Sugar Daddies
“And then he flew them both to Paris,” Emmett gushed with a longing look in his
eye. “Isn’t that the most romantic thing you ever heard?”
“Sounds like a pile of bullshit to me,” Brian stated emphatically.
“You would say that,” Emmett accused.
“I merely state the facts. That old queen doesn’t have the money to take Brandon
anywhere.”
“That shows what you know, Mr. Kinney. Gregory Ashton inherited a sizeable
fortune from his gay uncle John who had married a rich wife. Of course they had
no children so he invested wisely and lived a very fine standard of life with
his lady, who didn’t seem to mind that John had young men on the side.”
“Sexless marriage,” Brian snorted. “Sounds about right.”
“They seemed happy according to Gregory. And he managed to amass quite the stock
portfolio, especially after his dear wife died.”
“And Gregory inherited everything from his uncle when he died?” Justin asked. He
had been listening intently to Emmett’s drawn out tale of Brandon’s latest
conquest.
“Don’t get any ideas, little boy,” Brian warned as he saw the look in Justin’s
eye. “I’m not planning to kick off any time soon.”
“I know,” Justin said with a quick wink to Emmett. “I was just wondering how I
could find a sugar daddy who would take me to Paris.”
Brian raised an eyebrow but remained silent.
“Most of Babylon would say you already got yourself a sugar daddy, Justin
honey,” Emmett replied with a sly grin.
“I’m no sugar daddy,” Brian replied firmly. He fucking hated that term.
“Um,” Justin said biting his lip. He knew Brian detested being called his sugar
daddy. “Let’s dance,” he said dragging Brian onto the dance floor.
Justin wiggled his hips and sidled up against Brian as he found the rhythm of
the music. Brian merely stood like stone staring at something across the room.
“Brian,” Justin said. He got no response. “Brian!”
“This place is fucked. I’m going home.”
“Brian, wait!” But Brian Kinney was already heading for the door to leave
Babylon. Justin ran after him. He finally caught up with Brian beside the
Corvette. “Emmett was only kidding, you know,” Justin said trying to mollify his
partner.
“The fuck he was!” Brian unlocked the car.
“Emmett’s a trip. He loves telling stories.”
“At my expense.”
“Brian, he’s your friend. He was just having fun.”
“Strange, but I didn’t see the humor in it,” Brian said sarcastically. He opened
the door of the Corvette and got in.
“Don’t go,” Justin pleaded.
“Why not?” Brian asked as he rolled down the window. “I’m sure you can find
another sugar daddy with no trouble at all. Maybe he’ll take you on that trip to
Paris.” Brian started the car.
Justin ran around the back of the car, staring at Brian and willing him not to
drive away. He wanted to get to the other side of the car before Brian could
drive off without him. Brian smiled slightly knowing what Justin was doing. He
revved the car just to taunt his young lover. Brian was watching in the side
mirror of the Corvette for Justin to come into view. He caught a glimpse of
Justin and was about to pull ahead. That would teach Justin a lesson about
taunting him. Suddenly Justin disappeared from view in the mirror.
“What the fuck?” Brian said. He put the car in neutral and pulled on the
emergency brake. He quickly got out of the car racing around the back of the
Corvette to find out what had happened to Justin.
“I’m down here,” Justin said as he saw Brian come around the car.
Brian stopped short when he saw Justin lying on the pavement holding his leg.
There was blood all over the knee of his cargo pants.
“I tripped,” Justin said in a pitiful voice. “My knee.”
“Shit!” Brian replied as he kneeled down beside Justin. He lifted the material
of the cargo pants away from a scraped and bloody knee. “You did a number on
it,” Brian said. “I think you’ll need some stitches.”
“It’s just scraped, isn’t it?” Justin asked worry knitting his brows. He didn’t
really want to look at his knee and see how bad it probably was.
“Mostly scraped, but there’s a piece of glass sticking out of it. You must have
fallen on a broken bottle or something,” Brian said carefully. “I’m taking you
to emergency.”
“No,” Justin moaned. “Can’t you pull the glass out? I don’t want to go to the
hospital.”
“I can do lots of things, but a doctor I’m not!” He took Justin’s shoulders and
gently lifted him to his feet. “Don’t step on that leg. Lean on me. We’re going
to emergency.” Carefully Brian helped Justin into the car, trying not to jostle
the leg or make it more painful. “Here, put this around your knee, but don’t
press. You’ll shove the glass in further if you do.” He handed Justin a hand
towel.
