Chapter Text
Chapter One: A Totally Boring, Unremarkable, Mundane Day in the Kinney-Taylor household
The alarm clock goes off. It’s still dark outside because it’s late November, which makes getting up harder and the residents of the loft at the corner of Tremont and Fuller grumpier than usual.
Brian groans.
Justin groans.
“Really? Really?”
“Fuck.”
“It’s six already?”
“Yup. At least that’s what the clock says.”
“I hate the clock.”
“It hates you.”
“Clearly.”
“Ow.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My neck hurts.”
“It’s these new pillows. I’ll give you a neck rub in the shower.”
“Before or after the blowjob?”
“It’s up to you.”
Brian stretches and sits up. Friday. Thank God. He’ll have to work a bit on the weekend, but at least it won’t involve a client meeting. He’d had back-to-back meetings all week, and the other stuff he has to do kept piling up. Hopefully, he can make a significant dent in it today without having to stay late. He hated staying late at the office on Friday nights.
Justin reaches out and scratches Brian’s back like a giant, lazy cat. He loves Brian in the mornings – the way he smells like sleep and yawns cavernously.
Brian turns and catches Justin’s hand. He raises it to his mouth and gives it a little bite.
“Who gets the toilet first?”
“Whoever gets there first.”
“That’s not fair. Your side of the bed is closer.”
Brian stands and Justin launches himself at him, pulling him back down on the mattress and scrambling over him. Brian grabs him by the waist, and Justin squawks indignantly.
“No grabbing! It’s not fair!”
“There are rules? I wasn’t made privy to any rules.”
“Dammit, Brian! I really have to pee and you’re making matters worse.”
“Alright, alright. I will allow you to relieve yourself.”
“You’re so generous and kind.”
“I try.”
“But not very hard.”
“Actually, I’m quite hard.”
“I meant ‘hard’ as in ‘difficult.’”
“I know. I purposefully misunderstood you.”
“How can one ‘purposefully misunderstand’ something? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“Oh my God. Shut up. I’m dying here. Are you done yet? Why aren’t you done yet? Is it that you can’t be a smartass and piss at the same time?”
“Pushy, pushy. Here, the toilet’s all yours.”
Justin turns on the shower, laughing when Brian throws his head back with a groan of pleasure as he empties his bladder.
“Everything that involves your dick makes you happy.”
“And that’s a bad thing because?
“Not saying it’s a bad thing; I’m just making an observation.”
Brian shakes the last drops from his dick and joins Justin in the shower. He pours shampoo in his palm and starts massaging it into Justin’s hair.
“So, are you going to be as brilliant today as always?”
“Of course. I’m never not brilliant.”
Justin snorts. Brian’s fingers feel so good. Between the massage and the mint-scented shampoo, he feels himself coming to life. He is not a morning person. When Brian starts scrubbing his neck and back with a soapy cloth he closes his eyes and smiles. Life is good.
“Don’t fall back asleep.”
“I won’t. I don’t want to drown.”
“You can’t drown in a shower.”
“Turkeys would though – well, domesticated turkeys. The drops would get into their nose holes”
“Oh my God. What are you babbling about now?”
“I’m serious. Domestic turkeys are really dumb. They’ve had the brains bred out of them. You can provide them with shelter from the elements, but they’re too stupid to use it.”
“So, they drown.”
“Yup.”
“How do you know shit like that?”
Justin shrugs. “I don’t know. I just do.”
“Well, you’d better be careful and stay away from Wikipedia. You’ll overload your brain with random, useless shit.”
“Oh, I see. So instead of educating myself, I should watch porn.”
“Who says you’re not getting an education when you watch porn? I learned a lot for porn. Here, I’ll provide you with a demonstration.”
Brian lowers himself to him knees and tucks their water-proof cock-sucking pillow under them. Shower floors are hard! Justin cock is already swollen. Justin has a perfect cock – the right length, the right girth, the right color, the right taste. And it’s so responsive! Brian loves sucking it. He licks it teasingly for a while and then swallows it when its lurches and baps him in the nose.
Justin combs his fingers into Brian’s hair and looks down. He loves watching Brian suck him. There’s something about Brian on his knees servicing him that drives him mad with lust.
Brian sits back on his heels, releasing Justin’s cock with a slurpy “pop” sound. He holds up his hand. Justin doesn’t need to ask what he’s seeking. He gives Brian the bar of soap and then groans with bliss when Brian slides a soap-slick finger in his ass and recommences sucking his cock.
Brian relishes the sounds Justin is making. He always loves pleasuring Justin, but for some reason he enjoys doing it most in the morning. He loves waking Justin up. When Justin says his name, Brian redoubles his efforts. Justin fingers close into fists, pulling Brian’s hair. When he says Brian’s name, Brian pulls his finger out until only the very tip is inside. The rim of the asshole is intensely sensitive. He hums around his mouthful of cock, when Justin squeezes, trying desperately to keep Brian’s finger from slipping out all the way.
