“What am I going to do with you?” Brian asked, grinning and shaking his head as he ran his thumb over Justin’s lips, his eyes following the movement.
“If you have to ask then we have one hell of a big problem.”
“Such delicate skin,” Brian mused, lost in the soft touch of Justin’s cheeks. He stroked them gently, his eyes twinkled… and Justin found it to be rather… um… romantic? He leaned into it then narrowed his eyes, staring at Brian, trying to understand where his real partner had gone and who this stranger was. The one caressing his face with tender loving care. And he wondered why this pod-person seemed to be undaunted by the fact that they were sporting twin stiffies and they were at the house and could get out of the limo at any time to go inside and take care of those said stiffies. First caveman. Now lovesick puppy.
Then he saw it. A tiny little wrinkle on the right side of Brian’s mouth. It was very small and it faded quickly, but he did see it.
He batted Brian’s hand away. “Asshole.”
Brian snorted and opened the door. “That’s twice you’ve called me that. Makes me think you have something on your mind, Sunshine.” He pulled his lips into this mouth and waited as Justin got out of the car.
Justin leaned up, kissed him quickly and swatted Brian lightly on the butt. “Maybe I do.”
“Such a creative and intuitive mind… your mother should be proud.”
Justin scrunched up his face. “Did you have to bring my mother into this?” Brian laughed as they went inside.
They had less than three hours to get ready for the GLAAD Awards Banquet and Justin used them wisely. The first thirty minutes were spent undressing Brian ever so slowly, kissing every inch of the newly exposed skin as he went. By the time Brian was completely naked and sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, his whole body was sprinkled with the same tingling red rash that Justin’s face had shown just moments before.
Justin grinned at his artwork as he spread Brian’s ass cheeks open and dove inside. And Brian flashed back to their first year when Justin would lather his baby face up and shave standing right beside him, but not really needing to. Those days were obviously long gone and it made his body feel alive. Every single tiny red dot pulsed on his flesh, reminding him that the Justin that had his tongue up his ass was no longer that dependent boy but a full-fledged man now… independent… living on his own… with a promising career… in California… three thousand miles away from him. And as much as he hated the distance between them, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was that mental fact that made him uncontrollably cum onto the already soiled sheets beneath him without ever touching his dick or the physical fact that he’d taught the once seventeen year old virgin how to give masterful rim jobs.
He was shaken from his musings when Justin, the man, plopped down beside him on the mattress with a self-satisfied grin on his face that screamed immature brat. Brian couldn’t help but snort at the little shit’s conceited audacity.
“Good, huh?” Justin asked with all the confidence in the world and Brian snorted again.
Yes, it was true that Justin was the only one that could make Brian cum without some kind of dick massage, Brian knew it and Justin knew it, but still, the fucker didn’t need to rub it in his face. Brian knew he’d have to deal with it though because along with the art of rimming and everything else, he’d also taught the boy about bold arrogance. He had to be proud of him, right? But he also had to rectify the situation and bring him down a few pegs.
“You need to shave. It was like being rimmed by a Brillo pad.”
Justin just smiled and kissed him without saying anything because sometimes that was the best way to deal with Brian and his issues, and he knew that his comment was simply Brian trying to save face from the fact that he’d just cum from a rim job like an inexperienced teenager. Besides, now that they were together, face to face instead of just on the phone, they could once again return to their silent mode of communication. Brian lifted up on his elbows and rolled his eyes. A move that clearly was calling Justin a twat for the condescending kiss. Justin just kissed him again. The nerve. Brian shoved him away and got up.
“Just for that, you can take care of that by yourself,” Brian said pointing to Justin’s straining hardness. “I’m taking a shower.”
Justin huffed and followed Brian into the bathroom, confidant that within the next thirty minutes to an hour, Brian would most certainly be the one to take care of that for him. And of course he did, reciprocating the rim job that he’d received on the bed, in the shower, making sure that Justin kept his hands flat against the tile so as to not allow him to touch his dick. Turnabout’s fair play, after all. He was determined to get him off with no other stimulation except the sheer pleasure of his tongue up Justin’s ass and the erotic tingling of his scruffy chin on Justin’s delicate skin. And once he had, Brian couldn’t help but be pleased that Justin hadn’t lasted as long as he had. Brian still had some things over on his younger partner.
