Five.

Justin sat at the table in the loft, a mess of books and notes spread across it that he had no doubt would make Brian cringe whenever he finally made it home from sucking and fucking his way through the back room at Babylon.

Stupid art history, he thought to himself. He'd much rather be drawing or painting or using his computer to create something, rather than trying to memorize shit from the past. He knew it was all in the interest of a "well-rounded education" or some other bullshit, but he was an artist -- he wanted to make art. Not just read about it. But if he didn't pass this exam, he'd be in trouble, so at the moment, he had no choice but to suffer through reading about it and try to retain as much as his brain would allow.

He yawned and glanced over at the clock, which had just ticked past two in the morning. Brian still had an hour, as per their "agreement," but Justin was fading fast -- mostly due to boredom -- and had started to really wish Brian would just come home already, so they could fuck and go to bed.

Justin tried to force his eyes to focus on the pages of his textbook again, but he wasn't more than a few words in before he heard the sound of the elevator gate opening outside the door, followed by the jangle of keys on the other side of the lock. He heard the keys fall, and Brian's voice muttering, "Fuck," followed by more jangling and what sounded like a struggle to get the key inserted into the lock.

Laughing softly to himself as he got up from the chair, Justin started toward the door to help Brian out, but he was only about halfway there when the older man finally got the door open and stumbled in, leaning heavily on the frame.

"You're up late," Brian slurred, struggling a little to slide the door shut before he turned back around to face Justin. His pupils were dilated, and Justin could see that his cheeks were flushed even in the dim light of the loft.

"I've been studying. And you're high."

"Excellent deduction, Sunshine. I would've saved you some, but…" Brian let the sentence hang unfinished as he walked toward Justin and wrapped his arms around the younger man.

"You took it all."

"Right." Brian leaned down and kissed Justin -- a little sloppier than his usual style -- letting his hands wander down toward Justin's ass. "But there was only one problem."

"What's that?"

"It made me horny as hell." Brian pressed his substantial bulge against Justin's hip as he pulled their bodies closer together.

"Since when is that a problem for you at Babylon? Usually there's at least a half-dozen guys who would love nothing more than to suck your dick in the back room."

"I wanted you." Brian went in for another kiss, this one harder and longer, and accompanied by Brian's hands sliding under Justin's t-shirt, pushing it up. Justin felt Brian's fingers slide over his nipples, tracing circles around them and then pinching them between his fingers, gently at first, then harder, until Justin was moaning into Brian's mouth.

Already feeling himself getting hard, Justin pulled his lips away from Brian's just long enough to whisper, "Fuck me."

"Thought you'd never ask."

Brian tugged Justin in the direction of the bedroom, stumbling a little on his way up the stairs. By the time he got to the bed, he had his jeans unbuttoned, freeing his cock. He pushed Justin down onto the mattress as he worked the younger man's jeans off, fumbling more than usual with the button and zipper but eventually getting it. All the while, his lips stayed connected to Justin's, save for the few seconds every now and then when they both needed to come up for air.

Usually, Brian was a little more into foreplay, teasing Justin with his tongue and bringing him to the point where he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back any longer, then taking his time in actually fucking him and letting him have that sweet, sweet release. Tonight, however, Brian seemed focused on one thing and one thing only -- getting his dick into Justin as quickly as possible.

He had the condom on and two of his fingers in Justin's ass before the younger man had even begun to prepare, causing him to hiss a little at the intrusion, but he acclimated quickly, soon pushing back against Brian's hand, asking for more. Brian added a third finger, brushing one of them against Justin's prostate, resulting in a loud groan from Justin.

Brian continued moving his fingers in and out slowly as Justin writhed and moaned beneath him, until the blond issued his plea again, this time slightly more desperate: "Fuck me."

Apparently ready to oblige, Brian withdrew his fingers slowly -- almost painfully so -- initiating yet another loud moan from Justin. The younger man rolled over and braced himself, waiting to feel the tip of Brian's cock pushing against him before making entry, but it never came.

"Shit," Brian muttered. "Where the fuck--"

Justin pushed his hips up a little, hoping to help Brian out, but all he felt was his lover's hard dick pushing against the crease between his ass and his thigh. He tried to move right -- to get Brian into the ballpark, so to speak -- but Brian apparently moved left at the same time, resulting in another miss.

