Oh No, You Didn't! – AU series Part 1/10

[guavejuice]

Banner by urugwaj thank you so much!!!


Author:guavejuice
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Beta:Kim predec2 Can't thank you enough!!
Alternate POV's
A/N:This is not a WIP. I'll be posting regularly.
Disclaimer:I own nothing but this story.
Comments are love.


Part 1

Brian's POV

It's New Year's Fucking Eve and I'm in New York City, standing on the balcony of a ridiculously expensive (even by my own high standards ) hotel suite in Chelsea overlooking the street. There's a buzz in the night air as I inhale and savor the sweet smoke of the joint currently in my hand.

I should be on top of the world. I flew in from Pittsburgh earlier this week to close a three-million dollar deal with this new, hot company to create an ad campaign for their new alcoholic beverage. I'm in the city that never sleeps, and I could fuck practically anyone I want. Well, the thing is I'm not so sure I want to. I could have used the CEO's private jet to be back in the Pitts right in time for Babylon's New Year's Eve traditional fuck fest, but I decided to stay here instead.

I take one last drag from my joint and I retreat back inside my room to have a go at the mini bar.

Shit! These bottles are way too small.

I pace across the room thinking I could have spent this New Year's Eve fucking scores of eager tricks in the back room at Babylon, letting Michael and the rest of my adoring gang wait by the bar and order my favorite drink for me as they anticipated the usual, sarcastic comments I would throw their way. It's not that I miss them, I don't. And I won't miss Debbie's New Year's Day lunch, either. I had enough with her Christmas Eve dinner a few weeks ago. For some reason she thought it would be a good time then for her to lecture me about how she knew me for far too long and regrettably too well and how at my age it's about time I stop fucking around and start thinking about settling down. Who does she think she is, my mom?

Fuck, I better not start thinking now about that old, fucking, cold-hearted bitch, aka St. Joan, or about the old bastard she married just so she wouldn't have to endure the embarrassment of having to go through an abortion with me, the unwanted child, or I might just heave myself off this damn building.

Fuck! Enough about that. It's fucking New Year's Eve. I'd better go out and take to the street. I'll check the bars and clubs and maybe even stand in the cold with the crowd in Times Square while we're all waiting for the ball to drop.

I must find someone who can make my balls drop first, though.

________________________________________

Justin's POV

It's fucking New Year's Eve. It's the busiest night here at the club, but I can't be bothered. A couple of weeks ago I gave the club owner some rather mediocre (even by my very high standards ) head. The old sleaze bag obviously thought it was the most amazing thing he'd ever had, so he promoted me to dancing on the bar. The tips are good and the guys all look hot from up here, but it's not nearly enough.

I work in this hair salon on Bleaker Street during the day. I guess my mom's greatest fear actually came true. Once she found out I was gay she feared I would run away to New York City and become a hairdresser, a go-go boy, or both. What she doesn't know, and what I'll never tell her, is that after my dad practically threw me out of the house, and right after I took the first Greyhound out of the Pitts and arrived in New York City, I was so desperate that I found a job at prettyboys.com. And no, I'm not just going to guy's parties or to their lavish apartments and hotel rooms for decoration. Let's face it, I became a hustler. A very high-end hustler, but a trick is a trick, right?

So now I'm dancing on the bar wearing nothing but some tiny, white briefs and a pair of rather stupid angel wings. I have a great ass and I'm blond, which is always a plus, but for some reason I feel I want more.

I don't miss mom's holiday dinners. Not at all. Maybe it's because I haven't been to one in the past three years since I left when I was seventeen. My baby sister Molly probably doesn't even remember me, either.

I do miss something, though. I don't know what, but I know it's not there yet.

TBC…