I Dream of Justin
Brian walked into the loft and was greeted by the sound of laughter. It was late - he hadn’t left Babylon till the last call was announced - and he wondered what his resident blond could possibly be watching at that time of night. After hanging up his jacket, he peeked over the back of the couch and saw that the kid was once again imbibing the drivel that ran after hours on Nick at Night.
“I don’t know how you can watch this crap,” Brian voiced his usual complaint. “That show was ancient when I was a kid. How can it be at all entertaining in the year 2020?”
“Oh come on, Brian, this show is totally a classic. It’s absolutely hilarious. Especially this episode,” Justin insisted, setting aside his bowl of popcorn so he could grab the remote control and pause his DVR’d show. “See, Tony got volunteered to escort this princess around while she visits NASA but Jeannie’s family has a long-standing feud with the royal family and has vowed to kill the woman, so Tony has to send Jeannie off on all these stupid errands to try to distract her and keep the princess safe. The stuff that genie gets up to . . . It’s absolutely bonkers, poor Tony.”
“Like I always said, Tony should’ve used his last wish to send the bitch packing so he didn’t have to deal with her for the next 25 seasons.”
“What would be the fun in that?” Justin teased. “Besides, that’s not how wishes work. Don’t you know that genies are naturally tricky? You almost never get what you’re expecting when you make a wish. That’s a given.”
“Only if you’re a total moron,” Brian concluded. “You just have to be specific about what you wish for.”
Justin laughed, but Brian could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Uh huh. So, Mr. Kinney, what would be your first wish?”
As he asked the question, the sultry blond got up on his hands and knees and crawled along the length of the sofa till he was close enough to reach out and begin unbuttoning Brian‘s jeans. Brian threaded his hands through the golden floss that was his partner’s hair and began to press the boy’s head down towards his crotch. Who needed wishes when you had a twink with perfect lips?
“Admit it, Brian. This goes perfectly here on the bookcase. Plus, it’s Italian, right, so it matches the furniture.”
Brian looked at the dusty old bottle Justin had talked him into buying after they’d seen it in the window of the antique shop that abutted the pharmacy. They’d only gone down there because they were out of Brian’s favorite lube; he definitely hadn’t planned on window shopping for knick knacks. But the guy at the store had convinced Brian that the blue bottle was true Venetian glass and worth far more than the lousy $150 he’d charged for it. Brian’s plan was to contact an art dealer and offload the piece of crap at a tidy profit as soon as possible. No matter what Justin was thinking, he wasn’t gonna have that dust collector cluttering up his bookcase forever.
“Whatever,” Brian dismissed the overly enthusiastic youth’s gushing. “But if you’re gonna leave it there, at least wipe the dirt off it.”
However, Justin had already wandered up the stairs yelling over his shoulder that he had to piss. Brian wasn’t about to let the disgusting thing just sit there, though. The OCD kicked in, causing him to pick up a dish towel off the kitchen counter and stride across the loft to retrieve the dusty object.
As he hefted the crusty old bottle, Brian took time to admire the deep blue color and the intricate cut-crystal design. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a total piece of junk after all. It looked hand-blown and was clearly old. It might actually turn out to be as valuable as that junk dealer had promised. Of course, it was hard to tell through the decades of grime.
With the bottle held firmly in one hand and the towel in the other. Brian began to scrub at the outside of the more bulbous end.
It took a little elbow grease, but before too long the blue crystal began to shine. “Not bad. Not bad at all,” Brian muttered as he surveyed his handiwork, privately noting that the glass was tinted the same color blue Justin’s eyes became right before the young man orgasmed.
With a chuckle at this unexpected insight, Brian redoubled his cleaning efforts. But, as his towel moved up the neck of the bottle, Brian‘s hand accidentally dislodged the stopper. The solid knot of glass, which looked like it was made of a different substance then the more delicate bottle, fell to the floor and rolled under the edge of the bookcase. Brian grumbled, but didn’t bother to bend and pick it up, intent on finishing his current task first.
