Oh, Reckless Abandon
Title: Oh, Reckless Abandon
Author: blushemphasises/tinydancer
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Late S1 (sometime between S1E18-E19)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1429 words
Summary: Apparently, there’s only so much annoyingly persistent, borderline-stalkerish, wide-smiled blond twink one man can take until finally, he cracks. Just another night at Babylon.
A/N: On AO3
The song has a fast tempo; Brian can hear it through the thin walls in the backroom. He feels the bass vibrating under his feet where the trick is kneeling between Brian’s legs, dark head bobbing up and down, not quite matching the tempo but almost. Everything is tinted with a familiar, almost sickly shade of red, the type that still flickers under Brian’s eyes even after he closes them. And they’re closed as he leans his head back against the wall and the trick is speeding up, finally matching the tempo - up, down, up, down.
Behind his eyelids, there’s a flash of blonde hair, a smooth expanse of cream-coloured skin and rosy pink lips, wet and full.
It’s all Brian can do not to groan out loud.
He came in here to get off, not to fantasise about some blonde little twink just as he’s about to shoot his load. Sure, it doesn’t happen often enough to feel like it’s a serious problem, but it does happen occasionally and that’s enough to piss Brian off. He hates Justin for it. Maybe hates himself for it, too.
Brian comes with a quick, silent shout.
He’s pulling up his jeans as the trick opens his mouth again, this time to actually fucking talk. Fuck that, Brian thinks and he’s already half way out of the backroom and into a world of gyrating sweaty sea of bodies. He spots Mikey and the rest of the gang hanging out by the bar and saunters up to them with practiced ease. He’s hardly had a word out before Brian’s under the firing range by one Michael Novotny.
“Brian,” Mikey starts after waiting for Brian to order his drink. “You’ve been griping at me for never coming to Babylon anymore and when I finally show up, you’re out in the backroom.”
Brian can’t say much to that. He didn’t know that Mikey would be here, and without David no less. So he shrugs, “He was hot. I needed to get sucked.”
“Yeah, what else is new?” Michael says, but there’s a slight grin playing at his mouth.
Brian eases his shoulders and throws an arm around his best friend. “Mikey, look around you. The room is filled with insatiable, hot horny men who have either just fucked or been fucked, or they’re waiting for a fuck. I needed my dick sucked, so here I am.”
Michael scoffs, “I’ve heard people actually come here to - wait for it, to dance. You know, since there’s music and a dance floor.”
“Honey, everyone knows that if you’re lucky enough, the dancing’s just a bit of foreplay,” Emmett butts in. Brian’s about to reply but fucking Ted of all people interrupts him.
“I don’t know… Justin’s been out there for what, ten, fifteen minutes?” He nods towards the dance floor. “Since he’s ignoring all those come-ons, looks like he’s dancing for the hell of it.”
Brian takes a swallow of his drink while Emmett pointedly tells the boys that Justin’s obviously waiting for someone special. He casually throws a glance towards the dance floor and spots Justin almost immediately, his blonde hair a shock in the dark lights and his t-shirt sticking to his body with sweat. Sure enough, he looks like he’s in his own little world - lost in the music with his eyes closed, ass swerving and swaying to the beat.
It’s fucking uncanny, but it’s like Justin had somehow sensed Brian looking at him, because suddenly, the boy’s eyes are open - looking directly at Brian between all the moving bodies, his smile wide and inviting.
Brian takes another swig.
Stupid kid. Justin should know by now that there’s no way in hell Brian’s going to go follow after him, so why pretend like he would? Justin’s still smiling at Brian and it’s unnerving because Brian’s waiting, anticipating for the moment when Justin will just stop dancing and bounce over to wherever Brian is like he always does.
But he doesn’t, well he hasn’t yet - he smiles at Brian and then turns away. The dancing doesn’t stop.
Brian strikes up a conversation with Mikey, asking how the good Doctor is, and then let’s Mikey do all the talking while they’re leaning against the bar facing the dancers.
It must be some kind of themed night at Babylon; the go-go boys are dressed in skimpy golden thongs and their bodies painted silver, the shimmer giving out an almost ethereal glow under the flashing lights.
Brian’s replying to Mikey at all the right times but his mind and eyes keep wandering. He doesn’t know where Justin had learned to dance like that. It sure as hell wasn’t at the country club those WASP parents of his are so fond of. Justin’s dancing - there’s a certain undeniable sexuality in his movements, even if it’s the simple way he’s swerving around. It’s probably more his demeanour than his skill, though the kid doesn’t seem to be lacking in that either.
And Brian’s not the only one who noticed. Any other night, Justin’s ass manages to catch the eye of more than a few guys. But tonight, tonight Justin seems to fit with the theme perfectly, all golden and silver under the lights and it’s fucking magnetising. But it seems like Ted had been right for once, Justin manages to dance with a few guys every now and then, but before long he glides and sashays past them. Emmett had been right too, he’s waiting for someone special. Fuck.
