InsaneJournal

Justin grunts uncomfortably as the mouth around his cock becomes painfully tight. His stomach clenches and he yanks hard on the head of hair bobbing up and down in front of him. How he got into this situation doesn’t elude him, but rather keeps him sane as he tries to pace his trick to his liking.

Wednesday night; Red night at Babylon.

Justin looks up at Brian, who slides a perfect shade of crimson shirt across his broad shoulders. Licking his lips, Justin turns back to his computer. He has a project he needs to finish. Or at least that’s what he told Brian.

Brian slips his hands down the front of Justin’s t-shirt, “Sunshine, I don’t think you’re keeping in Babylon dress code.”

“I’m not going.” Justin says as quickly as he can.

“Hmm.” Brian replies, his hands sliding back up Justin’s body, rubbing his shoulders.

Justin doesn’t want to give in. He wants Brian to want to stay with him. But he knows he won’t, even if that was even what Brian wanted. He’s Brian Kinney, he has something to prove, regardless of the rules or words spoken between them.

He caves. It’s too easy. His need for Brian too hot, to tight in his belly, “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Brian smirks, pulling his lips over his teeth, sliding his shirt back off his body, handing it to Justin.

“Let’s go,” Brian whispers in Justin’s ear as he twists gracefully away, probably to find another red shirt. Justin remains were he stands, before he gently presses the shirt to his nose. It’s still warm, still smells like Brian.

Another hiss, this one more bearable as the trick licks the underside of his shaft, just below the head. Justin knows if he opens his eyes he’ll be able to see Brian on the other side of the room, fucking the mouth of his trick with considerably more pleasure than Justin is.

Brian groans heavily, forcing Justin‘s eyes open. Even through the thrusts, grunts and moans of the backroom, Justin can easily pick out Brian’s throaty admission. It makes his dick jolt in his trick’s mouth, he looks pleased, his mouth stalling on Justin. Justin looks over at Brian, glistening with sweat and his shirt half buttoned above the tan of his thighs.

Fuck, Justin’s mind tells him. He knew this was his out, just slid his cock out of the trick’s mouth and it would be over, but with Brian so close it makes him tilt his pelvis and roll his hips. The trick gives it a better go this time round, his mouth soft, hollowing around his dick then licking the head gently.

Still, it doesn’t rouse Justin. He’s not interested in fucking the trick so in part he wills himself to come. His body refuses to cooperate, letting the trick continue his subpar adminstrations. Slowly Justin lets his tongue roll out of his mouth over his lips, wetting them as he closes his eyes again. Instead of being in Babylon he’s in the loft with Brian. It’s easy to imagine when he turns his head slightly to inhale the scent of Brian’s shirt.

As if by telepathy, Brian lets out another satisfied groan, it spurs Justin on. Justin imagines that it’s his familiar dark head bobbing up and down on his cock, his hair thickly plastered to his forehead with perspiration. He doesn’t even break his fantasy when he has to slow the trick again as he gets to enthusiastic with his rhythm. Brian likes it slower, he prefers to draw everything out until Justin is a wet, willing mess beneath him.

Another swipe at his own lips and Justin feels a quiver in his balls, not enough to come but enough to know it’s possible. For a moment, there’s nothing, no suction, no hand pressed against the back of his thigh to hold him in place. Justin is about to open his eyes when his mouth is back. This time the trick seems to have learnt something, his tongue slides over Justin’s leaking head, fingers slowly dragging up and down his cock. Justin leans his hips foward again, pushing them against the trick’s mouth. He openly obliges, sucking Justin down until he almost bumps the back of his throat.

It’s exactly what he imagined Brian would have done, because Brian knew it got him off in seconds. Brian...Justin opens his eyes, looking down at Brian’s dark mop of hair as his nose presses against Justin’s pubes before sliding off his cock with a wet pop. His fingers remain curled around Justin, jerking slowly as he rises off his knees.

“Fuck Sunshine, you looked like you were having more fun in a funeral home.” Brian quips before he licks the corner of Justin’s mouth. Involuntarily, Justin bucks in Brian’s hand as he rubs the thick vein of his cock. “But still, you look hot. Fucked.”

Justin’s mouth makes a silent groan, his mouth shaping to make the sound that never came. Brian went back to his knees, taking Justin down in one swallow. Biting his hand, Justin hisses as Brian hollowed his cheeks, sucking him in the tight ‘O’ of his mouth when he pulled off, bring Justin’s orgasm with it. Justin whimpers as Brian’s hands slide around to the backs of his thighs, holding him up as Brian continues to suck him in earnest, taking every drop Justin has to give.

There’s a sound of applause as Brian rises again. His eyebrow quirks as he tucks Justin back into his pants before pulling Justin to him by the shirt lapel.

Justin leans into Brian as Brian guides them out of the backroom, Justin frowns, “Where’d my trick go?”

Brian’s eyes darken, “Why the fuck do you care?”

Justin turns his head to look up and Brian, “I don’t. I...”

Brian silenced Justin with a kiss, hot and wet like the blowjob he just recieved. “Shut the fuck up, let’s go, I’m horny.”

“You just--” Justin feels Brian’s woody digging into his hip. Justin wisely closed his mouth, and let Brian drag him to the Jeep.

Justin felt a thrill of power go through him; Brian had foregone getting himself off to get him off. “Brian, I think we should go to Studs’n‘suds. That’s Friday right?”

He even managed to hide the little thrill he got when he heard Brian cursing out the backroom of Babylon.



Fin.