Blondes on the Brian II

Justin couldn’t breath. "What?" he gasped.

"I was talking to Teddy when Detective Logan called him on the other line. They had a," Emmett took a deep breath knowing Justin would really panic now, "car accident."

The blonde blanched and swayed a little before Emmett reached out and grabbed him. He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. "How bad?"

Emmett squeezed him. "I don’t know. There was too much noise with the sirens and stuff, Teddy could barely hear him, then the phone died. But he did make out St. Anne’s Hospital, and he said he’d call back if --"

Justin was already calling his driver.


By the time they got to the hospital, Ted had called again to confirm Brian was fine. He had to get some stitches in his forehead, but the tests they ran to rule out any internal injuries or broken bones came back negative. Other than some bruises and minor muscle aches, he was fine and cleared to go home.

But when Justin found the man, Brian was hardly fine.

His partner was standing guard outside the curtained examination room as hushed voices could be heard inside.

"Detective Logan," Justin greeted him and extended his hand.

"Call me Danny," the other man replied shaking it. "I didn’t mean to give anyone a scare earlier, it was just a chaotic scene."

"I’m just glad it wasn’t anything serious," Justin said. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I wasn’t in the car. Brian was responding to another call when this car came around the corner, lost control, and hit our car. Lucky the other car wasn’t going any faster or they would’ve pushed the car on top of him when he fell. Brian saw it coming and tried to get out of the way, but he hit his head on the mirror before he got knocked on his ass. Unfortunately for you, he’s gonna be out of commission for a few days."

Justin blushed. "Well, I--"

"Look, kid, he might be kind of surly, you know, ‘cuz he’s not feeling so hot, but don’t let him tell you he doesn’t want you here. He was asking for you."

The blonde’s eyes widened. "He was?"

Danny nodded, a smile playing across his face. "He kept babbling about angels in the ambulance, I thought he was being pulled to the other side, you know, bright lights and all that bullshit? Scared the hell out of me, but then Ted told me that’s what he calls you, and I realized even gushing blood out of his head he was still thinking with his dick. That’s when I knew he was gonna be fine."

Justin’s face flushed hotter, along with the warmth growing in his belly from knowing Brian was thinking of him. Fortunately, he was spared anymore of Danny’s insights when Emmett bounded up, gaudy bouquet in hand.

"It was all they had in that crap emporium they call a gift shop," he groused. "Where’s Teddy?"

"He went to the restroom," Danny replied at the same time Ted returned.

Ted’s greeting was cut off by the loud shouting now coming from behind the curtain.

"Well, I have twice as much paperwork to do now," Danny piped up. "Tell Brian I’ll call him later."

Everyone said good-bye and Justin decided to see what the racket in Brian’s room was about. Ted tried to stop him from going in, he knew Brian didn’t want Justin put in the middle of a fight with Lindsay, but Justin shook him off.

"Didn’t you two have plans tonight?" he asked Ted and Emmett. "Go on, I’ll take Brian home."

Ted hesitated for a moment, then agreed. The blonde looked just as determined as Brian. He’d already spoken to his friend and knew the man would be difficult because he hated needing help. Let the two of them battle it out, he’d had enough for one day.

The two men left arm in arm, and Justin steeled himself for whatever he would find behind door number one, holding Emmett’s flowers in front like a shield.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." Brian suddenly snarled.

"Brian--" Mel pleaded, but Lindsay interrupted.

"See? This is exactly what I’m talking about," Lindsay pressed. "He’s standing in the goddamned hospital—again—and he still won’t admit he needs to take steps to protect his son in case something more serious happens. He’s almost died before. Look at that scar for Christ’s sake!"


Justin yanked the curtain back, surprising all three. One look at Brian’s bruised face and blood-matted hair and the younger man was seeing red. "What the hell are you doing?" he snapped at his friend.

Lindsay’s shock quickly turned to anger again. "Justin, this has nothing to do with you."

"No?" Justin set the flowers on the nightstand, fussing a little to control his temper. "Since I’m driving him home it sure as shit does. The man just about split his head open, why are you trying to finish the job?"

"He’s right, hon, this isn’t the time--"

Lindsay glared at her lover. "You always take his side!"

"Obviously not, you’re still together," Brian retorted.

"Get over it Brian, nothing you’ve done has worked. So now what? You’re going to use your son to get back at me? He’s the one you’re making suffer," Lindsay ranted.

"Where is Ricky?" Justin cut in.

"With a sitter," Mel replied.

Justin frowned. "So, Brian’s supposed to care more about his son when you won’t even let him see him?" he asked. "You’re here because you thought he was obviously injured enough to be near death and," he pointed to the papers she was brandishing in her fist and guessed at what they were, "demand he signs a fucking life insurance policy, but you didn’t bring his son to see him for what could have been the last time?"

