"Didn't I tell you to never come back here again?" Brian yelled at me over the music.

"Uh... I guess I forgot," I lied. "But you forgot to tell me that you own this place when you told me that I was to never come back here again."

"Come on, Brian," Emmett cooed as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Let the sweet little boy stay."

Brian placed his hands around Emmett's wrists and pulled his arms off of me. Without another word to Emmett, Brian put his right hand around the back of my neck and marched me to the metal staircase leading up to the second level of the club. He kept his hold on me all the way up the stairs, across a catwalk, and over to a closed door.

He let me go long enough to unlock the door and then steered me inside and over to a black leather couch pushed against one of the walls. He forced me to sit and he remained standing in front of me.

I looked around the small room, which had cream-colored carpeting and was painted red. A cherry-wood desk was adjacent to the couch on top of which sat a black computer, an open bottle of Beam, and a partially-filled glass of the brown liquid. A beautiful abstract painting hung on the wall behind the desk. I could still hear the music playing from outside the door, but it was muffled quite a bit.

"Nice office," I remarked. "It seems to be well-insulated."

Brian crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. "You're really testing my patience, Justin."

"Are you going to put me on the club's black list? If there is such a thing, I mean?"

"Yeah, we have a black list. But no, I won't put you on it. People have to do somethingreally offensive to get on that list."

"Like what?"

"Fucking in the backroom without a condom will certainly get you banned from coming back. Fucking on the dance floor or in the bathroom and then refusing to take it to the backroom will, too. It's an unspoken rule that women aren't allowed in the backroom and we recently had to ban a couple of dykes that kept sneaking back in. Hustlers know not to come around because you can get it in the backroom for free. We've had to ban a few rude newbies that hadn't gotten the message. Being rude to one of the employees will get you kicked out, but probably not banned unless you piss me off, too. Of course, getting into a fight on the property will get you banned and possibly arrested if someone gets hurt. Getting caught bringing in your own alcohol will also get you banned, because that's taking away from our drink sales which is where we really make our money."

"What about using or selling drugs?" I asked.

He laughed. "Probably half of the people that come through the doors are here to look for a score. There are three dealers who regularly do their business here without stepping on each other's toes: a drag queen named Anita who stakes out the bathroom and sells various pills and powders, minus coke; a leather daddy everyone calls ‘Hog' who exclusively deals coke in the backroom; and a little Puerto Rican dude named Enrique who sells weed and mushrooms under the stairs. Who knows how many other small-time sellers are out there, but one of the main three will usually run them off if they become competition." 

"And you're okay with all of that?"

"That's how it's always been, at least since I've been coming around here," Brian said. "Most of the drugs I've tried throughout the years I bought from a dealer here."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You do drugs?"

He exhaled roughly, probably scolding himself internally for divulging that bit of information to me. "I'm a club boy, Justin. Of course I do drugs."

"What kinds of drugs?"

"You name it, I've probably tried it, but nothing that requires sticking a needle into my body. Even I'm not that dumb."

"But... why?" I asked. "I mean, why would you do any drugs?"

"Most drugs just heighten your experiences. I've had some bad experiences while on various drugs, sure, but I usually enjoy myself. You've gotta live to learn and I've learned what I can and cannot handle through trial and error. Probably the most fun I've ever had in my life was the first time I dropped acid right here in this building on my twentieth birthday."

"And I guess you're okay with underage kids coming in here? Aren't you supposed to be twenty-one to go to a club?"

"Legally yes, but letting kids with fake I.D.s in here isn't a big deal compared to the other shit that goes on under this roof. I came here my first time a couple weeks after I turned eighteen."

"How old are you now?" I asked him.

He raised an eyebrow. "How old do you think I am?"

"Thirty-three?" I guessed.

"Fuck. You," he growled, punctuating each word. "I'm twenty-nine."

I shrugged innocently. "I figured early thirties, so... I didn't think you'd be that sensitive about your age."

He snarled at me for a moment. "Alright... you're welcome here at Babylon, but I don't want you to ever bring Daphne or anyone else, or to ever discuss what goes on in here with anyone. Also, I don't want you telling anyone in this building that you are my student or anyone on Liberty Avenue, for that matter.

"It seems that Emmett has taken a liking to you, so I want you to stick with him when you're here. Hell, you can go and help Theodore prop the bar up if Emmett becomes otherwise occupied. The two of them are here almost every night."

