Justin's POV
"What makes you think I still want to?"
How had I known that would be his response – or something along those lines anyway... He had a point though, which was why I'd phrased the question the way I had. Because, really, it had taken nearly losing me – again – to get him to propose then; what chance did I have now? Though, glancing around the place, it didn't look like I'd been replaced...and he'd been alone at Babylon; I'd been watching. Killing time whilst I figured out how the hell to tell him I was back.
"It doesn't look like you've replaced me," I told him. "And you were stood alone at the bar."
"Thanks for reminding me," he replied cynically; "I've become Ted – minus the surgery."
"You're only 37," I said, meaning it in a good way – he didn't look it.
"Yeah and you're 25!" He shouted. Note to self; do not mention 'age' in front of Brian. "You haven't – metaphorically – died yet! You could still have any guy you want." Wait. Did that mean..? Were people seriously turning down Brian Kinney?
"We both know there's only one guy I've ever wanted," I reminded him.
"No one in New York catch your attention?" He asked with, seemingly, fake curiosity. I knew him better.
"They all looked like you, and if they didn't; I wasn't interested," I told him. "Not that I did anything if I was." Jacking-off and blow jobs can only get you so far; I was almost trembling. I had to restrain myself from closing the distance between us and ripping the clothes of him where he stood. "I still love you, Brian," I said, whilst I had his eye contact so he knew I meant it. "Always will."
Brian's POV
When the fuck did this happen? When did Brian Kinney turn into the type of guy who, upon hearing those words from the man in front of me – and knowing by the look in his eyes that they were true – would have to fight the urge to drop to his knees in relief.
"I didn't do anything either," I confessed, the words slipping from my lips before I could stop them.
"What?" Justin asked disbelievingly. I would have done the same if I didn't know it was true.
"I didn't- I haven't-" I sighed in defeat; may as well say it. "No one since you. I barely let anyone suck me off anymore..."
"What?" He asked again; still in shock.
"Please don't make me repeat it," I said through gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "I'd rather not relive the pathetic mess my life has become witho-" Without you. That's what I was going to say; and I said way too much to even begin trying to deny it. Though, somehow, I didn't think I would. "I love you too, Justin. Always have."
I stepped closer to him; and then I was lost. All I could see, smell, touch, taste and hear was Sunshine. If I died now, all I could think was that I'd have known a much better heaven than the one Vic showed me. I felt him guiding me to the bedroom and I went willingly, too happy and content and...drunk, to assert any power. But I was gonna change that in about 10 seconds.
As soon as we were up the steps I went to work, hastily grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head. Once that was out of the way I really got busy whilst he speedily un-did the buttons of my shirt, I kissed, licked, sucked and nibbled my way down his neck, his chest, his abdomen... When I reached his jeans the button almost flew off due to the forcefulness with which I ripped them open. Yanking them down past his knees, I then complied with his attempts to pull me back up to his lips, but a flash against his skin caught my attention.
"What's..?" I mumbled as I grabbed his wrist for a close inspection. He tried to pull his arm back but my grip was firm; he was wearing my bracelet. "How did you get this? I thought I-"
"I found it under the sofa years ago," he admitted guiltily.
"And you kept it? All this time? And wore it?"
"Every single day I was in New York without you."
"I'm sorry about that," I said, letting his wrist drop.
"Don't be," he said, his hand caressing my cheek. "We're together again now." He kissed my lips once, slowly. Then again, and again, each time for a little bit longer. All the while kicking off his shoes and his jeans before he started to remove mine. I tried to get into it but in my head all I could think was; together for how long? I had to know.
"Justin; stop," I said against his lips when my jeans were hanging below my hips. He looked at me in confusion. "How long are you here for?"
He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, I sat next to him, not bothering to re-fasten my jeans. Still hoping in vain that this would all end well, and it would therefore be pointless of me to do so.
"I'm here for good, Brian," he said, his tone sounded defeated. His answer confused me though.
"But New York..? You were happy there," I told him. "You were making your mark in the art world, building yourself up."
"I was happy," he said; "for the first year or so I was there. I haven't done any art in over a year," he admitted. "My last solo show was unsuccessful, the shows I did before that weren't amazing. It was great at first because I was this new talent in the big city, but after that, when the buzz wore off, I was just another artist."
"So, what the hell have you been doing since then?" I asked. I couldn't believe this.
"Waiting tables, dancing in the clubs, doing anything I could so I could make rent," he said. "I had to move out of my studio straight away, it was way too expensive."
"Why didn't you come back?" I asked. I was trying not to be angry.
"I was ashamed," he replied. "I didn't want to come back as the big failure, forced to live off you again – if you'd still have me. I don't deserve you after what I did. I left a great life, a great future, to become 'Mister Successful' and now I'm back here in the Pitts. Leaving here in the first place was a mistake. And I'll never be able to change that."
"Then let's just hope that you learn not to do it again," I said, placing a hand on his thigh. He looked up at me through glossy eyes as if he couldn't believe I'd forgive him. "I missed you. I never thought you'd ever come back. Who would after New York? I thought you'd forget about me and move on with someone who could make you happy."
"You're the only person who's ever done that. I'm just sorry I didn't realise it sooner. Can you ever forgive me?"
"For being an idiot, artistic type, determined to try and make his own way in the world?" He looked down, not getting the hint that I was joking. I tilted his chin up and his eyes met mine. "There's nothing to forgive." And then I kissed him to prove it.
"I was-thinking-in New York," he said against my lips between kisses.
"Mmm," I sighed, moving to his neck so he could say what was on his mind.
"And I thought of something that I didn't realise before which I should have," he finished.
