To end the day's lecture, Brian assigned the next chapter to read and dismissed his class a few minutes early. He was a favorite professor with this class because he never held them the full time. Not on Tuesdays when he had back to back classes all afternoon. He let his last morning class go early enough to give him time to stop in the union and grab a sandwich on his way across campus where he would spend the remainder of the day in the drafty auditorium teaching Business basics to a hundred sleeping freshman.

Brian paid the cashier for his sandwich and a cup of coffee and sat to wait. A few minutes later a boy and girl entered the cafe and walked by to sit at the table across from him. They were in his Wednesday night class and Brian knew the girl always picked that table because she had a crush on him.

"Hi, Professor Kinney," the girl greeted him as they passed.

"Hello, Daphne. Justin," he replied, looking up from the notes he seemed to be engrossed in when they arrived. "How are you today?"

"Good," Daphne smiled.

Brian looked at Justin and frowned when he saw the boy's right hand clenched tightly at his side. "Justin?"

"Fine," the boy answered, but Brian could tell he was having difficulty with the painful spasms curling his fingers.

It was the only remaining side effect of Justin's head injury, but it was also the worst of all the traumatic hurdles the boy had endured. Justin had certainly come a long way since Brian's friend, Ben, introduced them. Six months ago, Justin was bashed after getting caught by some football players when he was giving their quarterback a handjob. The boy missed his high school graduation and would’ve given up on going to college if Ben hadn't spent the summer helping him reevaluate his future plans.

Ben was a guidance counselor at St. James Academy and he took it upon himself to make sure Justin didn't give up on himself when the damage to his hand forced him to relinquish his place in the freshman class at PIFA. Ben helped Justin get late acceptance to the University of Pittsburgh for the fall semester and he introduced Justin to Brian personally since the boy would be a business major. But Brian was hardly interested in getting embroiled with another one of Ben’s hard luck cases at the time, he was one himself then.

Seeing Brian was still looking at his hand, Justin shoved it in his pocket and watched Daphne go to the counter to order her lunch. “It’s nothing,” he huffed. “I just had too much to lug around this morning.”

Brian knew Justin was lying, stubborn twat, but he let it go for the time being. Instead he smirked, “Carrying your little girlfriend’s books again?” He lowered his voice so only Justin could hear him add, “Aren’t you sweet? Good boy.”

Justin’s cheeks flushed slightly and Brian saw his eyes darken several shades as they darted around the bustling room. “Can I come over tonight?” he asked under his breath.

Brian stood, wadding up the cellophane from his sandwich and stuffing it in the empty coffee cup. He deliberately leaned past Justin to gather his notes and briefcase, breathing deeply to inhale the slight scent of talcum powder that still lingered on the boy’s skin.

Brian’s cock stirred as he imagined the boy lying on his bed that morning, legs spread as he sprinkled powder on his shaved genitals to prevent the itching. He knew Justin wished his own hands were Brian’s as he rubbed the talc into his skin. The silky feeling was too hard to resist so he jerked off, listening to his mother banging pots and pans downstairs and yelling his breakfast was getting cold.

“Brian,” Justin prodded, nodding his head slightly toward Daphne who was returning.

Brian slipped the papers into his briefcase. He had to go out with Michael and Ben that night, if he cancelled again they would just come over anyway, but he could spend sometime with Justin before he met them for drinks later. The boy would grow increasingly uncomfortable as the hair grew back if Brian made him wait any more so Brian said yes, his response muffled by the clasps of the briefcase snapping shut before he walked away.

He avoided Daphne as he left, skirting the tables between them with his back to her as he hurried toward the other exit. His dick was hard all the way across campus as he thought about the smooth glide of the razor around Justin’s tight pink hole.

***

Ben first brought Justin to the diner a few months after he’d been bashed. The boy was not only battling the physical damage, but the emotional repercussions as well. He had terrifying nightmares, was afraid of crowds and strangers, and had uncontrollable fits of rage. So besides the counselor his family took him too, Ben tried to spend as much time with him as possible, taking him out for walks and finding other outlets for his creativity. He introduced Justin to Lindsay first because she was a fellow artist and he hoped she could help, but Justin was unwilling to cooperate. His father wanted him to be a business major and without his art he had no excuse not to.

So they caught Brian at the diner one Saturday afternoon when he was on his way to the gym. Brian didn’t appreciate the ambush, he’d already told Ben he couldn’t do anything for the kid but teach him how to maneuver a hostile takeover and from the looks of the boy trembling in the booth, he’d never make it in the mailroom, let alone the boardroom.

“Brian, give the kid a chance, he’s really bright,” Ben tried again.

“How bright can he be if he got caught jerking off the football captain in the equipment room after practice?” Brian sneered.

Ben quickly glanced over his shoulder to make Justin hadn’t heard him. “Brian, that was completely out of line,” he hissed angrily. “Look, he’s--”

“Your problem, not mine,” Brian shot back. That was always Ben’s problem. He wanted to be a teacher to help students and mold their young minds. Brian only became a teacher so he could always be near students and be of the same mind. What better way to always be young and beautiful than to surround yourself with youth and beauty?

