FIC: Desk Job (hard R; Brian/Justin)
Nothing takes one's mind off having stitches in one's mouth like smut! ^_^
Written for the 25fluffyfics challenge.
Title: Desk Job
Author: Etharei
Fandom: Queer as Folk (US)
Characters: Brian/Justin
Prompt: 24 (Writer’s Choice)
Word Count: 1, 447
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Brian and Justin in a furniture store. Fluff served the B/J way.
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Author's Notes: Set between 403 and 404, very slightly spoilerish. Unbeta-ed, PWP.
A hand gripped tightly onto polished wood, long fingers curling into claws, their short manicured nails trying to score some purchase on the smooth surface.
“Ah!”
Liquid trickled down to the base of his cock, catching on his nest of pubic hair, saliva tangling with pre-cum. Hot out of the source but cooling rapidly from the moment the droplets are touched by open air.
“Ugh.”
The morning had been windy; he could feel slight irregularities on the chapped lips being dragged over his pulsing, throbbing, sensitive vein. He had this little zone, near the tip, right where the lips had just stopped and began rubbing sideways, fuck, the roughness sparking up what felt like every pleasure-inducing nerve in his body.
“Ooohhh.”
Teeth cushioned by lips alternated between pressing down and opening up, and when they eased off a hot gust of air would breeze out to turn cold on his glistening skin, sending mad shudders up his spine.
“Justin.”
He didn’t need to say it- being able to tell when Brian was close must have been one of the first things Justin learned- but there was something about the name- Justin- that made Brian really want to say it during sex, whether or not he actually was with Justin.
“Just- uhhh.”
The sound of those syllables on his tongue turned him on more than any other name he’d ever uttered during sex (and he can count the number of those he’d had on the finger of one hand and still have digits left over to stick into Justin’s deliciously accommodating ass), so he’d worried about it for a while until he figured that if non-erotic images could tickle the dill pickle of certain people (he’d once fucked a guy who got turned on by mangoes), then maybe a specific combination of sounds could have a similar effect on him. Just his Irish luck that they happened to make up Justin’s name.
“Ugh-ah!”
He felt the tip of his dick hit the back of Justin’s throat, and Brian could no longer stop himself from looking down. Thanks to the desk, all he could see was a blond head on his lap.
(His mind idly conjured up an image of a disembodied Head of Justin following him around and sucking him off at convenient moments, and he attributes the lack of disturbance this picture causes him to traces of E left in his system and Justin’s phenomenal skills at giving head. Hah! Giving head. Fuck, maybe he did need to ease down on the drugs a bit.)
His other hand was cradling it, providing a cushion between scalp and desk; the short fuzz still felt weird under his fingers, and he momentarily mourned long silky locks that he could really dig his fingers into and grip.
“Huuhh…”
He had started panting. Justin’s hands snaked out and grabbed him by the thighs. The head-bobbing became more fervent, going for speed and depth now rather than technique. Brian remembered that Justin had gotten the deep-throating down pat really early on, too; but the thing he did with the muscles in his throat “Yeah, do that…” had definitely not been learned from Brian. Maybe Justin just figured it out, being the creative genius that he was; he found this thought preferable to the alternative, which was Justin learning it from someone else.
“Aaahhh!”
He used the hand holding onto the edge of the desk to keep himself from arching up- Justin’s head had had more than enough contact with wooden objects to last both their lifetimes- as he threw his head back, mouthing gaping open in a soundless shout, eyes clenched shut out of habit. He might have seen stars, but just like in big cities everywhere they were lost in the sharpness of fluorescent lighting the moment he lifted his eyelids.
As he tried to regain his normal breathing, Justin clambered out from underneath the desk to sit on his lap, tucking him in as he did so. He smiled at Brian, obviously pleased, and Brian can’t help but smile back.
(It was a programmed response, like how saying Justin’s name during sex made him hornier.)
