Tales of the City fic: Uncomplicated (Brian/Mouse, NC-17)
Another microfandom fic, a bit of plotless buddy-sex porn. Just for the fun of it.

Title: Uncomplicated
Fandom: Tales of the City
Pairing: Brian/Mouse
Rating: Adult
Word count: ~1800
Disclaimer: Tales of the City and its characters belong to Armistead Maupin, American Playhouse, and a bunch of other people who are not me. This is just for fun, not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.

Acknowledgements: A thousand thanks to isiscolo. I couldn't ask for a better beta, nor a better friend. Any remaining flaws or failings in this story are entirely my fault.

Notes: In a recent LJ post I wrote: "I cannot believe in any universe in which Brian and Mouse didn't get each other off, at least once. I refuse to believe that this did not happen. In fact, somebody should write them getting stoned and horny and getting it on." A bunch of people agreed. So I did.

~ * ~

The rooftop apartment was empty again, now that the creepy guy was gone, his stuff cleared out.

It was little more than a windowed storage room with a tiny, cramped bathroom, really, but there was some furniture left behind – a couple of chairs, a rickety little table, and the double bed with the sagging mattress, now shoved up against one wall – and Brian had taken to coming up here late at night, especially on nights when he'd struck out. The furnishings were crap, but the view couldn't be beat, especially on this atypically balmy, starlit summer night.

He was three tokes into his first joint, lounging on the bed in the deepening twilight, idly rubbing his crotch and thinking about jerking off, when he heard footsteps outside. He glanced down at his half-hard cock, clearly visible through his snug jeans, and thought about changing position to make it less obvious, but it didn't seem worth the trouble. "Fuck it," he muttered, breathing out a lungful of spent Colombian.

Mouse ducked his head in through the open door. "I saw you come up," he said. "Mind some company?"

Brian took another toke and waved him in, his melancholy abruptly lightening.

Mouse crawled onto the bed and tossed a pillow up against the wall. He settled in beside Brian, his back against the wall, their shoulders and splayed knees not quite touching. He accepted the joint from Brian, took a deep hit, and handed it back.

Brian leaned his head back against the wall and slowly breathed smoke out through his nose, watching it drift lazily toward the ceiling. The hazy pleasure was a quiet buzz in his brain, his skin, his nerve endings. In his cock. "This is the third Friday night in a row that I haven't got laid," he said finally, and took another long, slow toke.

"I stopped counting weeks ago," Mouse said.

"All I want is some nice, uncomplicated sex. Why is this so hard?"

"Because you're trying to have it with women?" Mouse asked, surprising a laugh out of Brian. "I mean, okay, you're not so bad with women who are just friends, but the ones you want to screw... with them you're really kind of a dick."

Brian sucked on the joint and handed it to Mouse. "I'm sure a lot of them would agree with you." He looked over at Mouse and grinned. "We're a sorry pair, aren't we?"

Mouse smiled back. "You make a lousy straight guy." He took a hit off the joint and held it out to Brian.

Brian breathed out the last of the smoke in his lungs and looked at the joint in Mouse's hand. It seemed like too much trouble to take it from him, so he lifted Mouse's hand to his mouth and sucked on the joint, still held between Mouse's thumb and fingertips.

Mouse snorted out a choked laugh, smoke escaping in a puff. He looked at Brian, his eyes heavy-lidded. Never took much to get Mouse high. "You and me, we're..." he waved a hand... "backwards. Reversed."

"What?" Laughter rippled up from Brian's belly.

"I want to find Mister Right and settle down and live happily ever after, which is what women want. If I were a straight guy, I'd be every woman's dream come true. You want to fuck around with a lot of hot, pretty women that you never have to see or talk to again. That's what lots of gay guys want, except for the women thing. I mean, you know. With men."

Laughing, Brian flopped on his back, one leg draped half over Mouse's thigh, the other dangling off the bed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mouse looked at him, grinning, and sucked on the joint. "I mean," he said, his words wreathed in smoke, "that I should be straight and you should be gay. As pretty as you are, you'd get more action than even you could ever hope for." His eyes dropped, grew even heavier-lidded.

Brian looked down to see what Mouse was looking at. Oh. He wasn't half hard any more, was he? Full salute now. All he needed was a flag. He grinned up at Mouse and flipped him a salute. "Told you pot makes me horny."

Mouse looked down at his own crotch, and Brian's eyes followed him. Wow. Matched set.

Brian's head dropped back to the mattress and his arms splayed wide, laugher spilling out of him. "It'd make everything a lot simpler, wouldn't it?"

"You should try it some time." Mouse's voice had gone soft and low, and it felt only right and natural when his hand dropped to Brian's thigh and rested there, big and warm. "You never know. You might like it."

Mouse's other hand brought the joint down to Brian's mouth, fingertips resting delicately on his lips like an invitation. Brian's cock pulsed in his jeans. When he took the joint between his lips and sucked, it felt like he was kissing Mouse's fingers, and it was all he could do not to chase them with his tongue when Mouse lifted his hand.