Jesus, Brian is so fucking good at sucking cock! Justin thinks and then falls over the edge of his orgasm. He can feel the muscles in Brian’s throat move as he swallows. Justin throws back his head and grins up at the ceiling. He loves thinking about his come in Brian’s stomach. The memory will cross his mind several times over the course of the morning.
Brian pulls his finger out and stands up, grinning when he sees Justin’s dazed expression.
“You just consumed about 75 to 100 calories,” Justin says. “I know you document your calorie intake, so be sure to add that to your calculations. Semen also contains 200 separate proteins, as well as vitamins and minerals including vitamin C, calcium, chlorine, citric acid, fructose, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, sodium, vitamin B12 and zinc.”
Brian boggles at him. “Nitrogen? Isn’t that an atomic element or something? Don’t people make bombs with it? Are you saying I swallowed a come bomb?”
Justin laughs and soaps up his hand so he can jerk Brian off. His cock is rigid and his balls already drawn up tight against his body.
“Yes, it’s atomic number seven on the periodic table. It comprises much of the Milky Way.”
Brian laughs. “Now, that is very fitting. Milky Way. I like it. I just sucked some of the Milky Way out of your balls.”
“Uhm. Okay. I guess so, but actually . . .”
“Don’t ruin my fun with your facts.”
They position themselves so that Justin is pressed against Brian’s back so he can reach around Brian’s waist and take his cock in hand.
“Want your beads?”
“That’s a really stupid question.”
“Just making sure.”
Justin retrieves the anal beads from the corner shelf and soaps them. Brian groans as he pushes them in. God, he loves putting things in Brian’s ass! He goes back to jerking Brian off until Brian takes over. It’s a sign that he’s ready to come. Slowly, Justin begins pulling out the beads, one by one. Brian comes just as the last leaves his body. It’s so ridiculously fucking hot.
“Good?”
“Very good. I like those new beads. The last one is just the right size.”
Brian is still boneless as Justin starts washing his back. The cloth is slightly scratchy and feels really good. He loves this – taking showers with Justin. When they’re clean and all the soap and shampoo is rinsed off. Brian turns off the shower and reaches for their towels, handing one to Justin.
Brian lathers his chin and throat with shaving cream. Justin shaved last night before they went out, so he doesn’t need to. But he loves watching Brian shave. He sits down on the lid of the toilet, and Brian smiles at him in the mirror.
“Ah, the benefits of being a twink,” Brian says as he rinses shaving cream and whiskers off his razor and then returns to his task. “You don’t need to shave every morning.”
“I am not a twink,” Justin says with mock indignation. “I’m a . . .”
“A twat. If you’re not a twink, you’re a twat.”
Justin rolls his eyes and examines his finger nails. They’re okay for the moment, but he’s going to have to trim them soon. If he doesn’t, Brian will start nagging him. Brian hates long fingernails – not only because he dislikes the way they look, but because it’s uncomfortable and potentially injurious when Justin fingers him. Rectal tissue tears easily.
Brian splashes water on his face and then pats it dry.
“So, anything interesting planned for the day?” he asks. He’s always curious. He has a hard time picturing Justin’s life at PIFA. He’s never been there. Perhaps he should ask Justin to give him a tour sometime. He likes being able to imagine where Justin is and what he’s doing.
“I’ve got art history at ten, and then I’m meeting Daphne for lunch . . .”
“God, you guys are practically Siamese twins. Don’t you want to make friends with fellow students?”
“ . . . then I’m meeting with my advisor, and then I have still-life at four.”
Brian frowns.
“How’s that going? Your hand bothering you?”
Justin reaches out and touches Brian’s shoulder, lightly grazing Brian’s skin from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. He’s always moved when Brian asks him about his hand.
“Not really. I just take my time.”
“What do you draw? Dead pheasants?”
Justin laughs. “Dead pheasants? What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t that what all those Dutch guys were always painting? Pheasants and grapes and shit?
They walk into the bedroom and start getting dressed. Justin’s gaze strays often in Brian’s direction. He loves watching Brian put on his suit and tie.
“You mean, like, Adriaen van Utrecht and Davidszoon de Heem?”
“‘Davidzoon?’ Who names their kid ‘Davidzoon’?”
Brian loves teasing Justin. It’s one of his favorite hobbies – along with fucking Justin, of course. That went without saying.
Justin ignores him.
“While it’s true that pheasants are a common subject of the Flemish masters, they also liked to paint fish. And skulls.”
“Human skulls?”
“Yup. There’s this one painting that’s a skull surrounded by lettuce and tomatoes.”
