QAF Fic: "Crime and Punishment," NC-17
After finishing The Long Way with the lovely and talented ragingpixie yesterday, it is now time to finally get my act together and post the ficlet that moose74 requested after winning me in the lottery for twistinside82's blogathon. The request was for an early S1 fic where Brian finds out that Justin stole his underwear in 101. Special thanks to triskymccloy for making it so easy peasy for me to go back and rewatch just the B/J scenes. *g* This is smut, set post-108.
Hope you like it, moose74!
When he's sure his parents aren’t there, Justin goes home to pick up more of his things. He whines and sighs and eventually Brian gives in and drives him over. Just to shut him up. He waits in the Jeep, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while he glances in the rearview, expecting Justin’s father at any minute. Brian isn’t in the mood for another showdown.
He knows he’ll win. Easily. But he can’t really be bothered.
Justin hurries out and smiles as he clambers back inside the Jeep. He’s practically giddy with excitement and Brian rolls his eyes as he steps on the gas. But he doesn’t complain when Justin fiddles with the radio and finds some crappy pop song to sing along to.
When they get home - no, when they get back to Brian’s loft - Justin announces he’s cooking again. Brian lets him do whatever he wants to do and goes to the computer to catch up on his email. Maybe to surf a few chat rooms while he’s at it.
But instead he gets caught up in some work bullshit (fucking clients don’t know what they want) and he’s too annoyed to look for hot dick on the net. Justin putters away in the kitchen, humming happily to himself while he listens to his Discman. Brian turns off the computer and ignores him as he stalks to the bedroom.
The bag Justin collected that afternoon sits on the bed, top open, some clothes and CDs spilling out. Brian sighs and picks it up, ready to throw it in the corner. But it tips over and everything ends up on the floor. In his fucking way. He starts to scoop it all up and is about to tell Justin to come and clean up his shit, but a white thong in his hand silences him.
He turns it over in his palm, looks at the familiar label, the familiar size.
The kid stole his fucking underwear.
Justin is still simmering something on the stove, but Brian strides in and turns the burners off.
“Hey!” Justin pulls his headphones down around his neck. “That’s not done yet.”
Brian says nothing, just holds up his hand, the thong hanging from his finger. “Care to explain this?”
Justin’s eyes go wide and he swallows. Hard. “Um, that’s your underwear, Brian.” He tries to brush it off with a joke. “You usually wear it under your pants.”
Not a bad attempt at casualness, Brian thinks. “Yes, it’s my underwear. Gold star for the pupil. But the question is: what was it doing in your possession?”
Justin smiles, nervous. “What? Brian, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Of course you don’t.” Brian smiles back, and Justin has the good sense to get even more nervous.
He turns back to the stove, but Brian has him up against one of the support poles in the living room in no time. Justin squeaks in surprise, but doesn’t resist as Brian uses the thong to tie Justin’s hands around the pole. He doesn’t make it too tight, but tight enough so Justin’s arms are pinned.
“You know that stealing has to be punished,” Brian whispers in his ear. His tongue darts out and Justin whimpers.
God, he’s so easy.
He yanks Justin’s pants down around his ankles, leaves his briefs on for now. They’re tight and white and Brian wouldn't admit it, but they make his dick hard. Fast. He pulls his own pants off and rubs up behind Justin, the cotton soft on his cock - just the right amount of friction.
Justin tries to arch back, and Brian slaps his ass. “Don’t move.”
He nods and Brian smiles at the fact that Justin’s eyes are squeezed shut. He presses up against him again, his whole body leaning in as his tongue swipes slowly across Justin’s neck. “Have you been a bad boy?”
“Yes,” Justin breathes.
Brian rips the briefs down, tears the fabric. “You need to be punished, don’t you?”
Justin jerks his head, an affirmation. He’s trembling and Brian thinks Justin might come at the mere thought of it. His hand strikes Justin’s ass with a loud smack. He does it again, alternating sides, making sure he won’t leave anything but red marks that will fade by tomorrow.
Justin moans and winces and finally he’s begging.
“What do you want?” Brian’s hand flashes down again.
“Fuck me. Oh my god, fuck me.” Justin’s voice is ragged.
Smack. “Clearly you need to learn some manners, young man.”
Justin needs a second to think about it before he pants, “Please fuck me. Please, please, please.”
“Well, since you said the magic word….” Brian slides a condom on and then he’s slamming into him, no lube and no need for it. It’s rough and Justin’s so tight and fuck, he has to stop for a second.
Just a second, though, and then he’s thrusting, Justin moaning yes, yes, yes, yes as Brian pounds into him. Brian covers Justin with his body, presses him harder against the cold metal, his hands moving around to grasp Justin’s outstretched arms.
After another minute, Justin’s knees start to give out. Brian holds him up, unwilling to have his cock be anywhere else for the time being. He reaches down and smacks Justin’s flesh and tells him again that he’s a bad, bad boy as he goes even deeper.
Justin shakes and gasps, his ass clenching as he comes, even though his cock hasn’t been touched. His mouth hangs open and he groans low in his throat, his body starting to sag. Brian clenches his fingers around one of Justin’s hips and speeds up his movements, coming with a quick, sharp shout.
For a few moments, they stand there, breath coming fast and furious. When Brian pulls out, Justin whimpers and starts to slide downwards. Brian reaches around and with a yank, undoes Justin’s hands. He lowers him to the floor and leaves him there to catch his breath while he gets cleaned up.
