Author's Notes: I distinctly remember saying something in my last chapter about definitely not taking a month to update... well I suppose in a round a bout way I kinda kept my promise... I took two months instead! Hee hee. Real life has been getting in the way (darn it), and when I do finally get on to my computer I am very very very easily distracted... most often by Princess or Kelsey, heh heh. So, basically, I'm saying 'blame them'! (Just kidding =P). I suppose as compensation this chapter is about 8000 words long (biggest chapter I've ever written!) AND it has no cliffhanger (praise Jesus) AND, as promised, it's got some hot hot man!sex. Also as compensation, here is a link to a video that I made to accompany the fic. Click here. (It's basically a combination of B/J lovin' and hot Vanished clips with Gale running around in slow motion, lol. =]) So enjoy, and don't kill me for not updating very quickly!
June 3rd Pittsburgh – Rosewood Safe House 5:35pm Justin squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to concentrate on something other than the unimaginable terror that pulsed through his veins. He wished that somehow the wall behind him could simply absorb his body, and save him from this gun-wielding maniac. Attempting to block out the sinister thud from the man’s advancing footsteps, the blond hunched his shoulders and tried to make himself as small as possible. Every minute sound was amplified by Justin’s panic-stricken mind, and even the click of the safety mechanism on the man’s gun seemed to echo loudly through the silence. The blond immediately held his breath and tensed his body, bracing himself for the pain that he knew was about to come. A deafening gunshot suddenly ripped though the air, and Justin realized that this was it. He was going to die. Expecting to feel a bullet tearing through his skin, a hushed scream escaped the blond’s lips as he raggedly gasped out the breath that he had been holding. But there was no bullet, and there was no pain. Justin remained unscathed and breathing heavily, curled up against the wall, wondering why he wasn’t dead and what the fuck was going on. All of a sudden, raucous noise bombarded his senses, and Justin quickly opened his eyes to find a group of five heavily armed people flooding the room, and his attacker lying motionless on the floor. An overwhelming sensation of relief washed over the blond, as he read the clearly printed white letters of ‘FBI’ that covered the front of the agents’ black body armor. He felt even more relieved, if that was possible, when he noticed that one of the bullet-proof vests was worn by none other than Brian. “Bri… Brian,” the blond tried to attract the older man’s attention, but his voice betrayed him, and it was no more than a hoarse whisper. With great effort, Justin began to get to his feet, knowing that if he could just get to Agent Kinney, he’d be safe. “Justin, stay down,” Brian ordered, striding in to the room, one hand gesticulating at the blond, the other securely fastened around his gun. Two agents were already moving from behind Brian to gather around the bloody and lifeless body of Gerald, while the other’s continued to follow him deeper in to the room, closer to the face down form of Justin’s attacker. A sudden and unexpected exhalation of breath, huffed out from the apparently unconscious man, compelled Brian to warily place the other hand on his weapon, steadying his aim so that he could get a clear shot if need be. As the man began to stir, Justin realized, with alarm, that his ruthless attacker was still alive. Fear and anxiety welled up inside the blond and finally spilled over in the form of small tears, which streamed down the side of his face, mixing with the blood that already lingered there. “Are you hurt?” Brian asked, not able to take his eyes off the slowly writhing body of the guy on the floor, but needing to know why the younger man was crying. The blond couldn’t trust his voice, so he didn’t answer, resolving to watch Brian expertly kick away the unidentified man’s weapon instead. “Justin,” Brian repeated, louder this time and more urgently, imploring the blond to answer, “Are you hurt?” “Just… just my head… he… hit me… with… with…” Justin trailed off, pressing his right hand to the wound, unconsciously trying to explain what his stuttered words could not. “It’s okay,” Brian reassured the blond, “Just stay right there.” Before Justin knew what was happening, Brian was skilfully straddling the back of his attacker, checking the man for any other weapons and pulling his arms back to be handcuffed. “Fuck! Get the fuck off me!” the man suddenly cried out, trying to jerk his arms out of Brian’s grasp. “You’re hurting me! Motherfucker!” Unperturbed by the yells of pain, Brian held the guy’s arms tighter and resumed cuffing him. Justin’s eyes widened in shock, as his attacker powerfully thrashed about on the carpet underneath the special agent. “Stop moving and calm down,” the Brian demanded, enunciating each word, when the man viciously attempted to kick him. “Fucking get off me!” the guy shouted, squirming against the brunet’s grip more vigorously. “I’ll sue the crap out of you! You’re hurting me!” “I shot you in the fucking shoulder,” Brian replied unsympathetically, yanking the man’s arm to make him stand up, “Stop making such a damn fuss.” “You really shouldn’t be hurting him like that, Brian,” Ethan complained, at last stepping forward to help with the aggressive man. