Ep 220 Gap Filler
Brian’s POV
Rated R (sorry kids, there was nothing hot and heavy about this one!)
Why do you do this to yourself, Brian? Never believe in love. You've let yourself
go, started to believe…in…something...and now, after all this...he's letting
go. Should have seen this coming. I can't give him what he wants. Never said
I could. Never thought I would. And here I am lying awake...it's after 3. Wondering.
Hoping. That he'll slide open that door, come back to me, and things will go
on. We’ll survive this. If he wants us to…
But that's not what he wants...he wants flowers, and picnics and romantic getaways.
That's not me...I can't do those things for him. I can't love him that way.
He should know by now. I can never be what he wants me to be. So I should let
him go...let him run to that kid. Hell he's not that bad. Not as hot as me,
but who is? Justin will find that out.
He thinks I don't love him? Stupid twat. Then why are my eyes refusing to close,
transfixed on a door that may not open…a door that might be closed…forever?
Why do I have this strange feeling, like something has gone and it is never
coming back?
I look over at the empty space beside me. These past few nights I've been falling
asleep with it just like that…empty. He crawls in late, after I’ve gone to bed
and we lay together wrapped in each other’s arms. But, there is a void...a distance,
an uneasiness...I feel it and I know he's hurt. My cheeks feel numb and my eyes
almost start to water.
Fuck.
Perfect timing, Sunshine.
The door slides open and there he is. Looking tired, sad, confused. He looks
at me. Does he know that I've been waiting for him? I don't want to look at
him...to make this any more uncomfortable. But I need to. To show him that I
know this isn't where he wants to be...that I'm not what he wants right now…maybe
never...shit…my eyes are starting to burn but I...I just need to touch him...want
to comfort him...hold him…for…the last time.
There's irony in the fact you are most silent when you have the most to say.
I've never felt so overwhelmed by the sight of him. He's never stirred so much
emotion in me. Why can't I just ask him to stay?
He stands still at the base of the stairs. Waiting for me to make a move. Not
sure if his feet can carry him up to this bed. Not sure if I'll allow them to.
Head propped up slightly against the wall, my eyes are heavy with pain and sleep,
but I keep them open…don’t want to lose sight of him. Never let them off of
him. Let them trace every inch of his familiar body. Let them soak him in. This
could be the last time my eyes will ever get to look at him this way.
His skin glows pale blue as moonlight dances lightly on its surface. He stares
and he waits. Needs permission. I can't give it yet, but I soften my look. He
makes his first move. One foot after the other, he walks the familiar path up
to the bed. A trek he's made a million times before, but so new and different
tonight because it hurts him. I can see the pain in each heavy step. I watch
the anguish wash across his face. Watch him gulp hard, swallow the guilt.
He lifts his shirt over his head. A shirt I've seen him wear a thousand times
before, but tonight somehow…it’s different. He takes off his pants and his shoes
and his socks. Leaving them all in a messy pile at the foot of the bed. His
clothes usually end up all over the loft, wherever I throw them as I ravage
him. But tonight they sit in a sad little heap below him. His eyes never leave
mine.
He's better than this. Than us. He deserves more and we both know it. But can
I just let him walk away? Screw Ethan, screw all of it...just come lie in this
bed with me…in our bed. Hide under these warm sheets. Lie next to me for eternity.
Let me listen to you breathe. I would freeze this moment if I could. Have us
stay here forever. Never talking, never moving, never hurting, never knowing...what
anything else is like…outside of this bed. Stay here with me Justin. Just stay.
I toss back the sheets and duvet in a butterfly welcome. My invitation makes
his eyes soften and his shoulders slump. Relief washes over his face. I offer
him safety, in our bed and in my arms. A comfort he only found with me, until
recently. Does he keep you safe Justin? Does Ethan make you breathe easy?
Leaving his underwear on (we both know there won’t be any sex tonight), he crawls
up toward me from the base of the bed. He looks like a small child seeking comfort
from their mother after having a bad dream. I wish this were only a bad dream.
