After the Essengy kissing debacle.


Justin couldn’t get out of the club fast enough. He had just come in his pants, like a teenager, and from nothing more than a kiss!

He had felt the pleasure building, the tingling in his groin, the tightening of his balls, but he had not believed his own body’s warning. He had been lost in the kiss, riding the waves of arousal, taken over by the sensations, his heart beating so loudly it drowned out the music.

Brian’s scent, his hands on his face, the warmth of his body through their clothes, and his tongue, oh so soft, yet so possessive, and his pleasure had cusped, focusing so fast from his whole body to his cock that before he could do anything about it, he was erupting in waves of exquisite agony… in his pants, in the middle of the dance floor.

“And next thing I knew, he was there, and we were dancing, and we had our hands all over each other, and then we were kissing and I…I can’t go back to work, Daph. I just can’t!”

“Wait a minute. You danced, you kissed, and now you can’t go back to work? Justin, you kissed him before. Did you let him fuck you in the back room?”

“Essengy doesn’t have a back room. It’s a lounge. And no! I told you I wouldn’t do that!”

“Then what are you doing kissing him?”

“I know!”

“You think he’s going to fire you or something?”

“Oh, god, I hadn’t even thought of that! Shit! I’m so fucked! I’m not going back…”

“Justin! Dammit! You are not making any sense. What happened?!”

“…”

“JUSTIN!!!”

“Icameinmypantswhilewewerekissing.”

“What?”

“I FUCKING CAME IN MY PANTS WHILE WE WERE KISSING!!! We weren’t even, you know, frotting or anything. We were just standing there, he was holding my face in his hands and just kissing me, and I just lost it, and just came.”

“You had an orgasm just from kissing him.”

“Yeah.”

“Standing in the middle of the dance floor.”

“Yeah.”

“With his hands on your face.

“Yeah.”

She started laughing “Oh my GOD, Justin!” She was laughing so hard she was snorting. And kept on laughing. For a long time.

“Thanks Daphne. I feel so much better.”

“Wait, Justin. Wait. I…” She giggled, “…I’m sorry. There. I’m not… *Giggle* …I’m done. I’m not laughing any more. I’m sorry. Okay. “

“Thank you.”

“Hum…so now you feel you can’t go back to work?”

“I can’t face him. I am completely infatuated with him, I just made a complete ass out of myself and I never want to even run into him ever again. At work, at the club, wherever. Thank God we live in New York, or I would have had to move out of town…”

“You are being ridiculous.”

“Daphne, this is so incredibly embarrassing!”

“You should be embarrassed. That you let him kiss you! Again! You know the guy is a total jerk. That’s what you should be embarrassed about! But coming in your pants?” She snorted again. “…Well I guess that’s pretty mortifying. But why in the hell did you let him kiss you!”

“It just feels so good, Daphne. It’s so good between us!”

“Hm. Obviously.” She was laughing again, at him and at her bon mot, no doubt.

“Stop it!”

“Sorry… If you think so, he probably thinks so too, you know.”

“No, not necessarily. I think it’s him. I think he’s just that good…”

“If that were true, why would he come after you again and again?”

“Because I said ‘no’. No one has ever said ‘no’ to him before.”

“Can I ask you a question about that?”

“Sure.”

“You’ve fucked in back rooms before.”

That was a statement, but he felt the need to clarify. “Not very often. I usually only go to the back room when a guy offers to suck me off, and that’s it. I hardly ever reciprocate, and the two or three times I fucked in a back room, I was doing the fucking and the guy asked for it. And I always made it clear I didn’t think it was going anywhere."

He sighed. “Brian is not the type to give blowjobs in back rooms, or to bottom, anywhere. Everything about him screams, ‘I’m a top’. And I don’t bottom. To me, that would really mean something. To open myself to someone. It’s more than the normal back room stuff, more than fucking. I’m not about to let him fuck me and walk away without even bothering to hand me a towel. I would feel… horrible. Violated. And that’s all he is after.”

“You would have, the first time you met him…”

“I would have sucked him off, and followed him home for more, I’m sure. The way he looked at me, the way he held me… I can’t explain it.”

“I would love to meet this guy.”

“He is… beautiful, Daphne. The most beautiful man I have ever met. I want him so badly. It’s insane.”

“Wow. But you know you can’t quit your internship over this. You have to go back to work. Just avoid him. And avoid the club!”

“I just wish I never had to see him again. He knows. He always looked at me with that look on his face that says he knows I want him, and anytime he touches me I just… let him. And now… His smug look was bad enough before. Now, it’s going to be unbearable.”

“But you have not gone to bed with him, Justin. And you won’t. So he can look smug all he wants.”

“Yeah, well, except for the fact that he made me spill in my pants.”

“… Yeah. Well, he can’t do anything at work, so you are just going to have to suck it up and go. And just stay away from the club.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right…”

“I know. That’s why I love you.”

“Love you too. Call me.”

“I will. Bye.”

