britin1729 (britin1729) wrote in _love_qaf_fic, @ 2010-03-04 23:58:00 |
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Title: Bribes and Babylon
Disclaimer: I don't own QAF
Pairing: Brian/Justin.
Rating: R
A/N: One in a mini-series. Each short fic in the "Fantasy" series will feature a different fantasy of either Brian's or Justin's as they play them out. I've got a few written, but if anyone has any kinks they want to read suggestions or bunnies, I'd like to keep writing these. :)
Fantasy #1: Justin gets a wish granted.
Still, you were sort of expecting...well, a challenge.
It had all started one evening at Debbie's house. He was being his usual horny self, palming you through your jeans and whispering all the ways he was going to fuck you in your ear while you tried to pay attention to the semi-intelligent conversation going on around you. Instead, all you'd ended up thinking about was his dick and all the amazing things he was promising to do with it.
That was, until, he'd gone one promise too far, and slid down the zipper of his pants. You'd shaken your head firmly, concentrating as hard as you could on your meatloaf and green beans, refusing to so much as glance at his lap.
“Come on,” he whispered throatily. “Jerk me off. Right here. No one'll notice.”
You'd shot him a filthy glare. You were in the middle of fucking dinner and he wanted sex? And this time he wasn't even bothering to drag you off to the bathroom with some paper-thin excuse, like he usually did.
“No,” you'd hissed back. So what did the fucker do? Pulled his dick out of his pants and start stroking it. Under the table. Right there for anyone to see. Of course, you were the only ones on this side of the table, but still. There were lesbians present.
“Go fuck yourself,” you'd muttered.
“I'd rather you do it for me, dear,” he'd whispered back. Fucking. Prick. “If you do it,” he continued, “I'll give you the best rim job of your life when we get home.”
You'd snorted in disbelief. “Not gonna work, Brian.”
“I'll— let you fuck me.”
“I already fuck you all I want anyway,” you'd shrugged, which was pretty much true. You knew it would most likely come as a shock to most of your friends, but you really did get to top him more often than he let on.
“I'll...do that thing you wanted to do.”
You'd frozen. “The Thing?” Just to make sure.
“The Thing,” he promised, his eyes a hundred percent serious.
Well, fuck. Your friends were about to get a show.
~.~
So yes. You'd jerked him off under the table at dinner. It was a fucking miracle no one had noticed. Well, there was that one moment where Melanie shot Brian this totally filthy glare, but that was most likely just general acknowledgment of the fact that Brian was still alive.
Now, you're pulling Brian by the hand, leading him out on the dance floor of Babylon. For a second, you reconsider letting him off the hook, then you shrug it off; you'd earned this, and you were sure as hell going to make the most of it.
You're dancing, hot and dirty and it's more like foreplay in the middle of the dance floor. He drives you wild, running his tongue up your throat, your ear, darting it out to lick at your lips. You're practically humping his leg right there, grinding against him as his hands grope your ass. It's so good and so much and you just want more of it.
You're about to say to hell with the whole thing and tell him to come fuck you in the backroom, when he does it. Drops to his knees. In the middle of the dance floor. In front of all of Babylon.
Excitement rushes through you, making you weak in the knees. You feel his arms come up around your hips, holding you steady as he presses his face into your clothed crotch. Oh fuck yes....
Your hands grip his hair automatically, unable to look away as he unzips you and tugs your pants down around your knees, freeing your rock hard cock. You're not wearing any underwear, at his request. You feel people's eyes on you, drinking in the sight of Brian Kinney on his knees for his boyfriend in the middle of Babylon. You can almost feel the whispers floating around you, close enough to touch if only you reached out.
He's teasing you, dragging his tongue achingly slow along the underside of your cock, then sucking on the head, then flicking the slit with his tongue. Honestly, you're surprised he's drawing it out like this. You'd assumed he'd want to get it over with as quickly as possible. And then you realize...Christ...this is his fantasy, too...he's loving this almost as much as you are.
The idea makes your dick twitch, and you sway unsteadily on your feet as, without warning, he lunges forward, taking you completely into his mouth. Your head snaps back, and fuck you can't take this. It's too good, too much. Just the fucking idea of what you're doing is too much for you. You want to make this last, but you can feel the music, the stares, the whispers pulsing all around you, and it all just makes this too hot....
He's sucking in earnest, as though every fiber of him is focused solely on the blow job he's giving you. Fuck, yeah, he wants this. Probably wanted it for a long time, since that first time you'd brought it up, and he refused. You have a feeling you know, now, what was behind his actions at dinner the other night.
You start to fuck his mouth, encouraged by the hand he has positioned at your hip. He lets you, pulls you in. His mouth is warm and wet and wonderful, his tongue talented as it worships your cock.
You wonder, for a moment, if anyone else around you might try and join in. Might try and take this from you. You know it has to look hot, but they seem to know that this is just for the two of you, all yours and his, even if it is about as public as it could possibly get.
You tug on his hair, and you're not entirely sure if it's a plead for him to let you regain your bearings, or a warning that you're about to come, but suddenly it doesn't matter anyway as you do just that, shooting down his throat, a groan escaping your lips.
He sucks down every last drop, your dick going soft in his mouth. Finally, he lets you fall from his lips. He doesn't stand up right away, taking the time to pull up your pants and tuck you back inside before he rises to kiss you. He's saved a bit of your cum, and lets you taste it on his tongue, a mixture of you and him.
“That was hot,” you manage to gasp. Your throat feels rather dry. He grins, his arms slipping around your waist, moving you both to the beat of the music as though he didn't just suck you off in the middle of the dance floor for all of Babylon to see in his ridiculously expensive designer jeans.
“Any more fantasies you want to tell me about?” he asks, leaning in close to your ear to be heard over the pounding beat of the club.
You're sure you can think of something.