Sue Walsh

“Justin, don’t look at the camera. Look at me.”

Justin’s gaze broke away from the camera lens and he looked up at Brian and smiled.

“Sorry. It’s just . . . I wasn’t expecting all this. The lights . . . and two cameras.”

“Well, we want a quality production, don’t we? So I borrowed some equipment from work.”

“Yeah. But why two cameras? Can’t we just make a copy so both you and I have one?”

“We have editing equipment at work. I’ll edit the two different angles together. It’ll make for a much better end product. Just because this is a home video doesn’t mean it has to be an amateur production. And don’t worry, I’ll do the editing personally. No one else will see it.” Brian assured Justin.

“Okay.” Justin agreed, ignoring the cameras and concentrating solely on Brian. Brian’s face descended and his mouth covered Justin’s in a deep, passionate kiss. Justin surged up against Brian with that first, intimate contact and wrapped his arms around Brian’s shoulders as Brian’s arms worked beneath Justin and tightened their hold.

Brian’s mouth traveled lower, ravenously licking and kissing the line of Justin’s jaw and then his neck. Justin writhed beneath him.

“Don’t move too much or we’ll be out of the camera’s range.” Brian warned as he lowered himself down Justin’s torso and began sucking on one of his nipples. The nipple play seemed endless, with Justin’s hands tangling in Brian’s hair, pressing Brian’s head to his chest, demanding more contact.

Brian lowered himself further still and moved, deliberately, to the side so as not to block the camera’s view. Though he gave no outward indication, Brian apparently was well aware of the cameras’ locations and where he needed to be to get the best shot. Justin, it appeared, had forgotten about the cameras’ presence all together.

“So beautifully hard. Such a gorgeous cock. I’m going to suck you until you come in my mouth. Would you like that, Justin?” Before Justin could even answer, Brian’s mouth engulfed the rigid hard-on to the hilt and

Paused.

Michael stared unbelievingly at the television screen. The frozen frame of Brian Kinney’s face, his mouth full of Justin’s cock and his eyes looking directly into the camera, appeared to be staring right at Michael as he sat on the edge of Justin’s (no, it’s still his) bed with the remote control poised in his hand.

“Christ.” Michael hissed audibly in the quiet room.

****

Michael had stopped by to see his mom and bring his Uncle Vic his supply of meds. He’d been surprised to find the door locked. Digging out his key, he’d open the door and shouted out, but the house was empty. Silent. They must have all gone out. He’d looked on the kitchen table for a note explaining their whereabouts before realizing how foolish that was. He didn’t live there. Why would they leave him a note? Yet, part of him felt that they should have.

He’d poured himself a glass of milk and pulled the cookie jar down from the top of the fridge. He’d struck pay dirt. Salerno butter cookies and those almond things shaped like windmills. He loved both of those. He’d shoved a windmill partially in his mouth and stacked four butter cookies together, spearing his index finger through the lined-up holes in their middles. He then returned the jar to its place on top of the fridge.

The house felt strange with no one in it, without his mom talking incessantly, loudly. He shrugged it off and finished his windmill, following it up with a swig of milk.

Maybe the Boy Wonder is home and just didn’t hear me, he thought as he headed toward the stairs, milk and cookies still in hand.

“Justin, you up there?” Michael yelled loudly.

He proceeded up the stairs when there was no response, deeming this as good a time as any to perform a spot check on his boyhood room and his belongings. Anyway, one of his oldest and most cherished robots had stopped working and he was pretty sure the instruction manual, printed in seven different languages – none of them English, was still in the chest at the foot of the bed.

He’d been surprised to find a brand new VCR connected to the old television his mom had put in there when she’d got a new one for the kitchen. How did the Boy Wonder afford this, Michael thought to himself. Even if he doesn’t have to give all his pay to Brian, and Michael was pretty sure he didn’t, he still shouldn’t have enough to buy a VCR so quickly, especially one this nice. He ate the final cookie from around his index finger as he checked out the unit.

He spied an empty, clear plastic video box sitting atop the TV. Rental? Not from one of the major chains. He doubted whether Justin would be able to rent an adult video from any of the local places. Maybe he’d snuck into Vic’s collection.

