Justin swivelled his head, giving the stranger who’d appeared at his elbow a quick once-over. Dark brown hair cut just a tad too short, nondescript brown eyes, muscled chest encased in a skin-tight Tee. Not bad, but nothing to write home about, either. Of course, he mused, it might just be that he had high standards. Too high.

Justin smirked, pushing the thoughts aside. “Oh, I know. Blonde hair, blue eyes, nice smile, perfect ass. Sometimes I wonder that I don’t collapse in a puddle of self-pity.”

The stranger arched a brow. “Perfect un-fuckable ass,” he pointed out.

Justin glanced over his shoulder at his butt before leaning forward, resting his arms against the catwalk railing. “Looks perfectly fuckable to me.”

“You should see the view from here.”

“Listen, buddy--”

“Name’s Rick. Actually it’s Ricardo. My mom had this thing for Ricardo Montalban, and--”

“Okay. Rick? Too much information.”

“Just trying to help you out, kid.”

Justin huffed out a breath. What was it with people wanting to help him? First Michael and his repetitive lectures enumerating everything Brian wouldn’t ever do… and now what’s his name. Rick. Justin let his gaze drift back over the dance floor with a stifled sigh. It didn’t matter where he told himself he was going to look… his eyes were always drawn to the centre of the room and the man swaying there.

Brian had, naturally, picked up one of the hottest guys at Babylon. They brushed together, then moved apart, together, apart, together… just watching it was hot. Justin grimaced, only then aware that the stranger was still watching him speculatively.

“Listen… Rick…” Justin began again. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know that guys want you. I know that they buy you drinks and pull you onto the dance floor and rub their dicks against you and get you all fucking hot and bothered. I know that they refuse to follow through. I know that they won’t take you there,” Rick indicated the backroom with a lift of his jaw.

Justin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes turning involuntarily to the cluster of chains that segregated Babylon’s infamous backroom from the dance floor clientele. He heard the stories of what went on back there. He’d even wanted… sort of… kind of… to check it out himself. But the whole thing was still just so… new. He felt comfortable with Brian --- had done things with Brian that were only part of his wildest imaginings just a few short months ago -- but could he be comfortable with other people watching? He just didn’t know. And anyway, Brian had made it pretty clear that he shouldn’t go to the backroom alone. Alone meaning “without Brian”, of course. Unfortunately, Brian didn’t seem inclined to escort him anytime soon.

Justin’s eyes flicked back to the stranger. “Maybe I don’t want to go back there.” He winced before the lame response was even fully out of his mouth.

Rick merely snorted. “Want to know what else I know?”

“No, but I don’t seem to be able to shut you up,” Justin answered irritably.

“I know that Pittsburgh’s a small town,” Rick replied, completely nonplussed. “And gay Pittsburgh is even smaller.”

“Will you be making your point before I’m ready to collect my old age pension?”

“There are some big fish, and there are a lot of little fish. But there’s only one shark.” When Justin continued to stare at him blankly, Rick sighed. “Word’s out, kid. You are strictly off limits.” Rick‘s forearms brushed Justin’s as he leaned forward to join him at the railing. He held Justin’s eyes for a moment before directing his attention to the centre of the dance floor.

Justin’s eyes tracked the same path, a frown unintentionally marring his features when he caught sight of Brian. Brian’s trick had apparently swallowed something, and Brian was trying to remove it… with his tongue.

Justin swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “What… what do you mean?”

Rick turned his back on the display on the dance floor, crossing his arms at his chest. “Everybody knows you’re Kinney’s new toy. His private little twink. They can look… but they can’t touch.”

Justin shook his head vehemently. “No. There’s no way. That’s not Brian. He fucks everything that moves.” Justin flinched inwardly at the words, but knew that they were true nonetheless. There is no way Brian would… would he? Justin shook his head again. “He wouldn’t say that.”

“Of course he wouldn’t say it. But we all know it just the same.”