Everyone was speechless until Brian noticed Justin was shaking violently. "Justin, I’m fine." He held out his hand. "Come here."

The blonde started toward him, but Lindsay grabbed his arm. "Were you scared when Ted called? Get used to it. You’re gonna get a lot more like it the longer you’re with him."

"Shut the fuck up," Brian snapped. This day had been a fucking nightmare since he woke up, and the only thing he wanted was the man just a few feet away. That fucking bitch would not drive a wedge between them.

Justin jerked his arm free. "I know the statistics, Linds, and they’re not as bad as you make them seem. A lot of policeman never get hurt at all during their entire career. But even so, even if only one out of ten, or one out of a hundred, policemen survive each year, Brian could be that one, someone has to be, so why wouldn’t I see him anymore?"

"Because he’s a selfish asshole. Did you know he hasn’t ever told anyone at work about his son? Or even his own mother?"

"Lindsay!" Melanie gasped. "You know why--"

"Let’s talk about your parents, Lindsay," Brian sneered. "You named my son after your own father and your parents won’t acknowledge him as yours. They fucking begged me not to sign my parental rights over to you. Hell, now they’ve just disowned you outright because you’ve been nothing but a disappointment from the beginning."

Lindsay suddenly burst into tears and ran from the room. "You asshole," Melanie muttered as she went after her lover. Justin was behind her as fast as he could manage.


The blonde caught up to them at the elevators. "Lindsay, I’m sorry."

The woman turned her tear-stained face from Melanie’s shoulder. "Now do you believe me? He’s--"

"He’s someone I care about very much."

"What?" The tears stopped just as suddenly as they started. "After what he just said?" she yelled angrily

"You both said a lot," he reminded her. "I know you two don’t like each other, but I’m not going to get in the middle."

"You just did," she accused. "You took his side, like everyone else."

Justin couldn’t argue with that because he had. But only because he thought she was being unfair.

Melanie pushed her wife into the elevator when it arrived. "Thanks for looking after him," she whispered. "I’ll call you later." As the doors closed, she gave him a sympathetic smile. He thought she was grateful she wasn’t the only one torn between them anymore. He smiled back sadly.


Brian sat stunned as everyone left the room.

Justin left.

Instead of dwelling on it, the man slid off the gurney and dug his clothes out of the closet. He bent to pull his pants on and almost lost his balance when the blood rushed to his head.

"What are you doing?" Justin chided as he slipped an arm around the man’s waist and nudged him back onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" the older man parroted.

Justin forced a smile. "I said I was taking you home, didn’t I?"

Brian didn’t return the smile. "You don’t have to. I can--"

Justin chewed his lip nervously, wondering where this sudden change came from. "Brian, did I do something wrong?"

The tension from Brian’s face slowly eased away. "No, I just didn’t want you in the middle of that shit with the munchers."

"That wasn’t your fault, I stepped into it myself. Lindsay may be my friend, but she was out of line." He paused for a moment, studying Brian’s reaction. The man had visibly tensed again. He was hiding something. "Brian, do you want to tell me what the rest of that was about?"

"No…not now, can we just go, please?"

Justin agreed to let it go, for now, and helped the man get dressed, careful to mind the bandage as they slipped the sweater over his head. "Ready?"

Brian nodded and started for the door, then turned back to the nightstand. "Don’t want to forget my flowers. That was very thoughtful of you."

Justin crinkled his nose at the ugly arrangement. "They’re from Emmett."

"Thank God," Brian sighed with relief and left them behind.


Justin would’ve been impressed with Brian’s home, if he’d seen more than the stairs to the bedroom. Brian promised a tour later, after a shower and nap.

They showered together, Justin moving them along quick and efficiently despite Brian’s protests. Then he shuffled the older man to bed, offering a long massage as incentive since Brian was beginning to balk at being ordered around.

He was taking inventory of the myriad of scratches and bruises on Brian’s back and legs when Brian suddenly rolled over, flipping him onto the mattress. Before Justin could protest, Brian was on top of him, smothering him with a long, hard kiss.

The ferocity startled him, but he wasn’t complaining. Until he couldn’t breath and Brian was squeezing him hard enough to bruise. Something wasn’t right, and he pushed the other man away. "Brian…Bri…stop…"

The older man pulled away suddenly. "Shit, Justin," he looked at the fingerprints he left on the artist’s hip, "I didn’t mean to--"

"No, you didn’t hurt me," Justin clarified, "but you’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m fine." He leaned in again, but Justin held him off.

"We can’t do this."

The older man rolled away and sat up. "You mean I can’t. So, why are you here? I don’t need a babysitter, Angel. You can go."

Justin blinked at him. "I know you don’t, but I want to be here."

