HIS GUILTY PLEASURES
His Guilty Pleasures
Genre: Romance/Oneshot
Rating: PG-13 (just some language & reference to sexual intercourse)
Word Count: around 3000
Couple: Brian/Justin (Queer as Folk)
Time-line: Sometime in between Season 3 & 4 or at least around there
Beta: Nope, just me.
This did not turn out like I wanted it, but I thought I'd share it anyway. Please feel free to comment and give some feedback. Please do be gentle tho haha XDD
It was 2am. Rain pelted against the window of the Kinney loft, a sound that would have lulled anyone to sleep with its steady rhythm. Well, except one Brian Kinney who sat upright, wide-eyed in his bed, his waist downward was covered his royal blue, silk sheets. His face was in deep thought, arms crossed in front of his chest. His body was completely naked (save for the sheets), his body still drenched in sweat and glowing from his previous nightly 'activities', he looked as every bit the Adonis of men and women's fantasies.
The man fit the phrase 'tall, dark, and handsome' to a 'T'. His wavy, chocolate brown hair fell over his perfect face, pearly white teeth, and chiseled chin. His arms rippled with muscle connected to strong shoulders and down his powerful pecks and to a lean, six-packed stomach. His skin perfectly tanned, no unsightly tan lines in place. His brown eyes that could turn almost gold, like a tiger stalking his prey (which is true, he was good at stalking prey).
To top it all off, Brian Kinney was also extremely rich, the top executive in advertising (if his clean and glamorous loft with an amazing view was any indication). With loads of expensive, fitting outfits that only adds to his beauty, when steps into Babylon. He is also promiscuous, spewing sex from his very pores. He could have anyone he wanted in a second. Just one turn of his gorgeous head, made the many of men of Babylon and the streets of Liberty Ave fall at his feet. No bone out place, no blemish in site, not one place he can not reach, Brian Kinney was the definition of perfect.
But what caught this beautiful man's attention at moment was not the rain or the flashes of lightning or the sound of an irritating car alarm just across the street. No, what or rather wh,o has his attention was the other occupant in his bed, a much younger occupant actually.
Laying to left, was a male, Justin Taylor, no older than twenty to Brian's thirty-three (slight cringe). But was just as eye-catching as his bed mate. His silky golden blonde hair partly shielding his lovely face and his closed eyelids that hid crystal blue eyes. The blonde had a cute button nose with full, pink lips meant for kissing. His body, though a bit smaller and still slightly boyish, was just as beautiful. His skin as pale of the moon, that when it was not hiding between groups of angry clouds, made the boy's body look almost ethereal. No, that is what the boy was, he was angelic, almost unreal, inhuman...like he had been made for him.
Jesus, what the fuck? When did I ever become this sappy? Brian thought as he gruffly turned his attention away from the boy beside him, only to end up looking back. He sighed.
You see, Brian Kinney had a little thing called a guilty pleasure.
Well, in truth, he had many. For example, he liked watching old romantic movies, even if he thought love was a farce, a load of bull shit, and that the only thing a man can believe in was a good fuck (and of course, looking young and beautiful forever). And if anyone asked, he could always say that he needed a good laugh. He also loved cats. They were just like him, only coming around for a good rub on the head for a second, only to swat your hand away next and walk off without a care. Hell, he loved to cook, especially pastry. So what? He had a knack for sweets? So sue him.... And that while he was a selfish and egotistic bastard most of the time and his cruel sarcasm can (and did) break a lot of hearts, he did actually CARE about his friends and he did actually LIKE helping them, he liked taking care of them.
Fuck, he just HAD to admit that didn't he? But at least, he somehow could make it sound like it benefited him somehow, and so he did it for himself rather than others.
Of course, there were many others examples. Objects and routines that made him feel guilty and so unlike himself, but gave him the best feeling and sense of comfort than any good fuck could give...
'Okay, not a good fuck, not even close'
But those, while he would never want people to know about them, were all something he could defend easily. Which as the talented advertiser and sexy predator he was, was quite good at making people believe that he didn't give a fuck (which he really didn't). No, it was the ones about the boy sleeping soundly next to him, that were his most guiltiest pleasures of all.
And it wasn't just what the boy did in bed.
'Only that the sex is fucking AMAZING.'
No, Brian could (and does) boost about that, since Justin was his creation. He had the taught boy everything he knows from the moment he took Justin's virginity. And Justin was no doubt, no longer a virgin IN ANY WAY. And he loved that Justin was a sexy, fiery creature in bed and that he was the BEST fuck he has ever had, twink or no. But he would never admit the FEELINGS (feelings?) that Justin could bring out of him, even without sex.
'Right sure. Whatever you say...'
For one, he loved posing for Justin, when inspiration hit the boy at random. Though, he complained at having to stay still or wasting the time he could be spending hitting on some hunk at Babylon, he secretly enjoyed it. Not just because he thought Justin's unique 'eye of the human form' did his amazing body justice (even making him into a comic superhero though he was far from one), but he loved the look on Justin's face when he was concentrating. His tongue sticking cutely out of his mouth, his talent fingers invisibly caressing his body as sketched him on his computer screen, his eyes focused almost like when Justin was giving him the best head of his life. Brian smirked inwardly at that. Since, of course, he would never say, modeling for Justin made him extremely horny.
