Brian looked around and sighed. He couldn't believe how low he'd sunk. He was actually in a Bed Bath & Beyond. He and Justin had spent the previous afternoon looking at apartments. Justin had constrained their search substantially by informing Brian in no uncertain terms that the rent could be no more than $1500, preferably less.

That would have been fine if Brian could be content living in an apartment complex or a regular apartment building, but he wanted to find another loft. They had eventually located one (and fast), thanks to Brian's realtor, who was understandably shocked by Brian's apparent loss of taste. But it was definitely a fixer-upper. The floor was bare concrete, two of the three windows were boarded up, and the shower/tub contraption was way too small and ordinary.

Fortunately, all that could be changed, and the building itself was interesting. It was an old sugar factory. It looked like a huge cube except that on the right third of the building, two floors rose above the rest. Each of the normal floors housed three apartments, but each of the two smaller floors housed only one. They had rented the apartment on the topmost floor, which included a black steel circular staircase to the roof, giving them sole access. Justin had agreed to their being a little more free with money when it came to refurbishing the apartment, but not as free as Brian had been with his loft.

Now Brian and Justin were shopping for housewares. Justin had just picked out dinnerware, 8 fiesta plates and matching bowls and cups, one each of chartreuse, pearl gray, sunflower, plum, tangerine, scarlet, peacock, and sea mist. If this were any indication, their new apartment was going to be very colorful.

"What do you think?" Justin asked nervously.

Brian smirked. "Well…they're certainly out and proud."

"You hate them, don't you?"

Brian didn't answer right away. He looked around, his gaze falling on a straight couple, the man staring into space, a bored look on his face, while the woman, oblivious to her partner's lack of interest, chattered about butter dishes and then on a couple of Stepford fags debating the merits of various skillets with equal enthusiasm. The "old Brian" would have said something like "They're fucking plates. Who cares?" The new Brian was no more interested in dishes than the old Brian, but…Justin cared, and he cared about Justin. Justin wanted their new place to be a reflection of both of them, wanted them to make a home together (at that, Brian's stomach turned a little), so Brian'd have to figure out how to do that without losing all respect for himself. Aha! He had the perfect solution.

He came up behind Justin, rested his head on Justin's shoulder, and slid his hands into Justin's jeans.

Justin exclaimed, "Brian!"

"What? If you want me to do the "domestic thing," you're going to have to "endure" some inappropriate fondling. In fact, depending how crazy this gets, you may need to come across with a lot more."

Brian grabbed Justin's shaft firmly, which was now already half-erect, and started sliding his hand up and down along it. Justin leaned his head back on Brian's shoulder and moaned softly.

Then he breathed, "Mmm…okay."

Brian grinned. "I actually like the idea of rainbow dishes, but we'll need dildos to match."

Justin giggled. "You planning to fuck me with a variety of dildos at dinner parties?"

"Not a bad idea, Kitten. We could offer our guests dinner and a show…"

Brian had continued to jerk Justin off as they chatted. Justin's breathing was now ragged, and his face flushed. Suddenly, Brian quickened the pace, eliciting a loud moan from Justin. In response, the Stepford fags pointed and laughed, and the straight couple made a hasty retreat, but not before the woman had cried out, "You should be ashamed!"

Justin paled, but Brian just chuckled. Then he whispered, "Shall we go look at towels next? I'm thinking red..."

Despite his mortification, Justin cracked a smile.