Pants back on and rumpled shirt in place once more, Brian returns to where Justin is splayed on the floor, his back against the pole, a stunned smile on his gaping lips. Brian presses a kiss to those lips as he pulls Justin to his feet. He reaches down and rubs his hand softly over the heated skin of Justin’s ass.
Brian grins, pushes his tongue into his cheek. “So, what’s for dinner?”
Hope you like it, moose74!
When he's sure his parents aren’t there, Justin goes home to pick up more of his things. He whines and sighs and eventually Brian gives in and drives him over. Just to shut him up. He waits in the Jeep, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while he glances in the rearview, expecting Justin’s father at any minute. Brian isn’t in the mood for another showdown.
He knows he’ll win. Easily. But he can’t really be bothered.
Justin hurries out and smiles as he clambers back inside the Jeep. He’s practically giddy with excitement and Brian rolls his eyes as he steps on the gas. But he doesn’t complain when Justin fiddles with the radio and finds some crappy pop song to sing along to.
When they get home - no, when they get back to Brian’s loft - Justin announces he’s cooking again. Brian lets him do whatever he wants to do and goes to the computer to catch up on his email. Maybe to surf a few chat rooms while he’s at it.
But instead he gets caught up in some work bullshit (fucking clients don’t know what they want) and he’s too annoyed to look for hot dick on the net. Justin putters away in the kitchen, humming happily to himself while he listens to his Discman. Brian turns off the computer and ignores him as he stalks to the bedroom.
The bag Justin collected that afternoon sits on the bed, top open, some clothes and CDs spilling out. Brian sighs and picks it up, ready to throw it in the corner. But it tips over and everything ends up on the floor. In his fucking way. He starts to scoop it all up and is about to tell Justin to come and clean up his shit, but a white thong in his hand silences him.
He turns it over in his palm, looks at the familiar label, the familiar size.
The kid stole his fucking underwear.
Justin is still simmering something on the stove, but Brian strides in and turns the burners off.
“Hey!” Justin pulls his headphones down around his neck. “That’s not done yet.”
Brian says nothing, just holds up his hand, the thong hanging from his finger. “Care to explain this?”
Justin’s eyes go wide and he swallows. Hard. “Um, that’s your underwear, Brian.” He tries to brush it off with a joke. “You usually wear it under your pants.”
Not a bad attempt at casualness, Brian thinks. “Yes, it’s my underwear. Gold star for the pupil. But the question is: what was it doing in your possession?”
Justin smiles, nervous. “What? Brian, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Of course you don’t.” Brian smiles back, and Justin has the good sense to get even more nervous.
He turns back to the stove, but Brian has him up against one of the support poles in the living room in no time. Justin squeaks in surprise, but doesn’t resist as Brian uses the thong to tie Justin’s hands around the pole. He doesn’t make it too tight, but tight enough so Justin’s arms are pinned.
“You know that stealing has to be punished,” Brian whispers in his ear. His tongue darts out and Justin whimpers.
God, he’s so easy.
He yanks Justin’s pants down around his ankles, leaves his briefs on for now. They’re tight and white and Brian wouldn't admit it, but they make his dick hard. Fast. He pulls his own pants off and rubs up behind Justin, the cotton soft on his cock - just the right amount of friction.
Justin tries to arch back, and Brian slaps his ass. “Don’t move.”
He nods and Brian smiles at the fact that Justin’s eyes are squeezed shut. He presses up against him again, his whole body leaning in as his tongue swipes slowly across Justin’s neck. “Have you been a bad boy?”
“Yes,” Justin breathes.
Brian rips the briefs down, tears the fabric. “You need to be punished, don’t you?”
Justin jerks his head, an affirmation. He’s trembling and Brian thinks Justin might come at the mere thought of it. His hand strikes Justin’s ass with a loud smack. He does it again, alternating sides, making sure he won’t leave anything but red marks that will fade by tomorrow.
Justin moans and winces and finally he’s begging.
“What do you want?” Brian’s hand flashes down again.
“Fuck me. Oh my god, fuck me.” Justin’s voice is ragged.
Smack. “Clearly you need to learn some manners, young man.”
Justin needs a second to think about it before he pants, “Please fuck me. Please, please, please.”
“Well, since you said the magic word….” Brian slides a condom on and then he’s slamming into him, no lube and no need for it. It’s rough and Justin’s so tight and fuck, he has to stop for a second.
Just a second, though, and then he’s thrusting, Justin moaning yes, yes, yes, yes as Brian pounds into him. Brian covers Justin with his body, presses him harder against the cold metal, his hands moving around to grasp Justin’s outstretched arms.
After another minute, Justin’s knees start to give out. Brian holds him up, unwilling to have his cock be anywhere else for the time being. He reaches down and smacks Justin’s flesh and tells him again that he’s a bad, bad boy as he goes even deeper.
Justin shakes and gasps, his ass clenching as he comes, even though his cock hasn’t been touched. His mouth hangs open and he groans low in his throat, his body starting to sag. Brian clenches his fingers around one of Justin’s hips and speeds up his movements, coming with a quick, sharp shout.
For a few moments, they stand there, breath coming fast and furious. When Brian pulls out, Justin whimpers and starts to slide downwards. Brian reaches around and with a yank, undoes Justin’s hands. He lowers him to the floor and leaves him there to catch his breath while he gets cleaned up.
Pants back on and rumpled shirt in place once more, Brian returns to where Justin is splayed on the floor, his back against the pole, a stunned smile on his gaping lips. Brian presses a kiss to those lips as he pulls Justin to his feet. He reaches down and rubs his hand softly over the heated skin of Justin’s ass.
Brian grins, pushes his tongue into his cheek. “So, what’s for dinner?”