- Text Size +
Story Notes:

Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  No money is being made from this work.  No copyright infringement is intended. AKA - they're not mine. I wish they were mine. I'd promise to play with them nicely and feel - I mean, feed - and water them, but Showtime and Cowlip won't let me have them. Boo Hoo!

Author's Chapter Notes:

Sorry - I couldn't escape this story. It just refused to let me be until I wrote it. Enjoy! TAG

::::::::::::::::::


“You seem rarin’ to go this morning! What's got you up so early, Sunshine?” Brian asked when he saw his twink already hard at work drawing furiously in his sketch pad before Brian had even left for work.


“Michael and I figured out a great ending for our next Rage installment,” the artist explained as he used his pinkie to smudge a line of charcoal on the paper before sitting back and eyeing it critically. “Here. What do you think?” He offered up the drawing pad to Brian's scrutiny.


In the first panel, Brian saw the image of Rage’s latest enemy - Reverend Swineheart - preaching his litany of hatred from a church pulpit. Then there was a second frame showing Rage in his mild mannered Ad Exec persona offering the Evil Reverend a nicely wrapped gift box. In the third picture, Swineheart was opening the gift and taking out what looked like a large, gaudy ring. In the final image, the swinish preacher was slipping the ring on his hamhock-sized finger. The dramatic caption in that last panel read: ‘The Ring of Truth!’


“The Ring of Truth, huh?” Brian smirked at his eagerly waiting blond artist boy. “Sounds ominous.”


“It is!” Justin chuckled with a self-satisfied air. “See, Rage is going to use his mind control powers to make Reverend Swineheart think that, not only can he not remove the ring once it's on his hand, but that while wearing it he must ALWAYS tell the absolute truth. So, instead of continuing to spread his homophobic and hate filled lies to his followers, he'll be forced to tell them all the truth about how he's just manipulating them and playing on their fears to gain power and steal all their money while subjugating the citizens of Gayopolis.” The young artist beamed up at the man who was now smiling down on him with pride. “I know - it's genius.”


“Twat!” Brian pronounced with enough affection that the word sounded like an endearment. “Nice concept. Where’d you come up with such a fucking ugly ring though,” Brian asked as he looked at the series of drawings again and noted the in-depth detail Justin had instilled into the prop used by Rage.


Justin picked up a small object off the counter top that Brian hadn't noticed before, holding it out for his partner’s inspection. “I've been working off this. I found it in that little junk store next to Michael’s comic book shop. It's what gave us the idea. Doesn't it look mysterious. Like a ring that WOULD have some magical charm placed on it?”


Brian took hold of the gaudy hunk of metal and rolled it around in his palm. The ring was big and heavy - probably made out of some heavy brass alloy. It looked old. The black enamel paint used to color the metal was scratched off in places but that just added to the mysterious look of the thing. The big black ‘jewel’ that graced the top was opaque and seemed as if it truly might be hiding something in its depths that wouldn't show until illuminated.


“Don't you love it! All the squiggly, esoteric little designs on the sides and top are perfect for our plot line. You almost want to believe it's magic, right?” Justin gushed over his find, picking it up out of Brian's hand before the older man could say anything. “I know. I know. You're probably going to say it's just a piece of junk. But, hey, it's fun to imagine, right? I mean,” Justin got that familiar gleam of mischief in his eye and, before Brian could react, he'd slipped the hunk of junk onto Brian's left ring finger, “just think how useful a ‘Ring of Truth’ would be. I'd finally know all your secrets!”


Justin's exuberant laughter rang out through the loft and, as usual, the sound went straight to Brian's dick. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd never admit it, but he loved it when his twink got all playful and teasing with him. And that carefree, impish laugh was almost a bigger turn on for Brian than the kid’s ass. It wouldn't do to ever tell the younger man that though - he already wielded more power over Brian than the reluctant brunet was comfortable with.


“I fucking love your laugh, Sunshine,” Brian heard himself confessing less than a second later, despite his conviction to never, ever admit that particular sentiment.