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Brian frowned, annoyed that Ethan hadn‘t helped him with the belligerent man in the slightest, but felt that he had the authority to criticize. “I forgot that I was meant to treat murderers with common courtesy and politeness.” The brunet held firmly on to the guy’s injured shoulder, partly to control him, partly to show Ethan that he didn’t take orders from anyone. “You got this?” Brian asked sarcastically, as he shoved the man in Ethan’s direction. “Sure,” Ethan replied, grasping the guy’s handcuffed hands, and trying to pull him along. Brian smirked as he watched Ethan struggle with the almost uncontrollable man, knowing that the egotistical agent had completely underestimated the persistence and strength of someone that had just been shot. When Brian was sure that Special Agent Gold and the profusely cursing man had left the room, he knelt down beside a trembling and somewhat teary-eyed Justin. The younger man desperately wanted Brian to put his strong, safe arms around his shaking body and hold him close, but he knew, without a doubt, that hard-ass Special Agent Brian Kinney would never do such a thing, especially with a room full of his FBI colleagues. Instead, Brian covered the blond’s hand, which was still pressed to the wound, with his own, and gently pulled it away. “Let me take a look,” he requested softly, peering carefully at the substantial gash that sliced through the flawless skin of the younger man’s head. With the brunet otherwise occupied, and blocking his view of the rest of the room, Justin had no choice but to silently stare at him. The blond couldn’t believe, even at a time like this, how incredibly beautiful the older man looked, dressed in his standard-issue black bullet-proof vest and a rare expression of concern present on his face. By concentrating on Brian’s wonderfully strong body pressed up so close against him, Justin began to calm down significantly, finding that simply being close to Brian was just as good as being held in a tight embrace. “There’s lots of blood,” the younger man ventured after a while, immediately regretting saying something that sounded so ridiculously obvious. “There always is with a head wound,” Brian responded matter-of-factly, taking some gauze out of his pocket and using it to apply pressure to the wound. “Ow! Fuck! It stings,” Justin whimpered, not expecting so much pain, from what appeared to be such a shallow cut. “Stop being such a fucking drama princess, it’s barely a scratch,” Brian grumbled, pulling back the dressing to make sure that it was reducing the blood flow. Justin’s misty blue eyes stared intently back at him, and once again, the FBI agent felt oddly guilt-ridden for being so harsh with the blond. “You’re going to need stitches,” the older man concluded, his tone notably softer, as he replaced the gauze back on the wound, and motioned for Justin to get to his feet. Once they were both standing, Brian wrapped his free arm securely around the blond’s shoulders, taking most of his weight off the younger man’s feet. Justin’s legs were trembling so much, that the brunet was sure that if he weren’t supporting the blond, he would simply fall over. “Are you okay?” Brian asked tentatively, letting his eyes scan over the blond, speculating as to whether Justin had been injured someplace other than his head. “Oh, yeah, fine,” the blond smiled faintly, also assessing himself for damage. “I think my legs have gone to sleep, though. I’ve been sitting on them for so long.” “Do you think that you’ll be able to walk to my jeep?” Brian asked, a hint of sarcasm present in his voice. “Why?” Justin’s smile faded, and was quickly replaced with wide eyes and a look of fear, as feelings of apprehension rose up inside him. “Where are we going?” “Well, last time I checked, to get stitches for a head-wound, you have to go to a hospital,” the older man answered, helping the blond toward the door. “No,” Justin hastily stopped walking and tried to remove himself from Brian’s firm hold. “I don’t want to go.” “Justin, you’re going to see a fucking doctor, or I’ll stitch that up myself, and you don’t want me doing that.” Brian insisted. “I tried to sew up a hole in my Armani pants once, ended up having to throw them in the trash, they were in such a fucking state. Now, come on.” Placing his arm on Justin’s shoulder once more, Brian pushed the blond forward decisively, leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to be there with me though, right?” Justin persisted, feeling so panicky that he didn’t want to go anywhere without Brian there to protect him. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” the brunet raised his eyebrow, perturbed by how anxious and traumatized the blond seemed. It suddenly struck Brian that seeing several guys shot and, or, murdered in one day, might be slightly traumatic for someone that wasn’t used to it. Guns, criminals and death were a standard part of being an FBI agent, and he had essentially forgot what it was like to be a regular civilian. Hell, he’d just shot a guy himself and didn’t feel in the least bit remorseful or worried. Brian appreciated that Justin simply wasn’t used to incidents like this, so he decided that he should probably cut the blond some slack. He gave Justin his best reassuring smile, and courteously held open the jeep door so that the younger man could climb inside. After the slightest bit of hesitation, Justin hauled himself in to the passenger seat, and allowed Brian to noisily slam the door shut. As Brian made he way around the jeep to the drivers' side, it dawned on him that if he had to keep up this irritatingly lesbianic chivalrous act for much longer, he may never get a hard-on again. Pittsburgh – Allegheny General 6:50pm “Two visits to a hospital in less than twenty-four hours, that must be some kind of record, Sunshine,” Brian smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t count, because the first time I was here to see my mom,” Justin replied, hoping that he’d managed to conceal how incredibly nervous he felt. “We can go see how she’s doing, after