Which is when something very, very strange happened.
Brian was giving the neck of the bottle one last good swipe with his towel when he was surprised by an odd hissing noise. A second later, wisps of bluish smoke started to percolate up from what he’d thought was an empty bottle. Brian immediately set the bottle back down on its shelf and stepped away, pulling his T-shirt up to cover his face in case the fumes were toxic. Instead of dissipating, however, the blue smoke that was coming out of the bottle became thicker and thicker and thicker. Before long there was a small cloud of bluish vapor hovering in a blob in front of the bookcase. Brian kept backing away, further and further from the emanations, until he was prevented from going any farther by backing into the couch, and ended up toppling onto his ass.
“What the fuck!” Brian just stared, completely shocked, and momentarily at a loss for how to react. Eventually, he remembered himself and yelled, “Justin! Get your ass out here and help me get rid of this hazardous-waste container you brought into our loft!”
Oddly enough there was no answer from the boy, who Brian just now realized had been in the bathroom for an awfully long time. Hopefully Justin hadn’t already succumbed to the fumes. Meanwhile, one small portion of Brian‘s brain was wondering why the smoke detector hadn’t yet gone off. It was probably because this particular blue smoke wasn’t behaving normally; instead of dissipating around the room, the little cloud of blueness seemed to be coalescing into a tighter and tighter plume.
In fact, the puffs of smoke appeared to be consolidating into definitive shapes. At the top, there was a more less round blob, below that was a longer oblong section, and further down still, the vapor was tapering off into almost a point. By that point Brian was more curious about the smoke than afraid of it, so he mostly just sat and stared. And before he knew it, those nebulous shapes became more and more distinct, integrating and amalgamating, until Brian was able to clearly make out an object materializing out of the blue mist.
Of course, all of this was happening faster than Brian‘s brain could fully register what was going on. One minute he was sitting on the couch surrounded by a fog of blue smoke, and the next, *poof*, he was confronted by the figure of a lithesome, blond youth standing in front of him, seemingly appearing out of mid-air. Only, the youth now standing in front of him was not a stranger . . .
“Justin? What the fuck is going on? Is this some kind of joke?” Brian confronted the vision that had appeared in front of him. “Did you slip me some LSD or something when we stop for coffee? This is definitely one of the weirdest trips I’ve ever had.”
Instead of replying with the usual flippant snark, the blue-eyed blond standing in front of Brian remained calm, raising his arms with an elegant fluidity, bringing his palms together below the square jaw almost as if he were praying, and then offering a deep and lingering bow.
“I am Jinn of Samarkand. What mortal has summoned me from my long rest?” the figure intoned in a deep and heavily accented voice that didn’t sound at all like Brian’s twink.
“Cut the crap, Justin. This is stupid,” Brian snarled, looking at the boy’s costume with total disdain. “What? Did you think I’d be amused by you parading around, dressed like a reject from an Off-Broadway Aladdin revival?”
But the boy didn’t relent, merely standing there in his powder blue, poofy, gauze-like pants, a skimpy blue velvet vest that left his chest mostly uncovered, and a stupid little pillbox hat with a tassel hanging down from the side, eyeing Brian with imperturbable serenity.
Brian started to chuckle, willing to admit it was a pretty good joke, but he was interrupted when the boy dropped to his knees and started to kiss Brian’s feet . . . a very un-Justin-like action.
“Thou hast freed me from my eternal imprisonment, Master. Jinn is in your debt. As is the custom, thou art now allotted three boons as your reward.” Without raising his head or moving from his position of obeisance, the sultry blond continued, “what dost thou require of me, O Master?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. You know, I think you might’ve been watching that stupid old comedy show a bit too much, Justin. Now, get out of those stupid clothes and stop fucking around.”
Brian grabbed hold of the youth’s shoulder and started to manhandle him up from his kneeling position. Within moments, though, there was a clap of thunder, seemingly right above Brian head, and the hand holding Justin’s shoulder received a strong electric shock. Brian immediately let go, shaking his hand in pain, trying to get the feeling back.