'Especially when the artist looks like that. And besides artsy types are great in bed, trust me I know.'
Another is that, while he thought Justin looked stunning with any haircut, Brian loved running his fingers through Justin's luscious golden hair. He felt himself toying with it whenever he had a chance especially during sex. He loved the erotic look on Justin's face when he pulled the strands, adding to pain to the mixed of pleasure and pain the boy was already feeling. Just as much he loved to run his fingers through it afterward, easily pulling out the tangles that he himself had caused.
Brian had to stop his hand from touching the silky hair, pulling it back to fold against his chest.
'Sigh....'
He admired Justin's determination. The same determination that got him into Brian's bed in the first place and then in it again and again and again. It was boy's ability to beat the odds (and oh, the many odds that boy did face) and still maintain a smile and gentleness that Brian felt that Brian himself lost long ago or maybe never had. And yes, it was extremely annoying at first. The fact that the boy would constantly follow him everywhere, proclaiming his love for him, clinging to him like love-obsessed-teen he was. But now he found, he loved that determination, that courage, that strength, it is what made Justin, so....Justin.
'Wow, how poetic. Whose writing this, some obsess fan girl? Geez...'
He loved Justin's intelligence, the fact that blonde could play his game like an old pro and matching his wit at every turn. Like the night at Babylon when Justin stole two of his tricks without much effort at all, just a swift shake of his bubble butt, he had those two men drooling all over him. That moment, he realized that this teenager was NO boy, he was a man. A man stuck in a boy's body, struggling to come out. He had never found someone who could meet him on an intellectual level. Yes, Michael and Lindsay and others were all smart in their own right, but Justin was different. Justin, despite being only a twink, was confident, brilliant, eager, and wise behind his years. From the start, he was different; an easy, challenge per say.
'Yea, but could I expect, the boy IS a genius...'
But those weren't even his most guiltiest pleasure. Yes, if his friends were to ever find out about them, he would never hear the end of it. He could imagine Michael smiling his all-knowing smile, with of course a brief flash of jealousy in his eyes. Could picture the evil smirks of Melanie, Emmett, and especially Theodore whom all dream constantly of finding the ONE thing to hold over his head, to laugh at his expense. Could imagine Lindsay and Debbie praising him for admitting that he could actually FEEL something. Which he thought was actually a lot worse than anything other four could throw at him.
But this one was a lot worse, his most sacred guilty pleasure:
Watching Justin sleep.
'…..............'
One nights like this, when Brian found he couldn't sleep, he spent hours watching the naked boy toss and turn, only to end sprawled across Brian's stomach, head resting on his chest. He liked tracing the boy's body with eyes, his mind (and a much lower body part) taking in every twitch, every soft snore, every moan, and burning the image of the innocent expression of the boy in his mind forever. Sometimes, he would just stare at Justin without moving for hours, his legs cramping for sitting up too long. On his more daring days or when nightmares gripped Justin, he would pet the boy's hair or his caress his cheek and forehead, until his hand grew tired from the movement. Or even giving a slight peck on the blonde's button nose or his soft pink lips...
Brian looked thoughtfully into the living room, watching the raindrops slid down the large window pane.
Though, even much, much worse...was the reason why he loved it the most.
“Mmmn...------....”
Startled, Brian broke from his 'guilty' thoughts to turn to the boy next to him. To his horror, he found himself softening at the boy's sweet expression. Justin had a smile on his face, almost as beautiful as the one he wore when he was awake, the reason he was lovingly nicknamed Sunshine (his Sunshine). He had shifted slightly in his sleep, his head resting on Brian's shoulder, his arm slung over Brian's stomach. His mouth moved again, this time Brian leaned in to listen, and heard it perfectly.
“Mmm...Brian...love...you...”
Not able to help himself, Brian smiled fondly. Yes, this was why he loved this the most. This was what he feared that people would find out about. More than the little quirks he loved about Justin....
It was that he loved hearing Justin say his name in his sleep.
Yes, it was a simple thing (dare it be said, romantic?), but that is what made it the most embarrassing. That he spent hours at night, waiting to hear his name whispering from the blonde beauty's lips. Not even to try to get the boy to submit to another round of sex; no sexual intent at all. No, it is because it meant that even in Justin's dreams, where one could not hide their inner most desires, he was still there. That despite his constant fighting against their 'relationship' (in a non-conformist sort of way of course), Justin thought about him in every moment of every day and night. Despite Brian's cruel words and his previous inability to stray from promiscuous lifestyle, Justin still saw him as the center of his universe.