Mouse sucked in a breath. "Jesus, you're a gay boy's wet dream. Don't you know that seducing a hot straight guy is fantasy number one?"

Mouse's hand was rubbing Brian's inner thigh now. It ventured an inch or two higher, and Brian's cock pulsed again. Jesus. "Fuck," he whispered, closing his eyes. He didn't move. "I'm so goddamn horny."

"Me, too." Mouse's hand inched slowly, so slowly up Brian's thigh.

Brian felt the bed shift and opened his eyes to see Mouse dropping the roach into an ashtray on the little table. He looked down at Mouse's hand, just inches from his groin. His cock swelled harder and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "I wouldn't say no."

Mouse's eyes were dark and his pupils were huge. "Jesus, this is dumb," he whispered, running his hand up to cup Brian's cock.

"Yeah," Brian gasped, "really stupid," and thrust up into Mouse's palm.

Mouse's hands were all over him now, unsnapping, unzipping, tugging his jeans down his thighs. A heartbeat later, his cock was deep inside Mouse's hot, wet, welcoming mouth, and Christ, no woman had ever taken him so deep.

Brian grabbed frantically at the sides of the mattress, hanging on tight. His stomach muscles twitched and contracted as Mouse ran his hands up under Brian's shirt, up his belly and over his chest, big and warm and sure. Mouse's throat did something around the head of Brian's cock that made the heat leap in him. "Jesus!"

Mouse made a low humming sound that Brian could feel as much as hear, a tiny vibration through his cock and down into his balls. He tongued the underside of Brian's cock, a wicked fast flutter, and then took him deep again and sucked. Hard.

"Oh, God." Brian was panting now, embarrassingly close to coming already. Oh, Jesus. He needed to... needed to warn Mouse... he needed... "Fuck!" He arched off the mattress, helplessly thrusting deep into Mouse's mouth, and came, white-out blinding pleasure that left him sobbing for breath.

Mouse was a gentleman. Southern gentleman, Brian thought through the haze of pleasure-blind stupor, waited until Brian was all done coming, all done, sucked dry, licked clean, before he squirmed his way up to straddle Brian's thigh and unzipped his own pants, pulling out his cock.

Brian stared up at him, lips and eyelids half parted, knowing he should do something but still too paralyzed, his brains still scattered to all four corners of the ceiling. "What...?"

He lifted one hand vaguely in Mouse's direction and Mouse took it, wrapping it around his cock, covering it with his own and setting a hard, fast pace. With his other hand he shoved Brian's shirt up, bunching it under his armpits.

Brian watched Mouse stare at his bare chest and let his hand be used, trying to help, trying to match Mouse's frantic rhythm. He tightened his fist and pumped, and Mouse gasped. "Yeah," he murmured, and Mouse's balls drew up close to his body, tight and hard and wrinkled.

"Oh," Mouse said, jacking harder, faster, his back arched and his chest heaving. "Oh. Oh. Oh!" And he came spurting all over Brian's chest and belly, the wet heat so very familiar on Brian's skin. The motion of their hands slowed, grew erratic, and finally stopped, Mouse's hand clutching Brian's, snug and still around his softening cock.

Feeling weirdly tender, Brian brought his other hand up between them and softly cupped Mouse's balls, lifting and cradling them against his body. When Mouse opened his eyes and looked at him, Brian shrugged. "Feels good when somebody does it to me," he said.

Mouse's smile was a hundred kinds of joy and sweetness, and Brian felt a sudden stab of resentment for every gay man who'd ever seen that smile and failed to appreciate it for the treasure it was. And if it was chased with a hint of sadness that he didn't deserve that smile, either, he pushed it aside quickly enough. Wasn't like he hadn't had practice.

Mouse finally released Brian's hand and his own cock, and he fell back on the mattress, his legs tangled with Brian's. "Wow," he said, smiling at the ceiling.

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Jesus. Why isn't every gay man in this city beating down your door?"

"Damned if I know." Mouse grinned at him. "That really was dumb, wasn't it?"

Brian grinned back, but he could feel the ruefulness in it. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Mouse just chuckled.

Brian looked at the mess on his chest and belly, shrugged, and tugged his shirt off, using it to mop himself up. He gave Mouse's leg an affectionate shove, freeing his own, and started to wriggle his jeans up his thighs.

Mouse could move fast when he wanted to. Brian didn't even know how he'd ended up on his belly, his bare ass in the air, Mouse's strong hands spreading his cheeks. The delicate touch of Mouse's tongue on his asshole was a revelation, a wild, strange pleasure that shot up to his scalp and down to the soles of his feet, light, tickling, intolerably good. "Jesus!" he yelped, and Mouse let him go, bouncing to his feet.

By the time Brian had turned over again, Mouse had already tucked himself back into his pants and had himself zipped and tidy. There was a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Just wanted to give you something else to think about," he said, and he turned and left, snagging the roach out of the ashtray on his way out, leaving Brian half-undressed, his jaw hanging open, staring out into the San Francisco night.


~ fin ~