Chapter 17 - The Top of the Tops.
It took several days before Brian's campaign to top all the tops in town died down. He was absolutely shameless about it all. Just like that first night at Woody's, Brian would walk into whatever bar or club he planned to conquer, pick out the biggest top he could find, then announce his selection to the entire place at full volume. Almost always, the chosen victim acquiesced with enthusiasm.
Only twice did the intended prey put up any kind of struggle. The first time, Brian had, perhaps unwisely, chosen a big brutish leather daddy who was well known as a Dom in BDSM circles. When summoned, he simply yelled back, telling Kinney to 'Fuck Off'. The assembled crowd in the bar that night boo'ed and hissed at the man in disappointment. Eventually the Dom was chased out of the bar by the nagging ridicule of the bar patrons who had apparently grown to like this new game.
The second time, Brian had called out a tall, beautiful, all manly-man stud type whose aura screamed out that he was an exclusive top. He was new in town, too, and didn't know much at all about Brian Kinney or The Stud's latest antics. The Newbie Stud's response to being ordered to the back and told to have his pants around his ankles by the time Brian arrived, was a look of complete confusion and a loud 'What?'. The crowd that night was restless; they weren't about to let their nightly entertainment escape that easily. Several of the spectators immediately surrounded Newbie and started whispering to him. The rest of the room sat in quiet expectation, their eyes drifting from a still standing Brian Kinney to the Newbie and back.
After a couple of minutes, Newbie pushed through the crowd of whisperers and strode boldly up to Kinney. The two tall gorgeous men stood there, scrutinizing each other for a moment. The entire bar had gone completely silent waiting to see what would happen. Finally, Newbie leaned over and whispered something in Kinney's ear. Brian broke out laughing. "Maybe later," Kinney responded to the secret request. Then the pair turned together towards the back and the room erupted with wild cheering and catcalls. The crowd would be getting their show and they were more than happy about it.
The family's reaction to Brian's new antics was, as expected, mixed. Brian's usual detractors, namely Mel with Ted occasionally adding a barb or two, complained about the outrageous displays and how degrading the whole thing was. Michael was even more impressed with his idol's virility than usual and made sure he told Brian even more regularly, how cool it was when The Stud would call someone out like that. Everybody else wavered between grudging admiration and confused disdain. Nobody was sure why Brian had suddenly felt the need to ramp up his exhibitionism to such over-the-top proportions.
Justin, the only one who knew precisely why Brian was doing what he was doing, wouldn't comment. The boy followed Brian around, annoyed with the antics but understanding what had triggered them, and determined to look out for Brian regardless of how reckless and wanton he was being. Justin did worry that eventually one of the tops Brian called out would object more forcefully and Brian would end up getting punched in the face for the insult, but as time went by and that didn't happen, the youth relaxed on that front. Justin knew this couldn't go on indefinitely, so he just waited it out with his usual doggedly tenacious patience.
After a few days, the news reports on the mysterious Pittsburgh Male Pregnancy died down. The less Brian heard about it on the news, the better his moods became. Justin knew the crisis was past when, one night at Woody's, a semi-contrite Stud came up behind him and whispered in his ear.
"Taylor. Get YOUR ass to the back. I want your pants off and you bent over the sink on display by the time I get there!"
"Yes, sir! Whatever you say, Mr. Kinney, sir!" The grinning blond youth responded, happy to accept Brian's apology, no matter what odd form it came in.
Brian smiled a sweet, gentle little smile, reached out a hand to his special twink and the two walked together towards the bathrooms. After putting on a typical Kinney-Taylor display, to the vocal delight of the bystanders at Woody's, the pair seemed to tacitly agree it was high time to move this to a more private setting. The make up sex that night at the loft was enthusiastic, to say the least, and both men seemed to be moving around more carefully than usual the next day.
Of course, this was Brian Fucking Kinney, so things didn't change overnight. Two nights later, egged on by a certain Best Friend who liked to meddle, the 'Kinney Call Out', as the game had begun to be called by the denizens of Liberty Avenue, was back on. Justin wanted to strangle a giggling Michael who was squealing with glee, convinced this was the funnest game ever, as he and Brian picked out the biggest, beefiest top they could find in the bar that night.
When Michael and Brian finally agreed on someone, declaring that their pick was guaranteed to be a dedicated top, Michael started pushing and teasing, daring Brian to try his little game on the beefcake stud. Brian had never been one to turn down a challenge. So, while Justin groaned quietly in his corner, The Big Bad Stud, stood up and pointed his perfectly manicured hand at the buff beefcake. Beefcake looked over at Brian for a long minute, apparently contemplating his response with a grave look on his face, then looked down at his black cowboy boots, shrugged, and moved off in the direction Kinney had indicated without a word. The bar erupted with amused catcalls, loud clapping and a cheer or two. Michael was clapping and whistling louder than anyone.
When Brian came back to the table he was greeted like a conquering war hero. Michael seemed especially proud of his Best Friend's viril exploits - as if his own prowess was elevated merely by association with the Great Kinney. Brian accepted all the praise at first, but before long you could see he was getting annoyed that Michael wouldn't drop it. The adulation society only quieted in the end when Brian snapped, yelled at Mikey to 'shut the fuck up already' and told him to go get his own fuck instead of babbling on about Brian's.
It wasn't long before Brian sidled up to Justin, where the fuming young man had retreated to the far end of the bar. "You ready to get out of here?" Brian asked softly.
"How was he?" Justin asked before making any move to acquiesce to Brian's request.
"Terrible," Brian answered immediately. "He kept squirming and he was a moaner. Plus, he just smelled . . . bad."
"Smelled bad?" Justin questioned, never having known Brian to care that much about body odor in a casual trick that he was fucking in the less than fresh environs of the men's room after all.
Brian leaned in and inhaled a huge lungful of Justin's essence. "Yeah. He didn't smell like that. He was . . . He didn't smell right. . ." Brian struggled to explain.
"You know," Justin capitulated, "you're just lucky I like you so much. Otherwise I'd stay pissed at you a lot longer after this sort of shit."
"Actually," Brian said, draping his arm casually around the younger man's shoulders and leaning in to finish his admission in a hushed voice. "I DO know how lucky I am." Then the quirky brunet smirked sexily at his companion and started guiding them both towards the door.
Justin was stunned by this unprecedented confession and said nothing, letting himself be led wherever Brian Kinney wanted to take him.
The Kinney Call Out games tapered off pretty quickly after that. Brian claimed it wasn't any fun anymore since nobody had the balls to refuse. Justin thought it might be something deeper. He'd watched the last two rounds of the game and had seen Brian sniffing at his victims as he led them to the back. Both times, his face showed just the barest hint of dislike and Brian would look over his shoulder in Justin's direction with a wistful sigh.
'Saved by the pheromones', Justin laughed to himself.