“What have you done?” Justin cried out, running out of the house.

Brian was busy unloading bags and boxes out of the Jeep on the pavement in the driveway.

“Good. You’re finally awake. Help me carry these inside.”

Justin stared in amazement after his fiance as he disappeared inside the house with three heavy bags filled with God knew what. Knowing it was a losing battle, he picked two bags of kitchen towels and a pack of bottled water.

It took them six trips back and forth to have everything in the kitchen.

“Now explain why our kitchen looks like a small store,” Justin demanded, hands on his hips.

“First, wash your hands,” Brian demanded, already at the sink, meticulously scrubbing between his fingers.

Justin rolled his eyes, but joined him.

“You heard the news. We’re going in quarantine. I don’t want to miss on anything and keep the store visits to a minimum.” Brian pulled on a pair of plastic gloves, handing one to Justin. “Now, let’s disinfect everything and put them away.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“Justin, I don’t understand why you’re not treating this situation seriously.”

“Because everyone around me has gone mad!” Justin exclaimed, raising his hands in the air.

His mother had been constantly checking in with him, Debbie called them three times per day, and even Daphne warned him about staying inside. All that in the past three days.

They started unpacking slowly. There were at least three of each item. Justin had stopped shooting Brian curious looks after the fifth bag of pasta and sixth bag of rice. There was also a variety of booze and plenty of water and soda.

Justin’s amazement multiplied when he reached a large box. It was filled with detergents and cleaning products.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a shock, if they hadn’t had a stocking trip the previous day when they’d bought similar things but in moderate quantities.

While Justin tried to fit all the food in the pantry, Brian grabbed a second large box. “I’ll take it to the laundry room.”

“More detergents?” Justin groaned.

Brian's ears pinked, which was a rare sight. It made Justin suspicious, so he stomped to Brian and opened the box. It was filled with bags of toilet paper. He was even afraid to count.

“You’ve succumbed to the TP madness!”

“I did not!” Brian huffed, and left the room with the box.

It took them a couple of hours to have everything put away in their correct place, as much as possible. Justin was afraid to comment that they couldn’t fit all the frozen products in their freezer, but when he mentioned it, Brian sucked on his lips almost shyly.

“It’s good you brought that up. I ordered a separate freezer and a bigger fridge. They should arrive tomorrow.”

“How long is this quarantine going to last?” Justin asked fearfully. He was afraid for his own sanity.

“Several weeks, who knows? Why?”

“Because I’m afraid you’ll drive me crazy!”

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Later that evening, they were in the sitting room drinking. Justin was lounging down the length of the couch with his feet on Brian's lap.

“So what are we going to do during this lockdown?”

“I’ll still have to work,” Brian explained. “You will still paint. You have enough colors and canvas?”

Justin nodded. That had been one thing he panic-bought. He’d ordered too many of each color under the sky and canvas and pens and brushes and sketchpads. “It will arrive tomorrow probably.”

“Good.” Brian patted Justin's ankles. “We’ll make it. You’ll see.”

“If we don’t leave the house, we’ll be okay.”

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The following day their orders arrived.

Brian had the delivery guys wear gloves and brush their shoes on the threshold imbibed in chlorine. When they were gone, it was Justin’s turn to have a freak-out and clean the kitchen and hallway floor. Three times.

After stocking the new kitchen appliances, Justin decided to cook lunch. To his surprise, Brian offered to help.

Justin showed him how to chop vegetables, while he washed the chicken legs and started frying them.

Unlike other times when Brian had attempted to help Justin cook, this time he was invested in the task. Justin was pleased by the change. He’d lost count of how many times Brian had offered to help make dinner, only for Justin to become dinner on top of the counter or the table.

That evening, he became dessert, but he didn’t mind. It was Justin who started the foreplay by offering to thank Brian for helping him cook. He didn’t end up under the table like he’d envisioned, but straddling Brian in his chair.

While Justin bounced on top of Brian with his hands in Brian's hair, a thought occurred to him.

“Tell me you bought enough condoms,” he gasped out.

Brian's eyes widened, stopping mid-thrust. “We’re going on an emergency shopping trip when we’re done.”

“Fuck.” Justin breathed out a laugh that caught in his throat when Brian nailed his prostate.

