BRIAN’S POV

“So that guy is full of shit?” Justin asks, rolling onto his stomach. His ass rocks back and forth on the sheets.

“Looks like it,” I say, pulling my shirt over my head. He watches me undress and I climb onto the bed beside him, lying on my back. I’d just finished meeting with that Pendergrass asshole at his hotel, and I can’t get the goddamn taste of deception out of my mouth.

Justin sighs and lifts his foot, dropping it across my shin.

“Well… that sucks,” he says, staring straight ahead, folding his hands together and resting his chin on his fingers.

“Mmhmmm,” I turn onto my side, facing him, pressing my cock against his hip. Don’t really want to think about anything else but fucking him right now.

“Good thing you found out though,” he says, smiling a little.

I run my hand down his back, my palm flat against his pale skin. “Yup.”

“You’re great at finding out shit about people.” He looks at me and grins. “Maybe you shoulda been a cop.”

I bark out a laugh. “Oh yeah, right,” I say, and start laughing again. Me. A fucking cop.

“What?” he laughs back, and nudges me with his foot. “You could’ve been. Seriously!” he rolls over onto his back and throws his arms above his head. “Don’t make the handcuffs too tight, officer!” he says in a mocking voice. “Oh God!” he laughs and starts to pull his hands down from his head, but I pounce on him, straddling his hips and grabbing his wrists tightly between my fingers.

“You think you’re playing around?” I growl into his face. His eyes get that look, Christ, that look. I love that look. He loves kink and rarely admits it, but that look in his eyes gives him away every time.

“Maybe I’ll fuck you with my nightstick,” I say, licking at his ear.

“You wouldn’t,” he says, breathing out hotly.

“Yeah, actually I did once. I fucked a cop with his own goddamn nightstick,” I sit up, still holding his wrists in my grip.

He scrunches up his face at me. “Really?”

I nod and suck my lips into my mouth, feel his cock twitch between my legs, beneath my balls.

“Do you have a hat or something? That would look hot,” he licks his lips and raises his hips a little to push into me.

I give him a not-fucking-likely look and kiss him quickly on the mouth, before climbing off him. “Don’t move,” I warn, and watch him before turning towards the closet and getting out the toy box. Rummage around in it, and find what I’m looking for, turn around and he’s lying on his stomach sideways on the bed, chin hanging over the edge, watching me.

“You have a great ass, you know,” he says, grinning.

“I know,” I grin back and climb up onto bed beside him, hiding what I have in my hands behind my back.

“What is it?” he says, trying to see behind me, but I turn away so he can’t see.

He looks at me and screws up his face. “What? A buttplug? A dildo? What?” he twists the other way quickly trying to get another look.

“Nuh-uh,” I say and lie down on my side, holding my hands behind me.

“You didn’t keep his nightstick... did you?” his eyes get real wide and I can see the glimmer of a smile on his face.

I laugh and lean forward to kiss him, but he takes advantage and pokes his fingers into my sides, making me jerk under his grip, and I try to twist away from his tickling fingers.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I gasp out between laughs and breaths, falling to my back on the bed. He tries to climb up on top of me, tight fingers lightly pinching and tickling and ohmygod…

I pull the handcuffs out from behind my back and grab one wrist then the other then he’s bound.

“Asshole!” He yelps out, laughing and amazed at how quickly I cuffed him. I stroke my fingers up his sides, tickling him now, and he arches his back up on the bed, hooting out with laughter. “God Brian, please don’t, fuck—no… ah!” he struggles for breath and I roll him over onto his stomach, pulling his cuffed arms around in front of him, stretching him out on the bed.

“Maybe I *shoulda* been a cop,” I lean over his face and lick at his temple.

He pants for breath, his face a deep red. “Just don’t tickle me. Seriously, I’ll puke,” he twists his neck to look at me, and tries to sit up, but I push him down to the bed again, climbing up on his back and sitting on him.

“I won’t tickle you, I promise” I whisper in his ear, saying it like I don’t really mean it, and brush my fingers lightly up his spine, then harder across his shoulders.

He slowly relaxes beneath me, and humms a little through his nose, sighing as my fingers stroke his skin. “Arms okay?” I have to ask. He nods against the sheets.

I turn around, lying my ankles across his arms, holding him to the bed, and rest my ass across his shoulders, rubbing my cock and balls up and down his spine. I give him a light smack and he laughs in surprise, then sighs as I smooth my hands over his ass, rubbing his cheeks gently, leaning down to lick his crack, sliding my tongue in the crevice of his ass. Slowly, slowly work my way towards his hole, slipping my tongue across his skin and wriggling closer and closer. I can feel him squirming beneath me, a little begging in his breath, please and God and Brian all in one, but I hold him still, pressing my body against his, pushing him to the bed. I want him completely focused on my tongue and his asshole.

I slide my palms down the inside of his thighs, against the light downy hairs and smooth skin, wanting to lick that too, lick everything, all of him. Push open his legs, wide, exposing his balls and tightening up his cheeks, and I kiss the crease where the top of his thigh meets the round curve of his ass, moving to tongue his balls, then nosing them softly when I hear him start to whimper behind me.