But even that couldn’t sustain him forever. As Brian’s thirtieth birthday neared, he was more and more bitterly aware of the gap separating him from the collegiate masses.

“He’s registered for your Admin class,” Ben snapped. “Just keep an eye on him okay? The other students might make him nervous until he gets used to it.”

“Then he shouldn’t be on campus,” Brian reasoned, pushing his sunglasses over his eyes. He didn’t like the way Ben was staring at him, looking for something. “Let the shrinks shrink him a little more first, maybe they can put Humpty Dumpty back together again.”

The words were out before he thought about them, and then the familiar slicing pain cut through his chest.

“Brian--” he heard Ben call after him as he stumbled out the door, but he just waved him off. No one could put him back together again.

When he was out of his friend’s sight, Brian ducked into the nearest alley and pulled a vial out of his pocket. He snorted another bump and let it dislodge the jagged shards of pain stuck in his chest after falling off the damn wall again himself. He shoved the vial back in his pocket and floated out of the alley, the sky swirling around him…

Falling was okay, it was like flying. It was crashing into the dirt that killed you.

***

Justin showed up at Brian’s apartment a week later, two days before the fall semester started. Brian almost didn’t recognize him since he’d been pretty high when they’d met in the diner—hell he wasn’t exactly clean and sober right then either.

That would be his excuse later.

“Mr. Bru—Ben said I could come to you,” Justin said shakily. “If I—I needed anything… and I couldn’t find him.” He tried to stand taller, squaring his shoulders, though the brave front was undermined by the white knuckle grip he had on the doorframe.

Brian rubbed his brow, imagining ripping Ben’s balls off and shoving them down his throat. “Okay, well, you run along home, and I’ll give him a call and tell him you need to talk.”

He started to shut the door, but Justin surprised him, boldly using his shoulder to push it back open. “I can’t go home. That’s the problem.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? How’d you get here? Bus? Taxi? You need more money?” He backed up a few steps, setting his tumbler of whiskey on the table in the entryway and pulling his wallet from the jacket he’d discarded earlier.

But Justin shook his head. “I mean I won’t go home. I’m not going back there.”

Brian dropped his wallet and picked up his glass again. “You’re eighteen right? So don’t,” he shrugged before draining the glass.

Christ, since the kid obviously wasn’t going anywhere, he ushered him in. He’d call Ben and have him come get him. It wasn’t like Ben and Michael’s couch hadn’t been used to put up troubled twinks in the past.

Then he could get back to planning his special private birthday bash.

“They took me to a new shrink again, to make me straight,” Justin said as he looked around the apartment. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Brian paused as he reached for the phone and stared at the kid. Was he always so… open?

Justin shrunk back a little under his gaze, “What?”

Brian blinked and nodded down the hall. “On the right.”

He turned his attention back to the phone and cursed under his breath when he got Ben’s voice mail. Brian left a terse message for Ben to come claim his ward and slammed the phone back down in the cradle as he glanced down the hall when he saw light spill through the doorway. “I said the right!” he yelled, storming after the boy when he realized Justin had gone into the spare bedroom.

Justin froze in the middle of the room when Brian loomed in the doorway. “I-I get mixed up sometimes. I’m sorry.”

But Brian was frozen himself. It was the first time he’d been in the room since Gus died.

When Brian didn’t say anything else, Justin looked around the room more closely. “I didn’t know you had a kid,” he said, taking in the crib and changing table. He picked up a teddy bear and smiled. “I used to have on just like this. I named him Gus.”

Brian’s head snapped up. “His name is Gus,” he replied flatly.

Justin’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s weird--”

Brian shook his head, clarifying to himself, “My son’s name is—was Gus. He died.”

Justin blanched and he dropped the bear. His eyes darted between the bear and Brian as he bent to pick it up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

But Brian picked up the bear, looking at it as if for the first time. “It was a car accident,” he said, feeling odd as the words came from his chest. It didn’t hurt as much to let it out as it did to hold it in. “A mo--six weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin whispered again and this time Brian looked at him.

“Stop saying that,” he replied tiredly. “Sorry’s bullshit. It’s not going to change anything.”

Justin ran his hand over the bookcase, looking at the books and toys jammed on the shelves. “You must’ve loved him very much…do you think you would’ve always loved him? No matter what?” Justin didn’t see the confused look on Brian’s face as he continued to examine the room. He turned to the changing table and picked up the baby wipes and set them back down, then the ointment. “I know my dad used to love me, before he found out I was gay. I mean I don’t remember, but mom says he would stay up with me sometimes at night and rock me, so she could sleep. I guess I was sick a lot. I’m allergic to everything, but they didn’t know that then.” He opened the baby powder, sniffing it. “She says he’s just having a hard time letting go of the dreams he had for me. Like I don’t know what that’s fucking like. What about me?” he suddenly shouted, slamming the powder back on the table. A large puff of white dust shot into the air, covering the area in talc. “Shit! Sorry, I’ll clean it up.” Justin grabbed for the wipes and knocked the powder container on the floor. “Oh god,” he glanced at Brian. “I’m really--”

The boy’s nerves were putting Brian on edge. “Justin, stop,” he ordered, grasping the boy’s wrist.