"Sunshine, quit moving."

Justin stayed as still as he could, which was difficult given how aroused he was, but Brian still couldn't seem to get it in. As he tried and missed once, twice, then three more times, his frustrated groans soon turned into that sort of maniacal laughter Brian could sometimes be prone to when he was either really, really drunk or really, really high.

Looking back over his shoulder, Justin saw Brian wiping tears out of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, still laughing, and apparently now unable to stop.

"Brian… Are you okay? What the fuck did you take?"

"Some shit from Anita," Brian gasped, in between peals of laughter that were now beginning to make him sound like he'd lost his mind. "Supposed to be E. But goddamn… That… Christ… I can't fucking see straight..."

Starting to wonder what the fuck was going on and what the hell Anita had really given Brian, Justin tried to roll over, but instead ended up causing Brian to lose his balance and fall on top of him, which only made the older man laugh even harder.

"I'm too high to fuck," Brian said, his voice comically high-pitched as tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks. "Ain't that some shit."

His own dick still painfully hard, Justin watched as Brian struggled to regain his composure, which took a few very long minutes.

"There are four of you," Brian slurred, suddenly sounding like he was about to fall asleep. "I can't tell which one to fuck."

"How about if we just lay here for a few minutes… see if it gets better?" By now, Justin's erection was beginning to flag, and he was getting a little tired himself, but his desire to have Brian inside him hadn't quite subsided, so he hoped that a few minutes of quiet time, lying still, might help.

"'kay," Brian mumbled, sliding off of Justin and rolling over onto his back, letting his eyes close. "That was some good shit."

"I'll say."

Not even a minute later, Brian was snoring.

Four.

"Do you think the delivery driver could possibly take any longer? I'm fucking starving," Justin groaned, flopping down onto his back on the floor cushion and throwing an arm over his eyes.

"You're always fucking starving." Brian laid down on his side next to Justin, propping himself up on an elbow. He reached up and pulled Justin's arm away from his face, twining their fingers together. "They did say it was going to be about an hour… I guess everyone's sick of turkey and decided to order some lo mein instead."

"An hour? I may die before then."

"Has anyone ever told you that you really should have gone into theatre instead of fine art? What with your penchant for the dramatic and all…" Brian leaned in and kissed the space just in front of Justin's ear, then started to work his way down the younger man's jawline. "I can think of something else we could do to pass the time…" Scooting his body in closer to Justin's, Brian pressed his growing erection against Justin's thigh.

"I'm too hungry to fuck."

"Maybe this will give you a little more energy…" Brian let his hands slide down Justin's torso, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants before taking Justin's cock into his mouth. It didn't take Justin long to become aroused, and soon he was panting and letting out occasional whimpers, which quickly turned into moans of pleasure when Brian cupped Justin's balls with his hand, reaching back to massage the younger man's perineum. Justin's fingers found their way into Brian's hair, tangling in it as he guided Brian to take him in deeper, which Brian happily obliged. Between the finger play and the suction, it wasn't long before Justin let out a sharp cry and shot his load down Brian's throat, his body pulsing with the strength of his orgasm.

While Justin lay there catching his breath, Brian tucked his lover's spent cock back into his briefs, then zipped and buttoned his pants before kissing his way back up Justin's abdomen until he reached his lips. He could still taste Justin's essence on his tongue as he pushed it into Justin's mouth, letting their tongues swirl around one another.

"Feeling better now?" Brian asked, his voice low and husky with his own arousal.

"Much." Justin's lips turned up into a contented smile as he closed his eyes for a moment before rolling over onto his side, pushing Brian onto his back, seemingly eager to return the favor.

Moments later, Brian's dick was engulfed in the wet heat of Justin's mouth, the younger man's tongue now swirling around his dick. He looked down and made eye contact with Justin, letting his own fingers tangle in Justin's blond locks, scrabbling for some sort of purchase. Justin was well-practiced at being able to bring Brian to orgasm quickly using not only his mouth but his fingers as well, though he seemed to be dragging this one out -- not that Brian was complaining. Brian had just started to feel the familiar tightness in his balls that signaled he was close to release when the buzzer for the downstairs door rang.

