Chapter 9 - Lustful Longings?

Friday, November 29: The alarm went off at 7:00 am on the dot. Justin rolled over without opening his eyes and pulled his head under the blankets with a loud groan. Miraculously, the alarm stopped blaring, causing Justin to sigh in relief and then snuggle back down deeper into the pleasant warmth of the bed. It was even more pleasant a moment later when two strong arms wrapped themselves around Justin and protectively pulled his body closer to a broad, warm chest. Justin luxuriated in the feeling for several minutes while his mind drifted back to full consciousness.

That was when he realized that something just wasn't right with this situation. Justin wasn't completely sure who these strong arms and the nice warm chest belonged to. But, if they belonged to the person he suspected owned them, then Justin really, really wasn't sure what HE was doing in bed with them.

He carefully allowed one eyelid to open up the tiniest bit. It was far too bright outside his eyelids though, and even that small amount of light stabbed into Justin's skull causing his throbbing headache to intensify exponentially. He couldn't hold back a small grunt of pain. In response to the sound, the strong arms squeezed him a little more tightly, bringing more of the body that went along with the broad chest into direct contact with his own. It seemed fortuitous that the arms and chest came with two long legs that twined themselves with his own and a large and even warmer something that seemed to be pressing into Justin's stomach. Then a pleasurable low 'mmmmm' came out of the nice warm chest and the length of hotness down below was pressed into Justin's stomach a little harder. Justin turned his head so that the one eye he'd managed to peel open was pointing in the direction from which all the nice warm feelings were coming.

"B-B-Brian?" Justin acknowledged the man he discovered was attached to the strong arms, the warm chest, the long legs and the hot something pressing into his stomach. "How . . . how did I get here?"

"You stumbled in a couple of hours ago, Sunshine, complaining that Daphne snored too loud. Then you got in bed with me and started snoring yourself like a fucking steam engine," Brian answered with a little chuckle and then squeezed Justin closer again, causing that hard length of hotness between them to twitch a little in pleasure.

Justin sucked in a big gulp of air and pressed his own respectable length of hard hotness back against Brian's hip. "Brian," the youth moaned between panting breaths. Justin closed his eye again and simply revelled in the intense feelings rolling through him.

"Aaarrrghhhh! Justin, please just kill me now before my head explodes!" Daphne tottered into the room, complaining loudly, and then threw herself across the bed with a dramatic moan.

Almost instantly those nice hot spots between the two men's lower parts started to cool. Daphne proceeded to crawl her way up the bed and then insinuate herself between Brian and Justin, laying her head against her long-time friend's chest. Brian quickly disentangled himself and rolled further away from where Daphne was now fixed onto Justin like a limpet.

"I couldn't find your aspirin," Daphne continued to whine. "There were all these bottles and jars of shit but no fucking aspirin. Why did you hide the aspirin, Justin? God, I feel like shit!"

"I'll get you the aspirin, Princess," Brian promised and rolled out of the bed.

Justin and Daphne both watched Brian's hot ass as it jiggled along sexily out the door.

"Nice!" Daphne commented, enjoying her first glimpse of the whole Brian Kinney.

"Yes. He is nice. And he might have been busy being even nicer if you hadn't come barging in here like a complete drama queen, Daph," Justin hissed at her angrily.

"Seriously?" Daph gaped at him and looked like she was about to launch into a full fangirl squee, but Justin slapped his hand across her mouth right as Brian's footsteps reached the door.

"Here you go, lightweight!" Brian said and tossed the bottle of pain meds to Daphne, then turned to the closet and pulled on a pair of jeans. "FYI, it's on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet from now on, Princess."

"I am NOT a lightweight!" Daphne was outraged. "I drank just as much as both of you last night."

"Yeah, but you're the only one rolling around and crying like a little girl," Brian teased. "Now, hurry and go get dressed, kiddies. If you're fast like a little bunny I'll take us all out to breakfast before Sunshine has to be off to work. Go on. Shoo!"

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Saturday, November 30:  Justin and Daphne were sitting on a park bench enjoying a rare sighting of autumn sunlight while Justin ate his lunch and Daphne grilled him endlessly about Brian.

"So he hasn't said anything since?" Daphne asked for about the tenth time.

"No, Daph. I told you. I've barely seen him since then. I worked all day Friday and by the time I got home he was already out. And then, this morning, he was still asleep when I left. So, no, he hasn't said anything about anything," Justin explained. "Besides, I don't think I really want to talk about it. I'm sure it didn't mean anything. It was an accident. We were both half asleep and hungover. It would have been a total mistake. I'm really glad you interrupted when you did."

