TITLE: Blame it on the Beer
AUTHOR:![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
tigbit
WARNINGS: NC-17
SUMMARY: Well there’s this thing, you see, about beer.
A/N: I apologize if this is bad; it was written way, way early in the morning. :)
Brian blames it on the beer.
He remembers a definite line between rational and irrational thinking. He does not, however, remember crossing it. Alcohol does that to a person.
They’d been at Woody’s. Brian remembers a drinking game involving music and needless vibrato that he was far too superior to participate in until he realized that everyone else was laughing a little louder, swaying a little harder, and that he was being left behind. So he jumped on the Booze Train.
(He might or might not have whispered this to Justin, who also might or might not have pulled an invisible string in the air and mouthed “Choo-choo!” with cigarette breath. One can never be sure of such things while en route to Destination: Trashed)
Karaoke started at eleven, which cancelled out their drinking game in a matter of minutes. No one could understand the words well enough to play at that point, and so they migrated over to the pool table for a few rounds of drunken ball-hitting.
Brian was nearly gone. He and Justin shared some kind of Caribbean rum drink while Ted and Michael argued over who got the longest pool stick, although Justin most definitely hogged the straw. He nearly sucked half the drink away in a matter a minutes before Brian reminded him that the straw was a piece of plastic and not a cock. There really was no need to suck quite so hard, he said, even though he commended Justin on his technique.
And just as the last bit of the swirly red drink disappeared down Brian’s throat, he saw it:
The Line.
Small and a bit blurry, it waved its little line-like hand and grinned with its little line-like face. Brian knew for a fact that Justin and Michael and most definitely Ted (who was trying to compose his own drunken opera, at the moment) had stepped over the line without a second thought. Without so much as a fucking wave.
Brian wasn’t so sure about crossing over that little boundary just yet, but then Justin was saying something about his dick and using words like “massive” and “ass fuckage” and rubbing up against his leg like some kind of horny blond cat. It all sounded so fancy and special and interesting, so when Michael did some kind of victory dance and bought them all a round of beer, Brian drank it and continued to listen.
He listened for a long, long time.
***
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Brian growled and hit his steering wheel with both hands as he realized that he’d seen more green in the past ten minutes than he had during the entire Christmas season.
Justin huffed out a laugh and tried to snuggle up against the window. “I can’t believe you suggested it,” he said, and pulled his pillow up a little higher.
“There is no way I suggested this.” Brian was still adamant. “There is no way I would condone any kind of…” he spit out the word, “…outdoor frivolity.” He didn’t even remember telling everyone that he wanted to do this with Michael, Ben, and Justin. But he’d never backed down on a promise. Even if it was a drunk one.
“Yeah, well,” Justin yawned, “you did.”
Brian shook his head. “No way,” he said again, “There’s no fucking way I’d suggest…this.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Michael and Ben turned off into a gravel (fucking gravel!) road ahead of them and Brian slowed down, bitching about his tires and ding marks.
“Camping?” Justin turned his head far enough to raise an eyebrow. His words shook a little from all the bouncing. “You must have wanted it subconsciously. Or else we wouldn’t be here.”
Brian shuddered. Justin had said the word. “Whatever. We’ll put up the tents, you’ll blow me, we’ll have a fire, you’ll blow me, and then maybe we can scare Mikey with our flashlight.” There was no way in hell he’d let anything interrupt his sex life. Woods or no.
“Mmm,” Justin sighed, and Brian was in awe that someone could manage to be sleepy in a jerking, bouncing car, “It’ll be fun. Lighten up.”
They drove in silence for a few more minutes until Brian pulled next to Michael and Ben, who had finally stopped next to a dark brown building - presumably to pay for their camping site. “Right,” he muttered, and tried to convince himself that this wasn’t the most idiotic, drunken idea he’d ever had. And nearly succeeded.
Until a bird pooped on his car.
***
It turned out Ben knew a thing or two about camping.
