Summary: Brian falls down and Justin gets a free ride. Two, even.
Rating/Warnings/etc: NC-17, Justin's POV, early Season 1
Beta: razzleslash, who'd beta everything that features two cocks for me *LOL*. And she's so good at it! Btw, thanks for leaving at least a handful of commas in, sweetie! :P
Disclaimer: Brian and Justin belong to Cowlip, no copyright infringement is intended.
Feedback: Would make my night and day :D
A/N: written for snowinandblowin, the Queer as Folk Secret Santa. I had the great pleasure and honour to write a fic for the wonderful valereix. She suggested five different scenarios she'd enjoy and I tried to combine three of them: Early-season one with emphasis on Justin's enthusiatic embracing of NC-17 situations // Justin's introduction to various NC-17 fun ("first time" situations) // An NC-17 situation where Brian is very drunk and falls down. See for yourself if it works or not. But the most important thing: valereix was happy with the result, yay! >:D<
I never know where I’ll end up on the evenings I sneak into Babylon. I know I’ll always find Brian there, that’s not the problem. They key is the mood he’ll be in. Sometimes, he barely notices me at all, turns his attention to some trick and leaves me behind, all frustrated and disappointed. On my lucky nights, we spend time together grinding against each other on the dancefloor until he takes me home with him and fucks my brains out. Sometimes, he teases and taunts me so I never know what he’s up to, those evenings can end either way. Basically, I’ve seen a lot of different Brians during the past weeks since I met him, and whenever I think I begin to read him, he surprises me again.
Like tonight. When I arrived at Babylon, Brian was nowhere to be seen. When he still hadn’t shown up about half an hour later, I began to worry. Maybe I’d been late and he’d left with another guy already. Or worse, maybe something had happened to him? Maybe he was sick and at home? Michael wasn’t around, either, but even if he was; I’d probably not have asked him about Brian anyway, he’d surely have laughed at me. I know Michael despises me, I also know it’s because he’s jealous of me and the time I spend with Brian – hey, I’m aware that I sometimes act like a love struck fool when Brian’s around, but I’m not that stupid. I just hope that things will calm down now that Michael’s got a boyfriend – who, by the way, is so very old, maybe as old as my dad, which is a scary thought!
Anyway, so I’m standing here at the bar, worried and concerned, looking out for Brian. And then, all of a sudden, he’s there, grabbing my arm, mumbling something along the lines of “Let’s get outta here” and dragging me with him. I’m so positively stunned I question neither his magical appearance nor his command, I just happily trot along, thinking that I got lucky once again. Brian is here, after all, and he chose me – again.
It isn’t until we arrive outside and the fresh air hits me that I realized something is different. The way Brian walks isn’t as confident and self-assured as usual, oozing cockiness and determination. He’s staggering slightly, almost holding onto my arm as we make our way to the Jeep.
“Brian? You okay?” I finally ask.
“Yeah… fine, fine,” he replies and stops in front of his car. He lets go off me and fumbles the keys out of his pocket, only to drop them while he tries to open the car.
“Fuck!” he curses and bends down, giving me a very spectacular view of his ass. He’s holding onto the car, probably to keep balance, while I just stand there, mesmerized by the sight in front of me. I’ve seen drunk Brian, I’ve seen drugged Brian, and this seems to be a good mix of both. It reminds me of our very first night together, the night he took me with him after Gus was born. It reminds me of how he’d fucked me that night, gentle at first and with less restraint later on. Just the prospect of maybe being granted another night like that makes my dick twitch and heart beat fast. I’m so lost in thought, I don’t notice Brian is talking to me again. The feeling of metal in my palms makes me look down. Brian’s car key – is in my hands. I look back up to him. He frowns at me.
“Wha… what?” I stutter.
“Can you? Drive?” he snaps and already walks over to the passenger side.
“Uhm, sure,” I mumble, looking down on the keys again.
“Then do it,” he just says and taps his fingers impatiently against the car door.
“Okay! No problem!” I express my fake joy and open the car for us. I’m dead nervous during the whole drive, but Brian doesn’t really notice. He’s half sitting, half lying in his seat, staring out of the window and doesn’t say anything at all. I stay silent, too, not sure about the mood he’s in and afraid I could piss him off if I say something wrong.