Justin responded with yet another peal of delicious laughter. “See. The ring is working already! I love it! Now you won't be able to resist the urge to tell me the truth about just how much you truly love me! My evil plan has worked!” The blond brat bragged, standing up from the barstool at the counter and wrapping his arms joyfully around Brian's neck. “And, even better, you can't take the ring off until I say. Just think of all the ways I can use this to my advantage, Mr. Kinney! You just wait - by the end of the day I'll have you spouting out your love for me and reciting sonnets in my honor!”


“Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine . . .” an astonished Brian heard himself reciting one of his favorite Ben Johnson sonnets before he could stop himself.


Thankfully, the laughing blond sprite did him a huge favor, shutting Brian up with a passionate and yet still playful kiss. “Better watch it Stud or everyone will know that you're secretly a closet romantic of the highest order!”


Ten minutes of additional kissing and petting ensued before Brian found himself being stripped out of the business suit he'd just put on as his wanton partner led him back towards the shower. He didn't fight it though. He couldn't. His Sunshine just had that much power over him and always had. So, he'd be late getting into the office - again - but what else could Brian do?


:::::::::::::::::


A half hour later, refreshed from his second shower of the morning - not to mention the wet and wild shower sex with his favorite laughing imp - Brian finally made it out of the loft. He was running woefully late so he didn't bother to stop at the Diner for breakfast. Even so, Cynthia was waiting for him as he ambled into the office, the toe of her stylish pump tapping against the tile floor with evident irritation.


“You're late, Brian!” were the first words out of her mouth. “We've got the presentation for Stuppers Frozen Foods in forty-five minutes and the boards still need your final review.”


“I know. I know,” Brian shrugged out of his jacket and slid behind his desk as he scanned the boards in question. “I couldn't help it though. Justin was being so fucking adorable this morning. That laugh of his just makes me so horny. I didn't really have a choice. I pretty much HAD to fuck him again in the shower. I just can NOT get enough of him,” Brian heard the words coming out of his mouth even as he cringed from the too open disclosure.


Cynthia meanwhile was staring at Brian incredulously. It's not like she didn't already know how enamored her boss was with Justin - she’d instinctively known just how taken the man was with the kid long before Brian probably did - but she never expected to hear Brian openly confess to it. It was just so out of character for him to make that kind of confession. Not to mention that Brian Kinney had used the word ‘adorable’. That was just fucking weird.


Brian glanced over at his assistant and almost panicked when he noted the look of disbelief on her face. He had no idea why he'd said that shit to Cynthia of all people. He really wasn't the type to share anything personal with his business colleagues, even though he considered Cynthia more of a friend than an employee most of the time. It was too late to take it back, though. The only thing Brian could think to do to cover up his little slip was to plow on and try to distract them both with something else. Something not embarrassing. Something work related.


“These boards suck,” Brian said the very next thing that popped into his mind - which, thankfully, was much more inline with something Brian Kinney would say.


After the rush to revise the boards and pull together the other last minute details needed for the presentation to their next potential client, both Brian and Cynthia had forgotten the odd start to the day. By the time Alexander Stupper had been led into the conference room by Cynthia, seated at the conference table and plied with the beverage of his choice, everything felt like it was back to normal. Brian greeted the CEO with a firm handshake, introduced Ted, who was sitting in because he had all the pricing figures at hand, and then turned to the newly prepared boards that had been set up on easels at the front of the room. Brian was ready to start his pitch. He knew just what he'd planned to say to wow this client. It was practically a done deal already. No problem.


Until Brian opened his mouth and found the most unexpected words pouring out of his lips.


