NOTE TO READERS: My daughter says she would like to make a banner for this story. I saw a photo once with Gale Harold in overalls. If anyone knows of this picture, can you please send it my way? Please? Thanks.
Title: Ma, Can I keep him?
Pairing: B/J, implied E/J; also possibly, inter-species pairing (Hey, we're still not sure of Mikey's parentage)
Warnings: None so far. It is afterall a cannibal fic. Nothing squicky, just allusions to things that might make people uncomfortable. The word 'eviscerate' is used quite a bit.
Disclaimers: I don't own Cowlip or the boys. I am most assuredly not Spartacus.
Summary: This is crack!fic. It is a cannibal crack!fic. It is tongue-in-cheek black humor. This is the warning within the summary. Debbie is the Sweeney Todd type living in some backwater town (not too far from Pittsburgh) with her mentally disturbed son, Mikey (yes, I stuck to canon) and adopted son, Brian. Justin and Ethan are passing through.
Previous Chapters in my memories
'Love' according to Brian, was a four-letter word.
'Love' was not real and it was dishonest. Love had no place in a world where your mother disappeared in the middle of the night with her more engaging lover. Love had no place in a world where a father who was indifferent to you in the first place abandons their six year old son at a farm in the middle of nowhere with an outlandish mother, her shady brother, mentally retarded son and their questionable eating practices so he could set off for adventures he was denied before because of said son. Of course, it was many years later that Brian learned the truth of his dear old dad's disappearance. Brian was never bothered by the fact that he really didn't notice the difference much without his father. Brian also noted the fact that when he learned the truth, he didn't really seem to care.
'Love' was a dirty word to Brian - tossed around by women talking about how they love this and love that, by nelly queens like Emmett who loved absolutely everything.
Debbie was constantly expounding on the virtures of love and how everyone needed it in their lives. She felt that Brian was much too cynical and that someday he would change his tune when he found the right someone. Brian always thought that was a strange sentiment coming from a woman who thought that Homo sapiens were part of the four food groups.
He was always perplexed at the way the word 'fuck' was considered the ultimate in profanity. There were so many more offensive words out there ('love' included) that he could never understand why 'fuck' was given such a bad rap. It was a wonderful, perfect word in Brian's opinion. In its noun form, it meant 'the act of sexual intercourse,' as in "Justin will probably be a great 'fuck.'" As a verb, it meant 'to have sexual intercourse with' as in "I plan to 'fuck' Justin senseless as soon as he wakes up." You add the '-ing' suffix and suddenly you have an adjective that can be used to describe absolutely everything with more intensity as in "Justin has the most 'fucking' perfect ass" or an adverb as an intensifier as in "What was taking Justin so 'fucking' long to wake up?" All this was going through Brian's head as he looked at the kid lying on his very expensive set of sheets. The word 'fuck' was real, tangible, visceral. It denoted truth and reality.
The word 'love' was pathetic in comparison and truly a joke.
He found that he was thinking about these things too much since he found the kid. There was only 'fucking' as far as he was concerned and that's what he was currently thinking about. He was so fucking horny right now. That was all. The boy was a means to an end.
Brian had stripped out of his overalls and shirt right down to his briefs and lay down next to the still sleeping Justin. Brian brushed the soft strands of hair from Justin's forehead and then ran his hand through the mop of golden hair and stopped when he felt a small scar just at the base of his temple. He would have to find out about that later. He found himself wondering what the kid washed his hair with, it was so soft. He then turned his exploration to the soft skin of his cheeks - not one imperfection, not one blemish - right over the soft upturned lips and finally stopping when he felt movement.
Brian made note that he had given Justin just the right amount of sedatives - he would need to know that for future use. Brian had business to conduct in the middle of the night and it just wouldn't do to have Justin wake up during that time.
Brian was smart enough to know that watching someone you were currently hooked up with rending and tearing at human flesh might put them off to you just a bit.
Before Justin completely woke up, Brian leaned over and whispered into the boy's ear ever so softly and quietly so not even Brian himself could hear, "Can I keep you?" Brian knew this had nothing to do with love but if he was truthful and honest with himself, he knew what he wanted and the boy was what he wanted.
