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A Queer As Folk Halloween

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"Are you greasing a baking pan or getting me ready?"


Justin sighed. Even when Brian was on the bottom, he still had to be in charge. "I'm trying to be considerate, given that you don't let me top very often."


"Well, get on with it, will y—!"


The sentence ended in an undignified squeak as Justin deliberately pressed on Brian's prostate. Just like that, he melted back into the sheets, giving Justin a few moments without snarking commentary. Grabbing a condom, Justin quickly sheathed himself before Brian could change his mind and roll over.




"Sunshine, I was born ready. Could you please just . . . ."


Justin slammed forward, driving Brian face first into the pillow, which in his opinion, was the best position for Brian when he was bottoming.


"Fuck, you're tight," he gasped, almost losing himself in the beckoning heat. Gritting his teeth, he fought to keep control, because if he came first, there would be hell to pay. Not to mention endless ridicule from his non-partner.


The next ten minutes passed in a haze of sweat and curses. Justin maintained his edge and managed to hold off just long enough for Brian to come before following him off the cliff. Afterwards, he rolled off, tossing the full condom aside, and collapsed on his back panting. Brian did not even move.


"That wasn't bad," came his muffled voice from deep within the pillow.


Justin shot him an unseen glare. "Excuse me? That was awesome. You totally loved it."


"It was enjoyable. I wouldn't go so far as to say I loved it."


"Bullshit. What was that monkey-like screech at the end?"


That got Brian to raise his head. "I do not screech."


"It was totally a screech. Unless you want to call it a squeal."


"Are you calling me a pig?"


"I'm calling myself a terrific top."


"Hmph." Brian rolled over, carefully extracting himself from the wet spot. Reaching over to the bedside table, he snagged a cigarette and lit up. "Your performance was passable. You need a bit more experience."


"Do I? Does that mean you're going to bottom for me more often?"


"Hardly. Go find yourself some tricks to practice on."


Justin rolled his eyes. "I don't need practice. If I can make the great Brian Kinney come, I can make anyone come."


"Care to bet on that?"


Justin hesitated, scrutinizing his lover. Bets with Brian involving sex never boded well for him. Then again, he was not a teenager anymore.


"What kind of bet?"


Brian exhaled a long stream of smoke. "We both pick out a trick and top the one we choose. Whoever makes his trick come first wins."


"That's it?"


Brian chuckled. "You need more of a challenge? Here's the deal though: you have to make him come with your cock. No using your hands to bring him to orgasm."


"What are the stakes?"


"Weren't you saying you wanted to go to Mikey's costume party for Halloween?"


"Yeah, but you refused to go."


"Well, if you win, we go and I will wear any costume you choose for me."


Wide-eyed, Justin clamped his mouth shut lest it fall open and humiliate him. "And . . . uh . . . if you win?"


"You wear whatever I choose."


"So, either way, you will go?"


"Is that not what I said?" Brian stubbed out the cigarette and gazed at Justin with lifted eyebrows. "Well?"


"Deal." Justin could not stop grinning. This was a win-win situation. Either way, Brian would attend the party with him. Who cared what costumes they wore?




"You're so dead."


Justin glared at Daphne in between dodging pedestrians as they walked down Liberty Avenue.


"What do you mean? I got him to go to a party. At Michael's. With nothing more than a stupid bet."


"Yeah, and exactly what do you think he's going to make you wear?"


"Who knows? I don't care what I wear anyway."


"You will when he makes you go naked."


Justin came to a full stop on the crowded sidewalk, causing the pierced and tattooed guy behind him to crash face first into his back. Muttering an apology, he stared back at Daphne who was trying not to laugh at the sudden dismay on Justin's face.


"Oh my God, I didn't even think of that."


"Well, of course, that's what he'll do. If he wins."


"Fuck! I better win then or the entire party is going to be a peep show to see Justin Taylor."


"Great! Can I come?"




