


Orange is the New Blue

by Bryton4ever71



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2015-01-31 22:30:17
Rating: M
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,013
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10819901/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2399946/Bryton4ever71
Summary: Another QAF fractured fairy tale! This time we're bastar...uhhh I mean this is a rough version of The Shoemaker and the Elves. Kind of a what if story...what if things didn't go so well starting Kinnetic? Plus Gus has been born/not born yet...haven't figured that out yet and keeping with the rules and to avoid the nasty statutory rape thing let's just say Justin's 18. Enjoy!





	1. The Adman

**ORANGE IS THE NEW BLUE **

Chapter 1

Th**e** Adman

Brian Kinney was very pleased with himself.

Not everybody saw that as an asset. The trouble with Brian was that he was very pleased with himself _all the time_. It became very tiring.

Well, why shouldn't he be? He was just approaching 30, was handsome, made sure he went to the gym regularly, and had just started his own ad agency, Kinnetic. True it was a fledgling business but he'd be on the top in no time, especially when he'd poached enough clients from his former boss.

SHIT! Except it didn't turn out like that. Every contact in Brian's database seemed to have gotten wind of his defection. Vance had proven not to be as dull-witted as Brian had thought and had practically blackballed him. (And not in the good, life-affirming way either!)

One by one they had all politely but firmly declined all his offers and wooing. And then, all of a sudden, he had come to the end of his list and he found he was left with only one company who had not rejected him, Brown Athletics, a shoemaking company.

"Ahh well!" thought Brian, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." And that's just what he did, throwing himself heart and soul into the campaign.

Unfortunately, although he had the heart of a lion and the soul of a poet (or so he thought) it turns out he did not have the soul of an artist. All his display boards were shit. And his first presentation to the Brown people was shit. They hated it and Brian barely was able to keep them from jumping ship. As it was, he had to do a thing he hated more than anything. He begged. He hated the weasel-ey, sniveling, groveling tone that came into his voice but he did it. He was desperate.

In the end though, it worked. They didn't leave his agency and he and his only employee, Cynthia, lived to see another day….of employment.

Cynthia was the only one to believe in him when he left Vance's and was his personal assistant and man Friday. They often joked that if Brian were straight, she'd probably be his wife.

Not tonight though. After the Brown people left, she screamed at him for a quarter hour, slapped his face like he was her bitch, a few times and shook him by the collar like a weight trainer making a shaker of whey protein. She told him to smarten up and not blow this or she was going back to Vance. Then she went home.

Brian was left with a bruised ego and cheekbones and otherwise shaky from the shaking. There was nothing for him to do though, so he gathered up his shitty display boards and went home to his loft, which he could no longer afford.

When he got there, he set them up and looked at them as if they would suddenly come to life and fix themselves. Of course, this didn't happen. And the more Brian looked, the more annoyed and frustrated he got until he knew there was only one thing to do.

And what was that you may ask? Why, go to his favorite playground, Babylon, of course! To lose himself in the music, get wasted on drugs, and find a warm and willing ass to bury himself and his troubles balls deep in. And so, he got dressed in his favorite club clothes, hopped in his jeep, and headed out.

Alas, the music was annoying, his friends company was either over the top, (Emmett) or sycophantic, (Michael), the E that Anita sold him should have been rated D for defective, and in the back room, there were too many warm and willing bodies to make it worth his while. Brian felt like a kid in a candy store but all they were selling were Mr. Goodbar. (In short, all the same thing.)

Brian put on his bored mask and headed out, followed by a few of his friends that he had promised a ride to. But as they stepped onto the sidewalk, and stood there blowing smoky breath of cold, adjusting to the winter weather, Brian saw something that chucked rides, reason and rhyme out the window.

He didn't know it yet but that was the point where his world was changed forever. And actually, it's where our story really begins.

B*J*B*J*B*J

He looked across the street. There was steam gushing out of multiple heating grates in the street and out of the mist stepped a blond boy no more than 18. He was small yet perfectly proportioned. He had a bubble butt, perfect ears and styled hair that looked like he had snuck out from the suburbs. He wore sneakers, jeans, a white t-shirt and a plaid shirt over that and a jean jacket. It was the only protection he wore against the cold.

The boy leaned against a lamp-post. The light shone down and made his sunshine hair glow. With his ethereal appearance and his slight but perfect features, Brian was reminded of an elf.

The boy looked across the street at the club hungrily but wistfully. He desired entrance to it like water but knew for various reasons he would not be granted access.

Their eyes met and locked. The elfin boy had eyes of the purest blue and so bright, Brian could see them from here. A strange thing happened. The world greyed out, the clamoring voices of his friends became the indistinct noise of a great crowd and all that there was in the world was him and those too blue eyes.

He abandoned everything and everyone and walked across the street till he was standing under the lamp-post with the elven creature. He looked into the handsome face, his eyes never leaving his blue counterpart's and said: "How's it going? Had a busy night?"

The blond elfin man-boy shrugged and casually said "Just checkin' out the bars you know? Boytoy…Meathook…"

The elf was adorable. "Meathook? Really. So you're into leather?" Brian asked. He knew he wasn't. The boy was a neophyte and so WASP that it hurt.

"Sure," the blond bluffed bravely.

"Where you headed?"

"Nowhere special."

"I can change that," Brian heard himself as if from a long way off, feeling as if this double entendre was the most important one of his life.

B*J*B*J*B*J

Brian and Justin hopped into Brian's jeep and left his protesting friends in the cold and snowy dust.

Brian drove as fast as legally possible to his loft and hustled his blond treasure inside.

The blond treasure eyed him nervously and tried to pretend he knew what he was doing. "Uhh…nice place. I like your kitchen."

Brian didn't respond. He took off his shirt and dumped a bottle of water all over his head and chest. After the heat of Babylon the cool water felt fantastic. The blond neophyte was hypnotized by the water running all over his chest, as Brian knew he would be.

"Do you like Special K?" asked Brian.

"It's OK. I like Cheerios better."

Brian shucked off his shoes. "I don't mean the kind you eat with bananas. My disco pharmacologist cooks this up for me." He held up a packet.

"Uhhh…I'm really allergic to a lot of drugs…" The elfin lad began to be nervous and rambled on for a while revealing allergies to penicillin, Tylenol, and codeine. Brian was charmed and knew the lad was a virgin to drugs and probably to sex as well. He couldn't wait to be the elf's teacher in all things queer.

"Well, we'll keep all that on the top shelf. Out of reach." he said, when Justin finally ran down like a tired clock. He pocketed his drugs and then pulled off his pants and then underwear. He stood there totally nude with water still glistening off his golden body.

"So are you coming or going?" he asked, "Or coming _and_ going. Or coming and staying." But by this time, he wasn't really asking because he knew the answer. He knew what would happen.

And it did happen. The elfin blond man was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He looked upon him like Brian was a work of art, stone made flesh, all for him. And then drawing closer and closer he pressed himself to Brian until they were chest to chest and they were looking into each other's eyes and their lips were inches apart. Justin stopped for a moment, not really knowing how to proceed but unable to stop the biology that was pushing him inexorably forward, like a wave that is forced forward, ever forward until it crashes down onto the shore.

And then Brian's mouth was crashing down upon his and Justin lost all coherent thought. Brian's tongue was warm and soft from years of Jim Beam and it filled his mouth. And then Brian was sucking at his and that felt great too. They slid them together in a primal dance as old as Adam and Eve. A great pleasure, the likes of which Justin had never felt rose within him. He knew a part of him was losing control and he liked it. He also knew Brian was high and probably wouldn't remember this the same way. But he didn't care. He was tired of being a boy. He wanted to be a man. And he knew he had chosen correctly. On the street, he had turned down several offers before Brian had approached him by his lamp-post. He now knew this was why.