“Gross. Remind me never to eat a salad in Belgium.”
Justin punches him in the bicep. Brian is hopeless sometimes. There’s no having a serious conversation with him.
Finally dressed and primped to his satisfaction, Brian heads for the kitchen. He pulls the blender out of the cabinet and starts making a protein shake.
“Those really aren’t very good for you!” Justin yells over the noise.
Brian ignores him.
Justin sighs. He hates that Brian has protein shakes for breakfast. He wishes Brian would eat real food, but even though Justin has bought fruit and granola, Brian stubbornly refuses to touch them. It annoys the hell out of Justin. He wants Brian to be healthy.
Brian leans against the counter and watches Justin chop up a banana and put it in a bowl of Cheerios. He’s fondly amused by Justin’s frown of concentration – but then remembers it’s because of his hand. A familiar wave of guilt washes over him. He dumps the last half of his shake down the drain.
“Hurry up,” he snaps. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Then go without me,” Justin snaps back. “I can get to school on my own.”
Brian grumbles something under his breath. Justin always wins these little battles of will, but that doesn’t mean Brian isn’t a sore loser.
“Today.”
“We’re not late yet.”
Brian goes to the couch and flops down on it with an exaggerated sigh. Justin completely ignores him. He’s about to get truly annoyed, but then he remembers it’s Friday and relaxes.
Justin puts his empty bowl in the sink. Brian is sulking. It’s so cute.
“Ready.”
“About time.”
“You survived.”
“Barely. I was thinking about the whether I should be buried or cremated.”
“Cremated. Who wants to lie there for eternity surrounded by a bunch of rotting strangers?”
“Well, since you put it that way, I’ll go with cremation. Just make sure you scatter my ashes at Babylon.”
Justin laughs and stands on his toes to kiss Brian’s lips. Brian responds by closing his eyes and opening his mouth. A touch of tongue sends the blood rushing to his groin. He’s horny again. He’s always horny around Justin. He’ll have to jerk off when he gets to work.
Brian picks of his briefcase, and Justin hoists his bag onto his shoulder. They walk down the stairs and then out the back exit into the parking lot. It’s crisp, but not cold.
“Should’ve worn something with long sleeves,” Brian says as they get into the Jeep.
“Yes, dad,” Justin replies.
Brian scowls. Justin grins. Brian hates being referred to as “dad.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll warm up. It’s supposed to reach 70 today.”
Brian pulls out into traffic. Justin looks at his profile. He loves looking at Brian’s profile, but it also makes him feel a twinge of sadness that he can’t explain. Maybe it’s that Brian seems so distant when he’s not looking at him.
“Asshole,” Brian says, punching the horn. “Look before you change lanes, you moron.”
“No road rage. It’s too early in the morning.”
“That wasn’t ‘road rage.’ I didn’t yell out the window and flip him the bird. I was perfectly civilized.”
“I suppose it is all relative.”
It’s only 7:30. What’re you going to do before your first class?”
“Rob a bank.”
“Good, then I won’t have to pay for your tuition anymore.”
“And I’ll be able to support you in your imminent dotage.”
“Ha ha. . . . . Asshole!!”
“Now, that time you shouted. Maybe we should stop for coffee.”
“There’s no Starbucks out here in artsy-fartsy land. I’m not stopping at one of you guys’ hipster coffee shops. There might be a folksinger or, God forbid, a poetry reading going on.”
Brian grimaces and feigns a whole-body shudder. Justin punches his arm.
“You might like . . .”
“Let me just stop you there: I can assure you that I wouldn’t like anything taking place in one of the coffee shops around PIFA. As it is, I can barely tolerate the piercings, dreadlocks and body odor. By the way, what is it with you artist types and deodorant? Is it some kind of boycott? Is deodorant killing the Amazon rain forests?”
Justin turns toward the window and bites his lips to keep from laughing. Brian should not be encouraged.
“Actually, it’s true. Spray deodorants contain aerosol and, aerosols contain Chlorofluorocarbon which depletes the ozone layer and causes deforestation. Many of the world’s rain forests will be gone by the end of the century.”
“Oh no. Where will all the wombats and poisonous frogs go?”
Justin has to bite his lip again. Brian is hilarious, but he’s also . . . well, Justin didn’t always know when he was kidding. Maybe he really doesn’t care about the rain forests . . . If he doesn’t, Justin would prefer not to know.
“Wombats don’t live in rain forests.”
“Well, that’s good. They won’t need to relocate.”
“You are so weird sometimes.”
“I am not ‘weird.’ I am hung though.”
“Wow. That was a total non-sequitur.”
“Nothing involving my cock is ever a non-sequitur. Alright, here we are. Hurry up and get out. I’m late.”
“Have a nice day to you, too.”