Justin jerked free. “No! Don’t touch me!”

Brian put his hands up. “Jesus, just relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I-I know,” Justin stammered, wrapping his arms around himself and smearing the powder from his hands onto his clothes.

Brian pulled a wipe from the container and offered it to him. “Here, clean yourself up.” When Justin still hesitated, Brian teased, “They’re hypo-allergenic.”

Justin smiled slightly and accepted it. He awkwardly tried to wipe his left hand with his right, but his apprehensiveness was obviously making his damaged hand spasm.

Brian watched for a moment and then slowly held his hand out. “Let me help.”

“I can do it,” Justin muttered, but Brian took the wipe from him anyway.

“I know you can,” Brian replied, “but why make it harder on yourself if you don’t have to? Give me your hand.”

Justin glared at him for a moment and then tried to shrug like it didn’t matter as he stuck his hand out. Brian ignored the nervous trembling, pretending not to notice. He carefully wiped Justin’s left hand and then let it go and reached for the other one. Justin stiffened, but let him take it. He wiped it too and then continued to hold it as he reached for the lotion.

Brian had watched Justin’s face carefully as he held his curled hand and the boy seemed to relax a little from his touch. And when he relaxed, his fingers uncurled slightly. Brian wondered how far Justin would let him go as he squeezed a little of the lotion onto the back of Justin’s hand. Justin bit his lip, his eyes fixed on Brian’s hand as he gently smoothed the lotion over his skin. Then Brian turned Justin’s hand over and rubbed some of the lotion onto the palm. He spread it out in even strokes to each finger, just to the first knuckle. He wasn’t sure how much flexibility the kid had yet.

“Ben told me you’re gay,” Justin said as Brian continued to massage his hand.

Brian nodded.

“Then how’d you have a baby?”

Brian closed his eyes and paused for a moment, waiting for the sting in his chest to pass.

“I’m sor—I don’t mean to pry.”

Brian shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said, surprising himself. “My friend Lindsay wanted a baby—the artist, you met her.” Before Gus died, when maybe she could’ve helped Justin, but now she couldn’t help herself. Brian noticed Justin looked away but didn’t comment. “So she asked me to donate the sperm,” he continued. “That was supposed to be the end of it. His two mommies raised him, but Linds made me have all this stuff for when he came over sometimes. She wanted him to know me even though I didn’t want to know him.” He smiled ruefully. “Until I got to know him. He was a cute little fucker.”

“Just like his dad,” Justin said, looking up at him for a second before averting his eyes again.

Brian snorted a laugh. “Yes, I’m a fucker.”

Justin laughed anxiously, swatting him with his other hand. He let it drag to Brian’s elbow and hang onto his sleeve. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Justin, I--”

“You could’ve told me to leave,” Justin pointed out, cutting him off, “but I knew you wouldn’t. Ben wouldn’t be friends with you, or think I should take your class, if he thought you were as big an asshole as you think you are.”

Brian frowned at him. “What do you kn--” but he was cut off when Justin kissed him.

It was just a tentative peck and then Justin pulled back. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Brian could still feel the tingle against his lips as it slowly spread through him. He suddenly felt warm after being cold and numb for so long and he reached for Justin, wanting more. But he pulled back at the last moment. Jesus, what was he doing?

“For what?” he asked brusquely, taking a step back.

Justin looked away, embarrassed by the rejection. “Nothing. I should go,” he mumbled.

Brian grabbed him by the waist as Justin tried to get by him and Justin jumped back as if he’d been burned. Brian chastised himself for forgetting the kid was so skittish at being touched. But that was the problem. The kid wouldn’t make it through the first day of college if he didn’t fucking pull it together. He could tell Justin was trying, he managed to make it to Brian’s by himself, but that was hardly enough.

“Look, Justin I know what happened to you wa--”

Justin’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know shit,” he spat.

Brian was careful to stifle his smile. The anger was good. “I know you need to take control of life again before it controls you,” Brian countered. “Have some balls. Stand up for yourself. If there’s something you want, go get it. You want to be an art--”

Justin cut him off with another kiss and when it went longer than the first one, Brian didn’t stop him. He knew he should, the kid was—or would be—his student, but he couldn’t. The kiss deepened and all Brian could think about was how vulnerable Justin was as the boy shook in his arms and clung to his neck.

Somehow they ended up toppling on the floor. Justin was lying on the rug beneath him and he panicked, trying to push Brian away. If Brian had more self-control, been a better man, he would’ve stopped then, but all he wanted was to keep touching the boy and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hey,” Brian took Justin’s bad hand, kissing the palm, “it’s okay, you’re safe.”

Justin stopped struggling, looking around the room to orient himself again. Brian felt him relax and he rubbed his thumb over Justin’s wrist and kissed his hand again. “Good, that’s good,” he murmured and Justin nodded, lifting his head and kissing Brian’s hand back.

