The Baths

Author's note: For those few readers who haven't memorized every bit of dialogue in the show, it might be a good idea to watch the opening scene of #120 - "The King of Babylon" episode.


Saturday Night at The Entrance to the Baths . . .

Brian shoved the towels into Justin's chest and waved the key in his face.

"C'mon Sunshine, this is the moment you've been waiting for."

His voice was filled with a whole lot of tease and glee.

Justin didn't move.

He blamed his current state of indecision on Ted and Michael. When they had found out that Brian had finally agreed to take him to the baths, they made it their mission to tell him every fucking story they had ever heard about the place.

This had gone on for the past seven days.

Some of the stories were funny as shit like the one about the four goats. Others were simply unbelievable like the one about the parachutists. A few had been too scary for words like the one about the rats and the injuries they inflicted during an all-night orgy. Over the past week, Justin's initial excitement had slowly turned to apprehension.

And the cherry on top had just been served by Stan the cashier.

Noting all the motorcycles in the parking lot, Brian had asked if a gay biker club was in town.

"Nah, it's just the Hookys' quarterly field trip." The Hookys were some of The Meathook's most venerable members.



"You sure about this?"

Gathering his fake bravado tightly around him, Justin marched right past Brian and pushed through the swinging metal doors. He came to an abrupt halt. It was dark, and there was a smell.

The doors swung back and hit him squarely on the ass, causing him to jump from the unexpected contact. Seconds later, Brian pushed him out of the way.

"Did you forget the rule?" Brian was angry.

He had set only one rule for Justin, ‘to stay close to him at all times', and the twat had managed to break it in the first five minutes.

"Sorry. Brian? It smells in here." Compared to this place, the backroom at Babylon was Betty Crocker's kitchen.

Brian didn't say anything.

But Justin could just imagine what he thinking.

Probably something along the lines of: ‘Yeah, you twat, it fucking smells. What the fuck did you expect, dozens of guys sweating, coming, peeing, old crappy building, mildew and god-knows-what-else growing since day one, bathrooms overflowing, a for-shit ventilation system, scat queens, and did I mention the rats . . . yeah, it fuckin' smells.'

"It's your call Justin."

Justin stood quietly. He had begged Brian to take him here for weeks. Now he was here, and he was acting like a twat.

"I wanna do this."

Brian cuffed him lightly on the head. "Don't fucking leave my side again."

He put his arm around Justin's shoulders and steered him down the dark hallway.


Their Private Room . . .

Justin was flopped out on the small twin bed.

"Wake up sleeping beauty. Your night awaits." Brian tugged his toe.

Justin stretched and smiled sleepily. That had been one hell of a blow job. It had knocked his ass out. Brian was good, but something else had been going on. Maybe it was this creepy little room. Plastic mattress, bare walls, small lamp. Or maybe it was the smell that clung to everything. Whatever it was, he'd been very fucking turned on during the whole thing.

Justin sat up, and the room was filled with the unmistakable sound of flesh coming unstuck from hot, sticky plastic. Brian thought about the first time he had ever heard that sound.

It had been on the night of his sixteenth birthday. After cake and ice cream at Deb's, he had hitched a ride here. He had been alone, and he was lucky he emerged with nothing more than a few scrapes and a sore ass.

"Would it kill them to have sheets?" Justin complained as he slowly got to his feet.

It was a silly question. The fags would come with or without sheets. So why spend the money?

Brian wiped himself down with a towel and looked over at Justin.

"Stay close to me. Understand?"

Justin nodded.

"Speak to me, Justin."

"Yes, Brian, I understand."

Satisfied, Brian switched gears.

"Remember that scene we talked about?"

"Which one?" Justin had lost count.

"Me fucking you while some guy sucks you off?"

Oh. That one.

Justin had been worried about that one and others all week. His experience with public sex was limited. He'd been in Babylon's backroom a handful of times and then, only with Brian. At Justin's insistence, they usually did it in a relatively private corner.

When he originally asked Brian to take him to the baths he knew that it would be a whole other world. One teeming with naked men. A world whose atmosphere was highly charged and whose culture was anything-goes.

Justin had no problem with this. In his daydreams he imagined that he and Brian would have sex like they did in the backroom. It would be exclusive with perhaps a few voyeurs.