Michael turned on the TV and picked up the VCR’s remote. He hit play.

There had been no titles or credits. The only thing filling the screen was a large bed with dark blue coverings. No one was on the bed. There was nothing happening at all for several moments. Michael was about to turn it off or fast forward to see if it changed at all when he heard laughter off camera.

The laughter grew louder and a protesting voice insisted, “Put me down.” Two bodies, naked entered the frame. One was carrying the other over his shoulder. The man being carried was thrown onto the surface of the bed where he landed with a bounce. Justin.

The other man pounced on top of him playfully. Brian.

Brian and Justin. Naked. On a bed. With a camera. Michael sat down hard on the edge of the bed.

On screen, Brian looked down at Justin and said, “You said you wanted to. It was your idea.”

“I know.” Justin replied, sounding a bit nervous. “But I thought it would just be a camera, like my dad pulls out for graduations and stuff.” Justin turned and looked directly into the camera, staring like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Justin, don’t look at the camera. Look at me.” Brian had said.

****

The video still on pause, Michael stood and walked to the window. He peered out for a moment, looking in both directions on the street outside. He then moved over the door and shut it, noting that the lock which had never worked when he lived there still didn’t. He moved back toward the bed and sat down. Pointing the remote at the VCR, Michael hit the play button.

Movement on the screen resumed as if never having been interrupted. Brian’s head moved up and down as he sucked Justin’s cock with long, fluid strokes. Justin, eyes closed, bucked his hips slightly to meet Brian’s motions and groaned.

The blow job seemed to last forever, but it was hardly monotonous. Brian mouth and tongue were all over Justin’s cock. He seemed to develop a rhythm and then changed directions completely, drawing Justin’s balls up so they could be licked or nibbling at the tight skin along the shaft. Michael expected Justin to begin screaming in frustration at any moment. Instead, he saw Justin participating in this teasing, pulling away slightly when Brian brought him close to orgasm, spreading his legs wide to invite different explorations. They seemed caught up in a game where only they knew the rules.

Brian pulled away from Justin and leaned over him. Both of them smiled at each other. The blow job was over. Justin hadn’t come. And Michael wasn’t at all sure who had won the game. They both seemed triumphant.

Brian stroked Justin’s cheek tenderly and they resumed kissing with Brian devouring Justin’s mouth. Brian then knelt up, his head no longer visible in the shot, and Michael watched as a condom package was ripped open. Brian brought the condom to the head of his straining erection and

Paused.

Michael took a deep though shaky breath and stared at the TV screen. There in vivid technicolor and surprisingly sharp contrast for such an old television, was Brian. Brian’s hard, lean torso. Brian’s well defined thighs. Brian’s surprisingly long, rigidly hard, totally erect cock.

Michael groaned. Justin’s little sketch hadn’t been an exaggeration. In fact, it really hadn’t . . . Michael heard a noise and quickly pressed the stop button. He went to the bedroom door and open it slightly, but heard nothing more. He walked to the window and peered out from behind the curtains. The people across the street had just arrived home. No doubt that was the noise he had heard.

Michael breathed again, realizing he hadn’t done so since he risen from the bed. His heart was pounding loudly in his rib cage. He should just rewind the video and leave. He had no business watching it. He turned back toward the TV intending to do just that. He pressed the play button instead.

Brian slipped the condom smoothly onto his cock and gently pulled at the tip. His hand reached down and retrieved a tube of lubricant from somewhere on the bed. The hand flipped the tube open and squeezed some lube onto the fingers of the other hand which, in turn, disappeared between Justin’s thighs.

Justin arched up and into the obvious but unseen penetration, gasping as he did so.

“You are so fucking tight.” Brian’s disembodied voice said. “And so hot.” Well, Michael thought, at least they included the cheesy dialog. Justin grunted and thrust himself toward Brian. “Yeah, okay. Settle down. Just a sec.”

The hand finally withdrew from between Justin’s thighs, which were quickly pushed back toward Justin’s ears as Brian’s face re-entered the frame. Almost simultaneously, Brian thrust forward, Justin arched up and Michael hit the pause button.