Brian nuzzled his neck and Justin turned his head, exposing more skin and still holding Brian’s hand to his lips. Justin seemed more at ease holding his hand, so Brian let him, using his other hand to push Justin’s shirt up over his chest. Brian moved down and trailed kisses over the boy’s warm smooth skin.

He sensed some tension returning when he neared Justin’s waistband so he stayed above the boy’s navel. Instead, he reached for the bottle of lotion and smoothed some on Justin’s chest, rolling the hard nipples between his slippery fingers, and Justin’s eyes drifted shut as he moaned softly. Brian pulled Justin’s shirt over his head and set it aside as he continued to rub lotion over his shoulders and arms. Slowly, Brian worked his way down and over Justin’s belly until his fingers were dipping into his jeans.

When Justin didn’t protest, Brian opened his pants and slid them down around his hips. He rubbed lotion over the boy’s thighs and under the elastic band of his underwear. Justin’s cock was hard and straining the cotton covering it. Brian was tempted to pull his briefs down too, but Justin beat him to it, sliding his hand under the band and shoving it down as he fisted his cock.

Brian looked up and met Justin’s eyes, the boy’s drooping lids barely letting him see the glazed irises staring back at him. Brian nodded his approval and kissed Justin’s thigh, making his breath hitch.

He resisted the urge to take his own cock out as well, rubbing them together. He didn’t want to do anything to disturb the comfortable haze the boy had slipped into. Instead, Brian rolled Justin onto his side, continuing to smooth lotion over his back and buttocks as Justin jerked himself off. When he knew Justin was close to coming he slid his hand over the boy’s hip and between his legs, rolling his balls in his palm. The extra sensation pushed Justin over the edge and he came all over their hands and the rug.

The spent boy rolled onto his belly, rubbing himself against the soft, plush rug, seemingly noticing it for the first time. Brian knew Lindsay had picked it specifically for Gus to play on, but before he felt the familiar ache at the memory of his son, he forced himself to focus on Justin sprawled out in front of him.

He kissed the boy’s shoulder and nuzzled the soft blond hair at the nape of his neck. Justin hummed a little, and Brian could tell he was drifting off. He pulled Justin’s pants back up to make him more comfortable and took a thin blanket from a crate under the crib to cover him.

Brian lay on his side, watching Justin sleep, careful to keep his mind tightly shut to any other thoughts until he drifted off himself.

***

Brian woke when the phone rang and he sat up, rubbing a kink in his neck as he got his bearings. He looked around the room, noting the spilled powder, empty lotion bottle, and discarded blanket.

Justin was gone.

Brian wasn’t surprised to see he wasn’t in any of the other rooms as he went to the phone.

“Hello?” he croaked, his voice dry from sleep. He glanced at the clock and realized it’d been three hours since Justin showed up.

“Brian, I’m sorry, we were at a faculty dinner. What’s this about Justin?” Ben asked. “Is he still there? Let me talk to him.”

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get his thoughts together. “He went home,” he lied. Well, he figured the kid went home. If he wasn’t sitting on Ben’s doorstep waiting for him, where else would he go?

“Really? What happened?”

“He just showed up, looking for you. Said his parents tried to take him to a shrink that would make him straight and he was pissed.”

“And he showed up at your place?”

“Yeah,” Brian spat, heading to the kitchen for the bottle of Beam, “after you told him he could come to me if you weren’t available, you asshole. What the fuck--”

“Brian, I never told him that,” Ben interjected. “But I guess he wanted you to know he tried your advice and it didn’t work out.”

“What?” Brian hissed, the whiskey burning his throat.

“He heard us talking last week. When you said he should be ‘shrunk’ some more or he’d never make it in your class.”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” Brian snarled.

“Would it have mattered?” Ben asked, his surprise carrying over the line.

No, not then. But… what the fuck had just happened?

When Brian didn’t answer, Ben said, “Look, I’ll call and check on him. And we’re still on tomorrow night for your birthday, right? Dinner at Deb’s and then drinks at Woody’s? Low key since you have class on Monday, but we’ll really celebrate this weekend. You only turn thirty once.”

“Once is enough, you prick,” Brian muttered, hanging up as Ben laughed.

Brian leaned against the door jamb of the kitchen, taking another swig from the bottle as he stared down the hall.

Christ, like he wanted to see anyone tomorrow night. Who the fuck wanted to celebrate a birthday when they just had a funeral? Shit, Lindsay would be so doped up she wouldn’t be able to feed herself and Debbie would just keep stuffing them with more lasagna until they puked as if it would keep everyone from thinking about anything else. And Michael, fuck he didn’t want to think about Michael watching him every second like he would just pick up the bread knife and slit his wrists.

He was opting for something less messy.

Brian went down the hall and shut the door to the spare bedroom again before going to his own room and taking a little something from the party stash he’d picked up from Anita the night before. He figured he wouldn’t have to worry about the repercussions of fucking a student since, with any luck, he wouldn’t be in class on Monday anyway.

