Title: Vice Versa
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Justin and Daphne are on the brink of becoming parents when Brian enters the picture. An angst-free little AU, comprised of equal parts canon and non-canon. How many twists can you spot, accounting for the title?
A/N: Many thanks to techgirl_on_ij for rising above and beyond the call of a normal beta,
without whose help this fic would literally not have been possible, and whose porny brain rescued it from dullness in several instances.
VICE VERSA - CHAPTER FOUR
Brian kisses Justin under the steamy spray, more than sufficiently convinced of his fondness for bottoming. Especially in the shower! Pulling back a little, he grins at him. "What did you use to wipe up your come this morning?"
"A dirty towel from your hamper. What about you?"
"An old sponge I was gonna throw away."
"I just couldn't help it, Brian. That's the best surprise anyone's ever given me."
"Yeah, well, I couldn't help it, either. Your bare cock in those tight pants was fucking hot!"
"Guess we're lucky, huh?" Justin leaves soft little kisses along Brian's wet chest, his arms crawling up around his neck. "Me hanging out under that streetlight and you picking me up for a quick fuck. Must be fate." Searching Brian's face, he thinks he might see forever.
Brian interlaces his fingers together behind Justin's back, peering into the eyes of the most courageous soul he's ever known. Someone for whom honesty is the root of all things, their common denominator. "You were pretty fucking brave to show up over here that second night after what Mikey told you about me. Seeing how crushed you were when I turned you away really made me stop and think. I'd never given a damn about anyone else's feelings but my own up until that very minute. Hell, I wasn't even aware that it had a name. It was only later I realized it's called caring."
"Before you fucked that ugly guy you had in here, or after?"
Brian laughs, shaking his head. "During, actually. I couldn't stop thinking about you." He reaches up to turn off the water and grabs two towels from the rack, handing one to Justin and fastening the other around his waist.
"That must be why you didn't mind me stalking you in Woody's and following you to Babylon the third night." Justin runs the towel over his face and hair before he smiles up at Brian. "I'm sly like that."
"Good thing you're the persistent type." Brian playfully smacks Justin's ass before he steps out of the shower and crosses his bathroom, where he stops to study himself in the mirror above the sink. He pulls Justin into his arms after Justin wraps his towel around himself and follows. "I . . . I don't even know what you're doing to me. I only know that I've become a completely different person since I met you. Sometimes I feel like I'm eighteen again, too. Like I'm just starting my life."
Justin lowers his head, focusing on the very same square of tile he'd wiped clean four hours earlier. Then his eyes slowly find their way back up to Brian's. "I've never met anyone like you, Brian. My friends Tyler and Jake from St. James are gay, but they're both so boring. I was starting to think I'd be living my whole life alone. Well, I've got Daphne and Missy, but . . . " He ponders the floor again. "I thought I'd never find someone to . . ."
"Look at me." Brian places two fingers under Justin's chin, gently lifting it until their eyes meet again. Gazing at him as if no one else in the world exists, their mode of communication transcends the spoken word. He slides his palm around to the nape of Justin's neck and draws him in for a lingering kiss.
Brian still does his very best communicating that way.
. . . . .
Daphne opens the sliding glass door and steps out onto her back porch, where Justin's smoking a cigarette and finishing up his phone conversation with Brian. "Hey, sorry to interrupt you, but can you listen for Missy while I go to the store for diapers? I just put her down a few minutes ago."
"Hang on, Brian." Justin looks at Daphne, one side of his face scrunched up. "We're out of diapers already? I just bought a case of them."
"That was two and a half weeks ago, and I just put the last one on her. According to my calculations, we've got anywhere from one to three hours before she wakes up soaked, dirty, or both, needing another one."
"Our little poop machine. What would we do without her?"
Justin and Daphne hear Brian laughing on the other end of the phone, coming to the simultaneous conclusion that he hasn't changed nearly enough diapers for someone who claims the only reason he stops by the apartment so often is to see the baby and bring her little toys. They plan to remedy that in a hurry.