Whether Justin had forgotten about the food, or if he was just so absorbed in the task at-hand that he'd lost his sense of awareness, Brian would never know, but either way, what happened next was completely unexpected on several different counts. First, Justin pulled back abruptly, letting Brian's dick slide out from between his lips. Second, he turned his head just slightly to face the door, as if he was a little confused about what had just happened. And third, the sudden pressure Justin's fingers had exerted on the sensitive patch of skin behind his balls pushed Brian right over the edge, causing him to shoot -- into the air and straight into Justin's right eye.

Instantly, Justin was pulled right back to reality, crying out in pain as he squeezed his eyes shut and clapped a hand over his eye.

"Oh god… What the fuck? Oh my god… Jesus, it burns!"

Brian was frozen for a moment, not quite sure what to do, particularly since a significant portion of his brain was still off somewhere in post-climax bliss. This was a first, and for Brian Kinney, that was saying something. Meanwhile, Justin was writhing on the floor, moaning in pain. Ever the drama princess.

Justin moved his hand and tried to open his eyes briefly, but quickly squeezed them shut again. "Oh god," he cried. "I'm blind. I'm an artist, and I'm blind!"

"You're not blind," Brian said calmly, trying not to sound annoyed at Justin's histrionics as his own wits slowly returned to him. "Calm down… Let me take you to the shower and I'll help you rinse it out." Brian reached out for Justin's hand, but the younger man quickly jerked it out of his grip.

"I'm not going anywhere with you! You've already blinded me!"

The buzzer rang a third time, prompting Brian to push himself up from the floor with a grunt. He tugged his pants back up as he made his way to the intercom, where he pushed the button to unlock the door and let the delivery person into the building without engaging in any sort of conversation, lest they think he was torturing Justin.

"Come on." Brian walked back over to Justin and took his hands to pull him up to his feet. By then, tears were running down Justin's face, making him look even more pathetic and miserable. "Let's get you into the bathroom, I'll pay for the food, and then we'll take a shower."

"Okay," Justin whimpered, clearly in pain, which was likely the only reason he was suddenly so agreeable.

Brian put an arm around Justin's waist, guiding him carefully up the stairs to the bedroom and into the bathroom, though keeping him from tripping up the steps was a bit of a challenge. He turned the shower on, helped Justin out of his clothes, then gently pushed him into the glass shower enclosure and under the spray.

"Try to start rinsing it out. I'll be right back."

Brian made it to the door just in time, sliding it open to shove two $20 bills into the hand of the delivery person, muttering at them to "keep the change" as he took the bag of food and tossed it onto the counter. When he got back to the bathroom, Justin was standing under the spray, his face upturned, trying to hold his eye open but apparently unable to do it for more than a second or two. Quickly, Brian shed his clothes and stepped into the shower with Justin.

"Here." Brian laid his hands on Justin's shoulders and turned the younger man toward him, then gathered as much water as he could in his cupped hands so he could use it to gently rinse out Justin's eye. "Let me help you."

After several minutes of rinsing, Justin's eye was red and irritated, but he could finally keep it open. "I'd better not catch anything from that," he grumbled.

"I'm clean. I just got tested. You know that."

"Good, because I don't want to have to explain to my mother that I got some horrible disease from taking a shot of jizz to the eyeball."

"Do you forgive me?" Brian wrapped his arms around Justin, enjoying the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other as the water continued to cascade down on them, and knowing from the way the tension suddenly melted out of Justin's body that he was enjoying it just as much.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Kinney."

Three.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, dear." Justin closed his sketchbook and got up from the futon, crossing the loft to give Brian a hug and a kiss.

"That doesn't answer my question. It's 10 pm on a school night, and you don't live here, remember?" Brian unwound his scarf from around his neck, then took off his coat and draped it over one of the chairs at the bar before plunking his briefcase down on the counter.

"Daph's got some sort of virus. She texted me while I was at work and told me not to come home. I guess she's throwing up everywhere or something."

"Lovely." Brian's tone was sarcastic, but he also sounded tired, not to mention slightly annoyed, as he walked over to his desk and sank down into the chair.

