JUSTIN'S POV

You don't really need to find out what's going on
You don't really want to know just how far it's gone
Just leave well enough alone
Eat your dirty laundry

10:47 p.m., Sunday night at the loft

I’ve seen this place so many different ways in the last four years—impeccably furnished like the lair that it is, fleeced because of my carelessness, cold and empty because of my infidelity, stripped of everything but our bed because of my idealistic convictions, and then void of everything but the two of us screaming about how much we cared about each other and why that and cancer were good enough reasons to keep us apart. But I’ve never seen it like this, never cluttered with boxes and piles of my stuff—all of my stuff—everywhere. I have a lot more stuff here than I realized.

My computer—packed. My clothes—neatly folded in my new suitcases. My personal things—separated from his. He’s taken care of everything.

“When I get your laundry back this week, I’ll pack that and send it, too, with everything else. You should probably look through the drawers and the closet and everything and make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

I’m sure he didn’t. He’s much better at this than I am, obviously. I guess I can walk around for a few minutes, make a half-assed effort to see if there’s anything he forgot. Feels like it’s the least I can do. There’s a pile of stuff by the dining room table with my name on it.

“Brian, what’s this?” He walks toward me from the bedroom.

“Oh, Mikey must have been here. That’s your loot from the party.” He picks up Lindsay’s gift—a framed print of my Picasso addiction. I can’t believe she remembered that. There’s a stack of cards and letters from everyone on the bar. Wow. Now, I really feel like shit.

“Looks like you’ve taken care of everything.” I made him do this, all of this, by himself. I’m an asshole. “I’m sorry…that you had to do all of this by yourself. This makes me feel like shit.”

“Yeah, well, apologies are a waste of time.” He smiles at me. “That we don’t have.” He points to a pile on the dining room table. “Few things I didn’t know what to do with. Just let me know—stay or go. And look, you’re gonna have to use this new luggage I got you. We don’t have time to go back to your mom—"

“I’m going to use it.” I hold on to his sleeve, turning him around, away from the pile of my shit on the dining room table, so he’s facing me. “If you don’t mind, when you go to my mom’s this week, just throw that other luggage out or tell my mom I don’t want it, or something—because I don’t want it.” I let go of his arm, but he doesn’t let go of me, his arms around me.

“Sure. You gonna tell me what happened with your dad?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it right now. Probably won’t for a while.” He gives me that “okay, fine” look. The one he always gives me when he knows better than me, but isn’t going to push it.

“Your call, but whatever happened, Justin, it’s his loss.”

“I know.”

I know he’s right. I just wished I believed it.

********************************
He was a hard-headed man
He was brutally handsome
And she was terminally pretty

He’s got an ulterior motive for making us take a shower. He’s trying to lighten my mood. Usually works.

Yeah, okay, it’s working.

“You’re gonna need to call Daphne tomorrow. She was pissed at you tonight.” Shit, I didn’t even think about Daphne. Aw, fuck. I can’t call her after this. We’ll be on the phone all night. He’s massaging shampoo into my hair. I’m not used to having to wash my own hair. God, I’m so fucking spoiled. “That feels really, really, really good.” He laughs.

“I know it does. You’re a shampoo whore.” Yeah, I am.

“God, I’m so tired, Brian. Aren’t you tired?”

“Turn around. Yeah, we haven’t slept much at all since Thursday night. I could use a nap.” I knew he’d shampoo it again. Every time I tell him it feels really, really good, he shampoos it twice.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m gonna save so much money on shampoo once your ass is gone.” Yeah, really.

“Can I take this shampoo with me?” He smiles at me, kissing me as he rinses my hair again.

“I had an extra bottle, and it’s already in your suitcase.” Figures.

“Honestly, Brian, you’ve really taken care of everything.” The conditioner feels cool in my hair. “I still can’t believe you did all of this for me—all of this—this whole weekend.”

“Not going to have some bottom boy of mine taking over Hollywood looking like he just walked out of the Old Navy Factory Outlet store.” He turns me back around again, leaning me back against him as he guides the water, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. I close my eyes, feeling his erection against my ass.

“I don’t look like that.” He runs his fingers through my hair to be sure he got all of it out and picks up the soap.

“Some days you do," he teases me. I relax against him as he starts washing me. I wonder if I can take this soap with me, too. “Can, I—"

“In your suitcase.”

Figures.

“Can I take the shower, too?” He smacks me on the ass.

“Don’t push it.”

