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Title: Closing Shop
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotic Fiction
Disclaimer: Fuck it, I own Brendon Urie, his hips, ass, and lips. Not this skank in the story. Got that? He's mine.
Summary: lol, oh hormones.

We were the only ones left in the salon after closing.

Johanna, the shop owner, had to leave early for her kid’s dance recital or some other motherly thing she was always running off to take care of, and asked me to lock up. I was standing around bored, tidying up and checking my appointment book. He was running late with one of his billion and one clients. As always. I guess women still hadn’t gotten used to the novelty of a male hairdresser that claimed he wasn’t gay.

He was pretty cute, until he opened his mouth. I mean, not that he was dumb or arrogant or something. It’s just that sometimes he didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

I leaned against the counter I’d been cleaning, and watched the older female client gush into the handheld mirror he’d handed her.

“Oh Brendon, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much dear. You are a godsend!”

I rolled my eyes and went back to spraying the hell out of my mirror with Windex and wiping it down with paper towels.

“You’re very welcome Mrs. Goldtree. You are going to be the belle of the ball tonight.” He grinned flirtatiously, pulling the cape from around her shoulders and shaking it out. Mrs. Goldtree patted her hair, beamed at him in the mirror, and reached into her purse.

“For you, my gorgeous little savior.” She pulled out two twenties and shoved them into his hand. Brendon smiled gratefully and thanked her as she bustled out of the door just ahead of him. He was grinning after he locked it, turning around and catching my eye.

“Lovely woman that Mrs. Goldtree,” I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. “What, jealous?” Brendon smirked.

“Hardly.” I retorted, although I couldn’t remember that last time I’d gotten a 40 dollar tip. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten a 20 dollar tip.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I can’t help that little old ladies seem to have a soft spot for pretty little gay boys.” I scowled and went back to my work, glancing at him behind me in the mirror.

Brendon chuckled, obviously amused, and grabbed the broom and dustpan. He began to sweep the floor around his station, whistling some ridiculous tune that popped into his head. As I listened, I realized it was the theme to an old Super Mario Brother’s game. He whistled and swept in time to the rhythm, and began dancing with the broom across the floor. I smiled and shook my head, bawling up the paper towels and tossing them, passing him to go fetch a large bag so I could empty the trash bins. He grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Come on Tiff, dance with me.”

“What? No!” I blushed as he pulled my hand, dancing goofily and whistling the tune all over again. “Brendon!”

“Tiffany!” He whined mockingly, defiant as ever, taking both my hands and moving in circles, whistling and beginning to dance goofily. I couldn’t help but laugh, unable to understand how he could be so adorable.

“You are so gay, Urie. It’s safe to come out now. I promise the old ladies won’t love you any less.”

He smirked. “You think so? Really?”

“Yes.”

He pressed his forehead to mine pensively, dark chocolate colored eyes boring into my own. He pressed his thick lips over mine, enveloping them, one arm still around my waist. My first instinct was to kiss him back. Sue me, but it had been quite a long time. Act first, ask questions last. The kiss deepened when he learned he’d gained my cooperation, and he traced his tongue against my bottom lip. I parted my lips slightly, allowing him to snake his warm, wet tongue inside and massage mine. Our bodies were pressed close and I felt heat rush to the back of my neck and tips of my ears.

“Do I kiss like I’m gay?”

I shrugged. “A kiss means nothing except you could be a good actor.”

He gave me a look like, ‘Are you serious?’ and raised one bushy eyebrow. “I should continue to convince you then, I think.” He said, coming in close to kiss me again.

I groaned in mock defeat, allowing him to tongue me slowly and even cup my ass in his hands. The night was cool, and the wind whipped against the shop windows, and I’m pretty sure the heater hadn’t been on in at least forty minutes, but my body felt like it was on fire. Brendon took my hands in his, lacing his fingers through mine and raising them above our heads as he backed me against the closest wall. My cheat heaved and he pushed my legs apart with his knees. My body tingled as the fabric of my tights rubbed against his pants. We took deep breaths, looked at each other cautiously for another minute, and then were kissing again, a little harder and even more eager this time around. Brendon’s hands moved down lower to my waist with ease.

“Brendon,” I whispered into his ear, groaning as his hands caress and move down my thighs. I could feel them moving under my skirt, fingers pressed into my flesh and I wanted it, wanted him, gay, bi or straight inside me.

“Shit,” He groaned, easing up further, sighing heavily when he finally reached the top of my tights. He pulled slowly, kissing my lips, chin and neck as he did so. I stepped out of them when he got to my feet, mind obviously too clouded with lust to realize we were going to do this in the middle of the salon, glass windows, doors cold linoleum floors and all. Our lips connected after a considerably long pause, and I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his slender neck. Our tongues traced and rolled together until he pulled away again, kissing and sucking my neck gently. My shoulders were pressed against the wall while my lower half was pressed against him, it probably would have been very, very uncomfortable if I wasn’t so goddamn horny.