Brian then grabbed me by my upper arms and pulled me to stand. "However, I don't want you to ever go into the backroom. You're way too innocent to be around that kind of environment."

"I'm too innocent? What happened to, ‘You can go to the Meat Hook for all I give a shit'?" I asked, throwing his words back at him.

He smiled. "I didn't really mean that. You had just found me fucking some guy and you didn't even know that I was gay at the time."

"And how do you know about how innocent I am? You don't know what I have or haven't done."

Brian went to sit on the corner of his desk, picking up his glass. "Alright, stud. Educate me on the sexual history of Justin Taylor."

I looked at the painting behind the desk again. "Well... I haven't done much."

"You've never fucked before, either as a top or bottom," he confidently said.

I felt myself blush a bit. "No."

He finished his drink before saying, "And you've never given anyone head before."

"Yes, I have," I blurted.

"To whom?" he asked, ever the English teacher utilizing the appropriate who/whom usage.

"That... that's none of your business, sir," I emphatically stated.

He gave me a devilish smile. "Someone from school, perhaps?"

I looked down at the carpet, unable to speak.

"Who was it? I'd bet it was some closet case like that asshole Chris Hobbs."

I raised my head to look at him, my mouth and eyes wide open.

"Ah-ha!" he yelled, pointing at me accusingly. "No wonder he treats you like shit. I knew that something had to have happened between the two of you."

I covered my face with my hands. "Oh God."

"Was that what he said when you were blowing him?" Brian asked seductively.

"No!" I yelled, pulling my hands away. "Maybe... I don't remember. It was several months ago and it only happened once."

Brian chuckled.

"He was drunk," I added.

"Of course he was," Brian said, still smiling in amusement.

"Please don't tell anyone about this," I begged, putting my hands together in a praying motion. "No one else knows. I promised him I'd never tell anyone."

He walked over and placed his hands on the sides of my neck. "Hey, you have a lot more dirt on me than I do on you, so your secret's safe with me, Sunshine."

I smiled a bit as I looked up into his eyes. "Thank you."

He looked down at my lips for a few seconds before leaning in and giving me a short but sweet kiss.

"Fuck," Brian hissed as he pulled away.

I put my hands on the back of his head and pulled him back to me, locking my lips with his again. I felt him eagerly return the kiss, our tongues soon dancing together. I could taste the remnants of the whiskey in his mouth and I vowed then to only drink Jim Beam in the future.

I reached down with my right hand and cupped his dick, which seemed to be just as hard as it had been when we had played pool earlier that evening at Woody's. He moaned into my mouth and roughly shoved me against the door, knocking the wind out of me a bit.

I continued to rub Brian through his jeans as I sucked on his tongue, but I was aching for more contact as he grabbed my ass with both hands. I popped the button on his jeans and lowered his zipper, and I found that he was not wearing any underwear when his cock sprang out of his open fly into my hand.

Holy shit... I didn't know how the hell he fit that thing in his pants, especially when it was as hard as it was at that moment.

I started jerking his long, thick cock as we thoroughly ravaged each other's mouths. He soon began thrusting into my hand, moaning and whimpering out each breath. I felt my own cock crying for attention, but I silently told it to be patient.

I wasn't sure if something clicked in Brian's head about a minute after I started to stroke his cock but it was as if he had suddenly realized what he was doing and who he was doing it with. He abruptly pulled his head back, yanked my hand off of him, and jumped away as if I had just burst into flames.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Brian yelled, somehow stuffing himself back into his jeans. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and paced the floor for a moment before looking back over at me with a scowl on his face.

"Brian," I said, my voice quivering in sadness that the beautiful moment was over.

He pushed me out of the way before wrenching the door open and storming out of his office.

I began to follow after him, making sure to close the door behind me. Brian was a few steps in front of me, shoving men out of his way as he walked across the catwalk and back down the stairs. I stopped on the third step up from the floor so I could see where he was going, and I choked back a sob as I watched him elbow through the crowded dance floor and turn into the hallway leading to the backroom.

That son of a bitch... He let me get him all revved up only to go and try to find someone else to finish the job in the one place that he forbade me to go?

Fuck that.

I employed Brian's crowd-clearing method and stalked across the dance floor, ignoring my upper-class manners and not apologizing to anyone that I had to shove out of my way. I then walked down the hallway and into the backroom, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim blue lighting. I could see at least a dozen men in various sexual configurations but I didn't pay much attention to them like I had during my last visit.

