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5 - Shiver
Brian and Justin’s POV
4:02 am
Justin
He’s hovering over me with this look. It’s just a look, but it’s about to
kill me. It says he still wants me as much as he always has, that he’s trying
to make this a really good birthday for me. It just fills me up until I overflow
and I’m not sure what to do with myself. So, I just look back.
I’m lost under his gaze until his hand starts pumping my dick.
“Brian,” I gasp. My cock is starting to ache. It needs some down time. Literally.
“Oh, come on,” he bites his bottom lip and gives me another heart-stopping
look. It’s so playful and sexy I could eat him alive. How does he know exactly
what to do and when to do it? Blows my fucking mind.
“That’s the problem. I can’t come anymore.” He just laughs.
He puts his face into the crook of my neck and breathes in. He’s covering
me, his weight resting heavily on my body. I love the way it feels. I could
lay in this bed forever with Brian sprawled on top of me. Well, he’d have
to fuck and feed me, but other than that…
He rubs his partially-erect dick against my thigh. It makes me laugh for some
reason. Then he moves off me and turns me onto my side. There’s something
about the soft, sure way he handles me that makes me so fucking weak. I easily
comply as he repositions my body on the bed and moves behind me, connecting
every inch of our skin. He slides his arms around my waist and pulls me to
him, making us one seamless unit. I feel his dick slide into the crack of
my ass and my head rolls back onto his shoulder. I feel a little dizzy and
a little drunk. It’s a nice buzz.
His fingers wrap around my dick again, but now he just barely moves them over
the sensitive skin. I feel the warmth from the palm of his hand, but little
else. His lips meet my neck and I close my eyes. I just let myself drift into
the heat we generate together. It’s relaxing and maddening, safe and dangerous,
absolutely perfect…
Brian
I have my face buried in the soft, moist hairs at the base of his neck and
my arms wrapped around his waist. I stroke him so slowly I can barely feel
my hand moving, but I hear his breathing and I know I’m getting him there
for the fourth…fifth…eighth time tonight (seems I’ve lost count). My own cock
rocks back and forth at a snail’s pace between his ass cheeks. We both sigh
and breathe deep and say nothing.
My eyes slowly slide shut as I concentrate on the low-level burn at the base
of my dick and in the pit of my stomach. I think about how after all of this
exertion we can still get each other there, and still make it really good.
My mind wanders over every inch of our connection. I focus on each section
of skin that joins us, as if they were all separate entities. My chest presses
against his back, nipples brushing his shoulder blades. My stomach curves
into the hollow of his spine. My dick slides into the groove of his ass and
my balls nestle into the space at the top of his thighs where his legs meet
his groin. My knees bend right into the backs of his and my feet cradle his.
When my lips graze his skin, he inhales sharply. I leave them pressed softly
against the top of his spine, where the bones stick out a bit just below his
nape. I continue to stroke him very slowly, at a pace that would madden the
most patient man. But tonight Justin’s learning that patience gets you everywhere
in life, certainly everywhere in sex. Not to mention the sheer exhaustion
is making him complaisant.
Sometimes I lie awake at night and pray after he falls asleep. Well, I don’t
pray really, I don’t believe in God, so I guess hope is a better word. Hope
is a fucking pointless emotion, but I still find myself hoping for certain
things. I often hope that we'll always be like this. Always intense and good
and surprising and satisfying. Being with him has always been just a little
too much, and I want it to stay that way.
Justin
If my dick weren't throbbing in his hand I’d just fall asleep. I need the
rest more than I need my next breath, but I can’t pass out with a hard-on.
Brian’s body cradles mine. I’m touching him everywhere. It’s a wonderful feeling.
Our breathing is slow, steady and rhythmic. I listen carefully as he inhales
and exhales; after a while, I don't have to think about synching my breathing
to his - I just do it instinctively.
Every slow stroke over my skin is matched by a slow thrust from behind. The
lazy, quiet way he’s building us up is making me quiver. I let my head fall
forward a bit, his follows. His lips never leave my neck. I think about that
for a long moment – Brian loves to fall asleep with his mouth on me. My chest
or shoulder or neck, whatever part of me is nearest to him, he rests his face
there and lets his lips touch me. It used to make it hard for me to fall asleep
because it turned me on and made my mind race with wild possibility. I got
over that quickly, post-sex exhaustion always winning out. But I still notice
that he does it and I still love it. It’s just a little thing, I'm sure he
doesn't even realize he's doing it.