"What's up your ass?" Justin followed Brian to the desk, pausing behind him to massage his shoulders, which were tight with tension.

"Nothing I want to be there," Brian sighed, leaning into Justin's touch and allowing his eyes to close. "This fucking Eyeconics account is going to be the death of me, I swear. I need to fire the entire art department, but that's the last thing I feel like dealing with right now."

"Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you can make me suddenly start feeling human again. Fucking radiation."

"Your body needs time to recover. Be patient." Continuing to rub Brian's shoulders, Justin leaned down to kiss his cheek. "It's not going to happen overnight."

"I don't have time to be patient. I own my own business. I've got shit I have to get done." His eyes still closed, Brian leaned his body back farther in the chair, continuing to lean into the younger man's touch. "God, that feels good."

"I bet I know how to make you feel even better," Justin purred as he rotated Brian's desk chair around and straddled the older man's legs, taking a seat on his lap just long enough to kiss him before letting his tongue drift downward, unbuttoning Brian's shirt and then his pants as he made his way south, finally settling onto his knees in front of his lover. "Maybe even human."

Brian let out a low moan as Justin's tongue traced its way from his navel down to the object of Justin's affection, at least for that particular moment. As Justin took Brian's length into his mouth, the older man inhaled sharply, his eyes still closed. Working oh-so-slowly, Justin traced the tip of Brian's cock with his tongue, tasting the slightly salty wetness there.

He was a few minutes in, his head bobbing up and down in Brian's lap, when Brian's breathing started to become more rapid, signaling that he was getting close. Justin took that as his cue to swallow around Brian's cock, effectively pushing him over the edge. No sooner had he swallowed Brian's load, though, than a sudden cramp took hold in his abdomen, causing him to groan loudly as he slid down to the floor, clutching his stomach. Then, just as quickly as the cramp had occurred, it was replaced by an overwhelming feeling of nausea.

"Fuck," Justin murmured, trying to gather up enough energy to get up off the floor before he ended up being sick all over Brian's designer shoes. Finally, he managed to get to his feet and stumble up the stairs into the bedroom, then the bathroom, where he barely made it to the toilet before the entire contents of his stomach came back for an encore -- his dinner, plus more. He was dry heaving and sweating, his eyes watering as he clutched the toilet seat tightly, when he heard Brian's voice coming from the doorway.

"Nice touch," Brian drawled, leaning casually against the frame. "Good to know that blowing me now causes nausea and vomiting."

"Fuck you," Justin moaned, wrapping his arms around his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut as another cramp worked its way through his gut.

"Seems like that might be off the table for now."

"That's not fucking funny. I really am sick."

As he sat on the floor in front of the toilet, trying desperately to catch his breath, Justin heard the tap turn on briefly. A few seconds later, he felt a cool washcloth being draped across the back of his neck.

"And here I thought I had the monopoly on puking my guts out in this bathroom," Brian said, his voice much softer as he knelt next to Justin, his warm hand tracing comforting circles over the slightly damp cotton of Justin's t-shirt.

"Sorry," Justin whispered, feeling the tenderness of Brian's touch and wishing just a little that he hadn't cursed at him, but that cramp had fucking hurt.

"Sorry's bullshit." Brian repeated his rote response to apologies, exactly as Justin had come to expect, though his tone was still the quiet, understanding one that few people ever heard from Brian Kinney. "But warn Daphne that if I end up with this shit, I'm coming for her."

Justin let out a laugh that quickly turned into a sob as another cramp took hold.

"Come on." Brian's hands -- as gentle as his voice -- came under Justin's arms, helping him to his feet. "Looks like it's my turn to take care of you."

Two.

"Merry… Christmas… Sunshine…" Brian grunted in time with his thrusts, his hips colliding with Justin's ass with each word as he pounded into him from behind.

Each time Brian felt himself hit the younger man's prostate, Justin would respond with a groan of pleasure. Brian felt Justin push back against him as his own movements started to become more erratic as he approached climax. No matter how well-practiced Brian was when it came to fucking, the moments as he approached orgasm had always been out of his control, where sheer primal drive would take over and his body seemed to momentarily lose its connection with his brain.

