Justin ended up with a cast from his knuckles to his elbow. He was forbidden to drive or put pressure on the hand.

“I offer to be your designated driver,” Brian told him, amused, as they drove away from the hospital.

“At least they left my fingers free. I can still work.”

“And they gave you Vicodin. You lucky fucker.”

Justin beamed. “I’m still expecting you to keep your promise. This will wear off in a few hours.”

“Let me drive you home first.”

“I still want to go to Babylon.” Justin pouted. “I wanna shake mah booty.”

“Christ. I’d forgotten how funny you are when you’re high.”

They parked close to Babylon and skipped the line. Tom shook Brian’s hand, and even greeted Justin by name. Justin was amazed the bouncer remembered him.

They stopped at the bar, where Billy started babbling apologies, until Brian waved a hand to cut him off.

“Water for this one,” Brian said authoritatively, pointing to Justin.

“Hey! Not fair,” Justin protested.

“Drugs and alcohol don’t mix, Sunshine.” He patted Justin's cheek. “I’m off to talk to Evan, then I’ll be back. Don’t get in trouble.”

“If I ask you to pour an ounce of Jack in some soda…”

“No,” Billy replied. He placed a bottle of water in front of Justin.

Justin sulked, sipping from his water, until Emmett joined him with a cocktail.

“Ohhh! Look at you, Baby,” Emmett cried out. “Does it hurt? What are you doing here?”

“I’m high as a kite so what other place to be?” Justin shrugged. “Want to sign my cast?”

Emmett eyed him curiously. “I don’t have a pen.”

“We can find one in Brian's office.” Justin pulled Emmett after him, up the stairs and into Brian's office.

They stopped in the doorway, gawking at Evan being sucked by some twink.

“On second thought, Billy might have one too,” Justin said loudly, closing the door. He giggled madly.

“What the hell did they give you?”

“Vicodin – two pills, because the doctor said I’m cute.”

“Did you watch Dr. House?”

“I’m not gonna become an addict from two lousy pills. Don’t kill my buzz, Em.”

They returned to the bar, and Justin leaned over the counter, smiling leerily at Billy.

“I’m not giving you alcohol!”

“I just want a pen,” Justin explained. “Pleeeease!”

Billy gave him a pen, shaking his head.

“Here you go. Don’t take up too much space. I want everyone to write on it,” Justin said, handing Emmett the hot pink pen. “I have to wear this for a couple weeks or so.”

“Poor baby.” Emmett painted some hearts and wrote the usual wishing well.

“Now let’s dance! Thanks, Billy!” Justin threw the pen back at Billy, hitting him in the shoulder, but he didn’t stay to check if he had hurt the man.

Justin dragged Emmett by the hand into the masses of hot, dancing men.

That was where Brian found him an hour later. Justin was too high to care who looked and how he danced, because he was in some weird sync with Emmett, waving their hands in the air and shaking their asses. They were dancing ass to ass, making a small circle around them, with only few brave ones who dared to touch either of them.

“I think that’s enough,” Brian demanded, separating them.

“Brian!” Justin threw his arms around Brian's neck, nearly giving Brian an uppercut with his cast. “Ooops!”

“Watch the face, asshole!” Brian flinched. “I’m taking you home.”

“B-but…”

Brian steered him to the door with his hands firmly clasped on Justin's shoulders.

“Britin?” Justin asked, hopefully.

“If you want, we can go there, but according to Joe I have to go out in the world with Evan, so the vultures would see us together. So we settled on breakfast at some stupid coffee shop.”

“Then take me to Daphne's,” Justin agreed.

In the car, Justin turned to face Brian. “Did you know that Evan was getting a blowie in your office?”

“Blowie,” Brian repeated incredulously. “You’re not allowed anywhere near Vicodin ever again.”

“So, did you know?” Justin insisted.

“I figured he was busy in there from the tie hanging on the door handle. I’ve been busy tracking my best drug dealer.”

“I didn’t notice the tie.”

“You also didn’t notice half of Babylon ready to fuck you by the way you were dancing with Honeycutt.”