So tired of being a boy. He thought this would make him a man. As the kiss went on and the pleasure grew, his body grew limp and malleable. It occurred to him he might have made a mistake. He thought he'd be a man….he was only a boy…He wanted to be a man….now he was only a toy…..

And God help him….he let himself be played with. All night long.

B*J*B*J*B*J

They sucked. They did 69. Brian gave Justin his first rim job that left him gasping. And then, lifting his legs, after preparing him carefully, Brian eased into him and they fucked all…night…long.

"Look into my eyes," Brian told the virgin when they started, "From this time on, whoever else you're with, I want you to always feel me inside you. Justin obediently looked up at him and Brian moved in and out slowly, then faster and faster, and made the boy a man.

They fucked without interruption until 3 AM. At that point, they collapsed on the sweaty duvet. They looked at each other, panting heavily.

"Ready for round two?" Brian said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Round two!? Are you kidding me? Maybe tomorrow," replied the blond.

"Sorry sweetcheeks," Brian warned, and lightly slapped his ass, "I don't do repeats."

"This was my first time. I guess you figured that out. Anyway, I guess I don't know what I do. But I told my Mom I was sleeping over at a friend's tonight. So I don't suppose I could…come…and stay…at least until the buses start running again?"

"Well…I guess that'd be all right," said Brian, pretending it was a huge imposition.

"Mmmmmm…thanks," the blond said sleepily and snuggled in for a hug and then turned over on his own side.

And that's when it happened. As Justin turned over, his eye fell on Brian's POS display boards. His sleepiness vanished. "What's that?" he asked, propping up on one elbow.

"Work," Brian said shortly, "And soon to be unemployment." At Justin's silent prompting, he continued, "It's a shoe ad. But the art's all wrong."

"Yes. I can see that," said the elf.

"What!? Who the hell do you think you are, you little shit? I worked hard on that."

"I think I'm an artist. I've been drawing and painting since I was five. I hope to go to PIFA someday. I'd really like to be a cartoonist or an animator one day and…." He stopped, sensing accurately that Brian didn't give a shit and had stopped listening.

"And if you're not nicer to me, I won't fix it for you," he finished dramatically.

_That_ perked Brian up in a hurry. "You can't do that!" he exclaimed.

"Of course I can," the blond said reasonably, "It's what I do. Granted, I've never used my art in quite a practical way before….but I can see what's wrong with this right away."

"Oh? And what's that?" Brian snarled.

The background's the wrong color. You see….Orange is the new blue."

"Orange is…what the fuck?"

"Orange is the new blue. It's what all the art teachers have been saying lately."

Is that a fact?" Brian said drily.

"Mmmm-hmmm. And then a picture of the product here….maybe a bolder font there… then here we can add…." Justin started to ramble on and make notes all over the boards.

Brian listened for a while but it really didn't make a lot of sense to him. Justin's words ran together and washed over him like a cat's cozy purr. Brian suddenly felt that everything might turn out all right and that feeling made him bone weary. He looked over at Justin and saw that his pearly flesh and golden hair was starting to glow as if it had its own radiance.

"You're the most beautiful elf in the world," he murmured.

Justin started. "I'm sorry. Did you just call me an elf?"

Brian smiled goofily, "Mmm-hmm. The most beautiful one. Better than Legolas." He pulled on Justin's neck and drew him in for a deep kiss.

Justin smiled and kissed back and then pulled back frowning a little. Brian's movements were clumsy and as if he was on automatic pilot. Justin looked down on his slack face and his glazed eyes and waved his hand in front of them. There was no response.

Son of a bitch! Brian Kinney had to the only man on the fucking planet who could sleep-kiss.

Justin chuckled and kissed him softly again and whispered: "Go on to sleep. I'm here. I'll take care of everything. Just rest. Just sleep."

Brian sighed a huge sigh of contentment and smiled in a way he would never admit to and never would awake. He rolled over and fell deep asleep and dreamed of chocolate elves wrapped in golden foil rolling off a conveyor belt. Brian knew that inside they were filled with a creamy filling.

Meanwhile, Justin watched him for a bit and memorized his smile. Then he turned back to the boards, sat on the edge of the bed, and worked his magic.

B*J*B*J*B*J

Brian's alarm went off at 6:30 AM. He awoke and stretched like a happy cat. He reached over and shut it off and realized something was amiss. He had not set his alarm. His shitty display boards were in a different position, at the foot of his bed where someone perhaps had hoped they would be the first thing he saw in the morning.

And worst of all, Justin was gone.

TBC


	2. The Repeat

Chapter 2

The Repeat

The first thing Brian noticed when he was properly caffeinated was that there was a note taped to the display board.

The display board itself had notes written all over it, specific colors, a note that said, put product here, a catchy new slogan and the like.

The note said:

Brian,

I took the liberty of setting your alarm for you.

I left at 6. As you said you don't do repeats, I thought it was better if I was gone when you awoke.

I'm confident that if you make a new board with these changes on it, you will have a better result.

I'll be at Woody's tonight. I'd love to know the result and of course, if you decide to alter your no repeat rule…I'm ready for round 2.

Otherwise, thank you for the best night of my life. Really. It was the best.

J

Cheeky little shit! Like he would ever bend his 'no repeat' rule! Brian huffed around the apartment for a while, took a shower and then a closer look at the boards. He liked what he saw. The Brown people would definitely like this better, he thought.

He got dressed in his Armani and since it was quiet, he was able to think clearly, something that he usually avoided.

He wasn't going to break his rule, he wasn't.

But then again, a voice said, there was a time you thought you'd never beg. And you did that yesterday too. You never thought you'd let a blond virgin help you with advertising before. You never thought you'd be…desperate.

And if this did work, he'd be back on his way to the top. He'd want to celebrate. So….who knows.

You never knew what it would be like to be buried ball deep in that perfect little ass until 3 AM….and wish it had been until 6…that annoying little voice persisted.

Brian shook off the unwanted thoughts, picked up the annotated boards and left for work.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

At the office, Brian, hurriedly made up the new board, following Justin's instructions as best he could. It was rudimentary and inexpert but thanks to that bastard Vance, he couldn't afford an artist. It was just him and Cynthia but he couldn't let anyone else know that.

The background was orange. There was a pair of shoes in the center of the board. The font was blue and bolder than before and it said BROWN ATHLETICS along the top. Along the bottom it said: Walk a mile in us…Walk for life.

The Brown Athletics people loved it. They loved the bolder color, and the simple yet profound statement and….just everything. They clapped and paid for the ad and gave him another contact. It was another shoemaking company.

Brian rejoiced inside, and then cringed and sighed internally. More shoes. But he shook everyone's hand and pasted on the widest and most certainly fakest smile he had ever smiled. But the Brown people never noticed the fakery and shook his hand warmly and left, counting the money Brian was going to make them in their heads.

After they left, Brian and Cynthia rejoiced and jumped up and down in glee. They had a quick celebratory drink but all too soon, Brian went back to his office and struck while the iron was hot.

He phoned up the new company. It was called Shulmann's Shoes. Shulmann's were wary of him at first but warmed quickly when they heard about Brown's Athletics. They treated him warmly and promised to send him a sample of their product right away.

The shoes came by messenger a few hours later. Brian ripped open the box and his face fell in dismay.

Sitting in the box was a pair of loafers that looked to have been in style in the '40's. They were the most ugly things Brian had ever seen.

His mind went blank with revulsion and panic. He had no idea how he was going to sell these shoes.

He walked around his office a few times, breathing deeply, trying to get a grip and an idea. Nothing came. He jammed his hands into his pockets in frustration and drew out a piece of paper he had put there without really thinking about it.

It was Justin's note. Brian stood there, reading it for a while. He looked at the ugly shoes. He looked at the note. Back at the shoes. Back and forth about ten times.

At last though, he snatched up the shoes, a blank display board, some pencils, brushes, and a few paint pots and ran out, telling Cynthia to finish up and go on home. There was nothing more to be done here.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

That night…

Woody's had a good early evening crowd as dozens of queers waited in refuge for Babylon to open and the party to begin.