I know he’s dying, waiting for my touch. Aching. Needing. I know he wants to reach behind him, and urge me forward, wants to stroke my cock or grab his own. Wants to do something, anything to encourage me to lick his hole. But I have control. I want that control. I almost need it right now. It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve been able to control anything.

And besides, I know he loves being tied up and teased, despite the swear words coming out of his mouth right now.

More kisses, more licks, then I reach out, my tongue dripping, and press my mouth against his asshole. He gasps hard, arching beneath me, jerking and groaning and pushes his ass up towards my face, inviting me in for more.

I lick him and suck him and nip him, bathing his hole with my tongue and taking the taste of him inside me. I love the taste of him, it’s like sex and him and doing something I know makes him feel so fucking good. Ever since that first time, he’s loved getting rimmed. Ever since that first touch of my tongue to his ass, I’ve loved rimming him. I stroke my cock a little and run it against his spine, his back damp with sweat, quaking beneath me.

And then his voice gets higher, his whimpers faster, and I hear a pounding against the sheets with his cuffed hands, then his fingers scratching at my ass, as much as he can touch me when he’s bound like this.

I kiss his hole a few more times, nosing his balls and leaving a long trail of spit along his crack, then turn around again and straddle him, rubbing my cock into the small of his back. I touch my tongue to the side of his face, my lips slick with spit and the smell of him all over my mouth. His fingers are trapped against the back of his neck, and I hold them down with my throat, running my hands along his arms and pushing him to the bed.

He pants and gasps and writhes beneath me, rubbing his cock against the sheets, and straining in the cuffs, hands clenching into fists over and over. I feel drunk just watching him, mesmerized by his need, his intensity, pushing my palms across his warm skin. I slide a condom on and rock my dick between his cheeks, pressing against his hole, holding my hand in the small of his back.

He tries to twist around to watch me, look at me, like he always does, sliding his bound arms up underneath him to lift up a little. I grin at him and he smiles back, watching as I rub my cock against his hole, then I push, push, push in hard… his head falls to the pillows and I’m inside him, warm and welcome and I lie down on top of him, cock buried deep in his ass.

Slide my arms across his, pressing him to the bed, letting my knees slide to either side of his, just slowly fucking him, pushing into his ass over and over, feeling him push back against me. Fingers twist up in each other as he holds onto me tightly, our arms over our heads, his bound, mine free.

His chest heaves beneath me, holding my weight, pushing the air out of his lungs. I lift up and slide my arms around his chest, pulling him to his knees, his head buried in the pillows as he tries to leverage himself on his elbows, but he falls down to his chest again with the first hard slam in.

Christ, it feels so good, too good and I slam inside him again, short pull back, then another slam fuck in, and he pushes back on me hard, his arms stretched out over his head, helpless to do anything except take it. Won’t make this last, won’t be long, don’t want his arms to get sore or to overplay, so I give him sharp, short thrusts inside, fucking his ass fast and hard. He tenses around me, clenching his ass on my dick and I grab his cock, jacking him off quickly, three, four strokes and then I feel him start to cum, even before it fills my palm. Feel that tightness, that heat I know I only imagine, hear him let out a little moan, body going almost rigid and I press hard inside him, wanting to ride it, feel it more, intense, just a few more fucks and I fill the condom inside him, shaking, my knees like jello, my head heavy and fucking exhausted and Jesus Christ, that was good.

Kiss the small of his spine, up his back, lean my hot forehead against his damp skin, just breathing. Fucking breathing. Slowly pull out of him, and he collapses to the bed, rolling onto his side, and reaching up to me with his bound hands. I grab the key and carefully unlock the handcuffs, kissing his wrists and wrapping him up into my arms, holding him close to my body, rolling over onto my back and pulling him with me.

“Okay?” he asks, between breaths.

“I’m the one that’s supposed to be asking *you* that,” I smile back at him, taking his wrists lightly between my fingers, and smoothing my thumbs across his skin.

He laughs softly and lets me pull his arms out across mine, still rubbing my thumbs across the back of his wrists.

We breathe and I smell his hair and feel his heart beating in his chest on the opposite side of mine.

He slips his wrists from my hands and lifts up a little, looking at me, lifting his eyebrows and smiling with his tongue stuck through his teeth. I grin and nod my head a little, and he crawls down my chest, kissing my throat, my chest, licking across my nipples and working his way down to my cock. He stops at my belly button, and looks up at me.

“Do you think he’ll still make them lots of money?” he asks suddenly.

I scrunch up my face. “Hunh?”

“You know, that guy. I mean, even if he does screw around, at least Liberty House gets something, right?” he strokes the fine hairs surrounding my bellybutton.

“Justin… why the fuck are you thinking about that *now*?” I throw my arms out. It amazes me how he can be thinking about other shit when we’re getting ready to fuck. Again.

He shrugs then sighs, pressing his cheek to my stomach. “I just feel bad, is all,” he says, then kisses my bellybutton.