Babylon was packed that night for the Bubbles and Butts contest. Brian and Justin stood at their usual spot above the floor, cruising the men dancing among the bubbles drifting from the ceiling.


"I can pick anyone I want, right?"


"Tell you what, I'll even let you pick first." Justin glanced over to find Brian smirking. "It won't save you, but I can be generous."


"Whatever." Justin had already spotted Jake, a slim brunet with eyes the color of emerald and a butt to die for. More importantly, Jake had a thing for Justin. Each time he saw Justin without Brian, he practically begged at Justin's feet to be fucked. An eager-to-please bottom, he always slid his skin-tight jeans down to his knees as soon as they entered the back room.


"Him." He pointed at Jake.


"Hmm. Bottomless Boy." Brian gestured at a tall dark-skinned man drinking at the bar. "Him."


"I've never seen that guy before." Justin frowned.


"Neither have I." Brian licked his lips. "Fresh meat."


Justin huffed, pushing himself up straight. "Well, shall we?"




Jake had his pants down, back to Justin, as soon as Brian and Justin picked a spot in the back room. Brian simply chuckled and began kissing his chosen prey, warming up to the task. Justin eyed the Latino with no small amount of irritation. It should be him under Brian's talented fingers and lips, not this scantily dressed hustler. Sighing, he turned to Jake, running his hands over the bent back, lightly licking the protruding spine. Yeah, he knew the rules of his relationship with Brian, but it did not mean he always enjoyed it.


Next to him, Brian gently coaxed his trick's jeans down slight hips and turned him around to survey the well-toned bottom. Taking some lube from his pocket, he offered it to Justin first before generously coating his fingers. Together, they prepared their lovers for the evening, teasing and tantalizing while each explained that no hands were allowed. Neither trick had any complaint, so they finished and unzipped their own pants.


"Ready?" Brian gave Justin a cocky grin.


Justin narrowed his eyes in response. "Ready."


Simultaneously, they entered their partners, ignoring the growing stares of other men nearby. They were used to being the center of attention, and the exhibitionism only enhanced their tricks' pleasure. Each set his own pace, Brian's leisurely and deep, Justin's focused and hard. Before long, their lovers' moans had attracted a small crowd, many of the voyeurs masturbating as they watched.


Justin found it difficult to immerse himself completely in the pleasure, the bet like a watchful shadow at his back. Brian seemed to have no such issue; indeed, his eyes were closed, head thrown back as he thrust forward repeatedly. Annoyed, Justin began to up the pace, grabbing Jake's shoulders and pulling him back with each thrust. Pleased, Jake grunted louder, groaning each time Justin hit his prostate. The Latino next to them was quieter, lower lip caught between his teeth as Brian went even deeper, but no faster than before.


I've got this, thought Justin. By Jake's noises, he was close, sweat beading his back, shuddering with Justin's every movement. Just a few more well aimed . . . .


A soft keen came from beside him, as Brian's trick arched backward, shooting his load far enough to hit the shoes of the nearest spectator. Brian let out a long breath, continuing to thrust through the Latino's orgasm before succumbing to his own with a loud grunt. As if Brian's pleasure was a trigger, Jake exploded also, shaking as he struggled to stay on his feet. Justin came last, his ecstasy tainted with dismay.


Brian pulled out, tossing the used condom in a nearby trash can, before turning to face Justin with a smirk.


"Need a hand?" He gestured to Justin's as yet open pants.


Justin sighed, yanking his jeans up and murmuring something to Jake, who looked crestfallen at his failure. Justin patted his arm and watched dismally as his favorite bottom walked away. With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and faced Brian, who was leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette. The Latino was already leaving.


"Okay, how did you do that? You weren't even going very fast."


Brian lifted his chin, releasing a stream of smoke. "It's not about speed or depth, little boy. It's about finesse."


"Whatever. You won, I guess. What costume do I have to wear?"


"Oh, don't worry. I'll have something for you on the night of the party."


