Fic: QAF "Toys for Boys" (3/3)
Title: “Toys for Boys” (3/3)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: You would be amazed by what technology can do these days! Brian/Justin from Brian's point of view.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to CowLip and Showtime. Damn them.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: Because happier_bunny demanded porn. References things that happened in 105 and 314, but it is set in early season four.
Earlier installments: Part One, Part Two
Title: “Toys for Boys” (3/3)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: You would be amazed by what technology can do these days! Brian/Justin from Brian's point of view.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to CowLip and Showtime. Damn them.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: Because happier_bunny demanded porn. References things that happened in 105 and 314, but it’s set in early season four.
Earlier installments: Part One, Part Two
Part Three: Welcome to Pittsburgh International Airport. Local Time is Five Oh Seven PM
There was something fundamentally fucked about flying through Chicago to get from Akron to Pittsburgh, cities separated by only 110 miles of paved highway. Brian looked out the airplane window and recalled how he’d practically decapitated Cynthia after she explained there were no nonstop jets between Pittsburgh and Akron. He’d have to change planes in Chicago, Philadelphia, Newark or Atlanta. Forced to choose one, he took Chicago: he’d get the frequent flyer miles on his preferred carrier and besides, the flight attendants on United were hotter than the ones on USAir or Delta any day.
As the plane touched down in Chicago, Brian rechecked his watch. They’d been late leaving Akron at lunchtime, some kind of equipment snafu, but the pilot made up time in the air, flying fast over Cleveland, Toledo and god knows where else to get them there. The chime to unbuckle sounded and passengers began gathering possessions, eager to leave. Brian pulled his suit bag and presentation case from overhead storage and stood patiently in the aisle, waiting for the jetway door to open. There ought to be enough time to call Justin and make his connecting flight, no problem.
When he got into the terminal, Brian double-checked the information board for his next flight, United 2467. Ah. There it is. Departures: Pittsburgh, gate C32. He began striding towards the nearby gate, his suit bag slung by a strap over one shoulder, the stiff-sided black portfolio under the same arm. A satisfied smile verging on full-blown smirk was lodged firmly on his face, getting stronger as he flipped open his cellphone and speed dialed his favorite blond.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Some of that smugness must have made its way through the phone line. “You sound pretty pleased with yourself. Spill. What happened?” Justin sounded impatient, and Brian laughed in response, coming to a stop and dropping his gear into a row of chairs at the departure gate. His next plane would take off in thirty minutes, but he could amuse Justin until then. “They loved it, didn’t they? Didn’t they?”
“Yeah, they did.” He’d come up with a great campaign slogan-“Telson Tires. The rubber you need. For your car, that is.” Only one problem: Brian was sure Marvin Telson wouldn’t buy it unless he let the man suck his cock, which he’d decided years ago wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
“Brian, that’s great. Did they sign a contract today?” Justin was bubbling over, eager to celebrate another Kinney triumph.
“Yeah.” Brian shook his head in amazement, even though Justin couldn’t see him do it. “Funny thing, that. I never saw Marvin; his wife was hospitalized. Emergency appendectomy. He left his son Thomas in charge, let him take the meeting.”
Brian couldn’t have been more surprised when he walked into the boardroom at 8:30 that morning, expecting 60-something Marvin and finding 20-something Thomas. He’d last seen Thomas in a photograph Marvin flashed him on the catwalk-Must be a first. Family photos at Babylon.-though he shoved the memories down hard as he crossed the boardroom to greet the attractive dark-haired youth. Brian tried not to smile too broadly when he shook Thomas’s hand, and then the pitch began.
“So, if Marvin wasn’t there, how could they sign the contract?” Justin sounded a little confused, and Brian could almost see the little wrinkle he got between his eyebrows when he didn’t understand something.
“He’s recently taken Thomas on as a full partner. Probably a mistake, the kid’s just out of college, but that’s what family businesses are like.” Brian licked his lips briefly, remembering the moment his gaydar pinged the young man. Like father, like son.
