*********

Chapter 27 - PC Jealousy?

Brian got out of the car and walked up the brickwork path towards the front door of the remodeled victorian home that served as the abode of the Munchers Plus One. He screwed his courage up before ringing the doorbell then stepped back to wait and see if he’d be allowed entry. When he heard steps approaching the door from inside, he held the stuffed bear dressed in leather chaps, a leather vest and a muir cap out in front of him as a sort of shield. Nobody could be mean to someone bearing gay-themed stuffed animals, right?

It seemed to work. The tall blonde woman who opened the door greeted him with a glowing smile of welcome.

“Brian! Is that for Gus? That’s so sweet. Come in. Come in!” Lindsey swept him in and immediately enveloped him in a Chanel-scented hug. “It’s about time you got over here to see your son.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure I was welcome,” Brian replied with more than a hint of reproach.

“Of course YOU’RE always welcome, Brian,” Lindsey advised, her tone making it sound like Brian was a little slow on the uptake if he didn’t understand why. “Even though Mel and I are Gus’ primary parents, we want you to always be a part of his life. All the literature says that’s the healthiest way to raise a child. The more parental involvement the better especially where non-traditional families are concerned.”

As she continued to lecture him, Lindsey towed Brian after her into the living room. The baby’s bassinet was set up right in the middle of the coffee table as if their child was the centerpiece. Brian noted that the house was not in its usual spotless condition and the young mother seemed a tad bit frazzled. Guess Lindsey was learning fast about that part where the baby doesn’t sleep much. Oh well, she was the one that wanted kids, right?

“Doesn’t he look sweet when he’s asleep?” Lindsey beamed down at her son with maternal pride. “Whenever I look at him when he’s asleep I just want to pick him up and hug him. But, then, when he’s awake and screaming, I just want him to go back to sleep.” She laughed quietly at herself for being such a sentimental, doting parent.

“I can go if you want so Gus can sleep,” Brian offered, already turning back towards the door.

“No. No, Brian. You haven’t had a chance to spend much time with him yet. Of course you can go ahead and pick him up.” Lindsey took the Leather Bear so that Brian’s hands were free and then waved him towards the sleeping infant.

“Hey there, Sonny Boy,” Brian murmured as he reached in, cradled the baby in his hands and lifted him out of the small wicker bed. “Hey, you look bigger to me already, little man. Have you been growing up without your old man’s permission?”

Brian carefully sat in the nearby armchair, holding the baby in his hands and gazing down on the wonder that is a child. He was still in awe of the fact that he was a father - something he'd never planned on - not to mention how perfect his son turned out to be. Lindsey sat nearby, glowing with affection while she admired the beauty of father and son together, and chattering animatedly. It was an idyllic moment.

“This is nice, Brian. You really should come by and do this more often. Gus needs his Daddy Time and I enjoy my Friend Time too,” Lindsey said after about twenty minutes of peacefulness.

“I'll stop in when I can, Lindz, but I'm crazy busy these days. If you can believe it, I've only been out to Woody's twice in the past couple of weeks and I've only made it to the club once since I got Justin,” Brian explained.

“See? He's already causing you problems and you've only had him two weeks,” Lindsey complained, her rosy expression turning instantly sour at the first mention of the PC’s name. “Is his ass really worth all the trouble? It's not like you’ve ever had difficulty finding plenty of guys to fuck. I just do NOT see why you felt the need to go out and buy yourself a whore.”

“Justin is not a whore Lindsey . . .” Brian started to argue, but before he could get any further she cut him off, more than ready to argue the issue.

“Bullshit! That's all Personal Companions are - legalized prostitutes. The name might sound classier, but underneath it all, they're the same thing,” she spat venomously. “Anyone who would choose to be nothing but a sex toy for another's pleasure is a whore in my book. Which is why I just don't get why YOU of all people would buy a PC. You're too good for that shit, Brian. It's tawdry, demeaning, and, in your case, totally unnecessary.” Lindsey was getting more and more upset as she spoke, convincing herself, if no one else, with the vehemence of her arguments. “You know, Brian, I heard the guys talking and they said you were actually struggling to pay off the PC’s contract, which just goes to show what a truly bad idea this whole thing is. Buying a PC is bad enough, but going seriously into debt for some cheap blond boy ass that you could get for free is ridiculous. Why don't you just cut your losses, return him and be done with it?”

