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Title: What's Eating Brian Kinney? To: ljnewfan From: Click here to guess! Rating: NR (includes explicit sex) Author's Notes: A hurt/comfort fic with a Justin on top to warm you up this holiday season. I can't wait to see Brian, to touch Brian, to taste Brian. It has been too long. Though, the phone sex was great and all, but there is no contest to the real thing. I want; no, need to have the real thing. It’s been a little over two months since Brian has been inside of me. Brian refused to come see me in L.A. He didn't see any point to it, no matter how much I begged him to visit. So when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped on the first available flight back to Pittsburgh. He doesn’t know how much I actually miss being in the Pitts. L.A. was, is great, but it is missing one crucial thing. Brian. In a few minutes, I’ll be wrapped safely in my lover's strong arms. That thought alone causes me to smile wide as I get up out of my seat on the plane. I grab my carry in the storage compartment above my head and join the line of people weaving their way off the plane. Looking for my brunette, I begin to scan the large crowd of friends and lovers who are littering the terminal, only to realize he’s nowhere in sight. Where the hell is Brian? Did he forget? Unlikely. We've been talking non-stop about this day, about this moment, and Brian even told me yesterday that he was clearing his afternoon to pick me up. Well, there's no way he's lost at the airport. Brian knows this airport in and out from his business trips, so that can't be it. I suppose Brian is running late with things not in his control, so I head off to find my luggage without a second thought. With two suitcases in tow, I flop down in a seat back at the terminal. Still, no sign of Brian. Shit. I pull out my cell to hoping to locate Brian so I can tell him the exact spot I'm at in the airport. He isn't picking up, so I leave a brief message. Then I call the loft leaving the same message there as well. I half expect my cell to ring at any moment with Brian returning my call, but a half-hour later I still haven’t heard anything from him. After calling his cell and leaving yet another message, I call Kinnetik and find out that Brian did take off on time and as far as Cynthia knows, he is on his way. Resignedly, I slouch down in my seat, hoping that Brian will get his ass here soon. )=( After finally giving up, I flag down a taxi and tell the driver to take me to the loft. This of course, is where I find Brian. At first, I’m relieved that Brian is okay — I was really beginning to worry. However, that feeling is soon replaced with anger and frustration as Brian explains that something came up — which usually means his dick — and gives me short version of the 'we are not a married couple' lecture. Brian and his damn bullshit philosophies! So we aren't a married couple, but I do seem to recall a little conversation about us being partners. Brian and I are partners, are we not? And it still doesn’t change the fact that he promised to pick me up. What is his problem anyway? I don't want to fight. I'm suffering a little jet leg, so I bite my tongue. But God, I hate him when he acts like this. He's being impossible. I sigh. Still waiting on his apology for being such ass to me, I follow him into the bedroom. Maybe he’s trying to form the words and that’s the reason for his silence now. Maybe. I hope, anyway as I stand at the foot of the bedroom stairs, quietly watching him. White or black T-shirt or tank top or . . . wife beater. Hmm . . . Babylon . . . Pistol . . . Boy Toy . . . Woody's . . . or what was that new place . . . What the hell was it called? "Fuck . . ." I mumble. I try to hide the little smile which is begging to form across my face. ‘Fuck’ . . . It’s the most promising thing I’ve heard from his lips so far. Sure, dealing with him isn't the greatest struggle in the world, but this Brian Kinney we are talking about. I take whatever I can get. Aw . . . Pink Duck. Who the hell came up with that lame-ass name for the place? Probably a couple of queeny fags who wish they're dikes. Guys who want big tits and a pussy. I quiver at the disgusting thought of wanting a pussy. But whatever floats your boat, right? Just don't float that boat in my direction. I grab the wife beater. Yeah, definitely the black wife beater. I watch him strip off his shirt, to my delight, exposing