Justin’s POV
Gap filler for 507
********
Justin's life isn't going quite the way he planned it.
My breath hitches as the front door slams. My heart, which had come to a full
stop, jumpstarts and suddenly I can it feel it racing. It’s like a hummingbird
is trapped in my ribcage.
I hear Michael fucking around in the kitchen, something breaks and I start to
descend the stairs but then I hear him cleaning it up. Unless there’s blood
loss, I’d just assume go back to my room and forget that Brian was ever here.
Right.
**
You know how when you get to a new place you often wake up disoriented, expecting
to see the door or the wall or something other than what is in front of you?
It’s disarming and scary and sometimes in your sleepy haze you can’t remember
where you are, or where you’re supposed to be, but it feels wrong so you panic.
My whole fucking life is like that.
I never wake up in the right place, so I find myself panicking all the fucking
time.
When I got back from LA, things with Brian were supposed to finally fall into
place. My life was supposed to finally get started. My time was going to be
spent producing great art and fucking my incredibly hot boyfriend and hanging
out with my amazing friends and going to mother’s for dinner on Sunday nights.
The problem with ‘supposed to’ is that it simply never is.
I broke up with Brian, I forget what fine art even looks like, my friends aren’t
that fucking great and my mother doesn’t return my phone calls.
I should have made a plan B.
**
I lie down and stare at the ceiling, minutes pass and then hours. Sleep completely
evades me as my mind races, flooded with memories.
I’ve thought a lot about the early days with Brian recently. In mulling over
how I could possibly leave him, I thought about how I ended up with him. All
the silly, trite, clichés are true. I was the one night stand that stayed, his
teenage stalker, all of it. But, in the end, it was worth it.
It’s over now and I need to figure out how to move on, but I wouldn’t trade
it. Not any of it. Sure, I’d do some of it differently. I’d rewrite our history.
In my version we’d end up together. But I regret none of it.
**
Everything stings right now. It’s all raw and open and exposed to the world.
Everyone looks at me like a lost puppy they want to deliver back to its home.
I stay stoic and smile and tell them it’s for all the right reasons and it’s
the only answer and it’s the best thing for everyone. I wait until I’m in the
shower to cry. You can only lie to yourself for so many hours in the day.
But, this will get better. It will get easier. It won’t hurt so much in a week,
in a month, in a year. I know this to be true because people tell me it is.
That’s the way it is in the movies, right? Of course, if Hollywood taught me
anything it’s that life is all smoke and mirrors. Unless you’re ready for the
disgusting, awful truth, please pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
**
I sigh and sit up; I move over and look out the window. The street is tree lined
and dark, painfully quiet. I think about the couples all tucked soundly into
their beds. Limbs entwined and lips touching shoulder blades and soft dicks
nuzzled in the warm crook at the base of an ass and fuck I’m horny. I should
have fucked Brian goodbye instead of hugging him.
My hands push the white sheet down over my thighs. My fingers thread through
the course hair at the base of my stomach. It feels a little strange when you
jerk off in a new bed for the first time. But, all I can think about Brian.
And it’s this or cry.
**
I’d just gotten back from LA; I’d been home maybe ten days. Work had been crazy
for Brian. He’d practically been living in the office all week. He even slept
there one night…or just worked all night, hard to tell.
Finally Friday night he resurfaced, haggard and pissed off. The pitch he’d been
working himself into an early grave over had been postponed. He stripped down
and turned on the shower. I considered joining him, but decided the steam and
time alone might do him some good.
When he emerged I kept working, sitting cross legged on the couch with a sketch
pad balanced on my knees, waiting for him to make a move. I listened to him
intently, heard him dry himself off, brush his teeth, fuck around with his eye
cream. I realized after a few minutes that he wasn’t going out. I was elated.
Then I heard him in the bedroom, hanging up the suit he’d thrown on the floor.
A moment later a drawer slid open, then another. I listened to the unmistakable
sound of the slow pull and push of wheels on the runners. I knew exactly what
he was doing, and I smirked to myself. Fucker had been too busy to realize I’d
moved in.
Ten seconds later he was on top me. He sank down over the back of the couch,
pushing my sketch pad to the floor and my shirt up over my head. He was naked
and wet and smiling. Who knew my underwear and socks, folded in squares in his
bottom drawer, would be such a turn on?
He unzipped my khakis and yanked hard until I lifted my hips and then he slid
them down past my knees, he had my dick in his mouth before it had time to get
hard. I threw my head back and moaned, running my fingers through his wet hair.
I loved the way I could pull water droplets off the ends of the longer hair
at his neck and run them down the expanse of his back.
He had his left hand on my balls and his right was jerking the base of my cock.
I traced a finger over the hollow in his cheeks and sucked in a sharp breath.
Brian Kinney with a cock in his mouth is the perfect porn.
He pushed a few fingers back between my legs, it was a tight fit but they were
eagerly searching for my hole. I tried to raise my hips to help him, it made
the head of my cock hit the back of his throat, we moaned in unison. I thanked
God for Brian’s complete lack of a gag reflex. I used to daydream about him
being one of those guys who swallowed swords in a past life.
He finally got a spit-slicked finger into my ass and he had it pushing at my
prostate in no time. I hissed and bucked my hips and tried to hold off a fast
approaching orgasm.
“Brian, Brian,” I tugged at his hair and pleaded with him to stop. But he was
relentless, he was hungry for me in a way that was scary – even for Brian.
After a few more moments of tugging on his head and begging him to slow down
I finally let go. I sank onto his thrusting fingers and relaxed just enough
to let the orgasm take me.
He swallowed eagerly each time I jerked into this mouth. He sucked on the head
until I stopped twitching and pushed him off of me.
“Jesus,” I panted.
“No, but I bet you saw God.” He smiled and sat up.
I laughed and when I looked at him his eyes were sparkling and he was stroking
himself. He looked genuinely happy. I remember thinking I get to spend my
life with him and feeling warm all over.
**
An alarm going off across the hall pulls me back into reality. I sigh and arch
my back and remind myself to be quiet. A whimper escapes my lips and my thighs
shake. I feel my stomach muscles jerk as I milk my cock a few strokes too many.
I always liked the after tremors that you get when you keep touching yourself
too long. Brian would always keep stroking me well past any comfortable point,
but he knew I loved the over stimulation.
I look out the window again, dawn isn’t too far off. I shut my eyes tight and
wish for sleep that I know won’t come. In a couple of hours it will be late
enough for me to get up and shower and start another day. It will be time to
start figuring out what the fuck I’m going to do with my life, start working
on my plan B.
End
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