“Thou shall not lay hands upon my person! To touch the Djinn without permission is sacrilege! Come near me again with your insolent paw and I shall rip your limbs from their sockets!” the figure now standing in front of Brian commanded, the familiar face somehow morphing into an ugly and threatening mien that didn’t look at all like the sweet little twink Brian was used to.
Brian instantly raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, leaning back as far away from the scary Justin as he could. “What. The. Fuck. Justin?”
“That is better,” Scary Justin replied. “Now, do not waste my time further, mortal. I have been captured in that contrivance for two millennia, and I have much better things to do than to tarry here.” Taking a step backward, the Aladdin-wanna-be raised his arms and crossed them in front of his face with his elbows held high. “Thou art entitled to command of me three wishes, Master. What is your desire?”
“Shit,” Brian mumbled, still rubbing at his smarting hand. “Fine, I’ll play along. But lay off the fucking S&M shit. I’m the Dom, remember?”
The inscrutable genie continued to stare back at Brian, his impassive face giving nothing away. The way the boy was standing there, so still, so devoid of any reaction, was actually kind of freaking Brian out a little bit. He hadn’t known Justin was such a good actor. But, whatever. If this was the game the boy wanted to play tonight, Brian supposed he could join in. It wasn’t the weirdest kink he’d ever participated in, not by far, so why the hell not, right?
“OK, fine . . . I get the proverbial three wishes for saving you from the fucking bottle. A little cliché, don’t you think?” When there still wasn’t any reaction from his personal Genie, Brian gave up. “Right. So, let me think . . .” Brian wasn’t sure he was enjoying this joke, but Justin's silly little outfit at least gave him some inspiration. “Very well. For my first wish I would like a harem of beautiful boys, all intent on pleasing me endlessly.”
“Very well. Thy wish is my command, Master.” The scary Justin creature gave a sharp nod, blinking his eyes at the same time, in a much more forceful parody of the sitcom genie Justin had been watching the night before.
Brian couldn’t help laughing. This whole scenario was absolutely ridiculous. I mean, he did give the boy points for imagination, but really? A Genie and his Master? It was sophomoric at best.
But Brian‘s laughter died on his lips half a second later when another poof of blue mist began swirling through the loft, thick enough this time that it almost completely obscured his vision. Brian frantically began to wave the smoke away from his face, coughing a little as he got a lung full of blueness. Oddly enough, the smoke tasted a little bit like peppermint.
“Your harem, Master,” The blue Genie declared, dispersing the smoke with one broadly flung arm, as he gestured behind him toward what used to be Brian’s kitchen.
Apparently, though, the kitchen had disappeared. In fact, the entire loft had disappeared. It had all been replaced by a large cavernous room with bare stone walls and tiled floors, completely bereft of any furniture, save for numerous piles of embroidered tapestry pillows. At the far end of the room, Brian could discern a sunken pool, it’s heated waters slightly obscured by the moist mist hovering over the depths. But even more impressive than the room he was looking at, were the inhabitants. Everywhere he looked within this huge expensansive room, Brian saw hordes of beautiful, naked boys.
“Holy fucking shit! Damn, Justin! Whatever drugs you dosed me with . . . This shit is amazing! I am totally tripping. In a good way, though.”
Brian hadn’t even gotten all those words out, however, before several of the nubile young men had risen from their cushions and begun to gather around him. The scene confronting Brian was pretty much his most ardent fantasy. There was every type of man imaginable in his new harem. Tall, short, thin, muscled, athletic, soft . . . There were blonds, brunets, and redheads. He saw black skin, olive skin, pale white flesh, dusky Indians, sallow Asians, and a few who were even more exotic. they were all naked. They were all hard. And they all wanted Brian.
Yep. They all wanted him. They all wanted him right that moment.
And they were very insistent about it.
“Master, let me pleasure you,” one Arabic-looking sylph begged as the boy dropped to his knees and began to undo Brian‘s pants.