Brian walked in and all eyes turned toward him like flowers do the sun. Nearly all of them clouded with lust as usual but there was one blue gaze whose wattage did not dim and reflected excitement, hope and happiness as well.

Brian ignored all eyes except the piercing blue ones and sat down at the bar next to them.

"Hey," he said, as casually as possible, as if he'd planned coming here all along, as if meeting Justin was a coincidence, as if he didn't give a fuck.

"Hey," Justin said back, waiting because he saw through Brian's façade like a freshly scrubbed window. "So…how'd it go? I hope it was OK I set your alarm at 6:30. Not too early was it?"

"I usually get up at 6."

"Oh…sorry."

"No biggie. I just hustled and took a few extra flights of stairs instead of the treadmill."

"Oh, I see. So, uhhh….did the boards work for you?" Justin asked like he didn't give a shit. Brian was amused because the blond artist was tensed and on enough pins and needles to form a 12 foot haystack.

"They were all right." Brian paused and sipped his beer, drawing it out, watching Justin squirm in anticipation. "We got the account."

"YES! I knew it! That's great, Brian!" Justin launched himself at him and Brian found himself full of blond boy ass that was wiggly and smelling like soap and…and wonderful. But he couldn't…wouldn't let on about that. If Justin knew how good it felt hugging him he'd just….well, never mind.

"It's no big deal," lied Brian shamelessly. He put the blond boy away from him slightly so Justin wouldn't detect his dick that was so hard it rivaled diamond.

Justin tried to hug him again but was confused and hurt when Brian distanced himself once again. "Brian? What's wrong?"

"Uhhh….nothing. Everything's cool. It's just…we have all night, don't we?" Brian said and winked lasciviously.

"Uhhh, yeah, ok. I think I get it," Justin said slowly, trying to figure things out and failing completely.

Brian wasn't sure what to do next. He was unaccustomed to asking for help or asking for anything for that matter. Men came to him, men hit on him and even in business, Brian was used to getting his way. But he did need help. He needed to buy some time.

"Wanna play pool?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Sure," answered Justin just as casually.

They moved over to a table and did just that. Brian pocketed a few balls, thinking madly and then just decided on the direct approach. He _needed_ this account; he needed to prosper and if he did he'd be able to hire on at least one artist and maybe another associate. He fired and missed the ball on purpose.

Justin got up to hit the balls. This allowed Brian to ogle the young man's ass and adopt a pose that was as nonchalant as possible.

Brian took a slow pull on his beer as Justin set up his shot, trying to think of the best words to say. He waited until Justin actually sunk a ball before leaning back and saying, "So the client gave me a contact. It's shoes again but at least things are looking up."

"That's great. So….you have two pairs of shoes to sell now, do you?"

"In a matter of speaking, I guess." Brian sucked on the neck of his beer bottle suggestively, "Not so great though. The shoes are shit. They look like they jumped through a time warp from the 40's. They're ugly as sin and are going to be a bitch to sell."

"That's too bad," Justin said.

"Maybe. But if I do, I'll be able to afford a couple of employees." He thought it prudent not to mention one would be another artist. Like with credentials. But to get there, he needed the blond spitfire.

"OK," said Justin.

"So…I don't suppose…you'd wanna…try your hand…you know…help me out…again? You did such a good job last time and I'm shit at art." Brian managed.

"Depends. What's in it for me?" Justin asked bluntly.

"What? What do you…I mean…what do you want?" Brian asked shakily. He hadn't been prepared for this question.

CLACK! THUNK! Justin sunk a ball. "What do you think I want, Brian?"

"I don't have any money, sweetcheeks. That's why I was-…"

"I don't want your money." CLACK THUNK!

"I – I don't know…I mean…."

Justin walked around the table toward Brian and Brian stepped back thinking he needed the space. As Justin walked around the table, he hit the cue ball three times, each time sinking a ball and then having it roll back to him like an obedient puppy. And then he was there and it was clear that he didn't just want space; he wanted _Brian's_ space. Brian backed up and up and suddenly he was in a corner and Justin was there and pressing close and this time there was no taking no for an answer.

"Brian. Haven't you guessed? I want…round 2."

"Sorry sweetcheeks, I don't do repeats. And I don't mix business with pleasure. Especially with some…"

Justin casually reached out and squeezed Brian's dick through his pants. Brian broke off and gasped with pleasure at the sensation; he was still diamond hard. Justin moved down to his balls and casually fondled them…and then not so casually. It was not so pleasurable now.

"Choose your next words wisely," Justin advised, "With some…what, Brian?"

"Um…one night stand?" Brian suggested. Something deep inside him told him not to piss the blond off.

"Hmmmmmm….Good boy," The hand began to massage again, rewarding him. "Well, Bri, I can see where that's how you planned it. How we planned it really. And the work I did last night, was voluntary, something we both stumbled across. But if you've come seeking my favors then I want some in return. You'll have to re-think your policy….at least for tonight." Squeeze….squeeze…squeeze…went the hand. It was relentless. Brian bit back a groan and tried to not cum in his pants. "I want…round 2."

"I…I don't barter sexual favors like some bitch," gasped out Brian.

Squueze…squeeze…squeeze…went that busy little hand that made Brian want to re-think that policy.

"Of course not," said Justin, "We'd just be having a little one night stand….again. And in return, I'll look over what you've got."

Brian grabbed his hands and put them around his waist before he actually _did_ shoot a load. "I don't have anything. But I brought some pencils and brushes and paint home for you…uh…if you decided to help, that is."

A hungry look came into Justin's eyes and his cheeks colored. He liked that idea very much.

"Sounds cool," he said, playing it cool. "So….do we have a deal?"

"Work first, play second," countered Brian.

"I'll look over things, see what I can do, then we play, then I'll finish. I won't do the work just to have you renege and throw me out…like a bitch." He left the statement double ended on purpose.

"I would never do that," huffed Brian, cursing inwardly, because that's what he was totally going to do.

"Glad to hear it." Justin turned and shot the cue at a strange angle. The cue ball jumped over one of Brian's balls, smacked the 8 ball which rolled smoothly over and dropped neatly into a corner pocket.

Justin straightened up and gazed deep into Brian's hazel depths. "Well, look at that. Looks like I won," he said softly. A hand snaked up and curled around Brian's neck. He was pulled down to meet the blond's lips.

Justin tasted like honey and sunshine. An atomic bomb went off somewhere in Brian's brain as the passion between the two men exploded and continued for many minutes as the two men frenched hotly for an undisclosed amount of time. It was too soon. It was forever.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

Babylon was forgotten.

For the second time in a row that week, Brian found himself driving as fast as legally possible home. He was stone cold sober and clean as he usually took whatever drug of choice just before entering Babylon. He didn't like the sensation very much. He preferred his senses dulled and blurred around the edges before he hit the backroom.

Then he looked over and remembered. He didn't need the backroom tonight, not when he had those eyes and that buttery hair and that bubble butt that wouldn't quit. Justin looked over and smiled. Brian returned it as best he could; he'd forgotten how to smile, really smile ages ago. He reached out and took Justin's hand and Justin smiled. Then it faded a bit because Brian was placing his hand on his crotch, encouraging the younger man to fondle him as he was driving.

"Umm…how bout we just hold hands on the way home?" asked Justin, trying it.

"Ummmm…..how bout you suck my dick?" returned Brian, unzipping and pushing on his neck.

Justin deftly twisted out of his clutches and grabbed his arm and leaned against his shoulder instead.

"Boy, you're a real romantic, aren't you?" he said.

"Romance is for straights and lesbos," returned Brian.

"Hmmmmm….interesting theory," drowsed Justin against Brian's shoulder in an impossibly romantic pose. He pretended the motion of the car was making him sleepy.

