It had been exactly seven hours since Brian had dropped Justin off at the airport. After his little drama queen episode, Brian had retrieved the sling and put the damn thing back on. He took a much needed pain pill and laid down to watch some old movies in an attempt to occupy his mind. By the time the phone rang, he had worked his way to watching Yellow Submarine. When he saw the area code on the caller ID, he immediately turned it off as if he’d been doing something that he shouldn’t have been doing. Well, it seemed logical. He huffed at himself and tossed the remote onto the table as he answered the phone.
“Miss me already?” he asked, forgoing the standard hello.
“I made it,” Justin replied, and Brian could’ve sworn that he was able to hear the self-satisfied smile from across the wire.
“No shit,” Brian said smugly. Old habits die hard. There was silence… no response, and Brian pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call was still connected. It was, so that left only one reason for the silence. He was being an ass. He cleared his throat and changed his tone, “So how is it?”
“Um, pretty cool,” Justin answered and Brian was relieved that it had worked. “Brett had a limo pick me up the airport. It was exciting, but…” Justin paused, his voice trailing off.
Brian was beginning to really hate the ‘buts’. “Buuuutttt…?” he asked anyway. That self-sacrificing trait still firmly intact.
“Kind of intimidating, too. Brett’s driver is British and so proper and stuff. He opened the door for me and called me Mr. Taylor or Sir.”
“Awww. Little Sunshine getting treated like the princess he is,” Brian smirked.
“Fuck you. I’m not a princess,” Justin argued back.
“Okay fine,” Brian huffed. “Why was Prince Justin intimidated then?”
“His name is Shane and he’s like my age. And fucking hot. His looks and the way he talks. And the car was huge. You could put twenty of me in there.”
“Oooh, a blond boy orgy. Do I get an invitation?”
Justin ignored the comment as if Brian hadn’t even said anything. He was obviously bothered by something. “I don’t know, it was weird, the whole thing. The driver, the accent, the etiquette, the car.”
“Hmm. Hot driver, huge car. And this was a problem? For you? I taught you better than that. Besides, the etiquette and shit shouldn’t be a problem either. You were born and bread in gentile, country club suburbia or have you been slumming on Liberty Avenue so long that you forgot your roots?”
“It made me hard,” Justin admitted shyly and Brian laughed. He was starting to get the picture. Nerves.
“So you jacked off in the back of the limo? Christ, Justin, I thought you’d grown out of your spontaneous erection phase ages ago?” Brian was still laughing.
“No, I didn’t. I mean, I did. Shit. But I didn’t jerk off. I swear.” He paused then sighed. “But fuck, Brian, I really wanted to. We drove by Venice Beach and god, the men there were all in these really tiny swim suits and their bodies… shit. It was really hot. And there were even artists, like real artists, right there on the beach, displaying their work and drawing new stuff.”
“You’re a real artist, Justin. You got into PIFA… one of seventy, out of how many? Brett hired you and you have a comic book that’s being… Fuck. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s a fucking beach and if those ‘real artists’ were really worth a damn, they’d have your job, not wasting away in the hot California sun, peddling their art on the street corner. You know how I feel about that shit.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well?”
“Then we drove down Hollywood Boulevard and the Sunset Strip. It was so… just wow. You know? Different and unlike anything I’d seen before. I felt like I did when I first went to Liberty Avenue. Everyone was either super scary or extremely beautiful.”
“Ah, well you should fit right in.”
“Brian,” Justin scolded.
“What? You’re not hot? You’re hot, Justin. Not to mention the fact that you’re blond… with a great ass. The perfect California dude, I’d say.”
“Yeah, I know,” Justin admitted and Brian smirked into the receiver. “But I’m not scary.”
“Bullshit. Scared the fuck out of me.” Justin smiled but didn’t say anything. “I thought I was going to have to hire a fucking security guard. Terrorized by a teenaged stalker. It was like a bad horror movie or something. Ev-ery-where I turned…”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Brian.”