Moving together in concert -- Brian moving in and out of Justin's ass as Justin rocked back into him -- they reached their peak together, Brian's release filling the condom as Justin's spurted onto the sheets below him before they both collapsed to the bed, their chests heaving, skin glistening with sweat as if they'd just run a mile.

"I must have been a very good boy," Justin murmured, once his breath had returned to normal.

"I'm surprised you still have room to fuck. I'm pretty sure you ate more cookies than Gus tonight."

"They were good cookies. And that's why I told you that we needed to go."

"And here I thought you just wanted to escape from the insanity that is Debbie Novotny's Christmas Eve Extravaganza."

"That too. But the Christmas Eve fuck… that was a necessity."

"And now you can eat the cookies she sent home with us too."

"Those were for you, I believe. I seem to remember Debbie saying something about how you were 'too fucking skinny for your own good.'"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Besides, one day that teenage metabolism of yours is going to go away. Might as well take advantage of it while you've still got it. Oh wait, what's this…?" Brian pinched a small bit of skin near Justin's waist. "Is that fluff?"

"Stop it." Justin swatted Brian's hand away. "I do not have fluff."

"Oh yes you do. Is that a little belly I see sticking out right there?" Brian poked at Justin's stomach, then brushed his fingers lightly across it in a tickling motion, which caused the younger man to curl up involuntarily as he pushed Brian's hands away again.

"Stop it!" Justin cried, laughing a little. "I mean it!"

"Or else what?"

"Or else I'm never letting you fuck me again."

"Ha! Idle threats! You love letting me fuck you just as much as I love fucking you. You'd sooner die."

Deciding to take the risk, Brian tickled Justin again, enjoying watching his partner squirm and try to wriggle away as Brian moved on top of him, holding him down as he tickled his stomach. Justin was flailing his arms and legs, laughing uncontrollably now as he pleaded with Brian to stop, and it was all fun and games until Justin's knee made contact with Brian's groin, causing his world to explode into pain.

Brian wasn't sure he'd ever felt a pain quite like this in his life. It was like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving him gasping for breath as wave after wave of intense pain pulsed up from his testicles into his stomach, making him feel like his insides were being twisted and squeezed mercilessly. He could feel what little he'd eaten at Debbie's Christmas dinner churning in his stomach as tears sprang to his eyes, one of them escaping to run down his cheek before he was even fully aware of what was happening.

Vaguely, he thought he heard Justin's voice, though he couldn't make out what was being said over the loud roaring noise in his own ears.

After what seemed like an eternity of feeling like his entire body was nothing more than a giant nerve ending, Brian was finally able to catch his breath, though the pulsing pain in his groin had still not gone away, and the intense ache in his stomach had intensified, making him feel like he was going to be sick. Once the roaring in his ears had subsided, the first thing Brian heard was Justin's voice, small and meek and not sounding much like himself, saying, "Brian? Are you alright?"

It took Brian several more seconds to get his voice to work, choking out the words, "You kneed me in the fucking balls."

"You were tickling me."

"So you decided to fucking kill me?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. Seriously, are you okay?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

"Should we go to the emergency room?"

"No. Now stop talking."

Squeezing his eyes shut as he curled in on himself, Brian tried to focus on taking deep breaths, waiting and hoping for the nausea to fade before he ended up vomiting on his own bed, because there was no way in hell he could stand up or walk at the moment. It took what seemed like another eternity before he felt like he could move without being sick, but he finally managed to roll over onto his back and speak without sounding like he was forcing the words out, though the vice-like feeling of compression in his abdomen was still very, very present, and likely would be for a while.

"Please never do that again," Brian breathed.

"Don't tickle me again, and you've got yourself a deal."

Brian cracked one eye open and looked over at Justin, whose face wasn't nearly remorseful enough for what he'd just done -- in fact, Brian wasn't sure it was remorseful at all, considering the fact that Justin was smirking at him.

"You think this is funny?"

"Well, I did try to warn you…"

"Payback's a bitch, Sunshine. Just you wait."

One.

"I got us a present!" Justin strolled into the loft, a gleeful smile on his face as he tossed his messenger bag onto a chair and started taking off his coat. He'd worked the late shift at the diner as he always did on Wednesdays. He was used to coming home and finding Brian on his computer, so it surprised him to see the desk chair empty, but one glance into the bedroom revealed Brian sitting up in bed with his laptop. Same task, different location, apparently.

