Title: Intrinsic Motivation
Author:![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
testdog65 aka Ellen
Timeline: Season 1
Warnings: NC-17
A/N: Thanks toxie_xie_xie for the beta!
Brian stumbles through the loft door, haphazardly sliding it shut behind him before navigating a jagged line across the empty space and up the steps. He'd left the blue lights on earlier when he headed out for Babylon, and now they radiate a cold aura over the dark, rumpled sheets. He thinks about taking off his clothes, stretching out across the entire length of the mattress, the cool softness gliding against his naked skin. He fumbles unsuccessfully with the buttons of his shirt, but he's already given up the task as he sinks to his knees and sprawls into the twist of covers, arms spread wide, legs chaotically splayed at an odd, drunken angle.
He turns his face to the nearest pillow and breathes in, lets his arms come around from underneath and feels his dick, which should be totally worn out after the night he's had, stir at the lemon-apple scent that Brian refuses to acknowledge as familiar. He thinks about jerking off, but knows he's tapped out, or at least as close as he ever gets. Then his mind wanders to pale skin, blond hair and the firm curve of muscle under his palm and under his body.
He wills himself to lie still, empty his mind and sleep, which is why he's understandably confused when, minutes later, he's sliding the loft door shut and heading for the elevator.
*****
If nothing else, Brian has successfully managed to clear his head as he navigates the nearly deserted streets through familiar turns and darkened neighborhoods. He's decidedly not thinking about warm skin, sleepy kisses or fruity shampoo as he finally manages to park the Jeep at an angle that will make him cringe in the morning.
Moments later he's lifting a flowerpot jammed with garishly over-colored plastic blooms. The key's still there and Brian is sure that the only reason Deb's never been robbed is because anyone who breaks in immediately turns tail and runs as soon as they lay eyes on all that the house has to offer. Brian snickers a bit at the idea of burglars contemplating how much a collection of porcelain clowns and ceramic cats will fetch on the black market.
The thought preoccupies him enough that he's almost at the stairs before he catches sight of Vic sitting at the kitchen table, mug in hand and expression about to convey something that Brian's sure he doesn't want to see. In the end, he answers Vic's amused nod of acknowledgement with one of his own before finally making his way to the second floor.
The room is brighter than Brian expects as the diffused glow of an almost full moon cascades through the partially open curtains. Justin's asleep, and the only part of him that's visible is a shock of blond hair at one end and a foot at the other. Everything else is effectively buried in a cocoon of covers. Brian watches the slight rise and fall of the bundle as he strips off his clothes and attempts to find a way inside the warm, disordered mess.
It's not long before he gives up the struggle, instead grasping an edge of the blanket and pulling. Justin mutters what might be a protest, but Brian ignores him as he pushes and rearranges limbs and hips and shoulders in an effort to make room for himself in the narrow bed. The sheets are scratchy, the mattress is lumpy and there's only one pillow, but those thoughts vanish almost before they form as Brian finds himself with an armful of sleepy, warm teenager.
"Time is it?" It's a rough mumble against Brian's chest, and he doesn't bother to answer mostly because he doesn't know. Then he feels Justin's hand fumble at his hip, rolling him closer. They're cock to cock, and Brian huffs a laugh into Justin's hair as he feels the hard press of eagerness against him. And then he inhales again and catches that familiar scent.
Justin's drowsy moan and his slight wriggling recapture Brian's attention, and he pushes Justin onto his back, sliding over him and pressing the full weight of his body against every inch of exposed skin. He thinks about staying like this, wondering in some truly fucked up way if he makes a better cocoon than the crappy comforter that lies bunched at the bottom of the bed. But this time he's pulled from his thoughts by the arch of Justin's hips. He's still too sleepy to start a conversation, but he gets the message across anyway, and Brian starts kissing and licking his way down Justin's body, lingering at certain key places to nip or suck, tasting salt and boy sweat and desire.