I moaned deeply when his fingers found my warmth, tracing and rubbing me over the fabric of my panties. He pushed them aside, parting my lower lips and sliding a finger inside me.

“Mm,” I moaned. I couldn’t help it. Everything he did to me warranted a lusty response. I heard him curse, sliding down to his knees, fingering me slowly and parting my legs further. I whispered his name when he lifted my left leg, throwing it over his shoulder and burying his head between my thighs underneath my skirt. Well, I wanted to watch him, so with one hand I bunched up the corduroy skirt around my waist and ran my fingers through his hair with the other.

With his lips pressed against my flesh, he began to hum, and the vibes made my knees buckle. He chuckled and finally began lapping at me, taking long licks and nuzzling the tip of his nose against my clit. I continued to moan, biting the fuck out of my lip and damn near crying out when those luscious, full lips of his replaced his nose, sucking me dutifully and distracting me from the addition of another finger.

I bucked against his face, and he held on for dear life, sucking and pushing his digits in and out of my aching hole. I was moaning out of control now, fucking his adorable little face as he slurped and lapped at me lasciviously. It didn’t take long for my body to tense and tremble, mere inches away from gaining it’s release. I moaned his name and arched my back, knocking my head against the wall. He flicked his tongue against my clit faster, slowing down his finger action. “Do I suck this pussy like I’m gay?” He mumbled, looking up at me with a sexy fucking smirk smeared across those sexy fucking lips.

“Shit, no baby, uhh Brendon, don’t fucking stop now please!“ I squealed.

Now using the tip of his tongue to make sweeping motions across my clit as I maneuvered my hands underneath my sweater and camisole, pulling my bra down under my breasts and cupping and rubbing them, pulling my nipples until they were stiff. I trembled again, moaning lewdly now, panting and pulling at Brendon’s hair as my orgasm hit. I closed my eyes so tight a single tear managed to find it’s way down my cheek. As I said, it had been a while.

A long while…

“Like that?” He growled huskily, meeting my lips with his again. I nodded as he kissed me and I tasted my own sticky sweetness on his tongue. Next thing I knew, he was sweeping me up, shoving the Barbicide jar and the array of combs and other bottles out of the way and sitting me on his work station bare-assed. He’d pulled his cock free through his zipper and was stroking himself as we kissed slow and deliberate.

I moved my hand down to assist him, finding his dick rock hard and twitching. He grunted and moved my hand away, shoving into me roughly. I gasped and he guided my arms around his neck again. I held him close and licked around his ear, sucking his lobe. Brendon moaned into my ear, thrusting his hips firmly, sinking deep inside me. He reached underneath and cupped my ass, holding me up against him while our bodies rocked against each other urgently.

Another chorus of moans and pants filled the room, as my head bounced off of the mirror. I tightened and clenched down, thrusting back at him, working to reach my peak for a second time and making him groan my name. He sped up, fucking me intentionally hard, working those magic hips and squeezing my ass, digging the tips of his fingers into my cheeks, spreading them ever so often, sweating bullets and losing his will, fast.

Brendon threw his head back and moaned, one hand around my neck, nipping at my lips and biting down on the lower one. Our foreheads pressed against each other and he slipped a finger into my mouth, moaning out loud again as I licked the finger’s tip and then sucked it in. I stared into his eyes coyly when he pulled it out.

“Ooh, oh, fuck!” He cried, holding me tighter and fucking me hard. The Barbicide jar rocked on the edge of the counter and fell, shattering as it hit the floor.

“Fuck!” Brendon cried again, lifting my ass and slinking to the floor. He swiftly turned our bodies into a 69 position, immediately diving face first back in between my thighs. I wasted about the same amount of time before sliding my tongue down his slick cock, licking up my own juices. He shuddered when I finally let my mouth slide down his shaft, sucking him greedily and moaning with my mouth full. Our hips bucked against one another, both of us anticipating our imminent orgasms and I whined pathetically when mine hit, convulsing against his tongue. I guess all the vibration from my throat set him off because as soon as the feeling began to ebb away, he erupted into my mouth without warning, crying my name. I sucked down everything he offered, swallowing automatically.

When we separated we were all smiles, then took the time to assess the damage we’d caused. Combs and brushes were scattered around, and the germicide liquid from the Barbicide jar made a small puddle with shards of broken glass in and around it. I began to giggle, and he joined in. Another moment of silence and staring made him reach out, and caress my cheek with another large smile, asking me for a ride home before we redressed and cleaned up our mess.

I waited by the door when we were done and he set the alarm, placing his hand in mine as I locked the front entrance and we headed to my car.

“So… Still think I’m gay?” He grinned.

“I don’t know,” I replied smirking deviously. “But you can always come home with me and ask me again in the morning.”
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