"Do I even want to know?" Brian looked up from his computer screen, a clearly skeptical expression on his face, complete with his signature raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I think you might be a little bit interested," Justin said innocently as he walked up the steps into the bedroom, holding a nondescript brown paper bag in his right hand.

"In your uneaten lunch? Or is it some of that god-awful chicken soup from the diner?"

"Guess again." Still clutching the bag, Justin climbed up onto the bed, moving the laptop aside before straddling Brian's legs, kissing him hard.

"Some other sort of calorie bomb Debbie sent you home with?"

"It's not food."

"Okay, then what is it?"

"Guess."

"I'm tired, and I've had a shit day, so unless you've got alcohol or some other mind-altering substance in there, I'm not sure I'm interested."

"That's where you're wrong." Justin opened the bag and reached in, pulling out the shiny, stainless steel buttplug he'd seen in one of the sex shops on Liberty Avenue while shopping for a gag gift for Emmett's birthday earlier that afternoon. He felt Brian's hands come to rest on his hips, the older man's slender fingers gripping his ass cheeks.

"Hmm…" Brian pulled his lips into his mouth, looking between Justin and the glistening object in his hand. "Seems like this might be more of a gift for you than for me."

"Maybe. But it could be a gift for you… if you want it to be." Justin leaned in and kissed Brian again, letting his tongue get in on the action this time. "Sounds like you've had a hard day…" he whispered, lowering his voice and adopting a seductive tone. "Let me take care of you."

Their lips connected again, and seconds ticked by that felt like hours as Justin waited to see if Brian was going to turn him down. It wasn't very often that Brian agreed to be the one on the receiving end, even with his vast collection of dildos, anal beads, and other various sex toys he kept in a drawer. Sometimes Justin wondered why he had so many, given that Brian was and had always been the consummate top, so far as Justin knew. Though perhaps some questions were better left unanswered.

When their lips finally parted, Brian didn't say anything -- instead studying Justin for a second or two, a lustful look in his eyes that led Justin to assume that, as expected, he'd be the one trying out his purchase that night. Then, Brian took a deep breath and rolled over.

For a moment, it was hard for Justin to keep his composure because he was so surprised that Brian had consented so quickly to letting Justin try their new toy out on him, but he managed to remain cool and unaffected on the outside, even though inside he was so excited he could barely contain himself.

"I thought you said you wanted to take care of me."

Brian's voice, muffled slightly by the pillow his mouth was partially pressed into, brought Justin back to reality. Still straddling him, Justin pushed Brian's t-shirt up, then leaned down and touched his tongue to Brian's spine, tracing the line of his lover's backbone down to his ass. When Justin got there, he worked Brian's sweatpants down as Brian lifted his hips, giving him access to where he'd already been headed. Justin teased Brian with his breath first, then slowly traced the edge of Brian's opening with his tongue, hearing the older man's sharp intake of breath, followed by a barely audible moan. When he felt he'd teased Brian enough, he pushed the tip of his tongue just inside, feeling Brian tense up at first, then relax and give in to the intrusion.

Justin worked his tongue in and out, feeling Brian lean into him, letting out small, involuntary whimpers each time Justin's tongue made its entrance. When he felt he had Brian sufficiently prepared, Justin pulled away, causing Brian to groan at the sudden emptiness. Justin reached for the lube they always kept on the bedside table and coated the butt plug before pressing the metal tip to Brian's opening. Brian gasped when it made contact, likely from the coolness of the metal.

Knowing he had to go slowly, as was always the case on the very rare occasions when Brian let Justin top him, Justin pushed the tip a tiny bit farther, pulsing it in and out and using the tapered shape of the toy to his advantage. His movements were slight, but they were still causing Brian to let out quiet moans that gradually got louder as Justin inserted the toy further, until it made contact with Brian's prostate, turning his moan into a loud cry.

Brian's breathing started to speed up even more than it already had, responding as Justin moved the toy in and out, pressing against Brian's prostate with each stroke, quickly leading him toward climax. Justin's fingers were slick with lube, making it harder to hold onto the toy as he inserted it farther and farther each time, with Brian rocking back against him, wordlessly asking for more.