Brian looked over once at the heavy lidded blue eyes and then back at the road and tried to think of yet another shortcut. "Little fucker…" he murmured.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

They entered the apartment fused at the mouth.

Even before the heavy door slid closed with a BANG!...They were tearing at each other, nipping, tasting, sucking. Justin found himself naked in three seconds flat and Brian followed (birthday) suit very shortly after.

Brian knelt before Justin as if at an altar and began sucking his cock with gusto. His hands went around him and began to knead his perfect ass. Justin groaned and went limp against those hands and yet felt completely supported, completely safe. He sat there and enjoyed a most artful blowjob.

Artful…..oh shit! Justin tried to derail that thought process but it was too late. Along with the pleasure sensations were visions of paint and palettes and being swept off in a world of careful planning and color mixing and the abstract patterns they could make against the gorgeous feel of a canvas and….

"What the fuck?" asked Brian in annoyance as Justin's dick went soft.

"Sorry, Brian. I thought your blowjob was artful but then that made me think of other things and….well, maybe we should look at the ad work before we continue. You know….a deal's a deal…and all that."

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Who the fuck cares?" Brian's plans of chucking Justin out had flown out of his mind like a bird out the window. "Get on the damn bed!"

Justin kissed him long and light, then harder, igniting a dangerous fire of passion between them. "Please." Was all he said.

Brian sighed gustily and got up and pulled him over to the living room where he had left the hated shoes.

Justin made a noise of revulsion.

"I know, right?"

Justin thought for a moment and then smiled a million watt smile. "Well, never mind. I know just what to do! I'll make everything better! Now let's fuck!"

Brian kissed him….kissed him again…kissed him deeper. "Now you're talking my language!" He kissed him again. He couldn't get enough of this boy….but of course he'd never say that.

They fell onto the bed and Brian went to work licking and tasting Justin, running his tongue over every inch of the boy. Then he went back up and finally, finally finished his blowjob on Justin's huge and throbbing, leaking boner.

Justin sucked Brian. Brian sucked Justin again. They 69'ed. They did a few numbers and positions Justin didn't know were possible. Brian gave him a slow and steady rim job that left Justin frantic. And then, finally, Brian made Justin slide the condom on him, lubed up and slid inside Heaven.

It was much different sober. Better. The control was amazing. Justin's ass was so tight. And the little fucker was so appreciative, making just the right amount of noise, pushing against Brian's cock, urging him deeper, faster. And so, Brian obliged.

All this took hours. They sucked and fucked until midnight, took a break, a shower, a snack and then started again and fucked until 3 am until both of them were exhausted. It was the first time Brian had screwed the same trick twice and he wasn't sure how he liked it. He could already tell Justin was getting way too cozy and tricks who got cozy, ended up wanting to stay…for good. Or…so he heard. That was _never_ going to happen to him!

At the same time, Justin had effortlessly matched his stamina, something not often done by other mortal men. He had cooked their snack, had an ass that wouldn't quit, was clean, polite and sucked cock like a Dustbuster.

Brian lay there, recuperating and looked over at Justin. God, those eyes! Those eyes were like two stars. And that smile! It was like sunshine and it promised that everything would be all right.

Justin looked over and saw how heavy-lidded his lover was. It was 3 am and Brian was tuckered out. He was fading fast.

Justin leaned over and kissed him softly and when he pulled back, Brian was asleep.

Justin sighed. "Ahh well. Might as well get to work," he whispered to himself.

Justin looked over all the supplies and paint with eagerness and then over at those hideous shoes. He sighed again, picked up a brush and a pencil and got to work.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

The alarm awoke Brian at 6 am sharp. Brian groaned and hit snooze three times. He really couldn't keep up these late nights.

When he finally became alert enough to wake properly and remember, he looked eagerly for Justin's boards. There was something positioned at the end of the bed again. And Justin was gone. There was no note.

Brian looked at the board, blinked…blinked again and then became wide awake in adrenaline fueled panic.

"SONOFABITCH! THAT LITTLE FUCKER!" he screamed in rage.

TBC


	3. The Brave Little Taylor

Chapter 3

The Brave Little Taylor

Liberty Diner was a madhouse in the mornings.

All the fags who had been so frantic to party at Babylon the night before (and almost every night) were now hung over and yet in need to get to their respective day jobs. The answer…Bacon and eggs at the Liberty Diner of course! It was also a good meeting place for friends who had gotten separated in the psychedelic madhouse that was Babylon and trade stories about who had done who in the night.

All this meant that early mornings saw the Diner filled to overflowing and that Debbie could count on being run off her feet. However, she was so effusive and friendly to every queen and dyke that graced the door that everybody thought she loved every minute of it. And for the most part, she did. Except when there was a line out the door and Kiki was late…again.

One morning, at 6:52 AM precisely, the door slammed open and the bell rang angrily. Below the bell, equally angry, his hair wet and askew, his tie untied, his shirt misbuttoned, his blazer rumpled and messily put on, and his shoes rather dull and not their usual high gloss, stood a furious and rather wild-eyed Brian fucking Kinney.

The air was rich with the smells of coffee and frying bacon and sausage. There was the dull roar of good natured morning conversation and the occasional ring from the cash register bell. All the booths were full and only a few stools at the counter were empty.

Brian's eyes were wild as he scanned the room. Fortunately, he saw Michael and the gang in one of the booths. He charged over.

"Geez, Brian! What happened to you?" asked Michael, wide eyed.

"I woke up at 6:30 and was showered and out the door in 15 minutes," he answered.

"In a hurry?" Ted asked mildly from his side of the booth. The drab accountant had a twink du jour with a beautiful smile plastered to his side and Emmett was seated next to both of them, keeping a watchful eye on the both of them. Something was going on but Brian didn't have time to be bothered right now. He had to…

"I need to find this man….right now! He hangs out at Woody's at night but I need to find him now. Anybody seen him during the day?" Brian held up his cell. On it was a selfie of Justin wide eyed and puckered adorably. He had kindly left it on Brian's wallpaper in lieu of a note.

Everybody laughed and loved the picture to bits. And the fact that Brian was "desperately seeking Justin" was icing on the cake. Everybody naturally assumed the twink had jilted the lothario Stud who was now and finally head over heels. (Or at least wanted a do-over fuck).

"Geez, Brian, what is it with you and waiters?"Mikey asked, "You planning on working your way through the Pitts with them?" At Brian's vacant expression, Mikey pointed.

Brian turned and at the same time a pair of baby blues caught sight of him. Justin looked adorable with his sunshine smile on high wattage, his yellow hair pleasantly rumpled and a clean white apron around his waist. He carried a bussing tray. As Brian caught sight of him, the spunky teen swept a table of dirty dishes into it.

Blue eyes brightened with love and happiness. Hazel eyes darkened with rage and hate.

"RRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Brian heard an animalistic roaring in his ears as he charged the blond boy, his arms outstretched, his hands curved into talons. He realized the roar was coming from him.

Closer and closer he got to Justin. His fingers itched to squeeze the boy's neck.

Justin stood there, impassive, waiting for him. He put the tray down on the counter. The rest of the diner was shocked into silence.

Just as Brian reached him, was sure he was going to squeeze the life out of the blond tempter and double crosser, Justin grabbed one of his wrists and pulled him forward instead of pushing back and in a lightning move using Brian's own momentum, had Brian's face shoved down onto the table he had just cleared with his elbow against the back of his neck and the other hand holding onto the wrist he had grabbed and he pulled his arm straight back in what threatened to break it and dislocate his shoulder.

Brian roared in rage and humiliation as pain the likes of which he had never imagined shot through his entire arm. He struggled but quieted quickly as Justin twisted with just enough force to make him realize there was no escape.

"Calm down and I'll let you up. Calm down. Calm down and I'll let you up," Justin repeated this soothingly in his ear and gave it a lick to boot. "Um…..are you calm yet?

