britin1729

Title: Save the Date
Prompt: Solstice

Title: False Advertising
Prompt: Bed of roses

britin1729

Title: Doing it Right
Prompts: Champagne pic, I wanna feel you from the inside, fuck the phone

Title: Like Father, Like Son
Prompt: Drunk and disorderly

Title: It's a New Dawn
Prompt: Pink lights pic

britin1729

Title: DIY Disasters
Prompt: Waterfall Pic

Title: The Evasion
Prompt: Do you wanna hold me
Notes: 2/3

Title: The Solution
Prompt: Torrential Downpour
Notes: 3/3

Title: Road Trip
Prompt: Cars, trains, buses, and planes
Notes: 1/2

Title: Best Laid Plans
Prompt: Cars, trains, buses, and planes
Notes: 2/2

britin1729

Title: Monopoly
Prompt: Losers

britin1729

Tonight, you curl against his chest and breathe him in. He's asleep within minutes, but for a long time, you lie awake and take comfort in the steady pounding of his heart beneath your cheek. Your own heart has dropped somewhere in your stomach, but you take a breath and refuse, no matter what, to allow a world to exist without him in it.

britin1729

Brian and Justin sat, waiting, as their friends opened their envelopes. Lindsay gasped. Ted choked, spluttering coffee over the diner table. Emmett thumped him on the back.

Michael spoke first. "You're getting married?!"

"I'm flashing back to four years ago," said Ted.

"Well, if at first you don't succeed..." said Brian.

"I just have one question," Debbie began.

"We understand we never gave a full explanation for calling it off before," said Justin. "But we've talked, and we're sure this is the right time. We're in the same place emotionally, and...."

"No, I meant, which one of you's knocked up?"

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"I can't jerk off now?" Justin starts to laugh, sure Brian is joking, but then he sees his serious expression.

"Not until I say. That's mine now, not yours."

But Justin was never good at following orders, and this is a poor time to test his resolve anyway.

"What did I say about touching yourself?" Brian's voice is husky and rough. "I'm going to have to tie you up, since you can't behave yourself."

He does just that, and Justin never comes so hard in all his life.

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"I still think one of us should take the other's name," said Lindsay. "It'll be easier for the baby."

Melanie shrugged. "So, the kid'll have two last names. What's the big deal? We're not getting married. We're not a straight couple. We don't have to buy into the whole heterosexual, patriarchy of names bullshit."

"It's not about that. It's about being a family."

Mel looked at her sadly. "Having the same last name won't make your parents any happier about what we're doing. It won't bridge the gap between us."

Lindsay sighed, hands automatically going to her belly. "I know."

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Justin's behind him, rubbing his shoulders, and Brian knows where this is heading. His hopes are confirmed when Justin places a wet kiss on his neck, his hands coming around to tease Brian's nipples.

"It doesn't matter how old we get," Justin whispers in his ear. Brian takes Justin's hand and places it against the fabric of his sweatpants, over his hardening dick. "It's only time."

Brian tries to say something sarcastic, but Justin starts stroking his cock, so he moans instead.

Justin smiles against his skin. "You'll always be young and beautiful to me. And we'll always have this."

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"Again?" Justin sighs. "Gus, we talked about this. You can't go sneaking out in the middle of the night when you stay with us."

"This sucks! Just because you two are old and boring..."

Brian raises an eyebrow. "Right, we have no idea what it's like to be sixteen."

"You don't!" snaps Gus. "Just cause we don't all want to stay in and watch TV all the time.... I have a life, you know!"

After the obligatory lecture, they return to bed.

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Justin looks surprised, but touched. Leading him into the crowd, Brian knows he made the right decision. It wasn't that long ago when Justin couldn't even stand being outside the loft, but things are better now. Justin's more than earned the right to be here, more than proven his bravery.

And so they spin and sway to the gentle rhythm of the music, smiling whenever they're not kissing, and it's easy, on this warm, carefree night, to forget about that other dance. Brian closes his eyes and presses his forehead to Justin's; he's never felt quite so proud at Pride.

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Though Justin found Brian's post-bombing confession of love to be something worth melting in Brian's arms about, not everyone was so touched.