Justin busied himself with straightening up Brian’s clothing- not a tell-tale spot or wrinkle on anything, another trick Justin had perfected and the reason why he was the only one Brian would fuck whilst wearing his expensive designer suits- until Brian pulled him close for a kiss.
He tasted himself in Justin’s mouth, but he really wanted the taste of Justin more (simply because Justin tasted amazing, and technically Brian could taste himself anytime he wanted to) so his tongue delved in a little deeper, really working into the heated wetness that was Justin, so that when they finally separated they were both flushed and gasping for air and well on their way to being hard again.
“You know, this showroom is suspiciously empty for the top-rated furniture store in Pittsburgh,” Justin commented, probably as an attempt to diffuse the heat that was effortlessly building up between them again. “Don’t they usually have a salesclerk or something watching the displays, even for rich and handsome potential buyers?”
“They do, usually.” Brian conceded with a nod. “But you saw the size of the whole place. Even with a dozen of them on duty at once they’d still be spread thin. Besides, it’s not like you can sneak out a sofa under your coat.”
Justin grinned. “How much did you pay them to keep away from the office furniture section?” The sound of children’s running around in squeaky sneakers drifted over from the section for home furniture, separated from them by a display of wall panels.
“Not a cent.” At Justin’s disbelieving eyebrow, Brian added, “I fucked the assistant manager last year when I came in to buy a new end table.” He pulled Justin further onto his lap and used a foot to kick off from the desk, sending the revolving office chair spinning around. Justin laughed, bright and child-like as he snuggled up closer to Brian and tucked his legs in so they didn’t hit the desk, and damn if the sight and sound of it didn’t make Brian feel strangely giddy, too, especially with this Cody character stirring up a lot of angry shit that Brian had hoped Justin had forgotten.
He licked at a conveniently close earlobe. “So, Sunshine, which of these fine specimens of overpriced office desks do you think is worthy of the President and CEO of Kinnetic Inc.?”
Justin put on a mock thoughtful expression. “We-ell, let’s review our evaluation process… you bent me over and fucked me on the grainy black one from Brazil, you rimmed me on the grey German import with the revolving mini-table, you sucked me off on the brown hand-carved one from Thailand, and I sucked you off on this Italian-made white one.”
“Beneath it.”
“Right.” Justin shrugged. “I guess it depends on what you want to do when you’re not working. Or whenever I drop by to visit.”
Brian sighed. “Decisions, decisions.” He bit his lip, brows furrowing in thought, then looked at Justin and dragged him down into a kiss to facilitate said thinking process. It was anyone’s guess how long the impromptu make-out session would have gone on for, but only a few minutes later the sound of a throat being cleared forced Brian to release Justin’s hot, distinctly reddened lips. He turned his head and glared at the intruder, who turned out to be the assistant manager ex-fuck. He smirked at how the man appeared torn between ogling them and looking away politely. “Yes?”
“I was just wondering if you required any assistance, sir,” the man said, a little unsteadily but still conveying the suggestion that the ‘assistance’ being offered also included services not found in the standard salesmen’s pamphlet. Since he’d already had him, Brian wasn’t even entertaining the thought, and was further irked when he saw that the man’s eyes were trained on Justin.
“No, we’re doing just fine, thank you,” said Brian haughtily, giving Justin another kiss. It’s not that he felt possessive or anything, but making out had made him hard again and he’d be damned if the kid left him like that in favor of a third-rate fuck, if Brian’s memory served him correctly (and it remembered sex very well). He felt the young man’s lips curl up into a smile against his, and had to deliver a sharp pinch to that delectable bubble butt. Justin jumped a little, biting on Brian’s bottom lip.
“I was just thinking that we should go shopping for stuff more often,” Justin murmured innocently.
“Right.” Brian took another quick taste of that mouth, since it was so close. A momentary glance at the assistant manager showed that the man was looking decidedly uncomfortable. “So, sweetheart,” he drawled, smiling at Justin. “What do you think of the large leg-space of this white one?”
