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To: Fanforum Giotto/LJ alaschija
From: Tagsit
Title: The F**k Cure
Gift Request: Fic angst, hurt/comfort, sexy fun times, porn without plot Pairings: B/J
Characters: I like all, so pick whatever you like
Theme: maybe one of them is getting sick and the other one has to worry about him or take care of him Focus: B/J



Brian was disappointed to come home after a long day at work and find his bed occupied by a slightly smelly, groaning, lump of drippy-nosed blond boy. The entire area around the bed was strewn with used wads of tissue. There was a hodgepodge of various boxes and bottles of over-the-counter cold medicines on the bedside table, their contents spilling out all over the place. There was a damp washcloth lying in a heap on the floor, which he discovered when he stepped on it. And worst of all, there was an all pervasive odor of menthol swirling through the air, probably from one of those horrible lotions or ointments you rubbed on old people’s chests.


It was definitely NOT what the tired AdExec wanted to come home to.


Brian kicked the lump huddled under the covers with his toe. The lump merely groaned, sneezed and rolled over. That was not a good sign, but at least it was still alive.


“Hey, Sunshine. Time to rise and shine,” Brian tried cheerfulness but got only a rustling of the bed covers and a grunt, so he switched to a straight out command. “Get your ass out of there and clean this mess up. It’s a pig stye in here.”


“Go away and let me die in peace,” came the muted and miserable response from under the covers.


This seemed to call for drastic measures.


Brian reached down, grabbed hold of the duvet with one hand and pulled it back with a swish. The blond-headed lump thus revealed didn’t even move a muscle. Justin simply lay there, moaning, his eyes squeezed shut and a kleenex stuck to one nostril with a spot of wet mucus. The kid seemed to be wearing the same pair of sweatpants he’d been in for the past three days as well as a rumpled t-shirt and at least two grungey sweatshirts on top. Needless to say, he didn’t look like his usual cheerful, sunshiney self.


“Get up and go get a shower. You stink, Sunshine. And then you can clean up this pit of despair you’ve got going in here,” Brian ordered.


“Fuck off, Brian. I’m too busy dying to clean. You’ll have to wait till they cart my body away and then call the cleaning service,” Justin snarled as he groped around, trying to find the covers to pull back over himself without opening his eyes.


“Damn. And I thought that Emmett was the biggest Drama Queen in the family,” Brian commented, laughing at the overly dramatic young man.


“Go away, Brian. I’m too miserable to deal with you right now. And if you don’t leave me alone I’m going to cough in your face.”


Justin opened his eyes long enough to sit up, grapple the duvet away from Brian and then flip back down with the covers pulled to his stubbly chin.


“Fine. See if I ever try and help you again, Brat,” Brian complained, standing there and shaking his head at the pathetic problem.


“If you really want to help me, you could go to the pharmacy down the block and get me more cough drops; I’m all out,” the unhappy blond bed lump suggested, adding a wet, mucus-filled cough at the end of his request for extra emphasis.


“Fuck that,” Brian retorted. “That shit won’t do anything to actually get you well again, Twat.”


“Oh, really?” Justin peeked a skeptical eye over the top of the duvet at Brian. “And what, in your inestimable wisdom, Dr. Kinney, do you recommend instead? Huh?”


“Fucking. Of course.”


That got an actual laugh out of the sick boy, although the laughter was eventually eclipsed by another series of racking coughs. “Typical,” the boy commented when he could speak again. “But I’m pretty sure you can’t cure the common cold with fucking, Brian. The only legitimate way to get over a cold is bed rest and staying hydrated while you wait out the virus’ natural progression.”


“Fat lot you know, Brat,” Brian maintained as he again pulled the duvet off the bed and this time tossed it clear across the room so Justin couldn’t get to it again without actually getting his ass out of the bed. “Look at me; I’m NEVER sick. And why? Because I give my immune system a constant workout by fucking as many different guys as I can, exposing myself to any potential diseases so I can fight them off later, and I drink like a fish at the same time so the alcohol will kill off any bugs that do get through.”


Justin openly scoffed at that explanation, looking at Brian like he was a total imbecile.


“Listen to me, Twat. Are you listening?” Brian asked.


“Yes, Dr. Kinney. I’m listening.”


“If you want to wait out this shit, moaning and acting miserable for another week or so till the cold runs its course, fine. But, if you actually want to feel better NOW, then you’ll get your ass out of that bed and go take a shower, because nobody’s gonna feel good when they smell as bad as you do right now, Twat. And make sure the water’s extra hot so it steams all the gunk out of your sinuses. Then, when you’re clean enough that I can stand being within ten feet of you, I’ll fuck you so fast and furious and long that you sweat out all the toxins in your body by the time we’re done. After which, we’ll sleep, and by tomorrow morning you’ll be one hundred percent good to go again,” Brian proclaimed authoritatively.