After the presentation was over, Thomas had hustled his father’s business associates out of the boardroom and was on his knees undoing Brian’s belt buckle before the oak paneled doors were completely shut. He wasn’t much of a cocksucker but he was young and enthusiastic, Brian conceded, though he remembered that Justin barely needed lessons to be a world-class dick swallower by age 18.
Like he always said, the boy was a genius.
Brian's mind snapped back to the here and now. “All that matters is he signed the paperwork. Telson is committed for a three-year deal with Kinnetik.” And Thomas can explain that one to Daddy Dearest when he gets back from the hospital. Brian smiled to himself as the airline representatives made the pre-boarding announcement, then summoned their first class passengers. “Hey, I’ve got to go.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the airport, about five.”
“Right. Later.”
+++
Somewhere past Fort Wayne but before they flew over Columbus, Brian stopped thinking about the Telson deal, and let his mind flip back to how the day began. He pulled his video iPod out and tapped the earbuds in place before shifting away from his neighbor in seat 3B to get a little more privacy. He’d transferred the captured streaming data file onto his iPod before the morning’s presentation, but this was the first time he’d gotten to watch JUSTINJERKS all the way through.
Soon, he could see Justin naked, wet and beautiful, which was damned hot, no doubt about it. The boy’s body rose out of a fog of steam and water like a fucking Botticelli, and watching him get so turned on he was ready to shoot was giving Brian a hard-on of his own.
Just one problem: no audio. He’d had no way to capture the sounds Justin made on the cellphone, and without the begging and desperation, this video wasn’t nearly as hot as it could be. After a few minutes, Brian turned off the screen and stared out the window, wishing he could get out and push the plane to make it fly faster. Nobody with a hard-on should be forced to wait another twenty-five minutes before getting to see the person who made him horny in the first place.
As he shifted restlessly in his seat, Brian’s mind raced through a series of disjointed thoughts.
First: they’d have to figure out how to synch a microphone to the webcam over the weekend. Brian had two more business trips scheduled in the next month, and damn if he wasn’t going to get better videos-with audio!-to take with him.
Second: if Justin wasn’t waiting at the airport and ready to fuck, he better have one helluva good excuse.
+++
When Flight 2467 landed, Brian had already made the calculations about 10 times in his head. As he pulled his bags from the overhead bin, he repeated Five minutes from the gate to the center of the terminal and another five minutes from there to baggage claim. Fifteen minutes from baggage claim to… Vibrations in his pocket had Brian fishing out his cellphone, ready to snipe at Justin if he couldn’t be at the airport like he’d promised.
But there wasn’t a caller on the line. Instead, two new picture messages had appeared in his inbox.
To: (878) 555-6969
From: (878) 555-8525
Subject: (None)
He clicked twice to pull the new picture up on his cellphone’s screen. The first was Justin, standing between luggage carousels M and N, a broad grin on his face. Knowing he was at the airport, right now, made Brian smile. Must’ve had somebody else take the picture.
Passengers began jostling up the aisle and off the plane, with Brian in their midst. Meanwhile, the next message had the same To and From lines, and Brian was stepping off the plane and into the jetway when he opened the second picture file.
The tiny screen showed the luggage carousels again, but it was focused on a door beyond them on the far wall. The message with the picture read
Guess where I’m going?
Huh? Better not be too far away, damnit!
Leave it to Justin to want a game of Hide and Fuck the Seeker when Brian was hornier than all get out. Brian started walking faster. He passed the few people who had gotten off the plane in front of him, and he gave thanks to a God he didn’t believe in that he had long legs that carried him the length of C Terminal even faster. He practically sprinted towards the double escalators leading down to the tram.
Brian got to the people-mover in near-record time, luckily catching one just before the doors closed and the tram departed for the Main terminal where Justin was waiting. Somewhere.
