#beardy!bri

“I could go for a drink,” Brian said with a long exhale. You looked over at him, frowning from the passenger seat. “Really? You don’t want to…” You trailed off, disappointed that Brian wasn’t taking you straight home. “Oh, I want to,” Brian chuckled, “but I’d like to take the edge off, first. If you don’t mind, love.” “I…okay,” you relented, swallowing your annoyance. “There’s a decent pub just five minutes from here.” “Lovely,” Brian replied dryly, and put the car in drive.

Mulligan’s was in full swing by the time you and Brian pulled up a few minutes later. You got out of the car, growing more irritable by the minute. Why couldn’t Brian just take you home and fuck you already?

But Brian was easy, putting an arm around you and smiling pleasantly at the bouncer. The two of you found a small table off to the side of the pool tables, adjacent to the bar. “Have a seat, love. I’ll get us some drinks, yeah?” “Sounds good.” You threw your coat over the back of the chair and sat down with a sigh. You watched as Brian’s head bobbed through the crowd towards the bar. The music was playing at a decent volume, but not loud enough to drown out the thoughts in your head. You squirmed in your seat, thinking of Brian’s hand under your skirt. “Fancy running into you here.” The voice made you uncomfortable before you even consciously registered who it belonged to. But you’d know Dan’s familiar drawl anywhere. The sound of it made your stomach churn. Running into him alone would be one thing. But with Brian here? After what had just happened at your parents’ house? Fuck. “How can I help you, Dan?” You sighed, turning your face to him slightly. There was a drink in his hand, which you guessed wasn’t going to make him any less obnoxious (or any more modest). You guessed correctly. “Get rid of your boyfriend,” was his not-so-subtle answer. You rolled your eyes, huffing out another sigh. “I won’t be doing that. Sorry.” Your voice was hard, but that did little to deter him. “Come on, baby. He’s so stuffy. Why don’t you come have some fun?” Dan had a hand on the back of your chair, cornering you against the wall. You sucked in a breath, looking behind him nervously. How long does it take to make two whiskeys, neat? “Brian is anything but stuffy,” you snapped, balling up a fist beneath the table. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Dan replied, and downed the rest of his drink. “Fuck off, Dan. For the love of God.” “You know, I meant what I said about your face belonging on the cover of magazines. God, why did I ever let you leave?” Dan reached up to touch your face, but you smacked his hand, hard. He held his hands up in defense, conceding defeat. For now. “Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, bring that pretty little face over to me.” Dan smirked, turning on his heels. You watched in disgust as he walked off to join a group of equally douchey-looking guys at a table across the bar. You didn’t realize how quickly your heart was pounding until Brian slid into the seat across from you. He set down the two whiskeys and gave you an easy smile—one that faded quickly. “What’s wrong, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You toyed with the idea of not telling him. It would only escalate the situation. But you remembered your one and only policy with Brian: honesty. You took a deep breath and jerked your chin in Dan’s direction. “Guess who’s here?” The look of confusion on Brian’s face was quickly replaced with one of recognition as his gaze landed on his blond predecessor. Then, the dark and dangerous glint returned to Brian’s eyes. It thrilled you a little, but it was mostly just terrifying. “Did he say something to you?” Brian’s voice was flat, and sounded more like a statement than a question. “It’s nothing, Brian. He’s drunk and being a dick. Nothing I haven’t seen him do before,” you responded, rolling your eyes in disdain. But Brian wasn’t soothed in the slightest. “If he comes back over here—” “We’ll just leave. Brian? Brian, hey,” you urged, snapping your fingers in front of Brian’s face to get his attention. He looked at you and his glare softened a bit. “I don’t want a scene here. Everyone in this town knows each other, and it’ll get back to my parents.” Brian sighed, but nodded, and that was all you needed to feel a tiny bit better. You might have been able to salvage the evening. But Dan, of course, had other plans. … You and Brian sat talking, sipping your drinks. Even slipping each other a few dirty looks since it was clear neither of you had forgotten what happened earlier in the day. You were about to suggest that you and Brian go home to be alone when Dan interrupted you. You couldn’t see him walking up behind you, but you didn’t have to. The mood change on Brian’s face was enough to tell you he was approaching. Your stomach did a somersault as you turned to face Dan. Once again, he leaned heavily on your chair, cornering you. It made you angry and nervous at the same time. Brian saw this and moved his foot under the table, hooking an ankle around your