Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

Another day and night in Kilkenny sees the castle's first threesome in a long time. Brian deals with feelings that are outside of his comfort zone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Justin was laying on a towel outside the castle, taking full advantage of the rare day of heat and sun. He wore only some very small swim trunks that Emmett had given him once, a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He’d just decided to flip over to get his back some more sun, somewhat amazed that it’d finally become warm enough to actually tan in the tepid country. Normally, the weather was mild, if not downright rainy. For the moment, he set the little paperback he’d been reading aside, the face and title of Dorian Grey pressed against the grass.  “I can’t believe it’s almost June!” he called over to where he knew Brian was standing on the drive. "You do realize that back home I could have a full tan by now?”

 

He’d half-expected to receive some standard quip about the ever-present plane ticket on the fridge door, and how if he wanted such a glorious tan, then he should utilize said ticket. But Brian failed to respond at all. Justin huffed as he propped up on his elbows, peering over the edge of his sunglasses to view Brian. He was bent over the hood of his new car, busy showing off the mechanics to Rhys and Silas. Colin’s two friends had stopped by that afternoon to look at Brian’s shiny car, and they’d brought Rhys’ shiny car over to ogle as well. Justin scoffed at their fascination with each other’s toys. What was one car from any other? He just didn’t get it.

 

“Hey do you guys want some lunch?” The guys kept peering and pointing under the hood of the car, not answering him, so Justin tried again, “God, I’m starving. How about we order pizza? You guys want pizza?” Nothing.

 

“Yeah I modified that last year. The throttle was catching too hard on anything over sixty. This way it accelerates to higher speeds without groaning at you.”

 

“I see,” Brian said, his eyes lighting up like a child who’d been allowed to play with a friend’s very best toy. He ran his hand over the hood of the car, peeking through the window to view the sleek interior. “This is the best model Porsche ever made,” he marveled.

 

“Like Aston Martin ever made a better car than the DB5. That’s an automotive wet dream you’ve got yourself, mate.”

 

Jeeze, what a bunch of bros, Justin thought petulantly, trying to pick back up with his reading but failing. He frowned at the other men paying more attention to the cars than to him. Before Rhys and Silas had shown up with their stupid cars, Brian had been ogling him. And now all they wanted to do was talk cars and engines and stuff? It was boring, and it was making his afternoon boring. And while Justin was glad that Brian was making friends and socializing, he still had imagined that he himself would be a part of the socializing, not sidelined as they fangirled over something which he knew nothing about.

 

“I’ll pay,” he offered, trying to gain their attention, or at least Brian’s, with pizza yet again. “I’ll get supreme: any toppings you want!” Still, no response, and Justin’s eyes narrowed as he shot out, “Oh gosh, I think I burnt my ASS in the sun! Will someone come check for me?”

 

Nobody looked over. That was about the moment when Justin gave up.

 

“I bet it drives like a dream,” Brian said wistfully, staring at the visiting car.

 

“Yeah. Say: you want to drive her?”

 

Brian looked taken aback, and then he looked gleeful. “Yes!”

 

“Brilliant. Why don’t we just drive into town and meet up with whoever’s there for the party early?” Rhys suggested, already fishing out his keys. “We’ll take yours and you and Justin can take mine.”

 

“Justin!”

 

Justin inched his sunglasses down marginally, peeking over to Brian. “Oh, so now you remember I exist?”

 

“We’re going to switch cars and go in to town early. Hurry up and get dressed!” he urged excitedly.

 

“Do you realize how wrong it is that you’re asking me to put clothes on in that tone of voice?" Justin picked his book back up, feigning disinterest. “Sorry, but I’m reading Wilde.”

 

“Fuck Wilde. Justin let’s go!”

 

“Ugh, fine.” Justin made a show of flipping back over, stretching the length of his body in the sun like some great cat. “I guess we can go. Just give me a minute to peel these sweaty swim shorts off and shower. I’m so hot.