Seconds later, Justin felt Brian's entire body tense beneath him, followed by the rhythmic pulses of his orgasm, his ass clenching against the butt plug with each spasm, the last contraction strong enough to pull the base of the toy out of Justin's grip. At first, Justin wasn't worried; he knew Brian wouldn't want him to move it just yet anyhow, as he lay prone on the bed, still trembling a little from the force of his orgasm. Instead, Justin laid down beside him, kissing his shoulder, then his lips, their foreheads resting against one another as he waited for Brian to catch his breath.

After several minutes of lying together, Brian broke contact as he lifted his hips and reached back, presumably to remove the toy. Confusion crossed his face momentarily before he settled back down against the bed, murmuring, "God, that thing was so fucking amazing that it feels like it's still inside me."

"It is." Now Justin was the one who was confused.

"What? I don't feel anything--" Brian reached back again, his movements slightly more frantic this time. "Oh god. Don't tell me--"

"Relax," Justin said, keeping his voice calm. "Lift your hips up again, and I'll get it. It was pretty deep, but it wasn't that deep."

Brian did as Justin asked, and Justin expected to see the end of the toy glistening in Brian's opening, even in the low light of the bedroom, but instead, he saw nothing. Justin pushed his finger inside, again reminding Brian to relax. He managed to touch the tip of his finger to the base of the plug, but it had migrated so far upward that he couldn't hook his finger around it to start to pull it out.

"Well?" Brian sounded impatient now, and panic was apparent in his voice, even from the single word he'd uttered.

"Um… Can you relax a little bit more? Let me see if I can get another finger in there…" Justin added a second finger, but he still couldn't get a good enough grip on the toy. He tried two or three more times, each time feeling like he was getting closer, but on the last try, his fingers slipped and the toy moved upward just a little more, out of his reach.

The slight movement had apparently been enough to change the angle of the plug against Brian's prostate, causing him to let out a desperate-sounding whimper.

"Sorry, sorry," Justin whispered.

"Don't say you're sorry… Pull the damn thing out."

"I'm trying but I can't get ahold of it. I need you to relax more."

Brian kept trying to relax more, and Justin kept trying to retrieve the toy, but time and time again, he came back empty-handed. As each minute ticked by, Brian became more and more agitated, and Justin became more and more desperate.

"Maybe if I can get my whole hand in there, I can--"

"No." Brian cut him off, his voice firm despite the slight waver it had as the plug apparently shifted against his prostate again.

"But that's the only way I can get a grip on it. It's too far up in there now… I can't reach it with just my fingers."

"You are not fisting me. Not now, not ever."

"I don't see any other options."

"Why the fuck did you push it so far up in there?"

"I didn't. You came so hard that you… pulled it in? I guess?"

"Great. Just fucking great. This is why I don't bottom."

"I didn't mean to do it."

"Well, it's done. Now we have to figure out how to undo it."

"So… how do we do that?"

Brian let out a loud sigh, and Justin wondered for a moment if he was about to consent to letting Justin do what he'd suggested, but instead, Brian sat up, slowly and carefully, then stood, pulling up his sweatpants and grimacing slightly at the movement.

"What are you doing?" Justin asked.

"Getting dressed, because we're going to the emergency room."

"But I really think I can get it if I--"

"No."

"Please, let me try--"

"No," Brian repeated. "Absolutely not."

"Are you sure you want to get… doctors… involved?"

"Well, they have tools that can help us get this thing out that don't involve you fucking fisting me."

On unsteady legs, Brian limped down the steps and across the loft, Justin trailing behind him. He grabbed the keys to the Corvette off the kitchen island and tossed them to Justin, who barely caught them.

"I just figured you wouldn't want anyone else to know--"

"You're driving," Brian said, cutting Justin off. "And we're not going downtown. You're taking me out to the suburbs. Where hopefully no one knows who the fuck I am."

They left the loft and took the elevator down, Brian leaning heavily against the wall, his head back and his eyes closed. When they got to the Corvette, Brian lowered himself gingerly down into the passenger seat, groaning and wincing as he did it.