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It took three stores for them to stock up on enough condoms and lube, because Justin insisted they shouldn’t buy twenty boxes from one store alone. In the end, they had forty boxes of condoms and twenty bottles of different types of lube.

“We’re safe if the apocalypse comes,” Brian joked on their drive back home.

“Do you realize it’s impossible for us to use all of them? Even if the quarantine extends to a month or two, right? There are twelve per box. We bought FORTY boxes of different flavors. That makes 480 condoms!” Justin cried out, scandalized.

“Sometimes I forget what a scary place your brain is.”

“There are only twenty-four hours in a day, and the most we’d fucked was that time you stole Ted’s Viagra. We’re not doing a repeat. Three is the most I can take these days.”

“Make it four, and I might allow you to visit the Promised Land.”

Justin threw his head back laughing loudly.

“You don’t want a free ticket to my ass?”

“Oh, believe me. I love all the rides that include your ass.” Justin leaned over the console, kissing Brian's cheek.

“Easy there. No touching.”

“Are you kidding me now? We fucked earlier. We’re going to fuck a lot judging by the amount of condoms we bought. You expect me not to kiss you?”

“Shit.” Brian frowned.

“No, no, no. You’re not overthinking this. We’re both safe.”

“You know what? Whatever. We’ll know in two weeks if one of us got this shit. I can’t live that long without touching you. If I die, I’m taking you down with me.”

Justin snorted. “Always the romantic.”

“You insist Romeo and Juliet is romantic. I’m showing you some real life romance.” Brian winked.

“They’ll find us dead surrounded by condoms and toilet paper.”

“What a way to go.” Brian barked a laugh. He parked in the garage. “Race you inside.”

Justin loved what a child Brian could be at times. He pushed his legs to run faster and overtook Brian on the stairs. Just as he was about to go into the bedroom, Brian grabbed his elbow making him lose balance. They fell in a heap in the hallway.

“What the hell?” Justin sat up, rubbing his elbow. “I know you’re a sore loser, but no need to injure me.”

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. I was going to suggest a shower.”

Justin narrowed his eyes, knowing Brian's underlined motives, but he accepted.

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On the first official night of the quarantine, Justin was inspired to start a journal of sorts on Twitter. It was all for fun.

Stocked up on the condoms and lube – the bare necessities. #quarantine #day1

Caught up with painting. Quarantine life not so bad. #quarantine #day2

One box of condoms down. Thirty-nine more to go. #quarantine #day3 #lifeisigood

That tweet had gotten a big reaction from their friends. It made them live for the time Justin would write the tweet before they went to bed. Between their sense of humor and the desire to see what could happen if they wrote something or another, their tweets got raunchy.

By the time day ten rolled by, even their little game had lost the charm. And speaking of charm . . . as in Charmin . . . Justin had been so bored that he’d counted how many rolls of toilet paper had. Twenty packs of eighteen rolls, which left them with the impressive number of 360 rolls of toilet paper.

His tweet that night was about them not lacking TP and when quarantine would be over, they wouldn’t need to buy any for several years. Brian had told him he was twat, but Justin was sure that Brian had lost his mind.

During working hours Brian was locked in his home office, only emerging for bathroom breaks and more coffee; he was somewhat more relaxed than on a regular working day. Justin discovered that he liked this version of his fiance more.

And it was amusing how Brian had taken to wear sweatpants paired with his Armani shirt, because during the video calls his partners only saw his face and torso.

Into their second week of quarantine, Brian had even coerced Justin to see if he could fit under his desk to take off the edge of a meeting Brian knew it would end badly. Justin had enough dignity to decline. But thirty minutes in Brian's conference, he couldn’t stand to listen to Brian shouting anymore, so he cracked the door open and crawled under his desk, slowly tugging at the string. Brian had jumped a mile, cursing loudly. His eyes met Justin's briefly and the corner of his lips lifted up, before he continued to talk to his Art Team, but much calmer.

Nothing beats blowing my man under the desk during one of his conferences. #quarantine #day12

Brian had gone ballistic for Justin's nerve to write that, but then he laughed along with Justin as their friends’ responses about them coming up with the craziest stuff.

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“Brian! Any more whites left? I’m about to load the washing machine!” Justin shouted from the laundry room.

Brian returned from his quest around the house for white clothes. He dumped a pair of socks and his boxers on top of Justin's head.

