It was half past midnight, and Babylon had been hopping since opening time. The weather was particularly shitty that night; the east coast was being bombarded with the effects of global warming in the guise of multiple blizzards.
Currently, there was about two feet of snow outside, and it was still coming down. Instead of keeping people indoors, the snow had driven them out. Ben was attempting to explain why this phenomenon was in play tonight, while Brian tried several times to tell him to shut the fuck up and enjoy the free drinks. Michael was just about to chastise Brian when the music died with a gurgle, and the lights went out.
“What the fuck?” Brian snapped, heading towards boiler room, when the lights flickered. Slowly the room lit up, but only the emergency floods seemed to be working.
“Theodore!”
“Yes, Master?”
“Why aren’t the lights working?” Brian growled, as the club manager argued with someone on the phone.
“Well, if I had to hazard a guess, I would say that the power is out,” Ted answered.
Justin appeared, shaking snow from his hair. “Power’s out all the way down Liberty.”
“We have a generator,” Brian argued.
“Yes, we do, but it’s only got enough amps to power the emergency lights, heating and refrigeration systems.”
“Why??”
“Because that’s what generators do, Brian. They power the important stuff.”
Emmett emerged from the backroom, grinning. “The last time I saw the backroom empty out that fast was when Brian announced that he had the clap.”
“Thank you for the reminder, Honeycutt.”
“Don’t call-“
“Angel! What the fuck?” That seemed to be Brian-speak for ‘what’s going on’, and ‘who do I have to fuck to fix it?’.
“DLC says that a transformer blew. We’re looking at a couple hours, at least.”
Several clubbers overheard, spread the word, and within ten minutes, the club was empty.
Brian’s eyes followed the night’s proceeds out the door. “Fabulous. Some asshole crashes into a light pole and I lose a whole night’s income.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they did it just to piss you off,” Michael responded, shaking his head.
The bouncers came in from the front, and joined security in making sure everyone was gone. Angel attempted to escape Brian by locking up, to no avail. Brian whined the entire time, and Angel looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. Justin looked at Michael, then Ben, and finally Emmett and Ted. No one could say who started, but soon they were all laughing.
“Now that was a performance worthy of Joan Crawford,” Emmett said.
“Justin, I suggest intercepting him and blowing him in the backroom, now, before Angel quits,” Ted added.
“I think it’s better to let him vent his frustration now. That way, he’ll be easier to deal with later,” Ben observed.
Again Michael and Justin shared a look. “No, he won’t,” they both said. Justin reached over the bar and grabbed two bottles of Johnny Walker Blue.
“Whoa, that’s the expensive stuff! Brian will have your ass,” Ted said.
“He already does. Trust me, this will make the wait much calmer. But…you guys don’t have to stay.”
“Free booze? I’m staying,” Emmett said, raising his hand.
“And since we know Ted is staying, and he’s our ride home, we’re staying, too,” Michael said.
“Well then, let’s move this party over to the sofa.” Emmett said, leading the way. Justin walked over, and set the bottles down; then, in true diner fashion, began collecting discarded glasses. Michael watched for a moment, then pitched in. He looked up and saw Ben smiling bemusedly at him.
“What? I grew up in the diner, this is second nature,” Michael said. “But,” he continued, glancing at Justin, “if you start sweeping up confetti, you’re on your own.”
Justin grinned. “Thanks, Zephyr.”
“Smartass.”
Brian came out of the back with Angel, still bitching a mile a minute. When he saw the boys drinking his expensive booze, he seemed to turn it up a notch. It was interesting to watch – Justin thought that Brian looked like Gus about to throw peas at his mom. Angel, the bartenders, and security took the opportunity to run for it.
“Great! Bad enough I’m losing money from this bullshit, but now you bitches are drinking my best booze!”
“Justin was the one that took it,” Emmett said, refilling his glass.
“Thanks, Em,” Justin pouted. Brian stopped in mid-tirade, attention on Justin’s mouth. The fullness of it, the way his top lip sloped inward…the world’s most perfect cocksucking lips he’d ever seen. And he’d fucked enough guys to think of himself as an expert.
“Uh oh, he’s got that look,” Ted said.
“What look?”
Ben grabbed Michael’s face between his hands and turned it. “That one. The one that says he wants to fuck, right now.”
“Oh, that. He always looks like that. Did I ever tell you about the time that Justin ran away to my mom’s house?”
Brian moved to the sofa and pulled Justin down into his lap. He grabbed Emmett’s drink out of his hand and tossed it back, then poured another. “Yeah, that was fun.” He pinched Justin’s ass. “You were hot.”
“I’m always hot.”
“What happened?” Ben asked.
“Jennifer found out about Justin being gay, and he ran to Liberty Ave, looking for Brian. He decided that my mom would know, and headed for her house. My mom called me, and I took Brian with me. He went upstairs, and I had to listen to them fucking in my room for the next two hours.”
“It was only a half hour. I was teaching the lad how to give a proper blowjob. He did so well, I rewarded him with one in return.”
“Uh huh. You do realize how thin the walls are in my mom’s house, right? ‘Oh, fuck me harder, Brian!’” he called out in falsetto.
“I don’t sound like that!” Justin griped.
“Yeah, you do,” Brian whispered in Justin’s ear.
“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly quiet, either,” Justin shot back.
“Tell me about it,” Ted deadpanned. “The first thing I heard when I came out of my coma was Brian fucking the intern.”
“That was the same day,” Michael said.
“He’s got a thing for interns,” Justin laughed.
“Uncle Vic said that you told him that you were gonna sell your body to…what was it…gross old homos?”
“Well, Brian did take me to that cop bar that time,” Justin recalled. “They were gross and old.”
“Wasn’t that the same night that Hunter fucked that cop?” Ben asked.
“The very same, Professor,” Brian said, tipping his glass towards Ben.
“I wanted to kill him that night. Then I wanted to kill you,” Michael said.
“But I’m too pretty, he’s too fast, and you’re too old.”
“A better question would be, ‘tell us about the Wolfman’,” Ted sing-songed.
“Come again?” Justin said.
“When I was staying with Mel and Linds, I snuck a trick back to their place. Because your beloved wouldn’t’ let me borrow the loft for a few minutes – “
“Hey, no one fucks in that bed but me,” Brian broke in.
“Anyway, so I take him up to the studio, and I’m trying to keep him quiet, and right when he comes, he lets out this unholy howl…I think he woke up people in three counties!”
As the others laughed, Brian asked, “But was he any good?”
Emmett smiled. “Very good. If I hadn’t been so mortified, I’d have howled along with him.”
And so it went. They sat around under the flickering lights run by the emergency generator, reminiscing, until, finally around 2 am, the power was restored. One bottle sat empty, the other half gone. The boys stood up, ready to leave, when Ben decided to ask one more question.
“Exactly how long were you fucking Justin on the sly?”
Brian looked at Justin, seeing a slightly younger face, shorter hair and a look that, even then, made him want to give him all his money, and said, “Since the night I walked out of this place and saw him.”
Justin smiled at him, and Brian’s dick grew impossibly hard.
“Thank you for boring me to death tonight, boys. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to punish Justin for stealing my booze.”
He ushered them out into the cold and snow, then headed for the loft, where he punished Justin until they both collapsed, sated, sore and content. Justin stared up at the ceiling.
“You know, you really did say you loved me that first night,” he said quietly.
Brian was silent. Then: “I know.”
“Did you?”
Brian rolled onto his side. He wound his fingers into Justin’s hair and said, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”