Stupid fucking kid. Why doesn’t he just come over to Brian like he usually does? Why delay the whole fucking thing? And when was the last time he had fucked Justin, anyway? Was it the night before last? Or maybe the one before that. Justin had been working an evening shift at the Diner and asked Brian for a lift home. Brian had taken him to the loft instead and fucked the living daylights out of him. Afterwards, they were eating take-out when Justin had told Brian about sending his acceptance letter to PIFA. Brian wasn’t prepared for the surge of pride he had felt, but all he had said was “Good.” And Justin had smiled anyway, wide and bright. Now, as Brian watches Justin dance, he wonders if the kid is celebrating the momentous decision. It isn’t unlikely.
The thought startles Brian into actually wanting to celebrate with Justin, and if that isn’t totally fucked, Brian doesn’t know what is.
Apparently, there’s only so much annoyingly persistent, borderline-stalkerish, wide-smiled blond twink one man can take until finally, he cracks. So, Brian wants to go out there and fucking celebrate with Justin. So he wants Justin, so what?
If he hadn’t known Justin until now, if this were the first time he’s laying eyes on him, Brian would already be stepping up to the kid, claiming him for the night. Shit, tonight Justin was practically glowing and radiating sex, it wouldn’t have mattered that he’s not Brian’s usual type. “Had a busy night?” Brian would have asked.
But he can’t treat Justin like he’s a trick, not anymore. Stepping up to him would not be without consequence, because it would fucking mean something.
Shit. Since when did Brian start overthinking these things? It’s only Justin. Okay, so maybe it’d send out the image that Brian Kinney, the stud of Liberty Avenue, was after the blond twink again. But right now, at this particular moment, Brian couldn’t care less. And shit, if that thought wasn’t a little liberating. So he’s going after one of the most wanted men in Babylon tonight, who would blame him anyway? And as he pushes himself off of side of the bar, a voice in his head goes,well fucking finally.
It doesn’t take long for Brian to reach Justin, manoeuvring through the endless stream of bodies without much effort. Justin’s still dancing of course, there are little bits of golden confetti in his hair, some have even fallen onto his bare shoulders. What had Brian said to Justin the other night here in Babylon? Something like, there’s no turning back?
Brian kisses him, taking away whatever type of hello Justin had planned. Justin doesn’t hesitate, he gives back as good as he gets, nipping, sucking and even biting, the little shit.
After they break the kiss Justin says, “Brian!” in that breathy-laugh thing he does. And then he doesn’t say anything else, only reaching up around Brian’s neck and pulling him down for another kiss.
Brian lets him. What the fuck does he have to lose, anyway?
Author: blushemphasises/tinydancer
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Late S1 (sometime between S1E18-E19)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1429 words
Summary: Apparently, there’s only so much annoyingly persistent, borderline-stalkerish, wide-smiled blond twink one man can take until finally, he cracks. Just another night at Babylon.
A/N: On AO3
The song has a fast tempo; Brian can hear it through the thin walls in the backroom. He feels the bass vibrating under his feet where the trick is kneeling between Brian’s legs, dark head bobbing up and down, not quite matching the tempo but almost. Everything is tinted with a familiar, almost sickly shade of red, the type that still flickers under Brian’s eyes even after he closes them. And they’re closed as he leans his head back against the wall and the trick is speeding up, finally matching the tempo - up, down, up, down.
Behind his eyelids, there’s a flash of blonde hair, a smooth expanse of cream-coloured skin and rosy pink lips, wet and full.
It’s all Brian can do not to groan out loud.
He came in here to get off, not to fantasise about some blonde little twink just as he’s about to shoot his load. Sure, it doesn’t happen often enough to feel like it’s a serious problem, but it does happen occasionally and that’s enough to piss Brian off. He hates Justin for it. Maybe hates himself for it, too.
Brian comes with a quick, silent shout.
He’s pulling up his jeans as the trick opens his mouth again, this time to actually fucking talk. Fuck that, Brian thinks and he’s already half way out of the backroom and into a world of gyrating sweaty sea of bodies. He spots Mikey and the rest of the gang hanging out by the bar and saunters up to them with practiced ease. He’s hardly had a word out before Brian’s under the firing range by one Michael Novotny.
“Brian,” Mikey starts after waiting for Brian to order his drink. “You’ve been griping at me for never coming to Babylon anymore and when I finally show up, you’re out in the backroom.”
Brian can’t say much to that. He didn’t know that Mikey would be here, and without David no less. So he shrugs, “He was hot. I needed to get sucked.”
“Yeah, what else is new?” Michael says, but there’s a slight grin playing at his mouth.
Brian eases his shoulders and throws an arm around his best friend. “Mikey, look around you. The room is filled with insatiable, hot horny men who have either just fucked or been fucked, or they’re waiting for a fuck. I needed my dick sucked, so here I am.”
Michael scoffs, “I’ve heard people actually come here to - wait for it, to dance. You know, since there’s music and a dance floor.”
“Honey, everyone knows that if you’re lucky enough, the dancing’s just a bit of foreplay,” Emmett butts in. Brian’s about to reply but fucking Ted of all people interrupts him.
