2015 was not shaping up to be a good year for Brian Williams.
Okay, so he had finagled a few details. The press was acting like no other journalist had ever fibbed to hook viewers before, berating his “lack of journalistic integrity” on every channel and paper like he was some kind of news reporting pariah.
They were just little white lies. Embellishments, he liked to call them. Was that really so bad?
While he was relieved that NBC decided to only suspend him instead of firing him outright, Brian found himself feeling hurt, bordering on betrayed. He knew deep down that he should’ve stuck to delivering cold facts and yet he found himself licking his wounds and making excuses for himself all the same, shutting himself up in his study and busying himself with writing and research.
A couple of weeks passed and the debacle had finally begun to die down. Brian was deep in a labyrinth of papers at his desk when his phone vibrated. Groggily, he looked at his phone and saw that he had received a text message… from Jon Stewart.
Oh. That got his attention.
Brian was initially sheepish about looking at the message. It had come to light that one of his little “embellishments” had happened on The Daily Show and half-expected a long text detailing what a shitty person he is. Finally swallowing his fears, he opened the message and was relieved to find that it was short and sweet:
“Hey. Sorry to hear about the suspension, buddy. Let’s grab a drink sometime?”
Knowing what “grabbing a drink” usually led to, Brian knew he should politely decline instead of taking the bait. The little devil on his shoulder encouraged him, though, and Brian convinced himself of yet another lie: that he somehow deserved the pleasure and relief Jon could give him.
He paused and looked over his shoulder to make sure his wife wasn’t around. When he realized how ridiculous this was, Brian turned back to his phone and texted: “Thursday night? How about 10?”
Jon replied almost immediately. “Sounds good. I’ll let you know the place.”
Jon chose some not-seedy-but-not-popular bar in SoHo for their meeting place. It was nice on the inside but very quiet and subdued. He walked over to the table Jon was sitting at and they greeted with a tight hug, just like old times. Brian breathed in Jon’s cologne and it was the same kind he had worn during their previous tryst--a light, flowery scent that complimented him well. Jon’s warmth melted the flecks of snow that had accumulated on his coat and it filled him with a strange fleeting happiness that Brian had only ever felt around Jon.
They hadn’t even begun talking and Brian already knew he was so screwed.
“So,” Jon began after he pulled away, his blue eyes meeting Brian’s, “a couple of out-of-work news anchors walk into a bar…”
Brian let out a tempered laugh. “Is it really ‘out-of-work’ if you’re retiring, Jon?”
Jon cringed at that. “I am not ‘retiring’. I hate that word. I feel old enough as it is.”
Brian smiled tragically and said, “At least you get a choice. I’m just paying the price for doing something very stupid.”
“And ballsy,” Jon added with a raised finger. “Stupid, yeah, but ballsy. I gotta admire a man who can lie in front of millions of people. It’s strangely endearing.” Before Brian could say anything Jon continued, “I don’t appreciate you lying on my show, though.”
Brian had hoped that Jon wouldn’t bring that up and dipped his head in guilt. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
Jon made a dismissive pfft noise and gestured to the two cold beers that were waiting for them. “What’s done is done. C’mon, you can wash away your sins with some booze. I’ll drown my post-Daily Show sorrows with you.”
The conversation had turned from formal to lazily nostalgic after a couple rounds of beers. They spent hours reminiscing about their careers. Brian rambled on about his efforts during Hurricane Katrina and Jon nodded at whatever Brian was saying with his chin propped up on his hand and wearing an undecipherable smile.
Brian was in the middle of detailing the stench of the bathrooms at the Superdome when he felt a foot nudge against his ankle. It crept upwards, brushing just past the hem of his pants, and Brian froze.
“Don’t,” he warned in a low voice.
Jon smiled cheekily as his foot traveled up Brian’s calf. “Don’t what?”
“You--” Brian gasped when Jon’s shoe nudged against a sensitive spot on his leg. “You know what you’re doing. We’re in public.”
“Yeah, well, that could change at any moment.”
Jon’s foot slid down his calf and stopped to sit atop Brian’s. “How can you be this cagey after a couple beers?”
Brian was momentarily relieved that Jon’s foot was no longer tickling the sensitive spots on his leg. He inhaled and said, “The danger of getting caught is killing my buzz.”
“Hmm.” Jon stared at Brian for a few long moments, running his finger along his own lower lip in thought. He eventually shrugged his shoulders. “Welp, looks like we’re gonna have to go somewhere more private.”
Brian felt the need to put up some kind of resistance. “Don’t you think we’re getting too old for this?”
“I’m not too old to give a great blowjob and nobody is too old to get one.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up so high that they nearly touched his hairline.
“Besides,” Jon continued as he leaned in close to Brian, their faces mere inches apart, “you owe me. Let’s have one last night of sin before we really are too old.”
Brian sat up and set his jaw. “You had this planned from the beginning, didn’t you?”
“Maaaaaybe. Seeing you on the news all the time was torturous to my libido. High compliment coming from me, by the way. And how could I miss the opportunity to guilt you into something?” Jon reached out and pulled Brian’s hands into his--a bold move in public, but an effective one judging by the easing of Brian’s stern expression. “C’mon. You need this and you know it. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have responded to my text in the first place.”