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard, Jus," Daphne immediately called him on his self-deception. "You can't tell me you aren't attracted to Brian Kinney. I saw your face yesterday morning. I saw your eyes"

"So what? So I'm attracted to him. Who the hell wouldn't be? He's fucking drop-dead gorgeous. That doesn't mean it would be a good idea to sleep with him."

When Daphne started to protest, Justin dropped his sandwich onto the bench and then turned to look at his friend directly. "He's THAT guy Daphne. The super-hot guy you see at the bar. The one you are just dying to hook up with. But then, when you do, it's always over too fast. Then he's gone and even if you see him again someplace he'll never see you because you're old news. I know that guy already, Daph. I've been fucked by that guy before. THAT guy just left me hungry for more. I don't want Brian to end up being that guy for me. I actually like him, you know. I like him as a real person. We actually get along pretty well. But if we fucked, he'd become THAT guy, and then I'd never see BRIAN ever again."

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Brian hadn’t felt so unsure of himself since he was in high school. It was really pissing him off. Why the fuck did he feel like hiding from the little blond twink? That very concept was NOT Brian Kinney.

But, still . . . He HAD intentionally left the apartment early yesterday evening so that he wouldn’t have to see the lad when he got home from work. And even though he’d been awake for more than an hour, Brian had played possum when the boy had peeked into his room that morning before he left for the gallery. Now, Brian found himself sitting in the coffee shop down the block from his apartment, waiting until he saw the twink come home, and trying to decide when, or if, he should venture home. This was exactly why he’d never enjoyed having a roommate. Or a boyfriend. It was far too complicated.

But the longer Brian waited in the coffee shop, nursing his rapidly cooling cappuchino, the more he was forced to think about what had happened between them yesterday morning. It was uncomfortable. It made Brian feel vulnerable. He really hated it. Brian hated having to actually analyze his feelings. He hated having to feel at all. It was messy and complicated and everything he’d despised about ‘relationships’ since childhood.

But for some unfathomable reason, Brian hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that moment in his bed yesterday morning.

It had taken Brian a long time to fall asleep with the snoring twink in his bed. He wasn’t the soundest sleeper on the best of nights. He never had been. He’d been trained from a young age to sleep lightly so that, if any danger arose, he could wake up immediately and either escape or defend himself. The habit had never left him even though Brian had been living on his own - safe in his own little space - for almost half his life. He was still the consummate insomniac. He’d learned to always tire himself relentlessly with exercise, or self-medicate himself into an uncaring mass, before he headed for bed. It helped stave off the demons. So, when he’d been startled awake in the middle of an REM cycle by the whining twink, it was understandable that it had taken him a long time to get back to sleep.

Somehow he had remembered, even through his semi-drunken haze, that the twink had to be to work by 8:00 am. So Brian had set his alarm even though HE didn’t have to be awake tomorrow at any specific time. This should have been his first clue that something was very wrong, but it didn’t even faze him at the time. And, eventually succumbing to the warm, comforting sensation of having another body next to him in his bed, Brian had finally let himself drift off to sleep.

Only to be awakened by the erotic sensation of a warm, hard body pressed up against him the next morning.

Brian wasn’t exactly a morning person. He didn’t usually wake up all the way until at least his second cup of coffee. And he wasn’t used to waking up next to another man since he usually kicked every trick out as soon as he was done with them. So it was understandable that he’d been a little disoriented by waking up to a warm, nubile, hard, and eager Justin in his bed.

Brian couldn’t help the fact that he woke up pretty much every morning with an abundant quantity of wood between his thighs. He was a young, vigorous, sexually active man with very well developed needs. He could count on one hand the number of mornings he HADN’T woken up with morningwood. He figured it was irrelevant that the twink had been there - he would have been hard no matter who or what had been in his bed.

It had just been pure coincidence that Justin had rolled over right at that particular moment when Brian had been only half awake but fully hard. Brian hadn’t even consciously thought about enveloping the boy in his arms. It just happened. It was a mistake. Brian didn’t do shit like that. Really, he didn’t.

But, Brian DID have to admit that whatever had happened after that moment was more . . .

‘Fuck that!’ Brian thought, he didn’t HAVE to admit anything. So what if he’d felt some ridiculous surge of . . .  something . . . when he’d come to with the boy in his arms and pressed up against him with that fucking ridiculously large cock? Nobody that small should have a cock that fucking large. It was fucking unnatural.

Well, Brian corrected himself, it wasn’t unnatural, just . . .  nicely sized for someone of that stature.

