Title – The Boy Next Door
Author – smittenkitten27
Alternate Universe
Summary - Will Brian fall in love with the boy next door?
Rating - Adults only
Disclaimer -This is based on the short story 'Illicit Dreams' by Vicki Lewis Thompson. The characters belong to Cowlip Productions and Showtime; I’m writing for fun only; making no money; taking no credit.
Not beta'd -feel free to point out mistakes, but be kind.
Feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Prologue
Brian Kinney was fucking…again.
Justin peered at the illuminated red numbers on his alarm clock. Christ! The man just fucked some guy less than an hour ago. Justin could tell from the breathless cries of ‘yes, fuck, harder’ and Brian’s own howl of satisfaction. Now they were doing it again? No. That wasn’t right. Brian Kinney never did the same guy twice. Justin had found that out very quickly.
Who was this new trick? He couldn’t help but wonder. A lucky trick, that’s for sure. A tall broad shouldered muscular man, no doubt, as Justin had seen plenty of Brian’s ‘dates’ to know his type. Meanwhile Justin, a younger, shorter, and slighter man who hadn’t had sex –fucking or otherwise-since he’d moved to the Pitts last year, was forced to listen to the steady humping through the wall that separated their lofts.
Well it wasn’t like he was being forced to listen with a gun to his head. He could go into his living area, turn up the stereo and drown out the noise of their fucking, which he’d done earlier –at least at first. Towards the end of Brian’s last encounter, Justin had snuck back into his bedroom to catch the end; it was pathetic, he knew. Judging from the way the other guy had screamed his pleasure as he came during the earlier two hour long session, Brian was an expert at mind-blowing orgasms.
Justin had to get his kicks where he could find them. After all, there was nothing happening in his bed.
Apparently Brian was about to create another grand finale for trick number two. He knew because the loud, breathless moaning had started. No man had ever made Justin moan like that. Unless he counted the time that Ethan had continually slammed his head up against the headboard, repeatedly, and nearly given him a concussion before he realized Justin was crying for him to stop and not begging him to thrust into his ass harder.
That would never have happened with Brian. It was obvious from what Justin had overheard on an almost nightly basis that Brian was an excellent lover. If the cries of satisfaction weren’t proof enough, anybody could tell Brian understood men from the way he’d photographed them for his ad campaigns. Justin was pretty sure his current trick was the one modeling for the new underwear ad, but that was pure speculation on his part.
Yeah. Brian liked men and sex. The grunts and moans of pleasure from the other side of the wall escalating in pitch and reaching a stirring crescendo testified to that. Justin’s cock was hard and throbbing. He waited to hear Brian's deep groans, but instead the trick started gasping once again, running his words together –‘fuckyeafuckyheafuckyea’-in a clear indication that he was going to come.
Feeling extremely horny, but more than a little pathetic, Justin flung his comforter aside and hopped out of bed. Banging his fist on the wall, shouting over their cries of passion, and calling the building super were all out of the question. He’d been listening to this activity five or six nights a week for months now, and banging on the wall at this point would let Brian know he’d been listening and spying on him.
He should just go to Babylon and pick up a trick himself and be done with it, but doing that was admitting he wasn’t going to meet the perfect man; it was giving up. As an eternal optimist, Justin wouldn’t give up. Just because he was gay didn't mean he didn't deserve to be in a loving and committed relationship.
Padding into the living room, he flipped on his CD player and turned up the volume, using the light from a street lamp outside the window to see his way around. He absently reached for a lollipop lying on his coffee table –what was it Freud said about oral fixation? Justin wasn’t sure. Psychology wasn’t his field. Shaking his shaggy blond head, Justin muttered, 'Damn, I need a boyfriend. Hell, I need a fucking date.’
Unfortunately, last year’s decision to stop falling for the false lines guys at clubs used to pick him up had seriously narrowed the playing field. His best friend Daphne said that his Mr. Right was out there –just not at Babylon or necessarily on Liberty Avenue. Wherever his perfect lover was, Justin had a real knack for attracting men who just wanted a fuck. Then, afterwards the assholes left and never called.
Trying to think of something other than the sex going on next door, Justin sucked the candy into his mouth. It did nothing to curb his craving to suck something else in his mouth. Justin thought for a few minutes and decided that men were divided into two categories: the committed and the sluts.
It was his own private torture living next door to a sex god with hazel bedroom eyes and a body built for sex, but Brian had been part of the ‘sluts’ category when Justin had moved in, and he was still in that category, as much as Justin hated to admit it.