“This is the campaign I was going to pitch to you today, Mr. Stupper, but I find that I seriously can't be bothered to even go there,” Brian announced, totally against his will. “I mean, I'm sure I could easily sell you on this campaign, and it would definitely help your sagging numbers for at least a little while, but what's the fucking point? The crap you sell is . . . Well, it's crap. It tastes like frozen cardboard. I've tried it and, to be honest, I've eaten better flavored cardboard. I really can't believe anyone in their right mind would waste a penny buying your shit - I don't care how great my ads are, it's not going to help you for long. I can probably talk people into buying just about anything once, but after they try this dross, they won't be coming back. Not unless you actually start making the food edible.”


“Mr. Kinney! I resent what you're implying. My company goes to a lot of trouble with the recipes for the products we offer. We research the best production methods and . . .” Mr. Stupper insisted in an outraged shout.


“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Brian heard himself completely dismissing the client’s protests. “Trust me, it's total fucking crap!”


“I think . . . I think what Brian's trying to say,” Ted spoke up, nervously trying to intervene and hopefully save the presentation, “is that we need to change the company's image with regard to the way some people think of frozen entrees. That IS the common conception about frozen food, right? But I'm sure that, with the ideas we have, Kinnetik can help you change that image. Right, Brian?”


“No. I really, truly, just hate the stuff, Theodore. It really DOES taste like crap,” Brian insisted, unable to curb his tongue even as he watched the potential client and his $250,000 account go up in smoke.


“But, but, but . . .” Ted was sputtering and wringing his hands.


“This is an outrage, Mr. Kinney. Your firm came highly recommended, but I can't imagine why. I’ve never . . .”


“Never what? Never had anyone willing to tell you the truth?” Brian pressed, even while he was internally screaming at himself to shut the fuck up already. “Because that's all I'm doing. I'm telling you the truth that you should have heard a long time ago. Your food tastes like shit. Have you ever actually tasted the stuff yourself? I doubt it. In fact, you know what, I DARE you to actually eat your own food for one full week. Three meals a day. If you can honestly manage to eat your own frozen crap for one full week and still maintain it’s not just flavorless frozen cardboard, then I'll give you this campaign at a ten percent discount. I doubt you can make it even a full day.” Brian looked at the angry client who was now standing next to his utterly confused co-workers, shrugged almost helplessly, then stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


:::::::::::::::


Brian hid out in his office the rest of the morning. He could hear the ebb and flow of the office uproar outside his closed door, but didn't have the guts to face it. He was seriously worried that once he did venture outside, Cynthia would have his one remaining ball.


Besides, Brian was too busy trying to figure out what had just happened. He had no idea what the hell had gotten into him earlier. Despite the fact that he was known for his habit of telling it like it is, Brian had never deliberately tanked his own presentation like that. What he'd said was the truth, of course, but he didn't have to tell that to the potential client. Did he? At least not in that abrupt fashion. What had he been thinking?


As soon as the noise in the outer office died down a bit, Brian finally got up enough courage to open the door and look around. All was quiet for the moment. Cynthia's desk was vacant - she’d either gone to lunch or quit. Maybe this was as good a time as any to make a run for it. Brian figured he'd go out for lunch, get some air, clear his head and then come back later to deal with the gargantuan-sized mess he'd made.


Ten minutes later Brian found himself walking into the Diner, sighing with relief when he looked around and noted that neither Ted nor Cynthia were inside. He slinked over to the booth he and the gang regularly used and seated himself, trying to draw as little attention as possible. He felt like any more attention directed at him today could only be a bad thing.


Kiki took his order, not giving him shit for once again ordering his usual turkey sandwich on dry wheat bread, for which Brian was grateful. If it had been Deb, she wouldn't have been able to resist making some snarky comment. Brian had already had a trying morning though and really wanted to avoid any further confrontations. He didn't think his nerves could handle it.


“Brian!” His peaceful, controversy-free lunch was interrupted before he'd taken his third bite by the advent of the Novotny-Bruckner contingent. “Didn't expect to see you here. We hardly ever see you around these days - not since Justin's been back,” Mikey teased his long-time friend as he slid into the booth across from Brian. “It's good to see you actually pulled out of his ass long enough to get some food.”