Brian struggled briefly but gave up after the blond merely twisted his arm whenever he did. He stood there, bent over the table like a bottom bitch and briefly contemplated his life. He was utterly humiliated and one cheek was shmushed flat into the cold Formica tabletop. It occurred to him that he had very nearly hit rock bottom here. Not quite yet. But almost.

"It depends if you're planning on fucking me over this tabletop," Brian quipped, "I'm a total top and I'm not changing that for a little twink like you. Otherwise….fine…yes…I'm calm," he ground out.

"Well, that's just super!" chirped out Justin like a Disney princess. He let go Brian's arm and neck and pulled him up gently but somehow in such a way that they were spooned tightly together, back to front, his crotch pressed against Brian's ass, and his lips warm next to his ear. "But uhhh….don't knock it till you try it, Stud!" And he gave a calculated nip to Brian's earlobe that left the Stud gasping and weak in the knees.

The entire diner was riveted and watching the scene play out like it was a pricey opera.

Once Justin had partially released him, Brian snarled and shoved himself the rest of the way free.

"You little FUCKER! You double crossing little shit! You said you'd help me! And I wake up…to…to nothing! And I'm meeting Shulmann's first thing this morning! There's no time for anything else!"

"But I did help you, Brian. Didn't you see the board?"

"Oh, the board….the board….of course…of course!" Brian mumbled as he stomped over to the front door where he retrieved said board, "You mean this piece of shit! What the fuck, Justin!"

The offending board was displayed to one and all. Painted on it was an artistic yet simple thought bubble that simply said: I'm not hip. I'm a classic. Additional notes written in pencil indicated that the offending shoe be placed under the thought bubble.

"But that's not a piece of shit. That's your ad. Just place the shoes under the thought bubble and you'll be fine."

"But this…this can't be it! There must be more! There has to…all those things we did!" he continued in a furious whisper, using the board as a makeshift barrier in a vain attempt at privacy. He received none as everyone heard everything. "All those things _I_ did! You owe me…there has to be….well, there must be more!"

"Sometimes more is less," said Justin, "There are times when the simplest statement can be the most profound. The maker of these shoes…I could tell he is from another era. He makes those shoes not for the sake of looks but because he's from that other time and yearns to return there, to re-create it. A better time, in his eyes, a simpler time. And so, a simple ad will appeal to him. Trust me. This will work."

"It damn well better! Or I will come back and take it out of your ASS! Fancy moves or not!"

"Promises, promises!" Justin smiled impishly.

"Grrrrrrrr…!" Brian growled in his face and turned on his heel to get out of there.

"Wait a minute! Where are you going?" Justin said.

"Oh I thought I'd go ice skating and then take in a show," Brian snarled sarcastically, "TO WORK! Where else!?"

"But you can't go looking like that! Oh no! That would never do!" Justin said in real distress, sounding exactly like Cinderfella's fussy fairy godfather.

"Honey, I've been telling him that for years!" piped up Emmett, "But he never listens to me!"

"That's just because you haven't been saying the right things," Justin said, snaking a hand around the back of Brian's neck firmly. He pulled down and no nonsensically shoved his tongue down his throat.

"Land o'Goshen! Sorry honey, but there are some things, even I won't say!" said Emmett.

"Yeah! _Very_ few things," quipped Ted drily.

Emmett shushed him unnecessarily.

Justin continued for a few minutes until the ad exec was thoroughly fuc – uh…I mean frenched. Brian would never admit it but his knees were weak and his toes were curled into talons inside his Armani loafers.

At last, Justin pulled back and pulled a now pliant Brian over to a stool at the counter.

"You have quite the way with words, little elf," Brian sassed.

"I like to get my way," Justin sassed back. "Now…when you come in here, what do you like to eat?"

"I leave and go somewhere better," said Brian nastily.

"I see…so bacon and eggs it is," Justin ordered for him, "with….orange…no, guava juice, I think."

"How did you know that?" Brian growled.

"I saw a mess of it in your fridge the other night," Justin said sensibly.

There was a buzz and a hum as the rumor mill started that indeed this was a trick that had spent the night and may have just even done a (gasp) repeat with Brian, the Great Stud of Liberty Avenue!

"Now…I want you to eat every bite…no complaining about carbs for once in your life, he added as Brian opened his mouth to complain about the carbs.

"And…this wrinkled blazer will never do." Justin peeled it off of him. He handed to Kiki who was working the grill. "Hang this above the grill for a few minutes. It'll steam out the wrinkles."

"No! I'll smell like bacon all day!" Brian yelled.

Justin sighed and thought a bit. "The pancake grill," he amended.

While Kiki did that and kept an eye on that, Justin knelt in front of Brian reverently.

"Wha…what are you doing?" asked Brian in alarm.

Justin gently grasped one of Brian's feet in his hands and lifted it worshipfully toward his face. "There is nothing quite like the smell of Armani leather," he said, taking several deep sniffs. "And there is nothing Armani leather loves quite like a spit polish to make it shine." He paused dramatically.

The diner was dead silent. There was not an eye that was not riveted, not a breath that wasn't hitched and held, wondering, wondering what the blond twink was going to do next.

And then…he did it. He bent his head forward and kissed the top of the shoe. He licked it. He laved it. He French kissed it up and down. He sucked on it. He made animalistic noises of pure pleasure as he basically made love to Brian's shoe.

"Justin! What the FUCK! Stop!" Brian yelled, appalled that he should be debasing himself like this in public all for the sake of him.

But Justin didn't stop and he wouldn't let go. He licked up and down and around and sucked the tip all the while casting his wide blue eyes up into Brian's horrified ones. But at the same time, it was giving the ad exec a raging hard on.

Justin didn't stop till he was good and ready and when he was he lifted his head and placed Brian's treated shoe in his lap so that it was resting square on his cock. Then he took his other shoe and laved and slobbered all over that.

Not an eye looked away, not a word was spoken and there was not a soft dick in the house.

Justin took a clean cotton cloth out of the waistband of his apron and proceeded to rub and clean and buff Brian's shoes to a high gloss like an old timey shoe shine boy. He gave them a few finishing whacks with the cloth and inspected them with pride. They were perfect. At least they'd be perfect for the meeting.

He stood up. Whistling and catcalls and thunderous applause broke out. The only ones not cheering were Michael and strangely enough, Emmett.

"But…but…why?" Brian strangled out.

"I was once told…" Deft hands buttoned his shirt the right way.

"That the greatest love you can show…" The hands tied his tie into a thick Windsor knot.

"…your fellow man is the cleaning and care…oh, do you have a comb?" Brian handed it over. Justin dipped it in a water glass and lovingly combed his hair.

"Where was I? Ahh yes…the greatest love…is the cleaning and care of one's feet…and shoes." Justin motioned for his blazer. Kiki handed it over with shaking hands. Justin lovingly put it on him and pulled the damp fabric until it was taut in all the right places and all the wrinkles were smoothed out. He used his fingers to scissor in creases in all the right places. "So…don't you agree?"

"I wouldn't know. Nobody loves me," Brian said callously, "And just who do you think you are? My fairy godfucker!? Leave me alone, for Chissakes!" He struggled free of the fussy, fairy, fixing fingers.

"Maybe so…It all depends…" he paused and waited.

Brian seriously considered leaving him hanging. But then…the little twink did just end up making him look like a Prince.

"On what?"

"On whether you get the account and meet me at Woody's tonight at 7," said Justin.

"Oh, no you don't! You wolf in twink's clothing! No more meeting you in the dark woods…I mean Woody's…I mean…"

Justin kissed him hard and hot. "Round three. It's up to you," he drawled suggestively. He patted him on the bum and stood him up and emptied his plate into a cardboard doggie bag. He added a few lemon bars to boot.

"And now…you'd better be off. If you don't hurry, you're going to be late for work. Hurry now! Hurry!"