Brian was leaning back against the tram’s glass window, ready to delete the two pictures when the phone in his hand vibrated again. Brian shrugged the strap of his suit bag a little higher up, as he thumbed the new picture files open. This time, the doorway he’d seen in the distance in Justin's earlier photo was in close-up.
Men’s Restroom.
Brian would have laughed if the tram hadn’t suddenly shuddered to a halt, nearly making him drop the weighty portfolio. Among the mob of commuting passengers who all wanted to get off the people-mover at the same time, he barely managed to keep his balance. Another 30 seconds of waiting and he was off the tram, walking swiftly into the Main terminal, as he clicked the next picture open.
This one was a lot darker, but he could make out the details. Stark white urinals lining one wall, 5 steel grey stall doors on the other. Now Brian did laugh, even as he cleared security and stalked past the newsstands and food shops, following the usual signs towards “Baggage Claim.”
He’d finally gotten to the hall of moving luggage carousels when the phone vibrated again. Three more pictures in his inbox! Brian began dodging passengers with newly collected bags, moving between them at speed, as he opened the first one. A close-up of the last stall door, an extra-large stall against the far wall, the grey door pulled open by a hand. Justin’s hand.
Brian was weaving past carousels for USAir flights-C, D, E, where’s fucking M??!-as he paged forward to the next picture. Justin must’ve taken this one looking down at the stall floor: Brian could see his pants and briefs around his ankles, tufts of trimmed blond hair surrounding his upright cock in the foreground of the picture. Brian nearly tripped over an 80-year-old grandmotherly sort when he couldn’t take his eyes off the picture.
J, K, L, where’s the goddamned bathr- Brian had his target in sight as he flicked to the last cellphone picture. He was nearly to the bathroom door as the image popped on to the screen: a packet of lube squeezed empty and a latex disk, resting in Justin’s palm.
Where the hell are you? I’m waiting.
Brian clicked the phone off impatiently as he shouldered open the restroom door and yelled, “Justinnnnn!” The word was still carooming off the tile walls as Brian yanked the last stall door open, tossing his bag and case onto the floor.
Justin was leaning against a wall, one hand bracing himself, a streak of lube glistening down the crack of his buttocks. The grin he flashed Brian over his shoulder looked a tad smug, but Brian figured he’d earned it: this was hands-down the best welcome home he’d ever had.
Brian’s slacks were unzipped and the waiting condom over his cock mere seconds later, with his fingers curled over Justin’s on the wall as he took aim and plunged deep. No reunion kiss could be as hot as the fire spreading through him, crackling up towards his scalp and down to his toes. The dull sense of need-need-need inside him was replaced with the sharp awareness of everything Justin: his hair, his smell, the tightness of his ass, the feel of aching balls slapping against his skin.
Brian pushed his chin down into Justin’s shoulder, leveraging himself deeper as his lips sought and found those of his lover. Noses, mouths and teeth mashed together and that’s when Brian knew he was home, alright. Home.
Their tongues immediately dove and twisted around each other, each remapping well-known terrain that hadn’t been reclaimed for the last 36 hours. As Brian’s tongue swept over teeth and circled Justin’s tongue before diving farther inside, he heard Justin moan from a well-angled thrust. His lips smiled for an instant before he repeated the movement, his reward an even harsher moan that vibrated around his tongue.
In between thrusts, Justin started saying something. “Welcome…to Pittsburgh…International…Airport.” He began chuckling, laughter burbling up from his chest, vibrations Brian could feel through the hand he had splayed over Justin’s stomach.
Brian couldn’t help laughing in response, though it broke his rhythm. “Who are you? The fucking Visitors…Bureau?” He pressed up and in with the last word, forcing Justin to grunt in response, as Brian’s hips found the beat once more and began pounding away.
“No. Pittsburgh PoLICe…Porn..On Laptops…Internet..and Cellphones.” Justin squeezed hard on one of Brian’s forward thrusts, and held tight through the man’s groaning withdrawal.