"I'll get the diapers," Justin tells Daphne. "I still need to pick up all the drinks and ice for my mom's barbeque tomorrow."
"You sure?" Daphne reaches for Justin's cigarette, happy when he doesn't refuse to hand it over. "Well, if you were going anyway . . . Now I don't have to miss my show."
"Just one drag, Daph. You shouldn't start smoking again while you're still breast-feeding Missy."
"I know." Daphne's never enjoyed a lungful of tar and nicotine as much as the one she savors before slowly exhaling. "Why did we take up this filthy habit in high school anyway?" Handing the cigarette back, she goes inside and turns on What Not To Wear.
Justin laughs and mashes it out in his ashtray. "Hear that, Brian? I can't believe she goes through diapers so fast. I'm gonna have to make a run to the store."
"As long as you don't wear your leather pants. They're only for me to see on you."
"You've made that abundantly clear on a daily basis for the last three months. I only wear them for you. I promise."
"That's my boy. Do you guys still want me to go with you to the barbeque tomorrow?"
"Of course! Just come over around noon and we'll leave." Justin wiggles his feet back into his Nikes without untying them and goes inside to get his wallet.
"Okay. Buy the little princess her Pampers and I'll see you at noon."
"We're using Huggies now. They're more absorbent. See ya." Dropping his phone in his pocket, Justin grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and walks over to Daphne in the living room. "Anything else we need from the store?"
Daphne turns the volume down on the TV. "I can't think of anything right now. Justin?"
"Don't worry about tomorrow. Our parents are going to love Brian as much as we do."
"God, I hope so." Justin sighs, swiping a hand through his hair. "I'm just kind of worried about your mom and dad. They've always known about me, but they've never seen me with anyone. Hell, even my mom and Molly. When they see me with Brian, I don't know what's gonna happen."
"Would you relax? He's the coolest, most handsome guy on the planet. And he's nuts about you. Everyone's gonna be happy for you."
Justin leans down toward her in the rocking chair and kisses her forehead. "This is why I love you, Daphne."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm wonderful." Squeezing his hand, she grins at him and turns the volume back up. "Can you go get the diapers now?"
. . . . .
"Ma? Anybody home?" Brian lets himself into Debbie's house, jangling his keys in the air and shutting the door louder than necessary. He's learned the hard way that she doesn't like people sneaking up on her when she's running water in the sink or rattling pots and pans around. "Ma? It's me. It smells great in here!"
"Fuck, Brian!" Deb says into the oven, checking the casserole dish inside. "I'm not deaf. Why the hell are you shouting?" She closes the oven door and turns to face him, thick red splotches dotting her apron. "Hi, baby."
"Christ! Sparring with the marinara sauce again? Looks like there wasn't any left to put in the lasagna."
"Hey, just wait till you taste it. Then tell me I don't know what I'm doing!"
Brian holds his palms up in front of his chest. "Truce, okay? I'm sure it'll be mouth watering, as always. Thanks for doing this for me."
"Sit." Debbie goes back to the kitchen table to finish her coffee. "It'll be ready in about ten minutes. Did you tell them you're bringing something?"
"No. I've only met them once before. Just don't want to show up empty-handed, you know?" Reaching into the cabinet for a mug, he pours himself some coffee and sits across from her at the table. "Contrary to public opinion, I wasn't raised in a barn."
"Of course, you weren't." Debbie pats the back of his hand. "Now that you quit fucking everything that moves, you're a regular Prince Charming. Justin's a lucky guy. I've seen you two eating lunch in the diner every afternoon for months now. You love him, don't you?"
"Jesus, Ma!" Brian recoils away from her touch, his eyes darting around nervously. "That's an awfully strong word! Why did you have to say that?" His chair screeches on the floor when he bolts up out of it and dumps his hardly-sipped coffee down the drain. "Don't you need to check the lasagna? What if it's burning?"