As Brian was lamenting on 'love' and 'fucking,' one Justin Taylor was just coming back out of a thick fog. He remembered being in this particular fog once before. He had been at his Senior Prom and had been dancing with his best friend, Daphne. Then there was a fellow student, a Neanderthal by the name of Chris Hobbs, who decided to whack Justin upside the head with a baseball bat, just for being different. Justin thought that there were better ways for preparing for Baseball Spring Training.
He hadn't woken up for at least a week and when he had, he remembered this very same particular fog. When he came out of the coma, he noticed that there were certain things he didn't remember - events, people, names. This time was no different. He could remember graduating from high school, attending the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts, his father arguing about tuition, riding a motorcycle through some very pretty countryside and then the sensation of flying through the air. Justin thought the feeling was ever so liberating until, of course, the ground was getting closer and closer and the only thought going through Justin's head was "Oh shit, this was gonna hurt." He also remembered thinking he had gone to Heaven and God was a beautiful man with a scruffy beard and big, hazel colored eyes and the same said man telling him he was going somewhere safe and that he most assuredly wasn't God.
When Justin opened his eyes, the same man from his memories was laying there next to him. Justin couldn't help but think at this moment in time that he was seriously forgetting something. It was something important. He knew that. What though, he couldn't figure out.
"Hi," the strange man said laying mostly naked in the bed with him. To be fair though, of course, Justin noticed that he was mostly naked also. "I'm Brian, Brian Kinney. In case...you were wondering," he chuckled.
Justin ran his fingers through Brian's beard and looked straight at the man before him. "I'm Justin Tay-..."
"Justin Taylor. Yeah, I know. Your wallet is on the dresser. Are you...are you okay? You were thrown pretty far from the motorcycle."
"Yeah, I think...I think I am. I just can't help thinking I'm forgetting something," Justin said while scrunching his nose. Justin looked over at Brian and ran his fingers through the beard once more while stroking his cheeks. He then started to run his fingers through the unruly hair that was sticking up in every direction.
Brian was a patient man but if something didn't happen soon, he would have to take matters into his own hands and Brian was not really that kind of man. Sure he was a cannibal who was used to eviscerating and skinning humans, but he wasn't into non-consensual sex - that was just - inhuman.
"Look, you look tired. Maybe you should rest some more. I can come..."
"No! Stay, please?" Justin pleaded with Brian while reaching his hand out for him. There was something about the enigma that was Brian Kinney before him. Something that felt right. He felt safe with Brian. Of course, there were other parts of his body that felt different things towards one Mr. Kinney.
"Okay, you don't have to beg me," Brian chuckled.
"You look like the kind of guy that makes men beg all the time," Justin said with just the hint of a seductive tone.
"Yeah, they do," Brian thought. Only it was usually, 'Please, oh God, no, don't kill me,' 'Please stop, it hurts so much,' or 'Please, just make it quick.'
Brian lay next to Justin again and held the kid. Brian knew Justin had taken quite a fall - he was probably in shock and he figured maybe this wasn't quite the right time to start in with his plans for him.
"You saved me, didn't you?"
Brian nodded his head in the affirmative. Brian figured it wasn't a lie if the truth were mixed in there too.
"You know, in most societies, when someone saves someone's life, they owe them. So I guess...I sort of...owe...you." As Justin was saying this, he was rubbing up against Brian very slowly.
Okay, Brian thought, maybe now was the right time afterall.
Brian grabbed Justin by the back of his head and kissed him deeply.
Brian considered himself to be a fine connoisseur of human flesh, and this kid's lips were probably the most tastiest things he'd ever had. Fuck Deb's lemon bars - this kid was his fucking dessert from now on.
Brian looked down to see Justin pulling at his briefs. Justin knew enough to know that this was not the way he usually did things but for some reason, Brian brought out a certain urge out in him, animalistic in nature and damned if he was going to be stopped now. He still couldn't help the fact that he knew he was forgetting something. Something very important.
But it wasn't really that important at the moment.
"Tell me Justin...," Brian said while rolling his lips in between his teeth. "Do you know that the word 'fuck' has many meanings and variations. It's really quite flexible and versatile."
Brian then showed Justin the meaning of the word several times over and over and being that he himself, was a fair man and knew that turnabout was fair play, Justin showed Brian just how flexible and versatile he himself, could be.
Go to chapter 6
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