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13 - You Have to Know
Justin and Brian’s POV
NC 17
Happily ever after…or something like it.
******************
Brian
This is all I have, all I can give him. I know I can’t expect him to settle
if this isn’t enough, but I’ve said all I can afford to say. Maybe there will
be more in time. Maybe he’ll teach me to speak what I feel. But maybe this is
as far as it goes, verbally anyway. I can’t make him any guarantees. I can try
harder, and I will. I think I’ve demonstrated that tonight. But I can’t give
more than I have, and this is all I have. I swear to God it is.
I turn to face him again. I know getting up and walking away from him wasn’t
the right thing to do, but I just couldn’t be close to him right then. I need
to think, to breathe. When he’s staring at me, touching me, it makes vocalizing
what I’m feeling even harder. All I want to do is touch him, show him. I know
he needs more than that. I wish he could feel how much I care about him when
I touch him. It would make things so much easier.
When he doesn’t respond I add, “Justin, you have to know…”
I leave the sentence hanging, I feel like there should be more to it. But really
that’s all I can say. He has to know, he has to feel it. If he can’t feel it,
if he isn’t sure, then what’s the point?
He slowly nods and crosses the room to where I’m standing. I will him to keep
a safe distance, but I know he won’t. Sure enough, he slides his hands
up my chest and onto my shoulders. Then he waits for me to turn my head to look
into those deep blue eyes. They do something to me. I can chart the course of
our history together by what I’ve seen in those eyes. From his initial naïveté
and trust to hard and angry after the bashing, and now I see this unabashed
love. I don’t think I deserve it, but God I want it. And that’s more than I’ve
ever wanted, from anyone. That says something, doesn’t it?
Justin
He’s so exposed right now. I feel like if I reach out and touch him my hands
would pass right through his body. I shiver when he says ‘I have to know.’ Normally
the statement would confuse me, but ironically I know exactly what he means.
I do have to know. I have to feel that he loves me and wants me here. I guess
that’s what he’s meant all along. If I don’t feel it, then nothing he says matters.
I guess that was the problem before, I stopped feeling how much he cared. But
that had more to do with my own convoluted ideas about love than with what was
actually happening. Although don’t get me wrong, he was no angel.
I cross the room to him and risk putting my hands on his shoulders. It gets
his attention, though I think I already had it.
“Brian,” I give a pregnant pause, “I do know.”
His small, shy, smile melts me as his hands come up to rest on either side of
my neck. Good thing, considering I feel so weak right now my head might not
stay on straight if it weren’t supported by those strong hands.
After a long moment I whisper to him, “I know how much you care. I just let
myself forget because I was searching for some far-fetched fairytale. My insecurities
about us led me believe that if you couldn’t say you loved me then you didn’t.
I needed so badly to hear it, Brian. Things are different now though, we're
both different. But you do have to try harder. Don’t fuck up just to fuck up.
And talk to me.”
"I do.”
"Bullshit.” I mutter. This is exactly what I’m fucking talking about. I
slip away from him, but don’t get far before he grabs my arm and spins me toward
him.
"Justin, I do.” He repeats it like I’m the idiot here.
“You don't talk to me, Brian. That’s the fucking problem. Instead of talking
to me you get pissed off, you stomp around, you pick up a trick, you ignore
me until I go away. You can’t handle me like that. You can’t make me feel like
I’m in your way, like I’m some problem that got dumped in your lap.” I say quietly.
The anger inside of me builds, but I’m too weak to let that show. I say the
words as if I've rehearsed them, and in a way I have. They’re things I’ve thought
a thousand times before but never said to him.
"No, that isn’t what I meant.” His voice is so quiet that I have to strain
to hear him over the sound of my pulse thrumming in my ears. “I know I don’t
talk to you. I know I need to try harder. I was talking about that thing you
need to hear. Well, I do.”
Oh. Shit. Well, now don’t I feel like the asshole?
