I've had a really rough week, (so really, nothing new there) external validation is always nice.
Hope you like it.
As always it's dedicated to my wives. xie_xie_xie who loves this fic like Woah, happier_bunny who helped with plot points and told me when I got the law all wrong, _alicesprings who's away for the weekend and thus sucks, but I still love her.
silent_seas still deserves to have her toes licked for the banner.
Brian felt Justin move against him. He opened his eyes and panicked. Justin was sweaty and shaking, thrashing against him. He moved his arm to avoid an elbow in the ribs and to hold Justin down, make sure he didn’t swallow his tongue, call someone, do something. Justin struggled under him and when Brian released his grip Justin sat up.
He watched as Justin took a couple of deep breaths and ran a hand through his hair. He reached for the water bottle and realizing it was empty, pulled on his jeans and shirt. Justin was moving towards the door before Brian said anything.
He turned, seeming a little startled. “What?”
“It’s only seven in the morning.”
“I know. I have to get home.”
Brian stood up and moved towards Justin. “What happened?”
Brian took Justin’s hand. “Come back to bed. Sleep. Later, much later, you can tell me what the hell just happened.”
Justin shook his head. “I’ve gotta go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Brian released Justin’s hand shaking his head. “We need to go down and file the warrant.”
“We? I’ll do it on my way home.”
Brian just stared trying to figure out what Justin was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. “We’ll go together.”
Justin moved towards the sofa and then turned sharply, almost walking into Brian. “Christ could you put some clothes on?”
Brian arched an eyebrow but said nothing. He slid on a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater while Justin got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. They met back at the sofa. Brian had a notepad and pen with him. He waited.
Justin seemed to be concentrating on the water bottle label, and removing it from the bottle in one piece.
“Hmm? Oh, right. Gary’s house isn’t as big as I thought it would be.”
Brian nodded, waiting for the information he’d wanted last night. “He’s got a room in the back.” Justin’s expression changed and Brian gripped his pen harder.
“A room in the back…” he prompted after almost a minute of silence while Justin rubbed his temples.
“There are drugs. He’s got drugs in the room in the back.”
“Any idea what you took? Able to remember anything?”
“Actually, um… memory seems more fuzzy now. Not sure why.”
Justin rubbed his temples and tried to stave off his panic. He’d woken up to a nightmare. The nightmare threw him a little; he’d thought he was past those. Long past them. Now he was trying to concentrate on giving Brian the information he needed, they needed to get the search warrant but he was having difficulty. His memory of the previous night had some gaps in it.
His head was hurting, and he still felt a little out of it. He was trying at the moment to remember how he got back to Brian’s loft, the last thing he remembered was a man with long gray hair and a crooked yellow tooth touching his ass. Someone blew him. He flinched inwardly. Had he let that guy blow him. Had he let that guy fuck him? He looked up at Brian who was grinding his teeth.
He closed his eyes again and tried to picture the drugs. He’d seen them. A lot of them. He realized Brian had said something and was waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you see anything that would give us a reason to search Babylon?”
“No. Well…” Justin stopped to consider but he really wasn’t sure of what he’d seen. “No. Nothing that would justify searching Babylon.”
“What did you see at Gary’s?”
“Mostly a lot of naked men playing with a lot of naked boys.”
“Just what every jury wants to hear, the eyewitness testimony of a party favor.”
“You don’t remember much do you?”
“It’s all a little fuzzy after…”
“It just all seems to blend together. The timeline’s gone.”
“What’s the last thing you remember accurately?”
Justin remembered a man whispering his name against his ear. He remembered the long gray hair and the crooked tooth, arms wrapped around him, keeping him from falling while he tried to get a better look at the…
“Supply closet.” Brian repeated slowly.
“That’s what he called it.”
“What he called what?”
“The room with the visible amounts of drugs, it’s in the back. There are a couple of rooms back there, behind the sliding door. A play room, with a sling and a couple of other back room setups and the supply closet, with copious amounts of…everything.”
