Disclaimer: Queer as Folk doesn't belong to me; it belongs to Russell T Davies (fellow Welshman! Woop!)
Brian and Justin don't belong to me; they belong to Cowlip! And;
This fic doesn't really belong to me either. The idea and inspiration for it belong ENTIRELY to VAmpireAcadamy6.
What if Mel and Lindsey hadn't walked in on that scene when Justin is dancing on the table for Brian after getting a job as a go-go boy…
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"You like it?" Brian chuckled, his hand landing firmly on Justin's ass again.
"Don't hurt me too bad," Justin said, playing along.
Brian just smiled and pushed the kid off him so he landed in a heap on the floor.
"What; that's it?" Justin moaned, trying to twist his back enough so he could inspect his backside. "You didn't even hurt me," he informed the older man smugly.
Brian didn't say anything, he just leant across and grabbed one of the boxes of food, picking from it idly. He was full but he had to do something to force his attention away from the fact Justin was now stood in front of his floor length mirror inspecting his own ass carefully.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Brian asked, putting down one box of food and picking up another. In fact, he was just doing anything as long as it didn't involve watching Justin prodding his own butt cheek with a finger.
"It didn't work," the younger man said pointedly. And, with an air of disappointment, he added, "you haven't left a mark."
"It wasn't meant to leave a mark, it's not a branding iron. It was meant to teach you a lesson," Brian did look at the kid then and Justin spotted the older man's smirk in the reflection of the mirror as he added, "and make you hard." Brian angled his smug gaze to Justin's crotch, "so don't tell me it didn't work."
Justin smiled, a half-coy, half-predatory smile, as he moved slowly towards Brian. Brian felt the food box being plucked from his fingers and placed on the table. He watched all the movements. They were slow and deliberate and so fucking sexy. Then, his eyes met blue ones, as Justin lowered himself onto Brian's jean-covered thighs. The twink didn't say a word, he just leant forward, pushing Brian against the back of the sofa and then pressed a line of silk-soft kisses, from Brian's lips down his cheek, chin, neck and to his throat.
When he reached the collar of Brian's shirt, Justin's lips began to move upwards again. Kisses to his jaw, the side his face, a nip to his earlobe and then, like a wet explosion in his ear,
"do you like it?"
"Like what?" Brian asked, partly because he wanted to be difficult and partly because he wasn't entirely sure what Justin was referring to.
"Kink," the kid explained, his mouth working the skin behind Brian's ear before travelling tantalizingly slowly back to his neck.
"Depends what kind," the older man answered truthfully. And then, too truthfully, he added, "I'm not into scat."
"Brian," the kid whinged, pushing himself away so that they were an arms length apart.
"What?" The older man gave a butter-wouldn't-melt smile.
"That's disgusting."
"That's kink."
"Disgusting kink," Justin corrected, putting his hands under the hem of Brian's shirt and running them over the ripples of his muscles. He pushed his hands upwards until Brian was forced to lift his arms. Justin pulled the garment over the older man's head and let it fall somewhere behind him, before exploring the newly exposed skin with his tongue and teeth.
"What did you have in mind?" Brian gasped out, as Justin worked his way, with expert knowledge, through all of Brian's most sensitive areas.
"Dunno," Justin admitted, "ropes?"
"You want me to tie you up?" J
ustin didn't have to look up to know that Brian's eyebrow was raised and there was a look of bemused self-satisfaction spreading like a disease across his face.
"Maybe," the twink said, tongue darting out to lick a long line from Brian's belly button up to his nipples.
"Tie you to the bed and pound you into the mattress?" Brian clarified.
"Please," the plea was so quiet it was barely a whisper but Justin couldn't hide the desperation in his voice.
"Anything else?" Brian questioned again, flipping their positions suddenly so that Justin was led out on the sofa and Brian was on top of him. Justin couldn't help feel the older man looked and sounded unnervingly calm and calculated, like a lion taunting the deer it's about to devour.
"I dunno," Justin squirmed, as Brian pressed kisses all over his body. "What else is there?"
"Paddles," Brian said between kisses. "Harnesses … whips … handcuffs," each word punctuated with a kiss, and then, "role play."
"Mmmm," Justin let out a long guttural moan. "Role play," he repeated. "Maybe I could play the innocent school boy and you could play ..." but Brian's part in the play was lost in a kiss so animalistic Justin didn't think it would be weird too roar after it. He didn't though. It might not have been out of place but he wouldn't have lived it down for a long time.
"Maybe we'll just stick to the ropes," Brian suggested, when he finally drew back, allowing Justin to breath again.
Justin nodded eagerly, craning his neck upwards as he tried to start the kiss again. But Brian held him down as he got to his own feet. He pinned the twink there for a second and then he yanked Justin up, twisting an arm behind his back and frogmarching him to the bedroom.
"Ah," Justin hissed, as Brian threw him unceremoniously onto the bed. "Careful."
But careful seemed to have disappeared now. Brian was pulling a couple of old ties from his wardrobe and flicking them so they made a delicious cracking-whip noise in mid-air. Then he took one of Justin's arms and bound it deftly to the side of the bed like a pro before moving onto the other. Then he stared carefully, waiting for the silent confirmation that the ties weren't too tight. Justin just smiled.
Brian stripped off and then knelt above the younger man. Justin was helpless under the feel of Brian. His poise, his smell, his looks, it was overwhelming and all Justin could do was writhe beneath him.
"Okay?" he asked seriously.
"Uh-huh," Justin nodded. He was flushed and excited. It was written all over him.
Brian just nodded before leaning in close. "You don't do this kind of thing with anyone else, got it?"
Justin frowned. He knew they were keeping kissing as a thing just between them but why keep kink as well? Brian seemed to read the question in the expression so, as he reached for a condom, he explained,
"Tricks don't care if they hurt you, they're just in it for their own pleasure. They don't give a shit about you," then he leant really close, his voice low, as though he were telling an unspoken secret, "I do."