I listen to the water fall for a minute or so, reaching behind me and in between us to brush his cock with my fingers, tracing it slowly with my thumb as he dotes on me with his soapy hands. The affection in his voice, in my ear, makes me smile, makes me feel calm.

“You seem better to me. You looking forward to this a little bit now? To going?”

“Yeah. Actually, I am. I’m kind of excited, believe it or not.” I can feel the tension leave his body. I can actually feel it.

“Good. Listen to me, when you get out there, put on your new clothes, go to work every day, boss people around, fuck a bunch of movie stars, A-list only, only, live the life of Brian all day, every day—"

“You’re cracking me up.”

“I’m not finished. Please be quiet. And when you get home at night, no matter how late it is, take off all of your clothes, except your pretty little necktie, call me up, and tell me all about it.” Ah, so that’s it. He turns me around to face him.

“I get it now. That’s the only reason you bought me these clothes, the luggage, everything. You just want to live vicariously through me.” He flutters his eyes at me in that Brian Kinney way that always makes my knees fold. It’s a subconscious thing. He doesn’t even know he does it. He does it in the shower a lot; maybe it’s a “steamy” thing.

“You’re a smart boy. Knew you’d figure it out sooner or later.” His hand is on my ass as he leans in to kiss me.

“So, I’m just you. Only younger, prettier, blonder, with better opportunities?”

“And about to be reminded how you earn them.”

He shuts off the water, a kind, expectant look on his face. I lean back against the wall, a coy smile covering mine, my lips pressed together. He presses himself against me as I put my arms around his neck, his hands roaming down my stomach massaging my cock. He’s whispering things in my ear about how hard and how horny I am. I tell him it’s because of him, of what he does to me.

"You have no idea what I'm going to do to you."

I try to get the condom out of his hand. He won’t let me, quietly laughing at my frustration. He won’t even let me turn around. I find out why a few minutes later. It’s not a condom. It’s a cock ring.

Wait.

It’s two.

The black, rubber one we use all the time, well, he uses on me. The smaller one that looks just like it, I’ve never seen. He kisses me as he slides them on, the smaller one stopping right past the head of my dick. Nice.

“Like that?” He grins at me. I run my finger over it. Looks nice, too.

“Yeah.”

“Thought you would. Time for bed.”

*******************************

He had a nasty reputation as a cruel dude
They said he was ruthless, said he was crude
They had one thing in common: they were good in bed

Brian always gives you what you need, no matter who you are. Doesn’t matter if it’s a push in the right direction, a job when you’re whole life has fallen apart, or advice that you don’t want to hear, but you know is the truth. Or the best, most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. You can always trust him to do that. You can always trust him.

There were so many times when I felt some stupid need to test him, to make him prove how much he loved me. And then, when he wouldn’t, I thought that he didn’t, not understanding that he just doesn’t take tests. Took me so long to figure that out. He may not have used those exact words back then, but I could tell by the look on his face every time I doubted him, that I’d insulted him. It was a buried emotion, but I could see it. That was how I knew.

He doesn’t take tests, but he never backs down from a challenge or a chance to remind everyone that he’s unpredictable, in charge, and, if he wants, powerful. I see this side of him at work when I drop by, when the world needs to be saved, and in the bedroom, where I get to benefit from one of his other over-looked qualities—his generosity.

This collage of qualities he has—his power, his generosity, the fact that I can trust him implicitly even when I’m in the most vulnerable place I’ve ever been, makes him irresistibly attractive to me.

Oh god. That was the longest, hardest, best kiss I’ve ever had, and it’s still warm and steamy in here. Probably from the kissing. He wants me to dry him off now.

**************************

Life in the fast lane
surely make you lose your mind

I didn’t do a very good job drying us off. He looks incredible on these white sheets.

“I just realized I’ve never seen you like this, Brian.”

“Like what?”

“Glowing under this orange light on white sheets. Plus, I barely dried you off. You look like a model or something. You're glistening."

“It’s our own little White Party. You finally get to go to one.” He pulls me down on top of him. The sheets are sort of sticking to us ‘cause we’re still a little wet. He’s playing with my dick, fingering the rings, driving me crazy. “You know how pretty your cock looks when it’s all dressed up?”

“Yes.” God, that’s embarrassing for some reason.

“I’m not done dressing you up.” I know. I know what he’s going to do. I try to straddle him. I want him to do it.

