TITLE: A Little Extra Cream
GIFT REQUEST: Fic fluff/schmooop, angst, canon-compliant, hurt/comfort, sexy fun times, porn without plot. Brian/Justin - they haven't seen each other in years but like in the movies, they run into each other in New York...
SUMMARY: Brian bumps into Justin at a Starbucks in New York City . . .
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Brian groused to himself as he exited the building in midtown Manhattan and the bone-chilling wind made him shiver.
He was experiencing his usual antipathy toward the holidays, in spite of having just landed another client, and wasn’t at all enjoying the overwhelming Christmas cheer that met him at every fucking street corner. If Backdoor Adventures hadn’t promised to be so lucrative for Kinnetik, he wouldn’t have made the trip to New York himself. Especially not at this time of year. However, there hadn’t been anyone else who could go, what with Cynthia jaunting off to the Bahamas with her latest beau, and Ted and Blake celebrating their fifth anniversary in Aspen. The three executives handled all the big accounts, although they sometimes entrusted their sales managers with smaller ones. So, it had been up to him to trudge all the way to New York the week before Christmas to do the final presentation.
At least this client’s products should sell like hotcakes. Gay porn for straight housewives was apparently all the rage these days - go figure. Mr. Johnson Wang, Personal Assistant to the owner, Ms. Fagina Longbone, had actually tried to talk Brian into starring in a television commercial to promote their latest line of movies, or at least appearing on the cover of one of their popular ‘art house’ books. Brian had declined, preferring to keep his own wang under wraps for the time being.
As he was walking away from the office building, he felt something wet and cold land in his hair and looked up. Perfect. Now fucking snow was starting to fall. His Prada boots skidded on the pavement as he neared the corner. Where WAS that blasted Starbucks? he wondered as he glanced around in desperation. He was sure he’d seen one as he’d rushed towards the Backdoor Adventures’ building to give his presentation. Of course, now that he was done, he couldn’t find the fucking place.
The midtown traffic had been chockablock, with everyone madly rushing about at the last minute to buy Christmas presents. What were the morons thinking? Didn’t they know they should shop online? The clogged roadways had nearly caused him to be late for his meeting, so he hadn’t had time to grab his usual triple shot, non-fat latte on the way. And now that he was done, he was jonesing for his usual caffeine fix.
Ah. Thank fuck! There was the familiar coffee shop emblem on the green awning. He ducked inside just as the snow began to fall more heavily, joining a long line of customers who were waiting to place their orders. Impatiently grinding his teeth, Brian inched forward along with everyone else. When it was his turn with the barista, he rattled off his usual order, paid, and turned to look for a place to sit down.
“Would you like a little extra cream in that?” a familiar voice asked from over his shoulder - one he hadn’t heard in fuck knew how many years.
Brian whipped around, almost knocking over the slender blond with the sparkling blue eyes. “Justin?” he exclaimed in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”
As soon as heard that inanity come out of his mouth he wanted to kick himself. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know his former lover still lived here. Unfortunately, they’d drifted apart after Justin had been in New York for less than six months - neither of them making the time in their busy schedules for visits and then gradually letting even their phone calls and emails taper off until they’d lost contact completely. But Brian had kept track of Justin’s career from afar even after all this time. He just hadn’t expected that, amidst a city with over 8.4 million people, he’d run into the one person he did NOT want to meet.
Now that they had come face to face again, though, Brian couldn’t stop himself from staring.
Justin looked really good. Which shouldn’t have come as a surprise, of course. From everything he’d gathered over the years, Brian knew that Justin had really begun to make a name for himself. Brian read every single thing he could get his hands on about the boy. Every single article, review and industry publication. He’d even attended every show where Justin’s art was featured, although he’d always avoided meeting the blond in person. It just hurt too much to see him and yet not be with him. That didn’t mean that he didn’t care, though, which is why he’d followed the young artist’s career so assiduously.
