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15 - The Best Things In Life Ain’t Free
Brian, Justin and Kane’s POV
Rated NC 17
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Brian
Just like I fucking said: every goddamn thing I want to keep to myself I
end up telling him. The kid is like a tall glass of truth serum I sip from each
day, making me more and more honest by the minute. Not that I’m ever dishonest,
I just rarely reveal this much truth. Fuck me.
He has the most bizarre look on his face. He’s processing what I’ve said. Maybe
he missed it. Nope, definitely not. Jesus. What has this kid done to me?
“What?” He squeaks. He’s so innocent and bare and needing to hear me explain
what I just said. I guess I owe him…no, wait…I don’t owe him a damn thing. But,
I do want to tell him. I guess…I need to tell him. It’s like if a tree falls in
the woods and no one in there to hear it, does it really make a sound? If Brian
Kinney isn’t fucking around, and there's no one there to witness it, does it
fucking matter?
“You heard me. I just thought I’d see…you know. Well, what it was like to just
be…well, you know.” God I’m articulate when I’m trying to tell someone I care.
The whole not fucking around thing isn’t that big of a deal. I just thought I’d
try it out for a couple of days and that turned into a couple of weeks and then
I realized that fucking Justin multiple times a day and working 14 hours leaves
little time for bar-hopping and back rooms anyway.
I feel the touch of his hands on the sides of my face. “Brian” He wears this
soft smile that reminds me of why I wanted him back in the first place. The kid
makes me feel warm and good, really good.
“Don’t get all soft on me. I’m not making any promises in that department.” I
pull his hands away from my face but I hold them tightly.
He nods, but continues to smile. Then he kisses me, softly and sweetly…like
he’s saying thank you with his tongue. His body melts into mine and he wraps
his arms around my waist, pinning us together.
I love the weight of his body against mine. I love running my hands up and down
his slim back. I love the way the sweet scent of his shampoo fills my head. I
love how his breathing calms me.
“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of my neck. I feel the words against
my skin. I’ve heard him say them before, but for the first time I really want
to say them back.
Oh, what the hell?
“Love you, too.” I say it quietly into the top of his head, pretty
unceremoniously, considering the gravity of the words. But, it just feels like
the right time. It was so much easier than I’d imagined. Of course, I’m still
holding my breath waiting for a reaction.
Moments pass without a response, and just when I think he’s going to let it
slide, when I start to feel both relieved and enraged by his silence, I feel
moisture on my arm. The glide of tears against my skin. I let him hide from me
for a minute, face buried in my chest as he struggles to conceal what he’s
doing. But tears of joy or relief, if that’s what they are, are allowed. I lift
his head and look into those glistening eyes, wet with emotion. I smile and he
smiles back.
“I know,” he barely whispers. I nod imperceptibly. Right answer, Sunshine. I
would never have told you what you didn’t already know.
Justin
My mind struggles through this unbelievable haze. I feel sick with emotion.
First I’m crying a little, but then I start to laugh. I told Brian I knew he
loved me, which I suppose was an appropriate response, but I think it’s one he
could appreciate. I had no clue what this moment would feel like. I didn’t
realize how much I would feel.
He pulls me into this kiss. This unbelievably, amazing, mind numbing,
earth-shattering kiss. I think it’s so good because it’s new somehow. We’re new
somehow. It’s like the first time you feel soft, crushed velvet under your
fingertips. It’s like free falling after that gut-wrenching incline on a roller
coaster. It’s pure bliss.
I know that a lot of people would look at this moment and say, ‘it’s about
fucking time.’ In some ways I'd agree with them. But in all honesty, it’s the
perfect moment. Brian picked the perfect moment to tell me, and I’m not
surprised. He’s always had impeccable timing.
I know people would also say that it's bullshit, my having to work so hard to
get him to say it. But, if you think about it, it’s like calculus. I know -
what the fuck do math and Brian Kinney have in common? Well, a lot really.
I had to work really, really hard to master both. I’m an artist, not a math
whiz. But I was an honors student in high school, and in senior year we had to
take calculus. So I did, and I really sucked. I was determined to graduate with
a high GPA, so I knew I needed to kick ass in the class. I got a tutor. I
worked really hard. It nearly killed me, but I got an A in that fucking class.
Of course, I also got an A in my honors art history class, but that was a
fucking cakewalk. Same grade, much different feeling of accomplishment.
Earning Brian’s love and his verbal admission of it, is much the same. I had
Ethan telling me he loved me right out of the fucking starting gate. It was
great to hear, and I admit that for a while I was walking around a little high
from hearing it all the time. I couldn’t figure out how two years with Brian,
in a really deep and meaningful relationship (or whatever the fuck he labeled
it) didn’t add up to the same three words. But the truth is, him telling me
now…after all this time…makes it mean so much more than it ever did with Ethan.