Justin scowled, his gaze once again turning to the floor below. Brian’s arms were draped around the trick’s shoulders, their groins grinding together as they moved in time to the music. Brian’s head dipped forward to whisper in the guy’s ear. Justin clutched the railing, his knuckles turning white with exertion as he watched… and fumed. Brian could fuck whoever he wanted. Brian did fuck whoever he wanted, while he waited around like a little puppy dog looking for a scrap of attention. And now he’s supposed to believe that Brian’s been… that people are afraid to… How the fuck did Brian get off dictating who he could… could…

“This is bullshit!” Justin spat out.

Rick shrugged. “Just letting you know the score, kid.”

“He’s got no fucking right!”

“Maybe you should tell him that.”

Justin’s eyes darted back to Rick’s, and narrowed. The guy was clearly amused. He didn’t think Justin had the balls. And if there was anything he had, Justin reflected, it was balls.

He spun toward the stairs. “Maybe I will.”

Brian swivelled his hips, brushing lightly against the trick’s engorged cock before moving away. The trick -- Trent? Troy? Didn’t matter -- moaned softly, trying to move forward to recapture the sensation. Brian kept his hands firmly on the trick’s hips, controlling the play. He looked into the guy’s glazed eyes, and smirked. Another five minutes -- seven, tops -- and Trent/Troy/whoever-the-fuck would be ready to explode. Then, and only then, would he drag him into the backroom and fuck the shit out of him. Brian let his head roll back, smiling. Life was pretty fucking amazing.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Brian closed his eyes briefly before glancing to his side. “Justin. Isn’t this a school night?” he snipped.

“Answer me!”

Brian pulled the trick closer, rubbing against him provocatively. “It’s called ’dancing’, Justin. Give it a try.” He smirked again at the trick -- Travis? -- who grinned back adoringly. “You might like it.”

Justin crossed his arms. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

“Fucking? Sucking?”

“No. Telling guys not to suck or fuck me.”

Brian’s glanced away from the trick’s admiring eyes to meet Justin’s stare. He had to admit it, the kid was looking particularly unfazed by their surroundings. It wasn’t every day he was interrupted on the dance floor by a twink on a mission. He wouldn’t say he liked it, but… “Now why would I do something like that?”

“You tell me.”

Brian shrugged, sliding back into the trick’s orbit when he felt the hand wrap around his arm. His eyes flashed fire, only to be met by Justin’s equally furious expression.

“You’re with a different guy every night!” Justin railed. “They’re not even… you don’t even… Who gives you the right to decide who I fuck? If I want to be with someone, I will! If I want to go to the backroom--”

“Is that what you want, Justin?” Brian turned his full attention to the younger man, the trick -- Trevor? -- already dropping from his radar.

“Yes!”

Brian pressed against Justin’s body, one hand dropping to the small of Justin’s back to pull him forward. He bent his knees, angling his body so they were on an even footing, and snaked his tongue along Justin’s neck. Somehow, the scent of Justin -- fresh, clean, pure -- seemed to override the more heady aroma that usually filled the cavernous club. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Y…Yes.”

Brian’s mouth curved in a smile against Justin’s neck. He raised a hand to languidly brush Justin’s nipple, the friction created by a practised hand and the thin layer of cotton causing the bud to harden instantly beneath his fingers. “To have someone else touching you… teasing you…”

“I--”

Brian’s hand skimmed lower, slender fingers trailing along the waistband of Justin’s khakis. He lifted the shirt, sliding his hands along the tender flesh of Justin’s stomach as his mouth worked on Justin’s neck. The boy sagged, eyes closed and breathing laboured, apparently oblivious to anything but his touch. “To have someone else kissing you…”

“Mmm… I… I…”

Brian shifted, letting his hand drop between their bodies. He ran his hand along Justin’s burgeoning erection, squeezing gently. “To have someone else tasting you… stroking you… making you come… to be someone’s trick for the night… Is that what you want, Justin?”

Brian pulled back slightly, letting his forehead rest on the younger man’s. Justin drew in a ragged gulp of air as he struggled to focus.