I found Brian standing a few feet in front of me, seemingly scoping the place out. He obviously didn't think I'd have the guts to tail his ass because he was looking everywhere but directly behind him.

A shirtless, muscular brunette with a goatee and a nipple ring approached Brian not five seconds later, and Brian walked over to an open spot against the wall. Goatee followed him, and Brian must have sent him some kind of telepathic signal, because Goatee dropped down to his knees and opened Brian's fly without a word exchanged between them.

It was then that I had some idea of why they called him "Brian Fucking Kinney" at the diner - he didn't even have to try. He was like the God of Fucking... or something to that affect.

Well, fuck you, Mr. Fucking Kinney.

I walked over to stand a few feet behind where Goatee was kneeling. He must have been working some special magic on Brian's cock, because the owner of said cock had his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, and his hands grasped around the back of Goatee's head.

I employed Brian's attention-grabbing method of loudly clearing one's throat, which seemed to work because his eyes immediately popped open and locked onto mine. That was the only movement he made however, and he continued to allow Goatee to work his magic.

If he was angry about me breaking his rule about going to the backroom, he didn't show it.

One of my fellow twinks, a skinny brunette around my height wearing a tight t-shirtstepped in front of me a few seconds later, blocking my view.

"Hey," he said to me.

I was well aware of what the backroom was for by that point, so I decided to just go for it.

"Want to suck me off?" I asked him out loud, since I didn't think I possessed telepathy like Mr. Fucking Kinney did.

He gave me a big smile. "Yeah."

There just so happened to be empty space along the wall immediately to the right of Brian and Goatee, so I walked over to stand next to Brian, our shoulders no more than two feet apart. I also decided to employ Brian's method of letting the trick do all the work by allowing the twink to open my fly and pull down my pants and underwear enough to expose my cock. Luckily, my anger towards Brian had done nothing to kill the erection that he had given me in his office.

I turned my head to the right to look at Brian as - shit, I didn't even know his name - wrapped his hand around the base of my cock and licked the tip of it. I suddenly remembered that no one had ever touched me like that before, and I felt my knees buckle for a moment before forcing myself to stand up straight. I really did not want to lean against the wall, since I didn't know how many different loads of jizz had been previously deposited on it, but it was the only way for me to remain upright.

The twink - he looked like a "Joey" to me - licked and sucked around the head of my cock which was no doubt dripping pre-cum. It felt good but I was mostly focused on Brian's profile since he seemed to be refusing to look at me. I glanced down and saw that Goatee must have been deep-throating Brian's cock because the tip of Goatee's nose was brushing Brian's pubes with each bob of his head.

I would have been impressed by Goatee's skills if I wasn't so pissed off at the man he was servicing.

Once again taking a page from Brian's playbook, I grabbed onto Joey's head with both hands and forced him to take more of my cock into his mouth. I gasped at the sensation of Joey's hot, wet mouth surrounding me and I knew that I wasn't going to last very long, especially when he moved the hand that had been around my cock down to play with my balls. His other hand gripped the back of my right thigh.

My gasp must have caught Brian's attention because he finally turned his head to look at me. We stared at each other as we continued to fuck our respective trick's mouth, both of us moaning our approval. I could feel Brian's hot breath on my face.

I felt Joey swallow around my cock and accidently banged the right side of my head into the wall as his throat restricted around my shaft. I pumped into his mouth three more times before I came, unable to keep my eyes open or hold back from yelling out in pleasure. My orgasm must have set Brian's off because he followed me a second later, shouting just as loud as I had.

It took every bit of strength I had to remain standing, my whole body vibrating in the afterglow of the first blowjob I had ever received. Joey was kind enough to fix my clothes for me, and I turned my head to look at him as he stood up in front of me.

I felt like such a slut.

"Thank you," I said to him, minding my manners.

"My pleasure," he answered with a smile. "You have a beautiful dick."

I couldn't help but laugh, never hearing that part of my anatomy be complemented before. "Again, thank you."

Joey gave me a quick kiss before heading off towards the back of the room, not sticking around for me to return the favor... not that I was especially willing to offer.

It was then I noticed that Brian and Goatee had disappeared. I walked a bit farther into the room but did not see Mr. Fucking Kinney anywhere.