Maybe more than it ever has.
I don’t agree with that old saying, ‘the best things in life are free.’ That’s
total bullshit. The truth is that everything worth having is really fucking
hard work. Exactly like Daph said. Damn, she’s always right.
We drop to our knees onto the floor, and then he lays me back gently, covering
me with his body. I moan deep into his mouth, and he captures the vibrations,
consumes them. I swear I can hear them echoing in his chest.
I lift his shirt, try to get it over his head, but our lips refuse to part.
He’s pressing on every inch of me, leaving me no room to move or breathe. Yet,
I struggle against him, pulling at his shirt, clawing at his body. I want to
feel skin, dammit.
Normally he’d sit up and remove whatever I was pulling at. He acts so nonchalantly
about his designer-only collection of clothes, but I know he gets pissed when
he ruins them with rough sex. But not tonight, tonight is different. He’s lost
in me and I doubt he notices what I’m doing. I keep pulling and tugging, and
finally I hear a rip. But I barely hear it. It comes from somewhere far away,
like all sounds do when all you can hear is the beating of another heart and
the sound of your own breath.
We both turn to watch as the silky black top flows away from his body and puddles
into my right hand. I hold my breath when he sees the shredded fabric, bracing
myself for his anger at my carelessness. When he turns his head to look at me,
his smile fills me from the inside out and makes me want to scream ‘I love you’
a million times over. I manage to contain myself for his sake. He tosses our
shirts out of the way as he starts to ravage me again.
He opens my jeans and pulls them down to my ankles so I can kick them off. As
I’m concentrating on the task at hand, he grabs my waist and flips me over,
placing me face down on the hardwood floor. I feel the sweat on my chest slide
on the slick floor beneath me. When he licks my spine from top to bottom, I
can feel his tongue hit every vertebra on the way down. I extend my arms above
my head and try to concentrate on remembering how to breathe.
He opens my legs to slide his tongue all over my balls. My cock strains beneath
me and begs for freedom. I start to whimper as his tongue moves upward. His
hands move to my hips, restricting their movement. He always has to restrain
me. Brian knows I’d knock his teeth out if he didn’t hold me down while he rimmed
me.
I wriggle and whimper and pant and plead and get lost in the feeling of his
magic tongue going to work on me. He pushes me right to the edge and brings
me back over and over again until I’m screaming for him to let me come. “Please
Brian, please…please…please…” I beg, over and over until I’m breathless. Then,
just when I think he’s going give in, he takes his tongue away. Robs me of the
ecstasy. I want to cry. I want to slap him. I want to kiss him. I want to fuck
him.
He moves up my body and puts his lips to my ear. I have no fight left in me
and I’m so hard it hurts. My cock leaks all over my belly and floor and slides
beneath me. It doesn’t understand Brian. But I do…I understand him.
Lips pressed to my ear he says in a husky voice, “Ask nicely.”
“Please Brian, please.”
“Say it again.” Fucking torturous freak! He loves to hear me beg. Fucking loves
it.
“Please, please, please...”
His voice gets deeper, thicker with lust, “I love it when you beg. I love you.”
The words send me straight over the fucking edge. He knew they would. Somehow,
hearing it the second time was better than the first. The trepidation and hesitancy
of his earlier declaration was gone. The uncertainty was gone. It was sure and
strong. It was beautiful.
I start to shake under him and erupt all over the place. I shoot until it seems
as if there isn’t a drop of liquid left in my body. My arms tremble with the
effort of holding myself off the floor as my hips sway with my release. Just
as I'm about to collapse, he runs his hand over the head of my cock and catches
the last bit of come as it emerges.
Fingers in his mouth, he looks at me and waits for me to come back down to earth.
When he makes me come like that, he knows I need a minute. I’m resilient, but
when it’s that good…I need a minute. He knows and so he waits.
Finally, I roll onto my back and look at him with all the adoration and lust
I can muster. “I love you. More than you know.”
He smiles - that fucking smile is going to be the end of me. Everyone says it’s
my smile that lights up a room, but I think that's only because they've never
seen Brian smile. At least not when he’s actually meant it.
I start to roll over again, but his firm hand against my shoulder stops me.
He settles me on my back, crawls on top of me, leans down and presses his wet
mouth against mine in this soft, yet soul-shaking kiss. He lets it go on for
minutes, growing deeper and deeper, yet managing to stay soft and wonderful.
I’m starting to get a raging hard-on again, so I grab the back of his head in
an attempt to intensify the moment. He pulls away and gives me that look, the
one that made me feel this way about him. Then he says, “Slow…go slow.” I can
only nod, agreeing that we should savor this…whatever it is. This moment, I
guess.