“They did?” Justin asked, shocked.

“It shouldn’t be news to you.” Brian pressed his tongue inside his cheek. His eyes found the cast. “You’re so going to regret this in the morning.”

“Would you draw something too?”

“No!”

“Please? I’ll give you anything.”

“A blowie?” Brian laughed, parked in front of Daphne's apartment building.

Justin made to lean over the gearbox to unzip Brian's jeans.

“Upstairs, maybe.”

“If Daphne gives you shit, I’ll protect you,” Justin promised as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.

“So considerate of you.” Brian pulled the keys from Justin's jacket, unlocking the door.

They found Daphne on the couch, watching a movie. She gasped, when she noticed them.

“Justin! What happened to you?” She rushed to his side, touching his cast.

“I fell. Brian saved me.” He beamed, giving Brian a star-eyed look. He was so damn beautiful. “He’s my hero!”

“They gave him Vicodin,” Brian explained. “I’ll put him to bed.”

“Wait, wait!” Justin skipped to the kitchen, returning with a black marker. He handed it to Daphne, grinning.

“Draw something he’ll regret in the morning,” Brian encouraged her.

“I’ll leave the dick to you.” She winked. She wrote BFF = Butt Fuck Feast

Brian doubled over in laughter. “He’s gonna wonder if he had a gangbang.”

Daphne shrugged. “Serves him right for giving me free reign at writing stuff on his cast. Seriously, he’s okay?”

“He will be.”

“Thanks, Daph!” Justin plucked the pen from her hand, pulling Brian after him into his room.

Brian undressed down to his boxers, then he helped Justin out of his clothes. They got under the blanket, and despite Brian's futile wishes to sleep, Justin got frisky. He squirmed until he was on top of Brian. His ass ground against Brian's hardening dick.

Brian prepped Justin, covering his dick, before allowing Justin to have fun. He was asleep a second after he came, leaving Brian to clean him. Brian hugged Justin tightly, closing his eyes.

#

In the morning, Brian woke up to find Justin sprawled on his back, snoring loudly. He seized the opportunity to draw a nice, veiny dick on the length of the cast. For the ones who had seen him naked, they would know that was pretty similar to his cock.

Off to my husband Sunday duties. Later.

Brian left the note and several small pills on the nightstand. He trusted Justin to take them responsibly.

Brian found Daphne in the kitchen, making coffee.

“Morning,” she greeted him.

“Good morning.”

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Nah. I’m meeting Evan for coffee. We have to be seen in public together, doing couple-y stuff so they’ll see we’re not lying.”

“Must be tough.” She blew in her cup, taking a careful sip.

“You’ve no idea.”

“Justin told me that he’s moving in the house you bought for him,” she said softly.

Brian fished out his smokes, lighting one up. “Yeah. He’ll delay that I hope, what with his hand.”

“What the hell happened, anyway?”

“He slipped on the wet tile at Michael’s.”

“While you were fucking in the bathroom?”

Brian touched his heart theatrically. “It started raining during dinner, and they were carrying stuff inside. Evan and Ted fell first, then the twat slipped on that puddle, but he broke his fall with his wrist.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, clucking her tongue at Justin’s misfortune. “I’ll take care of him.”

“I left him a little something on the nightstand. Make sure he doesn’t overindulge.” Brian inhaled from his cigarette, blowing out smoke rings.

“I never understood how you do that.”

“I’ve got a skilled tongue,” Brian joked.

Arms wrapped around Brian's middle. “Ain’t that the truth?” Justin whispered into his ear, nipping at it.

“Did you take something?” Brian turned into Justin's embrace.

“Not yet.” Justin stepped away, pouring coffee in a mug. “Anyway, why is there an almost perfect replica of your dick on my cast?”

“You felt like drawing it there last night,” Brian told him, as seriously as possible.

“I said almost perfect. If I’d drawn it, it would have been a lot more realistic.”

“Ouch. The burn.” Daphne laughed.

“Don’t get me started on you! You wrote this shit, didn’t you? I’ll have to spend hours trying my skills at covering that atrocity with something else.” Justin pointed to the BFF part.

