“Yes?”

“Because you threw my belt on the floor.” I rubbed my hand on his ass slowly. One side and then the other. He was moaning underneath my touch. This was too easy.

“You know I’m going to spank you, right?”

“Yes.” A very hesitant yes.

“And you know why?”

“Yes.” Less hesitation.

I rubbed his ass a few more times and raised my hand up. I glanced at his face. He was watching me like a hawk. I brought it down on his bottom pretty hard to show him that I meant business. Always keeping it balanced. His expression changed. The hue on his ass changed. Everything got a little darker. I liked that.

“You liked that, didn’t you Justin?” I caught that face he makes.

“Yes.”

“Good. So did I.” I stroked his ass again, my hand slipping between his thighs to brush his balls and glide over his cock before I swatted him several more times, not very hard, but hard enough to make him flinch a little bit. Hard enough that my hand print was still there for a few seconds even though my hand was not. My face became mischievous. My dick became cement. I made sure that he could see the pleasure on my face.

“Did that hurt?”

“Yes.” I kept stroking him the entire time. His hand had moved to cover his face.

“Why are you covering your face?”

No response. My fault.

“Are you covering your face because you’re embarrassed?” That was making me harder than anything else right now.

“Yes.” It was making him hard too. Harder. I could feel it on my legs. He was dripping on me.

“Do you know that you’re making a mess?”

“Yes.”

God. I wish I had more patience. I couldn't do this much longer. I covered the hand on his face with my hand and brought my other hand down on his ass a few more times. Our fingers tightened together.

“Do you know that your bottom is all red now?” I licked my lips and raised my eyebrow at him.

“Yes.” Desperation. So underrated.

“Do you know that it’s warm?”

“Yes.” I slid my fingers in my mouth and then down his crack. I had to fuck him soon if I wanted to feel this heat against me. Otherwise, I’d be spanking him again. My wet finger slid past his hole and he couldn’t hide is disappointment. Poor Sunshine.

“Did you want something?”

“Yes.”

“Did you want this?” I slid my finger into his hole and felt him pull me. Slut.

“Yes.” He wanted to say so much more.

“Don’t you think that you’re a bigger slut than I am?”

“Yes.” The moan that left his lips came from some new place inside him. It almost destroyed me.

“That’s what I thought.” I entered him with more and didn’t argue with him when he broke the rules and called out my name.

“Get on me.” I ordered him. I found the lube while he straddled me. My slippery fingers confirmed what I already knew while his lips devoured mine. He was ready. So was I.

I watched the look on his face as he started to take my cock. His eyes fluttered as he got past the head and as his ring of resistance let go. I felt myself being invited in. I knew when he was comfortable because his eyes opened and he looked at me and leaned forward. I began to move with him, at his pace, until he let me know that he was free and clear. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him before planting my hands on his shoulders. It was almost a warning kiss. Our lips parted, and I pushed him, hard. The sounds he made competed with mine. The more he opened up, the more I felt like he was resisting me. And he knew it. He fucking knew it. He took my hands, placing one on his hip with his and the other on my chest underneath his and leaned forward enough to take the lead. Or I let him have it. The warmth of his ass on my thighs sped up my endgame. I felt myself tighten and my hand dug into his hip, pressing him harder and harder into me. I was determined to push him through the floor. When the crash hit me, I yelled out something incoherent, some shit that can’t even be translated with our alphabet. So did he.

“Fuck, Justin, fuck.” My face was buried in his chest. I was trying to remember how to breathe. I don’t think I really cared anymore. He came around eventually and climbed off of me. It was the saddest moment of my life. For some reason, I started laughing.

“What’s so funny Brian?”

“I felt like that orgasm was trying to kill me. Like it was trying to hunt me down and kill me. I think it did.”

“So are you saying you enjoyed that game I made up?” We were both too fucked out to even look at each other. We were just lying on our backs staring at the ceiling.

“Yes.”

But that was last night. And this was no game. And I’m lying here now, smoking this cigarette, looking at this fucking ceiling by myself.

Goddamnit.