You, my readers, gave me a bunch of words and I had to come up with a story using at least one of the words.
Tonight's prompt is 'musical' given to me by girloftheburbs.
Title: Out of the Closet
Day 7 in the Brian/Justin 'Where should we fuck next?' series. This takes place right after the backroom has been closed by Stockwell in Season 3.
Summary: Justin and Brian have to come up with a new place to have sex publicly every day during Stockwell's reign of terror.
Disclaimer: I down own the boys or Cowlip. My kitchen smells like garlic.
Day 1 - A night at the park
Day 2 - Time for that bi-yearly check up!
Day 3 - Sort of like Saturn 3 - only with guys
Day 4 - But it's not even Friday
Day 5 - Old Men and their war stories
Day 6 - What all good flea-bag hotels are good for
"Okay, Brian. Really, this is just wrong. Wrong with a capital 'W.'"
"No, it's great," Brian whispered as he started to pull Justin's jeans down.
Justin turned around only to have Brian turn him once more to face the wall. "But the janitor's closet?"
"Lots of people do it in the closet," Brian shrugged as he bit Justin's ear. "We did it in the closet at Vanguard"
"But this is my old high school Brian!" Justin screeched in a subdued voice.
"Shhh, keep your voice down," Brian murmured.
"And on the night of their musical?"
"It's romantic," Brian snickered. "We have music in the background."
"'Bye Bye Birdie,'" Justin said as he scrunched his nose. "Why do they always perform 'Bye Bye Birdie?'"
Justin gasped as he felt Brian's fingers start to penetrate him. "Just be glad it's not 'Oklahoma.'"
Suddenly the door opened just as Brian was about to enter his young lover, letting in the dim light from the dark hallway. The shape of a gangly man outlined the doorway. "Who's there?" the man asked as he peeked his head into the closet, squinting through his coke-bottle eyeglasses.
"Oh this is good. First the cannibal from the Y and now Mr. Magoo," Brian mused.
"Who in the hell are you?" the man asked in irritation.
"Just stay still Brian," Justin whispered. "Maybe he can't see us."
"Yeah, we won't wave our hands around in his face," Brian muttered "He's not a fucking T-Rex Justin!"
"Hey I know you," the man said as he readjusted his glasses and peered more closely at Justin. "You used to go here, right?"
"Yeah, I never forget a face, especially yours."
"Oh great," Justin sighed. "Yeah, I went here." How could he not know who he was?
"Michael Turnblach. Yeah, I remember you. Used to write all over the damn desks with perm-a-nent marker," the janitor groused.
"Michael Turnblach," Justin droned. "Michael Turnblach was Indian."
"Turnblach? That's an Indian name?" Brian exclaimed.
"Yeah, you ain't him," the janitor agreed. "Hey I know! You were one of those damn seniors, weren't you? One of the ones who stole that big plastic cow off the top of Myer's Dairy roof and put it in the principals' office as a senior prank! You punks know how long it took me to get that thing out of his office?"
"Um...no...that wasn't me," Justin stuttered, silently laughing at the fact this man thought he could have possibly been one of the moron football players who had actually gotten away with the prank. "No but I know who the punks were who did it and I could give you their home addresses. Make sure when you go there, you tell them Chris Hobbs was the one who ratted them out."
"Naw, you ain't one of them," the man continued as if he hadn't heard a thing Justin had said. "I know it!"
"Oh God," Brian laughed. "I'm fucking hard as a rock and we're playing twenty questions with Stevie Wonder."
"I know! It finally came to me. You're that girl..."
"Wha...what?!?!" Justin sputtered indignantly while Brian started chuckling harder in the corner.
"Yeah, that cheerleader that got knocked up at the end of the year. Mitsy, Missy, uh..."
"Misty, Misty Monday," Justin droned.
"Yeah that's it!" the vision-impaired man shouted as he slapped his knee.
"Misty Monday?" Brian echoed. "That sounds like a porn star's name."
"You think I'm Misty? I'm a guy! Hello! A guy!" Justin bellowed at him. "I have a cock. A cock. You'd know one if you saw one." Brian came up behind him and put his arms around his upper chest in a comforting embrace.
"Shhh, it's okay," Brian cooed.
"I think its time for another thickness on those lenses," Justin grumbled. "I'm a guy," he pouted.
"You should go home. Be with that baby of yours. Not cavortin' around with strange men," the janitor chastised.
"Actually, I'm the baby's father," Brian nodded and then addressed Justin, "and honey, we really should get back home to the baby."
"Brian...he thinks I'm a girl. A girl that got knocked up," Justin said wearily.
"You know young mothers," Brian condescended.
"Yep, I hear ya," he said and with that, the janitor walked away from the closet and down the dark hallway.
Letting out a breath Brian had been holding in, he turned to his young lover. "Let's go home Sunshine. I pretty much lost the urge after the thought of you..."
"...Named Misty Monday."
"Yeah, whatever, and hey Brian? What makes you think the baby is even yours?"
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