Daphne made a show to inspect the cast and gasp in shock. “Did you have a gangbang?”

“Daphne, I know that was you. I might have been high last night, but I do remember what happened.”

“Good thing you’re versatile and ambidextrous.” Brian joked, winking at him.

“Shouldn’t you be having coffee with your hubby?” Justin sneered.

“It’s time for little boys to take one happy pill,” Brian said, amused.

“Fuck off.” Justin glowered at his cast. “Think they’ll change it if I ask nicely?” He turned to Daphne.

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you coming back?” Justin asked Brian.

“Dunno. Miss me already?”

“I want Crayola. All the colors out there.”

“I thought you liked acrylic paint.” Brian frowned.

“It’s for my cast, you genius. I have to cover up your work of art with actual fucking art. I can’t go out in public with a dick on my arm and the words this cunt wrote on the side.” Justin pointed to Daphne, who sniffed, as if offended.

“We’ll see.” Brian pecked Daphne’s cheek, then kissed Justin lingeringly, before letting himself out.

#

Brian walked to the coffee shop since it was close. He ordered for both him and Evan, scoring a window table.

“Is this seat taken?” Evan pointed to the seat across from Brian. “Wait, I can do better. What’s a hot guy like you doing all alone here?”

“Waiting for my crazy husband,” Brian muttered, pushing Evan’s Americano toward him.

“And you know my drink.”

“Would you cut it out?”

“I don’t see why you’re so cranky, when you’re the one who abandoned me yesterday.” Evan took the lid off his cup, blowing into the coffee.

“Didn’t the boys tell you? Justin broke his wrist. I took him to the hospital,” Brian said, curious as of why no one had told Evan what had happened.

“Oh, they described in vivid detail how you rushed to his aid when he’d fallen, unlike you did with me.”

“You were perfectly fine,” Brian retorted.

“My ass hurts like hell.”

“Serves you right. Now, that this is out of the way, let’s quit the fucking happy act.”

 Justin ended up with a cast from his knuckles to his elbow. He was forbidden to drive or put pressure on the hand.

“I offer to be your designated driver,” Brian told him, amused, as they drove away from the hospital.

“At least they left my fingers free. I can still work.”

“And they gave you Vicodin. You lucky fucker.”

Justin beamed. “I’m still expecting you to keep your promise. This will wear off in a few hours.”

“Let me drive you home first.”

“I still want to go to Babylon.” Justin pouted. “I wanna shake mah booty.”

“Christ. I’d forgotten how funny you are when you’re high.”

They parked close to Babylon and skipped the line. Tom shook Brian’s hand, and even greeted Justin by name. Justin was amazed the bouncer remembered him.

They stopped at the bar, where Billy started babbling apologies, until Brian waved a hand to cut him off.

“Water for this one,” Brian said authoritatively, pointing to Justin.

“Hey! Not fair,” Justin protested.

“Drugs and alcohol don’t mix, Sunshine.” He patted Justin's cheek. “I’m off to talk to Evan, then I’ll be back. Don’t get in trouble.”

“If I ask you to pour an ounce of Jack in some soda…”

“No,” Billy replied. He placed a bottle of water in front of Justin.

Justin sulked, sipping from his water, until Emmett joined him with a cocktail.

“Ohhh! Look at you, Baby,” Emmett cried out. “Does it hurt? What are you doing here?”

“I’m high as a kite so what other place to be?” Justin shrugged. “Want to sign my cast?”

Emmett eyed him curiously. “I don’t have a pen.”

“We can find one in Brian's office.” Justin pulled Emmett after him, up the stairs and into Brian's office.

They stopped in the doorway, gawking at Evan being sucked by some twink.

“On second thought, Billy might have one too,” Justin said loudly, closing the door. He giggled madly.

“What the hell did they give you?”

“Vicodin – two pills, because the doctor said I’m cute.”

“Did you watch Dr. House?”

“I’m not gonna become an addict from two lousy pills. Don’t kill my buzz, Em.”