calf. It was a small gesture, but it reassured you. “Still with the poodle-boy, huh?” Dan was slurring a little. He’d clearly downed more beer since you last saw him. “Can you not do this, Dan? We’re grown adults,” you chastised him, leaning as far away from him as you could. “Yeah, grown adults who should go upstairs and remember why we were together in the first place,” he argued. You scoffed, unable to come up with the right words to properly rebuff him. Brian looked about ready to beat the other man to a pulp. “Remember the good old days? After school, before your parents got home from work?” “Dan, I swear to God—” you began, but Dan reached out a pushed a finger against your lips, shushing you. Before you could react, or even process the audacity of his action, Brian was standing. He shoved Dan’s hand away from your face, teeth bared. “Do not touch her,” Brian growled. Dan looked a little intimidated, and rightfully so. Brian towered over him, angry and threatening. He stepped away from you, leaving you space to get up, which you did quickly. “Do you understand me?” Brian’s voice was low, almost guttural. He wasn’t making a scene, as per your request, but it was scary enough to make Dan take several more steps back. You put your hand on the crook of Brian’s elbow, pulling him back toward you. “Bri, let’s get out of here.” “Yes,” Brian agreed, still glaring at Dan, who was thirty feet away by then. “Out of here.” And Brian was pulling you by the hand through the packed bar. After a couple seconds of ducking through the crowd, you noticed you were headed in the wrong direction. “Brian, the exit’s that way,” you panted, struggling to keep up with Brian’s long strides. “I know that,” was Brian’s response through gritted teeth. But he didn’t change direction, and you only came to a stop once he had pulled you into the men’s bathroom. You heard the lock click behind you, and you whirled around to face Brian. “What the hell are you—” Brian cut you off, kissing you hard on the mouth, stubble scraping your chin. Your body instantly remembered his touch, and everything that happened under the dining table. You moaned softly into his mouth as his arms wrapped around your waist. But, as he gripped the back of your skirt, you remembered where you were. “Brian,” you mumbled against his mouth. “We can’t do this here.” “If you don’t want to…” Brian trailed off, pressing kisses down your neck, to your collarbone. You ran your hands through his hair, fiddling with the curls at the nape of his neck. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. So, you pulled him back to you, parting his lips with no hesitation. Brian lifted you off your feet a little, just enough to quickly scoot you backwards into the counter. Your feet hit the ground, but only for a second. Brian readjusted his grip on you, and lifted you up onto the fake marble. It was cold on the back of your legs, and you shivered a little. Brian wasn’t shy about running his hands up the tops of your thighs, well past the hem of your skirt. The movement drove you crazy, and you gripped his shoulders tightly. He took the flexing of your hands for what it was—an encouragement, and rubbed at the front of your underwear. “Brian,” you breathed. “Yes?” But you couldn’t find the words to respond, as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric to find your entrance once again. You were already keening for him, with one hand on his wrist. “You belong to me,” Brian told you, pushing a finger into you. Your breath hitched in your throat as the cold metal of his ring moved in and out of you on his finger. “Say it,” he commanded you softly. “Tell them who’s doing this to you.” “You, Brian,” you gasped, hooking your legs around his waist. “Tell me, love. Loud and clear.” “I belong—oh, god—I belong to you, Bri,” you panted, unable to think straight as you neared the event horizon. Brian added another finger, rubbing his palm up and down against your clit. “Just my name, love. Say my name.” You moaned his name, once for every thrust of his fingers into you, until you were nearly in tears from sheer pleasure. After you had bucked your hips into his hand, clawing at his arms, Brian pulled his hand from under your skirt. It was wet, and he took his time in licking each finger. You just stared at him, panting and wanting more. “What do you want now?” Brian asked you, even as someone knocked on the bathroom door. You couldn’t have cared less. You widened your legs for Brian and pulled up your skirt so he could pull your underwear off. You grappled with his belt and zipper to shove his jeans down. Slipped a hand between your legs to guide him to your entrance, aching for him. When Brian finally buried himself inside you, your hips jerked instinctively at the feeling. It was a feeling you had been craving all day, ever since Brian put his hand between your legs under the table. Once you had taken Brian to the hilt, you squeezed lightly around him. This made him shudder, and he bit your shoulder in a wonderful retribution. “He will never touch you again,” Brian groaned