 

Brian made some noise of approval that he should hurry, before turning his back on the show of his nearly-naked and sweaty boyfriend. Justin’s jaw dropped in outrage, and he was left to stomp into the house to change clothes. They were going to town.

 

---

 

The plan had been to go into town all along, of course. It was Rhys’ birthday and a bunch of people were meeting at the Fisherman’s Folly to celebrate that evening. As Rhys had explained it, it was his thirtieth birthday and despite the morbid occasion, all his ‘mates’ were using it as an excuse to drink. By the time the sun had set, the town pub was in full-swing, filled to the brim with loud and jovial patrons.

 

“To the birthday boy!” Silas and Colin cheered, three drinks in and nothing but wide smiles. “He was a wonderful soul in life, may his passing be ever mourned.” They cackled and turned away to get their next drinks from Maeve.

 

From his seat near Brian and Justin, Rhys shook his head. “Cop on you two!” he yelled across the room to the bar, laughing at the teasing. Then he sat back again and shrugged to Justin, “Ah well what’s the use?” His own glass was lifted as if in toast. “To me. At least I died a good looking son of a bitch, huh?” He chuckled again as he sipped his beer.

 

Sitting encircled by Brian’s arms, Justin observed, “You’re taking your deathday celebration far better than Brian did.”

 

“Oh?” Rhys raised a cheeky eyebrow at Brian, “When did you die—I mean: turn thirty?”

 

Justin had opened his mouth to inform him, but Brian’s hand clasping rudely over his face prohibited that. “I like to think that I died at the ripe old age of twenty six.”

 

“Ha, yeah right!” Justin had escaped Brian’s hand, “He’s thirty-one.”

 

“Who asked you, twat?” Brian pinched Justin’s neck, and Justin yelped before trying to bite back in retaliation. Brian snickered. “What the fuck are you trying to bite?!”

 

Observing their banter, Rhys laughed his very sexy laugh and held up his glass towards Brian. Once he’d caught Brian’s gaze, he winked, and toasted, “To young, dead men.”

 

Brian’s glass clinked heavily as it made contact with Rhys’. “To young dead men.”

 

---

 

The evening wore on, and Brian, Justin and Rhys still shared their table in the back of the pub. They’d been talking and laughing and even flirting for a while, and with the drinks refilling at the rate that they were, it was pretty clear that it wouldn’t be much longer before someone made the first foray into proposition territory. Brian and Justin had excused themselves to go and find the ‘jacks’.

 

It was only as Justin was exiting the bathroom, his lips still slightly pink from the blowjob he’d just performed, that he had the chance to ask Brian privately, “You like him too, right?”

 

Behind, Brian still looked very happy from what they’d done in the restroom, but he nodded his head and pulled Justin close, agreeing, “He’s hot.”

 

“I like his eyes. And his hair.”

 

“I like his ass.”

 

“And god, his accent…” Justin trailed off, returning only when Brian could be felt holding him possessively from behind. “Can you just imagine him whispering dirty things in that accent?”

 

Brian’s voice was darkened by lust as he asked, “I can, and it sounds like you can too. Do you want him?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Yeah? You want him to fuck you? You want to suck him off while I fuck you? Or while I fuck him?”

 

Justin moaned in Brian’s hold, glad for the noise level in the bar. “All three,” he said. It’d been forever since they’d had a trick together, and with his charming smile, Irish brogue, and defined body; Rhys seemed to be the perfect candidate for a fuck. Justin certainly thought so, especially since he’d now had enough alcohol to loosen his inhibitions. “Can we go back?” he asked. “Go back and get him?”

 

Brian could be felt kissing his cheek from behind, before releasing him with a light push. “Tell you what? That can be your job. You go back over there and tell Rhys what you want, and I’ll get some more drinks. Sound good?”