They returned to the bar, and Justin leaned over the counter, smiling leerily at Billy.

“I’m not giving you alcohol!”

“I just want a pen,” Justin explained. “Pleeeease!”

Billy gave him a pen, shaking his head.

“Here you go. Don’t take up too much space. I want everyone to write on it,” Justin said, handing Emmett the hot pink pen. “I have to wear this for a couple weeks or so.”

“Poor baby.” Emmett painted some hearts and wrote the usual wishing well.

“Now let’s dance! Thanks, Billy!” Justin threw the pen back at Billy, hitting him in the shoulder, but he didn’t stay to check if he had hurt the man.

Justin dragged Emmett by the hand into the masses of hot, dancing men.

That was where Brian found him an hour later. Justin was too high to care who looked and how he danced, because he was in some weird sync with Emmett, waving their hands in the air and shaking their asses. They were dancing ass to ass, making a small circle around them, with only few brave ones who dared to touch either of them.

“I think that’s enough,” Brian demanded, separating them.

“Brian!” Justin threw his arms around Brian's neck, nearly giving Brian an uppercut with his cast. “Ooops!”

“Watch the face, asshole!” Brian flinched. “I’m taking you home.”

“B-but…”

Brian steered him to the door with his hands firmly clasped on Justin's shoulders.

“Britin?” Justin asked, hopefully.

“If you want, we can go there, but according to Joe I have to go out in the world with Evan, so the vultures would see us together. So we settled on breakfast at some stupid coffee shop.”

“Then take me to Daphne's,” Justin agreed.

In the car, Justin turned to face Brian. “Did you know that Evan was getting a blowie in your office?”

“Blowie,” Brian repeated incredulously. “You’re not allowed anywhere near Vicodin ever again.”

“So, did you know?” Justin insisted.

“I figured he was busy in there from the tie hanging on the door handle. I’ve been busy tracking my best drug dealer.”

“I didn’t notice the tie.”

“You also didn’t notice half of Babylon ready to fuck you by the way you were dancing with Honeycutt.”

“They did?” Justin asked, shocked.

“It shouldn’t be news to you.” Brian pressed his tongue inside his cheek. His eyes found the cast. “You’re so going to regret this in the morning.”

“Would you draw something too?”

“No!”

“Please? I’ll give you anything.”

“A blowie?” Brian laughed, parked in front of Daphne's apartment building.

Justin made to lean over the gearbox to unzip Brian's jeans.

“Upstairs, maybe.”

“If Daphne gives you shit, I’ll protect you,” Justin promised as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.

“So considerate of you.” Brian pulled the keys from Justin's jacket, unlocking the door.

They found Daphne on the couch, watching a movie. She gasped, when she noticed them.

“Justin! What happened to you?” She rushed to his side, touching his cast.

“I fell. Brian saved me.” He beamed, giving Brian a star-eyed look. He was so damn beautiful. “He’s my hero!”

“They gave him Vicodin,” Brian explained. “I’ll put him to bed.”

“Wait, wait!” Justin skipped to the kitchen, returning with a black marker. He handed it to Daphne, grinning.

“Draw something he’ll regret in the morning,” Brian encouraged her.

“I’ll leave the dick to you.” She winked. She wrote BFF = Butt Fuck Feast

Brian doubled over in laughter. “He’s gonna wonder if he had a gangbang.”

Daphne shrugged. “Serves him right for giving me free reign at writing stuff on his cast. Seriously, he’s okay?”

“He will be.”

“Thanks, Daph!” Justin plucked the pen from her hand, pulling Brian after him into his room.

Brian undressed down to his boxers, then he helped Justin out of his clothes. They got under the blanket, and despite Brian's futile wishes to sleep, Justin got frisky. He squirmed until he was on top of Brian. His ass ground against Brian's hardening dick.

Brian prepped Justin, covering his dick, before allowing Justin to have fun. He was asleep a second after he came, leaving Brian to clean him. Brian hugged Justin tightly, closing his eyes.