“What the hell??” Brian muttered against his neck, trying desperately to stifle his laughter and get back to business, the business of sending Justin cock first through the tile wall and into insanity. He tilted his hips and drove homeward again, the smack of flesh upon flesh ricocheting off the walls with each repeated stroke.
Somehow, though, Justin wasn’t getting the message to shut up. Despite Brian’s very deliberate and dedicated efforts to fuck him senseless, Justin panted, “All part of…Mayor Deakins’…‘National Homo Week’…celebration….Didn’t you…read about it…in Out?”
Knowing that Justin wouldn’t stop cracking jokes now that he’d started, Brian silenced them both with another tongue-fucking kiss, the kind that would have made his vision swim if his eyes weren’t already welded shut. Tongue and cock worked in tandem now, sending their hearts racing fast, faster, beating so fucking fast Brian swore his chest was being drummed open from the inside by an entire marching band.
The hand on Justin’s stomach moved lower, tangling fingers in wiry blond pubes before gripping the base of his cock. The tip had a few drops of precum that Brian smeared over the cockhead before he began giving Justin’s dick a series of vigorous jerks. He released Justin’s lips and concentrated on matching his own thrusts to those of his hand.
Justin once told him that being caught in the middle between cock and hand was the best way to get fucked, because he was trapped and couldn’t ‘get away.’ Brian tightened his fingers, squeezing Justin’s shaft even more as he forced the cockhead to squirt out between his thumb and forefinger on every pass. All he heard from Justin now were moans that echoed the rhythm of Brian’s hips and hand.
The warmth that initially gripped Brian’s cock slowly built into a raging inferno, hotter than anything skin could endure. Each withdrawal cooled him briefly, each plunge like shoving a length of red-hot steel back into even hotter flames, throwing another wave of sparks outward, upward. He increased his speed, grinding himself deeper into Justin and circling his hips to catch the sensitive place that turned Justin into a writhing mindless mess.
Justin’s forehead was mashed into Brian’s cheek, the pale grey tile supporting both of them as Brian thrust, again and again. Justin’s muted groans of pleasure repeated his own, then Justin stuck his tongue out, licking Brian’s neck with more hot wet flesh and a gust of warm breath that sent a rush of heat through Brian’s entire body.
Like tumblers in a lock whose combination changed every time, tonight it was tongue-throat-lick-breath and now Brian was growling, actual words no longer possible. He thrust hard, up and in, while his hand jerked upwards too, abruptly, and he heard Justin groan one last time as warm come hit the wall and dribbled over his fingers.
Hot, much too hot, Justin's ass clamped down, around, everywhere, impossibly tight, and Brian’s body finally got what it had been waiting for since 30,000 feet over Columbus. Cock buried deep inside Pittsburgh’s finest bottom, Brian pumped two, three times, losing himself, losing everything. Lost.
+++
When Brian opened his eyes and turned to look at Justin, those baby blues were twinkling, a good match for the 'well-fucked' look on his face. “You gonna greet me like this every time I go away on a business trip, Justin?”
“No.”
Brian’s heart skip-thumped awkwardly.
“Did you know that the Ticketing and Baggage Claim terminal has a dozen restrooms? The ones up on the Mezzanine level look bigger, but I figured that today, you might be in a hurry.” Justin’s grin was just a little bit cocky.
“So whadda we do after the first 12 trips? Repeat?” That grin was definitely contagious.
“The Hyatt Regency, attached to the terminal? It’s got another 3 off the lobby.”
A pause. “Plus 336 guestrooms.”
+++
Author’s Notes: I've only ever changed planes at Pittsburgh, more's the pity.
For those who’ve never flown into the Pittsburgh airport, the website tells a lot, but the helpful folks at Airport Information couldn’t have been friendlier. (412.472.3525) The Pittsburgh Airport Hyatt is linked to the Main terminal by a moving sidewalk, and has amazing facilities, though I rather doubt Brian and Justin will see much of anything beyond the three lobby bathrooms. And those 336 bedrooms.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: You would be amazed by what technology can do these days! Brian/Justin from Brian's point of view.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to CowLip and Showtime. Damn them.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: Because happier_bunny demanded porn. References things that happened in 105 and 314, but it is set in early season four.