He set up Brian and Justin’s tent after fixing up his own in less than ten minutes, cleared away a spot for the fire, unpacked their supplies, and asked everyone what they wanted on their kebobs for dinner before Brian had enough time to complain about the flying things in the air.
“Well, it looks like we’re set,” Ben said, looking proud. “The only thing we’re missing is firewood. I think we could save time by splitting up and looking in different parts of the wood.” No one seemed to object, so he continued on. “Michael, you can stay here and watch over the site – make sure nothing tries to steal our food – and Justin, Brian, and I will go and find enough wood to cook our dinner. Okay? Great.” He smiled broadly and patted Brian on the shoulder as he swept past, breaking small twigs as he set off.
“Er,” Michael looked around the site, eyeing the coolers. “What would try and steal our food, exactly?”
Brian, sensing his opportunity, nonchalantly stripped down to his jeans and wifebeater. “Bears, I’d imagine.”
“B-bears?” Michael’s eyes grew wide.
Justin snickered, but tried to pull Brian along. There was only so much fun to be had in torturing Michael; the man made it too easy.
“Uh-huh,” Brian nodded, looking grave. “Or maybe a raccoon. Or a snake. Or possibly all three.”
Michael lowered his voice to a loud stage whisper. “But I don’t like snakes!” Like this was some big surprise; Michael was scared of can openers. “Where are you going?!” he choked out.
Justin had pulled Brian to the edge of the wood. Brian laughed a little and waved a short, solemn farewell. “See ya, Mikey,” he said, sounding grave. “Good luck keeping away the big, scare-wey animals.”
Michael squeaked and immediately jumped on top of the picnic table.
Way too easy.
***
It wasn’t so much fun to look for wood when one already had it.
Justin was goddamn sexy in his outfit. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt, which made it all the more easy to look at his little muscles as they reached for sticks and fallen branches. They’d already made two trips back to the campsite to drop off wood and by now, both Justin and Brian were covered in sweat. Brian watched it gather at the base of Justin’s spine as he bent down to pick up something new.
Fuck it.
“C’mere,” Brian said, and was secretly pleased when he noticed the glint in Justin’s eye. Bless his porny little soul.
Grinning a bit, Justin dropped the few things he’d been carrying and kicked them aside as he made his way over to Brian.
“Time for a break?” Justin leaned back on a tree and smiled as Brian stepped between his legs. His bangs were sticky with sweat and refused to move – even when he shook his head. They covered his right eye.
Brian leaned in and pushed their hips together, slowly rocking. “Something like that,” he said, and bent down.
He traced the edges of Justin’s lips with his tongue while Justin kept his face perfectly still, enjoying the attention. Brian moved his hands from Justin’s hips to behind his ears and pulled their faces closer. Closer.
Brian was faintly aware that something was moving near them as he sucked on Justin’s tongue. Something distinctly Ben-like. He could hear a faraway humming as Justin kicked his foot and shifted his body so he could press his crotch down on Brian’s knee.
Before long, Brian figured Justin must have heard and recognized the humming as well; he stopped pushing back on Brian’s leg and rested his hips against the tree trunk before trying to end the kiss. But Brian pushed in harder. Sucked harder. Held harder.
“Brian, stop.” Justin finally pulled away from the kiss and palmed away the spit on his jaw, flushed and smiling. “He’ll be here any second.” Seeing Brian’s slight frown, he laughed once and leaned in to press a quick peck against his neck before whispering. “But I promise I’ll let you fuck me in the tent when we have some time alone.”
Brian wanted to pout. Except he never fucking pouted. Like they’d ever have time alone this weekend; there was nowhere else for them to go except the campsite and the woods.
And then, an idea.
“Scared he’ll see you?”
Justin had turned his head to follow the sound, but as soon as Brian spoke he moved it back, slow and confused. “What the hell?” he asked, relaxing back against the tree.
“I said are you scared that he’ll see you?” Brian kept his voice low and serious. He stepped forward until there was absolutely no space between them and wriggled a hand down to pet Justin’s fly and hard cock through the denim.
