Consequence
He walks right into the bathroom without thinking about it while Brians
in the shower. Neither of them have cared for years who sees who pee, and Brian
got over his weird obsession with privacy a few months back, so unless the door
is shut and locked, Justin usually just goes about his business without thinking
too much.
The steam is rising from the top of the shower stall and almost completely covers
the mirror, but Justin still glances into it when he catches movement.
Brian faces away from him, and Justin can tell hes jerking off. Its
not an uncommon thing, they both do it on the average of four or five times
a week depending on how much sex theyve had, but for some reason the sheer
beauty of Brian makes Justin stop and stare. He turns, slowly, and leans against
the sink to watch.
Brian has his right shoulder against the tile and is turned toward the glass
door at an angle, enough for Justin to see him sliding his cock through a practiced
fist. The small bottle of baby oil that they keep in the shower has its cap
flipped open and Brians dick glistens with it, the water beading over
the oil. Brians eyes are slitted and Justin thinks he probably knows Justins
standing there, but nothing ever keeps Brian from sexual pleasure. Justin often
wonders if there were some catastrophe or natural disaster if Brian would stop
fucking long enough to seek cover.
Brian arches his neck and the very tip of his tongue pokes out of his mouth,
and then Justin knows for sure that Brian has seen him. Brian Kinney is nothing
if not an exhibitionist, especially for Justin, for the simple reason that Brian
knows he can turn on any gay male within rimming distance.
Justin makes no move toward the shower, choosing instead to let Brian finish
alone. He knows Brian couldnt give a damn either way because the end result
is still going to be an orgasm, and thats pretty much all that matters.
So Justin is content to watch him stroke himself, and ignore the fact that his
own cock is rock-hard in his jeans.
The water makes fascinating patterns everywhere, and Justin is sort of mesmerized
by it as it runs in rivulets over Brians arm and down through the fingers
that are fisting his dick. It makes Brians skin gleam through the glass,
and Justin focuses in on Brians hand as the head of his cock appears and
disappears out the top of his fist. The rhythm Brian has set lulls Justin, and
he stares for a while before he realizes that Brian has opened his eyes and
is watching him.
Justin blinks at him, unaware until now that hes been rubbing the bulge
in his jeans with the flat of his palm. Brians eyes travel downward briefly,
scanning Justins erection, then slide back up to Justins face. He
raises his chin slightly and then motions once with his head.
Shirt off, jeans to the floor, and Justin nearly trips while trying to kick
them away. He yanks the shower door open and Brian smirks. Youre
smooth.
And youre killing me, Justin pants, and feels behind him for
the ever-present condom in the soap dish.
Brian eyes the condom while wrapping Justins hand around his slick cock.
What do you think youre going to do with that?
I love it when you pretend you dont know, Justin says, stroking
Brian just the way he likes and grinning when Brian squeezes his eyes shut and
draws a deep breath.
Justin knows that Brian lets him top more than any of their friends would guess.
Justin also knows that its sort of an unspoken agreement between them;
Justin doesnt brag about it and Brian keeps letting him do it. Justin
figures the topping outweighs the not-bragging.
So he uses the baby oil liberally, ignoring the discreet packet of lube thats
always next to the condom in the soap dish. He slicks himself and Brian at the
same time, while Brian braces both hands on the tile and lowers his head. Justin
slides in easily, relishing the burn in his calves from standing on tiptoe,
and watches Brians back muscles tense and then relax.
So tight and so warm, and the water around them beats a steady rhythm that Justin
tries to match. Brian thrusts back slightly against him, tilting his hips so
that Justin bumps his prostate, and Justin watches Brians fingers flex
and slide against the tile. Their panting echoes off the walls and Justin knows
that if they werent in the shower, they would both be covered in sweat.
And then Justins balls tighten almost without warning and the orgasm sweeps
over him, just like it does every fucking time Brian lets him do this, and he
thinks that one of these days hell learn how to control himself. But not
today. Today, he comes suddenly and hard, one hand clutching Brians hip
and the other arm wrapped around Brians waist, barely feeling the quick
jerking motions as Brian finishes himself off with his right hand.
They both let the water rain down around them, their breathing in sync, until
Justin softens and slips out. Its not until then that he notices.
Uh oh, he says without thinking, and then pulls his lips between
his teeth and bites them.
Brian looks over his shoulder. Not what a guy likes to hear.