his copper toned, muscular upper body. Mmm . . . He has been working out a lot I take it. I fold my lips inwards and rub my tongue between them. God, I’ve missed him. I really, really hated being away from him for so long. He probably, I know, missed me just as much. I smirk. I can feel Justin eyeing my upper body. He is probably drooling. I can't really blame him though. Don't think I've ever looked better than this. The extra time I've been spending at the gym has really paid off. Hell, I could get hard just admiring my body. Oh wait, I already am. I'm fucking gorgeous. Sunshine would no doubt agree. I cock an eyebrow in his direction. "Enjoying the view there, Hollywood?" I glance at his semi-hard cock. Well, I think I’ve found my answer. "Huh . . . Ah huh." Good. "Well, move it, because this show is going on the road." "What?" His hungry grin fades. "I'm going out. If you want to come..." Who doesn’t? "...you better hurry up or I'm leaving your bubble butt here." Out? He’s kidding, just teasing me . . . Any second he’ll throw me on the bed and fuck me senseless, right? I study him closely. No, he’s serious. I don't believe this. "But . . ." "But what? Please don't tell me you’re still mad at me for not picking you up at the airport," he scoffs, meeting my gaze full force. "No . . . I'm not.” Well, not really mad per say. Just disappointed and puzzled about what happened in the last 24 hours for Brian to be acting this way. "Everything doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Hollywood. I can't drop everything at any given moment to play your chauffeur. This isn't L.A. Now, are you coming or not?" I don't know what to say. It sounds like Brian is mad at me. But what did I do? A part says just let Brian go, and then crash into the bed and sleep this day away. Brian isn't in the greatest of moods. But the other part of me of replays the image Brian's naked torso and reminds how horny I am for him. I look over at the bed then back at Brian. I wish we could just fuck the rest of the day and stay in bed. But that doesn't seem to be a choice. I sigh. I wonder where we are going. I inhale my shot of scotch in hopes that it will wash the disappointment out of me, but all it does is increase feeling of nausea in my aching stomach. I should have expected this. Why didn’t I? I look over at the swarm of the men, all involved in heated dances, which is undoubtedly, a prelude to sex. It’s easy to predict the choreography of these dances: back, forth, round, up, down, creating maps out of human flesh with a rain of colorful lights blanketing them. Raw bodies, sweating, humping together, wet backs sliding against each other, shoulders nudging. Hands massaging chests, pushing, shoving, licking, sucking, grinding, grunting . . . You think since I'm back from L.A. Brian would want to be fucking me senseless since he hasn't seen me a little over two month, but no. He’d rather stick his dick into some stranger's ordinary ass instead of my perfectly shaped bubble butt. I don't understand. I don't understand any of this. Shit, we haven't even been here five minutes, and he has already ditched me for a beefy toned brunette with great biceps. "Asshole," I mumble under my breath, watching helplessly as Brian takes his playmate into the back room. I order another shot, gulp it down, and slam the empty glass onto the bar. I have had enough of this. Weaving my way through the crowd, shrugging off groping hands, I move my way into the back room to find my asshole. I find Brian slamming the trick, pushing him against the wall with each thrust. The sight disgusts me. "Brian . . . Brian, I'm going home." "What was that, Sunshine," he asks huskily turning his head to look at me as he continues, keeping his pace. "I said I'm going home!" "Why?" "Why not?" I snap. Why do think, Brian? Is it that hard to realize? "Oh come on, don't be that way," he remarks. "Be what way, Brian?" I inquire, but I don't wait for an answer. "Look, you don't really expect me to stick around while you get your rocks off, do you?" "No, I expect you to do the same. I'm sure there's someone here you would love to fuck." Yeah, but he has his cock up some trick's ass right now. "He seems to be occupied at moment. So it's just best that I go." Hot tears begin to form in my eyes, threatening to brim over. I walk off without a backwards glance, making a feeble attempt to keep the tears from falling. I watch him flee around corner. Mixed