you get your stitches, if you want,” Brian offered. “Thanks,” Justin responded distractedly, forcing a smile, but looking around the ER waiting room warily, as though he were expecting someone to jump out and attack him. The brunet followed Justin’s gaze around the busy chair area, trying to spot what the blond was looking at. At first, Brian assumed that the younger man simply felt uncomfortable because most of the ER waiting room inhabitants were staring at them. It wasn’t every day you saw someone dressed in black FBI body armor with an assortment of weapons attached to their belt, sitting in an ER waiting room. Brian soon noticed, however, that the blond’s line of sight extended past the waiting area, and toward the ER’s main desk and ambulance entrance. “You know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, right?” the brunet asked, placing a hand on Justin‘s back and rubbing it reassuringly. The blond stopped his vigilant searching of the ER, to peer up at the FBI agent. “I guess,” Justin answered, repositioning the gauze that was still pressed to his forehead. “I mean it,” Brian insisted, squeezing the younger man‘s shoulder to emphasize his point. Justin stared in to the brunet’s hazel eyes, noting the absolute sincerity that resided in their luscious depths, and realised that as long as he had Agent Kinney to protect him, nothing bad would happen. “Brian-” Justin was about to ask the older man what the actual likelihood of someone trying to murder him again was, when he heard his name being called. “Justin Taylor?” A rather bewildered looking doctor, in blue scrubs and a short, white lab coat, looked up from his chart to scan his eyes across the array of people that currently sat in chairs. “Come on,” Brian encouraged, standing up and motioning for Justin to do the same. Thankful that someone had finally responded to his name calling, the doctor quickly made his way over to the men. “Justin Taylor?“ He asked once more, looking up at Brian. “He’s Justin Taylor,” Brian raised his eyebrow and pointed at the blond. “You would have thought that the gauze and the cut in his head may have given that away.” The sheepish doctor became even more flustered at Brian’s comment and managed to drop his chart. “Oh, erm, of course, erm,” he stuttered, bending down to pick up the clipboard. Brian smirked. He never had any idea that hospitals could be such entertaining places, especially when there were nervous doctors to torment. “Can you, erm, follow me, please?” the doctor asked, standing up and hurriedly striding down the hall. As they followed the doctor through the curtain areas and corridors of the ER to the Suture Room, Justin had to fight the urge to grab Brian’s arm and hold on to it for dear life. The blond was sure that this supposed medical professional was outrageously incapable of looking after him, and it was doing nothing to help subdue his anxiety. After what seemed like a lifetime of walking, they finally came to a door with a white sign which read ’Suture Room’. It took all of Justin‘s depleted willpower to make himself actually walk through the doorway, and enter the foreboding room. His mind was screaming at him to run back down the corridors, out in to the ambulance bay, and to keep going, until he was as far away from this doctor and the hospital as possible. Eventually, Justin managed to force the rational part of his brain to dull the illogical thoughts, and he walked forward slowly, feeling as though his feet were sticking to the black and white tiled floor with every step. “Please, sit,” the doctor motioned to the gurney in the middle of a small curtained area. Justin hesitated, making sure that Brian was close by, before sitting down awkwardly on the clinical blue sheets of the metal framed bed. Brian positioned himself between the gurney and the door, adequately close to Justin, so that he could offer the blond support, but far away enough to monitor the comings and goings of the people in the corridor outside the room. “So, Doctor-” Brian began, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Oh, I’m not a doctor,” the man replied hastily. “I’m a med student.” “Great,” Brian growled under his breath. Was it really to much to ask for someone who was remotely competent to look after Justin? “Are you sure that you’re qualified to be suturing up real people, instead of practising on cadavers or something?” the brunet remarked loudly. The medical student didn’t answer, assuming that it was a rhetorical question, but laughed nervously, fumbling with the suture kit that he was currently preparing to sew up Justin‘s head with. Sensing that the FBI agent was still staring disapprovingly at him, the man decided that he should probably say something to his reassure them of his qualifications. “I’ve been doing my ER rotation for almost a month now,” he beamed, placing his successfully prepped kit on the metal medical tray beside Justin. “How nice for you,” Brian frowned, unconsciously placing his hands on his hips, drawing attention to the assortment of gadgets and weapons that were fastened to the large, black leather belt around his waist. “Lie back for me,” the med student instructed the blond, pulling on some latex gloves, and trying to ignore the intimidating FBI agent that was watching him like a hawk. Justin pulled the gauze away from his head and proceeded to reposition himself so that he was lying on the gurney. “Okay, first I‘m going to irrigate the wound,” the medical student said, placing a blue drape across the blond‘s face, leaving only the cut exposed. Justin closed his eyes, not quite sure if he trusted this man enough to let him loose with medical instruments on his head. Once the medical student actually began to flush out the wound with saline though, the blond realised