After the third time, when their eyes locked in the mirror, Justin grinned one of his patronizing grins. Brian pushed him on the side of his head and Justin smirked. Smart little fucker.
Primped, shaved and smelling good, Brian pulled their suits out of the makeshift closet and laid them out on the bed. His was black, white shirt. Justin’s navy blue with a royal blue shirt. Brian loved that suit on Justin, he was hot as hell in it, and he knew he’d picked out the right one when he’d bought it for him. The only problem for Brian was, he was very well aware of the fact that everyone on the planet seemed to also think Justin was hot as hell when he wore it, and he knew Conner would too. His stomach tightened and he hoped that the in-the-closet-movie star would bring a female companion with him to the banquet. If he was having to act straight all night then he would keep his mitts off Justin and Brian could show him just how deeply he was planted in Justin’s life. Brian shook it off. He had to think about Justin’s big night. He smiled as an image of the two them together all spiffed up crossed his mind. Maybe there was something to be said about men liking a good-looking blond on their arm. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Justin asked, coming out of the bathroom in nothing but his Calvin Klein underwear. Brian didn’t answer, but he picked up Justin’s shirt and held it open. Justin smiled and slid one arm in then the other and turned around. He watched Brian’s face, a little confused, as Brian buttoned it for him. Once he was done, he looked Justin in the eye like this was nothing, reached for Justin’s pants, held them open at the waist and bent over. Justin, even though he felt rather strange about it, stepped into them.
Brian pulled them up over Justin’s ass and tucked in the shirt, wiggling the tip of his finger over the tip of Justin’s dick as he did so which made Justin jump. He smirked then zipped them up and hooked them. Brian smoothed the pants and shirt out and stepped back. “Turn around,” he instructed.
Justin did and Brian smoothed out the back as well then grabbed Justin’s shoulder and turned him back around. He smiled at him and kissed his nose. Justin furrowed his eyebrows. What the fuck? Brian picked up a pair of socks off the bed and held them at Justin’s chest until he took them from him then moved, reaching for his own clothes.
“What the fuck, Brian?” Justin had to ask.
“What?” Brian asked in return as he buttoned up his own shirt. “I can’t dress you?”
“It’s just that you never have before.”
“Sure I have. That first morning.” Justin grinned, remembering how good that felt. “Your birthday.” Justin frowned. “Well, anyway,” Brian continued, changing the subject from that incredibly bad idea. “You’re going to be on TV, you have to look hot. This is your big night, right?” Justin quirked his head with a slight nod to agree. “Alright then. As your partner, and as someone with a keen sense of style, it’s my job to make sure you’re dressed appropriately and as well-fashioned as any respectable homo should be. Wouldn’t want the Fab Five to disapprove, would we?”
Justin laughed. “Oh, please. Heaven forbid I make Carson cringe.”
“Exactly. And well, cargos and belly shirts – while perfect for twinkiness – just aren’t conducive to the up and coming Justin Taylor, co-creator of Rage.”
Justin grinned again as he reached for his suit jacket and slipped it on. “You just wanted to touch my cock.” Brian shrugged but didn’t argue when Justin took his pants from him and held them open for Brian to step into them. He mirrored Brian’s movements, pulling the pants over Brian’s hips, tucking the shirt inside and included the gratuitous finger grazing which earned him the gratuitous Brian Kinney bored eye roll. “I’m having a ‘franks and beans’ flashback,” Justin said as he yanked up Brian’s zipper.
Brian jumped back, swatting Justin’s hands away and fastened the hook himself. Justin laughed at him as Brian glared in return. He put his jacket on and they both sat down to put on their socks and shoes. Brian couldn’t help but notice how domesticated the entire scene was and he wondered just when things had gotten that way. He wasn’t so sure he could pinpoint it to a particular time, it just kind of happened. Poof. Out of nowhere. And it didn’t feel all that weird. Not like he thought it would. It was actually kind of nice.
