Chapter 3 - Random Tropical Paradise.

Brian’s eyes began to flutter open. It took him a minute to figure out what had awakened him, but the giggling coming from the lump crawling around under the covers of the bed eventually explained things. The giggling was followed by a series of nibbling kisses that crept up Brian’s leg, starting at around his calf, tickling up his thigh, and then hovering somewhere over his left hip. That was followed by another spate of giggles - a liquid, uninhibited, and utterly joyful noise that did more to rouse Brian’s interest than the ticklish kissing - before the lips doing all that kissing and giggling moved over to meet Brian’s suddenly interested dick. The giggling suddenly stopped right when his cock was enveloped in a wet and welcoming warmth. 

“Ahhhhhh!” Brian sighed happily.

Brian had to say, based on the advanced techniques the bed lump was employing, his boy certainly was getting good at all sorts of boyfriend-related ‘jobs’. Brian silently congratulated himself on his training regimen. Or maybe Justin was simply a natural; with lips like those, it was a given he’d be able to master the fundamentals of a blow job without any real difficulty, right? 

All Brian could say, though, was a garbled, “Gahhhhh!” as the talented little tyro quickly sucked and licked him past the point of no return.

When a blond head turtled its way up from under the duvet a second later, wearing nothing but an incandescent ear-to-ear smile, Brian couldn’t resist pulling the nubile warm body up so he could kiss the living shit out of the smile’s owner. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Brian said, and then began to devour those happy lips with kisses of his own.

When he finally let his boy up for a breath, Justin was still smiling, but now his lips were an even more pronounced cherry-red and the sight made Brian’s cock perk up all over again. 

“Good morning, my Brian,” Justin burbled with happy innocence. 

“You do know that you’re too fucking adorable for words, right?” Brian admitted before he realized he’d lost control of his sentimentality and probably blown his ‘Stud Quotient’ for the entire year. 

Justin merely giggled again in response, his blue eyes sparkling with so much love and devotion that Brian felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck, Sunshine. You know I’m completely unable to resist when you look at me like that. Shit! I’m turning into a fucking lesbian as I speak. Is my dick even still there?” Brian’s left hand snaked down under the covers to make sure the appendage in question was actually still attached, even as his other arm squeezed the boy who had engendered all those ridiculously sappy feelings closer to his side. 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s still there,” Justin was quick to reassure him, adding in yet another giggle and making Brian’s dick twitch enough that he knew the assertion had to be true. “At least it was a minute ago, and I promise I didn’t eat it, even though I am kinda hungry for breakfast.”

“You mean that Brian Smoothie you just consumed wasn’t enough to satisfy you, Brat?” Brian teased.

“What’s a ‘smoothie’?” Justin asked, his brow crinkling up with confusion. “You don’t mean your stones, do you? Because they are really smooth after we went to your groomer person last week. I’d never had my private bits waxed before, and it was sorta painful, but you were right that it feels so nice to be all clean and soft and smooth down there. You know, I’d never even imagined people did that kind of thing before. I don’t think my mother would have approved . . .” 

“Remember . . . we agreed not to worry about what your mother would have thought?” Brian counselled with a chuckle over the kid’s irrelevant concerns. 

“Right. Because my mother didn’t know . . . *shit*” Justin replied, whispering the final word as if his deceased mother might hear him cursing.

“Exactly!” Brian readily agreed with the boy, adding in a kiss to those bee-stung lips to show his overwhelming approval. “But that’s not what I meant by a ‘Smoothie’,” Brian laughed. “I meant that you should be less hungry after that high protein snack you just had from the blow job. That should have at least taken the edge off the bottomless pit you call a stomach.”

“Oh . . . That.” Justin beamed at him with a smile that was so sweet and happy - and a little bit embarrassed - that it literally warmed Brian from the inside. “Well, yeah . . . That WAS pretty yummy. But I think I’m still hungry. You know that your cream isn’t all that filling right? Because I can eat a LOT more than what your willy shoots out in one go. You know that, right?”