“Brian,” I whisper softly.
“Hmmm,” I shiver as his barely-audible mumble makes his lips vibrate against
my skin.
Instead
of answering him with words, I lean back and shift my hips. His dick slides
deeper into the crack of my ass and I pump against it a few times to get the
point across. I can feel his warm, wet skin graze my hole and it makes me
gasp a little. Yep, I want him right in there.
He stills my hip with his hand, letting my dick swing free for a moment.
“Slow,” he says quietly.
“Fast,” I whisper back, trying to move even though he’s restraining me.
“Slow,” he says again. Subtly, the touch of his hand changes from one of restriction
to one of persuasion. I don’t move again.
We go back to the slow build and I breathe deep, signaling my surrender.
Brian
He’s cute when he’s frustrated. He tolerated my lazy pace for a long time
before deciding he’d had enough, but I was able to calm him down. We need
a break, but this is as close as we’re getting to one. I’ll hump his ass and
pump his dick in my own goddamned time. We’ve never been really, really slow
together. Hell, I’ve never taken it this slow with anyone. I’ve never had
any reason to.
I put my lips back to his neck and my hand back around his cock. My eyes drift
closed again and I focus on the smell of sex in the room. That heady aroma
that we produce together should be bottled up and shared with all the poor
fucks in the world who don’t get to experience bliss like this. It’s so intense
when you breathe deep; your head swims from the combined scents of come and
sweat and spit and heated skin.
God, I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Never thought I’d ever feel that
way, but I do now. I feel good when he’s here and not so good when he’s not.
Pretty easy to deduce that I should therefore keep him around. Good thing
he’s decided it’s where he wants to be – with me, I'm not sure what I'd' have
done otherwise. He really is the best thing for me. Took a while to work that
all out – but we did.
The thing with Justin is, he’s my one sure thing. It’s no secret that my life’s
been pretty unstable and often shitty. There’s been a lot of uncertainty and
change in the last couple of years, but he’s always been there. Always right
behind me, right beside me, right in front of me leading the way. Always there,
always around, never questioning what we are and where we’re going, just knowing
I needed him to stick around. And I have, and I’m glad he did.
Fuck. I promised myself I wouldn't get all maudlin and reflective tonight.
It’s his birthday. I don’t need to lie here contemplating the ins and outs
of our shared history and time together. He can do that all he wants. Birthdays
are for beating yourself up about what you have yet to accomplish, overanalyzing
your relationships and reminding yourself that you’ll never be the person
you really want to be. Birthdays fucking suck. Guess that’s why I’m trying
so hard to make sure his doesn’t.
Abruptly, he slips out of my arms and only then do I open my eyes and focus
on my surroundings.
“What?” I ask him as I furrow my brow. He’s looking at me like I've done something
peculiar.
“What’s wrong?” He says it so softly I can barely hear him.
I sit up, trying to shake off the sex haze. “What’s wrong with you?” This
is quickly turning into a ‘Who’s on first?’ skit.
“I’m asking you…,” his fingers trail along my cheek as his hand rests against
the side of my face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I brush his hand away and wipe away the errant tears staining my cheeks. See?
I knew I had to stop thinking about all this sappy bullshit. Fucking teary-eyed
and I didn't even know it.
“Brian,” he whispers and tries to get closer. I shake my head quickly.
“Nothing,” I say a little too sharply. Then, immediately feeling bad, I force
myself to look at him. Actually, I stare at him. I let my eyes do all the
talking.
I’m fine, Justin. I am absolutely fine. I’m just worried about... Shit, I
don’t know. Are you happy? Are you safe? Is this what you wanted? Am I…
I just wait until he hears it all. Every silent word. After a long moment
he gives me a small, sad smile. I’m not sure what to make of that. He leans
over and brushes my lips, “I love you, too.” His whisper tickles my ear. It
makes me shiver. And I do know what to make of that.
5am
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