"What the fuck for? Go find yourself a nice fresh twinkie." The words were out before he could stop himself and Brian grimaced. Despite the truth, he felt old and beat up, he wanted Justin to stay, he didn’t mean to push him away.

For a moment, Justin felt like he’d been slapped in the face. And then he smiled. All this time he’d been worried Brian would dump him, and Brian was afraid he would be the one to leave. Because of their age difference. But that had never mattered to him, and it suddenly became clear Brian wanted to be with him just as much as he wanted Brian.

Maybe they really could make this work.

The blonde slid up behind the other man, his right leg extended around the man’s hip and dangling over the side and his left curled underneath him. He pressed his chest against the man’s back and wrapped his arms around Brian’s waist. "Brian, I want you, fresh or not," he teased lightly as he dropped feather-soft kisses along his neck and shoulder.

"Why?" Instead of behaving like a forty-year old man, Brian sounded like his four-year old son.

"I don’t want someone my own age, Brian. They treat me like I’m…crippled. But you never have. Why is that? Why do you want me?"

Brian turned and pushed him back on the bed. He ran his hand down the injured leg, fingertips tracing over the scar tissue as he watched Justin struggle not to pull away and then glare back at him defiantly. "That’s why," he replied finally.

Justin’s brows knit together in confusion.

"You’re the strongest person I know."

Any protest Justin might have made to the contrary was stifled with another kiss. It wasn’t as rough as the first one, but just as hungry.

And the younger man was just as stubborn. "Brian, you need to rest," he panted around the other man’s mouth. "Your head…"

Brian groaned in frustration. "I need you." He looked into the glassy blue orbs shining up at him. "I need to be inside you."

The raw emotion on the older man’s face broke him. The day’s events had obviously been more draining than Brian let on. The strong façade the detective always managed to keep in place was gone, and for the first time, he was asking for something for himself.

Justin lifted his head for another kiss. "Do it. Anything you want."


Justin was splayed out over Brian’s thighs, legs carefully wrapped around his lower back, impaled on his thick shaft. The older man had taken him hard and fast, driving the air from his lungs. Justin took each thrust eagerly, reveling in the urgency that overrode caution.

Brian felt Justin clinging to him, nails biting flesh to hold on, begging for more. He pumped his hips in short, deep jabs and Justin keened beneath him. He kept the pressure on that spot, pressing the swollen gland, and took the hard cock between them in his hand.

Driven to the brink, overwhelmed by sensations from both sides, Justin’s hand suddenly covered Brian’s. He needed more of everything. One leg unwound from his back as the blonde used it for leverage, pushing off and sliding back down, before squeezing tight, rubbing the head of Brian’s cock against his prostate again. Both men moaned in unison. The blonde continued to fuck himself, sliding up and down the hard shaft inside him as he pushed his own cock in and out of their entwined fingers.

Justin’s blatant wantonness, his complete abandon as he pleasured himself, was the most beautiful thing Brian had ever seen. It was the first time they were fucking without being connected by as much skin contact as possible, blindly kissing and touching all over, and the older man was enthralled by just watching. Whereas Justin had always seemed more shy and hesitant before, needing constant reassurance and tenderness, the man with him now was wild and confident. The change was astonishing.

Brian slid his hand from beneath Justin’s. Justin whimpered in protest, but the older man covered his again for a moment, guiding the motion. "Look at me," he coaxed. When Justin’s eyes opened, his self-consciousness returned and he faltered, but Brian kept the pace. "Don’t stop," he ordered as he moved his hand away again and cupped the tight sac below.

Justin arched into the touch, still stroking himself, still writhing on the shaft buried in his ass, because he just couldn’t stop, regardless of whether or not Brian was watching.

"Look at you," Brian murmured, "so amazing…" He firmly kneaded the tender sac in his hand. "Come for me… show me how good it feels."

If everything he was feeling wasn’t enough to make him come, hearing Brian ask for it, seeing the hazel eyes burn into him, finished him off. The pleasure rolled over his body, wracking his small frame as he held tight to the man above him to keep from drowning. He cried out, trying to say so much, but only managing to gasp the other man’s name between moans.

Brian watched Justin ride out his orgasm, trying to stave off his own as long as possible while the blonde rode him harder with brutal, erratic thrusts that were a sharp contrast to the constricting spasms of the tight tunnel trying to expel him. Just as Justin’s tremors abated, the older man finally lost control and spilled into him, collapsing into his lover’s waiting arms.


As the sun slowly sunk from the sky, Justin slipped out from under the other man to clean them up. He gave Brian some medication for the aches that would surely be worse, but worth it the detective insisted, later, and then finally settled back down under the blue glow softly illuminating the room. Justin thought he heard one of their phones ringing from the pile of discarded clothing in the bathroom, but neither man cared enough to investigate. The long limbs of the taller man gently enfolded the smaller form and both soon drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

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