And the little twat had felt so good in his arms, pressed up against him like that, with his cock so hot and hard and . . .

Brian scrubbed at his face with his palms and groaned. He had to get himself together. This was insane. He would not let himself do this. He simply would not let this happen.

Brian took a deep breath and mentally grabbed hold of all his resolve. He got up out of the coffee shop chair and strutted across the street towards his apartment. He could do this. He wasn’t going to cower from some fucking twink. He was Brian Kinney - No Excuses, No Regrets, No Apologies. He simply wouldn’t acknowledge the stupid sentimental emotions he’d felt while holding that annoying little twat. Fuck that! He wouldn’t let the boy chase him out of his own apartment. He shouldn’t be hiding out, afraid to face some mere boy.

Brian’s resolve was solid. He had worked through any incipient sentimentality and was beyond it’s influence. Fuck them all! He wasn’t going to cave in the face of some boy toy. Brian didn’t care about any little blond boy ass. He didn’t care . . .

Brian strode into his apartment with the intention of reestablishing his dominance and his independance.

And his steadfast resolve lasted until the moment when he sauntered confidently into his bedroom and found a dead mouse on his pillow.

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Justin felt his cell phone buzzing away in his pocket. Since the boss had left the gallery early and there were only two customers still looking at some modernist stuff in the back room, he went ahead and pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. It was a number he didn’t recognize but the area code was from Pittsburgh? That was odd. He decided that he better take it.

“Justin Taylor.”

“Your fuzzball left something dead on my fucking pillow! There’s blood and one of its legs is missing. What the fuck do I do?” Brian’s voice sounded shrill and more than a little panicky.

“Aww. That was so sweet of Winston. He left you a present. You know that means he really likes you.” Justin teased the panic stricken man.

“I don’t care if the monster adores me and wants to grow old together. What does that have to do with leaving carrion in my bed,” Brian was clearly not going to be deterred or amused. “What the fuck do I do with the dead thing, Justin?”

“Well, you could just leave it there and Winston will probably come back and eat it eventually.”

“He’ll eat it in my BED? That’s disgusting! Fuck that!” Brian sounded like he might be sick at the mere thought of such defilement of his favorite piece of furniture.

“Calm down, Brian. I was only joking,” Justin tried to sound reassuring. “Just go find a plastic bag and put the dead thing in there and then throw it in the trash.”

“I’m not touching that . . .  whatever it is. I'm not touching anything near it. In fact, I probably have to burn that pillow after this.”

“You don’t have to touch it. Use the bag to pick it up,” Justin was chuckling at the image he had of a Brian scared of his own pillow.

“This is your fault, Justin. It’s your fucking cat. You get your ass over here and fix this right NOW!” Brian demanded and then ended the call before Justin could reply.

Luckily for the terrorized Stud, the last two gallery patrons came over just then to say goodbye. Since it was only fifteen minutes to closing anyway, Justin decided to lock up and hustle home to save his beleaguered man. Twenty minutes later he rushed into the apartment to find a distraught Brian pacing outside the doorway to his bedroom, looking in every so often, shaking his head and mumbling random comments under his breath. When he saw Justin, there was so much pure relief on his face that Justin could have laughed aloud. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to further traumatize the poor man.

“What took you so fucking long,” Brian was fuming. “The fuzzball tried to get back in here a couple times but I shooed him away. I don’t want him eating that thing in my bed, Justin. What the fuck do we do?”

Justin tried to hide his smile as he went to the kitchen and rifled through the cupboard under the sink until he found a plastic shopping bag. Then, armed with all the necessary implements needed to face this trying situation, the young man bravely returned and stepped through the door prepared to face armageddon. Except armageddon turned out to be only a very tiny little grey mouse, minus one mangled front paw. Justin used the protective plastic bag to pick up the poor dead mouse and then tied the bag closed. He made a nice big show - for Brian’s sake - of holding the bag out away from his body as far as possible and walking very carefully as he carried the dreaded thing out of Brian’s room and out to the garbage shoot in the main hallway of the building. Brian followed behind looking nervous until the bag of mouse was officially thrown down the shoot and they were free of the terrible danger once again.

As they came back into the apartment, Winston was sitting in the doorway waiting for them. The cat was pissed off that the people had taken away his mouse. He’d been saving that for a light snack after dinner. He only left it on the New Person’s pillow to be polite. Maybe the New Person would like to share? But no. Stupid people took the treat away. See if he left that New Person any more yummy treats! Winston gave the two people the most withering kitty look he could manage and then stalked off to brood in silence.