“Jesus.” Michael whispered and brought a hand up to his brow. He felt his own anus tighten and release in some sort of empathic connection. His erection, which he’d been aware of for sometime but had chosen to ignore, twitched inside his jeans. He breathed shallowly until his equilibrium returned and pressed play again.

Brian surged forward and captured Justin’s mouth in another searing kiss. Brian and Justin rocked together almost violently, Brian pulling out of Justin almost entirely before slamming back into him. The camera caught it all. Their lips never parted and their kissing became more frenzied. Their hands explored everywhere they could reach. Michael actually felt a twinge of sympathy for Justin. How could he take that pace, that ferocity, that cock for such a long period of time? Michael’s hand attempted to adjust himself within the tightening confines of his jeans. It remained there, absently.

Finally, Brian’s and Justin’s mouths parted and they stared at each other intently as the fucking continued. Brian’s mouth was open slightly as he breathed heavily, but it looked as if he might be smiling as well. Suddenly, the end came, for both of them and they clutched each other tightly, riding out the waves of their orgasms.

“We’re beautiful together, aren’t we?”

Michael jumped up and spun around to see Justin standing in the doorway.

The remote dropped from his hand and fell to the floor. Michael was pretty sure he’d come as well, but he didn’t want to look down and check for a wet spot. He wished he could call upon some super power that would make him disappear. In lieu of that, spontaneous combustion would do just fine.

“It’s just sex . . . and I’ve seen better porn.” Michael said defensively.

“Yeah.” Justin said with an indulgent smirk. Justin moved forward and picked up the remote. He hit pause, the image of hin and Brian kissing tenderly in the afterglow of their orgasms freezing on the screen. “I know it’s your room, Michael. You never let me forget it. But it’s my VCR. Brian gave it to me. My VCR. My Tape. My Brian.”

“You better never let him hear you say that.” Michael scoffed.

Justin pressed the play and fast forward buttons on the remote. The tape whirred within the machine and images flashed quickly on the screen. Brian and Justin cuddling. Brian eating Justin’s ass. Justin sucking Brian’s cock.. Brian fucking Justin. The two of them snuggling again.

“How long is this tape?” Michael asked incredulously.

“About five and half hours. We haven’t edited it yet.” Justin said matter-of-factly.

“Christ.”

Justin watched the screen for a moment, then pressed play. On the screen Justin and Brian were casually entwined. Justin was laying across Brian’s chest, looking up at him. Brian’s arm was draped across Justin’s back which he lazily caressed..

“Our movie needs a title. What should we call it?” Justin’s voice said from the television.

“How about Dawson’s Crack?” Brian teased. Michael laughed out loud.

“That’s crass.” Justin’s video image answered.

“You’re right. It would also be a copyright infringement. All Worlds Video already released a film by that name. I saw it on Michael’s shelf.” Brian’s image said with a chuckle. Michael’s face colored. That wasn’t even his tape. It belonged to Emmett.

“Why don’t we just call it My Brian.” Justin said, brushing Brian’s hair out of his eyes.

“Since I’m going to have a copy of it, too, don’t you think that would be a bit narcissistic, even for me?” The two men on the screen laughed.

“Well, I’m going to call my copy My Brian. You can call yours My Justin or whatever you want.”

“Fine. Dual titles. But if I ever get hit by a truck, you have to sneak in here and steal it away before anyone finds it.” Brian said. “If Ted gets his hands on it, he’ll mass produce it and market it all over the world.”

Michael couldn’t take anymore of this casual, intimate conversation. Without a word, he turned and left his boyhood room. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his mom saw him from the kitchen.

“Michael! I didn’t know you were here,” his mother exclaimed.

“I brought Uncle Vic’s meds. I was . . . uh . . . I was in the bathroom.”

“All this time? Well, I hope you found the spray.” Debbie chuckled.

“Mom.” Michael complained.

“Hey, you don’t look so hot.” Debbie said, concerned. “I’ve got Pepto Bismal.”

“I’m fine, mom. I gotta go.”

“Well, I’m sure David can cure whatever is ailing you.” Debbie said as she kissed Michael’s cheek.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he can.”

END