With a grin, Brian headed for the exit, leaving a worried Justin to follow and several guys wishing they could get just one fuck from Brian Kinney.




Emmett swept around the first floor rooms of Ben and Michael's new house, lighting the various pumpkins strategically placed in corners and on tables. He was dressed full-out in a Morticia Addams costume, complete with wig and long, red fingernails fit to slice through wood. Michael had given him permission to decorate for the Halloween party, and he had devoted weeks to carving pumpkins and collecting spooky gag decorations, including a full-sized coffin with animatronic mummy. He paused to assess the cobwebs Ted was attaching to the front door.


"Looking good there, Teddy."


Ted tried not to roll his eyes. He had dressed as Gomez, at Emmett's insistence, but was not happy about it. The pin-striped suit was too hot for the warm October evening and the fake mustache itched.


"Glad I could oblige, despite the rash I will no doubt sport on my upper lip after tonight."


"Pssh. You look marvelous." With a wave of his lacquered talons, Emmett headed to the kitchen where Michael and Ben were setting out the buffet.


"You know I have to say I'm really surprised you didn't go with the Captain Astro costume. Brian still has it, I'm sure," he said, trying one of the pumpkin-shaped cookies.


"It didn't fit Ben or me, so we went with Batman and Robin," replied Michael, scratching his leg. "I really hate these stupid hose. How do women stand it?"


"At least only your eyes are covered by your mask," muttered Ben. "I can't breathe in this stupid helmet." He swatted at the ears protruding from the top of his Batman mask.


"Ah, I should have known! Comic book characters!" Lindsay entered the kitchen, wearing a beret, white blouse with beige pants, knee-high leather boots, and a gun slung around her hips. Gus, dressed as Spyro the Dragon, followed behind, eyes going wide at the treats on the table.


"Aw, honey, look at you!" Emmett patted Gus on the head, but the boy scurried behind his mother, gazing askance at the tall, ghoulishly dressed Morticia. "And who are you, Lindsay?"


"My partner in crime, of course," said Melanie, following behind dressed in a dark suit, derby hat, and another gun at her waist. "We're Bonnie and Clyde." She held JR, snuggled in a Pooh costume.


"How dyke-ish," laughed Michael, reaching for JR. "Hi, my cute little Pooh!"


"Where's Deb and Carl?" asked Lindsay.


"Carl had to work. Deb's coming though," said Ben.


"Never fear, I'm here!"


Debbie entered, bearing a covered casserole dish in each hand. She wore a snazzy silver dress with spaghetti straps and a short, black-haired wig. Her wrists were covered in bangles, her fingers in glittery rings.


"Mom, you came as yourself." Michael glared at her.


"I did not! I'm Liz Taylor!" Debbie let out an offended huff and handed Ben the dishes. She immediately zeroed on the children, first giving Gus a hug, then taking JR from Michael. "Aw, such a cutie!"


"Where's Brian and Justin, or aren't they coming?" asked Melanie.


"Surprisingly, they're coming," said Ben. "We didn't expect them to either."


"If they come naked, I'm taking pictures," said Emmett. At Michael's shocked expression, he shrugged. "Can't resist an opportunity to make a profit, can I?"


Michael's protest was interrupted by the sound of loud laughter coming from the entrance. Undoubtedly from Ted.


"Well, that must be Brian," said Mel, rolling her eyes. "Shall we go see what idiotic costume he's wearing?"


The entire assembly headed to the front door, stopping dead at the entrance to the foyer.


"We should have known." Michael sighed, shaking his head while Lindsay tried mightily to stifle a titter.


Brian wore the feathered helm and leather outfit of a Roman gladiator, his muscular arms and legs bared. In his hand, he held a thin chain connected to a leather collar around Justin's neck. Justin wore a simple white tunic, tied at the middle with a rope. Both wore sandals.