“Michael . . .” Ben cautioned his husband, joining them in the booth.


“It's okay, Ben. Brian knows I'm only kidding,” Michael asserted, grinning at the victim of his teasing while Brian tried to ignore him. “Besides, you know it's true. I’ve barely seen either of them in weeks. I finally had to bribe Justin with lunch to get him to come over and work on Rage yesterday.”


Brian jumped on the change of topic. “It sounds like you got a lot done, though. Justin was diligently working on some new drawings when I left this morning. The ring idea wasn't too bad either,” Brian commented, remembering as he said it that he was still, for some unknown reason, wearing the prototype of the comic book prop, and holding up his hand to show off the accessory.


“Hey! You're wearing it! Doesn't look half bad either!” Michael gushed and then proceeded to enthusiastically explain to everyone all about the ‘Ring of Truth’ plot device that they were going to use.


Since Brian had already heard the full details from his own partner that morning, he found his attention drifting almost immediately. Instead of some lame comic book plot, he instead found himself thinking of the truly superb shower sex he and his Sunshine had engaged in that morning. It really had been remarkably hot. But, then again, every time with Justin was remarkable. The boy himself was simply remarkable. Every single part of him. From his remarkably clear blue eyes, to his soft, pale skin, to his perfectly proportioned lithe little body, all the way down to his pleasantly plump and remarkably tight little ass. And that wasn't even considering the younger man's exceptionally remarkable, and eminently talented cock. Shit! The things his Sunshine could do with that wondrously thick, remarkably long cock. Brian had always been a bit of a size queen, so of course it was inevitable that he'd ended up with someone that filled out his jockstrap well, but he'd never expected to enjoy letting the boy wield that remarkable cock of his quite so frequently. Never say never, though, right?


Michael paused in his diatribe about Rage’s latest nemesis when he heard Brian voice an involuntary groan of lust. “You okay Brian?” Mikey looked around him, sure he'd spot some new hottie that his lothario friend was ogling. “Are you even listening to me, Brian? I'm sure whatever trick you're planning to pounce on next can wait at least till I'm through talking. Shit, Brian, don't you ever get enough?”


“I've told you before, Mikey, there's no such thing as enough. Especially not when we're talking about my Sunshine’s magnificent cock - which is what I was just thinking about, by the way, not some skanky anonymous trick. I wouldn't let a trick anywhere near my ass. Now Sunshine, he's another matter. That cock of his is fucking addictive. Shit! I can't wait to get home tonight to that boy and his cock. My asshole’s twitching already just thinking about it. I think I'm going to let him bend me over the couch as soon as I walk in the door and just pummel me into a needy, begging mess.” Brian could hear the forbidden words pouring out of his mouth, but couldn't, for the life of him, stop himself in spite of the thoroughly shocked looks on the faces of not only Mikey and Ben, but also most of the other diners sitting nearby. “Then again, I'm pretty much always a needy, begging mess whenever he fucks me. He's just THAT good. I think he's probably a better top than me, even. If it weren't for the fact that I still feel the need to keep up my reputation, I'd probably just give it all up and happily let myself become his designated bottom boy for life.”


In desperation, Brian slapped both hands over his mouth to try and quell any further embarrassing admissions. Holy Shit! He did NOT just announce to all of Liberty Avenue how much he loved to bottom for his twinkie lover. Did he? This couldn't be happening. Could it?


With one hand still clamped over his disobedient mouth, Brian lurched to his feet, threw a wad of money down on the table and ran out of the Diner, leaving behind him a room full of completely shocked and still silent onlookers. He kept running all the way down the street, not stopping until he was at the front door of the loft. Luckily the door to the loft was unlocked and he was able to slide the heavy metal door open, duck inside and immediately lock it behind him before he collapsed onto the floor.


“Brian?” Justin got up from where he'd been sitting at the dining table and hurried over to see what was going on. When he saw his partner lying in a sobbing heap on the floor he knelt and wrapped the larger man tenderly in his arms. “What's wrong, Brian. Are you hurt. Did somebody hurt you? What is it?”


