Summary: QaFUS B/J, Justin top. Justin takes advantage when he can.
Disclaimer: Cowlip, et al.
I know there are those who have a top!Justin squick. I am not one. :g:
For Cait, who listened to me expound on the beauty of Brian's neck in 214, and then made me this icon.
He comes home drunk but not high for once, and Justin is woken from a sound sleep by the thunk of his boots on the bedroom floor. Whiskey, sweat, aftershave, and fuck waft toward him as he watches Brian weave unsteadily toward the bathroom.
Out again ten minutes later, minty toothpaste preceding him. Soft swish of clothes to the hardwood, bed dipping as he sinks into it with a barely discernible breath of thanks.
Justin waits, his dick already stirring, which is not surprising considering Brian can make him hard from a thousand paces. Out of the corner of his eye he can see glitter caught in Brian's hair and eyelashes.
Brian turns to his stomach with a grunt and can feel Justin's stare. He brings his head around on the pillow to meet Justin's gaze. "What?"
"Where'd you go after Babylon?" Justin asks softly, reaching out to pick a speck of glitter from Brian's cheek.
"Twilight," Brian answers, closing his eyes. "Then Shenanigans."
"Shenanigans? Was that same cage dancer there?"
"Oh yeah," Brian smiles. "He might have to take tomorrow off."
Silence for a while.
Then, "Did you fuck that guy with the leather vest? The one with the pride tat on his ass?"
"No," Justin says ruefully. "I let that other one - the one who looks like Tyson Beckford? - blow me, and Leather Vest was gone."
"The one that got away," Brian half-smiles, and Justin knows the opportunity is presenting itself.
He slides closer to Brian's warmth, molding himself to Brian's side and making sure his erection presses into the curve of his hip. Brian opens one eye again.
"Why, Justin. Are you coming on to me?"
"Not yet," Justin answers. "Give me a minute or two."
"So naughty. Did I teach you to be this naughty?"
"No. Why didn't you? I had to learn everything from the streets."
"Don't purr at me when I'm drunk. I don't have the resources to defend myself."
"I know," Justin grins, and slides a bare leg over Brian's ass, reveling in the smoothness of his skin. Brian shifts slightly beneath him.
"That's dangerous ground, little boy. Good thing I'm too sloshed to move."
Justin slides one hand under Brian's hips and discovers his stiff cock belies his words. "Do you always have to talk? It ruins the effect of your prettiness."
Brian can't help but give a startled snort of laughter. "You're too fucking full of yourself. How'd you get that way? It can't have been my influence." And he starts to say something else cutting, but forgets what it is when Justin skims one hand down between the opening in his legs and cups Brian's balls in his hand.
Brian turns his head slightly to see him, and Justin has a look of concentration on his face, his brow furrowed. Good, Brian thinks. He damn well better put some effort into it.
Then he can't really think much after that, because aside from the alcohol buzzing in his brain, Justin is using his talented mouth to lick concentric circles at the small of Brian's back, the part that curves slightly into his ass and is one of the most erogenous zones on his body. Brian doesn't want to give Justin the satisfaction of arching into him but his hips think differently and he stretches like a lean cat under Justin's tongue.
Justin murmurs something unintelligible against Brian's skin but Brian doesn't care what it is. Justin spends most of their time in bed talking to himself during sex, and Brian would think it was sort of cute if he didn't find it so goddamn annoying. Brian made the connection a long time ago that fucking and drawing were one and the same for Justin, after watching him sketch one day and hearing those same low mutterings coming out of his mouth. Then, when he finished the picture, he heaved an enormous sigh and got the dreamy, sleepy look on his face that Brian recognized immediately as the same satisfied expression Justin usually wore after orgasm.
Brian stopped trying to decipher his mumbling after that.
Justin has abandoned Brian's back in favor of his ass, which gets the same slow licking, and Brian hates himself but can't help moving his legs apart slightly. He comforts himself with the fact that Justin's only doing what he's been taught, so essentially, this is masturbation. Except Brian would never be able to lick his own ass, and maybe he's a wee bit drunker than he first thought because he can feel himself drifting.
Justin slides back up Brian's limp form and tries to cover him as completely as Brian does to him, though he knows it's futile. He presses his face into the space between Brian's neck and ear and nuzzles there, rewarded with the tiny hairs rising on Brian's arm, and breathes deeply of the smoke and ginger scent he always associates with Brian Kinney. Brian moves his head a fraction, allowing Justin more access to his neck and ear, so Justin bites down hard on his lobe and Brian jerks against the bed.
"Watch it, kiddo, else this'll be over before it starts. And what's with the foreplay, anyhow? You're usually a stop, drop, and roll kind of kid." Brian knows Justin gets off like crazy on being dominant, so it's in Brian's best interest once in a while to let him, but still. Boy's gotta be kept in his place.
"Just lie there, can't you?" Justin knows Brian has to make some sort of fuss, so he tolerates it. Patiently.
"I can jerk off faster than thi-" and he loses track of the end of his sentence, because Justin has rolled on a condom and is inserting a lube-coated finger into Brian's small hole. Brian takes a breath and clutches the pillow and lets Justin put two, then three fingers in and slide them out slowly.
Justin trembles slightly with the effort to keep himself from ramming into Brian, knows that it would be disastrous if he did and Brian would snark for days about Justin's lack of finesse. So he eases in gently, guiding himself with one hand and keeping the other tangled in Brian's hair, and has to squeeze his eyes closed against the pleasure. He feels Brian turn slightly onto his left side and take his own cock in his right hand, but he can't look because that would be the end of it, right there. Justin's watched Brian jerk off in the shower and always has to follow suit, due to the pure hotness factor.
Brian has to clench his teeth to keep from making any noise that Justin could attribute to his own prowess, although the effort makes him sweat. The kid's cock is so fucking hard and young. Brian strokes himself lazily, letting Justin fit his way in, and when Justin starts to move Brian has to squeeze the head of his own cock or else risk coming before the kid. And wouldn't that give Justin something to sing about.
Justin takes slow, measured strokes, feeling the sweat gather at the small of Brian's back, knowing he's hitting sensitive nerves by the way Brian is clenching his buttocks each time he pumps. He rests his head between Brian's shoulders and drives deeply, sensing there's no fucking way he's going to outlast Brian because he can already feel the tingling in his balls. Fuck.
Brian half-smiles to himself when he feels Justin's stomach tighten and hears the boy whimper against the nape of his neck. Sucker. Brian knows it was over when he started stroking himself, because the kid's a huge fan of self-stimulation. Too bad. Next time, maybe he'll keep his legs in the air where they belong. And sure enough, Justin jerks twice against him, trembling with the force of his orgasm. Brian figures now's a good a time as any, so he finishes himself off while Justin still lies atop him, heavy and sated.
He rolls to the side after a minute and heaves a satisfied sigh. Brian turns to look.
"Sure," Justin shrugs nonchalantly, but Brian isn't fooled. The kid's ridiculously blue eyes are glowing.
"Good," Brian says. "That oughta do you for another year or so."
"You love it," Justin laughs, and presses a kiss to Brian's damp forehead.
Brian decides not to answer that, mostly because it's too fucking late and he has an early conference call, but also because Justin has this weird way of knowing he means the opposite of what he actually says.
"I am going to sleep now," he tells him instead, very succinctly.
"That's good," Justin agrees. "Keeping up with me is hard work."
Brian snorts at that. He pushes Justin to face away from him and then hauls him up against his chest. "Go to sleep, dynamo. I'll show you 'keeping up' in the morning."