"So, what do you think?" Brian turned around, grinning while Justin shot him a glare. He was clearly not happy about his costume.


"The mighty gladiator with his slave?" Melanie laughed. "Justin, I can't believe you went along with this."


"He lost a bet." Brian jingled the chain. "I think he looks rather hot as a slave though, don't you?"


Justin merely rolled his eyes, reaching up to detach the chain from his collar. "Okay, we made the grand entrance. You promised I could take this damn thing off now."


"If you must." Brian pursed his lips with disappointment while looping the chain on his belt. "I rather liked it."


"You would." Justin stalked off to the kitchen.


Michael sidled up to Brian. "Please tell me you're not commando under there."


"We both are, Mikey. That was part of Justin's requirements and I couldn't let him come like this alone, right?" Brian smirked, admiring his partner's ass as he walked away.


Michael sighed, shaking his head. "Come eat. You won't eat carbs after seven, and there's plenty to be eaten!" He turned to shoot Brian a warning glance. "And no sexual activities in my bathroom!"


"No problem," replied Brian. "Justin and I will christen your front porch instead."


The collective groan from the entire group only made him smile more.




As soon as they were in the loft, Justin unbuckled the collar and tossed it to the floor in disgust.


"Glad that's over."


"Oh, come on." Brian set his keys and helmet on the kitchen counter. "It wasn't that bad."


"You kept brushing up against me every chance you got! Did you have to do that when I'm wearing this loose thing with no underwear?"


"But that's what made it fun!" Brian removed his belt and sword before approaching Justin, running the flat of his hand over Justin's ass. "You loved it."


"No, you did. But it's coming off because the party's over."


"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Not if you want to miss the best part."


"What would that be? Washing your laundry?"


Brian slowly slid his hand beneath the tunic. "You were a good slave. I think you deserve a reward."


"I'm not going to blow you if that's what . . . ah!" He froze, grabbing Brian's arms for support as Brian gently massaged his anus.


"You're not doing anything except what I tell you, and there are only three instructions I have for you."


"Yeah?" Justin was having a little trouble staying focused on his anger as Brian moved his hand to the front and ran a knuckle firmly up Justin's semi-erect cock.


"First, get on the bed." When Justin started to remove his sandals, Brian stopped him. "Costume stays on. I rather like it."


Justin hesitated but with a stern frown from Brian, he crawled on the bed and lay on his back, the tunic hiked up to his groin. Brain sauntered over to the bedside table and opened a drawer, removing two lengths of rope. Justin's eyes widened, but he did not resist when Brian raised his arms and tied both wrists to the bed.


"Second, you don't speak without permission." Brian began shedding his outfit, his eyes never leaving Justin's. He smiled when he saw Justin take in his erection. "Third, you're to relax and stop thinking so much."


"Brian . . . ." Justin looked halfway between irritated and aroused. Brian shushed him with a sensual kiss, running his fingers through Justin's hair.


"Trust me, okay? I'll make wearing this costume well worth it."


Brian briefly considered blindfolding Justin also, but decided against it. After being bashed, it had taken two years for Justin to feel comfortable with bondage again. Brian figured he should not press his luck. After all, his goal was for Justin to relax, not become nervous.


He spent several minutes massaging Justin's legs and then removed his sandals to rub his feet. Justin lay still, watching intently. When Brian pushed the tunic up to his chest, he tensed, but Brian merely trailed his fingers along Justin's groin, bypassing the full erection to explore Justin's abdomen and chest. He met no resistance, only a soft sigh of pleasure.


Finally, lowering his head, he gave Justin's cock the attention it desired. It took less than two minutes before Justin was panting, already close from Brian's ministrations. He moaned a warning, but Brian kept going, bringing Justin right to the brink before withdrawing with a devilish grin.


"Brian!" Agitated, Justin yanked against the restraints, but they held firm.


"Shh." Brian dipped his tongue into Justin's mouth, kissing him deeply before pulling back. "No talking, remember?"