And surprisingly enough, Justin seemed to be actually buying it. Or maybe he was just tired of laying around moaning. Or he was horny. But, whatever the reasoning, the boy rattled off another small cough, sniffled, wiped at his drippy nose one last time and then slowly crawled out of the bed before heading to the bathroom as directed.


While Justin was busy steaming away all the ick, Brian stripped the disgusting, snot-encrusted sheets and pillowcases off the bed and quickly remade it. He picked up as much of the detritus of tissues and other crap off the bed, nightstands and floor as possible, filling the waste basket almost to the top. Then he trotted out to the kitchen, returning with the bottle of Beam and a large crystal tumbler. Finally, he got out the fancy Pulse Personal Lubricant Warming Dispenser that Ted had got him as a Christmas present the prior year. Brian had never bothered with it before, because who wanted to mess around with heated lube when you were already busy, right? But this seemed like the right occasion for it. Once it was set up on the nightstand, Brian slipped in the canister of Grizzly Fire lube he’d been saving up as well. That should warm the boy up and get him sweating, he thought, well pleased with himself and his preparations.



By the time the squeaky-clean and well-steamed boy came padding out of the bathroom, Brian was all set. Justin already looked a hundred percent better, just from the shower. Why did people ever doubt him, Brian wondered.


“That’s my little princess,” Brian teased as Justin ficked his towel at him with the first hint of playfulness he’d shown in days.


“Here,” Brian handed him the tumbler, filled to the brim with straight Bourbon Whiskey. “Drink it. All,” he ordered.


When Justin looked like he was going to argue about this part of the plan, probably to voice some PSA about how alcohol was bad for people with colds, Brian expedited matters by lifting the glass to the boy’s lips himself and tipping it up so that Justin had to either swallow or have the whole glass pour down his chest. He swallowed, of course, because Brian’s Sunshine had always swallowed like a good boy. Then, when he’d chugged the last ounce, Brian finally set the glass aside, kissing away the one remaining droplet left on Justin’s crushed-coral pink lips.


“Okay. On the bed, ass in the air, and prepare to get sweaty all over again.”


Justin complied, much less reluctant now than he’d seemed when Brian first proposed this experiment. Then again, the boy had always been game for pretty much anything that had to do with Brian’s dick. Even a deadly virus couldn’t completely kill that basic instinct.


Brian pulled off his own clothing and kneeled behind the boy’s raised hind quarters, starting off with a resounding swack to one perfect ivory cheek, because, well, it was there and all. Justin grunted out a happy little response - he’d always been a sucker for a spanking right from day one. But Brian would have to put that particular pleasure on the back burner for now. He had a mission to accomplish so spankings would have to wait. What he needed now was hot, furious, athletic, sweaty sex, in all it’s immune-enhancing permutations.


Waving a hand under the lube dispenser, Brian filled his palm with Grizzly Fire and commenced with the pre-fucking prep work. Justin’s initial complacency quickly disappeared as soon as the moisture activated lube started to heat up. Before he’d gotten the second finger inside the boy’s ass, the kid was writhing and moaning with pleasure and begging for more.


“Now. Hurry. Hurry, Brian.”


And normally Brian would have drawn this part out, enjoying all the pleading, making the boy beg for a hella lot longer, but again, he’d have to put that potential pleasure aside in the interest of his primary objective, which was making the kid sweat.


So, as soon as the boy was stretched to the bare minimum to make the rest of his plans feasible, Brian was already sheathing himself and then diving in. Even through the latex of the condom, the Grizzly lube was invigorating. Damn, that shit was hot. It felt amazing. No wonder Justin was bucking his hips, writhing and howling like a banshee. He certainly was sweating though. And so was Brian by that point.


This fuck was definitely NOT going to last long.


With Justin squirming and pushing himself back onto Brian’s dick in time with Brian’s every thrust, and the heated lube making his dick feel like it was on fire, things were ramping up pretty fucking quickly. The fire from his nether regions was rapidly building up, creeping along his nerve endings, climbing up his spine and setting every centimeter of his skin along the way to tingling. Even his brain seemed to be too overheated to work correctly; which probably explained why Brian heard himself saying all sorts of lesbianic shit that he wasn’t going to think about just then. Luckily, the boy seemed to be just as overheated, just as mindlessly turned on, just as prone, right then, to spouting garbage sentiments about love and such.


And then the boy reared up, roaring out his lust with a wordless exclamation of pleasure as his entire body began to tremble and his ass clamped down on Brian’s dick. Which was all it took to drive the older man over the edge as well. With one last push, he sank into the boy’s heat all the way up to his balls, then held on tightly to the slender, jerking hips as the fire of their joining seemed to increase even more, and the smoldering warmth from Brian’s cock erupted, sending shoots of white hot flames throughout his body.