But after Brian agreed to take him, it became clear that he had other ideas - lots of them. Initially, Justin had been receptive to some of Brian's suggestions. But after listening to Ted and Michael's fairy tales all week, he was a little freaked out.  Last night, he had confessed to some of his fears.

He told Brian that he imagined the baths to be like some ancient gladiator pit complete with cheering crowds and hungry lions.

"That's not far off," Brian replied. Not exactly the confidence booster Justin had been hoping for.

Now, as they stood in the dim light, Brian leaned in to touch foreheads. Kinney-comfort.

"Don't worry, Justin. No one here is going anywhere near your ass. That's reserved for me. I promise I'll pick a really hot guy with a very talented mouth."

Justin wrapped his arms around Brian and layed on his best Seduction-Twink-Purr.

"Why don't we just stay here and fuck?"

"Why don't I just take you home to your mom?"

"Fuck you Brian." He pushed away and walked toward the bed. He hadn't gone two steps before he was reeled back in.

Brian turned him forcibly so that they faced each other.

"Do you want to go home?"

Justin thought about it. Thought hard. He made his decision.

Fuck Ted and fuck Michael. They were nothing but a pair of pathetic queens who had nothing better to do than sit around and listen to idle gossip. They had probably made half the shit up themselves.

"No. I want to stay."

"Good boy." Brian kissed him and felt Justin go slack in his arms. They stayed that way for a while. When they finally broke, they were both hard again.



"Now put your game face on, and let's go have some fun."

Justin looked at the closed door, then looked back at Brian. It hadn't been so bad on the way in; he'd been clothed. "I'm gonna kill Ted and Michael the next time I see them. Justin. Listen. Anytime you want to stop. We stop. It's as simple as that. Nothing's gonna happen. You're with me."

Brian pulled him close and kissed him again. The kid was definitely high maintenance.


Into The Baths . . .

They stepped into the corridor - arms around each other. There were men everywhere. Lounging against the walls, lurking in recessed spaces, half-hidden in shadowed rooms. They reminded Justin of sharks. Predators cruising murky waters playfully bumping their prey before attacking.

As they slid through the sea of men, Justin felt their hands on him. Grabbing for whatever part of his body they could reach. Some were more insistent than others. He drew closer to Brian even as his dick grew harder.

He glanced up and saw that Brian had a slight smile on his lips. The man was enjoying himself. The attention, the invitations, the caresses. Brian's evident pleasure in all this helped to put Justin a little bit more at ease.

Guiding them through the last of the gauntlet, Brian led them into the main room. It was humid, dank and foggy. The smell was strongest here. They had been in the building for over an hour now, and Justin was used to it. In fact, he no longer found it unpleasant.

"Welcome to the baths." Brian gestured grandly.

Justin stared.

Men. Naked, leather bound, hairy, smooth, sandwiched, crawling, groping, on the floor, against the walls, twosomes, threesomes, foursomes, piles. On their backs, on their stomachs, upside down, split open, split wide. Moaning in pleasure, moaning in pain. Like Twister on acid. All of them wet. From sweat, from saliva, from come, from the fountains on the other side. And the positions. Some he had tried. Some he had seen on porn tapes. Others he had only heard about. Some he didn't understand.

He turned his head sideways in an attempt to decipher the tangles.

Lust stirred in his belly.

Brian walked them over to the far wall and propped himself up against the tile, hugging Justin to his chest, so that they both could enjoy the view. He reached down and lazily fondled Justin's balls.

More than a few of the men had noticed them when they came in. Now, some broke off from their various couplings and walked over to stand close. Brian continued to slowly stroke Justin's genitals.

One of the men was a tall Puerto Rican gym bunny named Kiko. And Brian had recently been on the receiving end of one of his fabulous blowjobs. Brian made eye contact with him and nodded slightly. Kiko stepped out of the crowd and put his hand on Justin's chest. The boy shivered.

Brian held him a little tighter and looked over at the rest of the men.

"Fuck off."

And they did fuck off.

"Hey Brian, whatcha got there?"

"What's it look like?"

"You sharing?"

"Hmm, I have to admit, I am feeling a bit generous."

Kiko slid his hand to the right and pinched Justin's left nipple.

Justin let out a little squeak. "Brian?"

"Sshh." Brian kissed him on the cheek.