emotions flow through me, and an uneasy feeling forms in my gut as I stare at nothing, still rocking mindlessly into my trick. I feel like a Goddamn housewife, and I fucking hate it. FUCK! Did he think I wouldn't find out? Why do I keep taking the fucker back? He’s just going to fucking leave me again. Maybe he already has . . . Well, fuck him. I don't need him. As he saw, I'm doing just fine without him. My trick reaches his orgasm, his cum shooting long spurts against the wall. He fucking came with out me! Asshole! I pull out of the lame trick, in an even worse mood than before. "Sorry . . ." the tricks gasps. "Get on your fucking knees and finish this!" I bark. "What the fuck are you doing here?" says an all too familiar voice behind me as I walk out of Babylon. Turning around, "I've no fucking clue," I tell Michael honestly. "You should have stayed in L.A. What did you come back here for? To rub it in Brian's face?" "Excuse me?" What the hell is his problem? I raise my eyebrows. "You've got some nerve doing this to Brian again," he snaps. "Michael, what are talking about?" My brow furrows in confusion. "Oh, don’t play dumb. We all know . . ." "Know what?" "It was on the news, and in the newspapers with pictures." "Huh? Pictures of what?" "So you haven't seen them yet. Well, your little Hollywood secret is out. I hope Brian kicks your ass to the curb where he should have left you the first time," he states and storms back into Babylon. Instead chasing after Michael, I quickly head off to find a paper to see what he was talking about. )=( I stumble into the loft hours later to find Justin in bed waiting for me. His eyes are full of pain and anger, and his arms are expectantly folded across his chest. The sight stings me for a moment, sending a shiver down my spine. I hate that look. I hate the fact that I caused that look, but it’s all for the best. It’ll probably help him break up with me a lot easier. "You're still here," I say flatly, heading to the closet and stripping off my clothes, then tossing them into the hamper. "This is my home, is it not?" he snaps. I shrug. "I don't know, is it?" I'm sure my loft doesn't stand a chance to Brett's condo with a valley view. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"/ "Whatever you want it to mean, Sunshine." He snorts at that. "Michael says you are going to throw me out on the curb." I groan. God, I know Mikey means well, but fuck! Why can't he just butt out for once? He just had to shove those pictures downs my throat this morning and now, God only knows what shit he has told Justin. "Is that so?" "Yeah . . .” he trails off. "Brian, is that why you decided not to pick me up at the airport?" I say nothing. "I'm surprised someone as talented in advertising as you would buy someone else’s bullshit." "Hey, it what's makes the world go around," I chuckle dryly looking over at Justin who isn't amused. "For the record, Brett is dating Marc the other art assistant. Someone is probably going to lose their job over this screw up. It's kinda sad." I study him, and I immediately know he's telling the truth. I’m unsure whether I should be relieved or not. If not Brett, it's bound to be some else sooner or later. But at least I have him at the moment, right? "But I guess it's nice to know I still make you jealous," he says with a slight grin. "Jealous? I hate to burst your little bubble, but I don't do jealous." I crawl onto my side of the bed. "Oh, right of course not. How could I forget?" he says sarcastically. The little shit. I give him a scowl which he promptly ignores. "You don't trust me," he sighs shaking his head. I throw him a confused look. "I trust you," I state. "No, you don't. You have never fully trusted me, even before Ethan. Now, I know I need to earn that trust and all, but you make it impossible because you always keep me at a distance. You say we are partners, but we're not. Partners trust each other. Partners are equals, but everything has to be your way or the highway." I open my mouth to say something, but I end up closing and clench my teeth instead. As the silence seems to press in around us, suffocating me, I notice his eyes are beginning to cloud up with tears. Nevertheless, he continues, "God knows I have made mistakes in the past, but you're no saint either." Meeting his glaze, I remark, "Ethan . . . Brett . . . When something looks better than what I've got to offer you, you take off — which I don't blame you for. Hell, if I were you I probably would have done the same thing in a heartbeat. But what I don't get is why you keep coming back when I'm clearly not what you want." "True, maybe you are not what I want, Brian, but you are what I need. And you may not need me, but you want me. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I'm not going anywhere? I'm here to stay through every wrinkle, every gray hair." Christ . . . I wince. Does he always have to remind me of how old I'm getting? "I love you, Brian. I always have, always will. I loved you yesterday; I love you today, and I’ll love you tomorrow and the days to follow. I'll never stop loving you no matter how hard I try — tried. There is simply no one else in world for me than you." "You're wrong . . ." I smirk. "No, I'm not," I snap. "Yes, you are," he remarks sharply. "Brian, I know how I feel . . ." "I'm talking not about how you feel. I'm talking about how I feel," he explains. Oh my God! "You don't want me?" I gasp. "Would you shut up for a second and let me finish?" "Fine." "No, I don't want you. I may have wanted you at the beginning, but I haven't really wanted you in a long time." The pad of his thumb caresses my cheek, and I realize that he’s wiping away some stray tears that have fallen from my red, stinging eyes. I can’t believe I'm hearing this. And then he says . . . "I need you too. And I have never needed anyone in my life before." It takes a second to hit me, and I smile. "Really? Not even, Michael?" I sniff. "I thought you were done interrupting me," he snickers raising his eyebrows. "Sorry. I mean please continue," I beg. "No, not even Michael. You think I don't trust you, but I do. You've never been a good liar. You're eyes always give you away, but that's not why I trust you. I trust you because you know me better than any one. So it isn't a trust issue, it's more of a . . ." he pauses rubbing his tongue against inside of his cheek for second or two before quietly stating, "a fear issue." "Fear of loosing me?" Shit! Why can't I keep my mouth shut? He eyes me, shaking his head but continues. "Yes, fear of loosing you I guess, but also a fear of the unknown. This relationship is something I can't control," he admits. "Relationship?" I gasp again. I really can't believe I’m hearing this. Someone pinch me please. "I meant partnership," he snaps. "I like relationship better," I reply, my face cracking into wide grin. "Partnership." "What's the difference? Potatoes, Patotoes." Brian sighs, "I can't shut you up, can I?" "Oh, I can think of ways you can shut me up." "You can, can you?" He cocks an eyebrow. "Ah, huh . . ." I take his slightly damp hand — probably due to my salty tears — and bring it to my mouth. I begin start sucking on each of his fingers, and wiggle my tongue between each digit. "Are you trying to seduce me, Taylor," Brain questions with a smirk. "Always," I answer as I slide a hand under the covers and cup his crotch, fondling it greedily. Beneath his boxer briefs, I can feel his cock come alive at my touch. Brian pulls his hand away from my lips and pounces on top of me, pulling me into a heated kiss. I put my arms around him, drawing him closer into me, crushing my body completely underneath his. I barely notice. Our chests rise and fall together, and we moan into each other's mouths as our tongues slide against one another, battling for domination. I gasp as Brian's thigh comes into contact with my bare crotch. Brian grins evilly at me. Then he attacks my earlobe with his wet, warm tongue. Slowly moving downward, he assaults my neck. I wince every time his teeth clamp down on my flesh, surely leaving love marks. Though I'm into foreplay, right now I'm craving penetration. I let go of Brian and push myself onto my elbows, which causes Brian to cease his actions and meet my hungry gaze. I’m batting my eye lashes, giving him my best Puss-in-Boots ‘innocent eyes’ and pouting lip. He snorts a laugh as he buries his face into the crook of my neck. Mumbling into my flesh, he grumbles, "You've been watching Shrek 2 too many times." "Yeah, maybe . . . But hey, there hasn't been a sexier puss than Antonio Banderas. You have to admit it." He sighs, "I didn't know a pussy with hair balls would be such a turn on for you." I shrug. "Oh, wait . . . You're in luck. I feel one coming on." I give him a puzzled look, silently asking what he’s referring to. Then I roll my eyes as Brian begins to have a coughing fit. "Brian, stop