***

But despite his best efforts, Brian did wake up Monday morning. Michael was hovering over him with a cup of coffee and shoving him off to the shower. Brian vaguely remembered the awful hour and a half spent at Debbie’s the night before, until he drunkenly pushed away from the table and stormed out. The boys followed him and they went to Woody’s. Brian intended to ditch them there and continue his own party at home, but after the first round of drinks, everything went blank until he woke up in bed with a bitch of a headache, but none the worse for wear.

It was suspicious, to say the least, and Brian grumbled, “Fucker, what’d you slip me?” as he stumbled to the bathroom.

Michael scowled. “I didn’t have to, you were slipping yourself plenty.” Despite himself, Brian smirked at the unintended double entendre. “What the fuck did you take? You were deadweight all night,” Michael said.

Brian tried to sort out his scrambled memories as he pissed and he did remember taking some of Anita’s stash at Woody’s. He’d stuffed it in his pocket thinking he might need it at dinner.

Fucking cunt never could mix reliable shit.

“Michael came in the bathroom and started the shower. “Get moving or you’ll be late.” He kissed Brian’s cheek as the other man stared at himself in the mirror. “Happy birthday. I said it last night, but I don’t think you heard me.”

“That was the point,” Brian sighed, leaning against the sink as he took another sip of coffee. “What are you doing here anyway? Did you leave Beefcake Ben to finally come play house with me instead?”

Michael rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Mikey,” Brian wheedled. “What does he give you that I can’t?”

“It’s what you give to everyone else that he doesn’t,” Michael shot back, though the venom wasn’t there anymore.

It was an old joke between them now, but it hadn’t always been easy banter. Michael had been in love with Brian since they’d met in high school, but Brian never returned his feelings, not like that. And then one day Brian came home from college with his roommate, Ben. Ben fell for Michael immediately, but it took Michael a little longer to come around. Eventually, Brian’s constant fucking around and heavy partying started to wear on Michael’s patience and he quit waiting, taking Ben up on his offer instead. They’d been disgustingly happy together ever since.

Brian kicked off his sweats, adjusting the shower spray as he glanced back at Michael. “Did I at least get a birthday blowjob?”

Michael nodded. “You tried for all thirty.”

Brian barked a dry laugh. “How many did I get?”

“Three.”

Brian frowned.

“Consider it one for each decade,” Michael suggested and Brian flicked water at him before stepping into the shower.

***

Brian found the new semester diverted his thoughts enough and he didn’t dip into the party mix as much in the evenings. At least not all at once like he’d originally planned.

Until Wednesday when he saw Justin again. He’d almost forgotten about the kid, or so he told himself, until he saw the blond head in the back of the class. Brian forced himself to think about his lecture and not the feel of Justin’s skin. Or the girl glued to his side and holding his hand when he became visibly agitated by the other clamoring students during the break.

She whispered in Justin’s ear and the boy smiled tentatively. She said something else and he laughed out loud, nudging her with his shoulder.

Once Justin looked up at Brian and caught Brian watching him, but he quickly averted his gaze.

***

After class, Brian went home and opted to blow off prepping for the next day’s classes in exchange for getting blown instead. He dumped his briefcase and jacket at the door and went straight to the bedroom. Changing out of his sweater and dress slacks, he slipped on a tank top and jeans. He stuffed a handful of condoms and party favors into his pockets and headed back out.

Justin was on the other side of the door when he opened it.

“What are you doing here?” Brian asked coldly.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“What? No. Go ho--”

“Please, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Jesus,” Brian muttered, noting the kid’s pale, sweaty skin. He stepped back and let him in. “You know where it is.” Justin rushed past him and down the hall. “There’s mouthwash in the cabinet,” Brian called after him as the bathroom door slammed.

He heard Justin throw up and then the toilet flushed. Brian poured two glasses of Beam, adding a lot of ice and water to Justin’s and went down the hall.

Justin had left the bathroom and gone into Gus’ room again. He was folding the blanket that was still discarded on the floor from before.

“Justin,” Brian said tersely, “I don’t want you in here anymore.”

Justin set the blanket in the crib and picked up the lotion and baby powder from the floor. “I just—I thought you would’ve cleaned this up. You don’t come in here either, do you?”

“What the fuck for?” Brian snapped, downing his shot. He set the glass on the bookcase and took another long sip of Justin’s. Justin just watched him silently.

“Why are you?” Brian asked after a moment.

“I was walking to the bus stop and I started to feel sick. You were closer than going back around to the union. Everything is locked up now.”

“You could’ve just puked in the bushes like any other college student.”

Justin wrinkled his nose. “I guess so.”

“So what got you all worked up? Class too much for you?”

Justin glared at him. “No, I have these new pills for…stuff. They upset my stomach.”

Brian nodded. “I understand. But tell me how your classes are. Seriously, I--” Brian swallowed hard, “I want to know.” Jesus, he did. He needed to know Justin was doing alright. The thought of those fucking pills just making it harder for him made Brian’s own stomach roll.

Justin shrugged. “Daphne thinks you’re hot.”

Brian knew he was evading the question, but he wanted to know about the girl too, so he let it slide for the time being. “Your little girlfriend?”

Justin smiled slightly. “No, not like that. We’ve just been friends forever.”