Earlier installments: Part One, Part Two
Title: “Toys for Boys” (3/3)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: You would be amazed by what technology can do these days! Brian/Justin from Brian's point of view.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to CowLip and Showtime. Damn them.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: Because happier_bunny demanded porn. References things that happened in 105 and 314, but it’s set in early season four.
Earlier installments: Part One, Part Two
Part Three: Welcome to Pittsburgh International Airport. Local Time is Five Oh Seven PM
There was something fundamentally fucked about flying through Chicago to get from Akron to Pittsburgh, cities separated by only 110 miles of paved highway. Brian looked out the airplane window and recalled how he’d practically decapitated Cynthia after she explained there were no nonstop jets between Pittsburgh and Akron. He’d have to change planes in Chicago, Philadelphia, Newark or Atlanta. Forced to choose one, he took Chicago: he’d get the frequent flyer miles on his preferred carrier and besides, the flight attendants on United were hotter than the ones on USAir or Delta any day.
As the plane touched down in Chicago, Brian rechecked his watch. They’d been late leaving Akron at lunchtime, some kind of equipment snafu, but the pilot made up time in the air, flying fast over Cleveland, Toledo and god knows where else to get them there. The chime to unbuckle sounded and passengers began gathering possessions, eager to leave. Brian pulled his suit bag and presentation case from overhead storage and stood patiently in the aisle, waiting for the jetway door to open. There ought to be enough time to call Justin and make his connecting flight, no problem.
When he got into the terminal, Brian double-checked the information board for his next flight, United 2467. Ah. There it is. Departures: Pittsburgh, gate C32. He began striding towards the nearby gate, his suit bag slung by a strap over one shoulder, the stiff-sided black portfolio under the same arm. A satisfied smile verging on full-blown smirk was lodged firmly on his face, getting stronger as he flipped open his cellphone and speed dialed his favorite blond.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Some of that smugness must have made its way through the phone line. “You sound pretty pleased with yourself. Spill. What happened?” Justin sounded impatient, and Brian laughed in response, coming to a stop and dropping his gear into a row of chairs at the departure gate. His next plane would take off in thirty minutes, but he could amuse Justin until then. “They loved it, didn’t they? Didn’t they?”
“Yeah, they did.” He’d come up with a great campaign slogan-“Telson Tires. The rubber you need. For your car, that is.” Only one problem: Brian was sure Marvin Telson wouldn’t buy it unless he let the man suck his cock, which he’d decided years ago wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
“Brian, that’s great. Did they sign a contract today?” Justin was bubbling over, eager to celebrate another Kinney triumph.
“Yeah.” Brian shook his head in amazement, even though Justin couldn’t see him do it. “Funny thing, that. I never saw Marvin; his wife was hospitalized. Emergency appendectomy. He left his son Thomas in charge, let him take the meeting.”
Brian couldn’t have been more surprised when he walked into the boardroom at 8:30 that morning, expecting 60-something Marvin and finding 20-something Thomas. He’d last seen Thomas in a photograph Marvin flashed him on the catwalk-Must be a first. Family photos at Babylon.-though he shoved the memories down hard as he crossed the boardroom to greet the attractive dark-haired youth. Brian tried not to smile too broadly when he shook Thomas’s hand, and then the pitch began.
“So, if Marvin wasn’t there, how could they sign the contract?” Justin sounded a little confused, and Brian could almost see the little wrinkle he got between his eyebrows when he didn’t understand something.
“He’s recently taken Thomas on as a full partner. Probably a mistake, the kid’s just out of college, but that’s what family businesses are like.” Brian licked his lips briefly, remembering the moment his gaydar pinged the young man. Like father, like son.