Uh. Yeah, Justin says with a laugh, and examines the rip in the
condom still on his dick.
Brian turns and looks at the condom for a long time. His silence is deafening.
Broke, Justin says unnecessarily, and Brian puts his tongue in his
cheek.
How the fuck.
Not sure, Justin says uneasily, sliding it off and inspecting the
hole with his fingers, and thats when his foot comes into contact with
the forgotten baby oil bottle. They both look down, and then back up at each
other together.
You used the baby oil, Brian says calmly. The fucking baby
oil.
I forgot, Justin replies a little desperately, the calmness in Brians
voice frightening him more than any kind of yelling Brian could do.
You forgot.
I did, I totally forgot, Brian, it was just there and you were so hot,
and I just forgot is all. And its the truth, Justin knows better
than to cover up a mistake like this with a lie.
Youve only been out of high school for three years. You forgot all
your goddamn sex ed in three years? They didnt fucking teach you anything
in that goddamn fancyass school about oil and latex? Jesus Christ. Brian
runs a hand through his wet hair in frustration before yanking open the shower
door and stalking out.
Justin stays in the shower until the water runs cold, thinking up various things
to say in his head, and then settles on honesty because Brian would laugh at
anything else.
Hell probably laugh at the honesty too, but Justin has experience with
that.
He shuts off the water and grabs his towel, leaving drops of water behind him
as he trails out of the bathroom. Brian is pulling on clothes with irritated
movements, his dripping hair leaving small dark spots on his shirt. Justin approaches
cautiously.
Brian, it was an accident. Come on. You cant be mad. Which
is ridiculous to say, really, because Brian can be any damn thing he wants to
be, and usually is.
Oh! Brian says with false cheer. I cant? Okay.
He snorts in disgust. Better clear your schedule tomorrow.
What? Why? Im supposed to work. Justin sits on the edge of
the bed and watches Brian run a comb through his hair.
No. Youre going to the free clinic on Tenth Street. You will bring
me the copy of the HIV and hep tests that they will run, and then in two weeks
you will bring me the results. Are you clear on that?
What! Justin leaps to his feet and shouts it. Im
fucking clean, Brian! Jesus!
Good, Brian says mildly. Then prove it.
What about you! Justin knows the volume of his shouting is reaching
intolerable levels but he cant seem to help it. How do I know youre
fine? Even as he says it he hears how stupid it is. You cant be
Brian Kinney and not know if youre negative or positive.
Brian reaches into the top drawer of his dresser and pulls out a piece of yellow
carbon paper. He tosses it in Justins direction before stalking down the
stairs into the living room.
Justin studies the receipt from the doctors office dated one month prior.
His eyes skim the negative test results before he crumples the paper into a
ball and lobs it through the doorway. It lands in the middle of the living room
floor and sits there like an unwelcome bug. Fine, he says loudly,
and watches Brian ignore him.
* * *
He goes to the same clinic Emmett went to, because Justin will get the fucking
tests but hell be damned if hell let Brian dictate which place he
gets them done.
Justin gives a lot of credit to Emmett for not batting a mascaraed eyelash when
he asked him for the name of the place. Here you go, honey, is all
he said, and wrote the name down on a napkin. Go early. They make you
wait forever.
Justin sits in the waiting room and watches most of the fags in Pittsburgh come
in and out through the doors. Some are clutching paperwork like lifelines, others
are clutching each other, and some are empty-handed and empty-expressioned.
Justin wonders how many of them were ordered there by their lovers.
He figures he would have gone eventually. Theres just no way to avoid
it, really, especially with Vic as well as Michaels boyfriend being a
constant reminder for all of them. Justin imagines that when they discovered
Vic was positive, it didn't have as much of an impact as when Michael told them
about Ben. None of them were fucking Vic, after all. And Ben
well, Michael
and Brian were familiar with that territory.
So yeah, Justin knows he would have ultimately wound up here. You cant
be out of the closet in Pittsburgh and have no answer when the inevitable question
comes: You negative?
I dont know just really isnt an acceptable answer to
that.
In the small office, Justin stares for a long time at Taylor, Justin
on the small vial. He only winces a little when they stick him, and watches
with interest as his blood fills the tube.
Ten days, the physicians assistant says brusquely, and hands
him his papers.