Brian takes one last lick of the skin in the crease of Justin's thigh before moving his face squarely over Justin's crotch. He pauses there and lets the warmth of his breath ghost out in a cloud of anticipation. He has to use his hands to keep Justin from squirming as he teases his lips against the taut skin of Justin's cock.
And then he doesn't want to wait any more as he licks a long, wet path from base to length to ridge to leaking slit. He stays there for a minute, painting swirls across the head as the salty flavor coats his tongue.
Justin's breathing harder now and trying not to be too loud, but he's failing miserably. And in the same moment that Brian stops playing and swallows Justin deep, he presses the palm of his hand against Justin's mouth, muffling the moan that, under normal circumstances, would have woken the occupants of this house as well as the neighbors on either side.
Brian tightens his lips around the base of Justin's cock and sucks hard while he uses the firm flatness of his tongue to up the pressure. And then he's pulling back until just the head rests inside his mouth, where he sucks again, several slow, soft pulses that force another confined moan from behind his hand.
He begins to move in a lazy rhythm, working with the sleepy haze that surrounds Justin, letting his hips rock gently between mouth and mattress. Brian presses his tongue against the head of Justin's cock each time he pulls up and swirls it slightly before he descends again. It's driving Justin crazy, and Brian knows that if he was more awake, and Brian's hand wasn't keeping him quiet, that he'd be uttering a litany of encouragement; "More. Again. Yeah, just like that," and a few things that would be undecipherable but still fully understood.
Brian moves his free hand to Justin's balls, testing their weight and then tugging slightly. Justin's suppressed groan makes him do it again before extending one finger and wetting it in the slickness that he's created at the base of Justin's cock.
Even in his half-awake state, Justin knows what's coming and he lifts up a little to give Brian easier access. Brian thinks about teasing him, drawing it out and making Justin wait. But the tightness in Justin's balls and the rigid feel of his dick are enough to signal that it won't be long now. So he pushes his wet finger against Justin's hole, feeling the momentary tensing before Justin, operating purely on instinct at this point, relaxes and lets him in.
Brian's not slow about it, forcing his finger in deeply on the first push as he sucks hard and swallows around Justin. He adds a quiet but steady hum and continues to suck as he pulls back up and presses his finger against Justin's prostate at the same time. He feels a gasp against his palm as Justin's hips arch and he suddenly stops rocking against Brian's movements.
Brian taps his finger once, twice, and again inside of Justin as he pushes his tongue into Justin's slit before sucking down a final time, taking him as deep as he's ever gone while upping the pressure of his mouth and lips. And that's all it takes as he feels the familiar swell and pulse of Justin's orgasm as it flows out of him and into Brian in waves of warm, thick release. He barely notices the sting of Justin's teeth as they bite into his palm.
Brian continues to hold Justin in his mouth as he softens and his breathing slows. He gives a final lick and then moves up the bed. Justin wears a sleepy smile, with closed eyes and parted lips. Brian kisses him then, leans in and lets his tongue play before licking inside and feeling Justin's tongue slide lazily against his own.
When he pulls back, Justin's eyes are open and he has a questioning look on his face. Brian registers a push against his shoulder, but shakes his head slightly before repositioning a sleepy Justin, back to his front. It's the only way they'll both fit in the narrow bed without lying on top of each other. Besides, Justin's almost asleep again and Brian plans on slipping away just as soon as his breathing deepens and the heavy weight of post-orgasmic peace finally takes over.
*****
Brian wakes to bright morning sunlight, surrounded by sweaty skin and a tangle of sheets. Justin's half on top of him and he struggles to remember why he's here and just when it changed from night to day. But he shuts down the attempt at recollection and instead slips out from under Justin and completely out of bed. He barely registers the fact that, despite only a few hours of sleep, he feels more rested than he has in days.
He's dressed and turning towards the door when he catches sight of the letter strewn on top of a collection of random papers that litter the surface of Justin's borrowed desk. Brian frowns slightly at the words in front of him before flipping over the page to see the drawing on the back. He's distracted by a muffled sigh from the bed, and he absently folds the paper a few times before slipping it into his pocket and quietly exiting the room and then the house.