Brian’s fingers clamped around the Mont Blanc pen in his hand. If it had been a cheap Bic it would have broken by now. He wanted to shake his partner, this cop, this kid who was clearly not okay. He wondered what Justin could remember, because it wasn’t much. And when he started to describe the back rooms his face showed visible discomfort. What the hell had happened in bed? Nightmare? Something.
He listened as Justin told him what he knew, and had a feeling that Justin was leaving out large parts of the story. He wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or because he didn’t have the memory to fill in those blanks. Either option pissed him off.
“He’s got drugs in a back room of his house?”
“Yeah, and a basement full of wine, but I don’t think that’s nefarious, I think he just has crap taste in wine.”
“Okay, so what is nefarious?”
“Nothing. He has parties, everyone sort of knows what to expect, and gets what they want.”
“Did I what? Know what to expect? Yes.”
“And did you get what you wanted?”
“I wanted probable cause to get a warrant.”
“And if the judge isn’t willing to issue a warrant based on the testimony of a half drugged twink?”
“He has no reason to believe the testimony of a half drugged twink, but I’m a police officer. We will get the warrant. But if we don’t, if you fuck up the paperwork, I’ll do it again.”
Brian’s hand cramped around the pen and he was a little proud of himself when he didn’t throw it across the room. “Okay, let’s go to the station to fill out the forms and get them approved. We can’t be there when they raid the place. So you go home to sleep. I’ll call you when I know anything.”
Justin shook his head. “We’ll file the warrant, and we’ll wait.”
“Neither of us has gotten much sleep in the last week. We can wait here. We’ll hear the phone.”
Justin sighed and Brian had a feeling he was going to get another diatribe on his methods of communication. He was wrong.
“I’ll be at my place. I live there. I’ll sleep better there. Call me when we know something.” Justin was at the door and threw it open. “Let’s go”
Brian was pulling on clothes. He drove them to the back of the station house. Justin was clearly uncomfortable and Brian wondered if it was because of what had happened in Pitcairn, or because he thought someone would see him and he’d blow his cover.
They walked in together and Horvath greeted them at the coffee machine. “You two are up early.”
“Up late actually.”
Horvath looked over to Justin. “You haven’t slept yet?”
“Not now Carl. We’ve got what we need to search Gary’s house.”
“Great. Get it all filed and we’ll do it today.”
Brian sipped his coffee and almost grimaced. How could coffee taste old at eight thirty in the morning?
“You think they’re gonna offer him a deal?”
Horvath shrugged. “Really depends on what we find, and what he’s willing to do to stay out of jail.”
Justin nodded. “I think he’d do a lot. He doesn’t strike me as the type who’d do time for his business partners.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
Brian and Justin walked toward Brian’s desk to file the forms and take them to the DA, who would take them to the judge. He heard a few offhand remarks and would normally not have noticed. Fag jokes were part and parcel of being a cop. Even more so when you’re unapologetically out. Today he minded. Today Justin had to deal with them and Brian had a feeling Justin had dealt with enough homophobia from his fellow officers to last a lifetime. He walked more quickly.
I’m glad he’s being quiet. I can tell the fag jokes upset him, which is odd, he’s never seemed anything less than fully open about who he fucks. I hate them, the fag jokes, but I’m used to them. I’d probably hate them less if they weren’t so stupid, if they didn’t miss the fundamental point of what it is to be a gay man. Okay, I’m intellectualizing. They probably would piss me off less if I didn’t have to wonder if the harsh and supposedly playful words were a precursor to harsh and “playful” actions. But fuck it. New force, new city, and they don’t seem to have done any damage to Brian. I’m safe, and if I’m not, I’m strong; I can take care of myself.
I consciously stand up taller. I’m exhausted; I think Brian’s right. We’ve gotten 18 hours of sleep between the two of us in the last week. That’s just… not enough. I have to remember not to tell my mother that. Fuck, I should call her.
Brian’s at his computer filling out all the information. The only reason I’m here is that without me it’s hearsay. Good thing they don’t drug test eyewitnesses. I have no idea what I took but it’s making my head feel like it weighs a thousand pounds. My body feels sluggish. I close my eyes and lean against Brian’s desk.