Justin fearfully pushed away the boxers from his face to look up at Brian. He sighed in relief when he noticed he had a pair of red boxers on and hadn’t taken them off just to spite him. Justin had declared a couple of days of abstinence because his ass just couldn’t take any more.

Once the washing machine was on, he turned to find Brian staring at the stack of toilet paper.

“Are you thinking of returning some of them?” Justin asked softly.

“Are you crazy? The lockdown just got prolonged. We’re looking for another month of staying inside the house.”

“You don’t plan on buying more, do you?” he asked, fearfully.

Brian smirked, turning to face Justin. He sucked his lips inside his mouth, which was never a good thing.

“I know how to put these to good use.”

“If you want spicy food, you won’t go near my ass for the next century!” Justin folded his arms across his chest.

“No, Sunshine.” Brian stepped closer, wrapping his arms around him, trapping Justin's arms at his sides. “I’m thinking to mummify you.”

“What,” Justin repeated flatly.

“I’m going to wrap you up in toilet paper.”

Justin blinked, struggling to pull away. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Nope. Still perfectly sane.”

“I knew one of us was going to crack. I expected it to be you since you’re the outgoing one out of the two of us. But I didn’t expect it to be so soon.”

“I’m still sane, Justin. It’s going to be fun.”

“We have very different concepts of fun.”

Brian bent him backwards, kissing him slowly. “Or we could fuck against the washing machine.”

“You give me tough choices.” Justin chuckled.

“I thought we said no to sex for a few days.”

“I could fuck you. . .”

Brian’s eyes sparkled, and Justin knew he was in trouble. “If you let me mummify you, my ass is your for the whole weekend.”

“You don’t play fair. At all!”

“Are you declining my offer?”

Justin pondered his answer. For whatever insane reason Brian wanted to wrap him in toilet paper, he decided it was worth it. He’d get to fuck Brian for two days.

A sly smirk appeared on Brian's face as he leaned even closer. “Pop quiz. No talking. Here’s a question. Multiple choices.”

Justin felt his heart flutter as he remembered Brian saying the exact same things the night they met.

“Do you want to fuck me? A. Yes. B. Hell Yes. C. Fuck Yeah.” Brian licked his lips. “Tick. Tick. Tick. Time’s up. Pencils down.” He pressed his lips to Justin’s. “What do you say?”

Deciding to toy with him, Justin hoped his voice wouldn’t betray his desire. “None of the above.”

Brian pulled back, staring at him in shock.

Justin bit hard on the inside of his cheek not to laugh at Brian's face. “My answer is: when and where.”

Brian frowned. “You can’t answer a question with a question.”

“Fine,” Justin huffed. “All the above.”

“Good boy.” Brian sealed the promise with a kiss. “Now, stay very still.”

Justin had almost forgotten his end of the bargain. “Do I have to undress?”

“It might help.” Brian was already bent over one of the boxes, taking rolls out.

Justin should have expected Brian to do a thorough job and not joke around. It took a few tries to get the hang of it and what to do in order to keep the paper from falling. Armed with medical tape and toilet paper, he set to work.

Justin was even afraid to complain about his back hurting from standing for so long.

He found solace in Brian's hands on his body, which messed with the groin area when his dick popped out between the layers of toilet paper. Brain pursed his lips and set to work to cover it with more toilet paper.

“If you planned to take a picture of me like this, you might rethink it,” Justin joked.

“No one will notice if I get the right angle.”

Justin doubted that was possible, but admitted defeat.

It took Brian about an hour to have him mummified. Then he had to endure a long photo session.

“Now what?” Justin shifted around. “My stomach is itchy. And I really have to piss.”

“Hang on.” Brian was typing on his phone.

“If you put this picture on Twitter I’m never talking to you again!”

“No social media, Sunshine. Just on our gang’s group on Whatsapp.”

“I hate you.” Justin moaned. “Seriously, I’m itchy. If I end up allergic to toilet paper, I’m going to murder you.”

Brian froze, then he hastily unwrapped Justin.

Justin stomped to the bathroom to piss, and he took a Claritine pill just to be on the safe side.

He found Brian in the sitting room, drinking from the bottle of whiskey, chuckling at his phone. Curious of what their friends had to say about his mummy self, Justin grabbed his phone.