Brian laughed out loud because the kid was so obviously concerned about whether or not he knew how filling his jizz was. “Damn it, Sunshine. You’re so fucking sweet I want to eat YOU up.”

Justin giggled again, so Brian was left with no alternative but to bite him on his imminently biteable neck, which just raised more giggles, and from there the whole scene devolved into untold debauchery for about the next hour or so, until they were both finally sated and Justin was too tired to tempt Brian with more giggles.

“Damn it. Look what you did,” Brian growled, pretending to be angry as he pointed to the clock. “Now we’re late to work again, Sunshine.”

Justin wrinkled up his nose and shrugged. “I can’t help the fact that your willy does those *THINGS* all the time, Brian. It’s, like, a force of nature; you can’t stop it when it wants to do what it wants to do.”

Brian was swept away by yet another wave of adorableness, damn the boy. He was way too distracting. Didn’t he know that it was unnatural for anyone to be that fucking tempting? 

Just then Brian’s phone pinged, reminding him that he couldn’t stay in bed all day, no matter how tempting his blond was. He grabbed the device off the nightstand and grumbled at the inevitable message from Cynthia letting him know he had a new appointment on his schedule for that afternoon. It was past time to get moving if he hoped to try and stay ahead of all the business that seemed to be pouring in these days. Not that he was complaining about that circumstance, though. The money was also starting to flow in and that was making Brian a very happy guy. At this rate, he’d be able to pay back the money they’d taken out of Justin‘s trust to keep the business afloat sooner than expected. Hopefully, within the next 90 days.

“Come on, you,” Brian announced with a smack to the distracting blond’s rear, earning him a little welp. “I’ve got another new client meeting this afternoon to prep for and you’ve got shit to draw.”

That got the boy grinning even more brightly than before - if that were possible - as Justin began thinking through all the fun projects he had waiting for him at the office. In all the years he’d been virtually held hostage by his mother, he’d never even imagined a life where he got to draw and paint and color as a means of employment. It was almost too fun to be considered work. And the fact that his efforts helped out Brian’s company made him enjoy it even more. Everything had turned out so perfect, he felt like he was living in a dream.

To test that it was real, Justin reached down, pinched his thigh, and gave the flesh a sharp twist. “Ow!” he yelped in response.

“What?” Brian asked with concern.

“Just making sure that I was really awake and that all this happy wasn’t only in my imagination,” Justin explained with a slightly embarrassed grin.

Brian tilted his head to the side, thought about it for half a second, and then pinched his own thigh as well. “Ouch!” he echoed his blond’s earlier sentiment. “Nope. Looks like we’re both awake and not dreaming. I guess we’ll just have to accept the fact that happy is our new normal.”

“I like you happy, Brian. You’re getting really good at it too.” A rumble from Justin’s stomach interrupted all the discussion about being happy right about then. “But, can we stop with the happy for long enough to have breakfast now, cuz I’m really hungry, even after playing with your smoothies.”

“Yes, you bottomless pit, you can go have breakfast now. But hurry. We’re leaving for work in twenty minutes whether or not your stomach agrees,” Brian warned, heading towards the coffee maker for his own morning pick-me-up.

It actually took them more than thirty minutes to get out of the house, on account of yet another irresistible encounter in the shower, not that Brian was objecting. They eventually made it to work just after 9:30. Justin gave Brian one last kiss as the elevator doors split open before they went their separate ways. Kinnetik was still using the temporary office suite facilities that they’d been in since before Brian and Justin‘s trip, but hopefully, if all went well, they’d be moving into a real office within the next month. In the meantime, though, they at least had a space in which to work, meet with clients, and receive mail. However, considering how much new business was flooding in, it was clear they were going to need a lot more staff and a lot more space really soon. Brian hoped that Cynthia had found some better office space prospects for him to look at that afternoon; the graphic designer he’d hired to help Justin was starting the following week and he had no idea where they were going to put him.

“Morning, Boss!” Ted was there to greet them the second they walked off the elevator. “Morning, Justin. Don’t you two look happy today!”

“That’s because my Brian let me play with his ‘smoothies’ first thing this morning, Mr. Money Man,” Justin overshared with a disconcertingly huge grin on his face. 