“Oh no, you’re gonna suck me off first, then you’ll get what you want.” I moan into his mouth. He ends our kiss. “Get between my legs.” He bends his knees as I start licking my way down his chest, stopping to suck on his nipples for a while, his thighs hugging me tightly. “Nice, Justin.” He strokes my wet hair, his hand on my arm. I bite them as I keep moving. He slaps my hand. “Don’t start that shit with me.” I smile a little. “Unless that’s what you want. Payback, Sunshine. Payback.”

Yeah. Payback.

I laugh quietly, my eyes raised in his direction as I lick his ab muscles. He’s smiling at me, relaxing back onto the pillows, lacing his fingers with mine.

“Much better.”

He starts to moan softly when I get to his navel. I feel him toying with strands of my hair, his breathing changing a little. I can see the muscles in his thighs defining themselves as I lay the side of my face next to his cock and let my warm breath float over it as I touch it lightly with my fingers. His dick is gorgeous. Sometimes I just like to lie here and look at it. I reach my hand out and run the back of it down the inside of his inner thigh, my fingers slowly trailing all the way down to his ass and then back up again.

“Hmmmm. You’re being awfully sweet to me.”

“Can’t help it.”

He squeezes my hand. My tongue reaches out, just barely, making small, repetitive runs from about halfway up his cock, over the ridge and then swirling around the head. He’s wet. He shifts a little underneath me, making it fall closer to my mouth. I bring my hand back from his thigh and run my finger up and down the far side of his dick while I lick the side closest to my mouth, a little harder now.

“Good, Justin.” He arches into my mouth. Our hands part. I need it. I need more hands.

When I press him hard against my mouth, he gets wet again, so I flick my tongue over the head a few times until he’s begging me to fuck his slit. And then I do. He cries out and pulls the fuck out of my hair. The absolute fuck. I slide him into my mouth. He lies back down a little, loosening his grip on my hair. He can feel me smiling as I suck him.

“Liked that, didn’t you?”

“Hmm?” My mouthful of cock.

“Like to hear me call your name like that, don’t you?”

“Mmm, hmm.”

“Keep that up and you’ll hear it again.” Promises, promises. I pull off of his cock for a minute, my mouth kissing it’s way down his shaft to his balls, sucking them into my mouth. He starts stroking himself. “You’re trying to kill me. Don't think I don't know that."

“I like to watch you like this. When you get so crazy, you have to touch yourself while I enjoy the rest of you.” He wants to tell me I’m a shithead or something, but he can’t when I'm blowing on his balls. Just won’t work. “Don’t come, Brian.”

He ignores that. He won’t.

“Suck, Justin.”

I go back to sucking his balls, the way he likes, the way he always has, even now when they’re different---one so heavy, one not. Doesn’t matter. I give them both equal treatment, saving the real one for last because by then his eyes are rolling back in his head and he wants to come.

“Get back here."

He orders me back to his cock, his hand sliding away as he pushes my mouth down his dick. He clamps my head for a while with both hands, fucking my face, telling me how good I am, how much my pretty little face deserves to be fucked. I love when he gets like this. His hands leave my head for a second because he wants me to drive now, he wants to relax, and because he’s opening the lube. I can hear him. He grabs my right hand, coats my fingers, and then falls back on the pillows.

“Go.”

I don't suck him while I do this. He'll come. I watch his face, his beautiful face. I watch his eyes flutter as my warm, wet fingers pass back and forth outside his hole. Easy, gentle pressure. I listen to him say my name quietly and then a little louder as I slowly slide inside. Brian's tight. Unbelievably tight. I watch his fingers come down and dig into the top of his leg. I listen to him breathe, when he does. When he can. He gasps a little when my hand starts to move inside him, his hips following my lead. I smile as he throws his arms over his head and holds onto the bed and starts giving me orders again.

“Push. Push."

He likes to bark orders. Makes him feel in control. That’s okay. I like it, too. Tables will turn in just a second, though.

Right when he lets go, when he's lying here with his cock hard and warm and wet, and his ass slick and open, and everything inside him feeling like it’s about to overheat and erupt and surrender and betray him all at the same time. The tables will turn.

“I want you to come, Brian.”

“Christ.” He arches so hard that his face is practically facing the wall behind our bed.

“Open your eyes, look at me, and come.” I’m jerking him for a second, his cock soaked with my spit. He looks at me. “That’s better. Now, come.” I take him in my mouth again. He watches me, his eyes growing wider. I suck him hard, scissoring my fingers in his ass. That did it. He’s gone. He’s flooding my mouth, his fingers digging grooves into my head.