“I can't do that, Lindz.” Brian felt like screaming at her, but held back and resolved to try and talk to his old friend one last time. “If I don't come up with the rest of the money for Justin's contract then he goes back to the guy I was trying to save him from in the first place. The same guy who was bragging about how he was going to RAPE the kid as soon as he got Justin home.”

“You can't rape a PC. It's not legally possible,” Lindsey replied coldly.

“That’s bullshit and you know it! That’s no better than saying that someone can’t be raped by their spouse. You KNOW that’s not true, Lindsey, and I can’t believe you would even say shit like that.” Brian got up and went to put the baby back in his bed, ready to storm out of the house and leave.

“Fine. Whatever. But why does this matter to YOU, Brian?” Lindsey stood up too and stepped in front of Brian so he couldn’t leave. “You’re the last person who I’d expect to get involved in someone else’s business. You don’t know this boy. You don’t owe him anything. Why would you go into debt, alienate your friends and family, all for some vulgar little PC?”

“I do know him, Lindz. You’re the one who hasn’t taken the time to get to know Justin. If you did, you’d see that he’s just an innocent fucking kid who doesn’t deserve the shit-storm of his life,” Brian insisted, yelling down into Lindsey’s face now and refusing to stay silent just to preserve some semblance of peace. “Justin did NOT choose this for himself, Lindsey. He was contracted out by his father while he was still in the hospital after being bashed in the fucking head with a baseball bat! And I’m not sure how you come up with the idea that a seventeen year old virgin is a whore! But, regardless of what you think of him or PCs in general, I’m not going to just abandon him to some monster that thinks gang rape is a fun party activity. I don’t care how much it costs - it’s only fucking money.”

Brian pushed his way past Lindsey, knocking her a bit roughly to the side but not really caring anymore, still yelling over his shoulder as he marched towards the door. “What I DO care about is that anyone I ever called a friend might be so fucking bigoted that she can’t look beyond someone’s title to see the real person behind it. If anyone around here sounds ‘vulgar’ or ‘cheap’, it’s you, Lindsey.” Brian wrenched open the door, not stopping even though the argument had now woken Gus, who was wailing from inside the bassinet. “So, fuck you and the high horse you rode in on. I’ll take my piece of trash, whore of a PC over an intractable, unreasoning bigot any fucking day of the week.”

He slammed the door behind him and stormed off towards his car, hoping that he could rid himself of this fury before he returned home to the boy who would be most harmed by Lindsey’s brand of prejudice.

********

Luckily, Brian managed to burn off most of his anger at Lindsey during the two hours he spent working out at the gym. By the time he took the young Asian kickboxer he’d found in the weight lifting area for a quick fuck in the steam room, he was feeling almost back to normal. It helped matters quite a bit, actually, that he was finally getting a little bit of good, clean, sexual release. He really did have to get out more than he had been over the past couple of weeks. These had been the slowest two weeks of his sex life since Brian had graduated from High School. He decided then and there, things just could not go on like that.

When Brian came through the door of the loft, he was greeted almost immediately by a bouncing, happy, paint-spattered blond boy, which went even further to amend his previously bad mood. Justin sprung up to him, grabbed the older man’s wrist and literally towed him over to the corner where there was a myriad of creativity to be admired. The overt enthusiasm the boy exhibited couldn’t have been masked if he’d tried. It was infectious. Brian found himself smiling almost as broadly as Justin while he looked over the boy’s art.