Look at the Prompt Table of Fluff.
Written for the 25fluffyfics challenge.
Title: Desk Job
Author: Etharei
Fandom: Queer as Folk (US)
Characters: Brian/Justin
Prompt: 24 (Writer’s Choice)
Word Count: 1, 447
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Brian and Justin in a furniture store. Fluff served the B/J way.
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Author's Notes: Set between 403 and 404, very slightly spoilerish. Unbeta-ed, PWP.
A hand gripped tightly onto polished wood, long fingers curling into claws, their short manicured nails trying to score some purchase on the smooth surface.
“Ah!”
Liquid trickled down to the base of his cock, catching on his nest of pubic hair, saliva tangling with pre-cum. Hot out of the source but cooling rapidly from the moment the droplets are touched by open air.
“Ugh.”
The morning had been windy; he could feel slight irregularities on the chapped lips being dragged over his pulsing, throbbing, sensitive vein. He had this little zone, near the tip, right where the lips had just stopped and began rubbing sideways, fuck, the roughness sparking up what felt like every pleasure-inducing nerve in his body.
“Ooohhh.”
Teeth cushioned by lips alternated between pressing down and opening up, and when they eased off a hot gust of air would breeze out to turn cold on his glistening skin, sending mad shudders up his spine.
“Justin.”
He didn’t need to say it- being able to tell when Brian was close must have been one of the first things Justin learned- but there was something about the name- Justin- that made Brian really want to say it during sex, whether or not he actually was with Justin.
“Just- uhhh.”
The sound of those syllables on his tongue turned him on more than any other name he’d ever uttered during sex (and he can count the number of those he’d had on the finger of one hand and still have digits left over to stick into Justin’s deliciously accommodating ass), so he’d worried about it for a while until he figured that if non-erotic images could tickle the dill pickle of certain people (he’d once fucked a guy who got turned on by mangoes), then maybe a specific combination of sounds could have a similar effect on him. Just his Irish luck that they happened to make up Justin’s name.
“Ugh-ah!”
He felt the tip of his dick hit the back of Justin’s throat, and Brian could no longer stop himself from looking down. Thanks to the desk, all he could see was a blond head on his lap.
(His mind idly conjured up an image of a disembodied Head of Justin following him around and sucking him off at convenient moments, and he attributes the lack of disturbance this picture causes him to traces of E left in his system and Justin’s phenomenal skills at giving head. Hah! Giving head. Fuck, maybe he did need to ease down on the drugs a bit.)
His other hand was cradling it, providing a cushion between scalp and desk; the short fuzz still felt weird under his fingers, and he momentarily mourned long silky locks that he could really dig his fingers into and grip.
“Huuhh…”
He had started panting. Justin’s hands snaked out and grabbed him by the thighs. The head-bobbing became more fervent, going for speed and depth now rather than technique. Brian remembered that Justin had gotten the deep-throating down pat really early on, too; but the thing he did with the muscles in his throat “Yeah, do that…” had definitely not been learned from Brian. Maybe Justin just figured it out, being the creative genius that he was; he found this thought preferable to the alternative, which was Justin learning it from someone else.
“Aaahhh!”
He used the hand holding onto the edge of the desk to keep himself from arching up- Justin’s head had had more than enough contact with wooden objects to last both their lifetimes- as he threw his head back, mouthing gaping open in a soundless shout, eyes clenched shut out of habit. He might have seen stars, but just like in big cities everywhere they were lost in the sharpness of fluorescent lighting the moment he lifted his eyelids.
As he tried to regain his normal breathing, Justin clambered out from underneath the desk to sit on his lap, tucking him in as he did so. He smiled at Brian, obviously pleased, and Brian can’t help but smile back.
(It was a programmed response, like how saying Justin’s name during sex made him hornier.)