Justin couldn’t imagine Brian in a relationship. He was an alluring combination of animal magnetism, good guy charm, and sex appeal, but completely and utterly shut off emotionally.
Justin had observed the animal magnetism from afar, and he’d experienced the sex appeal every time he got a look at the man, but he’d also been lucky enough to see the good-guy charm up close, in the building’s laundry room. After meeting there by chance one Saturday morning, he and Brian had discovered they had so much fun talking and joking while the clothes washed that they’d made a habit of it ever since. Therefore, he could never, ever let him know that he could hear him having sex through their shared loft wall. That would be way too embarrassing.
And Christ, did he have sex. Even over loud music pulsing and thumping through the speakers, Justin could hear the wild cries as Brian and his trick of the hour shared their climactic moment. No doubt about it, Justin had to find a boyfriend…or go back to the ready and extremely willing tricks at Babylon several nights a week.
Chapter 1
As he did after work every night, Brian drove his Jeep from the Ryder Agency in downtown Pittsburgh to his loft on Tremont. Stuck in traffic, he tried to keep cool, but it wasn’t easy. It was hot as an oven outside, and he felt like he was baking; plus, as usual, he was thinking about Justin Taylor, which alone was enough to cause his temperature to spike.
He wondered if Justin would be home from the gallery where he worked, wondered if this was the night he should make a move on the blond. Normally when he was at Babylon the only move he made was towards the backroom, but his usual pick-up techniques weren’t going to work with Justin. He hadn’t found the right opening yet, but he had to think of something soon; he was practically burning up with need for his sexy neighbor.
His intense craving for the blond had started when they’d fortuitously met in the laundry room. He said fortuitously because normally he sent his clothes out to be cleaned. Actually, it had been the first time he ever used the building’s laundry facilities. It just so happened that his son Gus had slept over the previous night and had dropped his sippy cup of juice on the bed sheets. Rather than waiting, Brian decided to wash the sheets himself. Now he was glad he did.
They’d hit it off so well that they decided to wash clothes together on Saturdays from then on, and ever since then, Brian had been having erotic dreams about Justin. He’d shrugged off the first dream because he’d worked too late to go out and fell asleep without having had sex.
But then the next night, he went to Babylon as usual and led a sexy stud to the backroom, relieving some of his sexual frustration. Yet the dreams about Justin hadn’t stopped. In fact, they’d become more graphic. In his dream, Justin would walk into the laundry room in his normal Saturday style, his blond hair falling slightly in his face, eyes twinkling, loose cargoes and a tight t-shirt.
He’d see Brian there and stop. His blue eyes would darken with lust. He’d fall to his knees and take Brian into his mouth for a spectacular blow job. Then Brian would take him against the washing machine.
Thoughts of Justin had started invading his waking hours too. He found his mind wandering during meetings and photo shoots. But it was the night he’d fantasized about Justin while fucking some trick that he’d known he had to do something. He had to get the blond off his mind, and the easiest way to do that was to fuck him. Brian had a feeling once wouldn’t be enough, though. There was just something about Justin Taylor.
Brian’s reputation preceded him. It was obvious to everyone that Brian Kinney would never be anyone’s partner. He was with a different guy every night and even the hottest sex didn’t involve the same guy twice. Still he had to find out where this obsession with Justin would take him. He had never felt this way about anyone before. Unfortunately, Justin was also aware of his reputation. And although Brian hadn’t been tricking as much, he couldn’t show up at Justin’s door and say, “Hi. Wanna’ fuck?”
The time just wasn’t right for him to be so desperate as to ask Justin out. He didn’t do dates. Not yet at any rate. And he couldn’t use their time together on Saturdays to make his move. No, he’d leave the laundry set-up alone. In the basement laundry room, Brian was just a normal guy; if he tried anything sexual, Justin would quickly be reminded of Brian’s reputation and whatever it was between them would be over before it even started. He’d actually considered going to the gallery just so he’d have an excuse to visit Justin. But Brian Kinney didn’t make excuses: he didn’t need them.
The smartest thing to do was find some reason to knock on Justin’s door in the evening, and see how he reacted to that. Sooner or later Brian would seduce the blond. He was sure of it. But he’d have to take it slow. Eventually he’d work into their conversation that he’d been too busy working to hook up with anyone, but the reference would be casual.