While he waited for Brian to look over what he’d done, the boy stood there, jiggling in place with a nervous pride. He’d been painting almost non-stop since they got through with Dr. Ruby the day before. He’d spent most of Friday working on a series of watercolors and pastel watercolors. He’d been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed the time until Brian forced him to stop for the night after Justin had dropped his paintbrush for the third time due to his hand cramping up. Brian had chastised him the entire time he was massaging the aching arm, warning that if Justin overdid it too much, he’d take the fucking paints away again. Justin didn’t think he meant it - Brian had issued his warning with a teasing smile - but the boy quickly agreed not to push it that far again anyway, wary of abusing his benefactor’s good will.

The boy had begged off going with Brian to the Diner and the gym that Saturday, indicating that he would prefer to stay and paint some more. Brian had indulged him, even though he did think the kid needed to get out of the fucking loft a little more often in the future. He didn’t have the heart to insist on it that morning, though. Not after he saw the wistful way Justin looked at the easel where he’d just set up a small canvas and a few tubes of oil paints. So, with a kiss goodbye, he’d left the boy to his oils for the day.

It looked like he’d made excellent use of them too. Next to the many watercolors and pastel watercolors from the day before, Brian now found all three pre-stretched canvases he’d brought home on Thursday. They were still not dry, so Brian hesitated to touch them too much, but from what he could see already, they were amazing works of abstract expressionism with a twist of angsty teenaged twink PC thrown in for good measure. The colors were mostly subdued, although there were a lot of streaks of blood red running through them as well. Each and every one evoked a sense of dread and anticipation of fearful unknowns in Brian. He wasn't sure he liked them much because of the dark theme, but he knew they were brilliant nonetheless. If Bloom had admired those relatively simplistic drawings he’d seen the other day, he was going to go gaga over these.

“Wow . . . You have been one busy boy today, Sunshine,” Brian teased, laying his hands on the boy’s shoulders and pressing downward to staunch the excited bouncing. “It’s not bad. Not bad at all,” he praised in his typically understated way.

Justin’s already huge grin widened so far that Brian was worried his face might split in two.

“We’ll have to get you a lot more fucking canvases if you’re going to produce at this rate. And more paint, too. Damn, Sunshine, it looks like tomorrow will involve a trip to the closest art supply store.”

The ecstatic little artiste let out a happy squeal and catapulted himself into Brian’s arms. Apparently, Brian was happy to note, Justin liked art supply stores. He was even happier to note that the boy was spiritedly depositing kisses all over Brian’s face in his frenzy of artistic glee. So Brian happily kissed him back, sliding his arms around the boy’s waist and pulling the smaller body tightly against his own.

The kissing quickly progressed beyond the lighthearted friendly stage. The tentative pecks turned into wet, open-mouthed kisses with the boy’s sweet pink tongue venturing out for tastes every so often. Brian let his young protege experiment, allowing the nibbling at his lips, the shy tongue swipes and even the occasional awkward clash of teeth, and vigorously returning all the youth’s efforts. Before long the heat generated by these enthusiastic yet playful kisses started to build, resulting in some interesting developments lower down where their groins were mashed together.

Yep, Brian thoroughly approved of happy artistic Justin.

********

Was he really standing there making out with the Master? The boy couldn't believe his own audacity . . . He was just so happy.

Happy?

That thought caused him to pause for a moment. He pulled back from the man he'd been wantonly kissing and looked up into the grinning hazel eyes. Brian was beaming down at him with pride. It was true - he WAS proud of the boy, you could see it. He'd also praised the new paintings. He'd even proposed that they could go get more supplies so the boy could paint more. And he'd called him ‘Sunshine’ again. Which, right that moment, felt perfectly apropos, because the boy felt shiny and bright and . . . Yes, happy.

He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd felt truly happy. Definitely not since before he'd been contracted out. For the past year and a half, the boy hadn't experienced so much as one single second of happiness. Which is likely why this instance felt so oddly surreal. Was he allowed to be happy? Did he even remember HOW to be happy?