“I must see your beautiful body, Master,” a tall, bald, African insisted, coming up behind Brian and wrapping his hands around so he could unbutton the Master’s shirt.
And before Brian knew what was happening there were at least two dozen hands pulling at him from every angle. His clothes have been ripped off him. They were mouths and fingers touching him everywhere. At first it was like a dream come true. All those insistent caresses were met with instant lust. Seriously, what red blooded gay man didn’t fantasize about an orgy comprised of willing partners all clamoring for his attention?
But then - sooner than you’d expect - Brian started to feel a little overwhelmed. How many boys we’re in this fucking harem anyway? It felt like there must be a hundred or more, judging by the number of hands that were groping at his body. They weren’t being all that gentle about it either.
“I love you, Master!”
“Let me show you how much I can please you!”
“Let me in. I must show the Master how much I adore him!”
“Choose me, Mmaster. Choose me!”
“I will pleasure you.”
“Pleasure you . . .”
“Pleasure . . .”
“Endlessly pleasure you . . .”
They were all bellowing and begging and pleading for Brian to show them some attention. One hundred men pushing themselves on him. Aggressively. They were literally fighting to get to him. Their hands were grappling at any part of his body they could hold onto; practically tearing at him. And the ones that had managed to reach the more tender parts of Brian’s anatomy, we’re forced to grip rather hard, so as not to lose their place to the others. Even the first one, the one who had started on a blow job as soon as he got Brian‘s pants off, acted as if he were more interested in devouring Brian then sucking him off. Any sense of pleasure Brian might’ve had in those first few minutes, rapidly evaporated.
“Justin! Justin, help me! Get them the fuck off! Stop it! Stop! HELP!”
“Art thou already bored with thy harem, Master?” Jinn appeared out of nowhere, somehow hovering high enough to see over the throngs of ravening sex fiends attacking him, a nasty sneer on his usually placid face.
“Get them off me!” Brian screamed just as the one at his cock took a rather painful bite.
“As you wish, Master.” The boy raised his crossed arms, nodded, and blinked again.
And all the harem boys vanished in a hundred puffs of blue smoke.
“What the hell was that all about, Justin? Fuck! I think that last one actually drew blood,” Brian moaned as he looked down at his rather mangled dick.
“Did you not say you wanted a harem full of boys INTENT on pleasuring you ENDLESSLY, Master,” the genie replied with a low snicker of amusement.
“Fuck you, Justin,” Brian growled. “I’m done with this little game of yours. I’m going to go lie down and sleep off whatever this shit is that you gave me. I suggest you scurry off to your bottle, or wherever else you go to when you’re not tormenting me, and you just better hope I don’t remember any of this in the morning or I’ll have to punish you. Severely.”
Brian turned his back on the boy-cum-genie and looked around the empty harem room, trying to figure out where his bedroom was hiding. When he couldn’t figure that out he sighed and just dropped on top of the nearest pile of cushions. He supposed he could sleep there as well as anywhere. Fucking bad trips. He really should quit doing acid; it never worked out well for him.
“I can not return to my sanctuary until thou hast made all of thy wishes, Master,” the Jinn replied, drifting over to hover in the air about a foot above Brian’s pile of pillows. “Until I have fulfilled my obligations, I am bound to remain here at your beck and call. So thou must make haste and proceed with thy second boon, lest I lose patience with your pedantic mortal pace and vent my wrath upon thy insignificant hide. Arise and waste my time no longer!”
Brian felt his body violently jerked upwards until he was once more swaying on his feet. He blinked up at the genie, who seemed to have grown about two feet taller in the last however-many-minutes this trip had been going on. Brian wasn’t used to looking up into Justin’s face. He found it a little disconcerting. Especially with the way this Justin was frowning down on him. He didn’t think he liked Scary Magic Justin much.
“Fuuuuuck!” Brian sighed. He was tired and not happy and still a little beat up from all the harem attack boys, but it looked like this nightmare wasn’t finished yet. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Thou art entitled to command of me two additional wishes, Master. What is your desire?”