Brian feigned an internal struggle and decided that he really hated it when Jon was right.
“Fine. One last night of sin, but after this we are one hundred percent even about the whole ‘lying on your program’ thing.”
Jon flashed a victorious grin at him. “I love being the only person on the planet who knows how easy Brian Williams is.”
“Changing my mind in three... two..."
"I'm shutting up! I'm shutting up!"
He had Brian pinned against the wall of their motel room within seconds of closing the door.
Jon’s tongue pushed against Brian’s as they locked into a hungry kiss. Jon stripped Brian of his clothes while their mouths fought for dominance; first his heavy winter coat, then his shirt, and finally his belt, which Jon had pulled straight out of its loops in one swift motion. When they finally separated with a heated gasp, Jon sank to his knees--still fully clothed himself--and nuzzled Brian’s growing erection through the fabric of his pants.
“Oh God,” Brian breathed as he watched Jon rub his face all over his crotch like a perverted kitten.
Jon smiled up at him, his wide blue eyes glinting mischievously. He palmed the outline of Brian’s cock and gently urged it to full mast. There was a moment of silence between the two men before Jon said, “Lie to me, baby.”
“What?” Brian asked, sounding stupid and lust-drunk.
Jon undid the zipper to Brian’s pants and freed his swollen cock, using a dab of pre-come to lubricate his hand. Brian’s whole body jerked in response and he let out a deep, low groan.
“When I ask you a question, you’re going to lie to me. It’s what you do best, after all.” That earned him a sharp look from Brian and Jon continued, “For example… does this feel good?”
Brian was too invested in the slow drag of Jon’s hand to think about anything else. “Yes.”
Jon let go of Brian’s dick and he whined at the loss of contact. Brian looked down at Jon and found him peering up at him with a small smile and a single raised eyebrow, as if to silently say c’mon, you can figure this out.
“I mean--” The realization of what Jon was asking of him finally sunk in and he corrected, “No, no it--it doesn’t.”
Jon rewarded him with a sharp suck on the head of his cock and Brian tangled his fingers into Jon’s greying hair. It didn’t last long, however, as Jon pulled off of him and licked his wet lips.
“Are you sorry for what you did? For lying on air?”
Brian could barely concentrate on this stupid game and it took him a beat to think of a response that would placate Jon. “Yes?” he offered, sounding more like a guess than anything.
“So you’re not sorry,” Jon purred in approval before taking Brian into his mouth from tip to base, the tight heat drawing a heavy moan out of the other man. When he pulled off again with a sharp suck he added breathlessly, “Good. I wouldn’t be either, to be honest. Journalistic integrity is practically a myth now, anyway.”
Brian was bright red and sweating, his expressive eyebrows knitted together in exertion, fingers flexing in Jon’s scalp. “Jesus, please, Jon… just…”
“Fine, fine,” Jon conceded and returned to his task.
He bobbed his head back and forth with obscene sounds filling the silence, jerking off whatever part of Brian’s cock he couldn’t take in his mouth, and Brian felt like he was going to die right there in that dirty hotel room. At that moment the only things that existed in the world were him, Jon, and the hot, coiling feeling building inside him. All of his worries about his career melted away as the pleasure began to drive him towards the end, his mouth falling open into a strained moan, his hands curling into Jon’s hair, urging him on.
Brian half-expected Jon to stop and make some sort of snarky quip or ask him another question, but he didn’t. All it took were a few strong sucks from Jon to completely undo him. Brian gasped, tensed, and held Jon’s head still as he emptied into his mouth, until all that was left was calm, satisfied bliss, and the world slowly spun back into order.
While Brian’s mental capabilities slowly returned to him, Jon stood up and gave him a pursed-lipped smile, unable to speak because his mouth was full of...
He blinked at Jon through tousled sweat-damp hair and Jon gestured with his index finger from his mouth to Brian’s.
“No,” the taller man protested, briefly forgetting in the haze of post-orgasm that it was still Opposite Day in Jon and Brian Land, and Jon in reply pressed his mouth against Brian’s. He had nowhere to go but to submit, and when Brian opened his mouth he tasted the thick, salty musk of his own come. It filled him with shame, surprise, and a renewed spark of arousal that he definitely wasn’t expecting. A drop of it seeped past the contact point of their mouths and dripped down Brian’s chin when he separated from Jon and, after a moment of steeling himself, swallowed it all in one audible gulp.
“Nice,” Jon breathed, clearly impressed.
Brian didn’t look so pleased, although his disheveled state blunted the edge of his glare. “That wasn’t fair.”
“All’s fair in love and sucking dick, Brian.”
Jon licked up the final drop of seed and planted a saccharine little kiss on the dimple of Brian’s chin. The flimsy barrier Brian had just constructed crumbled in the wake of that affectionate gesture and he pulled Jon into a tight embrace. He felt Jon’s heart beat against his and he wished so badly to stay like this forever, leaving the scandals and the grind of everyday life behind.
He knew that was impossible. A fantasy. But it was a fantasy he was willing to drag out as long as possible.
Eventually, Brian tilted his head down and whispered hot into Jon’s ear, “Your turn, and my little game is that you have to tell me the truth.”
“Truth is, I want to go home and jerk off while crying in my bathroom."
“Shut up and get on the bed.”