The air was heavy, oppressive. Why the fuck had I said that? It was bad enough that I had such lesbianic thoughts at all. Fucking Hallmark bullshit. In general, yes. But…with Justin, it was just true. Everything was different when it was him and me. Course, I still shouldn't have told him. That was a mistake I had been making with increasing frequency. Telling him things I should keep to myself. I had already told him that I loved him. That I thought I always would. I had also made it clear that his low opinion of me, particularly of my former sexual habits, bothered me. A lot.

Justin stepped closer. I instinctively stepped back. He was already too close (in every sense of the word). Justin noticed, of course, and froze, but then moved forward once more. To diffuse some of my discomfort (and to try to explain away my flinching), I attempted a joke: "I swear to God, if you start looking for alien chips…"

Justin didn't even smile. He just stared at me with an intense look in his eyes. His eyes on me, dark and determined, was disconcerting.

Then his hands were on me, running up my chest, over my shoulders, along my neck, down my back, over my ass (as prelude to sliding to his knees, he had stripped me naked). As he touched me, he stared into my eyes, with that same intense look. I had no clue whether it was his eyes or his hands on me, or both, but I trembled a little and suddenly had difficulty breathing.

When Justin whispered huskily, "You're so beautiful," (I'm ashamed to say) my chest constricted, and I felt like I had gotten the wind knocked out of me, to be replaced with tears. They welled up in my chest and nearly poured out of me. I just barely managed to blink them away, but my eyes were probably glistening. I looked down. I had little pride left; few of my feelings remained hidden. But still, I needed to preserve (to try to preserve) some of my dignity, to prevent Justin from seeing just how deeply in love I was with him, how much I needed him to find me…beautiful. At that moment, I despised myself. I knew Justin loved me; I knew he always would, but…maybe not the way I loved him. I couldn't bring myself to believe it, to trust. It was too good to be true.

Justin lifted my chin with one finger, his chest heaving, I couldn't imagine from what. I wouldn't let myself imagine. He whispered, "I love you, Brian. Always, only you." His eyes glistened. I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes tight, still fighting back tears of my own. Suddenly, he was kissing me. He rubbed his lips against mine softly, slowly and then thrust his tongue into my mouth. He slid his hands up to my neck and pulled me closer, kissed me more deeply. And I kissed him back. With a desperation I had never yet felt. My body was thrumming with heat and electricity, but it ached, too. As though I'd held my muscles taut for too long. When Justin moved his hands from my neck and down my back, holding me in his arms, I finally relaxed. I slid my hands around him, one around his waist, one around his neck, pulling us closer together and kissing him even more desperately while also rubbing up against him. Then I started tugging on his clothes. I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulled them down, and, as he kicked them off, drew his shirt up. We broke apart just long enough for me to pull his shirt over his head and then were kissing again, just as passionately as though there had been no interruption. Finally I tugged his underwear down and finally, finally, I could feel his skin on my skin. I touched him everywhere, my hands eagerly roaming his naked form, relishing in the combination of firm, tight muscles and soft skin. Even his body hair was soft. I moaned low in my throat and then broke our kiss. I started licking, sucking, and biting his neck, his nipples, his chest in a trail downward. I was desperate to have his dick in my mouth.

Justin, finally breaching enough of the haze our kissing and rubbing had caused to realize what I was doing, started to protest, but when my lips were firmly wrapped around his cock, he could no longer form words. He simply let out a guttural moan, and, without even thinking, he thrust his cock deeper into my mouth and down my throat. Then when I swallowed around his cock, he threaded his fingers into my hair and cried out, "Oh fuck! Oh God! Oh Brian!" I slid my hands up to Justin's ass and squeezed it even as I pulled him closer, sucking and swallowing desperately. I had never needed to taste him so much. Then he was cumming, so hard that he nearly lost consciousness. I had to hold him up even as I swallowed. Then I was standing and pulling him into my arms. He went limp, burying his head in my chest. I picked him up and carried him to my bed. A moment later, we were snuggling under my duvet. I hated how much I was enjoying it. I didn't even care that my dick was so hard it hurt.

After a few minutes, I said, "You need to find out. About your mom and your sister."

Justin sighed heavily. In a whisper, he replied, "I know." Then he looked up at me, guilt and fear in his eyes. Hesitantly, he asked, "Will you…?"

The look in his eyes just then would have knocked me over if I had been standing. Justin needed me. Maybe…maybe as much as I needed him. I tried to make my voice sound light, but I don't know whether I succeeded. "Of course. Have I ever let you down?"

Nothing could have prepared me for his firm, slightly awed, "No. Never."

I was so fucked.