"Brian, I just checked it. It needs ten more minutes. What are you so afraid of?"
"What am I so afraid of?" He makes a huge ordeal out of rinsing his mug and putting it in the dishwasher. "Fuck! I hate this!" Pacing over to the back door, he stares through the upper windowpane into the yard, slowly shaking his head. "I have no fucking clue how to tell him, Deb, and that scares me to death. I've never loved anyone before. Well, besides Mikey. I'll always love Mikey, but we're like family for Christ's sake! This thing with Justin is so different. I can't even put it into words."
"That's exactly what love does. Tongue-ties you and confounds you. Overwhelms you with emotions you never knew you had. Kicks your ass up and down the street until you let it in." Debbie's voice softens, a bit of wistfulness creeping in. "We've all been there."
"I haven't." Brian finally turns away from the window, eyeing the one person who knows him better than he knows himself. "Been running from it my whole life. Never thought it would ever waste its time on someone like me." Hanging his head, the kitchen linoleum is suddenly the most interesting thing in the house. "Someone who . . . doesn't deserve it."
Debbie mentally curses the miserable childhood Brian had and his poor excuses for parents who caused it. She's lost count of how many cuts and bruises she'd tended to on his body over the years, not to mention the internal scars she tried to nurse. "Brian, listen to me." Getting up and nearing him at the back door, she stands toe to toe with her practically-adopted son. "Your father's alcoholism and all the pain it brought on you have no business keeping you from a full and loving life. You're an adult now. You either choose to let it keep fucking with your head, or you choose to liberate yourself from it." Pausing for effect, she saves the best for last. "If I ever hear you say you don't deserve to be loved again, I'm gonna personally beat the shit out of you. Any fat lip your father ever gave you is gonna look like child's play when I'm through with you. Do you hear me?"
Brian finds himself entangled within her arms, still the safest place he's ever known. He sighs and hugs her back. "Yes, Mom."
"That's better, baby. You'll figure it out. Justin will help you." Unhanding him, she grabs her pot holders and takes the lasagna out of the oven. "You'll know when the time is right to tell him."
"What if he doesn't love me?"
"Oh, yeah. I forgot." She rolls her eyes, setting the pan on the counter. "The way he touches your arm when you're picking at your turkey sandwich. That look on his face when you're done fucking him in the diner's bathroom. The way he trusts you with that daughter of his. Maybe he doesn't love you."
. . . . .
"Oh, my God, Justin! There's your dad!" Daphne spots Craig Taylor driving away from Jennifer's house after dropping Molly off, pointing to his car from the backseat of Justin's Explorer. "Do you think he saw us?"
"I hope not. He hates me. I haven't seen him since he walked out on us three years ago." Justin pulls into his mom's driveway and hits a button to open the back cargo door before he cuts the engine. Turning to Brian in the passenger seat, he wills the still-stinging hurt away. "What about you? Did coming out to your parents drive a wedge between them so deeply that their marriage ended in divorce, too?"
"Um, no?" Brian meets Justin behind the car, reaching in and lifting a Pyrex casserole dish of freshly baked lasagna out of its large to-go container, all thanks to the ever-helpful supermom Debbie Novotny.
"See? That's how it should be. I can understand needing a little time to get used to the idea, but Jesus! It's not like I told them I'm an ax murderer or anything." Justin takes the collapsible stroller out and unfolds it for Daphne, who's unbuckling Missy's car seat straps and fussing with her hair and clothes. "How old were you when you told your parents?"
"My parents?" Brian winces. "The hopeless sot and the martyred saint? It's not any of their business where I stick my cock. I mean, where I used to stick my cock." He swallows hard and smirks at Justin. "Before I started sticking it only in you."
Justin's eyebrows raise halfway into his forehead. "They don't even know you're gay?!" Waiting until Daphne lays Missy in her stroller, he hikes an ice chest full of beer and soda out of the car and closes the back door. "That's incredible, Brian."