 

Justin didn’t have to think twice about that offer. He went off in the direction of their table, a purposeful kick to his step and a grin on his face. Brian chuckled as he watched the other man go. It was very sexy, in Brian’s opinion, to watch Justin come on to other men. Justin was very good at getting other mens’ attention, a talent which Brian himself would never hesitate to take credit for. Soon Justin would be flirting with Rhys; smiling, talking, maybe touching him in his effort to secure sex for the night. It was a show that Brian didn’t want to miss, and it was that thought more than any other that had him turning rapidly to the bar to order,

 

“Excuse me, can I get...” his eyes looked up to see who he’d spoken to, and his expression soured. “Oh. You.”

 

“Ay, me.” Maeve raised an attitudinal eyebrow at him, popping her gum. “What’ll it be, lord fancypants?”

 

Brian narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Do you have a problem with me?”

 

“Several. But I let you in my bar, don’t I? So why don’t you spend some of that money you’re making off this town’s guts, and order a beer?”

 

Brian smiled falsely at her and retrieved his wallet to slap several euro notes down onto the counter. “Since your little town is making me so terribly rich, I’ll do you one better and I’ll order three.”

 

Maeve stopped chewing her gum abruptly. “You think you’re so clever don’t you?” she asked, before turning round to grab the tap and produce three new beers. “You think you’re getting your comeuppance for being so clever and worldly, and that we little country bumpkins are just getting what comes to those who sit idle, huh?”

 

“You said it, not me.” Brian took a rough gulp of his newly-poured beer. “Fortune favors the bold.”

 

“Well then let me boldly tell you this: It’s a story about my sister you see.”

 

Brian looked at Maeve incredulously as she began to force her story on him. This woman really was just like Debbie!

 

“She used to live in Dale with her husband and their little girl. Dale was a small village, like Kilkenny. Now my sis wasn’t a farmer or a fisher, but when Dale was suddenly developed by contractors—contractors what like you’re courting—she and her husband had to move. Rent skyrocketed and they couldn’t afford it anymore. They had to move away with their baby girl, away from their parents and the good schools.”

 

“That’s a tragic story,” Brian simpered. “My heartstrings, they ache a little.”

 

Maeve scowled at him. “You need to realize why we put that petition out in the first place.”

 

“Because you’re a bored, vindictive, ill-educated yet over-zealous villager who wanted to make sure that if she couldn’t have the castle, then nobody could?”

 

Her lips curled at the assessment. “You still think this is about the castle? Surely a man as smart as you knows it’s got more to it than that. My sister may have come from Dale, not Kilkenny, but the point’s the same: you selling off this inheritance of yours is bad for us. It’ll hit you in ways you don’t expect.”

 

“Oh it’s hitting me alright. Your little stories have been keeping me from my plans for the evening.”

 

“Oh and what would those be? Indenturing the local children to serve drinks at your resort?”

 

“You see that guy over there?” Brian pointed and Maeve looked. “The one talking to Rhys? That hot piece of blonde ass is mine, and I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of both of them. Those are my plans for the evening. Now if you’ll excuse me,” He grabbed up the three beers that the Maeve had poured, “I think I’ll go and see just what it is they’re chatting about.”  

 

Maeve watched him go with a disapproving shake of the head, but at least Brian Kinney hadn’t disappointed her. He was exactly what she’d thought: clueless.

 

---

 

Brian returned to the table to find that Justin had taken his words to heart: he’d told Rhys what he wanted. That fact was clearly evidenced by the fact that while Brian placed the three new beers down onto the table, Justin was practically licking the traces of the last beer from Rhys’ lips.

 

Rhys was perched on a stool, and Justin was between his legs, kissing him. Brian’s eyes darkened as he took in the view of Rhys touching Justin. His lips melded slowly with Justin’s, his hands taking the liberty of running up and down the sides of his body. Justin seemed not to mind the advances one bit. He leant into the other man’s form, clearly desiring more than would be appropriate in the middle of the local pub. Due to the increasing level of PDA, as well as the blatant breaking of Justin’s very own no-kissing rule, Brian decided that it was his moment to sweep in. He slid forward to bring the purpose of this game to its fruition.