"I love him," Brian admitted, grabbing the joint from Mikey's fingers. He couldn't even remember what they'd been talking about that had led to this declaration. "Fuck, I even told him so."

Michael wasn't even slightly stunned. "Everyone's known that for years."

Brian frowned. "Everyone?"

"Pretty much. Me, Ben, Ma, Mel, Linds, Emmett, Ted..."

"What about Justin?"

Michael looked at him with mingled pity and exasperation. "Justin's known the longest."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You were the last to know."

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Molly's eyes never left her father.

Her stomach clenched when she realized he'd been staring— sneering— at her brother and his fag boyfriend. Playing the victim, Craig had said. That's what Justin did, ever since he was seventeen and ran away from home. Always creating drama and breaking up their family in the process.

That was what this whole thing was really about. Craig had tried to right an old wrong, and now he was in prison for it.

Well, now Molly was righting a wrong, too.

She wiped sweaty palms on her pants and tried hard to believe it.

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Debbie beamed up at Brian through teary eyes. Then she shook the bag. "What is it?"

"Open it, Deb," Justin encouraged.

Debbie swiped renewed tears from her eyes but didn't open the bag. "You know, I still remember my first day here." Vic had told her about an opening at the Liberty Diner, so she'd applied that day and started working the next. She'd never looked back.

It had always been more than a job; it had been a second home, a place where family and friends came together for advice and support. A place to share, laugh, and love.

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On good days, Ted didn't even think about his past. On bad days, it was often all he thought about.

Sometimes it would take something completely innocuous, such as someone offering to buy him a drink, and he would feel the heat rise in his face. He'd mumble something incoherent, his stomach bubbling with shame when he remembered the events that had taken him to this place where he couldn't have a wine with dinner or a beer at a bar.

On these days, he'd take a deep breath and remind himself of all the reasons it was worth it.

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But as much as things changed, they stayed the same. During visits, the usual passion caught between them like a flame, burning hot and bright. They smiled, talked, laughed, fucked, and loved. That, at least, would never change.

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When Justin and Daphne were kids, they spent every summer together. They hung out at the pool most days, enjoying the water's respite from the heat as well as the escape from school and all the shit that came along with it.

In middle school, their parents made innocent quips about the two of them getting married someday. In high school, most people were convinced they were dating.

From the beginning, though neither acknowledged it, both knew it would never happen. Justin pretended not to notice the cute boys in his class, and Daphne pretended not to notice him noticing.

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The combined scents of Justin, cigarettes, and leather surround Brian, pulling him deeper into a haze of arousal. Justin sits on top of him on the couch, wearing only that jacket, nude from the waist down. Justin jokes that this will cost a hundred dollars, and when he kisses from Brian's neck to his stomach then wraps his lips around his dick, Brian thinks he'd gladly give every cent he owned.

He finds his release in the warmth of Justin's mouth; afterward, Justin spreads his body over Brian's to kiss him.

Sometimes, the best things in life really are free.

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"Fifty for a blow job. Hundred to fuck." The line is well-rehearsed on your tongue. Usually, the offer carries a hint of desperation, of bravado. Tonight, it's something else. Not the usual thrill of uncertainty, but a stirring of unease. Not your usual bluster, but something like real courage.

He locks the front door behind you, leaving you in shadows, and your heart races in your chest. Jason had spent a night with this man and never seen another morning.

Rather than weakening your resolve, thoughts of Jason reinforce it. You take a deep breath and step into the bedroom.

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"...and he grabbed my hair and came in my mouth." Lisa's story was met with a mixture of giggling, sounds of disgust, and questions, such as "what did it taste like?" that Melanie really didn't want to hear answered. Still, she folded her legs beneath her on Lisa's bed and tried to look interested instead of grossed-out as her friend described her first sexual experience. Then Sarah started talking about her and Scott, and Diane started in about Alan.

"What about you, Mel? Anyone at school you like?"

Melanie forced away thoughts of the gorgeous homecoming queen, Wendy. "Not really."

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Brian and Justin sprawled in bed, legs entangled, twisted in stained sheets. Their lazy stupor was interrupted by a sharp knock.

