Gap Filler for 309
Brian and Justin’s POV's
Rated R
Wednesday, 8pm
Justin
I won’t even lie and say this is good or great or wonderful…because it’s fucking
fantastic. Since the night we became…uh, reacquainted, I’ve seen Brian every
day. Well, except for last Wednesday, but that was because I had to pull an
all-nighter to finish a project for one of my classes and the only reason it
wasn’t done was because I’d been at Brian’s every night of the week before getting
very well fucked.
It’s been amazing and really hot and comforting in a way I didn’t expect. There
aren’t enough words to describe what’s been happening with us, but all I can
really say is that it’s right. It fits. It finally feels like we’re together
for the right fucking reasons and not all the wrong ones.
Every night is new and fresh. We’ve been dancing, to dinner; some nights he
picks me up at Daphne’s and we barely make it back to the loft before we tear
each other’s clothes off. Then dinner or Woody’s or whatever is forgotten.
A couple of nights ago we didn’t even make it back to the loft. I was dying
for Brian’s dick. I’d been daydreaming about it all day during classes and then
during my dinner shift at the diner. It was seriously making me insane. When
he picked me up after work, I got in the car he smiled at me sweetly but didn’t
say anything. He threw the Corvette in gear and started to fly through the streets
of downtown Pittsburgh. The evening progressed something like this…
Monday (two days prior), 10pm
My hands are clasped in my lap like a good little boy's, but if anyone knew
about the naughty thoughts running through my mind they would die. Brian keeps
looking over at me. Probably watching the sweat break out on my upper lip and
my leg shake nervously as I will myself not to touch him. I wanted to just jerk
off and get it over with like 15 times today, but I managed to refrain. I wanted
to want him so badly it hurt. It fucking worked.
Finally, after side glancing me for a few miles, he breaks the comfortable silence.
“What’s up with you?” His tone implies he wants to know why I’m fidgeting like
a four year old.
“I’m fucking horny.” I let a sly smile grip the edges of my lips as I look him
up and down out of the corner of my eye.
“I think we can take care of that.”
“You didn’t want to do something else, did you?”
“Like what? Take a romantic moonlit stroll through the park?” His comment drips
with sarcasm, and in the past that would have sent me into a tailspin. But those
times are long gone. Instead, I just shoot him a shit-eating grin and reply
without missing a beat.
“I meant dinner or going out or whatever.”
He licks his lips as he slows down at the red light. He turns his head and looks
into my eyes in that way of his, the one that makes me hard before he even touches
me. Bastard.
“No Sunshine, fucking you into oblivion was the first thing on my to-do list
this evening.” He says it so seriously I have to laugh. A second later, the
heat in my balls starts to pulsate through my entire body and I decide I’ve
had enough.
Roughly, I grab the back of his head and pull him to me. I bite first his bottom
lip and then the top one, I hear him whimper into the kiss, but I know it feels
good. While snaking his tongue into my mouth, he reaches up and sinks his right
hand into my hair, then he tugs my head back, tearing my lips from his mouth.
My eyes are wide with shock, but when I see his smile turn evil and his eyes
darken, I know I’m in store for some serious punishment for all of that.
“Don’t ever get me this worked up when I’m driving,” he says half-jokingly.
I run my hand up the inside of his Armani-clad thigh and then cup his full balls
in my warm hand. When his jaw tenses and his eyes start to glaze over, I can
tell he’s thinking about where he can pull the car over.
Then a blaring horn startles us both back into reality. He puts the car in gear
again and starts through the green light. I never take my hand off his crotch.
A few blocks pass and neither of us say or do anything. I start to move my hand
very slowly over his dick, feeling it grow through the layers of fabric that
constrict it.
“Justin,” he finally says in a tone that warns me I’d better stop, but the sound
of his deep, lust-tempered voice only makes me need him more.
I pull down the zipper of his pants and have his pulsing dick out before he
can protest. Undoing my seatbelt, I move down to catch the object of my desire
between my waiting lips.
Wednesday, 8:15pm
So that was that. I sucked Brian’s dick vigorously until he came, hard and fast,
nearly killing us both as he tried to shift gears while his orgasm gave his
body a mind of its own. I could tell he was slightly pissed that I hadn’t let
him drive in peace, but more importantly, he thought it was hot that I couldn’t
wait the 10 minutes back to his place to suck his dick.
That pretty much gets us up to speed. I’m sitting on the front steps of
Daphne’s building (well, I guess it’s my building now too, strange concept)
waiting for him to come pick me up. I don’t presume that we have plans every
night and I’m sure eventually we won’t. But what we’re going through right now
is sort of like a honeymoon phase. We were apart for a while and we missed each
other. Well, I missed Brian like mad and I know he’d never admit it, but he
missed me too. I can tell every time he kisses me, every time he touches me,
every time he makes love to me. He pours his emotions all over me – through his
tongue and his fingertips and his lips and his dick. They fill me up and make
me remember why I fell for him in the first place.