And New York certainly seemed to be agreeing with his blond. Justin looked even more beautiful than Brian remembered. The youth he remembered had matured into a handsome, strong, even more appealing young man. The almost white-blond hair had darkened to a rich honey color and he was sporting a short, raffish-looking beard, but even with those changes Justin still didn’t look old enough to be one of the country’s most well-known, up-and-coming artists. The formerly soft, youthful, body seemed to have hardened a little bit. From what Brian could see through the bulky winter clothing, Justin seemed leaner, with more well-defined musculature and all the baby fat now gone. His expression seemed a little more guarded and less naive. But the short, preppy haircut and the sparkling gemstone-bright blue eyes still reminded Brian of the seventeen-year-old he’d found under a streetlight.
When Brian’s name was called a few minutes later, neither Brian nor Justin had moved a step. They were both still staring at each other with mute longing. The other customers had been forced to work their way around the two men to place their orders. The announcement that Brian’s order was ready finally startled the two of them out of their reverie. But even that wasn’t enough to break the connection that was pulling them together like a pair of magnets. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t even spoken in fuck knew how many years, the attraction was still there, stronger than ever, and completely undeniable.
What the heck? Brian decided as the blond’s tongue darted out enticingly to lick his lower lip. Justin had mentioned cream, so he might as well take a chance. “I don’t think they serve the clotted cream I prefer,” the brunet suggested blatantly, “do you know where I might get some?”
“I think I have some at home,” Justin responded with a flirtatious wink, “if you’d care to join me”. Without bothering to see if Brian was taking him up on his offer, the blond artist turned and headed for the door, his plump posterior beckoning to Brian to follow along.
He’d just exited the coffee shop behind Justin, when Brian heard, “Sir. Sir! You forgot your latte.”
When Brian looked blankly at the clerk that had followed him out of the store, the petite brunette reached out, placed the venti cup in his hand, and he wrapped his fingers around it. Brian gave the woman a distracted smile and immediately forgot all about her as he turned to jog after Justin.
The Starbuck’s clerk sighed to herself as she watched them walk away, the taller man surreptitiously squeezing the blond’s butt as soon as he caught up with him. Why were the best-looking ones always gay?
At the end of the block, both men stepped to the curb to try and flag down a taxi, but they were out of luck. One yellow car after another drove right past them without a pause. With two days till Christmas, taxis were more in demand than ever.
“Fuck!” Brian complained bitterly as someone else a block further up the street nabbed the yellow cab that had just dropped off a passenger down the block.
“C’mon, Big Guy,” the blond urged, tugging the brunet toward the subway entrance. At Brian’s horrified expression, he cajoled, “It’ll be faster than waiting around here for a taxi.”
“Only for you, Sunshine,” Brian gritted out through clenched teeth. “You’d better be worth it,” he added, only half joking.
Justin winked and giggled in reply and then shambled down the stairs at the nearest subway entrance. And fuck if that giggle didn’t have the same effect on his former lover as always. Brian needed to get these Armani slacks off as soon as possible. He quickly trotted after the retreating blond before the younger man could be swallowed up by the crowd, resigned to following that ass through hell itself if that’s what was needed.
They made it to the train platform without serious incident. Justin seemed completely at ease in his surroundings, while Brian felt like a fish out of water. He hated the teeming crowds pressing against him and cursed as yet another woman bumped into him, grinding her spike heel into his Prada-clad foot while they jostled to board the already-crowded train car. Then, just when he thought he was safely inside, he heard the ominous sound of a seam separating when that same woman jostled against him and her lethal heel got caught in the cuff of his pants. The woman lurched to the left causing Brian to fall against Justin on his right. To make things even worse, the woman had the nerve to protest, “You really shouldn’t wear cuffed pants on the metro. You’re just asking for trouble.”
Brian was so astounded at the woman’s chutzpah that he didn’t say a word as she slithered off between the other passengers to claim the only remaining vacant seat.
Brian grumbled at her from across the train, “these are Armani, bitch! Brand new Armani slacks from the winter collection.”