“Fine,” Brian huffed. “I didn’t really want to talk to you anyway. Talking is so overrated and I’m right in the middle of watching CSI.” Brian glanced up at the blank television screen, it wasn’t even on. He knew what Justin was trying to tell him and here he was, dismissing it. But he felt he had to. He had to get Justin’s mind off the fact that he was all alone in a big city with no family and no real friends. A scary thing for anyone, but especially Justin who was only twenty and had never even lived on his own before. AND who just admitted that he was feeling like he did that first night. And Brian knew full well what that feeling was… fucking terrified. “So they find this woman’s head out in the desert,” he lied. “I don’t know where the fuck the rest of her body is…”
“Brian… will you stop?” Justin broke into Brian’s ramblings. “Listen to me.” Brian didn’t say anything. “Brian?”
“I’m listening.”
“Oh, right,” Justin laughed. “I’m staying in Brett’s guesthouse in West Hollywood. It’s really nice. It’s kind of small, but it has everything I need. It actually makes everything more safe and cozy because it kind of encloses around me. Too much open space and I think I’d feel uncomfortable. Ehhh, never mind, I’m just being stupid.”
“You were never uncomfortable at the loft,” Brian interrupted.
“That’s because you were there.” Justin breathed into the silence. He knew Brian didn’t know what to say. He swallowed. “The city’s really big, Brian.”
“More clubs to party in,” Brian sighed, trying to sound uninterested when in actuality he hated hearing Justin like this. But it was just the first day and he’d only been there an hour at the most. He knew Justin would do fine. If he did nothing but sit around that small and confined guesthouse, he wouldn’t experience all that Hollywood had to offer and then he’d be kicking himself for it later. Brian didn’t want this to be a repeat of Justin’s adventure into New York City where he stayed in the hotel the whole time. Justin had guts. Always had. Of course, he’d never been three thousand miles away from home before.
“There’s a lot of people here but I don’t know anybody. They’re all strangers. It’s overwhelming.”
“Um, more men to fuck. More to choose from. Unlimited possibilities!” Brian squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to conjure up the Justin that had walked the streets of Liberty Avenue all alone. The one that stopped under that streetlight and said, ‘I’m going with him.’ The one that applied to PIFA because he believed he was good enough. The one that banged on the loft door after being released from the hospital. That Justin. And get his mind onto something else. Men. Fucking.
“Yeah, I guess,” Justin agreed weakly. “Brian?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m still hard,” he whispered into the phone.
Brian grinned. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” Fear did have an upside… sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next week and a half, Justin’s phone calls became more and more informative and less and less melodramatic. He was telling Brian all about his job, the movie and all the hot gossip that he’d heard about the Hollywood scene. He was working in the Art Department but it wasn’t at one of the major studios. Brett’s production company had an office downtown and that’s where Justin went to work everyday. Things weren’t very organized in Justin’s eyes and it frustrated him.
For one, the script kept undergoing changes and Justin suddenly had a lot more appreciation for the simplicity of Rage getting produced with whatever Michael and Justin had agreed upon. There wasn’t anyone else sticking their noses in to make suggestions or rather demand suggestions in that Hollywood political way. That was clearly not the case here. Changes were rampant and every change meant they had to re-do any storyboards that were effected. Justin didn’t understand why they didn’t just wait until the script was done and final before they worked on the boards but Brett explained, with a chuckle, that scripts were never done and final. Not until the scene was actually filmed and even then sometimes things still happened. “That’s Hollywood,” Brett said.
Justin had a lot to learn and he loved it. It came through in his voice. Brian was always amused at Justin’s business musings, but occasionally wondered why he never mentioned going out and having some fun or just getting laid. He hoped that didn’t mean Justin was sitting around because he was too scared to venture out.
Justin ate dinner with Brett at the main house when Brett was in town and didn’t have other things going on, and because of that Justin was privy to information and progress about the movie that the other members of the Art Department weren’t. But as co-creator of the comic, Brett valued Justin’s opinion and asked for it often. This made Justin feel great. Proud of himself. And of course, it helped ease him into his new surroundings.