“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian leaned down so that their foreheads were touching, still smiling while he huffed a tiny laugh. “Stop thinking so hard. Just let yourself enjoy the moment and celebrate. You done good here, Brat!” He punctuated his words with a playful kiss to the boy’s nose and another chuckle.

The boy let the smile return to his lips. He HAD done good. And, against all odds, he DID actually feel happy. In fact, there was ‘happy’ bubbling up all over the place right then, so the boy decided to just let it happen. It would probably all come crashing down on him again tomorrow, but for this one moment, he was going to go with the happy thing and forget his fears.

So the boy resumed with the happy kisses once again. He kissed Brian's beautiful raspberry-red lips, sucking on the lower one with a moan because it felt so good and he was allowing himself to feel good. He kissed the strong jaw. He bit at the sculpted chin. He nibbled down the long neck and licked the prominent Adam's apple. And he breathed in the musky maleness of Brian's body.

It was heady stuff. Maybe all that happy driving him on was making him crazy, but the boy didn't want to stop. It felt so good. When Brian's hands molded themselves to the boy’s ass and pulled him in even closer, the youth heard himself moan again. He could feel the older man’s cock through their clothing, pressing into his stomach. His own dick was just as hard. Without letting go of the lips he was kissing once again, the boy shifted a little to the right until he was basically straddling Brian's leg, allowing him to rut against a more solid piece of anatomy.

After that the boy forgot to think about anything else. He just let the happy, Sunshine feelings take over. He was too busy rubbing his cock against the solidity of Brian's thigh, snaking his hands up under Brian's shirt to slide over warm skin, kissing and biting at lips that were just as hungrily caressing him back, and breathing in the heady, pheromone-laden aroma enveloping them to remember anything else. The boy wasn't even sure if the mewls and gasps of pleasure were from him or the man he was seemingly trying to eat alive. It really didn't matter though. All that mattered was how wonderful the boy felt right then. How ridiculously happy he was.

“Oh, fuck, Sunshine,” Brian sighed, gripping the boy’s butt cheeks with both hands and thrusting hard against the boy’s smaller frame.

“Yes. Brian. Yes,” he whispered back with a groan of repletion as the happy erupted out of the core of his being and Sunshine came in his pants.

Thankfully, Brian was holding him up, because otherwise the boy would have collapsed into a puddle at the man's feet after that. All the boy could do was hang on to the broad shoulders, shudder and try to remember how to breathe. Brian seemed to be breathing pretty heavily himself. When the boy finally began to regain the ability to stand on his own, he let Brian pull away a bit.

“Shit, Sunshine. Look what you've done to me,” the big man chuckled, looking down between their bodies. Sure enough, there was a matching wet spot on the front of Brian's jeans. “Damn. I haven’t come in my fucking pants since I was a teenager. You’re a menace to my clothing.”

For five seconds the boy was afraid that Brian was seriously upset. His body tensed up and his breath caught. But then he felt the arms still wrapped around his body hug him tighter and he looked up to find Brian smiling down at him.  

“I was joking, twat!” Brian reassured with another chuckle. “Come on and let’s get cleaned up. Then we have to celebrate - you can order whatever you want for dinner. Thai, Chinese, Filet Mignon?” Brian suggested as he grabbed the younger man’s hand and started to lead him towards the shower. “What’s your favorite meal, Sunshine?”

At first the boy wasn’t going to answer. He was just going to hold his tongue like always and keep his head down. But then he remembered he was now ‘Sunshine’ and Sunshine was a ‘brave little fucker’. Sunshine would answer even if he was unsure whether or not Brian would agree to his choice. So he decided to try it and see what would happen.

“Pizza . . . and ice cream,” the boy said, his voice hushed and questioning even though he was trying to be brave.

“Pizza? I offer you steak and you want pizza?” Brian laughed, pulling the boy closer for yet another kiss. “You really are a teenager, aren’t you? Fine. We’ll have pizza, Sunshine. But then you’ll have to agree to go out to Babylon with me tonight and help me dance off all those fucking calories.”