That sent the blond into more peals of laughter. “I’m s . . . sorry, Brian,” he gasped, “but you should see the expression on your face.”
“You’re asking for it, Twat,” Brian threatened, instantly mollified and easily falling back into the playful banter of earlier days.
“Promise?” an unrepentant Justin retorted, the blue of his eyes darkening with desire.
At the train’s next stop, Brian decided riding the subway wasn’t so bad after all. Only a couple passengers got off while what seemed like hundreds more climbed on. Brian ended up pressed firmly against Justin at the back of the car, chest to chest. Well, face to chest, anyway. Justin hadn’t grown any taller in the intervening years. Not that Brian minded in the least, since they’d always seemed to fit just perfectly.
While they were pressed together amid the mass of other travelers, one of Justin’s hands snaked determinedly under Brian’s overcoat to fondle his ass. Brian moaned quietly. A moment later, Justin’s other hand inched up to wind around the taller man’s neck, pulling Brian’s head down until their lips met.
Neither of them had any idea how much time had passed when they finally came up for air. “How much further to your place, Sunshine?” Brian panted.
“Uh, maybe ten minutes,” Justin grunted after removing his hand from Brian’s neck and glancing at his watch. He beamed at Brian, pleased to hear his old nickname on the lips of his former partner. He hadn’t heard that name in years. No one outside the family had ever used it. And it had always sounded extra special falling from Brian’s lips.
Brian shifted a little in the limited space, frotting some more against Justin. Fuck! If they didn’t get there soon, he was going to come in his pants, just like a fucking fourteen-year-old.
As the train lurched into to motion once again, causing their bodies to bump together even more, a hazy fog settled in Brian’s mind, overlaid by instant replays of all the times they had come together like this in the past. The loft, the backroom, Deb’s house, the alleys, the baths, his office, under the stairs at PIFA . . . Shit! . . . even the men’s room at Gus’ school. They never could keep their fucking hands off each other . . . fuck - he’d thought the word ‘fucking’ - and now that possibility was all that was playing over and over again in his head.
The blood was rushing in his ears, and he heard nothing but the racing of his own heart and the hitching breaths Justin panted into his chest, the warm air seeping through his dress shirt and spreading fire across his skin from nipple to nipple, making them peak painfully.
They had to get the hell off this fucking train . . .
Meanwhile, Justin was letting his hands roam as they chose, uncaring that he appeared to be molesting a grown man in a very public venue with security cameras blinking their invasive red eyes at them. He didn’t care about the other passengers as he dragged in breath after breath, drawing Brian’s still-familiar scent further and further into his lungs, so deep he knew he would never forget the smell ever again. He shifted his face a smidgen to the left, a little closer to Brian’s underarm where the cologne was less and Brian was MORE . . . MMMMMM. He couldn’t believe Brian was actually here. It had been his unique scent that Justin had recognized on a visceral level before he had even really seen Brian. It felt like a sucker punch to the gut followed by a warm, fuzzy, mind-bendingly Pavlovian response from his cock. Instantly hard, leaking, throbbing, his ass aching to be filled. The blood rushed in his ears, leaving only the sound of surf hitting the beach in rushing waves just before a hurricane.
Fuck! They really needed to get off the train. . .
Both of them seemingly had the thought at the same time and frantically looked around at the passengers crammed in around them so tight they should most likely all be on a first-name basis with each other. There was no way they were getting anywhere remotely close to a private moment. They caught each other’s eyes and made a split second decision without speaking a word.
Brian got a strong grip on the overhead straphanger loop at the same moment Justin spread Brian’s overcoat and suit jacket. Brian knew what was coming next and closed his eyes. Never had he had a lover so in tune with his instincts. Justin grabbed a piece of fabric in each hand and ripped open Brian’s shirt, sending buttons flying to ping off bystanders including a short, middle-aged housewife reading an insipid novel about manors, earldoms, and engorged members. The button had landed on the page she was reading and, when she glanced up, she instantly made the determination that real life, at least at the moment, was much more entertaining than her book. Fuck fiction! She had a front row seat to the hottest man-on-man action she had ever seen!