After the presentation was over, Thomas had hustled his father’s business associates out of the boardroom and was on his knees undoing Brian’s belt buckle before the oak paneled doors were completely shut. He wasn’t much of a cocksucker but he was young and enthusiastic, Brian conceded, though he remembered that Justin barely needed lessons to be a world-class dick swallower by age 18.
Like he always said, the boy was a genius.
Brian's mind snapped back to the here and now. “All that matters is he signed the paperwork. Telson is committed for a three-year deal with Kinnetik.” And Thomas can explain that one to Daddy Dearest when he gets back from the hospital. Brian smiled to himself as the airline representatives made the pre-boarding announcement, then summoned their first class passengers. “Hey, I’ve got to go.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the airport, about five.”
“Right. Later.”
+++
Somewhere past Fort Wayne but before they flew over Columbus, Brian stopped thinking about the Telson deal, and let his mind flip back to how the day began. He pulled his video iPod out and tapped the earbuds in place before shifting away from his neighbor in seat 3B to get a little more privacy. He’d transferred the captured streaming data file onto his iPod before the morning’s presentation, but this was the first time he’d gotten to watch JUSTINJERKS all the way through.
Soon, he could see Justin naked, wet and beautiful, which was damned hot, no doubt about it. The boy’s body rose out of a fog of steam and water like a fucking Botticelli, and watching him get so turned on he was ready to shoot was giving Brian a hard-on of his own.
Just one problem: no audio. He’d had no way to capture the sounds Justin made on the cellphone, and without the begging and desperation, this video wasn’t nearly as hot as it could be. After a few minutes, Brian turned off the screen and stared out the window, wishing he could get out and push the plane to make it fly faster. Nobody with a hard-on should be forced to wait another twenty-five minutes before getting to see the person who made him horny in the first place.
As he shifted restlessly in his seat, Brian’s mind raced through a series of disjointed thoughts.
First: they’d have to figure out how to synch a microphone to the webcam over the weekend. Brian had two more business trips scheduled in the next month, and damn if he wasn’t going to get better videos-with audio!-to take with him.
Second: if Justin wasn’t waiting at the airport and ready to fuck, he better have one helluva good excuse.
+++
When Flight 2467 landed, Brian had already made the calculations about 10 times in his head. As he pulled his bags from the overhead bin, he repeated Five minutes from the gate to the center of the terminal and another five minutes from there to baggage claim. Fifteen minutes from baggage claim to… Vibrations in his pocket had Brian fishing out his cellphone, ready to snipe at Justin if he couldn’t be at the airport like he’d promised.
But there wasn’t a caller on the line. Instead, two new picture messages had appeared in his inbox.
To: (878) 555-6969
From: (878) 555-8525
Subject: (None)
He clicked twice to pull the new picture up on his cellphone’s screen. The first was Justin, standing between luggage carousels M and N, a broad grin on his face. Knowing he was at the airport, right now, made Brian smile. Must’ve had somebody else take the picture.
Passengers began jostling up the aisle and off the plane, with Brian in their midst. Meanwhile, the next message had the same To and From lines, and Brian was stepping off the plane and into the jetway when he opened the second picture file.
The tiny screen showed the luggage carousels again, but it was focused on a door beyond them on the far wall. The message with the picture read
Guess where I’m going?
Huh? Better not be too far away, damnit!
Leave it to Justin to want a game of Hide and Fuck the Seeker when Brian was hornier than all get out. Brian started walking faster. He passed the few people who had gotten off the plane in front of him, and he gave thanks to a God he didn’t believe in that he had long legs that carried him the length of C Terminal even faster. He practically sprinted towards the double escalators leading down to the tram.
Brian got to the people-mover in near-record time, luckily catching one just before the doors closed and the tram departed for the Main terminal where Justin was waiting. Somewhere.