"Hey, I didn't grow up like you did. Doting parents . . . private schools . . . country-club lifestyle . . ." Brian follows Justin and Daphne as they make their way around the side of the house. "For me, it was pretty much survival from one day to the next in a horrible environment. A disclosure like that would have meant even more abuse."
"God, Brian. I guess Justin and I don't realize how good we had it when we were younger. Our problems were nothing compared to yours." Daphne looks at her best friend and laughs. "Remember that month in eighth grade when we both liked the same guy? We thought that was the end of the world!"
"Billy Hauser?" Justin laughs with her. "We were praying he was bi so we could share him."
"Justin! Daphne!" Molly runs across the backyard to open the gate for her brother and his entourage when she sees them walking up. "Mom!" she squeals at the top of her lungs. "They're here! They're here!" Flinging herself at Daphne, she hugs her around the waist so hard it knocks them both off balance for a minute. "I miss you so much, Daph. How come you never come over to play with me anymore? Can I push the baby? Pleeease?"
"Slow down, Molly," Justin warns. "You have to pay attention. And stay away from the pool. On second thought-"
"It's okay." Daphne hugs Molly back, remembering the days when she and Justin would ditch their pesky shadow whenever they had a chance. "I'll watch her."
Justin looks at Molly. "But you gotta be careful. Just push her over to Mom and Mrs. Chanders. I'm sure they can't wait to get their hands on her. And I want you to meet Brian. Brian, this is my little sister, Molly."
"I know, I know. He's your boyfriend!" the precocious soon-to-be fifth-grader singsongs, crossing her eyes. "Mom told me all about it. You met him just before Missy was born." Steering her baby niece toward the patio, she tilts her head way, way up, looking Brian in the face. "You're tall."
"Thank you. Yes. Yes, I'm tall, but that in no way detracts from my marvelous personality."
Molly checks him out with the inherent wisdom every ten-year-old possesses. "Well, you can't be that marvelous if you like my brother. Do you know that Justin used to pick his nose when he thought no one was watching? And that he got suspended from school one time for flipping his teacher the bird? And that-"
"Shit, Molly! What the fuck?!"
"-our mom is always mad at him for cussing in front of me?"
Justin bends his knees and drops the ice chest he'd been lugging onto the ground. "What do you think she'll do to me when I lock you in the attic and don't tell anyone where you are?"
"Mom! Justin's being mean to me again!"
"Okay, that went well." Brian presses his lips together. "Do you think she likes me?"
"Oh, here's our sweet little thing! Let Grandma hold you." Daphne's mom lifts Missy out of her stroller and then sits back down at the picnic table, cuddling her grandbaby in her arms. "She's getting so chubby! Did they let you push her, Molly? You're such a good aunt."
"Hey, you made it." Jennifer smiles at everyone. "Come and sit down."
Justin kisses his mom on the cheek and gives Dorothy a quick hug. "You guys remember Brian?"
"Uh-huh." Dorothy looks away from Molly and Missy to wave at him. "We met at the hospital."
"I'm so glad you could join us, Brian. This looks delicious!" Jennifer eyes the casserole dish when he hands it to her.
"My mom made some of her famous baked lasagna for you. You can freeze it for later."
Dorothy grins at Jennifer. "We love lasagna!"
"Yeah, you can come over any time!" Jennifer peels a tiny corner of tin foil back and smells the spicy aroma of someone's Italian kitchen. "In fact, when can you move in? Do you think your mom would cook for us?"
"Hi, Mr. Chanders." Justin walks over to Daphne's dad at the table, pulling Brian by the hand. "I want you to meet Brian Kinney. Brian, this is Roy Chanders, Daphne's father."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Chanders." Brian shakes his hand.
"Call me Roy. No need for all this formality. And Justin, you just about grew up in our house. I keep telling you, I feel so old when you call me Mr. Chanders."