Justin busied himself with straightening up Brian’s clothing- not a tell-tale spot or wrinkle on anything, another trick Justin had perfected and the reason why he was the only one Brian would fuck whilst wearing his expensive designer suits- until Brian pulled him close for a kiss.
He tasted himself in Justin’s mouth, but he really wanted the taste of Justin more (simply because Justin tasted amazing, and technically Brian could taste himself anytime he wanted to) so his tongue delved in a little deeper, really working into the heated wetness that was Justin, so that when they finally separated they were both flushed and gasping for air and well on their way to being hard again.
“You know, this showroom is suspiciously empty for the top-rated furniture store in Pittsburgh,” Justin commented, probably as an attempt to diffuse the heat that was effortlessly building up between them again. “Don’t they usually have a salesclerk or something watching the displays, even for rich and handsome potential buyers?”
“They do, usually.” Brian conceded with a nod. “But you saw the size of the whole place. Even with a dozen of them on duty at once they’d still be spread thin. Besides, it’s not like you can sneak out a sofa under your coat.”
Justin grinned. “How much did you pay them to keep away from the office furniture section?” The sound of children’s running around in squeaky sneakers drifted over from the section for home furniture, separated from them by a display of wall panels.
“Not a cent.” At Justin’s disbelieving eyebrow, Brian added, “I fucked the assistant manager last year when I came in to buy a new end table.” He pulled Justin further onto his lap and used a foot to kick off from the desk, sending the revolving office chair spinning around. Justin laughed, bright and child-like as he snuggled up closer to Brian and tucked his legs in so they didn’t hit the desk, and damn if the sight and sound of it didn’t make Brian feel strangely giddy, too, especially with this Cody character stirring up a lot of angry shit that Brian had hoped Justin had forgotten.
He licked at a conveniently close earlobe. “So, Sunshine, which of these fine specimens of overpriced office desks do you think is worthy of the President and CEO of Kinnetic Inc.?”
Justin put on a mock thoughtful expression. “We-ell, let’s review our evaluation process… you bent me over and fucked me on the grainy black one from Brazil, you rimmed me on the grey German import with the revolving mini-table, you sucked me off on the brown hand-carved one from Thailand, and I sucked you off on this Italian-made white one.”
“Beneath it.”
“Right.” Justin shrugged. “I guess it depends on what you want to do when you’re not working. Or whenever I drop by to visit.”
Brian sighed. “Decisions, decisions.” He bit his lip, brows furrowing in thought, then looked at Justin and dragged him down into a kiss to facilitate said thinking process. It was anyone’s guess how long the impromptu make-out session would have gone on for, but only a few minutes later the sound of a throat being cleared forced Brian to release Justin’s hot, distinctly reddened lips. He turned his head and glared at the intruder, who turned out to be the assistant manager ex-fuck. He smirked at how the man appeared torn between ogling them and looking away politely. “Yes?”
“I was just wondering if you required any assistance, sir,” the man said, a little unsteadily but still conveying the suggestion that the ‘assistance’ being offered also included services not found in the standard salesmen’s pamphlet. Since he’d already had him, Brian wasn’t even entertaining the thought, and was further irked when he saw that the man’s eyes were trained on Justin.
“No, we’re doing just fine, thank you,” said Brian haughtily, giving Justin another kiss. It’s not that he felt possessive or anything, but making out had made him hard again and he’d be damned if the kid left him like that in favor of a third-rate fuck, if Brian’s memory served him correctly (and it remembered sex very well). He felt the young man’s lips curl up into a smile against his, and had to deliver a sharp pinch to that delectable bubble butt. Justin jumped a little, biting on Brian’s bottom lip.
“I was just thinking that we should go shopping for stuff more often,” Justin murmured innocently.
“Right.” Brian took another quick taste of that mouth, since it was so close. A momentary glance at the assistant manager showed that the man was looking decidedly uncomfortable. “So, sweetheart,” he drawled, smiling at Justin. “What do you think of the large leg-space of this white one?”
Look at the Prompt Table of Fluff.