The next thing I hear is a loud sound and I startle. Brian looks at me with amusement. “It’s the printer. You fell asleep.”
I nod, not sure I can talk. My heart’s racing. “Tired. Are we done?”
“DA’s office and then we’re done.”
I follow him and someone calls out to me. I look behind me. What the fuck?”
Brian and Justin were heading to the DA’s office. Brian was hoping that Amanda was working and not Preston. Preston was always looking for an opportunity for a repeat performance. Brian wasn’t interested, he wasn’t that good in the first place. He was biting back the urge to smack Wilson and Jackson as they gossiped and joked like schoolgirls over their cubicle walls. He didn’t care. Their stupid fag jokes meant nothing to him, but he wanted to usher Justin past them as quickly as possible.
He turned to ask Justin a question, hoping to distract him, when he noticed he wasn’t there. He was facing a newer member of their force. A uniformed officer who was apparently just getting off the overnight shift. Brian tried to remember his name. He couldn’t. He walked back over to Justin, standing next to him, his shoulder slightly angled, separating the two.
“Billy, this is Brian, my partner.”
“Billy, or William Holbright as his nametag pronounced, gave an odd smile.
“We’re working together.” Justin clarified.
“Sure, work. What the fuck are you doing in Pittsburgh?”
“Same thing you are I guess. Pitcairn can get boring.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Couple of months. Still working the graveyard shift. You?”
“Doing some undercover work.”
“You made detective?” Billy looked angry and Brian fought the urge to push him backwards, further away from Justin. Justin seemed to sense it because he took a step, not backwards, or forwards, just… further away from the both of them, and turned a little. “Not really. Just helping out.”
Billy’s eyes raked Justin’s form. His black jeans from last night and Justin’s own gray sweater from earlier yesterday. His smile was knowing. “I’ll bet.”
Justin shook his head. “I’ve got some work to do and a meeting with the DA. See you around.”
Justin turned and walked away before Billy could say anything else. Brian glared at Billy for a moment and then turned to follow Justin. He had a lot of questions. Experience with Justin told him they wouldn’t get answered today. Experience with himself assured him that wouldn’t keep him from trying to get the answers.
Paperwork filed they were back in the jeep. “My place.”
Brian nodded and Justin relaxed against the seat. He wasn’t in the mood for an argument.
“So Billy was on the job with you in Pitcairn.”
Or a conversation. “Yes.” Justin replied without opening his eyes.
“Were you friends?”
Justin felt the car turn; he gripped the door a little harder.
Justin waited, a knot in his stomach. “Was he what?”
Brian said nothing. Justin chanced a look over towards him. “Was he what?”
“Just wondering if you worked together a lot. Is he gonna risk your cover?”
Justin knew Brian was lying. The question didn’t even make sense. He once again wondered how much Brian knew about why he left the force in Pitcairn. The one thing he did know was that he wasn’t in the mood to worry about it.
The car swerved suddenly and Justin opened his eyes again. He was just in time to see Brian roll down the window and hear him turn up the music. Brian was as tired as he was. He hid it better.
“We’re almost there.”
Brian drove the next mile and a half hyper vigilantly and when he pulled the car in front of Justin’s building Justin shook his head. “You’re coming up.”
“Aren’t you too tired to fuck?”
“You’re not driving home this tired. You’re coming up.”
“I’ll get some coffee.”
“Speaking of being ordered around.”
Brian closed his eyes, half in exasperation, half in exhaustion and then moved the car to a parking spot. He followed Justin to the elevator. “I’m just getting coffee. I can’t sleep in your bed.
“Shut up. Please.”
Brian was surprised to hear the please, so he shut up.
When they got to Justin’s apartment there were two long narrow boxes in front of his door. “My bookshelves came.”
Justin unlocked the door, pushed it open and tried to slide the heavy parcels inside. Brian helped and when they were finally clear of the door Justin shut it behind him. Brian locked it. He was about to mention to Justin again about doors, locks, safety and its importance when he turned around. Justin dropped his shirt onto a pile of like colored clothing. He stepped out of his pants in the doorway to his bedroom.
