The End of the Line

~ 7:00 p.m., Pappagano’s Restaurant ~

Brian pulled his ringing cell phone from his pocket, happy for the interruption. This had to be the most boring dinner meeting in history. He glanced at the caller ID and was surprised to see Justin’s number. It must be important if he was calling. Brian apologized to Vance and the client, insisting he had to take the call and stepped away from the table.

"Hel--"

"Next time I see you I’m going to rip off your clothes and make you sit on my cock. I know you love my cock in your ass."

Brian’s dick was hard as soon as the kid started talking. Jesus Christ. How the fuck was he going to get through the rest of dinner? And what in the hell was Justin up to?

He was going to kill the little shit.

"That’d be good, wouldn’t it?" the teen asked.

"Fuck--" Brian sputtered. Yeah, that’d be good. Regardless of his anger, his body was reacting to his pure desire for this kid. Even after everything that happened.

"Yeah? I’m gonna do it then," Justin replied before disconnecting.

Brian stared at the phone. What the fuck was that? They’d been tap dancing around each other for months, since the Rage party and Justin’s failed romance with the fiddler, and now Justin wanted to start playing games again?

The kid was so dead.

As soon as Brian could get his hands on the teen, he was going to whip that ass raw before fucking him to death.

The executive willed his erection down and carefully returned to the table. He would finish his dinner, then find the twink.

 

***
 

THE OTHER END OF THE LINE…

~7:02 p.m. Liberty Diner~

Justin counted to three and the phone in his hand rang on cue. "I was just kidding, Em."

"What?"

Justin laughed. "Gotcha! But I’m not going to really do it."

"Do what?"

"Call Brian," the teen replied a little exasperated. Sometimes Emmett pretended to be dumb a little too convincingly.

Emmett’s excited giggle floated over the line. "Oh, but I still think you should. Go ahead and practice on me."

Justin snickered. "I don’t need more practice, I heard you panting before. And this isn’t a 900 number, you perv."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I called you, remember?" the teen replied sarcastically.

"Baby, you didn’t call me. I called you."

Justin’s stomach fluttered. "No, before you called me, I called you," he insisted.

"No, you didn’t…um, look at the display. What number am I calling from?"

The teen slowly lowered the phone and looked at the caller ID.

Oh.shit.

It was Brian’s number.

Emmett was calling from Brian’s phone.

"Emmett! Why do you have Brian’s phone?" he shouted.

"We must’ve switched phones at lunch. I just got one like his and Brian was showing me how to…"

Justin didn’t hear anything else. One thought kept repeating in his mind: Brian had Emmett’s phone.

"Justin? Baby, are you there?"

"I CALLED BRIAN!!"

 

***
 

THE BEGINNING OF THE LINE…

~ 1:00 p.m., Liberty Diner ~

Justin collapsed into the booth next to Emmett as he watched Brian and Michael leave the diner. It had been the longest lunch rush he could ever remember.

"Why don’t you two just fuck and get it over with."

Justin sighed. They’d had this discussion a hundred times since Justin realized what a mistake he’d made leaving Brian for Ethan. "Em--"

"Just call him up and say, ‘Hey stud, I want your hot hard cock right now’."

Justin just shook his head, though he couldn’t hide his smile. He wished it would be that easy.

"That wouldn’t work with Brian," Ted interjected. "It has to be more like ‘I’m going to rip off your clothes and make you sit on my nine inch dick’."

Justin gaped at Ted while Emmett laughed. "Right, that’s better. Come on, baby, practice makes perfect. Let’s hear it."

Justin rolled his eyes. "No."

"But--"

"No!"

 

***

 

~ 9:00 p.m., Woody’s Bar ~

Justin was pounding shots as fast as the bartender could pour them.

Brian was going to fucking kill him.

After he figured out what happened he was going to call Brian back, but Emmett told him Brian was in a dinner meeting. He interrupted a meeting with a client.

Oh, yeah, Brian was going to fuck him alright. And without lube.

Shit.

Then he felt the hand on his neck and knew it was Brian before he said, "I have a better idea, Sunshine. I’m going to rip off your clothes and make you sit on my dick."

 

***
 

Justin drifted peacefully, languidly floating on the sensations washing over him. Warm hands and soft lips were caressing his body, slowly setting fire to every inch of flesh.

He loved these dreams. They were so vivid. In fucking technicolor. He could see the blue sheets beneath him. He could hear Brian breathing in his ear, smell his skin, feel him spreading his thighs.

He realized he wasn’t dreaming when Brian pushed into him again. His asshole was open and slick, eagerly accepting the intrusion. Again. Memories of the night before flooded his mind.

How long had he been asleep? It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since the last time they fucked. How many times had they fucked since Brian found him? He lost count and he was sore. But if he was sore, Brian had to be raw.

Then the combined pleasure of the memories and Brian moving inside him swept him away again and nothing hurt. Nothing else mattered.

When Justin began thrusting back, Brian heard him moan as his cock rubbed against the sheets. The teen moved more urgently, trying to get himself off, but Brian wanted more. Justin whimpered when Brian denied him and turned them onto their sides, leaving his cock neglected against his belly.

"Briiiaan," he groaned in frustration when the man pinned his hands to keep him from touching himself. Until the older man lifted Justin’s leg onto his shoulder and slammed into him again. "Yes…ahh…yes…yes…" Justin chanted as Brian continued to work his ass, each pass over his prostate making him squeal louder.

Justin’s hot, tight tunnel was driving him mad, and Brian couldn’t hold back any longer. He grunted as he jabbed the teen’s hole in short deep thrusts, his orgasm tearing through him as he exploded into the condom.

His young lover was still writhing beneath him as he pulled out and rolled him onto his back. He engulfed Justin’s cock in his mouth, stroking up and down quickly, and flicking his tongue over the slit. The teen arched into him, pushing deeper into his throat and came when Brian swallowed around the head of his cock.

 

***
 

The next time Justin woke up, Brian was kissing him good-bye.

"Hey." He blinked tiredly, licking his dry lips.

Brian dipped his head again and rubbed his tongue against Justin’s eliciting a soft moan. "Hey," he replied.

Justin pulled him down. "Don’t go."

"I have a lunch meeting I can’t miss, but I’ll take the afternoon off. Will you still be here?"

The teen’s brow furrowed. "I think so." He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to be doing today. His brain was completely fried.

Brian chuckled. "Call me if anything comes up. Otherwise I’ll see you later."

"’Kay." Justin settled back into the pillows, until he suddenly remembered. "Wait!" He sat up quickly, wincing at the pain in his ass. "Your phone--"

"I know."

"You do?" Did Brian tell him that last night? The early part of the evening was a bit hazy from the shots.

Brian nodded. "Emmett called me after my meeting and explained. We swapped back before I found you. He saved your ass."

Justin was shifting to get comfortable and finally gave up, flopping back against the mattress. "My ass disagrees," he retorted huffily, but his smile betrayed him.


 

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