Brian could already tell this Justin-Genie was kind of a vindictive asshole. No doubt he would try and mess with him again. It was all turning out just like in one of those fucking Arabian Nights tales. The ones with the tricky genie who tried to fuck up all the wishes by taking everything too literally. Well, Brian could deal with that. He would just make his second wish simple - nothing fancy or confusing - and ask for something that was impossible to mess up. Something straightforward and unambiguous.
“Okay. Okay. Keep your fucking pants on, Creskin,” Brian proceeded grudginly. “So, for my second wish, I’d like ten million dollars, cash.” Brian pointed to the floor of the big empty room, happily envisioning the stacks of greenbacks that would magically materialize in front of him . . . even if he was sure they’d all disappear when he woke up the next morning and this weird drug trip was over.
“Thy wish is my command, Master.” Scary Justin recited, giving another nod and blink combo.
But the towering piles of ten and twenty dollar bills Brian had imagined didn’t appear. Instead, there was a rumbling noise, and the big windows at the far end of the room burst open, allowing a huge thunder cloud to roll inside. The cloud was a dark, menacing blue-black color and there were flashes of lighting briefly illuminating its interior. Brian moaned, already worried about what was coming. He dropped down onto his knees atop his pile of cushions, thinking he might be able to at least take cover under the pillows if it started to rain or something.
And rain it did.
Within seconds, the cloud had oozed it’s way over till it was centered right above Brian’s head. There was more lightning and more thunder. But when the storm broke, it didn’t rain mere droplets of water. No, that would have been too easy. Scary Justin’s rain cloud wasn’t anything so mundane. It wasn’t a rain cloud at all, actually.
It was a money cloud.
While Brian cowered on his pile of cushions, the first objects began to drop from above; slowly at first, one or two at a time, but with a pace that gradually increased until there were dozens of small gold things dropping out of the cloud and landing all around him. Eventually one of these items hit Brian squarely on the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. He managed to catch the small piece of metal though, examining it with trepidation.
The round gold coin he held in the palm of his hand was quite pretty actually. It was bright and shiny. It had an engraving of a young native american woman carrying a baby. Brian had actually admired the design of the new quarter-sized one dollar coins in the past; they were compact, easy to carry and more durable than paper dollars. Generally, he was a fan of the drive to move towards dollar coins instead of paper bills. Of course, that had been before he’d made the stupid wish for ten MILLION of them to fall on his head out of a blue thunder cloud.
Brian held one of the cushions up over his head to try and protect himself from the pelting hail of gold coins. Damn, those coins were falling hard. It was almost like the fucking genie WANTED to bean him.
That was when Brian looked over at Jinn/Justin and saw the genie was now hovering atop the cloud, sitting cross-legged on the apex of the fluffy blueness, and laughing down at Brian where he huddled under his cushions. Fucking genies. They were always a little evil, weren’t they? No wonder all those fairy tales always ended so badly. But Brian hadn’t expected a Justin Genie to be quite so bad-tempered. Shouldn’t a Justin Genie be nice and accommodating and sweet like the original he was modeled on? When was this fucking acid trip going to end anyway?
While Brian was contemplating the unfairness of angry mythical beings, however, the situation around him was beginning to become dire. Brian had never before contemplated exactly how many dollars made up the number ten million. It was a lot. A hella lot, to be precise. And the rain of dollar coins was starting to get heavier as whole freshets of Sacagaweas poured down out of the blue cloud and started to fill the room around him.
At first Brian wasn’t all that worried. The harem room was big. Really big. But, apparently, it wasn’t ten million dollar coins big. Little by little the flood of coins got higher and higher. The piles grew to swallow his ankles. Then the deluge came up to his knees. Soon it was up to the middle of his thighs. And then the coins reached his hips. He tried to climb up on top of the piles of coins, but it was like wading through quicksand; he kept sinking down through the morass of money and the more he struggled the more mired he became. But it couldn’t go on forever, could it? How much was ten million dollars anyway?