I manage to drive us to the loft without any problems. We get out of the car, inside the building and as soon as we arrive on the top floor, everything changes. Brian is all over me the moment we enter the loft. I have barely set my foot inside when I feel his hands roaming my body; squeezing, grabbing and pinching whatever they can reach. I turn in his arms and he hungrily claims my mouth, forcing it open with his tongue and pushing inside. I moan and respond eagerly to the kiss. I’m so happy he chose me again. I’m relieved because it almost didn’t happen.
We stumble further inside, a mass of limbs intertwined, body parts pressing against each other, hardening, tensing. I feel plundered in the best way possible. Brian’s hunger for me hasn’t really lessened since the night we met and I hope if I just stick around long enough he’ll one day admit, at least to himself, how much he enjoys my presence. As for now, I just take everything I can get. Like his tongue in my mouth, his long fingers scraping my ass and his cock, hard inside his jeans, rubbing against my thigh. Jesus, it’s so hot I need to break away for a moment to catch my breath and relax. I don’t want this to be over before it really started.
He smirks and slaps my ass before he lets go off me. “You. On the bed. Naked. Now.”
I nod and walk over to the bed, it’s not like I’d made any other plans. It doesn’t really bother me that Brian doesn’t use complete sentences to talk to me, I’m quite fond of the commanding tone in his voice, and I bet he knows it. Although there’s a trace of doubt; whether he’s doing it on purpose or because he can’t help himself. From the few words he’s said to me, I noticed his voice is more blurry than usual. Guess he’s really done tonight.
I watch him while I undress myself next to the bed. He takes off his jacket and shoes and sways over to the fridge, and just because he isn’t moving as gracefully as usual doesn’t mean he isn’t sexy. He pulls a bottle of water out of the fridge – it really is like our first night. Only tonight, he’s not naked and doesn’t pour the water all over his body, he just takes a few sips and makes his way to the bedroom, where I’m waiting for him, naked and willing, just like he told me.
And that’s when it happens. I don’t really know how, it’s all happening so fast, but when Brian takes the first step to the bedroom, he suddenly trips and falls down, and before I know what’s going on, he’s lying on the steps and cursing like a drunk sailor.
“Fucking shit! Goddamn! FUCK!” he yells and I’m on my feet in an instant, hurrying over to him and asking what’s wrong. He swats my hand away and tries to get up.
“Fuck. This… shit. Argh!” He rubs his elbow and pulls a face. I guess he hit his funny bone – ouch. And not only that, there’s suddenly blood on his fingers and his eyes widen at the sight of it.
“Damn. Now I’m fucking bleeding, just GREAT!” He kicks against the steps, not that it really helps anything.
“Let me see,” I demand, grab and turn his arm and he actually lets me do it. He hit his funny bone, alright, the shirt is ripped on his elbow and there’s some blood on it. He looks down on the wound, too.
“Perfect. A nice combat wound.”
I have to fight the feeling of rolling my eyes at him. “It’s nothing, Brian. Just a little scratch.”
“Oh yeah? Well, it hurts like a motherfucker, that damn little scratch,” he barks and tears his arm away from my grip. “And the shirt’s ruined, too. An eighty dollar shirt. Ruined.” He uses his good arm to open the buttons and shrugs the shirt off his shoulders. We both look at his elbow again. The skin is damaged and it’s still bleeding, but it’s not really that bad.
“Let’s clean it and stop the bleeding. You got iodine? Band aids? A first aid kit?” I ask, eager to make it all better for him.
He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind and frowns. “Bathroom, maybe.”
“Okay. Come on then.”
He lets me lead him into the bathroom and eyes his wound in the mirror while I rummage through the cabinet. There are all kinds of really expensive looking crèmes and other facial stuff, there are condoms and lube, and wow, there’s also the small first aid kit I’ve been looking for. I rinse my hands, open the iodide and pour some on a cotton pad. I wonder whether I should wear some plastic gloves, then again, I don’t have any open wounds on my hands and it’s not as if I’m about to touch the wound. Guess I’ll be careful and we’ll be just fine.
“Okay, I’ll clean it now, hang on,” I announce as I press the drained pad on his elbow.
He hisses and bites his lip, trying hard not to yell again. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he mumbles through gritted teeth, “I’ll have your balls if there’s a scar.”