that it wasn’t so bad after all, and started to relax. It was only when the man said, “Okay, you’re going to feel a small prick,” that Justin tensed again. Brian’s hushed laughter at the medical student’s comment, however, made him calm down, and he barely felt the needle as it injected a small dose of local anaesthetic in to his skin. Ten minutes, some useless advice on concussion, and three stitches later, Brian and Justin had left the ER suture room, and were making their way up to Jennifer’s recovery room on the surgical floor. “Your mom’s going to rip me a new asshole,” Brian groaned, grimacing at the newly sutured laceration that was an ugly reminder of the days events, etched in Justin’s otherwise perfect skin. “You saved my life, Brian, and hers,” Justin reassured the older man, “I’m sure she’ll care more about that, than a small cut in my head.” “You really don’t know your mother very well, do you?” Brian smirked, pressing the third floor elevator button. “She’ll take one look at those stitches, and kill me, even in her incapacitated state.” “My mom isn’t that bad,” Justin insisted. “She is where her wittle sonny boy is concerned,” the brunet teased. The elevator doors slid open, and the men stepped out on to the surgical floor, walking quickly, both anxious to see Jennifer. “Mom,” Justin exclaimed, almost running through the recovery room door toward his mother, surprised to find her awake and sitting up in bed. “Justin?” Jennifer asked, still rather sleepy from being sedated. “Yeah, mom,” Justin clasped her hand in his own, stroking it softly. “It’s me. I’m here.” As an after thought, the blond decided to add, “Brian’s here too.” Taking this as his cue, the older man stepped forward, so that he was standing behind the blond. “Hi, Jen,” he simply greeted his boss, not quite sure what to say, but knowing enough to assume that it wasn’t the time to bombard her with questions. “How are you feeling?” Justin asked, sitting in the chair next to the bed, and scanning his mom’s medical paraphernalia covered body. “I’m okay,” Jennifer said quietly, her voice slightly slurred as she spoke. “I think some bastard shot me, though.” A small laugh escaped Justin’s lips, at hearing the literal way in which his mother described what had happened. “He’s an ex-bastard now,” Brian stated absentmindedly. It unnerved him to see his boss so weak and out of it from the copious amount of drugs that flowed through her system. “Brian, this is Justin, my son,” Jennifer babbled proudly. “Isn’t he handsome?” “Oh, he’s handsome alright,” Brian replied, partially to humor Jennifer and partially because he agreed with her. “Oh, my God!” Jennifer suddenly exclaimed, haphazardly grabbing at Justin’s face and pulling him closer to her. “What happened to your head?!” “It’s nothing, mom. Don’t worry,” Justin shrugged and tried to pry himself from his mother’s grasp. “Brian, I want you to place him under FBI protection,” Jennifer announced, wincing as she settled back against the pillows behind her. “Better still, I think that you should protect him. I don’t want you to let him out of your sight. Can you do that for me, Brian? Please?” “Sure, Jen,” the brunet promised, hoping that if he went along with his boss’s demands, that she would calm down. “I don’t want you taking him to one of those shitty safe houses,” Jennifer continued, pointing at Brian with authority. “Take him back to your loft. Then you can really keep an eye on him. That‘s an order.” “Yes, Jennifer,” Brian sighed, knowing that even in her drug-inhibited state, his boss meant what she said. “Mom?” Justin soothed, noticing that his mom’s eyes were flickering open and shut. “Are you okay?” “Sure, honey,” Jennifer yawned. “I’m just a little bit tired. I think I need to get some sleep.” “That sounds like a good idea,” Brian remarked under his breath. “I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” Justin gently kissed his mother’s cheek and stood up ready to leave. “Alright,” Jennifer smiled. “And don’t worry, sweetie. Brian will look after you,” she informed the blond, before letting her eyes fall closed. The men swiftly exited the room, leaving Jennifer to sleep. “Do you think she meant what she said, or was it just the drugs talking?” Justin asked, pausing to look one last time at his mom through the window of her recovery room. “What? Doesn‘t she usually call you ‘sweetie’,” Brian replied in a falsetto voice, making a joke to mask the fact that he didn’t actually know what part of his mother’s ramblings the younger man was referring to. “Asshole,” Justin laughed. “No, I mean, do you really think that she wanted me to stay with you?” Justin turned away from the window to gaze enquiringly at the brunet. “Well, I was planning on letting you do that anyway,” Brian admitted, the corners of his lips turning up in a barely noticeable smile. “Really?” Justin couldn’t tell if Brian was just teasing him again. “Sure,” the agent nodded, as they began walking down the hall to the elevator. “Like your mom said, those safe houses are for shit, and I wouldn’t trust anyone to look after you now but myself. Besides, I can‘t ignore a direct order from the Special Agent in Charge, can I?” “Will they let you do that?” The blond wasn’t entirely convinced that the FBI allowed this kind of thing. “What do you mean ‘they’? I‘m the most senior agent at the Field Office, apart from your mom, so I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I want. ‘They’ take orders from me.” “So, I really get to stay with you?” Justin hastily removed the thought from his mind that he should get pistol whipped by maniacs more often, if it meant that he got to spend the night with hot FBI agents. “I just said that you could, didn’t I?” Brian retorted. “I’ll have to make a few calls, but it should