Wednesday, 2pm
Brian
After a particularly heinous meeting with Vance, I plop down at my desk and
he’s the first thing I think about. Wonder if he’s free tonight? I could
seriously use the stress relief.
I open my email and start to write him a note, asking if he’s busy later, when
I realize that I’ve asked the kid to come over every night for two weeks. It’s
getting a little fucking ridiculous. I mean, I’ve been with other people since
we got back together and I’m sure he has too. Well, I don’t know, maybe he
hasn’t. But as always…he’s welcome to do as he pleases.
I close the email without sending it, taking a moment to lean back in my chair.
Is this good? Is this where I want this to go? Are we going to get all deep
into the shit again and serious and tense like last time? I mean, I know it’s
different this time…it fucking feels different. It feels good, actually…really
good. I think I made the right choice. I don’t know where it’s going or where
we’ll end up. I guess we’ll keep fucking and hanging out and doing our thing
until one of us doesn’t want it anymore. I know this time he’ll be honest with
me and that’s really all I need to know. Guess I should just leave it at that.
I open my email again and start another note to him. Then I decide to close it,
again. Something about typing a fucking “hey, wanna come over the fuck tonight”
email is so premeditated and pathetic it makes me sick. There has to be
something I need from the art department.
Yes, the mock ups for the latest wave of Brown Athletics ads. Ca-ching.
I stroll down the hall with venom in my eyes, making every one of my employees
nervous as I pass them. They all wonder if I’m coming for them every time I
walk down this long hallway. I love instilling unnecessary fear in them on a
daily basis. It’s fun. I think if they’re a little afraid of me it will help
them respect me. At the end of the day I’m a fucking asshole, but I’m a fucking
fair asshole and that’s why they all keep working for me. If they take care of
me, I take care of them. It’s more than most people get in this business, a lot
more.
When I round the corner into the art department my gut twinges a little. I
wonder what the fuck that's about and I realize it’s anticipation. Wondering if
he’ll be here. Wondering if he’ll agree to come over later. That he's able to
make me feel like this is totally pathetic and pitiful, but as long as nobody
knows, I’m kind of okay with it.
There he is, bent over a lightbox looking at slides with one of the assistant
art directors, Cheryl. They seem to get along. I’ve seen them go to lunch
together and laugh at inside jokes in the hall. I’m going to have to put an end
to that. All I need is little Sunshine making friends with his new coworkers
and letting it slip after one-too-many cocktails at happy hour that he’s
fucking the big boss. ‘Big’ being the operative word in that sentence.
He looks up right after I come into the room. As always his Brian-radar is well
tuned. Our eyes meet and he gives that award-winning smile that earned him his
alias.
I walk behind him, heading over to the area where the Brown Athletic mock-ups
are located. I purposefully brush his ass with my hip and cast a side glance
his way just in time to see a smile grip the corners of his lips. Who knew fucking
someone in the office could be so much fun? Of course, I’m conveniently
ignoring the fact it’s nearly gotten me sued before.
Wednesday, 2:10pm
Justin
Brian walks into the art department and brushes past me quickly, making sure to
touch me imperceptibly like he always does. As usual, he is the picture of
professionalism. Never for a second letting on that I’m anything more than a
stranger to him. Some college kid who's interning at an agency he heads. I will
myself not to smile as his hip pushes into me a little. My heart races as I
finish my conversation with Cheryl about some slides we’re looking over. She’s
trying to show me what makes a great product shot and until about five seconds
ago it was an interesting topic. Now the only thing I can think about is
whether Brian’s going to want me to come over tonight. Shit, I’m so far gone it
isn’t even funny. Well, it is, sort of.
When he walks back by he has my full attention, though I’m quick to make sure
that no one notices that. I have a handful of design publications that I have
to file. I wait until Brian looks at me and I nod at the pile of papers in my
hand, indicating that I’ll be taking them somewhere.
I start off down the hall and he follows. I go into the office-sized space
where Vanguard keeps about a hundred filing cabinets for all the paper-based
materials they archive and hold my breath, hoping that Brian has followed me.
Four
seconds later I hear the door creep open and then shut. Then I hear the button
lock punch just before I feel his hand on the small of my back. Then as his
lips find my neck, I roll my head to the side as I whisper his name.
He bites me a little, “Hush dear,” he says with mock sarcasm.
I giggle as he spins me around, making me drop the stack of documents I came to
file. We both watch them fall and smile as he pulls me into a mind-bending kiss
that lasts until we both need air.
He pulls away from me, “Busy later?”