With a few extra straightening motions on each other after they stood, they were ready to go. Their suits were very formal but they dressed them down by not wearing ties. Sexy-formal. Sophisticated casual. Whatever you want to call it, but they both looked very hot. Brian approved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the limo came to a stop and an usher opened their door Justin froze, unable to move. Brian got out and extended his hand. Justin didn’t take it so Brian reached in and took his, pulling him out. “Relax. They’re just people. It’s no big deal,” he whispered, wanting to calm him.
“Yeah, I know,” Justin lied trying to be confident while his insides were churning and his nerves were ablaze.
A woman wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard approached them. “Mr. Taylor?” she asked.
“Huh?” Justin stammered in confusion as to how she knew who he was. Brian pushed him toward her and she smiled.
She was obviously used to the Hollywood virgins, so to speak, so she answered his silent question right away. “You’re Co-creator of Rage and personal guest of Mr. Keller’s?”
Justin, still stunned, was speechless. “Yes, he is,” Brian spoke up, pinching Justin on his waist to snap him out of his daze.
The woman immediately pushed the button on her belt and recited Justin’s name into the headset then paused. “And you?” she asked looking at Brian.
“That’s Brian. My partner,” Justin answered finally getting with the program.
“Welcome back,” Brian whispered into Justin’s ear, making him giggle as the woman pushed the button again. This time she gave his name, added ‘and partner’, then gave his credentials about Rage. She held out her arm, motioning for Justin and Brian to follow the red carpet that was lined on either side with photographers and reporters. Justin noticed that a man wearing a headset was walking slightly in front of them and as they got closer to the swarm of media, he began leaning into people and stating Justin’s name and credentials, just as the woman had done into the headset. Now Justin understood how all those reporters on those award pre-shows knew who everyone was all the time. Everyone, including people that were generally obscure to wide-spread fame.
They made their way through with only two reporters stopping Justin for questions. But that was two more than he thought would stop them. The questions were all about Rage, the comic, of course, since the making of the movie wasn’t common knowledge just yet. One of them even asked Justin if he was disappointed that Rage hadn’t been nominated for GLAAD’s Best Comic Award. Justin didn’t even know there was such an award but he handled himself very well, telling the reporter that Rage was still new and finding its audience and that there was always next year. Brian was impressed. Justin was good at the whole ‘star’ thing, easily fitting right in. He coughed into a clenched fist to dislodge the lump that was building in his throat.
He didn’t even seem to mind the fact that the interest was all about Justin and not him. He stood behind him, quiet and silent, and other than a few seductive winks and nods from two very cute camera guys and one well-known television show interviewer, he was completely ignored. And that was okay. It was the gritting fact that he thought it was okay that he wasn’t so okay with. Brian Kinney, a loving and supportive partner willing to take a back seat to his lover? Fuck, his head hurt. Way too much thinking… and he really needed a drink.
Once they got through the main doors Justin’s professional composure fell and he turned to Brian, leaning into him, his body jittering with excitement. Brian knew Justin really wanted to jump and down and hug him but he maintained. “Did you see that? Oh my God. That was so cool.”
“Yeah, pretty cool,” Brian agreed, pulling Justin beside him and slipping his arm around his neck. “Just don’t let it go to your head, little boy.”
Justin elbowed him. “Do you really think that Rage could win an award like this someday?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s gay and these are gay awards. So yeah.” Justin looked up at him blankly. “Besides, it’s fucking good.”
That made Justin smile. “Yeah, it is. Isn’t it?” Brian shook his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They ended up sitting at a big table with the whole sordid gang. Harry and his girlfriend, Tiffany. Brett and an older woman who they later found out was his mother (the typical unpartnered gay man’s date, Brian mused). Rupert and his date (a man who was older than Rupert, mid-thirties maybe and while friendly seemed kind of uppity in Brian’s opinion). Conner. And a bunch of others in Brett’s entourage from his production company.
Wait. Conner. Alone. Where was his date? Brian tensed. Was Justin’s charm already working? Was Conner embarrassed to bring a woman to the nationally televised event, an event where if he was to perpetuate his straightness he should damn well have a woman with him? Why wouldn’t he? Because Justin would be there? Brian’s mind began racing with all kinds of reasons for Conner coming stag. He looked at Justin. The blond on his arm, while small and pretty on the outside, packed one hell of a punch. He’d been hit by that jab more than once and it was obvious now, Conner had gone a few rounds with him as well. He needed to sit down. He knew it. He just knew it. He could hear Vic laughing… loudly. And if the man wasn’t dead already, he’d kill him.