To say the men standing before her were good looking was an understatement. Together these two were hotter than Hades. The bookworm squirmed in her seat (to get more comfortable), as the blond swept his hands over the beautiful, naked, bronze skin, inhaling deeply as if to suck the taller brunet into himself and keep him locked there forever. Definitely a show worth tossing the Harlequin Romance for!
In response to the building sexual tension and his immediate need to free up a hand, Brian absentmindedly handed off the forgotten latte to the green mohawk-adorned punk rocker that was standing to his left. Then the brunet’s now-empty hand cupped the blond head, following along until it drifted down the to the back of the pale neck so he could get a good grip and pull Justin’s face closer, allowing him to capture the fairer lips with his darker ones.
After that, the men were in a world all their own, and the bookworm woman could finally see with her own eyes what that really meant. Reading about it, dreaming about it, wishing for it, had never really made her understand. But now she did. These two were oblivious to any and all distractions. They had eyes only for each other. The train could derail, be blown up by a bomb, incinerate in a fire, and they would still only have time for each other.
Even better than the romantic looks, though, Ms. Bookworm found she was now at eye level with their ‘engorged members’. And what a fucking fantastic sight that was! The distracted men ground themselves against each other. Hips, thighs, hands, whatever was available, meshing together as their hungry lips spoke of long separation and an even longer relationship full of laughter, heartache, and serious conversations deep into the night after even longer lovemaking.
It didn’t take long, just a few minutes really, until the men’s frantic motions paused at the exact same moment, followed by matching muffled groans of relief and then slower but somehow more intimate kissing. Finally, after the most insistent urges had apparently passed, the two beautiful men simply held onto each other, the blond’s head tucked comfortably under the brunet’s chin, both pairs of eyes closed as if to imprint the memory forever in their minds while the train rocked and rumbled to a stop at the next station. While the voyeuristic crowd watched, the entwined pair remained in place like statues, oblivious to the other passengers moving around them to disembark, tenaciously holding onto ‘their world’.
Ms. Bookworm finally realized the train had reached her stop and stood up. She placed a hand gently on the dark haired man’s sleeve and quietly commented, “That was the most thrillingly intense experience I have ever had - either publicly or privately - in my entire fifty years of life. It was truly amazing. Thank you.” Then she departed from the train along with the majority of the other passengers, leaving the car nearly empty.
Brian smirked, chuckled to himself, and finally let out the belly laugh he couldn’t control. Their repressed, matronly bookworm was exactly the type that Backdoor Adventures was trying to market to. And if this dame’s reaction was any indication at all, Brian knew his new client was gonna be REALLY big. And he knew just how to market it . . .
“So, was that enough cream for you, Mr. Kinney, or are you still getting off here with me and coming up to my apartment for another cup?” Justin was tugging at Brian’s sleeve as he edged towards the exit.
“Didn’t I ever teach you that there’s no such thing as enough, Sunshine?” Brian replied eagerly as his smile grew to almost match that of his blond subway pal. “And I don’t think I’ll EVER get enough of your particular brand of cream.”
“Good,” Justin towed the willing man off the train, turning once they were fully through the doors and breaking into a jog without letting go of Brian’s arm. “Because I think we’ll have to work deep into the night on this project, Mr Kinney. And, if you’re good, I promise you plenty more cream where that came from.”
Brian heard himself giggling jubilantly, like he hadn’t laughed since he’d last seen his Sunshine, before he matched his pace to Justin’s and let himself be dragged away for just a little more extra cream.
A/N: Thanks go out to my usual writing buddies: Saje, Eureka1 & Samcdee. We were having sooooo much fun writing this together that it’s really more of a group project than my sole work. Thank you, ladies for your friendship and creative output. We so rock together. Thanks also to Samcdee for the great banner!