I nod my head and don’t say anything. There’s nothing I *can* say. Because he’s right, and it’s not fair, and it’s wrong.

And I want my dick sucked.

JUSTIN’S POV

I can’t stop thinking about those people dying at Liberty House. It’s awful there. I mean, they were so happy just to get those few bits of furniture of Vic’s. And that furniture was... well... I don’t think the Salvation Army would’ve taken it, let’s just say that. They deserve something *nice*. Something good. Something... special, I guess.

I just wish I had something special to give them. That I had something.

Wait a second... *I* may not have something, but I think I know someone that does. He shouldn’t be that hard to convince. I have the right tools to convince him anyway.

I keep crawling down Brian’s chest, kissing his pubes and licking his thighs. I push my nose up against his balls, let my tongue flick out and brush against him, just above his hole, then pressing hard with my tongue, rubbing against his skin.

He lets out a sigh and puts his fingers lightly on the top of my head. I kiss his thighs. He adjusts his hips. I run my hands up along his pelvic bone, my fingers dancing perilously close to his cock. But I don’t touch.

That does it.

He lifts his head and looks at me. Cocks an eyebrow. Gives me a little nudge behind the ear with this thumb.

“Problem?” he asks when he’s figured out I’m not going anywhere.

“You know… there’s something *you* could do to help,” I brush my lips into his pubes, letting my hair coast across his dick.

“There’s something *you* could do to help too,” he says, sliding down the bed to push his cock closer to my lips.

I push myself up on my elbows and don’t touch him.

“Brian, Liberty House. You could help them out, couldn’t you? Directly? Without going through that son-of-a-bitch?”

He groans and falls back onto the bed. “Christ, Justin,” his fingers reach for his cock, but I swat them away.

“C’mon,” I snort a little and hold his hand to the bed.

“It’s hard to get any money right now. Too many bills, shit still coming in… I can’t right now. I will, but not right now,” he pushes his other hand in his hair, then lets his fingers drift down his chest.

I snatch his hand in mine and grip it tightly. “You don’t want me to get the handcuffs out, do you?” I squeeze his fingers in mine and he wriggles them a little.

“Try it and I won’t be the only one with one nut,” he says, but breaks into a laugh before the words finish leaving his mouth.

“It doesn’t have to be money, Brian,” I say. “You should see that place. All these queers surrounded by the shittiest fucking furniture you’ve ever seen. It’s not right,” I release his hands and settle back down between his legs, resting my cheek on his thigh.

“Well I barely have any furniture here,” he says, waving his hand towards the living room.

“That’s because you like it that way,” I pull at the fine hairs on his thighs and he shakes his leg to get me to stop.

“It’s… very Middle Eastern. It’s… relaxed,” he says, then laughs. “I think I need some weed. No, I need a fucking blowjob, *then* I need some weed.” He eyeballs me and I shrug my shoulders.

“You’ve got that Barcelona chair just sitting in your office. Why not give them that?” I throw it out there.

“Justin, that’s a two thousand dollar chair. What the fuck does Liberty House need with a two thousand dollar chair?” he groans and starts stroking his chest again. I put my hand on top of his and stop him.

“They don’t need it Brian. It would just be… nice, I guess. It’s so depressing there. And it’s not like you’re using it,” I stroke the back of his hand with my thumb and kiss his thighs again.

He pushes his hips up a little, into my face. “Suck me off and I’ll think about it.”

“Donate the chair and I’ll suck you off,” I put my palms on his thighs and run my thumbs slowly across his skin.

He sits up. “What?”

“You heard me,” I bend towards his cock and almost, just *almost* brush my lips across him. I may not have him handcuffed, but somehow I think this is almost worse.

“Bribery?” he asks, and jerks his thigh beneath my fingers, trying to get me to look at him.

“Yup,” I don’t move, just let my tongue slip from my lips and mimic licking his cock.

“Suck me off and I’ll donate the chair,” he relents, falling back to the pillows.

I grin. “Always has to be your way, right?” I open my mouth wide and take him between my lips, sliding him back into my throat, climbing up his body to get him deeper inside.

“Always…” he breathes out, arching his back and putting his hand on the back of my head, following my movements.

I suck him and lick him and take him and just before I know he’s going to shoot, I start stroking my cock, waiting till just after he cums down my throat to let him slip from my lips so I can sit up on him, pushing his naked cock between my cheeks. I finish jacking off, my cum spurting out over him, dripping out across his chest, his stomach, hitting him in the throat.

He runs his finger across his skin, and slides it into his mouth, licking my cum off his finger, and I fall down onto him, smearing my spunk across both of us.

“I would’ve done it anyway,” he mumbles, brushing his fingers into my hair.

“I know. But that was more fun, right?” I kiss the side of his face and lick a drop of my cum on his throat.

He gives me a sideways grin. “That’s the kind of bribery I’ll tolerate,” he says, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

“Tomorrow, then. We’ll take it over,” I drop my voice because I know he’s falling asleep.

“Tomorrow,” the word leaves his lips quietly and then he drifts to sleep.

It was *definitely* more fun doing it this way.