Brian was leaning back against the tram’s glass window, ready to delete the two pictures when the phone in his hand vibrated again. Brian shrugged the strap of his suit bag a little higher up, as he thumbed the new picture files open. This time, the doorway he’d seen in the distance in Justin's earlier photo was in close-up.
Men’s Restroom.
Brian would have laughed if the tram hadn’t suddenly shuddered to a halt, nearly making him drop the weighty portfolio. Among the mob of commuting passengers who all wanted to get off the people-mover at the same time, he barely managed to keep his balance. Another 30 seconds of waiting and he was off the tram, walking swiftly into the Main terminal, as he clicked the next picture open.
This one was a lot darker, but he could make out the details. Stark white urinals lining one wall, 5 steel grey stall doors on the other. Now Brian did laugh, even as he cleared security and stalked past the newsstands and food shops, following the usual signs towards “Baggage Claim.”
He’d finally gotten to the hall of moving luggage carousels when the phone vibrated again. Three more pictures in his inbox! Brian began dodging passengers with newly collected bags, moving between them at speed, as he opened the first one. A close-up of the last stall door, an extra-large stall against the far wall, the grey door pulled open by a hand. Justin’s hand.
Brian was weaving past carousels for USAir flights-C, D, E, where’s fucking M??!-as he paged forward to the next picture. Justin must’ve taken this one looking down at the stall floor: Brian could see his pants and briefs around his ankles, tufts of trimmed blond hair surrounding his upright cock in the foreground of the picture. Brian nearly tripped over an 80-year-old grandmotherly sort when he couldn’t take his eyes off the picture.
J, K, L, where’s the goddamned bathr- Brian had his target in sight as he flicked to the last cellphone picture. He was nearly to the bathroom door as the image popped on to the screen: a packet of lube squeezed empty and a latex disk, resting in Justin’s palm.
Where the hell are you? I’m waiting.
Brian clicked the phone off impatiently as he shouldered open the restroom door and yelled, “Justinnnnn!” The word was still carooming off the tile walls as Brian yanked the last stall door open, tossing his bag and case onto the floor.
Justin was leaning against a wall, one hand bracing himself, a streak of lube glistening down the crack of his buttocks. The grin he flashed Brian over his shoulder looked a tad smug, but Brian figured he’d earned it: this was hands-down the best welcome home he’d ever had.
Brian’s slacks were unzipped and the waiting condom over his cock mere seconds later, with his fingers curled over Justin’s on the wall as he took aim and plunged deep. No reunion kiss could be as hot as the fire spreading through him, crackling up towards his scalp and down to his toes. The dull sense of need-need-need inside him was replaced with the sharp awareness of everything Justin: his hair, his smell, the tightness of his ass, the feel of aching balls slapping against his skin.
Brian pushed his chin down into Justin’s shoulder, leveraging himself deeper as his lips sought and found those of his lover. Noses, mouths and teeth mashed together and that’s when Brian knew he was home, alright. Home.
Their tongues immediately dove and twisted around each other, each remapping well-known terrain that hadn’t been reclaimed for the last 36 hours. As Brian’s tongue swept over teeth and circled Justin’s tongue before diving farther inside, he heard Justin moan from a well-angled thrust. His lips smiled for an instant before he repeated the movement, his reward an even harsher moan that vibrated around his tongue.
In between thrusts, Justin started saying something. “Welcome…to Pittsburgh…International…Airport.” He began chuckling, laughter burbling up from his chest, vibrations Brian could feel through the hand he had splayed over Justin’s stomach.
Brian couldn’t help laughing in response, though it broke his rhythm. “Who are you? The fucking Visitors…Bureau?” He pressed up and in with the last word, forcing Justin to grunt in response, as Brian’s hips found the beat once more and began pounding away.
“No. Pittsburgh PoLICe…Porn..On Laptops…Internet..and Cellphones.” Justin squeezed hard on one of Brian’s forward thrusts, and held tight through the man’s groaning withdrawal.