Justin squirmed, dropping his bottom lip and sucking in a sharp breath when Brian squeezed. “I don’t…I don’t want him to see us like this,” he bit out. His face was turning pink.
“Really?” Brian used his weight to keep Justin pinned against the tree and used both of his hands to unzip Justin’s fly. Justin tried to wriggle away, but there was nothing he could do; Brian pulled his jeans down far enough to grab at Justin’s cock, stroking hard. “You really don’t?”
Justin moaned – half grumble, half whine. “No.”
“Don’t want him to see your cock?” Brian kept rubbing his thumb on the underside of the tip, stopping only to squeeze further down. “Don’t want him to see my hand on your dripping cock?” His other hand plucked at a nipple through Justin’s shirt and he relished in the soft whine and quick turn of Justin’s head. Leaned in and breathed against an ear. “Why don’t you want him to hear you moan?”
Tipping his head back against the tree, Justin squeezed his eyes shut as his cheeks grew darker. “I don’t…I can’t…” His body was fighting his mind.
“Sounds like he’s on his way.” He pressed the words into Justin’s neck and Justin squirmed against the tree – wriggling until he realized the bark pressed into his back. Brian lowered his voice even more. “I think you’d better hurry.”
Justin bit his lip to keep in the moan. He must have finally made up his mind; pulling Brian’s face to his own, he sucked on Brian’s ear, nose, chin, lips as he pumped his hips into Brian’s hand.
“C’mon,” Brian encouraged, pulling away his wet lips. “You’re almost there.”
Justin growled and Brian saw a quick flash of dark pink cheeks and tilted eyebrows before Justin pushed his face into Brian’s neck, huffing against his shoulder. His dick was slipping in and out of Brian’s hand faster, now – pre-come and sweat lubing the quick pull and squeeze. Breath escaped in the beginnings of moans and the endings of gasps. “Mm-oh, mm-oh.”
Brian felt a small swelling of pride. If Justin was like this with just a hand-job, there was no telling how vocal he’d be in a fuck. Especially a fuck right next to the other tent.
Ben was getting ridiculously close now – close enough for Brian to hear the twigs snapping under his feet. Louder every second. Time for the kill.
“I think he’s going to see you come, Justin.” Brian moved his hips in time with his hand, still rubbing through Justin’s shirt. “He’s here, he’s close. And you’re almost there.” Not a lie.
“No…” Brian could feel Justin’s abs clenching, could feel him scrunching his face against his neck. “Oh g—” He groaned in his throat when he came, pulling Brian closer with his hands and squeezing tight, tight, tight as his body clenched and released.
He panted into Brian’s neck long enough to gain back the steady breathing of his breath. Long enough to realize that Ben was still around, puttering in the forest and still humming that ridiculous song.
“Shit, Brian,” Justin said, finally pushing himself off of the tree. “Shit.” He bent down to pick up the pants that had fallen on the ground – using his underwear to wipe away the come and stuffing it in his pocket when he’d finished.
He was so cute when he was flustered.
“You’re fine,” Brian reminded him, “He didn’t see you.”
Justin hid his face in his hands for one quick moment, shaking his head. “God, I can’t believe we did that,” he groaned out, still embarrassed. He lightly smacked Brian on the chest as he tiptoed past, looking for Ben.
“I think he’s heading back,” Brian said, looking over Justin’s shoulder.
Justin turned around and snorted. “It figures,” he said, before scrunching his face and reaching a hand around to scratch at his back. “Nothing better have been on that tree, Brian. I don’t want to leave here with some…wood virus, or anything.” So, so serious. Still cute.
“Mmm,” Brian leaned forward and pecked a kiss on his nose, “we can’t have that.”
Justin smiled for one long moment, reaching forward to run a dirty, smelly hand over Brian’s cheek. “Now I can’t wait for tonight. When it’s your turn.” He grinned again, mischievous, and cupped Brian through his pants.