“There won’t be a scar, Brian.” I’m about to add ‘it’s juts a small scratch’ but think better of it. I had no idea Brian was able to queen out, however, I’m sure it’s nothing he really wants me to see, so I just concentrate on cleaning the wound and hope he won’t remember the details of all this tomorrow.
He, however, keeps on rambling, temporarily sobered up a bit from shock and pain. “Lesson for you. You listen?” I nod and he goes on. “Never try a new pill if you don’t know what… if you don’t know its effect. With booze. Mixed, I mean. Just don’t. Don’t mix it. Or ask somebody if it’s good before you swallow. If you don’t, you risk getting scarred for life.”
He eventually shuts up and lets me do my job. The bleeding stops shortly after, so I put a band aid on the wound and fix it with a bandage. “There you go,” I say when I’m done.
He rinses his hands and inspects my work. “Not bad. You’d make quite the nurse.”
I beam with pride, and Brian chuckles. “Maybe I should get you an apron and a bonnet, hm?” he teases and leans in to say ‘thank you’ in his own, unique way: by sucking my neck and wrapping the hand of his good arm around my cock. “Would you like that? Nursing me with nothing but a tight apron on?”
“God yes,” I breathe and thrust my hips into his fist, my cock’s going from flaccid to rock hard in seconds, and he ‘hm’s in approval of my arousal.
“Bed. Now,” he commands and I eagerly walk over to the bedroom, crawl onto the mattress and wait for him. He puts off his pants, grabs lube and some condoms and lies down next me, eying me expectantly. “I’m bruised and battered. You’ll have to do the work tonight,” he smirks.
I hold my breath. Is he asking me to do what I think he is? Does he want me to fuck him? My heart begins to race and I have to swallow hard. I’ve dreamt about this on one than more occasion. It’s not only that I desperately want to fuck Brian to know how it feels or because it would mean that he kinda trusts me, there’s more to it. Back when Brian fucked me for the very first time, I fell in love with him. Feeling him inside me, so new yet so strangely familiar, made me develop these strong emotions towards him and I hope that if he’d feel me same way, maybe he’d fall in love with me, too. I swallow again, being nervous and excited about the prospect of my dream becoming true and scoot closer towards him. I stroke his cock and he relaxes under my touch. Oh my God, is it really happening?
As soon as his dick is pointing up, hard and strong, just the way I love it, I let go of it and my fingers fondle his balls for a moment and then move on, closer to…
“What are you doing?” he suddenly asks when I just brushed across his hole for the very first time. I stop immediately.
“I… you said… You said I had to…”
He snorts, apparently amused by my confusion. “Nah. That’s not going to happen. Keep on dreaming.”
“But… You said I had to do the work, didn’t you?” I feel silly just asking this question, but I really am confused now.
“Yeah. But not like that. Come here.” He motions for me to kneel above him, and I do so.
“I’m injured and can’t fuck you properly tonight,” he explains once I’m sitting on his lap. “So I’ll just lie here, watch you fuck yourself, first with your fingers, then on my cock. Come on, give me a nice show.”
He looks at me expectantly. I’m a bit taken aback by the sudden turn of events. We’ve never done it this way before, not with me… riding him, and I grow fond of that idea very fast. Although… the other thing, he wants me to fuck myself? That’s another thing we haven’t done before and I’m a bit reluctant. It’s not as if I’ve never touched myself like this before, it’s a nice way to help me get off in those lonely nights, when I’m lying at home in my bed, thinking about Brian and jerking off. But fuck myself in front of him? It’s one thing if he puts his fingers, cock or tongue in my ass, but doing so myself in front of him… I can’t help it but frown.
He senses my doubts, I guess, because he says “Justin,” and he gets me whenever he uses my name. He must know it, that it always makes me giddy. “Come on,” he adds. “Give me a little show.”
Alright then. I can do this. If Brian thinks it’s hot, it will be for both of us, I’m sure. I lift my body onto my knees, reach for the lube and coat my fingers. As soon as I’m done, I close my eyes, take a last deep breath and bring my hand to my own hole, circling it. I try to imagine it’s Brian’s finger that’s brushing across my entrance and eventually enters my body slowly. And because my imagination is trained on spot when it comes to a hot Kinney-fantasy, my body almost doesn’t tense but rather sucks my own finger inside greedily. I moan softly, pull my finger out and push it back in. Oh, that’s good.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes to find Brian staring back at me, lips slightly parted and wet from his own saliva. I realize that this is much better than my fantasy. I have Brian underneath me and he’s getting aroused by the sight of me pleasuring myself. The sudden revelation works wonders on my confidence. I smile a bit and thrust my finger inside, hard. It’s okay and I add a second one, while my other hand flies to my nipple and pinches it.