Even worse, he loved when Justin told him he 'loved him', especially like this. Even though, Brian himself could not, no, would not repeat it. And even though, Brian would berate the kid, reminding him that a future with him was like waiting for pigs to fly or world peace or for Michael to become pregnant with Ben's child. But when Justin said it, Brian felt a sense of importance. That only he could insight those feelings in this boy, that no else could. Not even the boy's own numerous conquests, could make the boy feel the way Brian does. Even that violinist. Despite the boy's brief fling with that...that creature (Brian loathed to even think his name), Brian knew that Justin never loved him and his only pull to that creature was his ability to fling that 'love' around making people believe it. Even Justin himself admitted that he never had, no matter how hard he tried, not in the way that he loved Brian.
And that, though Brian would never ever admit, made him feel confident, proud, important, cherished. And he liked feeling that way...
And that made Mr. Brian Kinney, the wealthy, man-killer, feel extremely happy. Made him feel content, loved, emotions that he would never described himself with at all. Gorgeous hunk who is amazing in bed, the best advertiser in the business, the beautiful man in the world, and yes, the occasional “asshole” or “selfish prick” (okay, a lot more than occasional but you get the point). Those were what he would describe himself with....
Now however, he found himself completely whipped, conquered by a boy more than a decade younger than him. Who wanted things Brian thought could not, no, would NEVER give.
Who made him feel emotions that he thought did not, no, could NEVER feel.
Who made him do embarrassing things, yet not actually regret them in the end.
Who made him break his rules at every turn.
Who made him stay up for hours on end, watching him sleep, just to hear his name and the dreaded 'love' word come from those lips.
'Like some love-struck lesbian couple....'
Suddenly, Brian felt a sense of fear and anger rush through him. His body tensing in defensive mode and arms crossing against his chest, in a protective fashion. God, he hated this...
He hated feeling this way. He wanted to run, wanted to push Justin away like he always does. To shove the boy out of the bed, make him pack his suitcase, ignore the boy's tears and pained words, and send him out in the cold rain. He wouldn't need to worry either. Justin had his mother and Debbie to go to. He would be fine and so would Brian. He could go back to his constant flings without having to worry about coming home to anyone. Then he wouldn't have to feel these things, that even now they scared him, scared him to death...
But he couldn't. Not now. Because as much he hated admitting these annoying pleasures to himself, he hated seeing Justin cry more.
Hated not being the boy's artistic muse.
Hated seeing the boy smile that sunny smile at someone that was not him.
Hated imagining Justin sleeping next to, kissing, loving someone who wasn't him.
He had hated the nights when Justin was not with him, hated not being able to see the amazing boy, no man, so vulnerable and completely his.
Hating the fear that something will happen and he'll see never the boy, his Sunshine, again.
Hated not experiencing these guilty pleasures because it was, indeed, the best high that no other drug or the greatest orgasm could ever give him: this rush of extreme pleasure that was worth receiving, despite the fear of being found out or admitting that Brian Kinney is indeed human.
With that, Brian's muscle loosed and he let out the last of his frustrations with a sigh. No, he couldn't back to that time again. Where Justin was no longer his, that was worse than anything Melanie or Ted could throw at him.
No, he couldn't do that anymore. He realized that, after three years and almost losing Justin twice, that while he may not be able to say the words or completely break ALL of his ideals (at least not yet), he could enjoy just watching and being with the amazing blonde without having to say anything, at least for now. He could and should enjoy these moments.
And that was enough for Brian, who decided that, for now, that he could indulge in his guilty pleasures for all its worth. Especially this one, where not even the object of his affection would know the truth. And that it's okay to have these kinds of pleasure, because he didn't have to admit them, that's what made them guilty.
If someone should find out, he would just say that he enjoyed his time at night because it was only time Justin didn't talk about love and marriage and such. He would say that the rain would make him anxious, so he can't sleep. Say that he was looking at spot that Justin left during their earlier activities. At least, those will work for awhile. And then he wouldn't have to admit just yet. Admit that he...that he loved Justin, more than anyone, more than anything.
That Justin Taylor was his one and only guilty pleasure.
A slight shift next him, a melodic voice whispered once again:
“Brian...I...love...”
'Yea I know, Sunshine. Me too.' And with a light peck on the boy's pretty head, Brian slipped down into the sea of blankets, resting his head on Justin's, quickly fell into a deep sleep. His body exhausted, his mind finally at peace.
Unbeknownst to him, Justin smiled, almost if he read the man's very thought. I know your secret, but I'll let it slide, for now. Then Justin also drifting off to sleep, hoping to meet Brian in the dream world.
A guilty pleasure is something one enjoys and feels pleasure from despite the guilt that resides from the fear of someone finding out about it.
Brian Kinney has one, a big one, and its name is Justin Taylor.
*******
Okay so that really did not turn out like I wanted *sigh* The ending seems really rushed and what started out as a short description of Brian's favorite pastime of watching Justin sleep, turned into to some kind of shrink-probing of Brian by me LOL
But I really couldn't mess with it any longer, otherwise I'd go insane. So sorry if it doesn't make much sense at the end, and sorry that there isn't much dialogue...I suck at it, so I prefer to be extremely descriptive and make long paragraphs XP
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway. And yay for my first QAF fic! Maybe I'll get better at wrting them in the future ;D