Brian walked towards him and was startled when Justin lifted his duvet and with a forceful shake, knocked the contents of his bed to the floor. “There, now you can sleep.”
“There are books all over your floor.”
“Well, I’m not asking you to sleep on the floor.”
Brian shut his eyes and then opened them, as if somehow, he might magically make the books organize themselves.
“You sleep. I’ll get the bookcases together and the books put away, then I’ll join you.”
Justin shook his head. “You are no good to me if you’re too tired to fuck me when I wake up.”
Brian smirked and Justin gave him a dismissive glace. “Stop acting as if I find you irresistible. You’re convenient.”
“Especially if you’re already naked in my bed when I wake up.”
Brian stepped carefully around the books and had to admit he was impressed with the eclectic nature of the collection, not a Harry Potter book in sight.
Justin pulled the duvet up to his shoulders and settled his head down on his own pillow. Brian slid in carefully, as if afraid something might bite his toes. He put his head on the other pillow.
“See, not so scary.”
Brian huffed a sound that was neither agreement nor argument.
Justin smiled. He leaned over and kissed the corner of Brian’s mouth. Brian’s hand pulled him in for a deeper kiss and Justin’s tongue was soon pressing between Brian’s lips, then he pulled away. “Now, sleep. Later, fucking, then, whatever else we have to do for the case, then, more fucking, and then more sleep.”
“You’ve got our whole day planned.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Sleep, fuck, work, fuck, sleep. Sounds reasonable.”
“I forgot to add food but we’ll have to eat at some point.”
It was the last sound Justin heard before he slept.
Brian woke up the sound of Justin talking. He looked over but Justin seemed to still be asleep… and talking. He wasn’t making any sense. Brian shook him a little. Justin opened his eyes.
“Raspberry frozen yogurt.”
“Get up and we’ll go get some.”
“That’s what will fix this.”
“Raspberry frozen yogurt will fix what?”
Justin laid back down and was back asleep, no, still asleep, Brian amended. His partner was fucking weird.
He was awake, and not tired enough to go back to sleep. He stood up and cursed as a corner of a hardback bit into the arch of his foot. He stepped carefully out of the bedroom and rummaged around in the kitchen until he found the coffee. The coffee maker was new, and cheap, and he grimaced but made coffee. He found a set of mugs, none of which matched each other exactly. He took one out of the cabinet, washed it, and then poured himself a cup. He sat at the small tile topped table next to the kitchen in what he supposed was called a “dining nook” on the apartment floor plan and drank in silence waiting for Justin to start naming flavors again.
When he’d finished his second cup he could no longer stand staring at the boxes, and the piles of odds and ends on the floor, and then back at the boxes.
He opened one and read the directions. Allen wrench, glue and cam bolts in hand he began assembling the bookshelves. He finished the first one and considered waking Justin up to ask where he wanted them but decided against it. He put one next to the television and assembled the other, aligning it cattycorner with the wall next to the window in Justin’s bedroom. Justin didn’t stir.
He moved quietly and put all the books on the shelf, ordering them by subject and then alphabetically by author. Fiction he separated into genres.
He was placing the last one when Justin’s phone rang. Hoping it was Horvath with news he picked it up.
“I’m sorry. I have the wrong number.”
“Wait, are you looking for Justin?”
“Yes, who are you?”
Brian almost held the phone away from him and stared at it. “Who was he? Who was this woman calling Justin?” Then reality hit, “Justin’s asleep, can I take a message.”
“Asleep? It’s four thirty in the afternoon.”
“I’ll tell him you called. Whom should I say is calling?”
He heard a familiar sigh and a cold coil of tension wrapped itself around Brian’s stomach. “This is Jennifer Taylor.”
“Yes. You’re Brian I take it.”
“I’m his partner.”
“Tell him to call me.”
Jennifer hung up and Brian wanted to wake Justin up and yell at him, although he wasn’t quite sure for what.