* * *
Justin thinks theres no damn way hes going to let Brian be the one
to decide that they arent having sex until he gets his results, so he
sleeps at Daphnes for three nights and his mothers for one. By the
second night at his moms, Jennifer starts getting the worried look on
her face that Justin hates, so he leaves and goes to Debs.
Debbie makes it for four whole days without asking whats going on, and
when she does, Justin figures he might as well just go home. Brians silence
cant be worse than all the worried women in his life.
Youre back, Brian says casually when Justin walks in.
Yep, Justin replies, and takes a shower. He waits the whole time
for Brian to come in with him just so he can kick him out, but his fingers wrinkle
before that happens, so he shuts the water off instead.
Towel around his waist, Justin parades out to the living room with wet hair.
Its a fetish of Brians, the wet hair thing, and Justin figures hell
flaunt it. He sits down on a barstool and watches Brian uncap a beer. He runs
his fingers through his damp hair, secretly glad its starting to grow,
and waits.
Brian barely glances at him. You eating here tonight, or what?
Depends, Justin says casually. Whats for dinner?
What are you making?
Fuck that.
Then were not eating, Brian shrugs, and opens his laptop.
He leans his elbows on the counter and studies the screen.
Im going out, Justin says loudly. Brian ignores him, so he
tries again. To Babylon. Its Red, White, and Blow Night.
Bring extra condoms, Brian advises, finally looking up from his
computer. You know, in case one breaks?
Justin gets dressed and slams the loft door when he leaves.
* * *
He gets a message on his cell that his results are in, but he purposely doesnt
pick them up for another two days. He secretly hopes that Brian will ask about
it, but of course that doesnt happen and Justin just gets more annoyed.
Then he figures that hes not doing himself any good by not knowing his
own health status, so he goes.
He takes the pink copy of his tests to the diner. Sitting in the farthest corner
booth, Justin plays with a drinking straw and studies the paper.
He had thought that hed feel some sort of pleasure or relief or something
in the way of happiness. But the neat columns of negative across
the page only make him sort of neutral, in an inexplicable way, and irrationally
angry at the man whod insisted on the tests in the first place. Justin
doesnt want to think about why hes angry at Brian, only that he
is angry, and somehow its Brians fault.
Justin wonders if he makes things Brians fault on purpose.
A Belgian waffle with blueberry sauce and whipped cream appears in front of
him. Justin looks up at Debbie. She cracks her gum and beams. Eat that,
she motions. Itll cure whatever shit ails ya.
Justin half-smiles and sticks a finger into the whipped cream. Thanks.
Well, Jesus, dont play with it, Sunshine. Save the fingers for someones
ass or something! Debbie peers at him. Whassamatter?
Nah, nothing, Deb. Uh, can I have a Coke? Justin tries to divert
her with the smile that earned him his nickname.
Debbie narrows her eyes and sits down across from him. You dont
try that bullshit with me, Justin. I know you as well as your own mother, bless
her heart.
Justin huffs a sound of agreement. Yeah. Better, really.
So? Lets hear it. I dont have all fuckin day.
Debbie leans one elbow on the table and taps her pencil on the formica.
Justin pushes the paper toward her and waits while she studies it. He wonders
if she knows that Michael gets the same wrinkle between his brows when hes
thinking.
Sunshine, she says slowly, not looking up from the paper, this
is fuckin great.
Yeah, he says, and thinks maybe theres something in his voice
that doesnt agree, because Debbie looks up sharply.
You kiddin me? This is fuckin great! She slides
out of her seat and comes around the table, kissing him on the cheek and ruffling
his newly grown hair.
Brian made me, he says abruptly, and wonders why hes telling
her.
Well, good for him, Deb mutters. Nice to know hes thinking
about someone else.
No, I mean
he made me. In his own best interest. Not mine.
The fry cook dings the service bell impatiently and Debbie waves a hand at him
over her shoulder. What the hell are you talking about?
Justin relates the story quickly, in one breath, and when he finishes he keeps
his eyes on the tabletop. He figures its easier to await judgement when
you dont look at the source.
Debbie leans over and picks up his test results. Folding them in half, she places
them carefully in front of Justin. You know what I think? she says
quietly, and Justin reminds himself to ask Michael how he lived with his mothers
guilt for so long. I think youre both so busy playing it cool that
youre too fuckin stupid to see when youre hurting each other.
She turns toward the kitchen and yells, Jesus Christ, Carlos, Im
coming!