“What the hell??” Brian muttered against his neck, trying desperately to stifle his laughter and get back to business, the business of sending Justin cock first through the tile wall and into insanity. He tilted his hips and drove homeward again, the smack of flesh upon flesh ricocheting off the walls with each repeated stroke.
Somehow, though, Justin wasn’t getting the message to shut up. Despite Brian’s very deliberate and dedicated efforts to fuck him senseless, Justin panted, “All part of…Mayor Deakins’…‘National Homo Week’…celebration….Didn’t you…read about it…in Out?”
Knowing that Justin wouldn’t stop cracking jokes now that he’d started, Brian silenced them both with another tongue-fucking kiss, the kind that would have made his vision swim if his eyes weren’t already welded shut. Tongue and cock worked in tandem now, sending their hearts racing fast, faster, beating so fucking fast Brian swore his chest was being drummed open from the inside by an entire marching band.
The hand on Justin’s stomach moved lower, tangling fingers in wiry blond pubes before gripping the base of his cock. The tip had a few drops of precum that Brian smeared over the cockhead before he began giving Justin’s dick a series of vigorous jerks. He released Justin’s lips and concentrated on matching his own thrusts to those of his hand.
Justin once told him that being caught in the middle between cock and hand was the best way to get fucked, because he was trapped and couldn’t ‘get away.’ Brian tightened his fingers, squeezing Justin’s shaft even more as he forced the cockhead to squirt out between his thumb and forefinger on every pass. All he heard from Justin now were moans that echoed the rhythm of Brian’s hips and hand.
The warmth that initially gripped Brian’s cock slowly built into a raging inferno, hotter than anything skin could endure. Each withdrawal cooled him briefly, each plunge like shoving a length of red-hot steel back into even hotter flames, throwing another wave of sparks outward, upward. He increased his speed, grinding himself deeper into Justin and circling his hips to catch the sensitive place that turned Justin into a writhing mindless mess.
Justin’s forehead was mashed into Brian’s cheek, the pale grey tile supporting both of them as Brian thrust, again and again. Justin’s muted groans of pleasure repeated his own, then Justin stuck his tongue out, licking Brian’s neck with more hot wet flesh and a gust of warm breath that sent a rush of heat through Brian’s entire body.
Like tumblers in a lock whose combination changed every time, tonight it was tongue-throat-lick-breath and now Brian was growling, actual words no longer possible. He thrust hard, up and in, while his hand jerked upwards too, abruptly, and he heard Justin groan one last time as warm come hit the wall and dribbled over his fingers.
Hot, much too hot, Justin's ass clamped down, around, everywhere, impossibly tight, and Brian’s body finally got what it had been waiting for since 30,000 feet over Columbus. Cock buried deep inside Pittsburgh’s finest bottom, Brian pumped two, three times, losing himself, losing everything. Lost.
+++
When Brian opened his eyes and turned to look at Justin, those baby blues were twinkling, a good match for the 'well-fucked' look on his face. “You gonna greet me like this every time I go away on a business trip, Justin?”
“No.”
Brian’s heart skip-thumped awkwardly.
“Did you know that the Ticketing and Baggage Claim terminal has a dozen restrooms? The ones up on the Mezzanine level look bigger, but I figured that today, you might be in a hurry.” Justin’s grin was just a little bit cocky.
“So whadda we do after the first 12 trips? Repeat?” That grin was definitely contagious.
“The Hyatt Regency, attached to the terminal? It’s got another 3 off the lobby.”
A pause. “Plus 336 guestrooms.”
+++
Author’s Notes: I've only ever changed planes at Pittsburgh, more's the pity.
For those who’ve never flown into the Pittsburgh airport, the website tells a lot, but the helpful folks at Airport Information couldn’t have been friendlier. (412.472.3525) The Pittsburgh Airport Hyatt is linked to the Main terminal by a moving sidewalk, and has amazing facilities, though I rather doubt Brian and Justin will see much of anything beyond the three lobby bathrooms. And those 336 bedrooms.