Brian startled when the phone rang while it was still in his hand.
“I said I’d give him the message.”
“Oh, hi. It’s Kinney.”
“You’re answering Taylor’s phone?”
“He’s sleeping. What happened?”
“They found exactly what Justin described. And more. A lot of it’s going to the lab, we’re hoping we can find the toxin.”
“He’s willing to work with us.”
“So Babylon stays open.”
“And he knows Justin’s a cop?”
“No. He won’t know that unless the whole thing goes to trial. We’ve got another team working with him externally. You two are going to stay on the inside. He doesn’t know you’re working the case. He doesn’t know Justin’s on the force.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“We may be able to get some big dogs on this one.”
“Yeah, well, we do what we can.”
“Talk to you later.”
Brian hung up the phone. Justin sat up. His breathing rapid. Brian looked at him. “You okay?”
“Want some yogurt?”
Brian shook his head. “Nothing.”
“That’s my phone.”
“You answered my phone.”
“Twice. Call your mother.”
“She knew who I was.”
“The DA called.”
Brian recounted the information while he watched Justin who seemed to be calming down. He wondered if he had nightmares often. He noticed Justin looking around. “My shelves.”
“And no books on the floor.”
“You’ve been up a while.”
“And you redecorated my apartment.” Justin’s eyes narrowed and Brian realized that maybe he had, and maybe that was a controlling thing to do, and then he thought about all the mismatched mugs with the handles facing every which way, and all the books on the floor and the bookshelves that were just laying in the middle of the floor and he decided that if anyone’s life needed a little more control it was Justin’s. He stood, his arms crossed at his chest. “You weren’t going to have the time.”
“I might have.”
“I made coffee.”
Justin nodded and stood up. He tossed a few items of clothing from one pile to another and pulled on some sweat pants. He was staring at his cabinet of clean, ordered mugs and chose one, pouring the coffee and drinking it black. “You’ve got issues.”
Brian sat across from him and shook his head. “Things have a place, I put them there, how is that an issue?”
“These aren’t your things. This isn’t your place.”
“You need to buy a couple of hampers.”
“And more drawers.”
“And an area rug.”
“The living room looks…”
“Like it’s not yours.”
Brian decided the conversation was going in the wrong direction.
“You said, sleep, fuck, work, fuck, sleep.”
“Is coffee food?”
“We still haven’t fucked.”
Justin smiled. Why don’t we fix that?”
Brian stood up and offered his hand to Justin who accepted. “Let’s.”
Justin fell back onto the bed and Brian’s dropped his pants and fell on top of him. Justin was still in his sweatpants and Brian could feel the warm damp heat of the cotton against him as both their cocks leaked on either side of the fleece. Justin moaned a little and Brian leaned in to kiss him, his hands pulling at the drawstring and sliding the soft material over Justin’s hips.
Justin’s legs moved as he used his feet and the friction of the sheets to remove them totally. They were both naked now. Justin’s mouth finding the sensitive spot on Brian’s neck and nipping at it. Brian’s hands pulling Justin’s thighs around his waist, moving them ever closer.
He pulled back, and Justin reached into the nightstand for a condom and lube. He handed Brian the condom and flipped open the bottle of lube himself. He drizzled it onto his hand and reached out, stroking Brian’s cock, covering it in the now warm liquid. He rolled over then, moving his slicked fingers to his asshole and coating it liberally.
Brian wanted to grab his wrists, pull him away, plunge into him with abandon but he was too aware of how sudden moves sometimes affected Justin. Instead he pushed the head of his cock against Justin’s asshole.
Justin buried his head in the pillows and Brian almost came when both of Justin’s hand moved to his ass. His fingers sliding gently against Brian’s cock as he pushed them into his ass and pulled himself open. Brian bit his tongue. He concentrated on the small scratch in the headboard, on the book on the nightstand that should be on the bookshelf. On anything that wasn’t the image of Justin wantonly spread before him. He pushed into him, feeling his head slide past Justin’s fingers and then feeling Justin’s hands pull out, leaving him inside the tight hot sheath that was Justin. His hand slid up Justin’s back and found it’s way to his hair.