“Ah, ah, oh god, oh god, oh shit, oh god.”

I hold him still as his cock gives up the fight in my mouth and then slowly slip my fingers out of his ass. He smiles, wanting me on top of him immediately, pulling me hard. He wants to kiss me, to lick his come off of my tongue. He’s out of breath.

“I love when you do that. Fuck, I love when you do that.” He repeats himself a lot after he comes. It’s pretty funny, actually, and kinda cute.

“I love it, too. I love it, too.” He smacks me on the butt, and then kisses me.

“Oh, you’re so going to get it, Justin. So going to get it.” I start laughing.

“How long have I got?” He acts like he didn’t hear me. “Brian, how long have I got?” He busts out laughing at me because I fell for that. I’m a dumb ass.

“Maybe five minutes, if that.”

Shit.

Shit.

***************************
They were rushing down that freeway,
Messed around and got lost,
They didn't care,
They were just dyin' to get off.

Brian’s really smart. Really, really smart. He knows we have to do things in a certain order. He knows that if we don’t, I’ll be way too far gone to be the good boy he wants me to be.

He gives me seven minutes. Seven minutes before he starts to sit up, before he starts kissing me more than I'm kissing him. Seven minutes before I'm straddling him again, before his hand's on the back of my thigh pulling me against him, before he's breathing a very hot, very generous offer in my ear.

"My lap, Justin."

Part of me wants to tell him that I don't even deserve this extra attention after the way I behaved today, but he'd never listen to that. I kiss him again before I move to his right side, keeping my eyes locked on his as I lie across his lap. The sheets are cool against my face. I listen to him, to his low, soothing voice.

“You’re going to have something in your bottom tonight when I spank you, Justin.” Oh god, I know. I want it. I’ll beg.

“Please, Brian."

“You want it, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Show me you want it.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. I rub his thigh with my left hand, raise my ass the way he likes, and spread my legs. I want him to plug me. God, I want it.

“You’re not wasting any time, huh?” I shake my head.

“Do it.”

His left hand is heavy on my lower back as he starts lubing me with his fingers. I close my eyes. I love this, and he knows it. He gets me worked up on purpose. Once he plugs me, this’ll be hard and fast. It always is like this. I start fucking his hand, slowly, trying to hold back. I could do this all night, but if I don’t, the most amazing orgasm awaits me. So I won't.

“You’re quite the little slut, Justin.” I open my eyes for a second and cut my eyes at him. Like he didn’t make me this way.

“I am not.”

He’s spreading me apart, making me moan, his hot breath warming my hole before he starts to push the butt plug inside me. I feel my body taking it because I want to take it and because he wants me to take it. I moan like crazy. I can’t fucking help it.

“Oh, yes, you are. Just look how your little ass begs for this thing. Just begs.” God, this feels so good, and not just this, but him doing this to me.

“More.” Oh god, I am a slut. And I like it. And I don’t care. “More, Brian.”

“Take it, Justin." He pushes harder, telling me he loves watching my hole like this. "I want you plugged when I spank you and red and burning when I fuck your wet, little asshole. Open up."

It’s all the way in. I can tell because of his hands. Warm, flat against my ass and the other on my cock, his finger running around the rings. He’s teasing my slit. Oh god.

“Hard and fast, Justin. You're gonna take this hard and fast." I’m whimpering, and he hasn’t even done anything. “Did you hear me?”

He knows I heard him.

“Yes.”

“Good boy.”

My eyes slam shut when I feel his hand first make contact with my ass, and his free hand finds mine immediately. The muscles in my neck and shoulders tense as I hold my breath and keep my bottom where he wants it. He likes that. He can tell I'm trying to stay on my knees, makes him so hard. My breath hitches over and over and over, and I feel like I have to keep licking my lips, or I just want to or something. I need something in my mouth. I need something everywhere, in my mouth, my ass, everywhere. I want him to fill me. He teases my lips with his finger, but won't let me have it.

"Uh, uh, Brian. Please."

"No."

And I know I'm wet. I'm so fucking wet; I'm starting to drip on his legs.

"I want to hear you, Justin. Moan."

I do. He takes his hand away from my mouth and starts stroking himself slowly. I reach for his leg again, my fingers slipping on my own offering on his legs. I rub his thigh, watching his hand slowly pleasuring himself while he keeps spanking me, again and again.

"You like to watch me, Justin?"

"Yes."

"Like to see how hard I get when you're across my lap, when you do what you're supposed to do for me?"