Brian was okay with the dinners for two Justin was having with Brett and he was okay with Brett keeping Justin on the front page of the movie dealings. Those things didn’t bother him at all. But there was something different about Justin that he noticed at the end of the second week and Brian feared that there was more to Justin’s sudden change in demeanor than just getting accustomed to the big, bad city and the new job.
Justin was rambling non-stop about the casting announcements that had gone out and how excited he was with this next step when Brian cleared his throat and interrupted him mid-sentence. “Justin?”
“What?” Justin asked, taking a much needed breath.
“Did you get laid?” he asked with a smirk.
Justin laughed. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“You have that freshly fucked tone in your voice and you’re carrying on like a school girl.”
“Oh,” Justin said, clearly disappointed that his own voice had betrayed him. Not that he was trying to hide anything, he just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. But then he smiled… Brian knew him so well. “I was going to tell you about it after I finished with the movie stuff.”
“Why don’t you tell me now.”
“Okay,” Justin agreed.
“Oh wait, hang on.” Brian tossed the phone on the bed and stripped off his shirt and pants then lied down, propping the pillows up behind his back. His sling had been removed two days ago and he was anxious to check the mobility and strength of that arm, see if he could jack off with it. He squirted lotion in the palm of his hand and grabbed the phone back with the other one. “Okay, now. Tell me. Every detail. And go slow.” Justin laughed and blushed. “And no giggling.”
Justin furrowed his brows then cleared his throat. “Okay.”
“Wait,” Brian interrupted again.
“Fuck, Brian! Do you want me to tell you or not?”
“Are you naked?” Brian asked. His voice deep and sultry and sexy.
Justin shivered. It got to him every time and he was no longer perturbed that Brian kept interrupting him. “Yeah.”
“Are you stroking yourself?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Yes. Close your eyes.”
“Okay, they’re closed.”
“Now. Tell me. What’d he look like?”
“I was at the Emerald Club with Brett. I met some people in the business and there were some that were cruising me pretty heavily but I wasn’t really interested. Then I saw this guy, god, he was so beautiful, Brian. He was over at the back bar, leaning against it, and he was looking right at me. I tried to look away but I couldn’t. Brownish hair with highlights, cut like yours. Nice, firm body. Built like you, strong but not too muscle-y. Very nice package from where I was standing. Big light-brown, greenish eyes. Deep and sultry. He just stared at me and I got hard instantly. My ass was twitching. I swear, I wanted him to bend me over a table right then and there and fuck me… hard.”
Justin was definitely telling him everything in great detail. It was the artist in him. It all made Brian tense up and he wasn’t sure why. This was supposed to be phone sex.
“And did he?” Brian asked softly, surprised his voice was actually working.
“No, uh-uh. I walked over to him but I didn’t say anything. He was taller than me so I had to look up at him. And when he looked at me with those eyes, shit, I knew he wanted to fuck me and he knew I was gonna let him. It was so hot. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, his hot breath gave me tingles.”
Brian swallowed and squeezed his eyes closed tighter. He was able to work himself up by picturing Justin jacking off on the phone. He was desperately trying to remove this mystery man from Justin’s story and replace him with his own likeness. “What did he say to you?”
“I want to fuck you,” Justin whispered into the phone. “Then he added, ‘All night,’ and he punctuated the “T” with his teeth against my ear lobe. I almost came in my fucking pants.” Justin breathed heavily into the phone and stroked himself a little faster.
Brian bit his lip, hating that he couldn’t be right there, beside Justin. But he had to know, this was going to be that first fuck and he just had to know… every… stinking… detail. “So you left with him?”
“Yes, he stroked my cock through my pants all the way back to his place. I was panting and so hard. It’d been two weeks. You know that? Fuck, I was so horny. I didn’t even know how much until that very moment. I swear I was leaking into my underwear.”
“Mmmm, what color?”
“Huh?”
“Your underwear. What color? The Calvin Klein’s?”
“Yeah. The black ones.” Justin knew Brian was getting into it, hell, he was too. “And my balls were so full and my cock was so hard inside them that they were really tight, almost strangling, adding to the pressure.”