"Must be the delivery guy," said Justin, nudging Brian. "Your turn to get up."

"Is not," protested Brian from beneath the pillow. "Got the water last time."

"No, I got water in exchange for a rim job, remember? It's your turn to get the food."

"I'll rim you again if you get it."

"My ass hurts."

"Fine. A long blow job... and I'll let you do that thing."

Justin deliberated, then groaned as he sat up. "Where's the cash?"

britin1729

Title: Wake-Up Call

Condom: Blow jobs 

"You look like shit," Brian observed as Michael slumped into the booth across from him.

Michael groaned. "I was up all night, thanks to Ben."

Brian looked impressed. "I didn't know you two had it in you."

"Not that. He fucking snores."

"So does Justin."

"Really? How do you deal with it?"

"Stick my tongue up his ass to wake him up," said Brian matter-of-factly. "Works every time."

"Sunshine lived with me for months. I never heard him snore," said Debbie, setting down two cups of coffee.

"He does it like four nights a week."

Debbie and Michael stared.

"Oh."

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To Justin, sex was like art. For one thing, both were areas he considered himself immensely talented in. For another, Brian was often his inspiration for both activities.

When he painted, he knew how to mix colors to achieve the perfect shade, how to add touches of red or slashes of blue to produce the right effect, evoke the right emotions. In bed, where Brian was his canvas, he knew how to use his tongue on his cock to elicit a moan, or angle his fingers inside to make him beg.

To Justin, sex was like art: passionate and beautiful.

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When Justin's ancient, half-broken, piece of shit cell phone finally met its death by New York sidewalk, Brian bought him a new one and gave it to him on his next visit. It happened to be February, but Brian assured him it was definitely not a Valentine's Day present.

"It means even more that you thought of me just because," said Justin, beaming and leaving Brian to try and figure out when the fuck he'd become so unwittingly romantic. But then Justin was on his knees, giving him a very enthusiastic thank-you blow job, and he stopped thinking at all. 

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"You did not fucking keep track of how many blow jobs I owe you," said Brian, grabbing the paper from Justin's hand.

"You agreed that, in exchange for helping you catch a murderer last month, you owed me a hundred blow jobs," Justin reminded him.

"I didn't actually agree to anything. And the fucker didn't show up— you didn't do anything."

"I pretended to be a prostitute. That's something. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that your debt has been paid in full."

Brian stared at the hundred tally marks. "That took a surprisingly short amount of time."

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"I hope you two have learned a lesson from all this," griped Michael.

"We did. We learned jail isn't nearly as hot as prison porn pretends it is," said Justin, sighing.

"Not when they put us in different cells, it isn't," said Brian, laying a consoling hand on Justin's back.

"I should have left the two of you in there the rest of the night!" said Michael. "Arrested for fucking in public... you're fucking lucky I bailed you out."

"It was just a blow job," Justin muttered.

"We should sue Pittsburgh PD for interrupting," said Brian. "I didn't even come."

britin1729

Title: Imagine Me and You

Condom: Blow jobs

When Justin had lived at home, he'd been too afraid to seek out gay porn online, even on his own computer. Instead, he'd sketched particularly hot guys he saw at school or in movies, his pencil filling in their hard angles, muscles, and cocks. All things that attracted him to men.

He'd often pretended it was their hands on his dick when he jerked off. He'd pictured himself on his knees, a thick cock down his throat. He'd stared at his naked drawings and imagined those bodies against his.

Then he met Brian, and he didn't have to imagine anymore.

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"Sounds like a married closet case looking for a good time and then being too chicken shit to go through with it," said Brian. "You should have gone with a young one—they've got all the balls."

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It started as a joke. They'd been watching Ted try to pick up some hunk, who Brian had been certain would turn him down. Justin had disagreed.

"That guy's been checking him out all night," he insisted, standing on his toes to see over the crowd.

"Probably wondering what he's doing out of the retirement community at this hour."

Justin laughed. "Fine. Let's bet. If Ted goes home with him, you owe me a blow job."

"And if he doesn't, you owe me one."

The hunk put an arm around Theodore, and they left the club together. Justin grinned smugly.