Brian had shared no less than seven pictures and in some his boner was visible. Of course, Ted was nice to point out that being mummified turned Justin on. Michael said he could have lived without seeing all that. To which Ben commented that they should try it too. Emmett was the only decent friend scolding Brian for denigrating Justin.

A new message popped in the group. Brian was encouraging Ben to mummify Michael.

Justin typed: Justin has left the group.

“You’re doing it wrong. You actually have to leave the group for that message to appear,” Brian explain seriously.

“And miss all the shit you might say?” Justin asked, scandalized.

“You just like to lurk around. You seldom post.”

“Because I seldom have something to say. You’d think I’m the older and wiser in that group. You guys spam it with memes and gifs.”

His tweet ended up being a pictured of himself wrapped in toilet paper, saying: Got mummified today. #quarantine #day14

The following day, Justin’s tweet read: Revenge, sweet revenge. #quarantine #day15 Below it was a picture of a colorful Brian.

It had been a pleasure to have Brian sit still for hours on end while he painted his naked body. At least he’d created a piece of art, unlike Brian's joke to wrap him in toilet paper.

And since it was Justin's time with access to Brian’s ass, he ended up fucking Brian in his home studio, ending up with paint all over his body, too. It was nothing a shower didn’t clean away.

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In the third week came the contests.

It was Justin’s idea to have a cooking contest. He started it with breakfast in bed. Brian’s lunch had nearly sent them to the hospital, but Justin had been able to salvage the day with throwing away the burnt rice and cook better the raw meat.

Contest #1 Cooking. Barely survived it. #quarantine #day18

Then came the karaoke contest. They were lucky to have no neighbors for miles and miles. They made cocktails and sang at the top of their lungs. By the end of the night, they weren’t sure who won, because their throats were raw from singing for hours.

Contest #2 Karaoke. Drinking games. Fun times. #quarantine #day19

Day twenty proved to be a day of discoveries. Justin had no idea they had so many board games.

He’d woken up alone and found Brian in the sitting room surrounded by boxes with games. They started with Scrabble, but after the third time in a row when Brian lost, he shoved the board away, scattering the letters on the floor.

“I think Gus is more mature than you,” Justin scolded.

“We established I’m a sore loser.”

They moved on to card games and chess, but at nightfall, after several glasses of alcohol, Brian pointed to the Twister game.

“You’ll end up fucking me on top of it,” Justin muttered.

“And what’s bad in that?”

“We play that with Gus!”

“We have disinfectant. Besides, we never know when we’d see Gus again.” Brian pouted.

“Don’t turn sappy on me! Undress.” Justin downed his shot of vodka. “I’m not doing this sober or dressed.”

Brian complied quickly, emptying two glasses of Beam, and slapping a condom foil on the coffee table along with a bottle of lube.

Needless to say that after several wrong moves they were sprawled over the colored dots, connecting parts of their bodies.

Twister is more fun if played naked and drunk. #quarantine #day20

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Is it over it? Any longer now and I’m going to ask for tips how to get rid of a body. #quarantine #day30

“That’s cruel.” Brian pinned Justin to bed, trapping his hands above his head.

“Is it? You’re the one who ate all the snacks in the pantry.”

“I was bored.”

“Then I don’t want to hear another word about the three pounds you put on!”

“You’re cruel,” Brian insisted.

Justin used all his force to flip them around. His aim wasn’t the best, because Brian ended up thrown over the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry!” He lunged across the bed to look down at a bewildered Brian.

“I’ll show you sorry, twat!”

Justin was up and out of the bed in the next second, running out of the bedroom. Brian was hot on his heels. Justin made the mistake to take the stairs, but in his haste, he missed the last couple of stairs and ended up sprawled in the entry hallway.

“Shit.” Brian was next to him what felt like the next second. “Tell me you’re all right.”

Justin rolled on his back, staring at the ceiling as he started laughing until tears leaked from his eyes.

“Is this the time we lose our minds?” Brian asked, joining him on the floor.

“I’m ready to hear we can leave the house.” Justin turned to face Brian. “As much as I love you, I miss the others.”

“Yeah, me too. And it’s not helping to talk to them over the phone.”

Justin took Brian's hand, knowing his mind had drifted to their Facetime with Gus the previous day. “You’ll see your son again.”

“Until then. . .” Brian rolled on top of Justin. “Wanna fuck?”