Brian let the boy go and started to shuck his clothing, tossing the soiled pants into the clothing hamper with a shake of his head. He’d already started the water running in the shower before he looked back and realized that the boy hadn’t followed his example. The boy was still standing there, fully clothed, his head down and a worried frown on his face.

“Sunshine . . .” Brian came back over and cupped the younger man’s face with both hands. “It’ll be fun. I know you don’t like crowds but you can’t stay hidden here in the loft forever. There’s a huge, exciting world out there and you need to get used to being a part of it.” Brian bent and rubbed his nose against the boy’s in a silly, affectionate gesture that elicited a little smile. “The gang will be there - you won’t be alone. You’ll have a few drinks, we can dance, celebrate your paintings, you’ll get to socialize with real people . . .” Brian pulled the boy’s shirt off over his head and then reached down to unbutton his pants. “I really want you to at least try this, Justin. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here. Or that you aren’t allowed to go out and have a real life just like anyone else. Okay?”

The boy wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he did want to to be brave and make Brian proud. It felt good to have someone be proud of him. And he also wanted to keep enjoying the happy so, after thinking about it, he nodded guardedly. He would try to do this. He would try to be that brave little Sunshine that Brian wanted.

“Good boy,” Brian kissed him again and then towed him into the shower.

A few hours later - after the boy had consumed two-thirds of a large pizza, half a cesar salad, and a pint of ice cream, while they watched one of Brian’s old black and white movies - the two of them ambled up to the front doors of Babylon. As predicted, Michael, Ted and Emmett were waiting for them.  The boy allowed himself to be hugged and kissed hello by all the Master’s friends and tried not to be too nervous. It wasn’t easy though. Even out here on the street you could hear the loud music that was booming through the walls of the club. And the line of people was already halfway down the block even though it was barely ten.

Brian put his arm around the boy’s shoulders protectively and, with the young artist by his side, he led the group towards the door, not bothering with the line at all. They made it past the bouncer who just nodded at the familiar faces. That was as expected. However, at the desk inside, the guy that collected the money for the door charge held them up.

“Sorry, Kinney. There’s an extra fee for PCs. He can’t come as your guest. He has to have his own membership. Management rules,” Hector, the usual front man, instructed.

“What the fuck? Why?” Brian complained.

“Sorry, man, but the owners don’t want the place becoming a PC sex club,” Hector explained with an unconcerned shrug.

“Fine. Whatever,” Brian sighed and handed over his credit card so the guy could charge him for a membership. When the credit card slip was handed over for him to sign, though, he did a double take. “Why the hell does this say $500? That’s more than three times the regular membership rate.”

“That’s the PC rate, Kinney.” The guy pointed over his shoulder to a small plaque on the wall that did, indeed, list a ‘PC Membership’ price of $500.

Brian grumbled under his breath but knew there wasn’t any getting around it. He signed the damned credit card slip, grabbed the proffered membership card and added it to his own in his wallet, before dragging the boy away from Hector with a departing glare. The boy followed meekly. He didn’t really want to be there, and would have gladly offered to save the Master the membership fee, only he didn’t want to make things worse by speaking up.

Once they were in the club, it was just as loud and boisterous as the boy had expected. There were so many people and it was hot and the lights were either too dark to see by or blindingly bright. He huddled as close to the Master’s side as he could get. The group made their way to the bar and ordered drinks. The Master got the boy a beer, but he only just barely sipped at it, since he was too anxious about the scene going on around him. The friends all talked and joked for a few minutes while they too enjoyed their drinks. This, at least, didn’t feel that scarey to the boy, so, despite all the noise and the people, he gradually started to relax just a little bit.

After the Master’s second shot, he tugged the boy out to the dance floor with him. “Time to show me if you can dance or not, Sunshine,” Brian purred in his ear once they had claimed a relatively open spot on the flashing neon floor. “That’s what I’m talking about. See? Dancing is good, right?” the big man said as he draped his long arms over the boy’s shoulders, pulled their lower halves close and began to sway to the beat of the music.