When the tide of money reached the middle of his chest, Brian gave up. “Okay. You win. I get it. Uncle, already. Justin!”
“What is this ‘Uncle’ you call upon?” the Evil Justin Genie chortled from the safety of his cloudtop perch.
“It means that I give up! I fucking screwed up. I didn’t think this shit through. Just stop it already, okay?” By the time he’d finished speaking the torrent had reached his chin and Brian had tossed aside his protective pillow so he could use his hands to try and tread water through the heaps of money that were threatening to drown him. “I said I give up, Justin. Stop. Please. Justin! MAKE IT STOP!”
“As thou commands, Master,” the genie acquiesced with a nod and a blink, causing the inundation of money to instantly vanish. “Thou art lucky I was here, Master. Greed has been the death of many an unwise mortal.”
“Yeah . . . I can see that,” Brian replied sardonically. “Lucky me.”
“Enough dalliance,” the genie declared as he floated back down to the floor in front of Brian. “I grow weary of this drudgery. It is time I departed this plane of existence. Make haste with thy final boon so I may fulfill my obligations and be gone.”
“Hold your horses there, buddy. I think I need to think this shit through a little better. I want to do better on my last wish than the first two.”
“Time is a tedious mortal concept for which I have no use,” Scary Justin declared. “Thou must decide now or incur my displeasure.”
“Shit . . .” Brian cursed, his mind spinning through a thousand different possibilities and immediately dismissing each just as fast.
There had to be something he could wish for that wouldn’t backfire on him. Right? What did he need? What did he want more than anything else? He looked around him at the opulent harem room and thought about the flood of money he’d just barely escaped. Those were stupid wishes. Money was ephemeral; it would come and go and you could always lose it just as fast as you made it. Property, treasure, jewels, clothing . . . were all just THINGS. He didn’t really need more THINGS. And, if he were being honest, he didn’t really need more adoring sex partners either; Brian had never had trouble pulling tricks. Maybe what he needed was something more esoteric. Something intangible. Aspirational. Something money couldn’t get him. Something lasting . . .
“I’ve got it!” Brian announced, facing the Justin/Jinn, who was now grown to well over ten feet tall, his massive blue shoulders pressing against the rafters of the room as he glared down at the faltering human at his feet. “For my last wish I want to always be young and beautiful. I want Eternal Youth.”
“Ahhh! That is quite an intriguing wish, mortal. In all my eons as a Djinn no other has ever asked such a boon of me. It is a curious desire and one with many . . . compelling . . . permutations. Hmmm,” the genie got quiet as he thought for a minute, a gleam in his dark blue eyes that sort of scared Brian, to be honest, although it was too late to take back his wish by that point. “Yes! It is possible. I WILL grant you this boon, Master.”
Brian didn’t like the avid look the genie was now shooting at him as he raised his crossed arms again. Brian cringed, turning slightly sideways, as if hoping to provide a smaller target for whatever was coming at him this time. What the fuck had he done now? This might end up being really bad.
“Thy wish is my command, Master.” Justin Jinn gave a sharp nod and blinked his eyes one last time.
There was the expected billow of peppermint blue smoke and then everything around Brian went pitch black.
The next thing Brian knew, there was a repetitive *beep, beep, beep* noise going off in the background.
“Brian. Brian, please. Shut off the damn alarm!” an unaccented and thoroughly normal Justin-type voice pleaded.
Brian cracked open his eyes and raised up hesitatingly so he could look around himself. He wasn’t in the harem room any longer. It appeared his bedroom was back, thank fuck. And the boy lying next to him in the bed wasn’t dressed in poofy blue gauze pants or a velvet vest; he was buck naked and, thankfully, back to normal Justin size. He was also smiling at Brian with the usual twinkie grin that the regular Justin always wore when he looked at Brian.
Brian reached over to the nightstand and switched off the alarm that had been making the *beep, beep, beep* noise.