Justin moaned and pushed back against Brian. He was murmuring, “fuck me” then he was gritting it out, rough and demanding and Brian fucked him the way he was asking to be fucked, roughly, at a demanding pace. Justin met his movements with his own. His lubed hand jerking himself off while Brian wrapped an arm over his shoulder, finding his nipple ring and tugging at it.
Brian felt Justin’s orgasm approaching. Watched his rhythm become erratic, felt his own body respond in kind. His free hand reached down to join Justin's in stroking him off, while he angled down and prodded at Justin's prostate, eliciting groans and a sound of almost surprise, just as he felt the warm flood of Justin’s come on his hand.
The warmth combined with Justin’s ass convulsing around his cock brought Brian’s orgasm crashing over him and he collapsed on top of Justin’s prone form, his mouth worrying Justin’s ear. One hand trapped under Justin’s body he listened to Justin and was concerned. Was he crying? But he wasn’t. Justin laughed.
Brian rolled off of him. “You’re laughing.”
Justin rolled onto his back. Brian tied off the condom and looked for the trashcan. Justin pointed towards it. Brian shook his head and tossed the latex. “We’ll discuss the wrong-headedness of the placement of your trashcan in a moment. Why are you laughing?”
Justin shrugged. “Happens sometimes.”
“When you’re fucking?”
“Yeah, you’ve never laughed in bed?”
Brian thought about it. “No.”
“More’s the pity. Sex is supposed to be fun.”
“It is fun.”
“But you don’t smile or laugh.”
Brian sat up. “Nothing. Call your mother. I’m taking a shower.”
Justin followed Brian into the bathroom. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Worried? Pissed? Demanding? She’s a mom. They do that. I’ll call her tomorrow. She’ll live.”
Brian shrugged. “Your funeral.”
“How often do you call your mother?”
“I’m not twelve.”
Justin turned, glaring. He palmed Brian’s dick, wrapped his hands around it and stroked lightly, his gaze never wavering or softening.
“I’m not twelve. I’m not a momma’s boy. I’m not some little twink, or a charity case. I’m an adult, who’s currently about to make you come harder than anyone should after they’ve just come harder than anyone should. I have absolutely no issue with not fucking you again, with not being your friend, with not dealing with you in anything other than a strictly professional manner. I’m not threatening. I’m stating the facts. If you want to continue the way we’re going. Fucking, and working together and then fucking some more, you will stop acting as if I’m a high school student who needs training in the ways of the world. Do we have an agreement?”
Brian pushed into Justin’s hand and then pulled back. He pulled Justin to him and kissed him, gratified to feel Justin’s cock, hard and wanting against his hip. He wrapped his arms around Justin, practically lifting him off the floor as his mouth, his hands, his arms, his hips, all worked together to bring Justin to a frenzy. He laid him down then, ass against the bathmat, shoulders against the linoleum. Justin involuntarily wrapped a leg around Brian’s waist. His hands were in Brian’s hair and his tongue was sliding and curling around Brian’s. No part of them was separated. When Brian was sure Justin was lost to the feeling he stood back up. “I understand completely.”
And he stepped into the shower.
Justin stared at the ceiling, not sure what had just happened. That had never happened to him before. He’d had to tell other tricks, in no uncertain terms, that he was not some little fuck toy, some little gay boi, but he’d never had the tables turned so completely. Once his breathing was back to normal, his heart rate down to a reasonable facsimile of human and not jackrabbit, he stood up and joined Brian in the shower. As he knelt to lick Brian’s cock, sucking him into the back of his throat. Brian moaning, his hands fisted in Justin’s hair, Justin tried not to smile. A worthy adversary. It was novel, and exhilarating.
When they got out of the shower Brian tried to decide what was more aggravating, wearing the same clothes he’d worn over here, or watching Justin riffle through a pile of clothes on the floor of his closet looking for a shirt.
“I left the shirt I bought at your place.”
“So wear a different one.”
“Everything I own is…”
“Non twink like.”