Justin leaves his half-eaten waffle.
* * *
The loft is empty and silent. Justin showers and dresses without turning on
the radio or television like he normally does, listening to the quiet instead.
Brian is noisy when hes home. Its difficult for Justin to draw when
theres a steady stream of constant muttering in the background. And Brian
never places anything in the sink; he drops it there with a clatter to show
his impatience with life. Justin wonders sometimes if Brians going deaf
because the volume is always up on his computer and the incoming ping
of his email constantly makes Justin flinch.
Justin doesnt dislike it, though. He prefers it to the emptiness that
surrounds him now. Justin figures noise is what makes a place home, and remembers
how quiet his own house was. He thinks that maybe he should make a little more
noise himself.
He takes the test results from the pocket of his crumpled-up khakis and smoothes
the paper out on the bar. He looks at it for a long time before he leaves it
where it is and goes to Babylon.
* * *
Hes getting his dick sucked and half-heartedly enjoying it when he knows
Brian has entered the back room. He doesnt see him, but he doesnt
need to. Aside from the fact that Justin always knows when Brians near
him, a low murmur spreads through the darkened corners and Justin can hear Kinney
being whispered and passed from mouth to mouth.
Brian cuts a path through the fucking and sucking and positions himself directly
in front of Justin. Justin thinks briefly that no one else would have the nerve
to interrupt his blowjob except for Brian. Brian Kinney is who he is and everyone
knows it.
Especially Justin.
But Justin tries to deter him anyway, saying, Do you mind? Its hard
to come while Im being glared at.
The trick stops sucking and turns around. Oh, hey, Brian, he simpers.
Want me to suck you off?
Hey, Justin protests, but the trick ignores him.
Brian makes a wry face at the guy. Take a walk. You just lost the chance
to finish young Taylor, here.
The trick makes a small moue of annoyance but doesnt argue. He heads to
a threesome in the opposite corner and is soon busy with another dick in his
mouth.
I suppose youre not going to take care of this, Justin motions
in the direction of his stiff cock. So excuse me while I find someone
who will. He jerks up his pants and makes a move to push past Brian.
Brian stands immovable with the tolerant look Justin loathes. It usually means
Brian is trying to be patient about something, and Justin really doesnt
feel like being the target of Brians patience. Justin stops
where he is and folds his arms, studying the stained cement floor. Then he thinks
he looks like a pouting child, so he puts his hands on his hips and stares at
Brian instead.
Brian leans forward so hes not overheard and places his lips near Justins
ear. I saw the results.
Justin wishes the hairs on his arm didnt stand up every time Brians
mouth got close to his skin. You were supposed to.
Yeah. Brian says nothing else, just stands close to Justin with
his head down.
He remembers Debbies words then, and doesnt have to wonder if theyre
true. Brians silence tells him they are. Hey, he says softly,
and nuzzles lightly at Brians neck.
Its the forgiveness Brian was waiting for, and he turns into Justin, bringing
his hands up to hold Justins head while he kisses him. Justin stands still
while Brian tastes his mouth, liking the feel of Brians fingers in his
hair. And then Brian stops to whisper words Justin isnt sure hes
heard correctly.
Im sorry, Brian murmurs into his hair. I knew you were
clean.
Justin shakes his head. You didnt. Neither of us did. Well, I kind
of knew, but I hadnt been tested, Brian. You couldnt have known
for sure.
I did.
How?
Because, Brian says, and looks into Justins eyes. Because
you wouldnt endanger me.
And there it is, Justin thinks, the trust and the confidence hes always
longed for Brian to show him, and suddenly Justin is afraid of it. Afraid of
the suddenness and the responsibility, frightened of the seriousness with which
Brian says it. But its out there, the words have been said and Justin
cant make Brian take them back, doesnt want him to take them back,
Justin wants to keep them close and think about them another time.
No, Justin says slowly, and kisses him, I wouldnt.
Brian nods solemnly and they rest their foreheads together. Justin shifts uncomfortably
after a minute, still hard inside his jeans, and Brian smirks. Your balls
will be blue for a week unless you do something about that.
Really, Justin says sarcastically, I had no idea. What should
I do?
Brian unzips him, lets his cock spring free, and Justin breathes a sigh of relief
when Brian begins to stroke him. You should start with this, Brian
purrs, and then Justin gets a wicked idea.