Kiko and Brian exchanged smiles. The stranger dropped to the floor and waited for Brian to let go of the kid's cock.

"That's a real beauty."

"Ain't it though."

"Nothing like young cock."

Justin could feel the stranger's breath on his dick. Could feel his large hands as they moved up and down his thighs. He broke out in gooseflesh.

And then his dick was surrounded by a hot, wet mouth, and he slumped back into Brian's arms.

"Nice, huh?" Brian's voice rasped in his ear.

"We're not gonna fuck here?" A breathless, ragged plea. "No, not here."


The man looked up - Justin's cock buried in his mouth.

"Are those soccer players here tonight?"

Kiko grinned around the boy's shaft then released it.

"You mean those two blonds? From Finland?"

"They're Swedish. They're here on scholarship."

Justin almost laughed. Swedish soccer stars on scholarships.

"Yeah, they're here."

"Go get them. Tell them Brian Kinney is requesting the pleasure of their company."

Kiko stood, grinning wider.

"You got it." The Latino left on his errand.

"You're gonna love these two Justin. Trust me."

They didn't have long to wait. Kiko soon returned with the two blonds in tow.

They looked like they had been interrupted but didn't seem too put out.

"Brian!" In stereo. Big grins on their faces.

"Hello boys. I need a hand with something."

"Anything for you man."

"Fellas, it's his first time here." Brian needlessly pointed to Justin. "And, I'd like to give him a royal welcome."

Enthusiasm all around.

"Oh yah, Brian."

"We still talkin' ‘bout da last time."

"Hey Brian, dat's a real young twin."

"They tell us you no go for twins."

"How you get him past Stan?"

Justin found the Swedes highly amusing. The funny thing was that Brian actually did go for ‘twins'. And now, obviously, for ‘twinks' as well.

Brian disregarded all their questions.

"Let's establish a few rules. First off, he's mine. No one touches him unless I say so. And only how I say so. Second, you protect him. Got it?"

Their eyes swept over Justin's body and lingered on his sizable dick.

"Got it??"

"Yah Brian, we know."

"Yah, we know how to play."

"Yeah, I know you know how to play. But this is my game, my rules."

"Yah, yah, no problem."

"You da boss."

Brian looked over at Kiko who hadn't answered.

"It's your show brother."

Satisfied they all understood the rules, Brian leaned down and whispered into Justin's ear.

"Last chance."

In response, Justin pushed himself out of Brian's arms and took a small step forward. Stood there all cock and swagger.

"Ok, soccer boys." Brian motioned for them to do their thing.

Apparently, the two blonds knew the drill. They flanked Justin and waited for Brian to place each one of Justin's arms around their necks. That done, they reached down and hoisted him into the air by hooking their forearms under the back of his thighs. Justin sat between the two Swedes. A boy king on a throne. Though no king would have been quite so naked nor have his legs spread quite so wide. He was magnificent.

Justin's breaths came a little faster as he noticed that most of the men in the room had turned to look at him. For a moment, he panicked. Brian saw the look on his face and nodded to the Swedes. They lowered Justin a bit so that Brian could whisper into the boy's ear. No one heard what he said, but when he stepped back, Justin was grinning.

Brian gave the word, "To the mirror room boys."

The Swedes took off, and Brian and Kiko followed close behind.

Justin looked back once, and Brian winked.

Justin winked back. He was getting into it.

As their little procession wound its way through the throng of men, Justin heard someone call out.

"Hey Kinney, let us have a go when you're done."

The voice belonged to a beefy, burly bear named Beau that Brian had fucked years before.

Brian didn't answer. Just kept walking.

"Is that a no?"

"Beau . . . that's a hell no."

Sustained boos and laughter followed them as they left the room.

The Swedes walked down the hall joking that Justin was heavier than he looked. Justin told them it was all in his dick.

The Swedes laughed approvingly. "Yah, boy. But don't forget dat ass."

They turned a corner and pulled up short. The hall was filled with a knot of leather-clad guys that were blocking the way. Hookys. Cat calls and whistles flew when they spotted Justin.

"Now that's what I call room service!"

"Check out the cock on the kid!"

"Dinner time!"

"Man, I could eat chicken every day!"  A big bearded guy made a grab for one of Justin's ankles, and the nearest Swede knocked his hand aside.

"Get back. Dis Brian Kinney's boy."