Author:
testdog65 aka EllenTimeline: Season 1
Warnings: NC-17
A/N: Thanks to
xie_xie_xie for the beta! Brian stumbles through the loft door, haphazardly sliding it shut behind him before navigating a jagged line across the empty space and up the steps. He'd left the blue lights on earlier when he headed out for Babylon, and now they radiate a cold aura over the dark, rumpled sheets. He thinks about taking off his clothes, stretching out across the entire length of the mattress, the cool softness gliding against his naked skin. He fumbles unsuccessfully with the buttons of his shirt, but he's already given up the task as he sinks to his knees and sprawls into the twist of covers, arms spread wide, legs chaotically splayed at an odd, drunken angle.
He turns his face to the nearest pillow and breathes in, lets his arms come around from underneath and feels his dick, which should be totally worn out after the night he's had, stir at the lemon-apple scent that Brian refuses to acknowledge as familiar. He thinks about jerking off, but knows he's tapped out, or at least as close as he ever gets. Then his mind wanders to pale skin, blond hair and the firm curve of muscle under his palm and under his body.
He wills himself to lie still, empty his mind and sleep, which is why he's understandably confused when, minutes later, he's sliding the loft door shut and heading for the elevator.
*****
If nothing else, Brian has successfully managed to clear his head as he navigates the nearly deserted streets through familiar turns and darkened neighborhoods. He's decidedly not thinking about warm skin, sleepy kisses or fruity shampoo as he finally manages to park the Jeep at an angle that will make him cringe in the morning.
Moments later he's lifting a flowerpot jammed with garishly over-colored plastic blooms. The key's still there and Brian is sure that the only reason Deb's never been robbed is because anyone who breaks in immediately turns tail and runs as soon as they lay eyes on all that the house has to offer. Brian snickers a bit at the idea of burglars contemplating how much a collection of porcelain clowns and ceramic cats will fetch on the black market.
The thought preoccupies him enough that he's almost at the stairs before he catches sight of Vic sitting at the kitchen table, mug in hand and expression about to convey something that Brian's sure he doesn't want to see. In the end, he answers Vic's amused nod of acknowledgement with one of his own before finally making his way to the second floor.
The room is brighter than Brian expects as the diffused glow of an almost full moon cascades through the partially open curtains. Justin's asleep, and the only part of him that's visible is a shock of blond hair at one end and a foot at the other. Everything else is effectively buried in a cocoon of covers. Brian watches the slight rise and fall of the bundle as he strips off his clothes and attempts to find a way inside the warm, disordered mess.
It's not long before he gives up the struggle, instead grasping an edge of the blanket and pulling. Justin mutters what might be a protest, but Brian ignores him as he pushes and rearranges limbs and hips and shoulders in an effort to make room for himself in the narrow bed. The sheets are scratchy, the mattress is lumpy and there's only one pillow, but those thoughts vanish almost before they form as Brian finds himself with an armful of sleepy, warm teenager.
"Time is it?" It's a rough mumble against Brian's chest, and he doesn't bother to answer mostly because he doesn't know. Then he feels Justin's hand fumble at his hip, rolling him closer. They're cock to cock, and Brian huffs a laugh into Justin's hair as he feels the hard press of eagerness against him. And then he inhales again and catches that familiar scent.
Justin's drowsy moan and his slight wriggling recapture Brian's attention, and he pushes Justin onto his back, sliding over him and pressing the full weight of his body against every inch of exposed skin. He thinks about staying like this, wondering in some truly fucked up way if he makes a better cocoon than the crappy comforter that lies bunched at the bottom of the bed. But this time he's pulled from his thoughts by the arch of Justin's hips. He's still too sleepy to start a conversation, but he gets the message across anyway, and Brian starts kissing and licking his way down Justin's body, lingering at certain key places to nip or suck, tasting salt and boy sweat and desire.