it. Stop it!" Brian pretends to puke on my face, and sticks out his tongue. His hot breath reeks of Jim Beam. "BRIAN!" He licks the tip of my nose before I push him off of me. He laughs in amusement. Shaking my head, giggling, I straddle him. "Feeling better?" "Hmm . . ." He ponders, "Actually, I feel another one coming . . ." I cut him off, pressing my lips hard against his. When we come up for air again, I roll off of Brian to reach the nightstand for a condom and lube . Brian quickly removes his underwear. Achieving both of our goals, we lock lips again. I begin to open the foil package when Brian grabs it from me. Letting go, Brian rips the cellophane with his teeth. But to my shock, instead of slipping the condom on his own cock, he pulls over mine. "I thought you wanted to be equal in our . . ." I groan the word, "relationship." "Partnership," he corrects me. "Whatever," I shrug. "If you don't want to . . ." "Oh, I want to. Do really want me to?" Justin's POV "Would I've put the condom on you if I didn't?" Okay, dumb question. "Roll over then," I order. "Just take it easy, okay?" "Like the first time?" I ask. We both start to chuckle, realizing how similar we sound to years ago . . . only this time I’m on top. Me going inside of Brian. Me in control. I start nibbling on his neck. Trailing my tongue down his spine, between his cheeks, and over his sacs causing Brian to moan and shiver as I slide off of his stiff, hard cock. "Fuck, Justin!" I grin proudly at the result. I rub the pre-cum from my tongue onto my lips. Separating his smooth cheeks, I slowly penetrate his tight, heated pink pucker with my wet tongue. Brian groans and tenses momentarily and then takes a deep breath and relaxes his body. I begin swiveling my tongue inside of him as I pop the lid of the lube. Coating my latex covered cock with a fair layer of lotion, I proceed to squirt a decent amount over his opening. Brian hisses at the coldness. "Big baby," I mock. "Twat," he grumbles, glaring at me. I chuckle, leaning up to meet his lips to mine and share the taste of my now bitter, stale cumber favored tongue. With our faces still locked in the searing kiss, I shove two fingers into Brian making him wince and moan into my mouth. We continue to suck on each other as I stretch his hole. Pulling my fingers out of him, I ask, "Ready?" Brian simply responds with a brief kiss. Lining up with Brian, I carefully place the tip of my cock at his entrance and lightly push. We both gasp out at the movement. I move a few centimeters every few seconds to give Brian time to adjust to me. Then slowly, I pull almost all the way out and push myself back in. Soon I get into a rocking rhythm, as we breath in heavily between grunts of passion. When I feel that I'm not going to last much longer, I guide my right hand to Brian's cock and start stroking in time with my thrusts. Brian comes, moaning softly — one of my favorite sounds in world — the sound of him in ecstasy. I can feel his hot, milky cum on my hand. Due to his orgasm, Brian’s channel clenches down hard on my cock, triggering my own release. I erupt into the condom, and ride out my orgasm before collapsing onto Brian. We’re both panting and gasping for air. I listen to our heartbeats, and I don't wait to move for anything in the world. Justin finally pulls out of me and crashes next to me, completely exhausted. He's fighting fatigue but losing the battle. I lean over and kiss him, removing the condom from his now flaccid cock. Then, I pull him tight against my body, holding him closely, and ignoring my cum soaked chest for the time being. A light sheen of sweat is present on both our bodies, and almost glows in the subtle light above my — our — bed. I really need to take down those lights, but I'll wait until Justin is done with L.A. "You know . . ." he mumbles into my chest, and I rest my chin on his head. "You're not alone . . . in the unknown of our . . . partnership. I'm here too." "I know." "Will you shut up," he snaps, but the harsh words lack conviction. "I'm trying to say something." I wait, he remains in silence. I clear my throat. "Hmm . . ." "Was there something else you were going to say?" I inquire. "Um, no." "Oh, you better be . . . good." "Or . . . ?" "I won't let you top me again." "An empty threat," he utters. "Is that so . . ." "Mmm . . . hmm . . .” "You really think so?" "Yup," Justin yawns. "Besides, you love me too much not to. . ." Yeah, I guess I do. |