“Ah,” Brian smirked. “You girls do each other’s hair and nails and talk about boys?”

Justin laughed, shaking his head. “Fucker.”

Brian arched an eyebrow. “I told you before.”

Justin opened the lotion and sniffed. “You’re not--”

“Justin, you should leave,” Brian said abruptly. He couldn’t deal with the feelings flooding over him as he thought about the last time Justin was there.

Justin’s face fell, but he squirted a little of what was left of the lotion on his hand before setting the bottle down. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you in class then,” he said as he carefully rubbed it into his hand. “I like this,” he said quietly. “Feels good.” He looked longingly at the bottle again and turned to leave.

“This is better,” Brian said before he could stop himself. He reached over and picked up the baby oil—all the better to fuck him with. That would feel good. “Come here.”

Justin came back and Brian took his hand, rubbing some of the oil into his skin. He gently massaged the tight muscles, slowly straightening Justin’s fingers and Justin leaned into him. Brian’s other arm wrapped around Justin’s shoulders as he hugged him and continued to knead. He nuzzled Justin’s hair and the boy turned his face up, pressing their lips together, and Brian kissed him back, sucking Justin’s tongue into his mouth and making the boy moan.

Brian broke the kiss, licking Justin’s jaw back to his ear. “I’m going to take your shirt off,” he whispered and Justin shivered against him. “Lift up your arms.” Justin obeyed and Brian whisked the t-shirt over his head.

They kissed some more as Brian rubbed oil on Justin’s chest and arms. When Justin started to sway, Brian knelt down, holding his hips as he directed Justin to lift each foot and he took of his shoes and socks. Then he undid Justin’s pants watching Justin carefully as he slid his jeans and underwear down to his ankles. Justin lifted his feet to kick them off without being told and Brian rewarded him with feathery kisses on his belly as he rubbed more oil on the boy’s legs. Brian’s slick hands came back up and spread the oil over his belly too so Justin’s entire front had been oiled—except his cock.

The boy was hard and leaking and Brian was tempted to suck him off, but he figured out the first time that memories of the bashing surfaced uncontrollably when Justin was startled or uncomfortable. If he made the first move, the boy would panic. So Brian would keep everything at a level where Justin felt safe and until he was begging for more. In the meantime, Brian continued to massage oil into his skin, encouraged by Justin’s content sighs and moans.

“Lay down,” he said, taking Justin’s hand and maneuvering him onto his belly on the floor. He remembered Justin liked the rug, and as he suspected, the boy started rubbing his cock against the soft fibers as Brian oiled his back.

Brian moved down to his buttocks and then his legs. When he reached his feet, Brian slid his hands back up the inside of Justin’s legs and the boy spread them a little. Taking it as a signal to continue, Brian let his thumbs slide between Justin’s cheeks, grazing the crack as he slid his hands up over the mounds and back down again.

Justin started fidgeting and Brian thought he’d gone too far, but the boy simply pulled his knees up under him to lift his ass. He kept his ass low, legs spread to his sides so his balls and cock were just touching the rug. He wiggled a little and moaned as the fibers tickled his skin.

As he was pleasuring himself, Brian was focused on the boy’s exposed hole. He kept sweeping his hands up and down over Justin’s ass, his thumbs delving deeper into the crack with each pass. He added a little more oil and watched it run between Justin’s cheeks and over his hole. Unable to resist anymore, Brian rubbed his finger over the wrinkled opening and Justin gasped. But he didn’t pull away so Brian used the oil to work his finger inside a little.

Brian bent over Justin’s back, kissing his cheek. He leaned his weight on his other arm by Justin’s head and Justin took his hand, pulling it to his lips. Brian let him hold onto him as he licked and sucked on Justin’s ear to distract him from the finger pressing into his hole. To his surprise, when Justin moaned his name and Brian thought he should stop, Justin started pumping his hips, working Brian’s finger in and out.

Brian kissed his way down Justin’s back again, slowly dislodging his hand from Justin’s grasp and slid it between the boy’s legs, rubbing oil over his balls. When Justin didn’t protest, he moved up the shaft and started jerking the boy off. Justin moaned his approval, lifting his hips to give Brian better access. And Brian pulled his cock down, brushing the sensitive tip against the rug until Justin came.

Justin’s hot tight hole convulsed around Brian’s finger and he groaned, opening his pants and fisting his own dick. Justin’s cum and the baby oil on his fingers slicked the shaft and the combined stimulation of his hand on his dick and his finger in Justin’s ass made him come himself after a few strokes.

“Jesus,” he gasped as he collapsed next to Justin. After he caught his breath, he reached for the wipes, cleaning himself up and putting his dick away before guiding Justin onto his back and cleaning him up as well.

Justin blinked tiredly at him and then rolled onto his side, wrapping himself around Brian. Brian settled down again, sprawled on his back, and stared at the ceiling as he listened to Justin’s slow breathing against his chest as the boy drifted off.

***

About a half hour later, Justin woke up, yawning widely as he flopped onto his back and stretched. Brian sat, up leaning on his elbow as he hovered over the boy. “Get dressed, I’ll take you home. You do still live at home right?”