“Is that what you want, Justin?” Brian repeated.

“I want… the choice,” Justin managed to squeak out.

Brian arched a brow, impressed despite himself. He ran his hand lightly across the boy’s ass, feeling the shiver of excitement his touch provoked in the other man. It was intoxicating. “And what do you choose?”

Justin groaned, the low primal sound causing Brian’s cock to twitch involuntarily. “You.”

“Sorry? I couldn’t quite catch that.”

“God, Brian! Please! Just fuck me!”

Brian smiled triumphantly. “Aaah. All you had to do was ask.”

With Brian‘s firm grip on his waistband, Justin let Brian lead him through the crowd of pulsating bodies. The disco trash still pounded loudly around them, but somehow the music couldn’t seem to compete with the hammering of his heart or the tingling of his body. He wasn’t immune to the knowing stares that followed the couple as they threaded their way through the gyrating mass of scantily clad men, but he couldn‘t remove the wide smile that lit up his face if he‘d been offered a million bucks. And while a part of Justin believed that he should feel ashamed or embarrassed for capitulating to Brian so swiftly, he quashed that self-doubt with a little truth. While he did want the choice… if it came down to Brian or some nameless guy who could only offer a quick fuck, Brian would always be his choice. So what was the harm in admitting it?

Justin slowed as they approached the dangling chains that led to the backroom, apprehension warring with excitement in his gut. He nearly stumbled when Brian continued forward at the same brisk pace, bypassing the entryway entirely.

Brian turned when he felt the hesitation. “What?”

Justin glanced from the partitioned area to the irritated eyes of the older man. “I… I thought…”

Brian sighed, tugging Justin forward abruptly and wrapping his free hand around the younger man’s neck as he pulled him into a kiss. Tongues duelled eagerly for a long moment before Brian pulled away to look into Justin’s glazed eyes. “Don’t think.”

Justin looked again from the chains to Brian and then to the catwalk railing above, before returning his earnest gaze to his lover.

“But… aren’t we going to…?”

Brian merely smirked and led Justin from the club.

Brian released his grip on Justin’s waistband as soon as they stepped outside, knowing the kid would follow wherever he went. The fresh night air bit gently against his skin, all the more cool against the perspiration soaking his flesh. Brian felt his shoulders tense as he made his way with long, even strides to the jeep, Justin’s high-tops flapping on the pavement behind him as he struggled to keep up.

He ran a hand through his hair distractedly. Justin. Why did he give a shit who Justin fucked? The kid should be out there enjoying the benefits of being a young, hot twink with a great ass. Maybe then he’d find someone else to latch on to. Let the little fucker stalk someone else for a change. Brian gritted his teeth, casting a sidelong look at the younger man who had reached his side. He was never one for introspection -- fuck, he hated introspection -- but it didn’t take a genius to figure this one out.

He actually liked the little shit.

He liked the way Justin’s eyes followed him when he moved. He liked the way the kid’s smile lit up the room. He liked the way Justin moaned his name when he came. He liked… the control… that he alone wielded in the eyes of one young, hot twink with a great ass.

And there was no fucking way said twink was getting corrupted in the backroom of Babylon while he had anything to say about it.

Because Justin still had an air of innocence about him, despite his newfound adventures in this previously forbidden realm. And since Brian was the one that sullied some of that innocence, he was also the one that was determined to keep a portion of it untarnished. At least for awhile.

So he kept an eye on the little fucker. He had known that Justin was at Babylon, could feel the kid’s eyes on him the whole night. What he hadn’t known -- until he’d followed Justin’s gaze to the hanging catwalk -- was exactly who the brat had been talking to. Brian smiled ruthlessly as he remembered the way Rick had blanched and backed away from the railing when he met Brian’s cool gaze. Now he knew who had filled the kid’s head with such misguided and foolish ideas. Brian halted at the jeep, keys dangling. He’d deal with Rick soon enough.

“Brian?”