"So, where are we going?" Justin asked, as he watched Brian try to find a comfortable position.

"I don't give a fuck," Brian gritted out. "Just drive, away from the city, then find a hospital."

"We could go to West Virginia… I doubt anyone would know you there."

"I hope to never have any reason to go to West Virginia, especially not this. Just get on the highway and drive, but stay in Pennsylvania."

Justin did as he was told, heading north, away from downtown, toward rural Western Pennsylvania. Each time he hit a bump, Brian would shudder and moan in the passenger seat. At first, Justin thought he was in pain, but as the sounds Brian was making got closer to the sounds he made when they had sex, he realized that every bump was probably causing the butt plug to hit Brian's prostate. He had to fight not to laugh as Brian let out a particularly loud groan, because even though Justin felt terrible that he'd caused Brian's predicament, the fact that Brian Kinney -- perhaps Liberty Avenue's most infamous top -- was currently sitting in the passenger seat of his own car, being fucked by an inanimate object was, at the very least, just a tiny bit funny.

"What the fuck are you smiling at?" Brian growled.

"Nothing." Justin tried to assume a neutral facial expression as quickly as he could, but it was hard, and ended up being made even more difficult by the fact that two seconds later, a pothole caused Brian to shudder yet again.

"You fucking did this to me."

"Sorry. I had help, though. If you hadn't come so hard--"

"And you think there was something I could do about that?"

"Well, I guess not--"

"So that makes it your fault."

"Brian, I really am sorry."

"Sorry's bullshit."

"How far out do you want to go?"

"Keep driving. And don't talk. Or smile."

They rode in silence for twenty more minutes, until they passed a sign that indicated there was a hospital at the next exit.

"Get off here," Brian grunted, obviously still struggling to remain in full control of his faculties.

Justin followed the signs to the hospital, parking the car as close to the emergency room entrance as he could. Getting out of the car seemed much more difficult for Brian than getting into it had been. He looked like his knees were weak, and Justin had to wonder how close he was to having another orgasm, whether he wanted to or not. Justin wrapped an arm around Brian's waist to help hold him up as they moved at a glacial pace toward the sliding glass doors and into the bright fluorescent light of the emergency room lobby.

Trying to explain what had happened and what they needed to the triage nurse was embarrassing to say the least, but the nurse seemed nonplussed, simply saying, "You're not the first, and you won't be the last," as she took them into an exam room.

"Nice to know this happens every day," Brian murmured, once they were alone.

"I'm sure she's right. I mean, I've read about people losing Legos and all sorts of weird things up there. At least this is actually a sex toy and not like… a cucumber or something."

"Remind me to never let you anywhere near my ass ever again. Particularly not with any produce."

The doctor came into the room then, impressing Justin with his ability to maintain a strictly professional demeanor as he examined Brian and listened to the story. He sent Brian off for an x-ray, the results of which took a very long hour to get back, made even longer by the uncomfortable silence between Justin and Brian.

Finally, they started the actual process of removing the butt plug, involving a pair of forceps and Justin being sent out of the room while Brian assumed a very compromising position intended to make removal as easy as possible. It didn't sound easy, though, and Justin heard a lot of whimpering and grunting and cursing coming from inside the room before the doctor emerged again and Justin was allowed to go back in.

Brian was lying back on the gurney, sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes closed, a little bit breathless. Meanwhile, the butt plug sat in a stainless steel tray on the counter, a small spot of blood marring the gleaming metal surface on one side, the sight of which caused Justin to feel guilty all over again. He refrained from apologizing this time, though, sure that Brian wouldn't accept it anyhow.

Fifteen minutes later, Brian had been discharged and they were on their way back to Pittsburgh, and thirty minutes after that, they were back in the loft, lying in bed together, Brian high on painkillers and Justin still feeling incredibly guilty. He was, however, grateful that Brian was still letting him touch him, and didn't seem to be too angry. Uncomfortable, yes. Angry, no. Surprisingly.

"I can't believe you asked them if you could keep it," Justin said, glancing over at the clear plastic bag on the bedside table. "And they let you."

"Somehow I don't think they were too interested in keeping it themselves. Besides, I think we could have a lot more fun with it. After all, I haven't had a chance to try it out on you…"