And darned it, if Brian wasn't hustled out the door in a bum's rush! Before he even had time to register that he looked fantastic, tailored and polished, the door was ringing, he was on the sidewalk, the bell rang again as the door slammed behind him and he was on the cold and snowy street with his doggie bag and ad board. He barely had time to dodge out of the way before the door hit his ass on the way out. He'd gone in mad as a hatter and come out looking like a million bucks.

What the hell had just happened?

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

Meanwhile, inside, Justin took a deep breath and pasted on his most sunshine-ey smile and turned around to face a horde of hungry and now horny queers.

"So…who's first? What can I get someone?" he said sunnily.

Money appeared from everywhere and there was cacophony of thumps as many shoes in many feet angled out and hit the floor of the aisle.

Justin rolled his eyes and shook his head. This was going to be a looooong day.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

Little fucker.

Good goddammed if he wasn't right.

Shulmann's loved the ad. He loved the simplicity and it turned out Justin had read him like a book, artist to artist just by his shoes alone.

Shulmann signed on to his agency and gave him a contact. Moreover he called up Brown's and gushed about him a bit and in the end Brown gave him another contact as well

Of course, they were both shoe companies. Of course.

So, in the end, it was as if he was left with four pairs of shoes to work with.

TBC


	4. Seven with One Blow

Chapter 4

Seven with One Blow

That evening, almost against his will, Brian's feet took him out his door, into his Jeep, to Liberty Avenue, to Woody's. It was exactly 7 PM when he walked through the door.

Woody's seemed as dark as any woods and as creepy and fearsome as any respectable fairy tale forest with dozens of pairs of beady and greedy eyes gleaming with envy, lust and eyeshine. They were largely the same queers who had witnessed the spectacle this morning and those who hadn't, wished they had, and not just heard about it through the grapevine.

As usual, Brian ignored all the wanting eyes and fixated on the blue ones that that shone with sunshine and lit up the room. As usual he made his way over as if he didn't give a shit and ordered a Beam.

"Oh….hey there," he greeted Justin as if he'd just realized he was there.

Justin rolled his sky-blue eyes and said hello back. He had Brian's number now.

There were a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Sooooooo…" said Justin.

"So what?" asked Brian snidely.

"Soooo…I assume you're here to tell me everything went fabulously and that I'm a genius and you're ready for round three."

"Oh, you assume that do you?"

"Well?"

"Hold your breath. I'll be right back." Brian wandered off to the toilet with his drink. He was unsurprised when two bodybuilt Doublemint twins with fake tans and too white teeth followed him in.

He deliberately chose a stall at the edge but this didn't stop the Doublemint twins from flanking him on both sides.

"Hi," said one. "You're Brian Fucking Kinney."

"Brian…Fucking…Kinney," said Twin Two, his voice heavy with lust.

Brian was beginning to feel a little hemmed in but he swallowed that and breezed as if he didn't give a cat's crap, "I know who the fuck I am. So now that we've established that, who the fuck are you, and what do you want?"

"I'm Jared."

"I'm Jason."

"We're twins," they said in unison unnecessarily.

"I'm bored," said Brian. He took a sip of his Beam.

"We want you to fuck us," said Jared.

"_Both_ of us," said Jason.

Brian shook the dew off the lily and buttoned up. He went and washed his hands.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because you're Brian…_fucking_ Kinney. Word is that you'll fuck anything in a pair of low riders. Like these…" Jason pulled down his low riders even lower and hiked his shirt a bit showing impressive abs as he did.

Inside, Brian was impressed but outside he remained cold. "Well, you heard wrong. I only fuck who I want, when I want. No repeats. And as for you….I really don't want to touch such a rude motherfucker." He turned to leave.

A huge arm shot out of nowhere. It blocked his way and slammed against the door, blocking him from opening it.

"Look…I'm sorry for my brother…He can sometimes let his mouth run away from him. Come on, Kinney…Surely you've had a twin fantasy before. _Every_body loves twins." Jared ran a finger up Brian's ass crack with his other hand.

Brian gasped and shuddered. OK…A: That shouldn't feel that good and B: How dare he!?

Brian jerked away from the invasive hand only to collide with the one holding the door. Jared took that as invitation and wrapped it around his torso and reached into his shirt and pinched a nipple.

Brian twisted and struggled and was a little disturbed when he couldn't break free. "What the fuck! Hey leggo!"

Jared ignored him and moved his hands lower. "C'mon Kinney! Just relax! This'll go a lot easier if you're loosened up."

"What the hell are you talking about? Nothing…is going to go here. Let me go!"

"Little late for that, don't you think? Now that we've got you in our clutches," said Jason with an evil smirk. Brian decided he was the evil…well, eviler twin.

"In your clutches? What do you think this is? Some bad melodrama?" Brian sniped, struggling mightily but found he was indeed unable to break free of his burly molester.

Tamping down his rising fear, Brian leaned back into what otherwise would have been an awesome chest and stamped hard on the asshole's foot. Jared yowled in pain and Brian was able to break free and make a break for the door.

He got it open but before he could get through, Jason was upon him.

"HELP! HEELLLPP…uurkk!" he managed before getting drawn backwards and a huge forearm cut off his windpipe. Of course, nobody in the noisy bar heard or cared.

"Ohhhh….bad move. Guess we'll have to make this quick then," Jason whispered malevolently, as Brian watched the door swing shut in despair. "Not to mention, that little move is going to cost you!"  
>With evil laughter, Jason dragged him over to the wall by his upper arm and chokehold. Brian was powerless to resist as the side of his face was slammed into the stone wall of the bathroom. And again.<p>

Brian was only semi conscious by this time. He was past being frightened and was having ricochets of flashbacks to when he was beat up by his Dad. But this would be worse. He knew these two were going to rape him now.

But he had to try and delay the inevitable, whatever that was.

"Look," he said shakily, "How the hell do you plan to make this work? I'm a top and unless you boys are into some twincest weird shit, I can't figure out the positions!"

"Oh come on!" Jason sneered, "Haven't you ever been in a sandwich?"

"But that would mean…" Brian gulped.

"Yup!" confirmed Jason, still in super-villain mode.

"But I told you! I'm a total top! I don't like to get fucked!" Brian yelled. Jared just stood in front and gripped him in front whereas Jason had hold of him in the back. He shook his head slowly. "Not tonight," he said slowly. "Which side you want?" he asked his brother.

"Oh…I'm comfy…" he yanked Brian up against his muscled frame, …Right where I am."

Brian struggled mightily. "HEELLLP!" he screamed. Jason slammed him against the wall again.

"Shhhhhhh….." Jared warned Brian who was slumped over in semi-consciousness. He unbuttoned Brian's shirt. He reached under and groped him and started on the button to Brian's pants. Behind him, Brian could feel Jason's boner poking him in the butt.

It was at that moment that the door to the bathroom slammed open. Framed in the doorway, dressed in a blue V-neck sweater that matched his eyes and blue jeans, was a short, blond spitfire. His eyes flashed with righteousness and his mouth was a hard line.

"HEY! ASSHOLES! Let go….of the Stud…NOW!" yelled Justin authoritatively. His voice reverberated through the small room.

"And just who do you think you are!?" asked Jared.

"I'm the one he fucked twice. I'm the one he's going to fuck tonight! And I'm the one who's going to KICK your ASS for _daring_ to touch the Stud of Liberty Avenue without permission."

The bodybuilt twins just laughed and continued to feel up Brian. "I don't think so. Me and my twin have the strength of seven men! Join in or get out," said Jason.

Justin's mouth hardened into a point that wasn't thought previously possible. He marched right over there and grabbed Jason's wrist and twisted it to the breaking point and pressed a pressure point. Jason was driven to his knees with tears in his eyes.

"HEY! Whadd'ya think you're do'in?" yelled Jared, moving in. Justin smiled and waited. He simply grabbed Jared by the pinky and bent it backwards until Jared was on his knees.

"So, Brian! What shall it be? The short way? Or the _loooong _way?" Justin asked nastily.