#

In the morning, Brian woke up to find Justin sprawled on his back, snoring loudly. He seized the opportunity to draw a nice, veiny dick on the length of the cast. For the ones who had seen him naked, they would know that was pretty similar to his cock.

Off to my husband Sunday duties. Later.

Brian left the note and several small pills on the nightstand. He trusted Justin to take them responsibly.

Brian found Daphne in the kitchen, making coffee.

“Morning,” she greeted him.

“Good morning.”

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Nah. I’m meeting Evan for coffee. We have to be seen in public together, doing couple-y stuff so they’ll see we’re not lying.”

“Must be tough.” She blew in her cup, taking a careful sip.

“You’ve no idea.”

“Justin told me that he’s moving in the house you bought for him,” she said softly.

Brian fished out his smokes, lighting one up. “Yeah. He’ll delay that I hope, what with his hand.”

“What the hell happened, anyway?”

“He slipped on the wet tile at Michael’s.”

“While you were fucking in the bathroom?”

Brian touched his heart theatrically. “It started raining during dinner, and they were carrying stuff inside. Evan and Ted fell first, then the twat slipped on that puddle, but he broke his fall with his wrist.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, clucking her tongue at Justin’s misfortune. “I’ll take care of him.”

“I left him a little something on the nightstand. Make sure he doesn’t overindulge.” Brian inhaled from his cigarette, blowing out smoke rings.

“I never understood how you do that.”

“I’ve got a skilled tongue,” Brian joked.

Arms wrapped around Brian's middle. “Ain’t that the truth?” Justin whispered into his ear, nipping at it.

“Did you take something?” Brian turned into Justin's embrace.

“Not yet.” Justin stepped away, pouring coffee in a mug. “Anyway, why is there an almost perfect replica of your dick on my cast?”

“You felt like drawing it there last night,” Brian told him, as seriously as possible.

“I said almost perfect. If I’d drawn it, it would have been a lot more realistic.”

“Ouch. The burn.” Daphne laughed.

“Don’t get me started on you! You wrote this shit, didn’t you? I’ll have to spend hours trying my skills at covering that atrocity with something else.” Justin pointed to the BFF part.

Daphne made a show to inspect the cast and gasp in shock. “Did you have a gangbang?”

“Daphne, I know that was you. I might have been high last night, but I do remember what happened.”

“Good thing you’re versatile and ambidextrous.” Brian joked, winking at him.

“Shouldn’t you be having coffee with your hubby?” Justin sneered.

“It’s time for little boys to take one happy pill,” Brian said, amused.

“Fuck off.” Justin glowered at his cast. “Think they’ll change it if I ask nicely?” He turned to Daphne.

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you coming back?” Justin asked Brian.

“Dunno. Miss me already?”

“I want Crayola. All the colors out there.”

“I thought you liked acrylic paint.” Brian frowned.

“It’s for my cast, you genius. I have to cover up your work of art with actual fucking art. I can’t go out in public with a dick on my arm and the words this cunt wrote on the side.” Justin pointed to Daphne, who sniffed, as if offended.

“We’ll see.” Brian pecked Daphne’s cheek, then kissed Justin lingeringly, before letting himself out.

#

Brian walked to the coffee shop since it was close. He ordered for both him and Evan, scoring a window table.

“Is this seat taken?” Evan pointed to the seat across from Brian. “Wait, I can do better. What’s a hot guy like you doing all alone here?”

“Waiting for my crazy husband,” Brian muttered, pushing Evan’s Americano toward him.

“And you know my drink.”

“Would you cut it out?”

“I don’t see why you’re so cranky, when you’re the one who abandoned me yesterday.” Evan took the lid off his cup, blowing into the coffee.

“Didn’t the boys tell you? Justin broke his wrist. I took him to the hospital,” Brian said, curious as of why no one had told Evan what had happened.

“Oh, they described in vivid detail how you rushed to his aid when he’d fallen, unlike you did with me.”

“You were perfectly fine,” Brian retorted.

“My ass hurts like hell.”

“Serves you right. Now, that this is out of the way, let’s quit the fucking happy act.”