Brian pictured Justin’s hard cock pointing upward, tenting the front opening and poking at the elastic waistband of his tight Calvin Klein’s. He’d tried to improve Justin’s taste in underwear but he continued to opt for the CK’s, stating that they were more comfortable. If Brian told the truth, he liked Justin in the Calvin’s too… his ass molded perfectly inside the soft cotton. He pulled on his dick a little harder and let out a moan.
Justin continued. “I was making a wet spot on the front and he just kept stroking me. My dick was aching inside my jeans. It was throbbing. I needed release so bad. I was moaning and gasping and gripping the door handle.”
“Shit. Stop,” Brian ordered and Justin fell silent. He had a thought and took a deep breath. “What kind of car did he drive?”
Justin chuckled lightly. “A ‘vette… a classic, like yours, but cobalt blue.”
“Niiiice.”
“Uh-huh. The leather was hot against the back of my legs and my ass. I was on fire. So we finally get to his place and go inside. He slammed the door shut behind me and pushed me up against the wall. I hit it hard, with a loud thud, and my dick jumped. He wanted me… so, so bad. I could feel his hot breath on my face. He leaned in to kiss me...”
Brian tensed and squeezed his cock.
“…but I turned my head and he ended up sucking on my neck.” Brian panted as he released his held breath. “It sent shivers down my spine but what I really wanted was to be kissing you at that moment. It’s just not the same… without kissing. You know? I wanted to kiss him like it was you. I wanted to.” Justin sighed. “But, I didn’t.”
Brian wanted to tell him it was okay, but he just couldn’t. It wasn’t about the rules. They didn’t have any rules anymore, not really. But both had decided on their own that kissing was out. They wanted that to remain special. And as much as Brian wanted to tell Justin that it was okay, they didn’t have those old rules anymore, that kissing was just a part of sex, just like fucking and sucking and everything else... he just couldn’t. So he changed the subject.
“Then what’d he do? Did he suck your cock?”
“Yes. Mmm. He did.”
“Did he suck you good? Make you cum down his throat?”
“His mouth was wet and warm. Other than that, I didn’t care. It did feel good though, so I guess he was okay. But he wasn’t as good as me.” Brian smiled into the phone. “I didn’t want to come that way so I pulled him off me. When I did, he grabbed my arm and dragged me across the living room. My pants were around my thighs still so I couldn’t really move very fast. He pulled me hard and pushed me against the couch.”
“He was being rough with you?” Brian’s heart started racing.
“Yeah, a little rough but he wasn’t hurting me. He was just needy. It made my heart pound and it echoed in my ears. I needed to be fucked as bad as he needed to fuck me.”
Brian’s heart was beginning to pound hard too. And just like Justin described, he could hear it echo in his ears. This was definitely going to be that sex that Brian had been concerned about.
“He bent me over the couch, yanked my pants down the rest of the way, put on a condom, slapped me with some lube and drove into me in one fluid motion. I held on to the edge of the sofa and bit my lip. I wanted to scream.”
“How big was his cock?”
“Big. Like yours. I was so tight. It’d been so long. It hurt but shit, it felt soooo good. My body was electrified. He slid in and out of my ass. I could feel it in my toes. In and out. In and out. Just like you do it. Oh god, Brian.”
“Stroke faster, and keep talking,” Brian encouraged. They were both almost there. Brian focused on the image in his head of Justin stroking himself faster and faster and blocked out the image of this other guy fucking his Justin the way only he was allowed to do. It was hard to do but he managed. Of course Justin’s descriptions of what he looked like was helping tremendously. He knew early on in the conversation what Justin was telling him. And it helped. It definitely helped. Smart little fucker.
“I felt my balls draw up and a tickle go down my spine. It started and he just kept fucking me. It’s starting now! Building and building. And it came hard and with such force. Brian, NOW! You there?”
And when Justin came, screaming Brian’s name into the phone, Brian let loose with his own fury. And as hot as it had been, he still vowed that from now on Justin could tell him about his exploits, they just weren’t going to use them for masturbatory material anymore. Brian handled things better when Justin came because of his sexual creativity, not someone else’s sexual reality.