be pretty easy to get the clearance.” “Great,” Justin replied, a little more enthusiastically then he had originally intended. “I mean, um, thanks.” “Superfluous gratitude makes my dick soft,” the brunet stated, as they stepped in to the elevator. Justin pressed the button for the ground floor, and the two men stood in impatient silence as the doors slid closed and the elevator slowly descended. Pittsburgh – Brian’s Loft 8:45pm Justin swept his inquisitive blue eyes over the overwhelming expanse of expensive Italian fixtures, polished wood and stainless steel of Brian’s loft. It was the most stunning and extravagant apartment that he had ever set foot it, and the blond thought that it mirrored its equally stunning and extravagant owner perfectly. “Go ahead and make yourself at home,” Brian gesticulated to his large cream-colored couch, whilst kicking off his shoes and making his own way in to the kitchen area. “But not too much at home,” the brunet added as an after thought, “Those are Italian sofa’s.” Justin walked cautiously across the wood flooring, painfully aware that his sneakers were making a loud squeaking sound as they slid over the polished surface. “Do you want something to drink?” Brian asked, rummaging around in the fridge, and pulling out a bottle of Evian. He would have preferred something significantly stronger to drink than mineral water, but with his present company, the FBI agent figured that it was probably best to lay off the alcohol, at least for the next few hours. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Justin replied, standing beside the couch and wondering whether he should really sit down on what looked like an insanely expensive piece of furniture. “You can actually sit down, you know,” Brian smirked, as though he knew what the blond was thinking. Justin’s embarrassed laughter was cut short, when Brian began to unfasten his bullet-proof vest, pulling it over his head, and unceremoniously dumping it on the metallic kitchen counter. The blond stared, unable to sit, talk, move or do anything, completely mesmerized by the aura of pure sex that this gorgeous man emitted. Brian’s auburn hair was perfectly tousled from the removal of his body armor, and the shirt that he wore was adhered to his body with sweat, revealing almost every contour of his perfectly toned body. “Are you okay?” Brian remarked, tearing the blond from his thoughts. Justin nodded, swallowing tensely as he tried to pry his eyes away from the breath-taking sight before him. “You sure?” Brian persisted, as he began to unbutton his shirt, knowing that he was captivating the younger man with his provocative show. It wasn’t a conscious decision on Brian’s part to seduce Justin, more force of habit. Almost every person that the brunet brought to the loft was there for the sole purpose of Brian fucking them. It was only natural that in the presence of this highly attractive young man, that Brian’s brain would automatically assume it had to go in to seduction mode. It simply couldn’t distinguish between the beautifully sexy blond, and the men that he usually brought home. “I’m fine,” Justin finally managed to blurt out, sitting down heavily on the couch, and willing himself not to look at the half-clothed FBI agent. The sides of Brian’s mouth curved up slightly in a satisfied smile around the of the rim of the bottle as he took a sip of the water. “Okay, just checking,” Brian smirked. “Wouldn’t want you to throw up, or pass out on my couch. Or,” the brunet paused, pretending to be deep in thought, “What were those other wonderful symptoms of concussion that doctor, I mean mister Murphy gave us?” “Shut up, Brian. He really wasn’t that bad,” Justin smiled, attentively following Brian, with his eyes, as the older man walked across the room. “Yeah, I suppose he wasn’t that bad,” the brunet mused, casually sitting down beside Justin, and taking another gulp of water. “I just wish you’d seen his face when you said that you were allergic to Tylenol. To say that he looked like a deer in headlights is an understatement.” Justin laughed softly, preoccupied with the thought of Brian sitting right next to him. He stole fleeting glances at the older man’s beautiful body, not wanting the brunet to realise what he was doing, even though it blatantly obvious, to Brian’s well trained eye, that Justin was checking him out. Relaxing back in to the couch, Brian allowed the material of his unbuttoned Armani shirt to fall to either side, revealing even more of his well-toned and tanned torso. Not wanting to embarrass himself by saying something stupid, Justin sat on the very edge of the sofa, in complete silence, trying his best to ignore the brunet’s partial nakedness. Unusually disconcerted by the lack of conversation that was going on between himself and Justin, Brian began to absent-mindedly pick at the label on his bottle of water. He had just made a rather satisfying tear right down the centre of the ‘v’ in Evian, when he heard a clear, but barely audible statement from the blond beside him. “You know, picking at the label of a bottle is supposed to mean that you are sexually frustrated.” “What?” Brian knew exactly what Justin had said, he just wanted to see if the younger man had the audacity to repeat it. “Nothing,” Justin quickly replied, suddenly aware that he shouldn’t have said something like that to an FBI agent, let alone an FBI agent like Brian Kinney. “Oh,” Brian paused for effect. “Because for a moment it sounded like you said I was sexually frustrated.” “I… erm… shit… I…” Justin stammered, worried that he had pissed Brian off. “The only reason I’d be remotely sexually frustrated, Sunshine, is because I have a hot blond staying in my loft and I’m not allowed to fuck him.” Justin didn’t quite know how to reply. He