"You're not old, Daddy!" Daphne gives her father a hug and a kiss. "Jen, can I put her bottles in the fridge?"
"Sure. I just hope you can find some room in there." Jennifer pries Molly away from Missy. "Go with Daphne and make room in the refrigerator for the baby's bottles. I'll put this lasagna in the freezer."
"You don't drink beer, Dorothy, right?" Justin reaches into the ice chest. "Can I bring you a Pepsi?"
"That sounds good. So how's Missy doing with the formula? Daphne doesn't breast-feed her anymore?"
Justin hands a can of beer to Roy and Brian and keeps one for himself. "She still does at night." Opening the soda, he gives it to Dorothy before he and Brian finally sit. "But we usually make her formula during the day. Daphne says it really helps now that I can feed her, too."
Smiling at her babbling granddaughter, Dorothy laughs when she gets cute little goo's and gaa's in return. "She certainly likes to be held, doesn't she? I'm going to talk to Daphne about getting a breast pump. Then you can give the baby a bottle and it'll still be breast milk."
Justin takes a swig of his beer. "Yeah, we saw one of those when we were buying all the baby stuff, but Daphne said there's no way she'd ever use it."
"So, Brian . . . what line of work are you in?" Roy doesn't need to hear about his daughter's breasts. "I'm in sporting goods."
Brian turns to Roy, a tad relieved for the change of subject himself. "Advertising. I'm an account exec with the Ryder Agency, downtown on Third Street.
"Seriously?" Roy sits up straighter. "I'm the general manager of The Sports Authority here in Southern Hills and at the central Pittsburgh location, too. We just picked up a new line of athletic clothing and a new running shoe that need some kind of promotion other than our routine ads. I've heard Ryder's the best. I should persuade the big brass to go with you guys."
"I think you'd like our firm. We don't rest until our clients are completely satisfied with our campaigns. And we employ the most brilliant and creative minds in the business."
"Well, you guys should come up with a brilliant and creative way to market the Mother's Helper Breast Pump." Justin reaches into the plastic bowl of chips on the table. "Because it totally turned Daphne off."
"What turned me off?" Daphne wrinkles up her nose, coming back outside with Jennifer and Molly at that very second.
"Hey, Brian, why don't we go start that barbecue?" Roy stands up, making a quick escape from the breast pump conversation the only thing on his mind. He grabs two more beers out of the ice chest and tosses one to Brian on their way to the built-in unit across the yard.
"I did that on purpose," Justin whispers to Dorothy. "It's so great they have something in common."
She winks at him. "I know you did."
Daphne confirms her aversion to such a torturous device after Justin explains the reason for the guys' hasty retreat, Jennifer answering Molly's questions one by one. They've always been an open family.
"I think we're far enough away from the baby out here to have a smoke." Roy's been eyeing Brian's cigarettes in his shirt pocket since they met. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra one of those, would you?"
"I do." Brian reaches into the pack.
"Thanks. I'm trying to quit, but Dorothy knows I can't resist once in awhile. You're going to join me, aren't you?"
"I guess so. I didn't think Justin smoked around his mom, so I wasn't going to, either." Brian lights up and hands his matches to Roy.
"Justin?" Roy snickers under his breath. "He and Daphne have been smoking since they were juniors at St. James. They used to sneak up in Daphne's tree house with their cigarettes until Molly caught them one day and tattled to Jennifer."
Brian exhales a long plume of smoke and shakes his head. "Sisters."
"We didn't go off on them, though. They're good kids. Never gave us any trouble. Earned straight A's every semester at that parochial school . . . both of them. We figured if they only had that one vice, we were lucky. They always had good judgement."
"Good judgement." Brian nods, mulling that one over. "How tough was it to wrap your heads around their lack of it when Daphne turned up pregnant? If you don't mind me asking."