“Can’t wait.”
AUTHOR:
tigbitWARNINGS: NC-17
SUMMARY: Well there’s this thing, you see, about beer.
A/N: I apologize if this is bad; it was written way, way early in the morning. :)
Brian blames it on the beer.
He remembers a definite line between rational and irrational thinking. He does not, however, remember crossing it. Alcohol does that to a person.
They’d been at Woody’s. Brian remembers a drinking game involving music and needless vibrato that he was far too superior to participate in until he realized that everyone else was laughing a little louder, swaying a little harder, and that he was being left behind. So he jumped on the Booze Train.
(He might or might not have whispered this to Justin, who also might or might not have pulled an invisible string in the air and mouthed “Choo-choo!” with cigarette breath. One can never be sure of such things while en route to Destination: Trashed)
Karaoke started at eleven, which cancelled out their drinking game in a matter of minutes. No one could understand the words well enough to play at that point, and so they migrated over to the pool table for a few rounds of drunken ball-hitting.
Brian was nearly gone. He and Justin shared some kind of Caribbean rum drink while Ted and Michael argued over who got the longest pool stick, although Justin most definitely hogged the straw. He nearly sucked half the drink away in a matter a minutes before Brian reminded him that the straw was a piece of plastic and not a cock. There really was no need to suck quite so hard, he said, even though he commended Justin on his technique.
And just as the last bit of the swirly red drink disappeared down Brian’s throat, he saw it:
The Line.
Small and a bit blurry, it waved its little line-like hand and grinned with its little line-like face. Brian knew for a fact that Justin and Michael and most definitely Ted (who was trying to compose his own drunken opera, at the moment) had stepped over the line without a second thought. Without so much as a fucking wave.
Brian wasn’t so sure about crossing over that little boundary just yet, but then Justin was saying something about his dick and using words like “massive” and “ass fuckage” and rubbing up against his leg like some kind of horny blond cat. It all sounded so fancy and special and interesting, so when Michael did some kind of victory dance and bought them all a round of beer, Brian drank it and continued to listen.
He listened for a long, long time.
***
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Brian growled and hit his steering wheel with both hands as he realized that he’d seen more green in the past ten minutes than he had during the entire Christmas season.
Justin huffed out a laugh and tried to snuggle up against the window. “I can’t believe you suggested it,” he said, and pulled his pillow up a little higher.
“There is no way I suggested this.” Brian was still adamant. “There is no way I would condone any kind of…” he spit out the word, “…outdoor frivolity.” He didn’t even remember telling everyone that he wanted to do this with Michael, Ben, and Justin. But he’d never backed down on a promise. Even if it was a drunk one.
“Yeah, well,” Justin yawned, “you did.”
Brian shook his head. “No way,” he said again, “There’s no fucking way I’d suggest…this.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Michael and Ben turned off into a gravel (fucking gravel!) road ahead of them and Brian slowed down, bitching about his tires and ding marks.
“Camping?” Justin turned his head far enough to raise an eyebrow. His words shook a little from all the bouncing. “You must have wanted it subconsciously. Or else we wouldn’t be here.”
Brian shuddered. Justin had said the word. “Whatever. We’ll put up the tents, you’ll blow me, we’ll have a fire, you’ll blow me, and then maybe we can scare Mikey with our flashlight.” There was no way in hell he’d let anything interrupt his sex life. Woods or no.
“Mmm,” Justin sighed, and Brian was in awe that someone could manage to be sleepy in a jerking, bouncing car, “It’ll be fun. Lighten up.”
They drove in silence for a few more minutes until Brian pulled next to Michael and Ben, who had finally stopped next to a dark brown building - presumably to pay for their camping site. “Right,” he muttered, and tried to convince himself that this wasn’t the most idiotic, drunken idea he’d ever had. And nearly succeeded.
Until a bird pooped on his car.
***
It turned out Ben knew a thing or two about camping.