Justin’s tentative voice broke into Brian’s reverie. In one smooth movement he reached out and slammed the younger man into the door, crushing their bodies together as his mouth began a merciless assault on Justin‘s lips. Justin moaned into his mouth and Brian took that opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, sucking and probing relentlessly at the tender sweetness of the warm cavity. He let his hand trail down Justin’s side, lingering at the hip for a moment before he reached behind them and grabbed the boy’s ass, pulling Justin violently up against him. Brian swivelled his hips, grinding their cocks together as he continued his onslaught on Justin’s lips.

Abruptly he pulled back, resting his forehead on Justin’s as the younger man struggled to control his breathing. Justin’s face was flushed, his lips bruised from Brian’s lavish attentions, and his chest heaved against Brian’s softly panting form. After a moment he raised his gaze to Brian’s, and the older man’s eyes widened slightly. Even darkened with lust, Justin’s eyes still sparkled with vitality and sincerity and trust. Looking into those eyes made him want to wrap his arms around Justin and… teach him… and… guide him… and… protect him…

Brian pushed the thoughts away forcefully. He reached around Justin, unlatching the jeep door and flinging it open before pushing the front seat forward. The dark interior of the back seat beckoned. He looked at the boy, but Justin’s feet seemed planted to the ground. “Well?” he snapped. “Get in.”

Justin gazed skittishly around, his eyes refusing to light on any one thing. His lips moved silently before he was finally able to force a word out. “Here?”

Brian rolled his eyes. This was the kid who wanted to visit the backroom? He snorted, deliberating telling the boy to consider himself lucky that he’d parked the jeep near the dumpster. At least here they were relatively free from all but the most curious of prying eyes. After all, Justin was not known for his discretion when he was caught up in the throes of passion. Brian bit the words down when he caught sight of the timidity in Justin’s gaze… every line of his body frozen.

Brian moved, pressing their bodies together softly as he ran his tongue along Justin’s neck in one long meticulous stroke. The boy‘s body quivered appreciably under his gentle touch. “Here. No one will see,” he soothed. “And I want to fuck you now.” Brian shifted, rubbing his swollen dick against the smooth khaki of Justin’s trousers. He took Justin’s reciprocal moan as acquiescence, and pushed carefully on the younger man’s shoulder. Justin tumbled backwards into the backseat, and Brian wasted no time in following him inside and slamming the door shut behind them.

The interior of the jeep left little room for manoeuvring, but Brian had plenty of practice in working within its confined space. In one supple movement he had Justin on his back, his hands already working on the closure of his trousers. Justin gasped beneath him as Brian worked his pants and underwear away from his body, the cool air nipping at the exposed flesh but not, Brian noted, affecting Justin’s straining erection in the slightest. He ran his palm lightly over the rigid cock, smiling when Justin’s hips bucked unintentionally at the caress.

“Easy,” he said, the whispered command as much for his own benefit as Justin‘s. As much as his body ached to be deep inside the boy… pounding into him… he had to take this slow and steady. Had to make this a positive experience for Justin -- another “first” in what seemed to be a long line of “firsts” for the kid that Brian was involved in. Gently forcing Justin’s knees up while pressing one hand firmly over Justin’s hip to hold him secure, Brian leaned forward, his warm breath stealing gently over Justin’s turgid flesh. Justin writhed slowly as Brian dipped his head, nipping and sucking attentively at the tender skin of his inner thighs. He let his tongue slope lazily into the juncture of hip and thigh and Justin jerked beneath him, only Brian’s hold on Justin’s hip keeping the younger man in place. Justin moaned again as Brian blazed a patient path of lips and teeth along delicate flesh. Brian rolled his tongue against the softness of Justin’s stomach, the taut skin undulating like a gently rolling wave. He raised his eyes to Justin‘s face. The younger man had his head thrown back, eyes closed as he struggled not to respond with the frantic thrusts his body craved. Brian smiled. He’d probably tortured the kid long enough. Bending, he deftly took the head of Justin’s leaking cock in his mouth.