Ted had the good grace to blush at the blond’s unrepentant admission.

“Um . . . Uh . . . Okay. Good to know,” Ted responded.

“Go draw something and stop embarrassing our brand new CFO, Twat,” Brian ordered, raising his hand to point down the hallway towards the office that Justin had been using as a makeshift studio.

Justin waved and then skipped off down the hallway, his bare feet skimming along the carpet, humming the tune from the song that had been playing in the car on the way over. Brian caught himself smiling like a love sick fool after the retreating blond. He immediately wiped the silly grin off his face before turning to address his new employee. Ted hadn’t been quite as quick at blanking out his expression, though, meaning that Brian registered the lustful look his CFO was directing after the retreating artist.

“Stuff your eyes back in your head, Theodore. That blond is already taken. You’ll have to go find your own.”

“Right. Sorry,” Ted was quick to respond.

“Did you have something to say to me, Theodore, or did you just come to greet me at the elevators because you have a crush on our resident artist?” Brian couldn’t help poking at the poor man.

“Oh, yeah . . . So, I’ve got those budget forecasting numbers you wanted for the Zoobabies account . . .” Ted replied, switching easily into business mode as he rattled off figures and projections and numbers with his computer-like brain going at light speed.

Brian listened without comment as they walked together down the hallway towards the office he’d been using as his own. He mentally congratulated himself yet again for hiring his old friend as the CFO for the business. Ted might have gotten royally screwed up by his foray into addiction, but he was also a brilliant accountant. And, as long as he stayed clean, Brian was happy to help him out while taking advantage of Ted’s formidable skill set. Besides, the money thing was never one of Brian’s favorite parts of running a business anyway, and he was more than happy to let someone else have that mundane task while he did what he was best at - selling ideas to people. 

“. . . I think it makes perfect financial sense, provided you can get that discount you proposed for the airtime,” Ted rambled to a finish.

“Not a problem. I’ve got contacts in the area from back in my Ryder days,” Brian reassured him. “Alan will be happy to give us a deal on the media buy if we can guarantee him a certain percentage of prime time purchases.”

“Alan, huh?” Ted teased with a chuckle. “Just what sort of ‘contact’ is this Alan guy, Brian? The kind where all your negotiations happen on a hotel room mattress? And what does Justin think of those kinds of contacts?”

Ted’s comment rankled. Okay, so yeah, he HAD fucked Alan that one time back when he’d been trying to land the Bswift account for Marty Ryder. And maybe that had something to do with the great deal Alan had offered on the media buy for their campaign. But that had been a long time ago. Things were different now. That had been back when Brian was just trying to get a foothold in the industry and he’d been willing to use whatever it took to get ahead. Now that he had his own agency, he shouldn’t have to do that kind of shit anymore. It didn’t have anything to do with Justin, either. Not really. It was just that Brian didn’t want to have to fuck his way up the business ladder anymore. That kind of crap was beneath him. 

At least that was what Brian was telling himself.

“I’m pretty sure that speculating on your boss’ sex life isn’t one of the bullet points in your job description,” Brian countered as snarkily as he could, trying to distract from a topic he didn’t want to examine too closely just then. 

“Right. Sorry, Boss,” Ted immediately relented, taking a step back and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “So I’ll just go back to my office and . . . do something CFO-like.”

“Good call.” Brian gave him a weak smile of dismissal and then turned to greet Cynthia. “Morning, Ms. Switzer. So, how many new appointments did you put on my calendar between your earlier phone call and now?”

“Only two more,” Cynthia admitted with a brash and unapologetic smile. “But this is actually more important.” 

She handed him a phone message slip bearing a name he didn’t recognize and a phone number with a Chicago area code. 

“Who the fuck is Barry Brownwell?” Brian asked disdainfully.

“Barry Brownwell is the guy who took over the ClearOutdoors Media account for southern Illinois. He’s the guy you’ll have to work with to get the airtime for Zoobabies set up.”

“What happened to Alan Pyong?”