Brian
I just told the brat that I love him, well sort of, and he’s just staring at
me. Classic.
I hold his arm just above the elbow, restraining him. I don’t want him to get
away. Not now. Not ever.
Finally he lifts himself a little, rocking onto the balls of his feet and practically
falls onto my lips. I shift closer to him and gather him in my arms, holding
him tight and deepening the kiss. I start to snake my tongue out, but he beats
me to the punch. I open up and let him in, I remember that familiar taste that
I once craved. I still do.
He opens his body to me and goes limp in my arms. I lean back to counterbalance
his weight as he falls on me. It feels good, holding him against me again, absorbing
him. It feels better than good.
We both moan as our groins grind together of their own volition. We never did
have a problem in the sexual chemistry department. It’s all I can do not to
rip his clothes off and throw him over the end of the couch at this very second.
But, this is about a lot more than sex. It’s about us.
Justin
I close my eyes and melt into Brian’s body. It feels like I’m floating. I can’t
wrap my brain around what’s happening tonight, around what's happening right
now, around what Brian has said to me. I need to process it all, but later.
Right now I just want my tongue trapped in Brian’s wet, warm mouth and my arms
locked around his lean frame.
I know I’m putting too much weight on him, but I feel like I'll crumble if I
try to try to stand on my own. He doesn’t seem to mind. Our tongues delve further;
fighting to deepen the kiss, taste more of each other.
Brian presses me backwards and I fall onto the arm of the chair next to us.
He stands above me, bent over so that our mouths don’t break contact. I can
hear the rustle of clothes. My mind is too cloudy to know if they are his or
mine. Cool air on my warm skin tells me they were mine. I practically fall back
into the chair as his mouth moves down my stomach, spreading wet kisses on my
skin like drops of rain.
“Where?” He whispers into my ear before his tongue starts to draw circles on
the soft spot of skin there. I don’t know if he’s asking me where I want him
to touch me or where I want him to fuck me or where in the hell we think this
relationship is going, but really the answer is the same.
“Anywhere. Everywhere. I’ve missed you.” I push out the words, working so hard
to form each syllable because I’m absolutely breathless.
“Me too.” The way he says it, with such certainty, makes me moan. We are so
right together, so fucking right. I wish I could show him. But, I think he knows.
He has to know.
Brian
Ugh, I want to be inside of him so badly, but I also want to take this slow.
It’s been a while, for us. It’s been too long.
I’m not stupid enough to think he hasn’t been fucking around during our hiatus.
I would expect nothing less. But I know when we’re together it’s different.
It’s different for me, so I know it has to be different for him. It’s like it
takes more out of me, drains me. I want it to be slow and fast, soft and hard.
It feels good and it hurts, it breaks me down and builds me up. It’s more than
sex. I guess I always knew that, but I’m admitting it now.
He pulls me on top of him, into the chair. I know we should move, make it over
to the bed, but somehow I don’t think either of us wants to break this connection.
I put my hands down to break our fall as we slide sideways out of the chair.
We hit the floor with a thud, Justin on top of me. His mouth on mine is completely
unrelenting.
Our bodies move in synch. Clothes peel off, skin slicks with the first glisten
of pre-sex sweat. We start to pant at the same time, moan at the same time,
pump our hips at the same time. I’ve always wanted him, no doubt about that,
but never like this. Never quite like this.
Naked and shaking, we strain for more. Our dicks, stiff and leaking, rub together
as we kiss until our lips are practically numb. I grab the back of his head,
trying to push our mouths even closer together. I can’t get enough of his taste,
of his smell. God, I just can’t get enough of him.
We jockey for control, half wrestling with one another. We fight our way across
the rug, pushing the table out of the way, knocking the chair backwards a foot.
I think of the bruises that will bloom on our bodies tomorrow; reminders of
an event that feels like a dream.