So, umm
how sorry are you? He nips Brians neck for
leverage while he says it, and feels Brian arch in response.
I said I was.
Sometimes words arent enough. Justin holds his breath while
he waits for a response, knowing he is treading on dangerous ground.
Brian leans back to look at him and Justin gets braver. He slips from Brians
embrace and circles behind him, gently pushing him toward the wall. Brian resists
slightly, raising one eyebrow at Justin over his shoulder, but Justin pushes
harder and Brian takes the three steps to the wall. Fishing in Brians
back pocket, Justin produces the condom and holds it in his teeth.
Justin, Brian says warningly, and turns partially around.
Brian, Justin replies in the same tone, and catches a glimpse of
a reluctant half-smile. Cmon.
And then, just as Justin is prepared to give in and assume his normal position,
Brian relents. Just make it quick, he mutters. Shouldnt
be much of a problem.
Justin reaches around and pops Brians buttonfly while ripping the condom
wrapper with his teeth, chancing a look around while he does. At least five
heads are turned in their direction. Guys are stopped in mid-blow while they
watch Brian Kinney face the wall, and more guys who are in the process of being
fucked have forgotten about the dicks up their asses and are only interested
in watching Brian get topped.
Justin thought he would like it, but he only resents their awe and flips a couple
of them off. They just blink back at him. Fuckers, he mutters, and
Brian lifts his head.
Forget them, he says quietly, catching Justins attention.
Fuck them all.
Havent you done that already? Justin asks, slicking the condom
on himself and licking a finger.
Brian snorts a laugh that turns into a grunt when Justin probes him, stretching
and lubing the tight muscles, and then Justin stands on tiptoe and guides himself
toward Brians opening. They take deep breaths in unison when Justin slides
in. Even on tiptoe, hes not tall enough to rest his chin on Brians
shoulder, so Justin leans his forehead against Brians back and concentrates
on finding a rhythm that wont make him come in two seconds.
Hes conscious of eyes on them from all corners and resents the intrusion,
wants to scream at all of them to fuck off and mind their own fucking business,
but Justin guesses that if Brian can act like he doesnt care, then he
can too. So he closes his eyes and melts into Brian, listens to Brians
harsh breathing under the dim lights, feels his muscles bunch and relax under
his shirt, and Justin thinks that the words I love you wouldnt
ever come close to this.
To Justins credit, he lasts for close to five minutes before feeling his
balls tighten and he knows its done. Reaching quickly around, he puts
his own hand on top of Brians, and as Justins orgasm makes him gasp
and shudder, he can feel Brian stroking himself to completion too.
If they were at home, Justin knows Brian would let him lie against him for as
long as he needed to recover. Justin would lounge, sleepy and sated, against
Brians chest while Brian lit a cigarette and make dry comments about Justins
technique, and then they would sleep.
But theyre not at home.
So Justin pulls out quickly and discards the condom, cleaning himself up as
best he can with the tissues from the box on the bench while Brian does the
same. Brian finishes first and leans against the wall until Justin is ready.
Lets go, Justin mutters, uncomfortable with the stares and
whispers.
Not yet, Brian says casually, and pushes off from the wall. He takes
the front of Justins hoodie in two hands and pulls Justin toward him,
kissing him well and thoroughly and not stopping until Justin is breathing hard
and his cock is stirring again.
Whats that for, Justin gasps.
Them. Brian tilts his head toward the staring crowd. And you.
Tomorrow youll have every guy in this place begging for you to fuck him.
Justin grins and threads his fingers through Brians as they walk toward
the door. I only want one guy to beg.
Youll be old and gray before that happens, Sunshine.
Ill still be younger than you, Justin says happily, and Brian
drops Justins hand to sling an arm around his neck.
* * *
Brian catches him throwing the bottle of baby oil away the next day.
What the hell am I going to use to jerk off with? Brian demands,
watching him pour the oil down the sink.
Soap, Justin answers, not bothered by Brians blustering. Lube.
Shaving foam. I dont care.
Shaving foam.
Just a suggestion, Justin shrugs, and shrieks when Brian grabs him
around the waist and wrestles him to the floor.
I do not use shaving foam for anything other than shaving. Brian
sits atop him, straddling his legs.
Were not using baby oil, Justin informs him. It causes
latex to break down. Did you know that?
Yes, Justin, Brian sighs. I knew that.
~End