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FIC: Another Night at the Loft (Brian/Justin; NC-17)
Slipping this in as a last minute entry to Bring Back the Porn =D I wasn't going to write one, but it feels like ages since I last posted fic, so I cooked this ficlet up.

Title: Another Night at the Loft
Author: Etharei
Timeline: gapfiller 105
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Summary: “A fuck is a fuck, right?” Justin straightens up to a sitting position. “So fuck me instead.”
Author's note: Written for the Bring Back the Porn challenge of 1 September 2007.


The couch is, by all accounts, quite a comfortable couch. It’s significantly more comfortable than, say, the one he has at home, and really Justin should be grateful that he has somewhere to stay that night. But his back, very much used to a proper bed with a springy mattress and pillows, refuses to let him sleep. He shifts for what must be the two hundredth time in ten minutes, staring at the ceiling, trying to find a position where the contours of the couch feel less, well, couch-like.

Without warning, the blanket covering him disappears in a swish of cloth. He blinks, startled by the loss of warmth; he’s wearing only his briefs. Brian towers at the opposite end of the couch, a black shadow outlined by blue lights from the bedroom.

“Do you have fucking ants all over you, or something?” Brian grumbles in irritation. It’s dark, but Justin can feel the weight of his gaze, and it’s not directed at is face.

“Just making myself comfortable,” Justin says, in what he hopes is a teasing voice. Props himself up with his elbows, parts his legs just a little.

“You lost me a trick tonight,” Brian continues, but the heat in his voice has changed.

“A fuck is a fuck, right?” Justin straightens up to a sitting position. “So fuck me instead.”

Brian doesn’t do anything for a moment, as if he still needs to think about it. Then he nods. “Come on.”

For a second after he hits the mattress, Justin can feel his back rejoicing in happy relief. But that’s very quickly replaced by bursts of bright pleasure as Brian’s lips close around one nipple, Brian’s hand slips between his knees and run up his inner right thigh, Brian’s hard cock rubs against the nest of his pubes. Justin moans from the multiple assault; his own hands are scrambling all over Brian’s skin, enjoying the flex and curve of smooth muscles. He thinks, I’ve got to get better at this, though he can’t imagine ever not being overwhelmed by the need and the pleasure.

Luckily Brian seems quite capable of enjoying Justin without much work on Justin’s part. Practically devours the skin on Justin’s neck, and then moves to Justin’s mouth, where the first thrust of tongue coincides with Brian’s finger pushing into Justin’s hole. Justin arches at the burn and stretch, but he’s getting used to it now, can’t imagine (penetrative) sex without it; he understands what Brian had meant the first time. So much so that he pushes himself down on Brian’s second finger, begs Brian to fuck him a little before he’s fully ready.

Brian enters him fast. His loud gasp has more pain in it than he’s gotten used to, but that’s what he wants, and allays any worries Brian might have by digging his heels into Brian’s back. Brian groans, and starts fucking him hard. Their lips meet again, the rocking of their bodies making kisses clumsy and wet, spit spreading all over the skin around their mouths. Justin feels the wetness of precome when he strokes the head of his cock, but unlike the first night Brian slaps his hand away.

Even without jerking himself off, before long Justin feels the tell-tale tension coiling in his lower body. Brian somehow senses it, too, and suddenly pushes Justin’s legs up onto his shoulders, changing the angle of penetration, pushing in deeper, stroking Justin’s prostate with every thrust. A high, breathless sound comes from Justin’s throat. The tension breaks, sending the sweet wave of heat coursing through Justin’s body, his come spattering white all over their bellies.

A couple more thrusts, and Brian follows him, orgasm stretching his body like a cord. Justin feels a pulse of warmth as the condom inside him is filled. Then Brian collapses on top of him, both of them breathing hard.

That, he assumes, is that. But a few minutes later, with the condom tied off and disposed and both of them staring up at the ceiling, Brian suddenly says, “My boss wants me to get us a contract with this big rich client from out of town. But the guy is an asshole looking to bleed us of good ideas so he can take them to a bigger agency.”

Justin thinks he can hear his heart beating in the dark. “My mom forced me to go with her to the school counselor this morning. She asked how I could know who I was and what I wanted, when I’m just seventeen. I told her that I liked dick.” He adds, as if it’s an afterthought, “And that I’m good at sucking it.”

Brian chuckles. “Suddenly it’s all so clear. Why you’re here instead of at home.”

"I spoke only the truth." Justin grins. "Especially the part about sucking dick.”

“Can’t remember.” A hand has found its way to Justin’s hair. “The guy I had last night was pretty good.”

Justin rolls his eyes. “Why don’t I just prove it to you?”

For an answer, Brian’s hand on his head exerts a gentle downward pressure. Justin eagerly slides down Brian’s body, gets an inner trill when Brian gasps loudly as Justin takes him into his mouth. He goes slow, playing Brian with tongue and throat. He takes his time, because even though Brian may not have realized it yet, he has changed things, and Justin suddenly feels like he’s got all the time in the world.