Justin did introduce Brian to everyone but other than that they were only able to carry on the usual small talk. Brian and Justin both stayed relatively quiet, preferring to sit back and take it all in. Besides, Brian had things to think about. A few things for sure that Brian sized up rather quickly about the stunning group were...
One, Conner kept looking at Justin as well as him. Ideas flitted through Brian’s mind. There were possibilities there that he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about. Possibly bad ideas. But then again… maybe not. That could be the way to achieve his goal. He’d have to think some more to be sure.
Two, Rupert was a very intense young man and hard to figure out. He kept looking at Brian, tilting his head one way and then another. He licked his lips a couple of times but Brian wasn’t sure if it was from arousal at what was known in his own circles back home as his sexual magnetism or simply dry lips. The California sun could be brutal after all… but then again, so could his allure. Whatever it was that was going through the young Irishman’s mind, Brian was definitely being scrutinized. He knew that much for sure. And the fact that Rupert would periodically whisper in his date’s ear as he stared at Brian unnerved him to no end.
Three, Harry was an obnoxious idiot and Brian didn’t like him. He talked non-stop about stupid stuff and was desperate to be funny. More than half his jokes were about women. The man was nuts. He was sitting at a table with a bunch of gay men and he thought they’d find women jokes funny? They were so bad and demeaning that Brian actually found himself feeling sorry for Tiffany. Why, he didn’t know. She was obviously just there because he was famous so she deserved what she got. But still…
And four, he had obviously made quite an impression on the living, breathing Barbie doll the day before. She seemed unable to take her eyes off of him so he winked back and offered up some of his best ‘you know you want me’ looks. The more she squirmed in her seat the more fun he was having. Of course, he was only doing it to piss off the Glow-worm and it was working in spades.
On at least one occasion that Brian noticed, Conner quirked one eyebrow at Justin from across the table, making Justin laugh. Brian looked at Justin, rather disturbed about that and raised an eyebrow at him to show his displeasure of the little display. It backfired though. Since that was the very thing that Conner had practiced so hard at doing, and obviously perfected by now, Brian doing it in retaliation of Conner doing it just made Justin laugh even harder. Brian didn’t find it funny at all and turned that raised threatening eyebrow toward Conner. He had played his hand. He hadn’t meant to do it this early in the evening but Conner hadn’t given him much choice. They squared off with looks. Justin’s eyes darted between them. Uh-oh. Conner broke first, his eyes softening with… something… lust? Brian jolted. Ummm, maybe his idea wasn’t such a bad one after all.
Brett had been watching the whole thing and when he chuckled out of nervous concern, Brian turned to him and smiled his ‘I’m sweet’ smile.
All these Hollywood yo-yos, ‘pack of wolves’, Brian thought, as he glanced over at the unsuspecting lamb sitting next to him. He slipped his hand under the table and between Justin’s thighs to protect him. Justin looked up at him and smiled sheepishly at the loving gesture… then reminded him to behave.
Luckily for Justin, he didn’t have to say anything while on stage. It was just an announcement of what was to come, so the four of them just stood there and waved as Brett introduced them. Seeing Justin up on the stage squelched Brian’s thoughts of Conner, and he focused on Justin’s big debut. He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head at what he was thinking. Justin was freaking out enough, but Michael… he would have been a total drama queen. And that made him think of Deb. Christ, she probably had the show on the TV at the diner, turning up the volume when Brett went on stage and sshhing everyone in the place to keep quiet. Brian just knew, that the very second that Justin’s name was said and he smiled that Sunshine smile and waved, Deb would be screaming, “Oh my God, there’s our little Sunshine!” at the top of her lungs, pulling Mikey’s head into her bosom to squeeze the life out of his remaining brain cells then smacking him upside the head for not being there himself, thus depriving her of seeing her kid on television. A little bit of him wished he could see that, but that would mean he’d be in Pittsburgh and the rest of him was most assuredly more happy to be seeing Justin’s wave up close and personal than Deb’s drama.
When Justin came back and sat at the table, he leaned into Brian saying, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Brian smirked and kissed his temple.