Justin nodded.

“I thought you weren’t going back,” Brian ventured.

Justin sat up, turning away from Brian as he gathered his clothes. “You said I should have some balls and go after what I want. I wanted to talk to by dad… to try and—it didn’t work. They’re getting a divorce.” He shook his head to himself. “Before I thought I wanted to move out, but now, after my dad turned into such an asshole, my mom needs me. If I moved out she’d just worry and--”

“That’s her fucking problem,” Brian interjected. “You need to do what’s right for you. If you want to move out, do it. You’re old enough to be on your own now.”

“I can’t, alright?” Justin snarled. “I can’t sle—fuck you, Brian. Just leave me the fuck alone!” Justin jumped up, but Brian grabbed him.

Justin jerked away and Brian let go, but he was up too, blocking the doorway. “Just calm the fuck down,” Brian said, running his hand through his hair. Justin turned away, wringing his shirt in his hands as he angrily kicked at the bookcase.

Alarmed, Brian reached out, just touching his shoulder tentatively. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Justin huffed, but the anger was abating and he leaned back into Brian’s arms. Brian turned him around and hugged him. He understood how helpless the kid felt, living a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

***

Over the next month, Justin showed up on Brian’s doorstep when he needed him and although Brian kept telling himself to turn the kid away, that he couldn’t help him, he always ended up taking the kid into the spare bedroom for a couple of hours.

As time went by, Justin grew more confident again. His nightmares lessened in intensity, he wasn’t afraid of being in public alone, and he didn’t have fits of rage as often. But as the signs of noticeable trauma dissipated in front of his friends and family, no one understood the real depth of his improvement like Brian. Each time Justin was alone with Brian, he became bolder.

Brian gradually added more toys to the room—a set of rectal dilators, dildos, and vibrators. They played with enemas, cock rings, and handcuffs. He taught Justin about rimming, blow jobs and shaving his pubic hair.

And when Justin was ready, when he asked Brian to, Brian finally fucked him.

As the semester passed, Brian had obviously quit resisting and actually admitted, to himself anyway, that sometimes he needed to see Justin too, though he never asked the kid to come over himself. But he never turned Justin away if he could help it, like for that evening, despite his other plans—who happened to be vibrating in his pocket, but not in a positive life-affirming way.

“Yeah, Mikey,” Brian answered his phone as he entered the auditorium.

“Just making sure we’re still on for tonight. I haven’t seen you in a week,” Michael replied.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Brian sighed, willing his hard-on away. Seeing Justin in the union between classes, especially when he hadn’t been with him for a few days, always did that to him.

Christ, he was like a horny teenager again. He wanted to tell his friend that his theory of being with college students was right after all, he felt like he had recaptured his youth, but he couldn’t admit he was fucking one of his students.

“How about we meet at the diner first? We can eat and--”

“Can’t,” Brian cut him off. “I have to grade papers for tomorrow first,” he lied.

“Jesus, stop assigning so much shit,” Michael groused. “You never used to care and now all you do is make them do homework that you have to grade. Since when did you become an actual professor?”

“Funny,” Brian replied. “I have an actual class to teach. I’ll see you later.” He snapped the phone shut and took out his lecture notes, nodding in response to students as they greeted him before taking their seats.

***

Brian found Justin in the bathtub when he got home from his last class. Justin smiled up at him and set his textbook on the floor.

Brian smirked. “Are you done with your homework?”

Justin splashed at him. “Shut up, fucker.”

Brian paused as he rolled up his sleeves and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Justin replied, batting his eyes as he sat up, hugging his knees to avoid the cool air on his skin. “I was just reading ahead. I don’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment. Well, in class.”

Brian finished rolling up his sleeves and knelt beside the tub. He took the sponge from the water and washed Justin’s back first. Justin laid his head on his knees and Brian kissed him, tongues twining together as he squeezed water over Justin’s shoulders. Then Justin leaned back, sinking under the water again, bending his knees and spreading his legs so Brian could easily reach everywhere with the sponge. When he was finished, Brian stood and held open a towel. Justin stepped out and Brian dried him off before discarding the towel and picking Justin up. Brian carried Justin across the hall and deposited him on the bed.

When Justin’s visits became a regular occurrence, Brian bought a twin bed and put it in the room opposite the crib. He’d gotten tired of fucking on the floor and initially Justin hadn’t been comfortable fucking anywhere else. It was also easier to wash the bedding than to keep cleaning the rug. Brian bought an assortment of sheets and blankets, each varying in texture for Justin to rub his bare skin on. The bed was currently made up with silk sheets.

Brian had also purchased a small cart to store the extra supplies they used. Justin had already laid out the items they would need that evening and placed the cart next to the bed.

Brian took the shaving cream and pumped some into his hand as Justin pulled his legs back to his chest. Brian spread the cream along his crack and then Justin lowered his legs and Brian lathered his cock, balls, and surrounding skin.