The boy remembered how much he used to love dancing. It was another of those things he’d thought he’d lost along with his freedom. But the Master was giving this back to him now too. He decided not to fight it and instead let himself be swept up by the pounding beat and the feel of Brian’s arms around him. And it was good. Really good. They danced for three or four songs, usually swaying along about half the tempo of whatever song was playing but not really caring that they were doing their own thing. The boy had to admit, it WAS fun. It was a happy thing to do.

“Hey, Em!” The Master called his friend over after pulling away from the boy. “I’ve got to take a piss. Dance with Justin while I’m gone. Do NOT leave him alone in here, okay? He’s still not great with crowds.”

“No problem, Brian. I’d love to dance with Baby!” Emmett shook his ass closer to the boy and winked at him as he took up the Master’s place. “So, how do you like Babylon? It’s great, isn’t it?”

The boy merely nodded and watched the Master over the friend’s shoulder as the man wound his way through the crowd. Emmett seemed nice enough, and he was a pretty great dancer. Instead of the slow swaying he’d been doing with the Master, they both began to bop around and the dancing got a lot more energetic. It was great. But, after the song ended and the Master still hadn’t returned, the boy started to get a little bit worried. By the end of the second song, he was ready to stop dancing, too nervous to really enjoy himself anymore. He mutely tugged on the friend’s arm and pointed back over to the bar where Ted and Michael could still be seen waiting for the rest of the group. Emmett nodded and led the way through the throngs of people with the boy following closely on his heels.

Ted ordered the boy a bottle of water when they got to the bar. The gang stood around talking and drinking, not at all concerned about where their more lubricious friend might be. The boy wasn’t so sanguine though. He didn’t like this development at all. He had a sinking feeling in his gut. The Master had been gone far too long. Something must be wrong.

However, just when he was about to demand that the friends help him find the missing man, the Master sauntered back. He looked relaxed and smiled around at his friends smugly before waving the bartender over for another drink. The friends didn’t seem to think it was at all odd that the Master had just disappeared for over a half hour - nobody even commented on it at all.

The boy didn’t like it though. And, when the Master came up behind the boy, curling his arms around the slender waist, he really didn’t like it that the older man smelled like sweat and sex. But he didn’t say anything. That wasn’t a PC's place. Besides, he still didn’t understand why the fact that the Master had gone off to have sex with someone else was bothering him. It really shouldn’t matter. But, for some reason, it seemed to take a little of the happy out of the night. The rest of the time they were standing there, the Master chatting with the friends and everyone drinking together, the boy simply stood there, waiting, refusing any more beers and hoping they would be going back to the loft soon.

Before long, a big, beefy, dark haired man came up to the group, his shirt tucked into the back of his belt and his bulging pecs and washboard abs evidencing the many hours he spent in the gym. He bumped shoulders with the Master and winked boldly. The boy watched his Master’s face widen into a sexy smirk. The beefy queen tipped his head in the direction of a darkened hallway that led off the end of the bar. The Master nodded and dropped his hand from where it had been resting on the boy’s shoulder.

“Michael!” the Master yelled over the roar of the music and the crowd, making sure he caught his friend’s eye. “Watch Justin. I’ll be right back.” And then he was gone, strutting after the beefy skank as they disappeared down the hallway.

Michael almost immediately returned to the conversation he’d been engaged in with some hulking, sandy-haired stud wearing attractive wire-rimmed glasses. The boy overheard parts of the conversation - something about comic books and gay characters. He wasn’t at all interested in that particular topic. When a new song came on just a minute or two later, Emmett squealed, jumped up and down and clapped his hands wildly, declaring this was his ‘favorite song ever’. He promptly bounced away, pulling Ted with him as his dance partner.

Which left the boy standing there. Alone. Unprotected and confused amid all the noise and the hordes of strangers. All of whom, he imagined, were staring at him and the undisguisable tattoo on the back of his neck. He felt singled out. A target. Fair game for anything or anyone. He hated that crawling feeling of eyes on him. He hated not knowing where the Master was. He hated that the Master had once again chosen someone other than him.