"What was that?" I asked, leaving his neck alone, sensing that this required my full attention.
"You changed, Brian," he told me. "Let me finish," he said when I started to argue. "But you didn't change because we were getting married like I thought; you changed before that. I mean, the fact that you asked me in the first place is more than enough proof."
"That's why you asked me again," I realised.
"I know we can make it work; I'm not letting you go this time."
Do you love the boy – man – in front of you? I asked myself. Yes; I'd told him as much. Are you miserable when he's not here? Yes. Were the last three years of your life hell? Yes. Was not marrying him one of the biggest regrets of your life, second only to not bothering to give 110% to making it work long distance? Yes. Do you want his smile to be the first thing you see when you wake up every morning? Yes. Then you know what you have to do. It's what I should have done as soon as he brought it up.
I got up and left him sat there, a puzzled look on his face due to my apparent sudden change of mood. My mood hadn't changed at all though, if anything it had solidified. I opened the top drawer and hunted through the various vests and tee shirts till I found the small box at the back; I still hadn't returned them. I guess I hadn't given up hope after all.
I walked so I was stood in front of him before getting down on one knee; I would do things properly this time. "Justin Taylor," I began, taking pride in the fact that the huge smile that lit up his face was there by my doing. "I love you; I always have, even if I wouldn't admit it. I missed you more than I will ever say – even to you. I want to see your smile every day for the rest of my life. Marry me."
"You still didn't return them?" He joked. "Well, I guess that's a good thing. Yes, I will marry you." I went to open the box and put the ring on his finger but he snapped it shut in my hand. "Can't we do that later? We're so very nearly naked," he pointed out.
"Ah, the young man's sex drive," I mused. "How I miss it."
"Try and keep up," he teased.
Keep up? I mentally scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not that old," I said, dropping the box to the floor and springing up, knocking him backwards onto the bed. I pinned him, my hands wrapping round his wrists, using my weight to stop all his attempts to squirm and get free. He was mine. Unfortunately clothes were still in the way.
I kicked my shoes off and switched to holding his wrists in one hand so I could use the other to reach down and push my jeans down further. Once they were to my knees, Justin leant a helping hand; wrapping his legs around me and using his feet to push them the rest of the way off.
Smiling, I brought my lips back to his. I returned my hand to his wrist before I ran both hands down the inside of his arms, over his chest... "Get comfortable, Sunshine," I whispered in his ear, urging him to shuffle further up the bed. He did as I requested, but I stayed put. I moved my legs so they were either side of his and I was knelt over him, licking and sucking my way down his body.
I knocked his hands aside when he reached down to remove his underwear; "leave it," I told him, my voice muffled against the skin of his abdomen. I dragged my tongue down to his hips before taking the band of his boxers between my teeth. I then proceeded to pull them all the way down, trying not to get distracted as I uncovered him, letting his beautiful, hard, cock spring free.
Once he was done, I quickly removed both our socks and my own underwear before crawling back up the bed between his legs so that when I stopped they were rested on my shoulders. I reached for the nightstand where I still kept both condoms and lube, more out of habit really; it had been a while since I'd used them. I applied both and then got into position...
"Brian..?" Justin whispered tentatively.
"Take it easy, right?" He nodded. "Just like the first time," I said tenderly, leaning down and kissing the tip of his nose.
I placed myself at his entrance and then began to push in slowly, letting him adjust. His eyes scrunched shut and his teeth gritted, but not a note of his discomfort passed his lips. I hated the fact that I was causing him pain, but I would work very hard to fix that when I got moving. Sure, I was out of practice, but the last time I checked I was still the best fuck in Pittsburgh.
Justin's eyes opened and I took that as an okay to continue. I pushed the rest of the way in before pulling out slowly, and then repeated the motion. Okay, let's see if I remember how to do this, I thought, increasing my pace, trying to strike that spot which I was so good at hitting.
Beneath me Justin's eyes were closed in pleasure; he breathing loud, fast, and heavy. He moaned loudly his back arching of the bed in pleasure when I rubbed that spot I'd been searching for. Like riding a bike. I increased the pace of my thrusts again; pushing myself harder and faster into Justin, which elicited all sorts of delicious moans from his lips. It was a good thing Justin was still as flexible as I couldn't resist leaning down and catching his lips, his moans getting lost in our kiss.
I was panting; the sweat beading on my chest and the back of my neck before running down my spine. I wasn't sure how long I kept up the rhythm; all I know is I was having the time of my life, I'd ever felt this way before – even with Justin - then I came, and it got so much better. Justin quickly followed and we both rode out our highs before I collapsed, spent, against his chest. I took a moment to catch my breath then slowly pulled out before rolling off him so I was laid on my back beside him.
"So...do you see Gus much?" He asked when we'd both stopped panting.
"We just had the best fuck of my life after you agreed to marry me again, and you ask me about my son?" I questioned incredulously.
"Best ever?" Trust that to be the part that he payed attention to.
"Yes," I told him, propping myself up on my elbow so I could lean down and kiss him.
"Better than that first weekend in New York when we-"
"Yes," I repeated, cutting him off.
"But we did it in an elevator," he pointed out, sitting up; "twice," he emphasised. "Remember? The alarm bell was ringing, the security cameras caught the whole thing and all because we couldn't wait another minute to get to the room. You had to stay in a different hotel the next time you visited."
"Yeah, that was a good one," I agreed as the memories flooded back. "But welcome home sex is always best."
"Why?" He asked me.
"Because you're saying hello not goodbye, and you know that it's not the last time you're going to be together."
Anybody spot the Dirty Dancing reference? Go shirtless-Patrick Swayze hard-ons! This is my first gay sex scene so tell me what you guys think.