into your skin as he slowly backed out of you. Then— “Because he could never touch you like I do.” And Brian thrust into you, hard, making your legs go weak. Your eyes rolled back as he fucked you there, on the bathroom counter, as someone grew increasingly impatient outside. The knocks on the door were becoming more frequent. After a few minutes of mind-blowing sex, a voice interrupted you and Brian. “Oi! Hurry up, mate!” You froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. Brian recognized the voice, too. “Is that--?” He whispered. You nodded, stifling a laugh. “Other people have to piss, too, you know!” Dan shouted again from the other side of the door. “Oh, that’s definitely Dan,” you giggled into Brian’s shoulder. But Brian wasn’t having any laughs. He turned his face to glance at the door, then back at you. And started moving into you again. You could only hold his gaze as Brian continued to thrust, bracing himself with one hand on your ass and the other on the counter. “What are you doing?” You asked, breathless. But you pulled at Brian, with no intention of stopping. “Fucking my girlfriend,” Brian answered calmly, “while her ex-boyfriend waits outside.” That was enough to drive you crazy. You dug your nails into Brian’s back as he brought you to the completion you so desperately needed. Your ankles crossed behind his back, locking you onto him even as his thrusts became sloppier. You came, for the second time that night, crying out Brian’s name into the empty bathroom. There was no doubt in your mind that anyone standing outside would be able to hear your moans echoing off the tiles. Brian came inside you, pressing his face to the side of your neck. His beard was scratchy against your skin, but you didn’t care. You just held him until your breathing returned to normal. Brian reached over and picked up your underwear off the counter. You reached out for them, but he stuffed them into his pocket instead. You shook your head as he grinned mischievously. Once you both looked presentable once again, Brian opened the bathroom door to find a horrified Dan outside. “Sorry, mate, did you need in here?” Brian didn’t wait around for a response as you put your arm around his waist and grinned at Dan. He just threw an arm over your shoulders and smirked as the two of you left the bar, sweaty and beyond satisfied.

Later that night, you were sitting across from Dan. Everything was quiet as you and your family ate. Brian was sitting next to you, with a neutral expression. You ate your food in silence, actively avoiding Dan’s gaze. He wasn’t shy about staring at you. In fact, he did it quite openly. This wasn’t lost on Brian, but he fought to maintain a pleasant look. “So, Dan, what brings you back to town?” Your father asked, genuinely curious. Your mother looked relieved that someone was attempting friendly conversation. “Oh, just visiting my parents for the holiday,” Dan replied easily, running a hand through his blond hair. You looked at him, taking in the sight of him again. He really was the antithesis of Brian—just barely taller than you, blond hair, dark eyes. When you were dating, you had thought he was pretty fit. But after being with Brian, you looked at him now with a note of disgust. You looked back on how you thought he had ‘pleased’ you. And it paled in comparison to what Brian did to you. And Brian knew that. Right? “Yes, I ran into Dan at the grocery store,” your mom added enthusiastically. She had no idea what kind of storm was brewing in her dining room. Dan smiled at you, a little too friendly. The faintest flicker of a glare moved across Brian’s face. But you kept your gaze fixed on your roast pork. “Yeah, I’m glad I did, too,” Dan responded. “It’s so good to see you again, Y/N,” he added, leaning forward. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you swallowed hard. Brian wasn’t gonna like that. And neither did you, for that matter. You gave him a cold smile, and didn’t answer. “So what have you been up to? Still doing photography?” Dan asked you, leaning forward. Brian’s face was tense, but you patted his knee under the table. It was a small gesture, but one that reassured him. He relaxed slightly, leaning back into his chair. “Um, yeah. I do photography professionally now. But I also do some writing on the side.” “I always thought you should’ve pursued a career in modeling,” Dan suggested. You heard your father’s spoon hit his plate with a clink. Dan’s statement was too bold, and everyone at the table knew it. You could tell Brian was bristling without even having to look at him. “Well, I much prefer to be behind the camera,” you insisted politely. Dan shook his head, grinning. “That’s a shame. Your face deserves to be on the cover of magazines.” Your jaw dropped. Brian inhaled sharply, a muscle twitching in his jaw. You could tell your mother was regretting her decision to invite Dan, and it showed on her face. She struggled to continue the conversation. “So, Dan, how are your parents?” As Dan answered her, you glanced over at Brian. He was staring straight ahead—and he