“I doubt that.” He looked at Justin’s mutinous expression, remembered his impassioned speech and rolled his bottom lip into his mouth. “I’m sure we can find something.”
Justin shrugged and moved away gesturing for Brian to try his luck. Brian looked at the clothes hanging on the rack. He had to admit Justin was right. He may have the perfect twink physique but his taste was that of an adult. Button down shirts, sweaters in expensive blends of cotton, linen and wool, even his t-shirts were, Brian noticed, names he at least recognized.
“I used to live with a guy who had a thing for labels.”
Brain raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He was about to give up when something caught his eye. It was a long sleeve red t-shirt. He looked at the label and cringed. What he was about to do to this shirt was a crime. “Scissors?”
Justin looked at him oddly but walked away, shirtless, in his khaki cargo pants. He held them out to Brian and then pulled them back. “What are you planning on doing?”
Brian pushed the shirt over Justin’s head and then took the scissors from his hand as Justin pushed his arms through the sleeves. “Trust me.”
Justin snorted. Brian gave him a look. Justin’s demeanor softened. “I hate this shirt.”
“Good.” Brian pulled the fabric away from Justin’s body and made a snip he then slid the tip of the scissors into the hole he’d created and slowly, evenly cut the bottom of the shirt away from Justin’s body. He watched Justin flinch as the cold metal touched his skin.
“Relax. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He watched as Justin closed his eyes. Brian walked around Justin’s body, cutting slowly, and carefully. He kissed the back of Justin’s neck and continued around to where he’d begun. Justin stood up and Brian couldn’t take his eyes off of what he’d done. The pale expanse of Justin’s flat stomach. The red material that clung to Justin’s body, outlining his nipple ring. The soft downy hair that was just barely visible above the waistband of his khakis.
“Do I need that sign?”
Brian nodded. “And your badge, gun, passport, anything you’ve got. You look…”
Justin moved away to view himself in the full-length mirror that was leaning against the wall. “I should probably hang this.”
“I would have but I couldn’t find your drill.” Brian moved behind him, his hands sliding along the naked expanse of skin. His fingers gripping lightly and turning Justin around. “You look hot.”
Justin was about to respond when Brian dropped to his knees burying his face in Justin’s belly, licking at the soft skin, dipping his tongue into his navel. Justin’s hands were in Brian’s hair. His eyes closed. His head thrown back. “You always think I look hot.”
Brian didn’t bother to respond. He continued to allow himself to be intoxicated by the scent, feel, and essence of his partner. His arms wrapped around Justin’s waist, pulling him closer and then moved higher, palming his shoulder blades, moving forward and bunching the shirt up under Justin’s arms as he stroked his thumbs over Justin’s nipples.
Justin let out a gasp and Brian could feel Justin’s erection against his cheek. Justin's hands moved from Brian’s hair to his own waistband. He dropped his pants and Brian let Justin’s leaking cock sit against his face, feeling the warmth, taking in the smell of Justin’s arousal.
He pulled back a little and felt Justin move with him, towards him. He moved lower, sucking on Justin’s balls, nuzzling his nose at the spot behind them. He then showered Justin’s cock with light kisses and flicks of his tongue. Painting a wide swath from the base of his cock to the head. He flicked at the slit and felt Justin’s hands grip his hair even tighter. Eventually he took him to the back of his throat and Justin pumped into his mouth while Brian's hands left Justin’s hips and continued to stroke his torso, soft, pale, and perfect.
He felt Justin close to coming and moved one hand slowly between his cheeks, tapping lightly at his hole, not pushing for entrance, just teasing him, adding to the sensations and pleasure. Justin gasped and came. Brian’s arms wrapped around his hips holding him up.
When they were both a little more sure of their ability to stand Brian released his hold and stood up. He leaned down and kissed Justin, letting him taste himself on his tongue.
Justin moaned into Brian's mouth and then bent over, pulling up his khakis and reexamining his red shirt. “I think this could work.’
Brian smiled behind him. His broad hands almost entirely covering the tantalizing exposed flesh.
“I think so too.”