“We’ve got all night.” He says against my lips in a deep, smooth voice that's
so full of sex and love (the love part being what gets me in the gut) that I
shiver.
“We’ve got forever.” Shit, did I just say that? Ugh. This is the kind of shit
that ruins moments like these. I have the biggest fucking mouth. Fuck, fuck,
fuck.
But then…he smiles. He just fucking smiles. Then he kisses me. And the moment
he does, I know… I KNOW that this is going to work after all.
Brian
And that was it. I told Justin I loved him and it wasn’t that bad. In fact,
it was a good thing. It feels better now that it’s out there and he’s heard
it and it's no longer eating away at me. I guess I knew that Kane was right.
I just needed to get over my shit and do it.
I’ve felt it for longer than I care to admit, but I always told myself that
he needed to know it, he needed to feel it, before I would ever say it. Apparently,
he caught on a while ago and has just been waiting for me to catch up. I suppose
we needed to go through all of that to get to this place. Or some shit like
that…
In the end, I know I needed to say the words more than Justin needed to hear
them. I needed to prove to myself that I was capable of caring about someone
enough to say them. I meant it, still mean it…I do love him. I don’t know if
we’ll make it for the long haul. It’s going to be a lot of work (as if it hasn’t
been a lot of fucking work already.), but just like Justin said the other day
when I was ripping him a new asshole for something totally trivial, the best
things in life ain't free. Lord knows he’s preaching to the choir on that one.
I have to pay out the ass for everything I own, including the mouthy little
twink who sleeps in my bed. But, I don’t mind. I don’t mind one bit.
Kane
“You told him?”
“I told him.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, good for me.”
“Don’t sound so downtrodden, Brian. It’s a brilliant thing to be with someone
you love.”
“Yes, brilliant.”
“Okay Romeo. Glad to see your three seconds of being human have been used up
for the week. Let’s talk about me then.”
“About you? We never talk about you, Kane.”
“Exactly my point. We never talk about me. Well, at least not when you’re sober.”
“Thanks.”
“Just being honest.”
“Whatever. So what about you?”
“Glad you’re interested.”
“No, I am. So out with it.”
“I called him.”
“Called him?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“And he was happy to hear from me.”
“Told you.”
“You did not, you asshole. The only conversations we ever had about him were
you telling me to get the fuck over it and move on.”
“Well, it has been like years. But I guess I understand better now why it was
still important to you.”
“Yes, you can empathize now that you have your little true love back.”
“I’ll hang up.”
“Not until I’ve told you that he’s single.”
“After all this time?”
“Yep. Six years. Feels like yesterday. He told me he was with someone for most
of that time, but they’ve been done for almost a year now.”
“So…”
“So, he’s coming to stay with me in London for a few days. See how it goes.
He sure as shit was shocked to hear from me.”
“I bet. Well good.”
“Good?”
“Good. You can fucking tell the guy you’ve been fucked up over him for the last
half dozen years and then live happily ever after.”
“Yes, well…something like that.”
“Just
tell him you love him, Kane. A wise man once told me to get over all of my
bullshit and learn to use the word. It wasn’t that hard.”
“A wise man indeed.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, I have to run, Brian. It’s been fun. And, I am happy for you.”
“Thanks Kane. Call and let me know how things work out for you two. What was
his name? I don’t think you ever said. I just remember you calling him ‘my
Justin.’”
“Uh…his name IS Justin actually.”
“No shit?”
“No shit, my friend. Maybe that’s why I always knew we were both destined for
our Justins.”
“Destined, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Well alright Mr. Destiny, go manifest your own. I have someone waiting for me
at home.”
“Bye Brian.”
“Later.”
**************************************************
And that was the last time I talked to Brian. It’s been a couple of months now.
I keep meaning to call and tell him how things went, but life just moves so
fast. I barely have time to feed my cat, much less keep up with the life and
times of Brian Kinney. I think about him a lot though. I wonder how he and
Justin are. Something tells me they’re well. Better than well.
“Ewan?” I look up, my train of thought interrupted.
“Yeah?” I smile at him.
“Are you sure you want me to have both of those dresser drawers?” Take anything
you fucking want. As long as you stay.
“You have a lot of stuff, it’s fine.” I still have a ways to go before I
actually start saying what I mean. Brian and I are still alike in many ways.
“Thanks hon.” No, thank you.
“No problem, J.” I love you.
As he turns to fill those dresser drawers, I think about how many years I
wasted being a ridiculous asshole. I think about how easily the same thing
could have happened to Brian. I knew he and I met for a reason. I’m a firm
believer that everyone who crosses your path has something to tell you or
something to teach you, you just have to listen for it. And it’s obvious to me
now that we each needed each other to figure out what the fuck we wanted and
how to get it. In the end, we both found our way. We both found our Justin.
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