“Is this…?”
“Yeah, my cum towel, but it’s been freshly laundered,” Brian assured him as he
climbed behind the wheel.
“Jesus!” Justin gasped, but he placed the towel around his leg, making sure it
wasn’t too tight, but also trying to prevent getting blood all over Brian’s
precious car.
Brian fishtailed the car in his hurry to get to Allegheny General.
******
“I’m fine, Brian, really,” Justin said as he laid on their bed in the loft. “The
emergency doctor said so.”
“I heard him,” Brian said.
“I’m sorry,” Justin said sadly.
“Sorry, what the fuck are you sorry for?”
“I ruined your evening.”
Brian shook his head at his silly partner. “Justin, I was being an asshole to
you … and to Emmett. I don’t give a fuck what people think of me.”
“Yes you do, but you never let on,” Justin said softly.
Brian raised an eyebrow. Justin had always been onto him. Now was apparently no
different. “Go to sleep.”
“My knee’s throbbing,” Justin complained.
“They got the glass out and stitched it up. I’ll get the painkillers we picked
up,” Brian said going down the steps to find the prescription he had stuck in
his jacket pocket when he picked it up from the pharmacy. “Are you sure you can
take these?”
“You heard me tell the doctor what I was allergic to. He said these would be
fine.”
“Hope the fucker knows what he’s talking about,” Brian said handing the small
bottle to Justin. “What do you want to take it with – juice or water?”
“Juice.”
Brian disappeared again to get some juice from the fridge.
“Here,” Brian said handing Justin a glass of guava juice. That was all that was
left in the fridge. “Take your pill and go to sleep.”
“Easier said than done,” Justin replied, but he took the pill and drank most of
the juice.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, don’t leave me. Stay with me,” Justin begged.
“I might hit your knee in my sleep,” Brian tried to explain logically.
“And your dick might fall into my ass,” Justin replied. “I don’t want to be
alone, Brian, please.”
“Okay,” Brian said giving in. He slipped out of his clothes leaving his briefs
on. He climbed under the covers. “Are you happy now?’
“Are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you? For what?”
“We can’t have sex, at least not without a lot of trouble.” Justin looked like
he was prepared to let Brian have his way with him, even if it hurt like a
motherfucker. “I’m sorry,” he added. He really was sorry he had teased Brian and
then tripped and injured himself.
“Will you shut the fuck up about being sorry!” Brian ordered. He reached under
Justin’s shoulders and pulled his lover against his body. He felt Justin sigh
and sniffle a little bit, so he held on knowing Justin needed comfort. “Better?”
he asked.
“Much.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I don’t think of you as a sugar daddy, you know,” Justin whispered. “I love
you.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you get so upset?” Justin asked.
“Sometimes I don’t like being reminded how much older I am than you.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that.”
“I know. I don’t expect you to do anything.”
“I was only kidding about finding a sugar daddy.”
“I know.”
“Nobody would want me now. I’m damaged goods,” Justin said barely above a
whisper.
“Don’t ever say that,” Brian ordered steel in his voice. “You’re … good just the
way you are.”
“You think so?”
“I do,” Brian admitted. He could see the smile that lit up Justin’s face in the
dim light of the loft. “Do you really want to go to Paris?” Brian asked after a
couple of minutes.
“Paris or Rome … or London,” Justin said softly. The painkillers must be kicking
in.
“Maybe I could use a vacation,” Brian mused aloud. “What do think?”
“Hmm,” Justin said as he fell asleep.
Brian knew he had been let off the hook. Justin probably wouldn’t remember what
he had just been offered. Brian closed his own eyes, but he still held the
slender body gently against his own. Maybe he would talk to Justin in the
morning. Maybe he did need a vacation. Paris would be nice, or Rome or London.
There were lots of places they could go.
Then Brian thought about all the talk they would generate if they did go away.
He would be called Justin’s sugar daddy. He knew that would happen. He could
hear the gossips at the diner and at Babylon. But a trip with Justin was a good
thing. So what if they called him a sugar daddy. He and Justin knew what they
were to each other, so fuck them all, as Emmett was wont to say. Occasionally
Emmett was right about something.
Brian decided he would look into flights to Paris in the morning. He closed his
eyes and slept peacefully with his decision.
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