
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1965474.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Justin_Bieber_(Musician)
  Relationship:
      Justin_Bieber/Scooter_Braun
  Character:
      Justin_Bieber, Scooter_Braun
  Additional Tags:
      Drabble, Masturbation, Blow_Jobs, Obsessive-Compulsive_Disorder, Underage
      Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-16 Words: 1297
****** A Break In Routine ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Something is bothering Justin. Scooter finds a way to make everything
     okay again.
===============================================================================
Justin’s little quirks and habits become more serious when he’s stressed. After
watching the teen run himself into the ground with the time and effort he puts
into his daily ablutions during the two months they spend recording Under The
Mistletoe, Scooter becomes convinced that it’s actually a bigger deal than he
originally thought it to be. He’s determined to fix things as soon as possible
and after Justin’s Chelsea Lately appearance Scooter finally decides to pull
Justin into his hotel room for a little talk before they settle in for the
night. He’s not expecting Justin to get so emotional about it.
“It’s embarrassing,” Justin says with an ashamed lilt to his voice. “I don’t
wanna talk about it.”
They’re sitting on the bed, Justin on the left and Scooter on the right with
their backs against the headboard. Scooter’s feet go all the way to the foot of
the bed. Justin’s feet barely reach the edge. “You gotta tell me what’s going
on, man,” Scooter says. “It’s affecting your singing and that’s really
serious.”
Justin hangs his head and mumbles something.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Scooter sighs.
“Fine,” Justin huffs. “I have OCD, dude.”
“Well, uh, I wasn’t expecting that.” the older man replies. “Why didn’t you
just tell me?”
“Because I don’t like when people know,” Justin grates. “It’s bad enough I have
a million stupid little things I have to do every day just to feel like I can
breathe. I don’t need people looking at me different too. I mean, it affects
everything I do. How I shower, when I eat, where I walk. I always have to have
band aids to tape up my fingers. I can’t walk into a room without tapping my
left foot three times in a row. If I don’t go through my routines I start
twitching like I have Tourettes. It sucks.”
“I never knew it was so hard for you,” Scooter says, reaching out to put a hand
on Justin’s shoulder. He squeezes, stroking at the exposed part of the teen’s
collar bone and Justin pushes his hand away with a gasp.
“You can’t do that.” Justin whispers, suddenly breathless. He fidgets around as
if he can’t get comfortable.
“Why not?” Scooter asks.
“It’s one of my things,” Justin answers. “When somebody or something touches me
there I get… weird.”
“What do you mean weird?”
“I have to do… stuff. Sex stuff.” Justin’s blushing now, a flush high on his
cheekbones that makes Scooter blush as well. It feels as if all the air in the
room as been converted to a stifling thick paste, getting caught in their
throats.
“You mean you have to masturbate?” Scooter asks.
“Yeah,” Justin whines in the back of his throat, reaching down to rub himself
through his shorts. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes between gasps. “I gotta… shit… I
need to-”
“It’s okay,” Scooter says, feeling his throat go dry. “Just act like I’m not
here.”
Justin moans, unbuckling his belt with one hand as he hitches his shorts down
with the other. He tucks the elastic waistband of his gray boxer briefs under
the plump swell of his sac and brings a hand up to his mouth, spitting into his
palm before wrapping his slick fingers around the girth of his cock which is
curving up in a hard column from a thatch of neatly trimmed pubic hair. Justin
is uncut and Scooter watches as the teen uses his other hand to draw back his
foreskin and press his fingernail into the slit. Justin shudders, hips humping
up into his own grip. Scooter can’t help himself. He palms his cock through the
fabric of his jeans. Justin looks over at him with hooded eyes and jacks
himself harder, twisting on the upstroke.
“I do it like this every time,” Justin groans. “I fuck my hand as hard as i can
but I can’t even enjoy it because I’m too busy counting my strokes or trying to
find the exact same rhythm as the time before. Even when I’m about to come I
can’t really relax.”
And suddenly Scooter gets it; how much this thing rules Justin’s life. Scooter
wants nothing more than to do something about it, he wants to take Justin’s
mind away from the routine and the repetition so the teen can really enjoy
himself. Before he can think it through he’s kneeling on the floor, pulling
Justin to the edge of the bed and sliding the teen’s pants and underwear the
rest of the way off.
“I’m gonna help you,” Scooter says as he maneuvers Justin legs until his feet
are flat against the bedspread and his knees are as far apart as they’ll go. “I
gonna make you let everything go.”
“Okay,” Justin nods.
Scooter takes a deep breath, says, “Get up on your elbows and watch me.”
Justin obeys. When Scooter sees that Justin is positioned the way he wants him
he leans forward and ghosts a breath over the base of Justin’s dick, tongue
snaking out to lick from root to tip. Justin cock twitches and lets out a blurt
of wet as the teen throws his head back and moans long and low. Scooter snakes
a hand down to free his own cock from the confines of his jeans before taking
Justin into his mouth. He jacks himself slow as he suckles at the head, mindful
of his teeth when he pushes back Justin’s foreskin with his lips. Scooter wraps
his free hand around the rest of Justin’s length and strokes him with an
erratic, varied rhythm. Above him Justin begins to count out loud, stopping and
starting every time Scooter changes the rhythm. It sounds ridiculous and only
furthers Scooter’s fervor to get Justin out of his own mind for a while.
Scooter tongues the slit with sure, steady strokes then takes Justin as deep as
he can. Justin’s hips surge off the bed and Scooter gags a little before
adjusting to it.
Justin tries to take control by grabbing handfuls of Scooter’s hair and fucking
up into his mouth as he counts out, “One, two three, four, five…” but Scooter
quickly regains the upper hand by laying his arm over Justin’s hips and pinning
the teen to the mattress. He pulls off Justin’s cock and makes a disapproving
sound deep in his chest. “No, Justin,” Scooter rasps, throat raw from where he
swallowed around Justin’s length. “No counting. We do this my way.”
“Okay, okay,” Justin pants, hands fisted in the bedspread. “Just suck me, oh
God- please suck me. Suck my cock. I need it!”
Scooter obliges the teen, fucking down into his own hand as he swallows around
Justin once, twice, three times and then pulls off, allowing his teeth to
gently scrape Justin’s length as he pulls back. Scooter turns his head sideways
and sucks at Justin’s slit as hard as he can, hollowing out his cheeks with the
effort until Justin is arching up off the bed, exploding into Scooter’s mouth
with a shout. Scooter swallows mouthful after mouthful of Justin’s bittersweet
come, milking it all out of him until Justin’s sobbing and pushing Scooter away
because the sensation has become unbearable. Scooter lets Justin’s cock slide
from between his swollen lips and watches as Justin slumps to his side. The
teen draws his knees up to his chest, arms clutching around them as he rocks
back and forth; sobs echoing through the room as his voice turns slightly
hysterical, saying, “So good. So good. So good.”
Scooter closes his eyes and listens to Justin’s litany as he jacks his dick. It
only takes a few strokes, five maybe, and then Scooter is coming, white streaks
of jizz painting the carpet.
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