“Apparently Alan was transferred to the Missouri branch last year. This Barry guy took over. And, I’m afraid, he doesn’t seem like he’ll be quite as . . . accommodating . . . as Alan was, if you catch my drift,” Cynthia added with a wink. 

“A breeder?” Brian surmised.

“Afraid so. And, judging by the way he repeatedly called me ‘Honey’ when we were talking on the phone, a misogynistic breeder at that,” she added with a shake of her head. “I’m going to let you take over with him because if he makes even one more off-color comment to me, I’m going to rip him a new one through the fucking phone lines . . . which would not only be unprofessional, but would probably tank your media buy. So, from here on out, Barry is all yours, Brian. Have fun.”

Brian grumbled under his breath but didn’t bother to argue the point. Cynthia was way too valuable to him, and he didn’t pay her nearly enough, to force her to deal with sexist assholes. Nope. As the boss, that was his job. Unfortunately. It was a shame about Alan though. Not that he’d planned to fuck him again, but at least Alan was someone Brian knew he could work with. This Barry guy . . . Well, Brian would figure out some way to win the guy over. He had to.

Before he could retreat into his office to cogitate on the problem, however, Cynthia stopped him and offloaded a stack of mail, three more phone message slips, and a preliminary mock up board into Brian’s arms. 

“Oh, before I forget, I arranged for a car service for Justin starting tomorrow. The driver comes highly recommended by an old college friend of mine. Simon will pick Justin up here, take him to his graphic arts class at Allegheny Community College, and then wait to take him home. That way you won’t be disappearing on me every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon to ferry him around . . . Inevitably not making it back to the office afterwards when ‘something’ comes up.”

“Party pooper,” Brian frowned at his assistant.

“Sorry, but I’ve been your assistant for long enough to know that you can’t be trusted, Brian,” Cynthia laughed at the pouting man. “Especially not around a temptation like Justin. If I let you two out of the office together, we’ll never get through all of the work that’s piling up around here. Trust me; this is a better alternative and it means I won’t have to be constantly tracking you down and threatening your manhood to get you back in the office.”

“You leave my manhood out of this,” Brian warned, softening the admonition with a hint of a smile. “Fine. Whatever. Car service it is, I guess. At least until I can talk him into learning to drive himself.” He started to turn away again, only to remember one last item he needed to discuss with his assistant. “Oh, can you also order Justin a phone? If he’s going to be traipsing all over the city on his own, I’d better have a way to find him.”

“No problem, Boss. I’ll pick one up for him this afternoon.”

With that problem being seen to for him, Brian was finally able to escape into his office and start digging through the pile of work that Cynthia had amassed for him. A task that took him well past the lunch hour. Damn, there was a lot of stuff in that fucking pile. Why had he wanted to be his own boss again? 

He might have gone on working indefinitely if his concentration hadn’t eventually been interrupted by a cheerful knocking on his door, followed a second later by a cheerful, smiling, blond artist barging in uninvited.

“NOW I know what you meant by ‘smoothies’, Just Brian!” Justin burbled happily as he plopped down a large paper cup in the middle of the blotter, making himself at home in Brian’s lap at the same time, and taking a huge slurp out of the second cup he held in his own hand. “They’re delicious! I never had anything like this before. Here, try it!” Justin held his cup up to Brian’s mouth, almost forcing the straw between his lips, waiting till Brian took a sip. “This one is watermelon, cucumber and lime - can you imagine that? Who puts cucumbers in a drink? - and it’s called Summer Juice. Isn’t that amazing? I love Summer Juice.” The boy took another big sip and smiled at Brian with a little dribble of the red liquid running down from the corner of his ruby-red lips. “I got you the Acai Berry Boost - it’s really spicy but good too - because Cynthia said you could use something to energize you after how much work she’d made you do today. It’s got all sorts of yummy things in it like bananas and berries and . . . Here, try it!”