Back facing me he moves in closer than I expect. He needs to feel me now as
much as I need to feel him. I lay the duvet down on top of him softly. Then
I push it off his arms and run my hand over his skin. I touch both of his arms
lightly and his fingers a little. I let my hand barely trace the shape of him.
I
don’t see his face, but I can tell his eyes are still open. I can hear his
breathing hasn’t settled and his heart is racing a little. I inch closer to him
and he settles back into my body. I’ve spooned him a thousand times before,
it’s become our typical method of sleep, but it’s so different
tonight…knowing…it’s the last time.
I just barely hear him gulp and then smack his lips. He’s probably fighting
back tears. There’s so much I want to say, but I eat every word. The loft has
never been so loud and so quiet all at the same time.
Save for our breathing and the city noise six stories below we lay in silence,
but the voice in my head is screaming. I can almost hear his anxiety, his
indecision, his guilt, anger, hurt, love, hate…all tumbling around his brain.
Making it hard to sleep. Making it hard to be still in my arms.
Strange to know I could press my lips to his ear and whisper three little magic
words and make it better. Something so simple could change the course of
history. I could make tonight something different with a tiny utterance of
love. I could make our lives something different with one profession of
something…that is…true.
But I won’t, can’t, don’t…if he doesn’t feel that I love him…right now…in this
bed…in this life…words aren’t going to change that. Shouldn’t change that. He
doesn’t know anything.
Pressing my nose to the back of his head, I close my eyes and suck in a deep
breath. I want to bottle his smell. Carry it around with me forever. How will I
ever wash these sheets when he’s gone? I don’t ever want to forget his scent.
Holding him a little tighter I feel him relax just a tiny bit. That’s it…settle
into me. He can feel now I want to revel in this, don’t want to spoil it. Don’t
want to fuck him, suck him, kiss him, talk to him…just want to lie here.
I want to memorize the way his body feels beside me. The rhythm of our
breathing. The softness of his back against my belly. The way my body cups his
so perfectly. The way his hair tickles my nose and fills my head with its sweet
scent.
I want to memorize the way the moonlight pours inside our room and lies upon
his body. The way our legs entwine and tangle beneath me. The hollow of his
back, the arch of his spine and the lacing of his fingers in mine.
I bite my lower lip and hope he doesn’t feel me do it with my lips so close to
his head. I’m not going to cry over this kid, over this moment. I knew we
wouldn’t always be this way. I knew he’d need to get on with his life soon
enough. Just didn’t know it would be…so…soon.
I almost shake my head, willing away the thoughts of him. He’s right here next
to me, but I just want to forget. I want to get so lost inside of this moment
that I don’t think about anything that came before, or anything that is going
to come after. After…god, what is going to come after this?
You had to do this to me didn’t you Justin? You had to spend a year breaking
down my walls…figuring me out…eating away at me…loving me…never giving up on
me…making yourself mean something to me. Couldn’t have left a good fuck alone.
Now look where we are. Look where you’ve put us. I didn’t do this Justin. I
didn’t ask for this. Fuck, I…did…not…ask…for…this.
I feel his body twitch in front of me. Maybe he’s uncomfortable, but he’s
scared to move. He’s scared that something might break if he breathes too
loudly or moves too quickly or thinks too deeply. It’s broken Justin, it’s
already broken…do what you need to do.
I shift behind him, leaving more space, hoping to make him more comfortable.
Although, I can’t for the life of me figure out why I’m worried about HIS
comfort level. When I move back, he moves back. I’m impressed by his
willingness to be close to me. He’s worked so hard to push me away.
My dick stirs beneath these cool blue sheets and I move, almost imperceptibly,
to make sure it doesn’t touch him. I’m not turned on, but being near him…it’s
my natural reaction. We’re naked, we’re in bed…my body knows what is suppose to
be happening here. My mind must not be communicating with my dick tonight. It
rarely is.
I bite my lower lip and will my dick to soften. I don’t want to fuck him, I
don’t want to be inside of him, I don’t want to taste him…kiss him…touch
him…run my hands over his back…run my lips over his shoulders…run my tongue
over his dick. I just…want…to…FUCK, I just want to not feel this anymore.
End
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