If Brian played this wrong, Justin might think he was some asshole who discarded one man and moved quickly onto the next. Well, yeah, he was that kind of asshole; at least in the past, he seemed to act that way. He’d just have to take things with Justin slowly to prove he could be in a relationship. And surprisingly it was a relationship Brian was contemplating. Rather than shuddering at the thought, Brian thought it might be alright. He’d been doing his own laundry for Christ’s sakes just to spend time with the beautiful boy. It was safe to say he’d pretty much do anything to fuck him.
The walk from the Jeep to his building was filled with the same kind of heat and humidity that filled the Baths; it made him wonder why he would willingly put himself through that. Then he remembered the hot set of twins he’d fucked on his last visit, and he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face.
Thank god for central air! It amazed him that he’d spent all those summers with the Novotny’s without it. They owned a brick house not too far away. Back then Brian hadn’t noticed the sizzling temperatures during the summers, probably because he’d spent his time being sprayed with the garden hose or sucking on a popsicle.
He was still feeling hot and sweaty when he started down the hall toward his fifth floor loft. He planned on turning the thermostat down to arctic freeze. And a shower was definitely in order. He wondered if Justin liked popsicles.
Then he noticed the object of his lust standing in the hallway, and suddenly the heat was the last thing on his mind. Justin was talking with a good-looking delivery guy. After a quick scan of the label on the large box setting outside Justin’s door, Brian discovered it was an unassembled entertainment center. This could work to his advantage.
“Hey, Justin,” he called out as he passed. Christ did Justin look fucking hot in that black wife-beater! Maybe Brian should go shopping for some new art, no matter how obvious that was. He did need something to fill one empty wall of his loft. With an artist like Justin it was a wonder every gay male in Pittsburgh wasn’t lined up on Liberty Avenue outside the gallery ready to purchase his latest piece.
Justin looked up from the clipboard he was holding. “Hey, Brian.” His smile lit up the darkened hallway like sunshine.
“Looks like a project.”
“Yeah, I decided it was time to grow up and buy something to hold my stuff besides the old crates I’ve had since college.” He laughed and ran a hand lightly through his soft blond locks, which were mussed as if he just woke from a nap, an enticing change from his normal silky smooth style.
“Good luck with that.” Brian didn’t remark on it, but he thought Justin looked very much like a grown-up with the nice sized bulge in the front of his jeans.
“Thanks, Brian.”
Despite wanting to hang around a bit more, Brian continued walking toward his loft door. Then he turned, as if a brilliant idea just struck him. “Hey, those things are sometimes a bitch to put together. If you need help, I’d be glad to lend a hand or two.” To get a hand or two on that bubble butt, he added silently. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t beat his lust-filled brain into submission.
The delivery guy winked at the blond as he wheeled the box into the loft, but Justin didn’t notice and poked his head around the door to meet Brian’s hazel eyes. “That’s cool. I might take you up on it. Do you have a screwdriver?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Somewhere. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake. He was a pro with a camera, but only barely adequate with hand tools. He normally just called the super.
Well, the type of furniture Justin purchased came with directions, even if they were usually written in secret code and absolutely no help. He’d manage somehow.
“Thanks. I’ll probably need it,” Justin said.
“Anytime.” Brian waited until he was inside his loft with the door shut before sagging against it and smiling like a Cheshire cat. This was just the opening he’d been waiting for.
Chapter 2
An hour or two later, Justin sat on his living room floor surrounded by plastic baggies of nuts and screws in different sizes, various lengths and widths of pressed wood laminated to look like walnut, an Allen wrench, his Swiss Army knife and a completely useless set of instructions. He thought the knife was supposed to have screwdrivers built in, but he hadn't screwed anything yet.
Ok. He’d never assembled furniture before. He’d foolishly thought his above-average intelligence would get him through it. He did get 1500 on his SATs. How hard could it be to put together really? Harder than it looked that’s for sure.
The entertainment center had been a last minute purchase. He chose a larger model to hold his extensive collection of CDs and DVDs in addition to the new state-of-the-art television set that he ordered. His feelings, though, about his purchases were mixed. Spending so much money and committing himself to such a substantial piece of furniture meant that he was settling down and giving up the night life, at least for a while. For the past couple of months, Justin had focused his attention on going out and trying to meet someone. And now he was just fed-up of the whole scene.
OK, part of the reason he’d avoided his loft most nights was so he wouldn’t have to listen to Brian’s symphony of sex. But he’d also tried, really tried, to find a guy of his own. Daphne had insisted on setting him up with blind dates. His friends at the gallery had all given him names and numbers of men who would be perfect for him. Even the owners of the gallery had tried to fix him up. But their efforts, while appreciated, were in vain.