Justin released a frustrated huff, but Brian ignored him, pushing back the younger man's knees to expose his ass. His tongue lapped eagerly over every sensitive spot, from balls to anus, until Justin was writhing beneath him. Wetting one finger, he slowly inserted it, using his other arm to keep Justin's legs back. Justin arched, his cocking leaking profusely as he reached desperately for release. Again, Brian withdrew, denying him.


That was when Justin realized what he was doing. Brian was edging him.


Oh God, it had been a long time since Brian had last done this, and then he had tortured Justin for a good two hours. Was that what he was planning to do tonight?


"Stop." The soft voice held a definite note of command, the one Justin remembered from when he worked at Vanguard. "You're thinking too much. The only thing you should be doing right now is feeling. Let it go, Justin."


Fuck, he would never admit it, but he loved when Brian got like this in bed . . . controlling. Closing his eyes, he tried to obey, and with the places Brian's tongue was going, it was easy.




He watched with satisfaction as Justin began to lose himself in the pleasure. It was not always a simple thing to get Justin to this point. The twat had a tendency to analyze every emotion and action. Bringing Justin to release was easy; bringing his mind and body to complete submission was not. Brian enjoyed the challenge and had yet to fail.


Once, he asked Justin to describe how it felt to let go completely, and the boy said it was like “floating in a myriad of colors." Only an artist would say that, Brian figured. People who lived the dom/sub lifestyle called it "subspace,” but Justin laughed when Brian told him that. Subspace is a dark basement, he said, and the euphoria is anything but dark. Brian figured that people who relied on pain to achieve pleasure probably preferred a dark basement. He himself did not see the draw of submission, but then an abusive childhood would explain that. Having suffered unwanted pain from his father, he had no intention of visiting that kind of pain on anyone else.


He knew when Justin reached that floating state because he stopped begging. Every touch brought a shudder or a yank on his restraints, but he did not try to bring himself release nor did he ask for it. He remained relaxed for the most part, except for his cock, which was flushed deep red and incredibly hard the entire time. Brian wished he could take a picture of this, of Justin with the white tunic bunched at his armpits, body writhing slowly under a sheen of sweat. He could not imagine anything more hot.


He continued to tease with one hand while awkwardly sheathing and lubing his own erection. Keeping a firm squeeze on Justin's cock to prevent release, he slowly entered the boy, relishing the hoarse groan as Justin arched in an attempt to bring him deeper. Only when he was seated fully did he loosen his grip and leaned forward to whisper in Justin's ear.


"Very good. You can come now."


Brian's voice penetrated through the thick fog surrounding Justin's mind, and he arched, eyes wide and unseeing as he came hard over his own chest. Brian held completely still inside him, moaning as each contraction milked his cock perfectly. He did not even have to thrust, Justin's orgasm enough to throw him over the edge, and he came without ever moving his hips, a single name falling from his lips.


It was at least ten minutes before he could move again, withdrawing reluctantly. Justin was still lost to the world and would be for a while; Brian knew this from past experience. Carefully, he tied off the condom and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. Afterwards, he gently untied Justin's wrists, massaging them to renew the circulation. Justin never even stirred, and he had never looked more beautiful, virtually unconscious and sprawled wantonly on the bed. Brian took a wet washcloth and cleaned him up before climbing back into bed and lying next to his lover, stroking his hair.


Justin finally opened his eyes and struggled to focus on the face next to his.


"Sorry. How long was I out this time?"


"About thirty minutes." Brian smirked. "I must have done really good."


Justin huffed a laugh, rubbing his wrists absently. "Was I a good slave?"


"The best." Brian tugged at the tunic Justin still wore. "I think we should keep this. And the gladiator costume."


"Only if you agree to go to more Halloween parties."


Brian grimaced, considering the proposal. "I suppose I can do that so long as my slave agrees to put out for me."




Master and Slave sealed the agreement with a kiss.