Well, fuck it! He was not going to just stand there waiting around. He was going to be Sunshine. He was going to be brave. He would go find the Master and refuse to be left behind, alone with the ravening masses.

He pushed away from the bar and walked decisively down the dark hallway. There were no lights in the hall itself. The only light at all was a muted, bluish glow coming from the room at the far end. The walls were bare concrete, painted black. The air back here was thick and smoky and it smelled of sweaty, sex-drenched men. Sunshine didn’t let it deter him, though. He pressed on, dodging past random couples making out in the hallway as if they just couldn’t make it as far as the room.

When the boy emerged into the relatively brighter expanse of the back room, he was almost ready to immediately turn around and retreat. There were men everywhere - grouped in couples, threesomes, or more - all engaged in sexual acts, their bodies writhing and the air full of their groans and moans. It was so dark that it was hard to avoid bumping into someone. Plus, back here in the dark, the men that were previously just ogling him from afar, seemed to feel they had an open invitation to come up and touch him, grope him, anything they liked. He batted the hands away, but they kept coming back again.

Right before he was going to bolt, the boy saw the Master backed up against a wall at the far end of the room. The boy quickly trotted over towards him, stopping at his side and glaring down at the beefy trick who was on his knees at the Master’s feet, slobbering away at Brian's cock.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Brian said when he opened his eyes and found the PC standing next to him. “Problems? Or did you just want to come watch again?” The man smiled over at him, his right hand tangled in the hair of the man at his crotch, while he lazily lifted up his left hand and brushed the knuckles across the boy’s cheek.

The boy looked at Brian. He looked at the incompetent trick. He asked himself, what DID he want? He definitely didn't want this.

That's when the boy found himself unexpectedly overwhelmed by a sudden surge of undiluted rage. Not just anger, but absolute RAGE. It was as if all those months and months of fear and self-doubt and hurt had been instantly transmogrified into a towering wall of unquenchable anger.

“NO!” Sunshine yelled.

Then, without any warning at all, the formerly meek little blond boy stepped forward, viciously backhanded the trick across the side of his face and knocked him flat on his ass. Kicking him out of the way for good measure, the boy dropped to his own knees. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the trick’s slobber, grabbed hold of Brian’s dick with his hand and shoved it into his mouth.

********

Brian, who had let out a yelp of pain when the trick had been so unceremoniously knocked away, sighed with renewed pleasure as the boy’s mouth embraced him. He had to give it to the kid - he was good. Very good.

The scorned trick was still sitting there whingeing and holding his face, but Brian didn’t really miss him at all. How could he when Justin was so excellent at this? Those lips. The tongue work. The way he hollowed out his cheeks, sucked hard and then hummed at the same time. It was exquisite. He vaguely thought that maybe he should try and stop the boy - tell the kid that he didn’t need to do this, that Brian didn’t expect this of him - but there was already too much blood rushing to his dick and away from his brain to enable him to formulate words. The best he could come up with was the occasional moan of appreciation.

Less than five minutes later, Brian was shooting his load as the boy deep throated him one last time. “Fuuuuuuck, Sunshine!” He hollered, not even minding that he was in the back room where it wasn’t exactly polite etiquette to be quite that vocal. To hell with that. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he could remain standing, as the orgasm drained him so perfectly that his knees didn’t seem capable of supporting him any longer. If there was only a clean horizontal surface, he’d be on it right now.

Meanwhile, the boy politely licked up the last drop of cum, tucked Brian gently back into his pants and zipped him up. He remained on his knees, his head bowed patiently, waiting for Brian’s instructions. Gone was the self-assured assertiveness. It was replaced by the subservient demeanor that Brian was more used to seeing from the boy.

Too bad. He found he rather liked the strong-willed, kick-ass kid. And he hoped that this was a sign that he’d be seeing that boy a lot more often in the coming days.