Brian takes one last lick of the skin in the crease of Justin's thigh before moving his face squarely over Justin's crotch. He pauses there and lets the warmth of his breath ghost out in a cloud of anticipation. He has to use his hands to keep Justin from squirming as he teases his lips against the taut skin of Justin's cock.
And then he doesn't want to wait any more as he licks a long, wet path from base to length to ridge to leaking slit. He stays there for a minute, painting swirls across the head as the salty flavor coats his tongue.
Justin's breathing harder now and trying not to be too loud, but he's failing miserably. And in the same moment that Brian stops playing and swallows Justin deep, he presses the palm of his hand against Justin's mouth, muffling the moan that, under normal circumstances, would have woken the occupants of this house as well as the neighbors on either side.
Brian tightens his lips around the base of Justin's cock and sucks hard while he uses the firm flatness of his tongue to up the pressure. And then he's pulling back until just the head rests inside his mouth, where he sucks again, several slow, soft pulses that force another confined moan from behind his hand.
He begins to move in a lazy rhythm, working with the sleepy haze that surrounds Justin, letting his hips rock gently between mouth and mattress. Brian presses his tongue against the head of Justin's cock each time he pulls up and swirls it slightly before he descends again. It's driving Justin crazy, and Brian knows that if he was more awake, and Brian's hand wasn't keeping him quiet, that he'd be uttering a litany of encouragement; "More. Again. Yeah, just like that," and a few things that would be undecipherable but still fully understood.
Brian moves his free hand to Justin's balls, testing their weight and then tugging slightly. Justin's suppressed groan makes him do it again before extending one finger and wetting it in the slickness that he's created at the base of Justin's cock.
Even in his half-awake state, Justin knows what's coming and he lifts up a little to give Brian easier access. Brian thinks about teasing him, drawing it out and making Justin wait. But the tightness in Justin's balls and the rigid feel of his dick are enough to signal that it won't be long now. So he pushes his wet finger against Justin's hole, feeling the momentary tensing before Justin, operating purely on instinct at this point, relaxes and lets him in.
Brian's not slow about it, forcing his finger in deeply on the first push as he sucks hard and swallows around Justin. He adds a quiet but steady hum and continues to suck as he pulls back up and presses his finger against Justin's prostate at the same time. He feels a gasp against his palm as Justin's hips arch and he suddenly stops rocking against Brian's movements.
Brian taps his finger once, twice, and again inside of Justin as he pushes his tongue into Justin's slit before sucking down a final time, taking him as deep as he's ever gone while upping the pressure of his mouth and lips. And that's all it takes as he feels the familiar swell and pulse of Justin's orgasm as it flows out of him and into Brian in waves of warm, thick release. He barely notices the sting of Justin's teeth as they bite into his palm.
Brian continues to hold Justin in his mouth as he softens and his breathing slows. He gives a final lick and then moves up the bed. Justin wears a sleepy smile, with closed eyes and parted lips. Brian kisses him then, leans in and lets his tongue play before licking inside and feeling Justin's tongue slide lazily against his own.
When he pulls back, Justin's eyes are open and he has a questioning look on his face. Brian registers a push against his shoulder, but shakes his head slightly before repositioning a sleepy Justin, back to his front. It's the only way they'll both fit in the narrow bed without lying on top of each other. Besides, Justin's almost asleep again and Brian plans on slipping away just as soon as his breathing deepens and the heavy weight of post-orgasmic peace finally takes over.
*****
Brian wakes to bright morning sunlight, surrounded by sweaty skin and a tangle of sheets. Justin's half on top of him and he struggles to remember why he's here and just when it changed from night to day. But he shuts down the attempt at recollection and instead slips out from under Justin and completely out of bed. He barely registers the fact that, despite only a few hours of sleep, he feels more rested than he has in days.
He's dressed and turning towards the door when he catches sight of the letter strewn on top of a collection of random papers that litter the surface of Justin's borrowed desk. Brian frowns slightly at the words in front of him before flipping over the page to see the drawing on the back. He's distracted by a muffled sigh from the bed, and he absently folds the paper a few times before slipping it into his pocket and quietly exiting the room and then the house.
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