“I don’t know… Justin’s been out there for what, ten, fifteen minutes?” He nods towards the dance floor. “Since he’s ignoring all those come-ons, looks like he’s dancing for the hell of it.”
Brian takes a swallow of his drink while Emmett pointedly tells the boys that Justin’s obviously waiting for someone special. He casually throws a glance towards the dance floor and spots Justin almost immediately, his blonde hair a shock in the dark lights and his t-shirt sticking to his body with sweat. Sure enough, he looks like he’s in his own little world - lost in the music with his eyes closed, ass swerving and swaying to the beat.
It’s fucking uncanny, but it’s like Justin had somehow sensed Brian looking at him, because suddenly, the boy’s eyes are open - looking directly at Brian between all the moving bodies, his smile wide and inviting.
Brian takes another swig.
Stupid kid. Justin should know by now that there’s no way in hell Brian’s going to go follow after him, so why pretend like he would? Justin’s still smiling at Brian and it’s unnerving because Brian’s waiting, anticipating for the moment when Justin will just stop dancing and bounce over to wherever Brian is like he always does.
But he doesn’t, well he hasn’t yet - he smiles at Brian and then turns away. The dancing doesn’t stop.
Brian strikes up a conversation with Mikey, asking how the good Doctor is, and then let’s Mikey do all the talking while they’re leaning against the bar facing the dancers.
It must be some kind of themed night at Babylon; the go-go boys are dressed in skimpy golden thongs and their bodies painted silver, the shimmer giving out an almost ethereal glow under the flashing lights.
Brian’s replying to Mikey at all the right times but his mind and eyes keep wandering. He doesn’t know where Justin had learned to dance like that. It sure as hell wasn’t at the country club those WASP parents of his are so fond of. Justin’s dancing - there’s a certain undeniable sexuality in his movements, even if it’s the simple way he’s swerving around. It’s probably more his demeanour than his skill, though the kid doesn’t seem to be lacking in that either.
And Brian’s not the only one who noticed. Any other night, Justin’s ass manages to catch the eye of more than a few guys. But tonight, tonight Justin seems to fit with the theme perfectly, all golden and silver under the lights and it’s fucking magnetising. But it seems like Ted had been right for once, Justin manages to dance with a few guys every now and then, but before long he glides and sashays past them. Emmett had been right too, he’s waiting for someone special. Fuck.
Stupid fucking kid. Why doesn’t he just come over to Brian like he usually does? Why delay the whole fucking thing? And when was the last time he had fucked Justin, anyway? Was it the night before last? Or maybe the one before that. Justin had been working an evening shift at the Diner and asked Brian for a lift home. Brian had taken him to the loft instead and fucked the living daylights out of him. Afterwards, they were eating take-out when Justin had told Brian about sending his acceptance letter to PIFA. Brian wasn’t prepared for the surge of pride he had felt, but all he had said was “Good.” And Justin had smiled anyway, wide and bright. Now, as Brian watches Justin dance, he wonders if the kid is celebrating the momentous decision. It isn’t unlikely.
The thought startles Brian into actually wanting to celebrate with Justin, and if that isn’t totally fucked, Brian doesn’t know what is.
Apparently, there’s only so much annoyingly persistent, borderline-stalkerish, wide-smiled blond twink one man can take until finally, he cracks. So, Brian wants to go out there and fucking celebrate with Justin. So he wants Justin, so what?
If he hadn’t known Justin until now, if this were the first time he’s laying eyes on him, Brian would already be stepping up to the kid, claiming him for the night. Shit, tonight Justin was practically glowing and radiating sex, it wouldn’t have mattered that he’s not Brian’s usual type. “Had a busy night?” Brian would have asked.
But he can’t treat Justin like he’s a trick, not anymore. Stepping up to him would not be without consequence, because it would fucking mean something.
Shit. Since when did Brian start overthinking these things? It’s only Justin. Okay, so maybe it’d send out the image that Brian Kinney, the stud of Liberty Avenue, was after the blond twink again. But right now, at this particular moment, Brian couldn’t care less. And shit, if that thought wasn’t a little liberating. So he’s going after one of the most wanted men in Babylon tonight, who would blame him anyway? And as he pushes himself off of side of the bar, a voice in his head goes,well fucking finally.
It doesn’t take long for Brian to reach Justin, manoeuvring through the endless stream of bodies without much effort. Justin’s still dancing of course, there are little bits of golden confetti in his hair, some have even fallen onto his bare shoulders. What had Brian said to Justin the other night here in Babylon? Something like, there’s no turning back?
Brian kisses him, taking away whatever type of hello Justin had planned. Justin doesn’t hesitate, he gives back as good as he gets, nipping, sucking and even biting, the little shit.
After they break the kiss Justin says, “Brian!” in that breathy-laugh thing he does. And then he doesn’t say anything else, only reaching up around Brian’s neck and pulling him down for another kiss.
Brian lets him. What the fuck does he have to lose, anyway?