burnitbackwards
and I are playing a little game...it has to do with one Mr. Brian Kinney and
his precious little ass.
Sting has this song I adore called "Seven Days"...well you'll get the rest...
Oh and please be warned the follow has absolutely no literary merit nor any
redeeming qualities...it is porn for porn's sake.
***************
Monday
“You’re in a shitty mood,” Brian gives Justin a smirk. Justin’s been irritable
since he got off the plane.
Justin shakes his head, rolls onto the balls of his feet and presses his lips
to Brian’s. He sighs, “I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m just really horny.”
Brian laughs and kisses Justin’s forehead, “That’s a problem I can fix.”
Justin gives a scowl. Brian raises his eyebrows, silently asking what the fuck
Justin’s problem is. Justin shuffles his feet, “I feel like fucking you and
you probably won’t be agreeable since you haven’t fucked me in like a month.”
Brian laughs again and reaches over to grab Justin’s luggage from the belt.
Justin turns and half smiles, it’s nice to have someone know which bag is yours.
Brian likes baggage claim. Baggage claim means Justin’s staying for more than
a day or two. It means he had to pack enough art supplies to last him through
days and days of inspiration, inspiration being the incredible reunion sex they’ve
grown accustom to.
Today baggage claim means seven days and it’s been more than a year since they’ve
spent a solid week together. Brian tried to act unaffected when Justin called
to tell him last month, but really they both knew how wide Brian was smiling
on the other end of that phone call.
Brian bought a bigger car to lug ‘Gus’ shit around in’ which they find easily
in the parking lot when Brian presses some button that makes the car talk to
them. Justin rolls his eyes and lets Brian put his bags in the back.
When they’re in the car Brian leans over and pulls Justin toward him roughly.
They made out a little waiting for the belt to start spitting out bags in the
airport, but not like this.
When Brian releases him Justin’s breathless and keeps his eyes closed for a
long moment. He hovers, still leaning over the center console into Brian’s space,
smiling ridiculously.
Brian starts the car and huffs, “If you want to fuck me you just have to ask.”
Justin opens his eyes, “So, can I fuck you?”
Brian laughs and releases the parking brake, “Yes, dear.”
Justin yanks the parking break back up, getting a glare from Brian. But when
he pushes himself practically into Brian’s lap and feeds his tongue into his
mouth and starts working his hands into Brian’s shirt, Brian forgets the misstep.
In sixty seconds they’re both panting and hard. Justin’s rustling with clothes
and trying to keep his ass from sounding the horn on the steering wheel, which
is has twice already.
Brian finally pushes him off and growls, “Backseat.”
They both climb through the opening between the front seats, fumbling with clothes
and falling all over the place and laughing the entire time.
“Sort of like high school,” Justin sucks on Brian’s neck and pushes his shirt
the rest of the way off.
“I didn’t fuck in hundred thousand dollar cars in high school,” Brian pulls
at Justin’s belt.
“Neither did I,” Justin’s voice is low and husky.
They both pause, a knowing look passing between them. They’re thinking about
where Justin was fucking in high school. He was fucking in the loft, in the
Jeep, in the backroom at Babylon, hell anywhere they could get a few feet to
maneuver in. They both smile at the distant memory.
Brian breaks the trance, “You should have kept your uniform.”
“You fucking loved that thing,” Justin pushes his own pants all the way off,
struggling when they get caught on his Converse.
“I loved fucking you in it, such a turn on,” Brian pushes Justin back on the
leather seat and starts to lick a trail down his naked body. He gives himself
a pat on the back for adding the extra dark window tint option.
“Well I can act 17 again if that helps,” Justin laughs and then gasps as Brian’s
chin hits his cock. He reaches over his head for the door handle, anything to
hold on to.
“Does it always hurt? What exactly is rimming? Wait, we have to use a condom.”
Brian spanks Justin for good measure and their laughter fills the car.
**
“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stop, I’m gonna come.”
Brian’s relentless, he sucks Justin deep into his throat, fighting the urge
to gag when Justin’s cock taps the back of his throat and ignoring the light
headed feeling he’s getting due to lack of oxygen. He just wants Justin to come.
Needs to taste it.
Justin tugs at Brian’s hair, “Seriously, stop.” Brian pays no attention. In
fact, the warm pain blooming in his skull from where Justin’s fingers pull at
his hair only solidifies his resolve.
When he sticks a lone finger up Justin’s ass and presses it to his prostate,
it’s all over.
“Christ,” Justin shouts as his body goes rigid and he comes in Brian’s mouth.
“Brian,” Justin’s giggly like he always is when he comes the first time. “I
told you to stop.” He sighs and rubs some come on Brian’s chin into his skin.
He brings his own damp fingers to his lips and tastes himself. He knows that
makes Brian crazy.
Brian growls at him and starts to lick and bite his stomach. He puts a hand
between Justin’s legs and rolls his balls in his palm. He doesn’t have the patience
to wait for Justin to be ready again.
“Brian, fuck,” he raises his hips off the seat, his skin peels from the leather
and makes a noise that makes Brian moan.
Brian sits up to get the rest of his clothes off. Justin lays still but starts
to stroke himself.
“That’s good,” Brian whispers and it makes Justin whimper a little bit.
Brian searches for a condom in his discarded jeans but can’t find one. He mumbles
something and then Justin’s beside him, picking up his own pants and pulling
one from the back pocket.
Brian narrows his eyes, “Fucker.” Justin rarely carries condoms; it’s not his
job. He clearly had a plan when he got on the plane this afternoon.
“Lay down,” Justin clumsily tries to move behind Brian while pushing him down
on the seat. “I wanna rim you first,” Justin loves the rush of blood that fills
his cheeks when he says things like that. Even if he’s said a lot worse and
he’s been doing it for years.
Brian puts up an obligatory struggle that lasts all of six seconds.
“You know you want it, roll over,” Justin pushes on Brian’s shoulders and gets
the other man face down on the leather seat. Justin laughs at how hard it’s
going to actually be to rim him back here.
He sinks down to the floorboard behind the passenger seat and watches as Brian
moves around and tries to get comfortable. He runs his hands up the backs of
Brian’s legs. He smiles when Brian’s muscles start to twitch and respond to
his touch.
“Justin,” Brian warns. He’s been hard for too long.
Justin starts by tracing his tongue lightly over Brian’s thighs. He moves upwards
quickly, his mouth watering at the thought of Brian’s taste.
It’s only been a month since they’ve been together but in this moment it feels
like a lifetime. When this first started Justin wondered how long they’d be
this desperate when they first saw each other after a few weeks apart. Here
they are, two years later, and they can’t get out of the airport parking lot.
Though usually they do make it the fifteen minutes to the loft.
“Come on,” Brian raises his hips; it’s all he’ll say. It’s his version of begging.
Justin obliges, dying to get his tongue in there anyway. He licks and laps and
finally goes deeper, getting a good shudder and moan from Brian.
Justin always feels so satisfied when he gets to fuck Brian, or rim him, or
finger him, or stick anything at all in Brian’s ass. It’s not just the power
or the control, though he loves that part, but it’s the way Brian responds.
It’s how he knows he’s tapping some long buried and rarely admitted desire inside
of Brian to be dominated.
“Jesus, fuck me,” Brian finally grits out when he’s seconds from coming all
over the seat in his own car, thank God it’s leather.
Justin gets on his knees on the seat behind Brian, it’s a tight fit (in more
ways than one) but he manages to get himself positioned well enough to press
his dick to Brian’s hole.
“Thank God you bought an SUV,” he hisses as he sinks in.
“Thank God,” and it’s the last coherent thing Brian says.
End
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