Brian gasps and his eyes leave my face. He focuses on my ass, watches me fingerfuck myself and wets his lips again. “Yeah… that’s it. That’s hot.” His fingers dig into my thighs and I throw my head back and moan, damn, he’s so right, it is hot. It’s me he’s drooling about, I arouse him and I’m not even touching him. Oh yes, this is good. I had no idea how much it would turn me on, to expose myself like that. I should’ve known better.
Brian squeezes my thighs some more, to gain my attention, and I stop my movements.
“Put the condom on me.” He nods to the wrapper lying next to him on the mattress. I grab and open it, rolling the latex down on his shaft. As soon as I’m done, he pulls me closer. “Now go on, fuck yourself. On me this time.”
I reach down for his cock and position myself above it, until I can feel it pressing against my entrance. Slowly, very slowly, I lower my body, taking Brian in inch by inch, as much as possible. I’ve done a good job at preparing myself and he slides in without restraint at first. And it’s so good, it’s almost too much.
I have to pause midway and move back up before I lower myself again, all the way now, until I’m sitting on Brian’s lap, his cock fully sheathed in me. I just sit there and freeze for a few moments, indulging in the situation. It’s… amazing. I’m still the one getting fucked, yet I’m the one on top. I realize that this time, it’s all depending on me and how I move. It’s an awesome thought and fantastic feeling.
I tentatively lift my body again, trying to get a feel for rhythm and frequency. Brian uses his hand on my thigh to guide me, and soon enough, I’ve found a rhythm that’s perfect for both of us.
Brian has stuffed a cushion under his head so he can watch his cock being swallowed by my ass again and again, and he makes good use of that opportunity. I bend down to watch, too, and although I can’t really see what’s going on without falling out of rhythm, I get the general idea. It almost looks as if my ass is sucking Brian in and this short glimpse alone is enough to encourage me to ride him even faster. Hey. I’m riding Brian. Oh my God.
“Fuck, Justin,” Brian almost pants, I swear. “Fuck, yes.”
I reach for my cock and start jerking myself, I need to come. After a few strokes, I feel Brian’s hand covering my own.
“Yes, come on now,” he urges me on, and from this comment and the husky tone of his voice, I can tell he’s close too. Which is good, because it means I don’t have to hold myself back. And the hotness of Brian helping me with jerking off takes its toll soon enough. I scream his name and come so hard, shooting all over our hands, his stomach and chest, some drops even hitting his neck. I feel my asshole spasming around his cock, and the next thing I see is Brian arching his back so he can thrust back against me. He does it two or three more times, before he comes, too, not as vocal as me, but groaning and panting nevertheless.
I carefully ride us through our aftershocks, getting slower and slower, before I eventually stop moving. And I’m not sure I can move ever again, my whole body suddenly aches. But it looks as if Brian wants me to, he shifts a bit underneath me and I somehow manage to climb off him. He leaves for the bathroom as soon as he’s free, while I just slump down on the mattress, my body sweaty and sore.
I’m so exhausted I’m about to drift off when I feel something above me. It’s Brian covering me with the sheets, so I guess I’m allowed to stay for the night.
“Good boy,” he whispers in my ear before he lies down next to me. I’m thankful for the darkness that surrounds us now, I don’t want Brian to see the huge grin that’s spread across my face. I swallow a happy sigh and let sleep get hold of me.
Brian wears shirts with long arms for the next five days, and nobody notices the bandage underneath. The next weekend, at Babylon, he’s back in a black wifebeater. Of course, there’s not the trace of a scar visible on his elbow, just like I promised him. But I don’t rub it in, and that’s not only because Brian never mentions the incident again. I don’t need to remind him of the night the great Kinney fell down, I know it wouldn’t do me any good. Besides, I got my reward for nursing him already, and I want a repeat, so I just smile to myself and happily trot along when he takes me home with him – again.