was pissed. His hands were wrapped tightly around his fork and knife, knuckles straining white from tension. You watched those hands as he released his knife, and pulled his hand beneath the table. You had begun to focus your attention on the conversation at hand, listening to the careful and polite words exchanged between your ex and your parents. You had almost managed to forget what had just happened, quietly munching on the home-cooked meal, when Brian quite literally took you by the front of your skirt. You almost choked on your food as Brian’s fingers bunched your skirt up at the apex of your thighs. You looked over at him, almost glaring, but his face was completely placid. The calmness of his expression was betrayed by what his hands were doing under the tablecloth. You cut your pork roast into pieces, trying not to go red in the face. Brian’s had gotten his hand under your skirt in no time, and started to rub at your underwear. You were always wet for him, and today was no different. His fingers moved deftly, pushing aside the thin layer of fabric to get to you. “So, honey, are you still thinking about moving into a bigger apartment?” Your mom looked at you cheerily over her mashed potatoes. You nodded, struggling to maintain a straight face. “Yes, I’ve actually found a nice flat a little closer to work,” you answered. Brian’s fingers were rubbing at you slowly, but with a firm pressure that almost made you buck your hips. Your eyelids flickered as your mom responded, unaware of what was happening under the table. “Oh, how wonderful!” Your parents then struck a conversation with Dan, who was more than happy to oblige. You turned your face ever so slightly to glare at Brian, but he was persistent in his work, massaging your clit in circles. You felt yourself growing even wetter at his touch, staring unintentionally at the stubble on his face. Imagining what that stubble would feel like between your legs. Brian continued eating with his left hand, as his right hand did things to you that made your head spin. You picked up your fork with one hand and kept eating. You had to maintain the façade of innocence. Brian expected you to pull away from his touch. But, to his surprise and satisfaction, you just sat there and took it. And, just as you reached up to keep eating, he felt your free hand rest on top of his between your legs. And you guided his hand in its motions, fingers on top of his. Brian looked at you for the first time after beginning his handsy endeavor, shocked by your returned boldness. But you had decided two could play the game he had started. So you kept eating with a straight face, rubbing yourself with his hand. His fingers curled into you, dragging along the folds of your sensitive skin with deliberation and care. “Y/N, I was actually telling your mom earlier how much fun we had in high school,” Dan spoke across the table. His tone was sickly sweet, and it was enough to send Brian over the edge. He slid a finger into you, pressing his palm to the front of you as he did so. You bit the end of your fork to keep from moaning, but you could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. You pressed yourself into his hand, rolling your hips forward. “Really? I much preferred college,” you retorted. Brian smirked, and quickened his pace a little. College was where you had met him, right after you broke things off with Dan. There was a smug glint in Brian’s eyes as you started to tighten around his finger. He slid in another digit, the one with his ring on it. The cold metal pressed to the inside of you was almost enough to ruin you right there at the table. But you focused on breathing and finishing your meal. You were close to orgasm by the time you cleared your plate. The white hot pressure had built to a breaking point between your hips, and your hands twitched as you patted the corners of your mouth with a napkin. Brian pulled his hand from you as you stood up and your skirt fell back to your knees. You politely showed Dan to the door as your parents cleared off the table. Brian offered to do the dishes, but your mom shooed him away from the sink. So he returned to you just as you pushed the door shut behind Dan. You raised your eyebrows at him, questioning him wordlessly. What was that? He looked at you hungrily, and you could tell he was ready to finish what he started. His mouth was on yours in a split second, capturing you for himself. You responded in kind, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer to you. Brian was absolutely ravenous, but you were so worked up from his fingers that you didn’t mind. Dan must really have rubbed him the wrong way; Brian wasn’t the jealous type. But as his stubble scratched your chin, you found yourself wanting possess him, and be possessed by him. His tongue worked against yours, making your head spin. You only pulled away from him when your mom called you into the kitchen for dessert. Brian followed you in, swearing to himself that he’d have your clothes on the floor the moment he got you alone again. And he most certainly did.