Justin thought long and hard about what Daphne had said. She was absolutely right. No matter how good it felt, he had no business kissing Brian. His self-control wasn’t that great (obviously. Oh, God!). Eventually, if it happened again, he would break down and justify going further and further down that slippery slope, until he woke up one morning, his ass sore and his heart broken. He had to stay away from Brian Kinney.

He called Sam first thing on Tuesday, asking if it would be okay to work from home. Sam had given him some time to work up an idea for one of The Coach’s account, a new sport drink called ‘Fuel’. He could work on it as easily from home as he could from the office. He told him he could concentrate better. Sam did not seem too happy about it, but he eventually acquiesced. It was a huge relief.

That meant no risks of accidentally running into Brian.

Sam called him at ten, sounding upset.

“Kinney found out you weren’t here, Justin, and he’s not happy. You better get your ass here fast. He wants you to bring him the Wilkin’s boards as soon as you get here.”

“But, that’s Julie’s account! Why does he want me to bring the boards?”

“I guess he feels those little errands should be run by the interns, not by one of the Art Department’s creative managers. Just hurry up, Justin. And sorry if I got you into trouble. I kinda knew letting you work at home was a mistake. I should have said no.”

Cursing under his breath at the interruption of his work, at Kinney for wanting to use him as an errand boy when he was an intern, and at himself for feeling so vulnerable, he rushed to the office.

It was almost an hour trip, and he had been lounging at his computer at home in his sweats, without showering. By the time he arrived at Plexus, it was eleven-thirty.

He went to Julie to ask for the boards, and she was a little surprised that he was bringing them up, though relieved because she had so much to do.

He made it to Brian’s, strike that, to Mr. Kinney’s office by a quarter to twelve, and was utterly relieved when Cynthia told him he had left for lunch, which Justin had heard actually meant that he was working out at the gym on the 34th floor. Justin set up the boards, making sure they were in order, and presented to their best effect. Julie had done a great job. He left again, and started back for the elevator to the Art Department and his own work for the ‘Fuel’ campaign.

Alan Curry’s office door was open, and Justin could not help but give the treadmill in the corner of the office an envious glance. By not going back to the club, he was depriving himself of his main source of exercise, and that thought was already weighing on him.

“Can I help you?”

Shit. He had been just standing in front of the open door, and now Alan Curry was back, wondering who the hell he was and what he was doing.

“Sorry, sir. I was looking at your treadmill, and thinking how much I need exercise.”

“You’re an intern, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Justin Taylor, I’m in the Art Department.”

“Why don’t you join the gym, on the 34th floor? Plexus’s employees get a group discount.”

“Huh… Because even with a group discount, it cost more per month than I actually make working here?” Justin was trying not to sound like he was complaining, but the facts were the facts.

“Oh. Right.” Alan Curry had the decency to look a little sheepish. Then he totally surprised Justin. “I only use my treadmill in the early morning. If you wanted, you would be welcome to use it during my lunch hour. I am always out of the office from 12:30 to 1:30. Would that work for you?”

“Wow! Yes, that would be… just great! That’s really kind of you. I don’t know what to say…”

Alan Curry looked quite pleased with himself. He slapped Justin on the shoulder. “Think nothing of it. Let me introduce you to Betsy. She’s my assistant. She’ll be the one letting you in.”

Betsy was just as nice and dedicated to her job as Cynthia. She apparently always ate her lunch at her desk. She was Justin’s mom’s age, and she smiled at him warmly. Alan left them talking about arrangements. She assumed that Justin would be using Alan’s shower as well, though he certainly hadn’t said anything about it.

“Well, naturally, Justin. I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to go back to work all sweaty. You can set your watch by Alan, so as long as you’re out of his suite by 1:30, it won’t be a problem. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot!”

Justin went back to his work feeling really pleased. Exercise would do him a world of good.

He was interrupted from his work again at 1:50. Apparently, he was needed to sit in and take notes at the Wilkin’s presentation, in case some things needed to be changed on the art. Justin was a little surprised. He had not realized anyone from the Art Department ever sat in on presentations. He walked in on time, and worked hard to blend in with the furniture, sitting next to Cynthia, who gave him a small smile. It would be all right. After all, Brian would be too busy to pay any attention to him.

By the time he was packing up the boards, his image of Brian had changed again. He had never seen him in full work mode with clients before. He was… amazing. The clients were completely dazzled (as was he). He totally got the “God” nickname, now. Brian had had them eating out of his hand. Justin also realized that if Brian, club boy, was sexy, it was nothing compared to Brian Kinney, advertising God. Justin sported a hard on the entire presentation and wanted nothing more than for Brian to come back after dismissing his clients, bend him over a desk, and fuck him senseless.

He hurriedly made his way to the elevator and punched the call button repeatedly. Suddenly, he became aware of eyes on his back and knew Brian was watching him. Just then the doors opened. He stepped in, punched his floor and at the last second looked up to meet Brian’s eyes. When the doors were fully closed, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Only four short weeks and he would be out of Plexus. He would never have to see Brian again.

That thought did not bring him quite the relief he thought it should…
 

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