After a few minutes of heavy breathing and relaxing sighs, Brian spoke first. “Phone sex is overrated.” He grabbed some tissue and wiped up his mess. Pleased that he could jack off left handed again, he bent his arm out in front of him and raised it up and down, checking the agility in his shoulder. It was still somewhat stiff and probably would be for a little while longer, but for the most part he had full-range motion back. He smiled.
“Yeah, it is.” Justin grinned on the other end of the phone line as he grabbed the towel he’d brought with him to bed and cleaned off his hand and stomach.
A few more deep sighs, then, “So, cobalt blue, huh? What’s wrong with dark green?”
“Nothing. The green matches your eyes. It’s perfect.”
“Then why blue?”
Justin laughed. “Cobalt blue would match MY eyes. My fantasy, I get to pick the car color.”
“Well, where were you when I was picking out the damn color, then?” And he regretted saying it the minute it tumbled out of his mouth.
A quick second of silence followed, but to Brian it felt like an eternity had lasped before Justin finally said something. “Allowing you to make your own choices… just like you did for me.”
“Ah,” Brian responded with relief. But he just had to be sure. “So, what did this guy really look like?”
“I don’t know. Hot, I guess. Every time I looked at him, all I saw was you. It was just like you said to me that first night. No matter who I’m with, you’d always be there. I don’t know if it was the power of suggestion or what, but that statement has never been truer than it was last night.”
Brian smiled. It made him feel good that Justin had been thinking about him but at the same time he wanted to laugh. He had absolutely no idea why he’d said what he had that first night. But at that exact moment, he was glad he did.
“These last two weeks, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. It’s like I got a disease, like some overbearing cancer or something. One without a cure.” And then it was Justin’s turn to regret what he’d said. “Ugh,” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. Brian had been too quiet and Justin thought he might have really upset him. “Brian?”
“It’s a song.”
“Huh?” Justin asked confused.
“I got a disease. It’s a song. That Rob something guy.”
“Rob Thomas. Matchbox 20.”
“Yeah, him. He’s hot.”
“Yeah, he’s hot.” Justin sighed. “Brian, I’m sorry, I must miss you a lot more than I thought.”
Brian smirked. “You know what you’re problem is, Sunshine?”
“Yeah, I’ve got Brian on the brain.”
“Yep,” Brian replied smugly.
“How pathetic is that?” Justin covered his face with his hands in embarrassment.
“Pretty pathetic. But you can’t help it. Once you’ve had the best, there’s just no topping it.”
Justin laughed. “Oh, you can top it. Just only on those rare occasions when an itch needs to be scratched.”
“Or when it’s deserved… like as a gift.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “You’re such a liar, Brian.” He heard Brian huff through the receiver and there was a long silence. “So… Monday… they’re starting the casting process. I can’t wait to see who they get to play Rage and JT. I’m so excited.”
So that’s how the rest of that conversation went. Brian was relieved that things were still fine and extremely pleased that Justin had allowed him to be there with him for that critical first one, even if it was because he had come down with the Dreaded Brian Disease. It didn’t matter. That first one was the one he was worried about, the rest would be a piece of cake. Brian thought he might have to go to the baths to celebrate then realized he hadn’t been the whole time Justin’d been gone. He shook that thought away and blamed it on the injury. Yeah that was it.
But Brian wasn’t nearly as excited about the casting as Justin was. Could Justin resist someone that would be so much like Brian? Could Justin resist fucking someone that looked himself… a little tasty JT twink? Brian sure hadn’t passed on the opportunity when it presented itself at the Rage party. So yeah, getting to the casting negotiations had its downside. The upside was that they were one step closer to Justin coming home.
Brian smiled. He figured that maybe, if he kept that thought in mind… one step closer… one step at a time… yeah, then everything would be okay. Just a few more million steps to go. Fuck, he thought, and closed his eyes, still listening to Justin’s voice from so far away. One step at a time…