searched for something to say, but mostly his brain was concentrating on the fact that Brian had insinuated he was hot. An awkward five minutes of silence swept over the men, as neither could work out what to say to the other. Eventually, Brian murmured a, “Fuck this, I need a drink,” and got up from the couch to set off in the direction of his fully stocked liquor cart. He quickly picked up the ever present bottle of Jim Beam, and poured himself half a glass. There was a moment of slight hesitation, before Brian tipped the entire contents of the glass down his throat, grimacing against the familiar burning sensation. As soon as the liquid had been consumed, Brian hurriedly poured himself another. Abruptly remembering the presence of a certain blond in the room, the older man looked back at the couch to find a wide-eyed and eyebrow-raised Justin looking back at him. “You want one?” the older man gestured with his glass, not being able to think of anything else to say. Frowning, Justin considered the offer, wondering if Brian was serious. “Well?” the older man looked enquiringly at the blond, and picked up an empty glass. “Fuck yeah,” Justin replied, his voice sounding a little more uncertain than he had meant it to. Brian rolled his eyes in a way that seemed to say ‘fucking teenagers’, and poured out another half-glass of the bourbon whiskey. He made his way back to the couch, two glasses and the bottle carefully balanced in his arms. He sat down heavily on the Italian sofa, and held out one of the glasses to Justin, who eagerly accepted. “Just don’t tell your mother,” Brian warned, pointing at the blond sternly. “Oh, please, I’m twenty one,” Justin retorted, clinking glasses with the older man and quickly downing the amber colored liquid. “But you look and behave so much younger,” Brian teased, knocking back his own drink. “Fuck you,” Justin laughed, holding out his glass for a refill. “Besides, I’ve had way more to drink at one of Daphne’s parties. Last summer, we got so wasted that I could barely find my way home.” “Why, aren’t you the little party animal,” Brian replied sarcastically. “And by ‘last summer’, I assume that you mean when you were twenty, and under the legal drinking age? You really shouldn’t be telling a federal agent that.” “Why? What are you going to do? Arrest me?” Justin taunted, as the brunet poured out yet more of the whiskey. “No, but I bet your mom had something to say about it, when you came home drunk.” “She never found out,” Justin recounted proudly. “I woke up in the morning with a terrible hangover, and when she asked what was wrong I blamed my allergies.” Brian gave a huffed laugh. “Oh, the joys of youth. Sneaking around, not telling your parents what shit you‘ve been up to.” “Well, you never told my mom that you kissed me,” the blond declared, taking a sip of his drink. “I believe it was you that kissed me, Sunshine,” Brian corrected defensively, eyebrow raised. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have let me stay here if she knew,” Justin continued, his inhibitions reduced by the alcohol. “Look,” Brian frowned, “The only reason I kissed you, is because I wanted to stop you crying. That’s it.” “Sure it is,” Justin smirked. “And I suppose that’s why you gave me a strip show when we first came in? To cheer me up?” Brian was astounded, he’d never had anyone talk back to him like this. “I wasn’t giving you a strip show! I was taking my body armor off for fucks sake,” he protested vehemently, hoping to shut the blond up. “I can’t help it if horny teenagers, like you, want to put a sexual connotation on everything.” “I’m twenty one!” Justin insisted adamantly. “Then behave like it, or I’ll take your drink away,” the older man smirked, pleased that he finally had the upper hand in the situation. This somewhat drunk, confident Justin was a complete handful, and he was having trouble keeping up with him. The thought even passed through Brian’s mind that it would have been better if the younger man hadn’t bounced back quite so rapidly from being worried and anxious about someone attacking him. “Fine,” Justin huffed, gulping back the rest of his drink in one swallow. “This is your last one,” Brian warned, filling two thirds of the blond’s glass. Justin gave the older man an exasperated look, and made a point of only taking tiny sips from his drink. “How did you know?” the blond asked suddenly. “Know what?” “That the safe house was no longer… safe.” “That’s classified information,” Brian retorted, not willing to admit that he had been avidly watching the surveillance feed of Justin for most of the day. “Come on. I think I have a right to know,” the blond persisted. “I have three stitches in my head thanks to that safe house.” “I can’t tell you. It would be a break in protocol.” “Please?” Justin begged, flashing his best smile and widening his amazing blue eyes. “Alright,” Brian relented, “But you’re not allowed to repeat this information.” Justin nodded fervently, so the older man continued. “I had Theodore, a.k.a. the most boring FBI Decryption Specialist you’ll ever meet, set up my computer so that it would receive live video footage from the safe house. I noticed that two of the patrolling agents had disappeared, and when we tried to get them to radio in, there was no answer. Something didn’t seem right, so I ordered the tact team to get their asses over there. I suppose you know the rest.” “So you were watching me?” Justin asked nervously, worried that Brian had seen what he was sketching. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sunshine. I was watching the safe house. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s my job,” Brian answered sarcastically, hoping that the younger man couldn‘t tell he was lying. He would never admit to anyone that he did something so incredibly lesbianic as spending most of his day simply watching the gorgeous blond draw. “So, if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead,” Justin mumbled, his voice unexpectedly quiet and filled with emotion. “Stop being such a drama princess,” Brian stated, swallowing his fifth glass of Jim Beam. “We don’t know that.” “But that man was going to kill me. If you hadn’t showed up when you did…” the blond trailed off, the alcohol in his system making him overwhelmed all of a sudden. “Shit,” he whispered when a two small but distinctive tears escaped from his eyes and trickled down the side of his face. He quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket, not wanting to seem like a weak faggot in front of Brian, even though he knew that he’d already cried in front of the man twice already. “I need another drink,” he sniffed, reaching across Brian to get the bottle. “No way, sonny boy,” Brian frowned, holding the Jim Beam out of Justin’s reach. “You’ve had more than enough.” “Brian! Just one more,” the blond pleaded, trying to grab the bottle from the older man. A significant amount of struggling ensued, where Brian tried his best to keep the whiskey out of a determined Justin’s grasp. As a last resort, the blond straddled Brian’s legs to stop him from moving, so that he could finally snatch away the bottle. The object of his desire was soon forgotten, however, when he realised that he was, in fact, sitting on Agent Kinney’s lap. The two men paused, and stared at each other. Blue and hazel eyes watching intently. The intense passion and lust that had been bubbling under the surface suddenly erupted, and Justin swiftly bent forward, pressing his lips forcefully against Brian’s. The older man returned the kiss with just as much fervour, slipping his tongue in to the blond’s mouth, and closing his eyes in concentration. Justin slid his hand over the side of the brunet’s face, caressing along the light stubble of Brian’s jaw line, and pulling him even deeper in to the kiss. Their crotches rubbed together with a delicious friction, and both men could feel their hearts beating rapidly. Brian ran his hands up and down Justin’s back, encouraging the blond to move his hips, so that he was softly thrusting against the older man’s lap. “Brian,” Justin moaned softly in to the agent‘s mouth. His arms snaked up the brunet’s back and neck, so that he could press Brian closer and closer to his body. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, the men drew apart. Both were panting with the arousal, and a sheen of sweat coated their foreheads, ruffling their hair. Feeling Brian’s unmistakable hard-on underneath him, Justin leant forward again, eager for a second round of enthusiastic kissing. “Wait,” Brian swallowed, making direct eye contact with the blond. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” It was almost laughable that Brian Kinney, of all people, was trying to be the voice of reason where something like this was concerned. Considering some of the things he’d done in the past, fucking his boss’s son, and the person that he was assigned to protect, wasn‘t really that big of a deal. “Why not?” Justin asked, licking his lips seductively, and grinding himself against the brunet‘s lap. “Because there are rules, and… I… I…” Brian trailed off, his mind clouded by lust and alcohol. “But I want you,” the blond whispered in to the older man’s ear, trailing his tongue down the sensitive lobe. Normally, Brian would have wrestled with his conscience for a little longer before giving in, but tonight he was simply too tired, too frustrated and too horny. “Oh, fuck it,” he moaned, claiming the blond’s plump lips once more, sucking, licking, and kissing them with abandon. If he was going to fuck this kid, he might as well do it wholeheartedly. Justin gasped and threw his head back, as Brian trailed hot, wet kisses down his throat. The blond obediently lifted his arms up, so that his jacket and t-shirt could be effortlessly pulled off, and thrown to the floor. Brian’s strong arms found their way up Justin’s back, pulling Justin’s torso toward his mouth so that he could ravenously lick at the blond’s right nipple. The younger man sucked in a shuddered breath when Brian softly nipped and sucked at the delicate nub. “Oh, God,” Justin whimpered, wrapping his arms around Brian’s shoulders, and holding on for dear life. “Please, Brian.” Hearing Justin’s plea, the older man swiftly flipped the blond on to his back, and pulled off his shoes, socks and jeans in one fluid motion. Justin didn’t have time to be surprised, because no sooner had his pants been removed, then Brian was on top of him, kissing him hard and rubbing his leaking erection through the thin material of his underwear. The blond moaned, and thrust his hips upwards, encouraging more contact with Brian’s skilled hand. The older man placed one firm kiss on Justin’s lips, before pulling back briefly to expertly remove his unbuttoned shirt and tailored pants. The clothing joined Justin’s on the floor and Brian leant forward once again, completely covering the blond’s slender frame with his own. The two men entwined their bodies, tanned skin contrasting magnificently with pale alabaster, auburn hair with blond, and black shorts with white briefs. Brian could literally feel Justin’s cock pulsating underneath him as he pressed himself between the younger man’s open legs. More passionate and heated kissing followed, both men tasting every inch of the other’s mouth. Eventually, Brian pulled away from Justin’s plump lips, his face hovering just above the blond’s, so close that his breath ruffled the younger man’s hair when he exhaled. “Are you sure?” the older man asked breathlessly. “Yes,” Justin whispered, “Fuck me.” Brian didn’t need