I just shake my head and give him a coy smile in response. He squeezes my ass.
“Good, I’ll pick you up at your place when I’m done here. Around 8.”
Still breathless from our clandestine moments in a filing room where no one
knows love is in full bloom, all I can do is nod in response.
He turns, leaving the room as quickly as he entered it. Once again, no will
ever be the wiser. People move along doing their jobs, having no clue that the
intern has the big boss wrapped around his little finger.
Wednesday, 8:30pm
Brian
I was pissed off at myself after I fucking made out with him in the filing
room. I should be more careful at work. I wouldn’t give a shit if anyone knew I
was fucking him if he wasn’t working for me. But he’s our intern and I don’t
want a single person second-guessing how he got his position. I run the best
fucking agency in the city and most kids are dying for a shot at an internship
with us. Justin earned his spot and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.
Driving over to his apartment, I think about how much time we’ve been spending
together. It’s been good, really good. But I don’t want to make a habit of it.
We aren’t living together and he’s not my fucking boyfriend. I need him to
remember that. Just because we’re sleeping together again and hanging out,
we're not getting fucking married.
For some reason I dwell on that until I feel my cheeks burn with rage. I’m not
mad at him, I’m mad at myself. I guess feeling the way I do about him just
pisses me off. Tells me that all this time I’ve spent making sure I don’t feel
this way about anyone has been a waste. And that frankly makes me want to punch
a wall.
I pick up my cell and dial a number that I know by heart. When the familiar
voice on the other end asks for my account number, I rattle it off without
hesitation. When he asks about my preferences, I tell him, “the opposite of
little, blond-haired and blue-eyed.” He says no problem, asks what time I need
the package delivered and how much time I’m going to need with it. We finish
off the details of the transaction, and by the time I snap my phone shut, I can
actually breathe again.
Justin
I smile when Brian’s Corvette zooms down the street, screeching to a halt fifty
feet in front of me. Casually, I put out my cigarette and stroll over to it,
even though I want to run.
When I get in, Brian leans over and kisses me, not in the horny way he
sometimes does, just in a soft, nice, 'hello-how-are-you' sort of way. It makes
me all warm.
“Hi,” I smile when he’s done.
“Hi,” he doesn’t smile back. I can read Brian like a book and he isn’t happy.
But, since whatever it is wasn’t enough to make him cancel our plans, I just
sit back, buckle up and go along for the ride.
We drive the first few miles in silence. I’m looking out the window as if the
terrain were new, but it’s not. He’s shifting gears and brooding, over what I
have no idea, nor will I ask. Brian’s business is his own, and even though
we’re working together now– sort of – I know it isn’t my place to pry. If he
wants to tell me what’s wrong, he will. Of course, maybe it isn’t even work.
Could by anything really, his crazy family, Mikey…who knows?
I can tell I’m about to get my answer when Brian sighs and opens his mouth like
he needs to say something. Nothing comes out the first try, so I just wait.
“You can’t stay tonight,” he finally mutters as he carefully keeps his eyes
trained on the road.
I just nod, knowing he’s watching my every move in his peripheral vision. Deep
down, I’m a little stung, but just a little. I’ve been waiting for this, just
waiting for it. I knew that sooner or later, Brian would need to prove to me
that nothing had changed. He needs me to know that while he cares about me and
he’ll take care of me, I still don’t dictate who he fucks or when he fucks
them.
“Okay?” He finally adds as if he needs my permission to kick me out of his own
home. I find it a little funny, but force myself not to smile.
“Fine,” I answer him, very careful not to sound upset or sad or pissed or any
of the things I would have been when we were together the first time. And the
truth is, I feel a twinge of something, but it’s not enough to label as
anything more than a stomach pain.
We
drive the rest of the way in silence. When we get into the elevator in his
building, he stands against the back wall. He’s surprised when I move to stand
right beside him, letting our bodies touch lightly. He finally smiles at me for
the first time tonight.
After I’ve cleaned the dinner dishes and Brian's showered, we meet in the
bedroom. This series of events is quickly becoming a ritual with us. I bring
the new “Rage” to bed with me and hand it to him without saying a word. He
drinks in the image of Rage and JT on the cover and then looks at me with
expectant eyes. He raises an eyebrow before he glances back at the comic,
communicating everything with a simple look.
“How much time do I have?” I smirk.
He looks over his shoulder at the clock beside the bed as I start to move down
his body, stroking over every inch of skin as I go. He looks back to me and
sighs, “Hour and a half.”
I nod and smile. I can do a lot with an hour and half and he knows it. Hell, I
can do a lot with ten minutes. I can work magic in ninety. I settle between his
legs and silently vow to give him the longest, most erotic blowjob of his life.
Just like JT with Rage, I have a feeling I might melt his icy exterior after
all.
End
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