“On your knees,” Brian ordered, standing up. Along with the soak in the tub, letting the cream sit for a few minutes softened the hair and he wanted Justin to give him a blow job while they waited. Brian unzipped his pants, and his hard cock sprang free. Justin was on all fours, mouth open, and Brian pushed himself down the boy’s throat. Justin quickly sucked him off, there would be time for more later, and Brian zipped himself back up.

“Turn around,” Brian said, picking up the razor and kneeling beside the bed. Justin obeyed, presenting his ass and lowering his chest to the mattress as he hugged a pillow.

Brian kissed the back of his thighs and tapped the razor lightly on his butt to let Justin know he was starting. Justin took a deep breath and slowly let it out as Brian began scraping away the hair around his hole and along the crack to his balls. There wasn’t much and it didn’t take long, which was good because Brian knew the boy enjoyed it too much and his patience wore thin quickly.

He took the damp rag from the basin on the cart and used it to wipe away the remaining cream before lubing Justin’s hole and inserting the thick vibrating plug Justin had selected.

He rolled Justin onto his back before turning the plug on, pressing it deep in Justin’s ass. Brian hovered over him, kissing him hungrily. “Go on, come for me,” he murmured and Justin groaned, using the cream on his cock to slick the shaft as he jerked himself off. His other arm came up around Brian’s neck holding him close as he panted and moaned between kisses until he came.

Brian turned off the vibrator, leaving it lodged in the boy’s hole as he continued to kiss him until he relaxed again. Brian used the rag once more to clean him up and reapply the shaving cream. Now that Justin was sated he would be more cooperative as Brian shaved his scrotum, shaft and the rest of the pubic hair around his groin.

By the time he was finished, they were both hard again. Brian wiped away the remaining cream once more and stood, finally taking off his own clothes. Justin watched him through glazed eyes and held out his arms as Brian lay down between his spread legs. He rubbed his coarse pubic hair against Justin’s freshly shaved skin and the boy gasped, his eyes rolling back.

“Oh, god, fuck me,” he moaned, lifting his hips to increase the friction against his sensitive balls.

Brian let him squirm a little longer before he reached for the condom and lube. “Roll over,” he said as he bit Justin’s ear.

Justin did, removing the plug from his ass as he rubbed his leaking cock against the silk under him. Brian quickly applied the condom and lube and sank into the boy’s ready hole.

“Yessss…” Justin hissed, pushing back.

Brian fucked him hard and fast, backing off several times at the last second so they didn’t come yet. He wanted this one to last. Justin writhed underneath him, begging for more and to never stop.

After they came, Justin almost always drifted off and Brian covered him up and let him nap. Sometimes he stayed and watched him, but generally he redressed and went to do some work while he waited for Justin to wake.

When Justin woke up, Brian went back and used a bulb syringe to give Justin a mini enema. Justin held the small amount of water inside while Brian cleaned him up and applied the lotion all over his body. Brian moved the ritual to the end of the encounter when they started fucking because the lotion would’ve weakened the condoms. When he was finished, Brian slid a disposable diaper under Justin’s ass to absorb the water as he expelled it. Brian would finger his hole to increase the stimulation and sometimes Justin came again, but he always kissed Brian passionately and told him how much he loved him.

Brian discarded the wet diaper and cleaned Justin up one last time with a Tuck’s pad. The witch hazel soothed any razor burn or other irritation. Brian applied some baby powder to Justin’s groin and slipped his underwear back on before wrapping him in a blanket and setting him in the rocking chair with a chaste kiss. Brian stripped the bed and remade it with a new set of sheets before taking the cart to the bathroom to finish cleaning up. He returned a few minutes later and put everything back in its place before turning back to Justin.

“I have to go out for a while. Do you want to stay or go home?” Justin came over as often as they could spare a few hours alone, but he only stayed all night a few times a week, when he told his mother he was staying at Daphne’s to study late and he didn’t want to worry about catching the bus home.

“Stay. Molly doesn’t have school tomorrow because of parent-teacher conferences so mom is letting her have a slumber party. I wouldn’t get anything done tonight if I was home anyway so this way I can study while you’re gone. Then when you get home--”

“You’ll be asleep,” Brian finished for him, laughing at Justin’s glare, “and you’re going to wake up with my dick in your ass.”

“Even better than waiting up,” Justin agreed.

***

“That’s the third guy that’s cruised you in the last ten minutes,” Michael said, feeling Brian’s forehead. “You feeling alright?”

Brian shook him off. “I’m fine,” he snapped, slamming his shot.

Michael and Ben bitched that he didn’t go out anymore and when he did, they bitched because he was getting a blow job in the bathroom. Now he was actually sitting with them and they thought something was wrong. He grabbed the next guy that walked past and dragged him off.

He just wanted to go home and fuck the kid in his bed, not some lame ass trick who didn’t know how to cover his teeth when sucking cock. But if he did, Michael would follow him home, demanding to know what was wrong.

What was wrong was he had trained Justin to suck, rim, and fuck him the way he liked it and he hated that he had to lie about it because it would end his career. He was still living a nightmare, but this one he didn’t want to ever end.

But that was inevitable, wasn’t it? Eventually Justin would leave him too.