Roy reflects on the unexpected events of the past year. Not only the shocking news but also how it played out. Now that Missy's here, he wouldn't change a thing. "I'm not going to lie. We were all flabbergasted when they told us. Justin was the last person we ever would have suspected as the father because . . . well, because he'd been out for so long, you know? But evidently, it was all Daphne's idea. She coaxed him into it." Glancing over at the patio, Roy sees Missy's daddy gently bouncing her and patting her back, the baby's cries quieting down a moment later. "It was hard to blame him. And he's taken full responsibility for his actions. Financially and every other way imaginable. They're young, but I think they're smart enough to handle the challenges of raising a child. And they're committed to doing it together."
Brian grins. "I'd say they're both very special people."
Roy looks Brian in the eye and smiles back at him. "They are." Dropping his cigarette butt into his empty beer can, he switches on the gas grill.
. . . . .
"Come on, guys. We still have plenty left." Jennifer points to the uneaten hamburgers and hot dogs on a tray in the middle of the table as her guests are finishing up their meals. When will she ever stop overestimating how much food to make? "You're so good with Missy, Brian. Do you have younger siblings?"
Brian throws a cloth diaper over his shoulder and shifts the baby into an upright position. "I have one sister who's three years older than me. Missy's the only baby I've ever been around, but as you can see, she kind of likes me."
"Bah gah," Missy gurgles against his collar bone, provoking peals of laughter from everyone.
"I wanna hold her now! Can I? Can I?" Molly gets up and skips over to her brother, pleading her case impatiently. "Justin, please?"
"Okay, but go sit down and Brian will put her in your lap. You can't be so fidgety." Justin tosses his napkin onto his empty paper plate and follows Molly back to her place at the table, standing beside her while Brian lays the baby in her arms. "Don't worry," he tells Daph. "I'll stay by them."
Jennifer and Dorothy start bringing the leftover food inside just as Brian excuses himself to look for the restroom. "Up the stairs and to the left," they direct him when he roams through the kitchen. "The powder room down here is being remodeled."
"So I guess her grandmas can fight over whose turn it is to have her when you guys start college in a few weeks?" Roy smiles down at his granddaughter in Molly's lap. "Are you still on track for art school, Justin?"
"Yeah, I can hardly believe I got into PIFA."
"That's an expensive place."
"It is. But I've received a partial scholarship, and I'll finance the rest with my inheritance. It won't be a problem." Justin reaches back across the table and grabs his bottled water. Taking a drink, he looks at Roy. "I've been meaning to talk to you about Daph's tuition at Pitt. I'd like to pay it and her med school, too, if you're okay with that. My grandmother left me an enormous sum. Our educations, and Missy's when the time comes, are covered, along with anything else the three of us will ever need."
"Four years of premed is no cheap endeavor, Justin. And med school afterward? I don't think you know what you're offering."
"Daphne wants to be a doctor. I want to be an artist. I'm just making it possible for us to reach our goals."
Roy's always wondered how he'd swing Daphne's medical degree. He waits while Justin helps his little sister get a safer hold on the baby, then he stands up and shakes his hand. "Thank you."
. . . . .
Brian steps out of the bathroom and wanders down the hallway till he finds Justin's room. Well, what used to be Justin's room. Unoccupied for months, it's still home to the many drawings tacked up on its walls and sketchbooks piled on its furniture. Quietly entering, Brian's drawn over to the bed by a particularly interesting self-portrait that's lying there, just begging to be examined more closely.
Carefully picking it up, he admires Justin's remarkably accurate likeness. His golden hair, highlighted with streaks that look as if they've been painted on with a brush dipped in white. His matching gold eyebrows, arching above smallish almond-shaped eyes the color of blue Dresden china. Justin's made it through puberty with the same perfect complexion he was born with, yet Brian likes how the smattering of chicken pox scars etched into it only enhance the character of his face.