"Yes."

"You want something in your mouth?"

"Yes, please."

His cock beads in his hand and he wipes it off with his thumb and puts it my mouth. Then he reaches for mine and does the same thing. I whine when he takes his hand away. He pops me hard. He pretends he doesn't like that.

The plug bumps inside me as he spanks me, making every stinging slap feel incredibly like an orgasmic near-miss, the pressure building in my ringed cock. I start to pant. He backs off after several strikes on my ass, and starts on the back of my thighs and then in between my legs. I want to tell him that I love this, that I love him, that I love how he knows how to take me right to the edge and not a fraction of an inch farther, but I can barely speak. I can tell by the look on his face that he's proud of me, that I did a good job for him tonight. He'll reward me for that. Don't know how or when, but he will. He always does.

He stops for a second, and I think that maybe we’re through, so I open my eyes, and he’s smiling at me, running his fingers through my hair. I didn’t even know he let go of my hand.

“You okay?” I nod. He presses on the butt plug, pushing it further inside me. I moan. “Almost done.”

“Brian, I want you to fuck me.”

“I know.”

He squeezes my hand before he starts this time, so I know what to expect—a very sharp, very intense spanking that leaves my bottom hot, red, and burning—just the way he wants it. And that's what I get. He slides his hands underneath me when it's over and rolls me over onto my back, his body heavy on top of mine, his voice seeped with lust. My tears are hot on my face. They burn. His fingers are as hot as my ass.

"Brian, please, just fuck me. Oh god, please."

I look through my blurry eyes as he kisses me and then practically scream as he starts moving down my body, my head thrashing on the sheets where he left me alone. I can feel the heat from his fingers running underneath the edge of the plug as his tongue starts licking my balls. My eyes roll back in my head.

"Brian, stop. God, stop."

He taunts me, taking my cock in his mouth and sucking on me hard. I slam my feet into the mattress and arch into his face. He pulls off fast, so roughly it almost hurts, making me gasp and starts sucking on my inner thigh. I yank on his hair, out of breath.

"Stop, stop, please. Just please fuck me, please." It comes out like a sob. He looks up at me, his dark eyes underneath his dark eyelashes. He's so fucking beautiful.

"You need me to fuck you?" His voice scrapes me.

"Please."

He gives me the most predatory smile I've ever seen on his face as he slithers back up my body. I swear to god I'm going to faint. His fingers are under the edge of the plug again, tugging. He wants it out.

“Relax, Justin, let me have it. Let it go.”

He praises me when he slides it out. He’s sheathed and inside me seconds later, propping my legs on his shoulders. I’m pretty much useless, not much help. His lips trail down my wet face as he fucks me. His arms are tight around me.

“You’re amazing, Justin. You feel fucking amazing.”

I can’t believe what he does to me. It makes me want to scream, to turn myself inside out; it feels so good. So intense. So—

“Did you like that, Justin?” I can feel his stubble against my neck, his long fingers in my hair.

“Yes, oh god, yes. Fuck me." I can’t hold on to him tight enough. I just can’t.

“Wanted me to remind you where you belong—" He's so hard, so hot, so everywhere inside me.

“Yes. Do it."

“Who you belong to?” He’s pulling my hair.

“Uh, Brian.”

“That you’re mine, every bit of you—" Oh god, this is it. “Your lips, your wet, little mouth, your fingers, your cock, and this tight, hot bottom of yours—"

“Oh fuck, Brian. Please—"

“That it’s all mine.”

I start clinging to him tighter and tighter as I feel the pressure building inside me. Every single pore of my body is going to come, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing I want to do about it. I can’t stop it, this loud, rushing, runaway train that’s totally out of control.

“Brian, I’m going to come all over everything.” He laughs at that, looking down at my ringed cock.

“Go ahead, I’ve got you. I’ve got every bit of you.”

I start to come, which is usually followed by a bunch of gibberish coming out of me, and tonight is no exception. It’s probably not helping that I’m getting on a plane in the morning, although he's managed to make me forget that for almost an hour.

“Oh god. I’m sorry. I tried to wait. I couldn’t. I tried. I love you. Oh god. Oh please. Oh god. Oh shit.”

He doesn’t really say anything until he comes which is maybe a minute later. I almost have to cover my ear he groans so loud, or maybe my ears are just really sensitive after I come. I don’t know anymore, nothing really makes much sense after I come.

“I love you, too, Justin. I fucking love you, too.”

Oh god. That was the reward.