“That’s much better,” Justin burbled approvingly, snuggling up to Brian and wrapping his lithe body around the taller man’s side like a clingy shrimp. “Mmmmm. I don’t know how you manage to always stay so warm. It’s like sleeping with a hot water bottle. At least I’ll never be cold in the winter.”
Brian sighed. It looked like Scary Justin was gone - thank everything that was unholy. Now, THIS Justin, Brian could handle.
Brian gave the cuddly body next to him an affectionate squeeze - he would never in a million years admit to liking the cuddling, but over the years it had grown on him. On the whole, he rather enjoyed waking up to a happy, snuggly blond twink in his bed. It was one of the more pleasant things in life, he suspected. And really, who needed a harem when you had a Justin, right?
“Mmmm. Hungry . . .” The boy beside him rumbled happily, rubbing up against Brian’s hip so that his well-endowed package ground along Brian’s thigh. “Guess it’s time for breakfast, then,” Justin declared with a whimsical giggle.
The next thing Brian knew, the boy had squirmed down, under the covers, and started to give him one of his Justin Taylor Special blow jobs. It was glorious. It was the best possible way to wake up. It was life affirming in ways Brian couldn’t even begin to enumerate.
Yep, this was definitely better than a harem full of aggressive sex slaves and it didn’t cost him a dime.
“So, then I must have passed out or something because the next thing I knew I was waking up in my own bed. Justin was back to his normal size and was giving me my morning blow job,” Brian explained, to the laughter of the gang.
“That was some dream, alright, Brian,” Michael chuckled at the images his best friend had been regaling them with as they drank the evening away . . . just like they always did almost every night. “Only you would have a nightmare about an orgy.”
“Yeah, well, you should have known better, Brian. Everybody knows wishes from genies never end up going right,” Emmett chided him.
“That’s, like, the whole point of the story,” Ted elucidated. “It’s all part of the morality lesson. Don’t be greedy, be content with what you have, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”
“That’s what I tried to tell him, too,” Justin chimed in, aiming one of his trademark sunshine smiles at his partner. “You just can’t trust a genie. Even one as adorable as me.”
“Especially ones that are deceptively adorable. They’re the most dangerous of all,” Brian insisted, flicking the slice of lime from his Corona at the little blond pest. “And the worst part about blond genies is that you can’t trust them at all. I mean, look what happened to me; that genie absconded without giving me my last wish. Seriously? If you were going to torment me in my dreams all night, Justin, couldn’t I have at least stayed asleep long enough to see how eternal youth would have manifested itself. Even if that probably would have backfired too . . .”
The gang all laughed, giving Brian a hard time about missing out on getting ‘Eternal Youth’ and teasing him about how old and decrepit he was getting lately.
Amidst all the joking and ribbing though, one of the occupants of the next table - a tall red-bewigged drag queen dressed in the obligatory full-length, sequined ball gown - leaned over and commented, “Honey, trust Mysterious Marilyn on this one . . . You don’t need eternal youth when you’ve got a beautiful blond boy toy that’s a dozen years younger hanging on your arm.”
Of course that engendered more rounds of teasing and laughter and joking. Not that Brian really minded. He couldn't disagree with the mystic’s sentiment. Since Justin had come into his life, Brian had certainly laughed more than he ever had in his sorry existence. And that thing about waking up next to a snuggly warm partner . . . Yeah, that was definitely nice. If having an adoring, live-in twink was what it was like to be eternally young, Brian was definitely in favor of it.
Brian got to his feet, having had enough talk and feeling that it was time for some action, and towed Justin out of his seat as well. With a tilt of his head, Brian indicated he wanted some company in the men’s room. Justin’s responsive grin got so wide it stretched almost the entire breadth of his face. The boy even giggled as he started to trot off towards the back of the bar.
Brian was only a couple of meters behind him.
Brian pulled the stall door closed and Justin sank eagerly to his knees, offering up an incandescent smile.
“Thy wish is my command, Master,” the boy intoned in a strange foreign accent, his voice momentarily dropping several octaves, before his eternally youthful lips sucked Brian in and made him forget all about that crazy April Fool’s Dream.