The effect was instantaneous. Justin’s eyes flew open, fingernails scraping at the smooth fabric of the seat as they scrambled for purchase. Brian sucked lightly, lapping at the tangy sweetness of the boy before engulfing him completely. He swirled his tongue expertly along the thick shaft of Justin’s dick, then pulled back and repeated the process. Again, and again, and again… And felt high. High on the keening whimpers pouring from Justin’s throat. High on the feel of Justin’s hips struggling to piston beneath him, held in place by a grip that was likely to leave bruises on the younger man. High on the breathless sound of his name on Justin‘s lips. High on the pressure of Justin’s fingers twined in his hair, urging him to move faster. High on the eager, anxious, needy, devoted desire of a young, hot twink with a great ass.

His young hot twink.

His hands flexed as Justin exploded into him, the savoury liquid splashing the back of his throat as he swallowed convulsively, taking everything the boy had to offer. Taking everything. He held on as Justin’s shudders gradually slowed, only letting the flaccid dick fall from his mouth when Justin’s breathing regulated.

Brian sat back on his haunches, meeting Justin’s gaze. The boy was propped up on his elbows. Pale smooth skin, shining in the moonlight streaming through the windows, seeming to light the boy from within. Brilliant blue eyes, brighter than any daytime sky, sparkling in a face suffused with joy. Velvety full lips, upturned in an open, trusting smile.

Fuck.

“That was--” Justin began.

“Yeah.” Tersely pushing away from the boy, Brian reached behind him to open the jeep door. He pulled himself from the vehicle, reaching into the front seat for his spare pack of smokes. “Get yourself cleaned up,” he said brusquely over his shoulder as his fingers closed gratefully over the package.

Leaning against the jeep and drawing deeply on the smoke, Brian half-listened as Justin made himself presentable. His own erection pressed painfully against his jeans, reminding him only too clearly that he hadn’t gotten off. He shook his head, staring into the distance. This little adventure hadn’t played out the way he‘d envisioned it when he‘d been teasing the kid on the dance floor. He’d planned to take Justin to the jeep and fuck his brains out. He’d planned to use the boy as he used every other man in his life -- as a convenient receptacle for his passion. He’d planned to teach Justin a valuable little lesson in getting what you wish for.

He hadn’t counted on the way the kid looked at him. The way the kid touched him. The way the kid made him… feel.

Brian Kinney didn’t feel.

“Brian?”

Brian jerked away from the jeep, plastering the all-too-familiar smirk on his face before turning to Justin. The kid cleaned up nice. Tight burgundy shirt plastered to his slender torso, long sleeves pushed up to the elbow. Khakis smoothed and wrinkle free. Eyes wide and trusting.

“Brian? That was amazing.”

Brian huffed out a breath, tossing his half-smoked cigarette down the alley. “I‘m sure.”

Justin took a step forward. “Only I thought…”

“I thought I told you not to think,” Brian sneered.

Justin’s eyes clouded for a moment before he took the second step, the one that would close the distance between them. “I thought,” he repeated, “that maybe I could… return the favour.” His hand brushed Brian’s erection playfully, but his eyes were serious. “I want… I want you to feel the way I felt. I want to make you feel that.”

Brian raised his hand, intending to push the kid away. This had to stop. He didn’t need some love-struck twink following him around. He didn’t need a stalker. He didn’t need a… lover. He didn’t need anyone.

Brian knew he intended to push the kid away. But somehow his fist was tangled in Justin’s shirt, and he was pulling the boy against his chest, and the lips that he planned to avoid at all costs were crushed against his. He plunged his tongue into Justin’s mouth, forgetting everything but the taste of this, honey and warmth and sweetness. He finally dragged his mouth away, breathless and hungry with desire. Justin moaned at the loss of contact, and Brian smirked again. There’d be plenty of contact soon enough.

He pulled Justin toward the front seat, already mentally calculating how fast he could make it to the loft. Seven minutes -- ten, tops -- and Justin would be his. Again.