The bears just laughed.

"We don't see Kinney."

At that moment, Brian stepped in front of the Swedes.

Justin later swore that he had timed his entrance.

"Evening, gentlemen."

A mixed reception.

"There's Kinney!" A bear in the front.

"Asshole!" A bear in the back.

"Hey stud!" A bear on the side.

"Fuck you!" A bear hidden behind another bear.

"Boys, we'd love to stay and chat, but we have a party to attend."

He walked into the crowd, parting it as he went. Moses would have been proud.

Kiko brought up the rear. Good duty, that.

They finally reached their objective and walked into what Justin supposed was the mirror room. The fact that the walls and ceiling were mirrored was a big clue. It wasn't a large room, but it didn't need to be. The mirrors added dimension upon dimension.

There were four men in the room. Two Hookys and two twinks.

Brian spoke. "Private party. Get the fuck out."

And they did get the fuck out.

Kiko shut the door and locked it, and the Swedes waited for Brian's instructions. This could go a couple of different ways.

Justin could see Brian's multiple reflections everywhere he looked. There were too many to count. Christmas had come early.

Brian broke the silence, "Bring me the box."

Justin watched as Kiko placed a plywood box, about six inches high, at Brian's feet. The Swedes adjusted their forearms to ensure that Brian had the right angle and height for a smooth entry.

Being the nice guys that they were, they also took hold of Justin's hands to provide him with the extra support he would need. They had seen Brian in action and knew that the boy was in for one, long ride.

Kiko dragged a chair over and sat down in front of the twink.

Modesty mostly forgotten, Justin watched all this with mounting lust. Brian was preparing to fuck him. He no longer cared that Kiko and the Swedes were part of it. He liked them now. They had protected him, and besides, they were fucking hot.

He saw Brian step onto the box.

Soon, soon, it would be soon.

Brian spoke. "Suck him, but don't let him come."

Kiko nodded - a sly smile in place. He knew what to do.

Justin heard the familiar tear of the condom wrapper.

He felt the familiar fingers and closed his eyes.

He heard the familiar voice. "Ready or not, here I come."

Brian entered him.

Justin moaned long and low. It was good. So good. He fucking loved it. All of it. The pain and the pleasure. He wanted it forever. With Brian. Only with Brian.

Justin opened his eyes. Brian was watching him. Only him. He smiled at Justin and changed his fuck angle making sure to hit the boy's sweet spot dead center. Justin's eyes and mouth gaped wide, and Brian grinned.

"You awake now?" He nuzzled these words through a laugh.

Brian changed angles again. "Sorry, you'll get more later. I don't want you to come yet. I want you to look at yourself."

Justin looked at himself for the first time. Saw what Brian saw. He almost didn't recognize the image. He had never seen himself like this. He looked like an offering. Arms and legs splayed wide; body rocking in time to Brian's thrusts. His normally pale body flushed red; his blond hair dark with sweat. And in between his legs, a brown-skinned man fed deep.

He realized the grunts he'd been hearing all along were his own. He closed his eyes.

Years passed, seconds passed, time stood still.

Justin opened his eyes. Brian's eyes were on his face. Always on his face. Brian was fucking him. Fucking him as he hung between the Swedes. Fucking him as Kiko worked his island magic. Fucking him. Fucking him. Ah God . . . fucking him. He never wanted it to end.

Years passed, seconds passed, time stood still.

He heard Brian's voice close to his ear.

"Open your eyes. Look at yourself. You're beautiful. All those men out there want you. They want to be you. They want to be me so they can fuck you. They'll dream about you tonight. Tonight, you were their king."

Justin's final inhibitions fell away.

He opened his eyes and looked at himself again. He was beautiful. He was perfection. He was sublime. Perched high above his subjects. In command of his kingdom. Tonight he had an international court. The mirror didn't lie.

And he was being fucked by the fairest of them all. He wasn't just being fucked by Brian; he was going home with him. Had gone home with him for months now. None of these men could say that. He felt powerful. Super human. His cock grew harder, and Kiko moaned in appreciation.

Years passed, seconds passed, time stood still.

From far away, Justin heard a voice.

"Ready Sunshine?"

Justin couldn't answer. He wasn't in the room with them anymore. He was gone.

In the distance, Brian again.

"Kiko, let's make him come."