“I . . . I can't stop saying stupid shit. All day. I can't stop myself,” Brian tried to explain, sniffling and wiping his face in an effort to hide the evidence of his emotional breakdown. “I told a client his product was crap and refused to give him the ad campaign Kinnetik had prepared until he tried eating his own food.”


“Well . . . That sucks for your bottom line, I guess, but if the food really is that bad, then it's probably best in the long run that you not associate Kinnetik with it,” Justin said, trying to comfort his partner with words as well as gestures.


“I told . . . I told Cynthia that I thought your laugh was adorable and that I just couldn't get enough of fucking you,” Brian admitted.


Justin simply laughed. “I don't think the fact that we have an extremely healthy sex life is really much of a secret, Brian. Although, I bet Cynthia was pretty shocked by you using the word ‘adorable’. I'm sure she'll get over it though.”


“Yeah, maybe, but then, at lunch, I . . . I . . . I told Mikey and Ben . . . Um . . . I told Mikey how much I . . .”


Brian couldn't go on. It was too horrible. He still couldn't believe it himself.


“You told Michael what, Brian? Hmmm? I'm sure it's not as bad as you think,” Justin offered reassuringly as he continued to rub soothing circles into Brian's back.


“But it IS that bad. Shit! I . . . I told him - and the half of Liberty Avenue that was listening in - that I . . . I . . . Ilovetobottomforyou.” The last sentence came out in such a rushed and jumbled mess that Justin couldn't understand it at all and just sat there waiting until Brian explained further. Finally, with a dejected sigh, Brian continued with his confession. “I announced, very loudly, while we were seated in the Diner, that I loved to bottom for you and that I was considering giving up topping altogether.”


“Oh, Brian!” Justin couldn't help the giggle that escaped him at this admission. “I can't believe you did that! I bet Michael just about had a heart attack! That was a bit cruel, although I would have loved to have been there to watch his face. That had to have been absolutely hilarious.”


“But . . . But, I . . . I didn't mean to say it. I just couldn't help myself. And now everybody's gonna know . . .” Brian let his head drop down onto Justin's soft yet strong shoulder as the younger man continued to console him.


“Shit, Brian! You know, if anyone around here is adorable, it's you, big guy,” Justin's laughter was doing as much to improve Brian's mood as anything. “It'll be okay, Brian. Nobody's gonna believe any of it. They'll just think it's a huge fucking joke. I wouldn't worry about it. Your rep will be just fine, Stud.”


“It's NOT a joke, though. It's the truth. I DO love to bottom for you. Only you, though, Sunshine,” Brian fessed up while looking down, too shy to even meet the other man's eyes as he admitted his innermost secrets. “I love when you fuck me. It makes me feel . . . special . . . I love you, Sunshine. So much that it scares me . . .”


“Shhhh! It's okay, Brian. I already know. And I love you too,” Justin assured, cupping his jaw with one hand in order to bring his face up so that Brian could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Now, come with me to bed and let me prove it to you.”


“Okay, Sunshine,” Brian finally smiled again, linking the fingers of his left hand with Justin's as he got to his feet and meekly following his lover towards the bedroom.


As their fingers meshed, Justin felt the strange sensation caused by the bulky black ring that Brian was still wearing. With nimble fingers, he quickly slid the ring off and tossed it on top of the dresser as they passed. He noted the shiver that ran across Brian's skin as soon as the ring was gone. When Brian looked over at him with a question in his eyes, it made the boy wonder. Maybe there was something a bit strange about that ring after all?


“I think you've had enough truth for one day, Brian,” Justin teased and Brian nodded, before pulling off his clothes and  kneeling on the bed as he waited for Justin.


Because, ring or no, Brian really never could get enough Sunshine, and that was just the simple truth of the matter.

 

The End.
Tagsit is the author of 61 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked The Ring Of Truth also liked 562 other stories.
You must login (register) to review.