The light hue and fine texture of Justin's beard make it all but impossible to detect, both in the portrait and in reality. Unless, of course, you're Brian. In that case, the slight sandpapery feel of his jawline rubbing against yours when you kiss him awakens in your marrow every single reason that you're gay. Every time. Without fail.
Still studying the self-portrait in his hands, the door clicking shut and locking jars Brian out of his reverie. Slowly raising his head, he sees Justin walking toward him.
Justin comes face-to-face with the man he never wants to be without. "What are you doing in here?"
He could have asked the same question from the other side of the room with the door open. But Brian thanks his fucking lucky stars that he didn't.
"Waiting for you." Pure and simple honesty in a hushed, velvety tone. Brian's eyes flutter to a close when Justin rises on tiptoe and presses their lips together. He can't help but think of the naive kid in his loft, the one who morphed into a giant mass of sexual hormones the instant their lips first met. Now kissing the sensual being he's created, Brian slips a hand between them and unzips Justin's fly.
Sinking to his knees, he sucks Justin's cock until he's so hard it hurts. Then he lightly licks all around the engorged head, tickling its swelled up ridge with the tip of his tongue.
"God, Brian . . . What you do to me . . ." Madly aroused, Justin utters sentence fragments with ragged breaths. "That feels . . . You're gonna make me . . ."
Brian laps up the beads of moisture oozing from Justin's slit, teasing him a little longer before he takes his entire shaft into his mouth. He buries his face in Justin's pubic hair and deep-throats him over and over, sucking him off into a shuddering orgasm. Envisioning the thirty ways he's going to rim and ram his boy as soon as they get somewhere else, Brian eases back up and feeds him a mouthful of come.
Sucking on Brian's tongue, Justin tastes his own creamy liquid and swallows it down. Placing his palms on Brian's chest a moment later, he gives him a gentle shove. He smiles at him when Brian finds himself staring at the ceiling, flat on his back on the bed.
Justin plucks a condom from the pocket of his cutoffs and wiggles out of them, then he undoes Brian's jeans and slides them down his thighs, freeing his stiffening dick. Slowly jerking him a few times, he covers him with the condom and lubes his own hole, piercing himself with Brian's cock as he straddles him and lowers his ass.
Brian lets Justin set the pace in fear of hurting him, not surprised when his steady up and down movements turn rapid and erratic in a matter of minutes. Watching Justin fuck himself on his rock-hard dick, Brian makes sure to stab his prostate with every thrust. A tingling in his balls soon drives him to slam upward into Justin's body one last time, shooting his load while Justin clasps his throbbing cock and jacks himself off.
Both gasping quietly, they cling together when Brian sits halfway up, kissing and grinning and kissing again. Gradually growing still, neither can tear his eyes from the other's, a volume of unspoken feelings passing between them.
Until Justin breaks the silence. "Brian?"
"I, um, I . . ."
Brian's heart palpitates in his chest. Maybe he does deserve to be loved.
"I got come on your shirt. Now it's smished on mine, too. We can't go back downstairs like this."
"I think my old come towel is still . . ." Justin lifts himself off of Brian's dick and leans over the side of the bed while Brian ties off the used condom. "Yep. Here it is. Right where I left it." Pulling a square of terry cloth out from under the bed, he wipes at their stained shirts.
"Jesus." Brian winces. "How long has that thing been under there?"
"Since I was twelve. But I think my mom kept washing it and putting it back 'cause every Saturday it smelled like fabric softener."
"This is one fucked up family you've got here. In a positive, life affirming way!"
Justin pulls Brian into the room's adjoining bathroom, where the few toiletries he didn't take when he moved into the apartment still litter the vanity. Cleaning up and combing their hair, they each swish a little Scope around in their mouths and spit it out.
"You go downstairs first. I'm gonna get some of my old sketchbooks to bring home with me."
"Right. We don't want anybody thinking we were up here fucking or anything." Brian kisses Justin's forehead and walks out into the hall. Heading for the staircase, he hears Justin's voice wafting out of the bedroom.
"They already think that."