“Roll over,” he says seductively into my ear. My brain stops. Wait, that’s my
line. I turn my head to look at him, and he smiles so sweetly I couldn’t deny
him a thing. I let him slowly roll me onto my stomach.
His warm breath comes in waves over my shoulders as his hands roam my back.
His tongue starts on the back of my neck and slides down, over each shoulder
blade, along various ribs, tickling my spine. It lands at the top of my ass,
running over that hollow just above my crack. I hold my breath, close my eyes
and wait.
Justin
I rarely rimmed Brian. Practically never. It’s a control thing. I think it always
freaked him out to hand his body over to me. Much like letting me fuck him,
it was something he only allowed when he was really, really in the mood. And
even then I could always tell he was tense, never really letting go and enjoying
it like I always did. But, things are different now, very different.
I roll him onto his stomach and let my tongue play all over his back, nipping
his spine, sweeping across his shoulders. I stop and play in the divot just
above his crack. It’s one of my favorite parts of Brian’s body. He buries his
head in his arms and lifts his ass a little. I know he wants this so badly I
practically come just thinking about it.
I finally start sliding my tongue across his ass. I let it dip into the crack
ever so often, eliciting whimpers from Brian. If he had a clue as to how much
of a turn on this was he’d let me do it all of the time. But maybe then it wouldn’t
be so special.
I reach between his thighs and take his balls in one hand, while the other is
busy double-teaming with my tongue to torture his hole. I finally stiffen my
tongue and start to penetrate him. I wonder if he has any clue how fucking tight
he is? God, this is hot.
Brian
His cheek slides down my back, landing in the curve above my ass. His breath
comes quick and warm across my sensitized skin, making my pulse and my mind
race. His lips, slick with saliva, scatter soft kisses all over me. My eyes
start to roll back and I can barely see or hear, but I can feel…God, I can feel
everything. His mouth drags over my back and ass and touches places I didn't
know were even sensual. His teeth rake over my hips and thighs and finally his
tongue finds its way inside.
Jesus, it’s all I can do not to buck backwards and fuck myself on his tongue.
We’re going so fast one minute and so slow the next, taking each other to the
edge of that cliff and then backing down at the last possible second. We always
did keep each other in check. Maybe that’s why this works so well. One of us
threatens to jump and the other talks him down off the ledge.
I feel his tongue slide in and out, deeper with each thrust. He swirls it inside,
making circles and figure eights, stopping when he finds a place that makes
me gasp. I try so hard to stay quiet. I’m not the noisy one. He’s the one who
likes to whimper and plead and beg and moan and shudder and scream. I just huff
and puff and maybe let a little go when I come. But with him, it’s so different.
He makes me want so much more than I ever did with anyone else, and he delivers.
It’s all I can do not to scream at the top of my lungs ‘fuck me, fuck me, fuck
me.’
My hips start the slow rise and fall. I keep getting too close to coming and
he keeps stopping me two-seconds shy. Now his tongue’s found this delicious
rhythm and my hips match it with mini-thrusts. My dick, surely purple and pulsating
by now, moves between my body and the carpet. I have a fleeting thought about
not coming on my own rug, and then I remember that at least it’s white.
My lips move without any prompting from my brain, “Fuck me, Justin. Fuck. Me.”
Without hesitation, I hear the tear of the condom wrapper, the roll of the thin
latex over the tip of his swollen dick and the sigh that escapes his lungs as
his cock seeks entry. Hips raised, body braced, I wait for him to come inside.
His hands caress my back, his lips find the smooth space between my shoulder
blades that I love to have licked. In one beautiful, fluid motion, he slides
inside and leaves us both breathless.
He starts to move in and out of me with the rhythm and deftness of a pro. I’ve
taught him so well. I’ve said that a million times, but his natural talent is
what’s gotten him to this place. This place where he can tease me and please
me and even fuck me. I’ve never let anyone fuck me. Not anyone, ever, except
Justin. There are many things I swore I’d never tell anyone and in the end he
forced the words from me in a haze of love that he built around us. But this,
this one secret, it has to stay mine. Everyone needs to keep a part of them
sacred, and that’s my part. It isn’t something he needs to know. Maybe it isn’t
something he’d even want to know.