"Just get me the hell out of here," Brian said shakily.

"Of course, hon," Justin knocked the twins heads together with a stunning blow. "A pity though…If I could count the times I've fantasized about twins….in that exact position….ahh well!"

He helped Brian over to the door. "Now, just a minute…" he said soothingly to the shellshocked Stud.

He turned around and met the twins who were rushing toward them like a whitewater river of hate. He spread his arms wide and met them exactly, clotheslining them both in the throat. They were both driven to the ground so hard that the ground shook.

"Well, look at that! Seven with one blow!" Justin smirked. The twins stared back at him in hate.

"Let's get out of here," Justin said as he opened the door and led Brian out.

Before they could escape entirely, Justin heard: "We'll get even! We know your names and we'll just hunt you both down! Then we'll see who's laughing! We'll get you and everyone you know…Justin Taylor!"

Justin sighed a long, slow, drawn out sigh, the kind you do when you are very, very tired, or very tired of something but you still have a long way to go.

"You go on out," he urged Brian, "I'll be right there. Oh….and make sure no-one else comes in here. That's very important."

"No….Justin…please…just…let's just get out of here. They're full of shit. I don't care. We'll…we'll call the cops."

"I would….But I have a mother and sister to think about. Don't worry. This'll just take a few minutes." He went back into the bathroom.

What exactly transpired in the next five minutes, Brian never really knew or found out.

There was a moment of silence. And then…

There was a thump. There was another thump. There were punching sounds and cries of pain. These escalated into the most horrible screams and cries and smashing and glass breaking and more punching that sounded like someone was tenderizing a big slab of steak. There were karate screams and unearthly ululations. And still the screams and cries for help and mercy and yells went on, as if someone was being horribly, horribly tortured.

This went on for five minutes. It seemed like five hours. Brian watched the door with wide eyes, hoping to God Justin was all right but against those two assholes…Brian feared the worst. As the noise went on and on, it attracted attention and others watched the door as well. A few die hard heroes made a move to go in there but Brian heeded Justin's words and just grasped them gently by the shoulder and slowly shook his head.

Finally, the screams petered out, there was a final shatter of glass and then silence. There was a pause.

The door opened and Justin stepped out. There was not a hair out of place, his V-neck was perfectly straight and he was clean and unscathed in any way. He came up to Brian and wrapped both arms around his waist in a proprietary way.

"Brian! Are you ok? Are you ready to go?" Justin asked concernedly.

"But…but….what the fuck….happened in there?" Brian asked.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Justin said. He threaded his hand through Brian's chestnut hair and bent down his head and angled it to meet his lips with his own. It was another proprietary move and Brian felt like he was being branded. He considered protesting.

Then he felt Justin's other hand slide downward and grab his ass. Brian gasped and then sighed in pleasure and relaxed against the blond's mouth. Justin smiled a little somewhere and grabbed his other buttcheek. Brian was in a haze of pleasure. Passion exploded as the men plundered each other's mouth. Brian grabbed Justin's ass. They stood there for a long while, their mouths speaking the language of love and their body language each saying loud and clear:

"This ass is MINE!"

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

Later, in the jeep, Brian carefully made sure the blond was buckled up and then himself when he drove away. His hands shook a little on the wheel. Justin covered one with his own but said nothing.

"So….what's going on…?" Brian asked.

"First…tell me what I want to hear," Justin said.

"Uhh….you're gorgeous?" Brian guessed.

"Mmmmmmmmm….That _is_ what every twink wants to hear," Justin admitted. "But no…what I want to hear, I've been holding my breath for ever since you went off to the bathroom to get fucked."

"Not by those cretins!" Brian yelled.

"No…..But that was your intention . You just got dealt a bad hand. Correct?"

"Yeah."

"So…" Justin waited smugly.

Brian sighed and rolled his eyes. "Annoying twat. Fine. The meeting went great. I have 4 accounts now. Brown and Shulmann's both gave me another contact. You're a genius. And…."

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeesss?" asked Justin batting his baby blues and giving him a powerful dose of angel eyes.

"And…and I haven't been dancing in three days thanks to you! I want to go to Babylon!"

"OK….Take me to Babylon," Justin yawned and laid his head on Brian's shoulder. "Oh…but don't you have anything for me to work on?"

"Actually….there are a few things I could use your opinions on," Brian downplayed. He was still up Shit Creek without a paddle in the shoe department. "But nothing that can't wait until tomorrow night. You deserve a night off from that stuff and I need to blow off some steam."

"OK…" Justin yawned noisily and pretended to be falling sleep.

"Oh no you don't, twat! Now, I want to know what's up with you!"

"What do you mean, Brian?" Justin asked innocently, "waking up".

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Those moves you put on me this morning! And the bathroom. I still don't know…I'm not sure I even want to know what you did to Tweedledee and Tweedledork!"

"Sometimes it's better if you listen to your instincts," Justin said.

"Justinnnnn…." Brian growled.

"Well, Brian, it's a long story. And not a pleasant one. How bout I tell you after Babylon?"

"Fine! But then I want the truth!"

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

After Babylon…

Brian felt much better. After downing a few Beams, dancing like a madman on the floor and sweating enough to feel as if he had lost several inches off his waist in that night alone, Brian felt much better. Especially after hitting the backroom as well. Brian had been unsurprised when a hot little hand had found his asscheek and a certain blond spitfire has shadowed him in there. What he didn't expect was Justin joining in. The trick they chose was in seventh heaven as he was driven to his knees and both his holes were filled.

Now it was about midnight and they stepped out onto the street once more. And it was right there that Brian stalled, planted his feet and refused to move with the tenacity that would make any mule proud.

"Brian, what's wrong?" Justin asked.

Now…you tell me now….or we don't go another step together."

Justin sighed. "Brian really! There isn't any reason for this…" he looked and saw that Brian was serious and moreover that it was important to him.

"Well….how do begin….Did you know that I saw you before? Before all this I mean? God, I guess it'd have to be like…a year ago."

"What? A year! What is this? Have you been stalking me?" cried Brian loudly.

"Brian…shhhhh! And of course not! It was only one night. It was right here, in fact. Do you see that lamp-post?" he asked pointing across the street.

"Yes, Mr. Tumnus," Brian answered, in English accent, with perfect inflection.

Justin ignored him. "Well, about a year ago I was standing there, looking across at Babylon wondering what it was like in there, wondering what anywhere was like. But of course I was too young to get in anywhere. I was just standing there, looking across at everything when you came out with your friends. You were all cold and tired. You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Our eyes nearly met. But just as you were about to see me, just as I was about to see you, a gust of wind ripped up Liberty Avenue. It was short but intense and it was so cold it hurt my forehead. I closed my eyes against it and so did you I think and when I opened them again, the moment had passed. Your friends were talking to you and you had walked a little ways down the street out of my line of sight. The lot of you got into your jeep. The jeep started. You drove off. You were gone." Justin paused in sad remembrance.

"All right. So we almost met. So what?"

"So nothing. Maybe everything. Maybe my life would have changed drastically if I'd met you As it was, nothing changed….Not really."

"What _did _happen?"

"I was 17 and alone on Liberty Avenue. What do you think happened? I stood looking after you for a few minutes and eventually a huge guy in black leather with a white beard propositioned me. He looked like Santa in black leather instead of red. He had come from….Meathook, I think. He asked me if I wanted to be his whipping boy. I turned tail and ran back to the bus stop from whence I came and got the first bus back home."

Brian chuckled at that. "Good place for you, little boy."

Justin shot him a look. "Maybe so. Maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was too young in stature to make it into the clubs but I was old enough to know what I wanted. I wanted dick. I wanted you. I wanted any man really. But you most of all. So the next night, I was all set to sneak to Liberty Avenue again. But I never made it. I was just sneaking down the hall when my dad opened the study door right beside me. I got caught. Well, of course part of the inquisition was where are you going? And why? And why _there_ of all places, as if there was the rankest slum ever. It made me so mad! So I told them. Well, my mother had hysterics. My father went ballistic and yelled for an hour how he wouldn't have a "fairy boy" under his roof. And a few other things I'd rather not mention. And well…the long and the short of it was that the next day I was shipped off to military school."