Justin picked up the second cup and shoved it into Brian’s hands. Brian had to grab it or it would have spilled all over his shirt. With the boy waiting and watching his every move, Brian obediently took a sip. And, to his surprise, it was actually quite good. He usually wasn’t a huge fan of sweet drinks; the closest he ever came to drinking a smoothie were the protein shakes he made for himself before a workout, but this was remarkably good. It was sweet but not at all cloying. Brian looked at the logo on the side of the cup to see where it came from.

“Tropical Smoothie Cafe?” he read the name. “Where’d you get this, Sunshine?”

“Cynthia got them for us. I was apologizing to her for making us late this morning because of playing with your smoothies and then she started explaining what a real smoothie was - not that YOUR smoothies aren’t real, Brian, because I love your smoothies - but when she finally stopped laughing, she offered to explain and then she went out and bought these for us along with lunch. Oh, wait, I forgot the lunch.” Justin popped up off Brian’s lap and trotted out of the office, coming back ten seconds later with a paper take-out bag. “Here. Cynthia said the Thai Chicken Bowl is yours and the Chicken Bacon Ranch sandwich is mine. Yum!”

Before Brian knew what hit him, he found himself being led over to the couch where the boy began laying out lunch on the coffee table. He didn’t know when he’d become the kind of person to take an actual lunch break, but there you had it; Justin could make him do pretty much anything. And he had to admit that the food was almost as good as the damn smoothies. 

“You know,” Justin commented a few minutes later, once he’d finished inhaling the flatbread sandwich he’d been slavering over. “These smoothies and this food is really good, but that picture - the logo? That’s the right word, isn’t it? - that logo on the packaging isn’t very good,” the artist concluded, trying out some of the new vocabulary he’d been picking up in the month or so he’d been working with Brian in the advertising world. “It’s kind of boring. It doesn’t tell you how yummy all the food and the smoothies are. I could draw them a pretty logo with berries and fruit and stuff surrounding their name and it would be so much nicer than that.”

Brian took a second look at the logo and realized that Justin had a good point. The logo was really dull. It wasn’t eye-catching at all. And in a highly competitive field like specialty food service, your product, no matter how good it was, would never get seen if your logo was mediocre. 

“You know what? You’re one hundred percent right, Sunshine,” Brian agreed with his artist, earning a huge sunshiny smile. “You have pretty good instincts for somebody so new at this. And you could definitely do a better job than this piece of shit.” 

Brian sat back and thought through what he might do in an advertising campaign for a company like this, his brain spinning through several ideas, each one better than the one that came before. And, while Brian was mentally creating a whole new pitch for the company, his resident artist had picked up a pen and one of the napkins that came out of the take out bag, and started doodling. 

“See? Something like this . . .” Justin held up his quick sketch.

The picture he’d drawn had used the same font the current logo employed, but he’d surrounded the lettering with berries, flowers and fruit, including tendrils of vegetation that curled through the lettering. Even that incomplete and messy sketch was ten times more eye-catching than the plain logo the company used. Brian knew he could work up a pitch around Justin’s concept that would surely blow the company away. 

“You know, I think you’ve got something there.” Brian nodded at the sketch. “Maybe you should finish that - do it right, with color, and digitize it - and then we’ll see if this Tropical Smoothies Cafe company is interested in hiring a new advertising firm.”

“Yay! More fun artwork for me to do!” Justin cheered as he began to clear away the detritus from their lunch. “Oooo, maybe I can work on this for my new Graphic Arts class! Remember how you showed me the course information on the Devil’s Box? The professor requires every student to do a term project that incorporates all the techniques she’s going to teach us. Do you think I could use this for my class?”

“Why not? That way, even if we don’t win the account, you’ll at least get credit for the project,” Brian concluded as he took a last slurp of his own smoothie and then tossed the cup into the wastebasket next to the desk. “But that can wait, Sunshine. Right now, I need your help burning off all the calories from that damn lunch you just made me eat.” Brian’s waggling eyebrows and leering smile immediately gave away exactly what type of workout he meant.

Justin giggled as he stepped into Brian’s arms and offered up his agreeably kissable lips. “Goody. Looks like I’m going to get more Smoothies for dessert after my smoothie lunch!” he commented as he sank to his knees and took care of Brian’s instant post-lunch woody right there and then.