And they did.


After what Justin was to fondly remember as the "Swedish Rican Mirror Party", the boys prepared to take their leave of the three companions.

On his way out, Justin sweetly informed the Swedes that he was a ‘twink,' not a ‘twin'.

They were confused by this, and Justin patiently explained the difference. They finally got it but then swore up and down that he should also be a ‘twin.'

"Yah, we want one of you too!"

Justin blushed at the compliment and allowed Kiko to kiss his hand goodbye.

Brian finally lost his patience with all the niceties, and pulled Justin out the door, sniping as he went, "C'mon your majesty. It's time for a private audience."

They returned to their room where they fucked the night away. Brian was insatiable and fucked Justin into the mattress. Literally. At one point during the night, the bed collapsed.

Justin lost count of how many times he came. It was a shame really, considering he achieved a personal best.


Back at The Loft . . .

They stumbled in sometime after dawn. Justin was in a state. He was mentally and physically exhausted. The past week had been fraught with nervous anticipation and some genuine fear. Last night he had experienced a gamut of emotions he had never known before. Wild elation chief among them.

The non-stop fucking had worn him out. Brian had lived up to his name - his status as legendary stud was secure.

He tried to get into bed without showering, but Brian would have none of it.

"I'm fucking exhausted. Leave me alone." Brian dodged a half-hearted swipe and trapped Justin's arms to pull him into the bathroom.

"Cleanliness is next to godliness, Sunshine." Brian's silly voice.

Normally, Justin would have come back with a searing retort. Now, he had barely enough strength to stand upright while Brian stripped him.

Brian pushed him into the shower and told him to stand in the corner until the water was ready. Miserable, Justin buried his face in his hands, but did what he was told.

"You are such a little princess," Brian taunted gently.

When the temperature was to his liking, Brian pulled Justin under the shower spray and started scrubbing him with some of the expensive French shit and one of the goddamn sea sponges.

He scrubbed him from head to toe. And then he did it again.

Justin finally pulled away in frustration. "I'm fucking clean. Let me go to bed."

Brian paid him no mind and continued his careful cleaning.

When he was satisfied that the job was done, he turned the sponge on himself and bathed quickly.

Justin watched him through sleepy, sulky eyes - his head under the hot, hot water.

Later, as they lay under the thick duvet, Brian pulled him close and kissed the top of his damp head.

"So, was it everything you hoped for? Everything you dreamed?"

No answer.

Brian shook him a little.

"C'mon your highness. Spare us commoners a word."

"S'allright." A slurred mumble into the pillow. A missed kick to Brian's shin.

Brian smiled. The boy was becoming fluent in KinneySpeak.

The rave review meant they'd be back before next week was out.


Tuesday Night at Woody's . . .

Ted and Michael sat at the bar nursing their drinks. It was early, and they were waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive. A group of noisy, excited guys parked themselves close by, and Michael and Ted stopped talking to eavesdrop. It sounded like some good dish.

"I heard he single-handedly took on, like, six bears from The Meat Hook."

"No, no, no. There were six Scandinavians and two Peruvians with him."

"No, you're both wrong. It was Brian Kinney, these two Siamese guys, and a Portugese guy that beat up five bears." The redhead doing the talking ticked off the number of men involved on his fingers as he spoke.

"Siamese? That's only for twins, dude. Siam doesn't even exist anymore."

"What about the King and I? He was from Siam."

At this, one of the fags "ooh-ooh-oohed" and jumped up and down.

"That's why they were fighting!"

"Over Siam?"

"No, over a king!"

"Yeah, that's right. Kinney was with a twink that turned out to be some kind of visiting royalty."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Sven the Swede."

"Leave it to fucking Kinney to fuck a king right here in Pittsburgh."

They became quiet as they pondered life's many injustices.

"Hey, you fucked a king. That Angel Esca-something guy with the funny birthmark? The King of Babylon last year? Remember?"

"Yeah, he was a good fuck."

"Whatever happened to him?"

"He moved to California. I think he hooked up with an accountant. Heard the guy wasn't that hot, but he was smart, and Angel always preferred brains over . . ."

He stopped talking and turned to stare at Ted. They all turned to stare at Ted. The man was slowly and methodically beating his head against the bar.

Michael rubbed his back and made all the appropriate, sympathetic noises.

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