I almost let someone once, almost. But in the end Justin took my virginity the
same as I took his. How ironic, how appropriate…
I remember that first time like it was seconds ago. I feel that rush of emotion
like it’s happening all over again. In a sense, it is. Letting him inside, he
knows what it means. It means I trust him implicitly. It means I…love him. Telling
him he’s the only one who’s ever had me like this wouldn’t change that.
Justin
Being inside Brian is like nothing I’ve ever known and nothing I will ever know.
I think about what it means when he lets me inside, when he actually ASKS me
to make love to him and it's mind-blowing. It’s his letting me do this to him,
to us; his trusting me and caring enough to let his guard down.
His hips buck up to meet each of my deep thrusts. He exhales loudly each time
my dick delves deeper inside. He moans my name and starts to reach back to clutch
my body. His wanton behavior is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
**************************************************************************************
Collapsed in a spent pile on the middle of the living room floor, our chests
rise and fall together. Very unceremoniously, I roll off Brian’s back, but then
he reaches for my body to stop me. He slides backwards towards me, inching my
dick back inside as best he can. “Stay,” he whispers. And I will. I’ll stay
for as long as he’ll have me. And I think that will be a very long time.
After a million moments pass, could have been ten minutes or ten hours, I whisper
into his hair, “Brian?”
He’s silent.
"Brian?”
"Hmmm?” He groans deep in the back of his throat to let me know he’s still
awake. Barely.
"Thank you.”
"For what?”
"For loving me.”
He turns his head and our eyes lock. His response, this slow, soft smile that
makes my gut tingle in the good way, is so appropriate. It's so Brian.
***************************************************************************************
I fall asleep still joined with Brian. I wake to the sun streaming in the windows
and warming the skin on my face, my hips sore from pressing against the floor
all night. My arm is asleep from being trapped under the weight of Brian’s body.
I’m scratched and bruised from the amazing sex, but my heart has never felt
better.
I
sigh at the sight of Brian, lying next to me. He’s still naked and vulnerable
and more beautiful than I’ve ever seen him. I don’t move for fear I’ll wake
him. Watching Brian sleep is my biggest guilty pleasure. I’ve memorized a
million sleep creases in his face from nights when the sheets pressed into him
and left their mark. I’ve memorized the dozens of ways his mouth looks when
it’s slack and relaxed. I could draw Brian sleeping in a hundred different
positions just from the mornings I soaked him in and filed away the memories as
he slept. But I don’t need to stash those memories and I don’t need to make
those drawings because he’s here with me, and he always will be.
Brian
When I wake up Justin is staring at me. I wait out that moment of numbness as
my brain catches up with my body, reminding me of everything that happened. My
ass is sore and my back is worse, but somehow I feel fine for the first time in
a long while.
He just smiles at me, that mega-watt smile that earned him his nickname. All I
can do is smile back.
We lay like that for a long time, in this goofy, ridiculous, love-struck haze
that would make me puke at any other time in my life with any other person.
He leans close and kisses my collarbone and then my neck and finally my mouth.
I barely react because I’m too busy watching him. I finally shift toward him to
deepen the kiss and only then do I realize how sore I really am.
"Fuck me,” I moan.
"Again?” He chuckles.
“No smart ass. I was bitching about how bad my body hurts.”
"Getting old,” he shakes his head and makes this obnoxiously innocent
face.
I jump up, pulling him with me. I slap his ass and start pushing him toward the
bedroom, “Old! We’ll see who’s sore after I get done with you.”
“You’ll never be done with me,” he spins me around and wraps his arms around
me.
"Try as I might, it would appear you’re here to stay, Sunshine.”
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