Brian collapsed onto the couch, relieved and thoroughly exhausted after that harrowing experience. Of course, he still had to deal with the contaminated pillow, but now that the body was gone, that would be relatively easy. He sighed and let himself relax back against the couch cushions.

Justin followed the big guy over to the couch and sat down close enough to Brian to pat him on the leg. “So, Brian Kinney is afraid of mice?”

“Fuck no. I’m not afraid of anything. I just didn’t want a damned rat on my pillow. It probably had all kinds of weird rodent diseases and it was bleeding and shit.”

*pfft* “Brian, that was not a rat. It was the tiniest mouse I think I’ve ever seen,” Justin couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. “It was, like, smaller than my thumb. I’ve seen scarier looking bunny rabbits than that little thing. I can’t believe you made me leave work early to come and save you from the scary baby mouse.” *Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha*

“Shut up,” Brian insisted, pushing Justin away from him.

When Justin didn’t resist and simply let the impetus from the push knock him over into a laughing heap on the couch, Brian was forced to smile a little. Okay, Brian had to admit at least to himself, that he might have overreacted. A little bit. But he’d never had to deal with cats and their weird dead rodent fetishes before. It was a little freaky.

“It wasn’t THAT funny, you twat,” Brian complained when Justin was still laughing himself silly a minute or more later. “Stop laughing at me! I don’t know what to do with cats, Sunshine. Your fuzzball freaks me out, okay? Stop laughing!” Brian insisted again but then gave up when all his protestations simply caused Justin to erupt with new freshets of giggles. “Fine. You want to laugh? I’ll give you something to laugh at, you annoying little twat!”

Purely out of a need to defend his honor, and NOT because the little blond twink was being adorable or anything like that, Brian commenced tickling and poking at the wriggling, laughing boy, inciting more laughter from both the tickler and the ticklee. Justin tickled back, though, and somehow managed to find Brian’s most vulnerable spot - his armpits. The tickle war became heated and the laughing and shouting was deafening. Then, a particularly good poke in the ribs of the larger man resulted in the whole writhing mass of them falling off the couch and onto the floor where Justin managed to land smack dab on Brian’s chest.

Brian couldn’t resist. Those bright blue eyes were sparkling down at him, and the boy was bubbling with laughter. Justin’s coral pink lips were so close. Brian only had to tilt his head up to reach them with his own. So he did. And it was pretty much the most perfect kiss Brian could imagine so he just kept on kissing the soft, sweet lips which were eagerly kissing him back now. Brian’s arms, of their own volition, curled up around the smaller body lying atop his own, holding the warm compact body even closer.

Justin tasted so good. His lips were soft and warm and every time Brian’s tongue brushed across them it caused a little rippling of something electric deep in his gut. Justin’s hands were feathering tenderly through Brian’s hair. Brian could feel Justin’s hot breath against his own lips. He couldn’t help but notice the growing warmth sprouting up down lower. Brian grasped the firm young body even tighter against himself, grinding their erections together without ever letting go of the succulent lips, and rolled them over, pushing the coffee table away with their bodies, so that Justin was now effectively trapped under him. The boy didn’t protest. He just kept nipping back at Brian’s lips and sighed loudly with pleasure when Brian was firmly positioned above him.

Who knows how much longer they might have stayed that way. It was an oddly passionate and yet languorous make out session. Brian was all for kissing, but mostly because kissing usually led to groping and then on to sucking or fucking. But to just kiss and touch without it consciously serving as the prelude to something else? He’d never really done that. Now, for the first time in his life, Brian found himself content to keep on doing exactly what he was doing without rushing forward towards something more intense. It was a shockingly new thing for him and a little disconcerting.

So, when Brian’s cell phone started ringing, it actually came as a bit of a relief. He now had a good excuse to pull back from . . . whatever this was, and regroup. He left one last wet kiss on the now panting pink lips and then quickly rolled off the boy so he could sit up and reach for his phone.

“Kinney,” he answered brusquely, just like he always did.

“Hey, Brian. It’s Lindz. I’ve got a proposal for you . . .”  

While Brian was distracted with his call, Justin mentally shook himself. That had been intense and exactly what he’d been telling himself all day that he would NOT do. He tried to pull himself together and calm his breathing. He had to somehow will down his cock as well. Justin practically jumped up to his feet and kind of sprinted off to his own room, closing his door a little more energetically than he’d planned and making it seem like he was slamming the door shut. Then the confused youth leaned back against the door and slowly sank down onto his haunches.

Justin was so confused!