telling twice. In no time at all, he had removed the blond’s underwear, and was hurriedly reaching for his ever-present tube of lube. Not stopping to question why there was a stash of condoms and lube on the coffee table, Justin pulled Brian back down so he could suck and kiss along the older man’s neck. The FBI agent paused, distracted as Justin continued the voracious journey across his torso, licking along his collar bone, and down to his nipples. Placing the lube on the couch, and propping himself up on his hands, Brian leant forward to allow Justin complete access to his chest. The younger man took full advantage of Brian’s willingness, and licked at his right nipple in earnest, teasing it to a hardened peak. Mouth opened in a half smirk, half gasp, the brunet simply enjoyed the talented ministrations of Justin‘s tongue, closing his eyes when the blond nipped softly at his overly sensitive nipple. Brian could have let the younger man suck on his tits all night, but his cock had begun to ache so much, that there was an almost urgent need to take off his underwear and give it some release. Taking this as his cue, the older man removed his nipple from Justin’s mouth and slid his black shorts down his legs, kicking them off when they reached his ankles. Realizing that they were now both in fact naked, the men stopped, as if to admire each other’s beauty, taking one last chance to remember this virtuous moment before they started fucking. Erections firmly pressed together, they kissed tenderly, savouring the taste and relishing in the pleasure. Brian grabbed for the lube, popped the cap, and sat back on his knees so that he could lift one of Justin’s legs on to his shoulder. The blond’s blissed-out face stared up at Brian as he circled around the downy hairs of Justin’s asshole with a heavily lube coated index finger. With a gentle push, the brunet slipped the digit past the first tight ring of muscle and pressed it deep inside the younger man. Justin’s eyes squeezed shut, and he felt his ass tightly grip the FBI agent’s finger as his body adjusted to the intrusion. He willed himself to relax, focusing on the pleasurable sensation of Brian’s skilled digit gently stroking against the delicate tissue inside him. Eventually, Justin began to open up, and the brunet took this as his cue to slip in a second finger, working them both in and out of the younger man’s ass at a steady pace. He scissored the digits apart, making sure that the blond was thoroughly stretched and ready for his significantly-larger-than-average cock. “Are you ready?” Brian asked softly, withdrawing his fingers and grabbing a condom from the coffee table. “Yes,” Justin breathed, watching the older man rip the condom packaging open with his teeth. “Put it on me,” Brian coaxed, handing the latex disc to the blond. Justin reached forward, between his spread legs, and slowly rolled the condom down the length of the older man‘s beautiful cock. Brian relished in the amazing sensations of the blond’s hand sliding down his dick, from tip to base, with the white, translucent latex. His task complete, Justin settled back against the sofa, wrapping his legs around the brunet’s waist, and bracing himself for what he knew was about to come. Placing his sheathed cock at the younger man’s well-lubed entrance, Brian pushed forward slowly, allowing the tip of his erection to be consumed by Justin’s ass. The younger man closed his eyes shut once again, panting with the penetration and balling his hands in to fists, gripping the material of the expensive Italian couch tightly. Brian waited patiently for the younger man to adjust, only pressing in deeper very slowly, enjoying the incredible tightness and friction that Justin’s ass provided for his dick. Wanting more than anything for the blond to relax, and allow him all of the way in, Brian leant forward and kissed the younger man’s soft lips hoping that it would distract him. Immediately, the tension in Justin’s body dissolved, and his hands found their way across the FBI agent’s back, encouraging the older man to start thrusting. “Oh, God,” Justin moaned out, when Brian pulled almost all of the way out of his ass only to plunge back in, stroking every inch of his insides. The brunet pumped his hips with expertise, his dick rubbing against Justin’s prostate on almost every thrust. Leaning forward to kiss the younger man once again, Brian also wrapped his arms around the blond, lifting him up from the sofa slightly, and pulling him close. The assault on his ass, mouth and the friction on his cock between their sweaty bodies was almost too much for Justin, and he tried desperately to hold off his ever-nearing orgasm. He was crying out on almost every stroke now, and he could feel the familiar tightening in his balls. “I’m. So. Close.” The blond managed to pant out in between Brian’s vigorous thrusts. The older man smiled, his tongue poking out slightly between parted lips, glad that Justin was close, as he was fast approaching orgasm himself, and didn’t know how much longer he would actually be able to last. He buried his face in the crook of Justin’s neck, plunging in and out of the blond’s ass at an astonishing rate, trying to push them both over the edge. “Oh, fuck!” Justin breathed out, as Brian hit his prostate one last time, sending him in to the most amazing orgasm he had ever had. His dick pulsed with every spurt of come that erupted from it, wonderfully decorating his abdomen and chest with ornate white patterns. Three huffed breaths later, and Brian was also coming, the intense spasming of Justin’s ass literally pulling the orgasm from him. Both men lay motionless, panting lightly, and covered in Justin's come, recovering from what probably ranked for each of them as their number one fuck of all time.