When it was over, and the fire was extinguished by the cool, blue rush of endorphins, Brian collapsed atop the sweaty, warm back of the boy. They were both panting like they’d just run a marathon. Perspiration was dripping off the youth’s skin and wherever their bodies touched the moisture pooled in little patches of extra wetness. But, it was important to note, the kid was no longer coughing or sniffling.


*Mmmmm*


The boy moaned happily as Brian shifted his hips, causing little tremors of pleasure to echo through them both. Unfortunately the happy noises quickly turned to a groan as Brian rolled off his happy blond boy and pulled out in the process. Before the patient could become too disconsolate, though, Brian stripped off the full condom, tore open a new one and quickly rolled it down his still half-hard dick. Then Brian grabbed hold of the boy’s ankles, twisted the body still pliant from repletion until Justin had flipped over onto his back, propped the younger man’s calves on his shoulders and half a heartbeat later he was already pressing back inside.


“No time to rest, Twat. We’ve got to keep going. Got to get all those toxins out of you. So I’m going to keep fucking you until you’ve got no bodily fluids left. Hang onto your ass, cause here we go!”



It was late the next morning before the two men finally began to stir. Brian had kept his boy busy until almost dawn. They’d fucked so many times he’d actually lost count. The bottle of Grizzly Fire lube was more than half empty by the time they’d finished. The bottle of Beam had seen similar depredations. The last couple of times, Justin’s orgasms had been almost dry, so he knew he’d accomplished his primary goal of sweating out all the boy’s toxic fluids.


Justin had basically passed out after their last round. Brian noted happily that he hadn’t heard any coughing or sneezing from the far side of the bed since then. And still people gave him shit for his unconventional approaches? Well, this would show them, right?


*Mmmmm* “Morning, Brian,” the boy mumbled, rolling over so he could curl himself along Brian’s side.


Brian let the kid have his cuddle, refraining from calling him out on it this once, since the kid WAS still recovering from being sick and all.


After about ten minutes of this, though, Brian had had enough and was thinking about getting up and getting on with his day. The kid seemed cured, so his work here was done. Besides, Brian would need a day or two for his sore dick to recover before he could effect any further ‘cures’. He didn’t regret it though. Brian was just THAT altruistic, you know. Most people didn’t see it, but in his heart he was a true humanitarian. Ridding the world of the common cold one fuckee at a time. You could even say it was his calling.


So, feeling pleased with himself, Brian swatted the blond ass once for good measure and started to slide his arm out from under the boy’s shoulders.


“I gotta say, Brian, your Fuck Cure worked like a gem,” Justin intoned with a long, contented stretch and a yawn. “I feel so much better. My throat doesn’t hurt at all and my sinuses are clearer than they’ve been all week. Of course, my ass is now so sore that I don’t think I’ll be able to sit down for the next couple days, but all in all, I think I’ll take the sore ass over the sore throat any day.”


Brian was just about to open his mouth and voice a well deserved ‘Told You So’ when the words were strangled by an onslaught of wet, mucus-filled coughing.


“Uh oh.” Justin looked down on his man with a smile. “It looks like the doctor has become a patient in his own right. Poor baby.”


Brian would have spoken up and denied it, indignant and unwilling to admit that HE, of all people, might be subject to something as mundane as a mere cold, but just then he was hit by an uncontrollable bout of sneezing. Fucking A! How could he be sick? It was inconceivable. It was unacceptable. It was just . . .


*Achooooooo!*


“Looks like we’ll have to apply the Fuck Cure to you now too, Dr. Kinney,” Justin stated looking down on Brian as the older man wiped his snotty nose with a corner of the sheet.


“Fuck off, Twat. I’m fine. I don’t need . . .”


*Achooooooo!*


“Yeah, you were saying?” Justin was now laughing as he stood there gloating. Then he turned to the bottle of beam waiting nearby, poured out a large helping and held the glass out to Brian. “Drink up, Big Guy, and then roll over. Time to let Dr. Taylor get to work.”


Brian looked at his blond contemplatively for a good long minute. The kid was standing there, looking commanding despite the fact that he was buck naked, as he hovered there with a smirk worthy of a Kinney-Acolyte. Well, Brian had taught the boy everything he knew. And Brian already knew that Justin wasn’t going to let him get out of this. Plus, Brian really didn’t want to be sick, so . . .


Fuck it all.


The Fuck Cure it was!


Brian took the glass of whiskey, downed it and then rolled over, offering up his ass with reluctant grace, ready to take his medicine like a man.

 

Chapter End Notes:

1/8/18 - Happy Holidays & may your new year be healthy . . . or I'll have to send Dr. Kinney to see you! LOL. TAG

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