"That's rough," said Brian sympathetically.

"The school was rougher. However, I decided to make the most of my time there and enlisted in the dojo there. I told them I didn't want to handle firearms due to religious reasons and wanted to train my body instead. And after they saw how I took to it like a duck to water, they eventually left me alone. I trained in a form of martial arts called kata, which is a kind of melding of tae kwon do, shotokan, kung fu, wing-chun, aikido, tang-soo-do, judo, jiu-jitsu, boxing, and kickboxing. I trained non-stop for a year. When the year was up and I turned 18 I was black belt and told them I was leaving. The Dean….bless his soul…told me I was there until I was 21. I just smiled and showed him the certificate that my sensei had given me the day before. It declared that my body was now trained to be a lethal weapon of mass destruction. I was out the gates within the hour."

"I'll bet!" said Brian, impressed.

"So, I came home. My dad also thought I was there till I was 21. He looked at me like I was the cat come back, and was about as glad to see me as a bad case of hemorrhoids. But back I was and Molly at least was glad to see me and my Mom had surprised me by educating herself over the last year and joining PFLAG."

'Oh that's nice! I think I'd like your mom."

"Oh, I think you would too. We'll find out when you meet her."

"Whoa! Sorry sweetcheeks! I don't _do_ parents."

"We'll see….anyway, if you wanna hear the rest of it, can we at least head to the jeep now? I'm freezing."

Brian started a little and looked down at he blond shivering in his omnipresent jean jacket. Was that all he really had for the winter? Brian frowned and made a mental note somewhere. Out loud he said non-committedly, "Sure."

So they made their way back to the jeep and then home and Justin continued his story: "Well, my father yelled on and on about how he wasn't going to stand for it and he was calling the school and that he wouldn't have a fudge packing, fairy boy living under his roof. Oh….did I mention the bear?"

"Huh? No!" cried Brian, a bit confused at the sudden change in topic.

"Oh, sorry. Well, my father had gone out to the woods with some hunting buddies (alone in the woods with a bunch of dudes, now there's a straight activity!) and had shot this enormous grizzly bear. He had it stuffed. It's at least 7 feet tall, huge, and his pride and joy."

"OK…." Brian said slowly, unsure where this was going.

"Yes, well, I went over to it, kicked its head off, chopped both its arms off and punched my way through it in a matter of seconds. There was a hole in its chest the size of a basketball. Then I turned to my father and asked him if he still thought I was a fairy boy."

"What'd he say to that?"

"Not a thing. He just clammed up, went upstairs, packed a few suitcases and moved out."

They were driving home by this time. They both laughed uproariously.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J

A/N: May be some smut!…Enjoy!

When they entered the loft it was deep in the night and they were fused at the mouth.

SLAM! Went the loft door and…SLAM went Justin up against it. Brian ravaged his pink mouth and then separated briefly to rip that hated jean jacket off of him.

Justin was in a mindless trance of lust. He yanked Brian forward and pressed his lips to his and opened his mouth for more and Brian was only too happy to comply. Justin threaded his fingers through the brunet's chestnut locks, loving the feel and pressed him closer willing him to delve deeper, _be_ deeper even though it was impossible.

SLAM! And then to his surprise, Brian was whipped around with amazing strength and agility and slammed into his own door and now Justin was the aggressor. Usually, this would have been a turn off but tonight…tonight Brian was willing to let anything go for the little blond and besides that, knowing what Justin knew, what Justin was, it just made it…such a turn on. And so he let the blond manhandle him, strip of his coat with the same urgency and then unbutton his shirt.

Well, to his credit, he did try. But he was in such frenzy that he couldn't make his fingers work and in the end he just whispered, "I'll buy you a new one," and ripped it apart sending buttons pinging everywhere. Without really a plan he jumped up and at Brian's chest, which was nicely defined.

As if it were planned, Brian caught him round the legs and pulled him in and carried him over to the bed. He threw him down, and ravaged that sweet mouth again. Then he stripped them both of all clothing in record time.

Justin groaned as the boner he'd been sporting ever since they'd entered Babylon, finally sprung free of its denim prison. Brian snarled in satisfaction and anticipation and in one swift motion, opened his mouth, took a gulp and a breath and then engulfed it to the hilt.

"Oh God! Oh shit!" Justin yelled, as pleasure the likes of which he'd never felt before rocked him to his core.

Brian began a slow, torturously long blow job that had Justin's toes curling before very long. But he wouldn't let him cum. Every time Justin came close, Brian would back off, slap his belly, tweak a nipple extra hard until he yelled for mercy and then he'd start…. all… over….again.

Brian edged him 6 times. _Six times_! He wouldn't let him do anything except lie there. A few times Justin tried to get up, return the favor, touch him, _anything_! But Brian just pushed him back, held his wrists captive and threatened to tie him up. So Justin just lay there, moaned and groaned and writhed in utter enjoyment and ecstasy.

As Brian started on him for the seventh time, Justin yelled in torture.

By this time he was a mess. His golden locks were matted with sweat. He was absolutely frantic and he constantly writhed in Brian's restraining grip in complete and wanton horniness and desire. Some people will tell you those are the same thing. Justin now knew better.

"Brian! Please! I – I need to…I've just got to….You've just got to…"

"Yeeeeeessss!?" Brian came up for air with a Cheshire cat smile.

"Pleeaasssee…..Pllease let me cum!" Justin screamed and struggled against Brian's hand cuff but it was like iron.

"Well….I'll take that into consideration," Brian said in his most executive voice.

Justin writhed and bucked and moaned in ecstasy and agony.

"Like….HEEELLLLPPP!" he yelled in his best Shaggy imitation.

"Trust me, if Scoob and the gang ever found Shaggy in a trap like this one, they'd never get him out, "commented Brian, raising up briefly, "Did that guy _ever_ get laid?"

"I dunno," gasped Justin, wondering how he had come to having a discussion about animation during the best sex of his life.

Brian shrugged and bent down again. This time there was no stopping. Brian deep throated him, licked the tip, swirled his tongue in unheard of ways that justly named him the Stud of Liberty. Justin yelled in pure pleasure as sensations unlike anything he'd ever experienced flashed through him in a steady throb. The pleasure throbs grew faster and more intense as Brian speeded up. Faster and faster and yet still perfectly controlled to give Justin the maximum amount of pleasure, to cause those pleasure throbs to thrum through Justin's very soul. On a primal level, Brian knew he was binding the Goldilocks to him, branding him as his for all time. But he quickly ignored these thoughts and dismissed them. He didn't _do_ boyfriends.

But he did do Justin. He felt the boy's pulse in his wrists and knew his climax was close. This was confirmed when Justin yelled, "I'M GOOONNNAA CUMMMMM! AAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Brian deep throated him and drove Justin over the edge. His load was huge and sweet and Brian licked up every drop.

Justin's eyes rolled back into his head as pleasure that was pain coursed through his body and soul. His entire body bucked wildly and then spasmed several times as he came. He knew. He knew this was it. At 18…at such a young age, he had had the best sexual experience he would ever have. Anything after this, anyone after Brian would pale in comparison.

Brian rolled off of him, released him at last and licked his lips like a fat cat after a dish of cream. "You are delicious," he said. " And look at that….seven…times…with one blow!"

"Hold that thought!" gasped Justin. He rolled off the bed, ran to the toilet and peed like a racehorse.

But something had caught his eye on the way and when he came back he took a closer look. And what he saw thoroughly quashed the mood.

"Brian!" he ground out dangerously, "What the fuck is this?"

TBC

A/N: Yes…It's true! I AM evil!


End file.