 

“Looks like you told him,” Brian murmured as he stood behind Justin and held his hips. Justin obviously couldn’t answer him, as occupied by the Irishman’s mouth as he was. Despite its illicit nature, Brian enjoyed the sight of their languid kiss, and he felt his dick twitch with interest. They hadn’t played together with a third (or fourth) party in a long time, but the appeal of such arrangements had certainly not been forgotten. Just seeing Justin let another man touch him had Brian imagining all of the other things they might get up to that night. That was, if Rhys agreed to it.

 

From the current looks of things, he probably would agree. The next time Brian spoke it was to Rhys, offering, “He’s good with his mouth, isn’t he?” Rhys’s eyes popped open over Justin’s shoulder, and Brian smirked. Rhys had pulled back from the kiss. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be nervous that he’d been found making out with Brian’s significant other, no matter what tempting come-ons Justin had offered. But Brian soothed that worry by grabbing Justin’s jaw and running a thumb over his lips for Rhys to see. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” he said, stirring again in his pants when he felt Justin’s tongue swipe out at the pad of his thumb. Saucy little fucker. “You’d be amazed what other uses he can find for it.” Brian placed his lips right at Justin’s ear, asking him, “You’d like to show Rhys how inventive you are, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yes.” Justin’s voice was hardly more than whisper, his breath gone with lust. “I definitely would.”

 

“Well then why don’t you be polite and invite him over to the castle for a visit?”

 

Justin swallowed, and his hand went up to touch Rhys’ chest. “Come on,” he said. “What do you say?”

 

Brian rolled his eyes. Only a nineteen year old walking wet dream like Justin could snag a trick with such a lackluster line. But as usual, Justin’s efforts worked. Oh, to be young and blond, Brian thought as he watched over Justin’s shoulder. Rhys was nodding in agreement that yes, he very much would like to go home with them

 

 “Do you guys do this often?” he asked with a forward grin as they’d all gotten up to leave their table. “Pick up men together?”

 

“Together, apart, whichever.” Both Brian and Justin winked at him as they went to collect their jackets. “Variety is the spice of life.”

 

They departed from the bar, their last round of beers forgotten.

 

---

 

The crumbling castle of Kilkenny may have been outdated and in disrepair, but as far as Brian Kinney was concerned, it had exactly one thing over the loft back it Pittsburgh: guest. bedrooms.

 

He and Justin were standing with Rhys in the middle of one of the spare rooms, and it was a relief—or at least would be, once the sex was over and reality set back in—to know that the crumpled and damp sheets and the strewn clothes and possibly knocked over furniture (because one never knew how wild things would get) would be contained to somewhere other than where Brian himself had to sleep all night.

 

As it was, Brian was running his hands over Rhys’ underwear-clad butt as Rhys touched Justin. He trailed a finger over Justin’s pierced nipple, asking, “Does it hurt if I—”

 

“No,” Justin answered without needing to hear the rest of the question. “Go on. You can touch it. Pull it if you want.” His eyes flicked backwards to Brian, and the heat they shared between them in that gaze as Rhys bent to bite Justin’s nipple was scorching. Justin sighed, threading his fingers through Rhys’ hair. “Brian loves playing with my nipple ring, don’t you Brian?” He did a thing with his tongue and his lips that was just for Brian’s benefit.

 

Brian’s cock fucking jerked at the filthy intent in that lick of the lips. “Sure,” he countered. “Anything to make him squeal.” Rhys seemed to have had enough of licking and biting on Justin’s chest, and he rose up again in search of a kiss. It was Brian who stopped him, holding Rhys back against his own body to husk, “No kissing. We don’t do that.” Brian didn’t miss the pleasantly surprised look on Justin’s face at his own enforcement of ‘the rules’. Justin looked at him like he’d received the sweetest valentine,

 

“Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah that’s uh… that’s the rule. Sorry.”