He set up Brian and Justin’s tent after fixing up his own in less than ten minutes, cleared away a spot for the fire, unpacked their supplies, and asked everyone what they wanted on their kebobs for dinner before Brian had enough time to complain about the flying things in the air.
“Well, it looks like we’re set,” Ben said, looking proud. “The only thing we’re missing is firewood. I think we could save time by splitting up and looking in different parts of the wood.” No one seemed to object, so he continued on. “Michael, you can stay here and watch over the site – make sure nothing tries to steal our food – and Justin, Brian, and I will go and find enough wood to cook our dinner. Okay? Great.” He smiled broadly and patted Brian on the shoulder as he swept past, breaking small twigs as he set off.
“Er,” Michael looked around the site, eyeing the coolers. “What would try and steal our food, exactly?”
Brian, sensing his opportunity, nonchalantly stripped down to his jeans and wifebeater. “Bears, I’d imagine.”
“B-bears?” Michael’s eyes grew wide.
Justin snickered, but tried to pull Brian along. There was only so much fun to be had in torturing Michael; the man made it too easy.
“Uh-huh,” Brian nodded, looking grave. “Or maybe a raccoon. Or a snake. Or possibly all three.”
Michael lowered his voice to a loud stage whisper. “But I don’t like snakes!” Like this was some big surprise; Michael was scared of can openers. “Where are you going?!” he choked out.
Justin had pulled Brian to the edge of the wood. Brian laughed a little and waved a short, solemn farewell. “See ya, Mikey,” he said, sounding grave. “Good luck keeping away the big, scare-wey animals.”
Michael squeaked and immediately jumped on top of the picnic table.
Way too easy.
***
It wasn’t so much fun to look for wood when one already had it.
Justin was goddamn sexy in his outfit. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt, which made it all the more easy to look at his little muscles as they reached for sticks and fallen branches. They’d already made two trips back to the campsite to drop off wood and by now, both Justin and Brian were covered in sweat. Brian watched it gather at the base of Justin’s spine as he bent down to pick up something new.
Fuck it.
“C’mere,” Brian said, and was secretly pleased when he noticed the glint in Justin’s eye. Bless his porny little soul.
Grinning a bit, Justin dropped the few things he’d been carrying and kicked them aside as he made his way over to Brian.
“Time for a break?” Justin leaned back on a tree and smiled as Brian stepped between his legs. His bangs were sticky with sweat and refused to move – even when he shook his head. They covered his right eye.
Brian leaned in and pushed their hips together, slowly rocking. “Something like that,” he said, and bent down.
He traced the edges of Justin’s lips with his tongue while Justin kept his face perfectly still, enjoying the attention. Brian moved his hands from Justin’s hips to behind his ears and pulled their faces closer. Closer.
Brian was faintly aware that something was moving near them as he sucked on Justin’s tongue. Something distinctly Ben-like. He could hear a faraway humming as Justin kicked his foot and shifted his body so he could press his crotch down on Brian’s knee.
Before long, Brian figured Justin must have heard and recognized the humming as well; he stopped pushing back on Brian’s leg and rested his hips against the tree trunk before trying to end the kiss. But Brian pushed in harder. Sucked harder. Held harder.
“Brian, stop.” Justin finally pulled away from the kiss and palmed away the spit on his jaw, flushed and smiling. “He’ll be here any second.” Seeing Brian’s slight frown, he laughed once and leaned in to press a quick peck against his neck before whispering. “But I promise I’ll let you fuck me in the tent when we have some time alone.”
Brian wanted to pout. Except he never fucking pouted. Like they’d ever have time alone this weekend; there was nowhere else for them to go except the campsite and the woods.
And then, an idea.
“Scared he’ll see you?”
Justin had turned his head to follow the sound, but as soon as Brian spoke he moved it back, slow and confused. “What the hell?” he asked, relaxing back against the tree.
“I said are you scared that he’ll see you?” Brian kept his voice low and serious. He stepped forward until there was absolutely no space between them and wriggled a hand down to pet Justin’s fly and hard cock through the denim.
