Cut to Michael, driving Brian's jeep, while Brian, sky-freakin-high, fondles Justin in the back seat. "Tick. Tick. Tick," Brian's mumbling. "The first words my son said to me. Smart little fucker. He can tell time already." Michael asks Brian what he's on. He's on Ecstasy, Michael! Brian starts to go down on Justin. Michael swerves the car in order to distract him: "Sorry, didn't want to hit that doggie." Snicker. Mike asks Justin where he lives, Justin says he's going home with Brian. Mike's like, nope, not on my watch. Brian gives Justin a multiple-choice quiz whose only answers are, "You're going home with me." Michael wimps out. Nice. You are now an accessory to statutory rape. You. Big. F'in. Idiot.
I'm glad that I warned my mother, because she was really happy for me when I got this gig, and now I've got to sit here and describe Justin lying face down on Brian's bed while Brian starts at the nape of his neck and runs his tongue all the way down to the top of Justin's perfectly shaped ass, and I told my mother that this type of thing was going to happen, I was sure to use the term "sexually explicit" several times, so I hope she's nowhere near this recap, because I don't want to hear it. And just in case you're wondering, she doesn't think it's smutty because it's gay sex. It's smutty because it's sex. My mother is an equal-opportunity prude, just like her daughter, so back off. Brian pauses, and the camera pans up to Justin's face. Suddenly, Justin starts to gasp in pleasure and pain. "Now you know what rimming is," Brian says. Both an entertaining and educational host. Can't beat that. Wait, I meant -- oh, never mind.
Meanwhile, back at Michael and Emmett's, Michael is complaining about Brian to to his roommate, who is curled up on the couch with a coffee cup, amused. Emmett's wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a "Queens College" t-shirt. That's pretty damn funny, actually. And to top it off, Michael says, he's really horny. Emmett hands him a new gay porn video called Schindler's Fist. I can't even enumerate the many ways in which that is sooo WRONG, but I had to pause the tape twice, anyway, 'cause I was laughing so hard. Michael, somewhat mollified, plays it. "Drop trou and bend over!" orders one masculine voice. "For my physical?" says another, more effeminate . "No, for target practice!" booms the first voice. Michael rolls his eyes. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!
In Brian's bed, he and Justin are, um, in a missionary-style position, with Brian on top. I asked my GayRef if there was a particular term for that, and he said, "Yeah, it's called 'getting fucked.'" All righty, then. Justin asks about condoms. Brian makes Justin put one on him. And, uh, there's lube, which is cold. I'm told that's realistic, but using KY Jelly is not. Brian, um, enters Justin, and Justin says it hurts, and asks if it always hurts. Brian says not as much, but that the pain is a part of it. Okey doke, before I instinctively run away and hide, let's take this to the bridge. Brian tells Justin, "I want you to remember this. So, whoever you're with, I'll be there." Not that that's twisted or anything. I'm just saying. Intense sexual scene continues, set to mellow techno music. Justin is enthralled. Line to the slaughterhouse starts to the right. No waiting.