 

“But… he kissed me in the bar. A lot!”

 

Brian chuckled. “Yeah well that’s Justin for you. He gets very naughty when he drinks and he breaks the rules and then I have to spank him later, don’t I Sunshine?”

 

“Please,” Justin winked.

 

“Fuck… let me kiss him.” Rhys pulled against the hold Brian had on him, and Brian complied by pushing downwards on his shoulders,

 

“Sure you can. Why don’t you think of somewhere else to do it?”

 

It wasn’t hard to figure out just where else he could ‘kiss’ Justin. Before he knew it, Rhys had sunk to his knees and taken Justin’s cock out of his pants, and he followed with Brian not long after. Justin’s breath hitched as soon as their erections were brought together in the same pull of fist, and Brian’s gasp nearly matched him as the wet heat of a tongue swiped against them both. It quickly became apparent that not only did Rhys have an exceptional ability for multitasking, he was ambidextrous as well.

 

“Oh my god,” Justin whispered as they were both given head at the same time. His hipbone touched Brian’s, they were angled so close. Looking up at the other man, he murmured, “We’ve never done this before. Been blown at the same time.”

 

“No,” Brian agreed, reaching to pull Justin’s face closer for the kiss that belonged only to him. He sucked at Justin’s bottom lip before he bit it, releasing him to agree, “It’s a first.”

 

“Among others.”

 

Brian’s dick throbbed, closely followed by some keen echo in his chest. “Yeah,” he muttered, reaching to squeeze Justin’s ass cheek possessively. “Among others.” Something in Justin’s eyes set off that feeling in his chest even worse then, and Brian thought, I love you. And shit there it was, in all its three worded glory and in the most inappropriate of circumstances too.

 

He loved this man. This man whom he’d taken advantage of when he’d been way too naive to consent, this man whom he’d fucked and been unable to shake despite his best efforts, this man who had terrified him, challenged him, and taught him so much, who’d travelled across the ocean with him and who was now being sucked off with him in the guest bedroom of an ancient castle. This man. …Shit.

 

Brian squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the physical pleasure of Rhys’ mouth. But the pleasure didn’t make the achy chest feeling go away. He loved him any way he could get him, and since it was now becoming apparent even in the most lurid of circumstances that he did, Brian knew that this was certainly becoming hard to ignore.

 

Later that night, after Rhys had been excused and Brian lay staring at Justin’s sleeping form in their shared bed, he thought about how much he really did love going to bed with Justin each night. He loved how Justin fluffed his pillow ten times like a cat trying to get comfy. He loved how he slept facing away, yet always seemed to snuggle his butt back to Brian’s hips. He loved how he sniffed in his sleep and stole the blankets. Brian hadn’t used to love those things. He hadn’t used to love...

 

Brian tossed his head on the pillow, glancing again at Justin’s naked back that rose and fell with each easy breath. “Twat,” he murmured quietly, somehow jealous that Justin could be easily sated by a raucous fuck and fall into such sweet dreams. He slept so easily, because something as trite as love would never faze him. He was a pro at it, after all.

 

Brian knew that Justin would be just as perfect, just as unfortunately lovable when the sun came up. His blond hair would be a messy halo and his squinty eyes would be even squintier with sleep. And the achy chest feeling would continue. Brian sighed, nearly touching Justin’s back but stopping.

 

“You planned this all along,” he accused quietly. “Well great job. You did it. But don’t get your hopes up Sonnyboy. I always told you there’s only one person you can count on.”

 

And it isn’t me, he thought. Justin was his in Ireland, but he wouldn’t be his when they returned to America and got on with their lives. Justin had college and art and a great big successful life ahead of him when they returned home. Brian wasn’t going to let himself fall into the trap of forgetting that. It would just hurt more later if he did.

 

Besides, he was Brian fucking Kinney after all. If he could care more about going to bed and waking up with one particular man than he did about fucking several unparticular men, then Brian knew it was definitely time to do something about it, one way or the another.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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