Justin squirmed, dropping his bottom lip and sucking in a sharp breath when Brian squeezed. “I don’t…I don’t want him to see us like this,” he bit out. His face was turning pink.
“Really?” Brian used his weight to keep Justin pinned against the tree and used both of his hands to unzip Justin’s fly. Justin tried to wriggle away, but there was nothing he could do; Brian pulled his jeans down far enough to grab at Justin’s cock, stroking hard. “You really don’t?”
Justin moaned – half grumble, half whine. “No.”
“Don’t want him to see your cock?” Brian kept rubbing his thumb on the underside of the tip, stopping only to squeeze further down. “Don’t want him to see my hand on your dripping cock?” His other hand plucked at a nipple through Justin’s shirt and he relished in the soft whine and quick turn of Justin’s head. Leaned in and breathed against an ear. “Why don’t you want him to hear you moan?”
Tipping his head back against the tree, Justin squeezed his eyes shut as his cheeks grew darker. “I don’t…I can’t…” His body was fighting his mind.
“Sounds like he’s on his way.” He pressed the words into Justin’s neck and Justin squirmed against the tree – wriggling until he realized the bark pressed into his back. Brian lowered his voice even more. “I think you’d better hurry.”
Justin bit his lip to keep in the moan. He must have finally made up his mind; pulling Brian’s face to his own, he sucked on Brian’s ear, nose, chin, lips as he pumped his hips into Brian’s hand.
“C’mon,” Brian encouraged, pulling away his wet lips. “You’re almost there.”
Justin growled and Brian saw a quick flash of dark pink cheeks and tilted eyebrows before Justin pushed his face into Brian’s neck, huffing against his shoulder. His dick was slipping in and out of Brian’s hand faster, now – pre-come and sweat lubing the quick pull and squeeze. Breath escaped in the beginnings of moans and the endings of gasps. “Mm-oh, mm-oh.”
Brian felt a small swelling of pride. If Justin was like this with just a hand-job, there was no telling how vocal he’d be in a fuck. Especially a fuck right next to the other tent.
Ben was getting ridiculously close now – close enough for Brian to hear the twigs snapping under his feet. Louder every second. Time for the kill.
“I think he’s going to see you come, Justin.” Brian moved his hips in time with his hand, still rubbing through Justin’s shirt. “He’s here, he’s close. And you’re almost there.” Not a lie.
“No…” Brian could feel Justin’s abs clenching, could feel him scrunching his face against his neck. “Oh g—” He groaned in his throat when he came, pulling Brian closer with his hands and squeezing tight, tight, tight as his body clenched and released.
He panted into Brian’s neck long enough to gain back the steady breathing of his breath. Long enough to realize that Ben was still around, puttering in the forest and still humming that ridiculous song.
“Shit, Brian,” Justin said, finally pushing himself off of the tree. “Shit.” He bent down to pick up the pants that had fallen on the ground – using his underwear to wipe away the come and stuffing it in his pocket when he’d finished.
He was so cute when he was flustered.
“You’re fine,” Brian reminded him, “He didn’t see you.”
Justin hid his face in his hands for one quick moment, shaking his head. “God, I can’t believe we did that,” he groaned out, still embarrassed. He lightly smacked Brian on the chest as he tiptoed past, looking for Ben.
“I think he’s heading back,” Brian said, looking over Justin’s shoulder.
Justin turned around and snorted. “It figures,” he said, before scrunching his face and reaching a hand around to scratch at his back. “Nothing better have been on that tree, Brian. I don’t want to leave here with some…wood virus, or anything.” So, so serious. Still cute.
“Mmm,” Brian leaned forward and pecked a kiss on his nose, “we can’t have that.”
Justin smiled for one long moment, reaching forward to run a dirty, smelly hand over Brian’s cheek. “Now I can’t wait for tonight. When it’s your turn.” He grinned again, mischievous, and cupped Brian through his pants.
“Can’t wait.”
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