Justin's POV

Brian kissed me lightly on the lips but then tilted my head and thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. He pulled me against him roughly with one hand, leaving his other on the back of my neck. I threw my arms around him, my hands in his hair, and I pulled his head down. Every millimeter of space between us hurt. I rubbed my body against his, the contact setting me on fire. I needed to feel his skin against mine, I needed to kiss and touch him everywhere, I needed him inside me, filling me...I just needed...

I pulled back a little, moaning his name and removing his leather jacket. But as soon as it hit the floor, Brian sent his lips crashing back down onto mine. I slipped my hands underneath his black wife beater and slowly inched my hands upward, feeling every muscle. Desperate for direct contact, I started pulling his shirt off, but apparently, not quickly enough for Brian. He ripped his shirt and mine off in seconds. I broke the kiss and began nuzzling his neck as I rubbed my chest against his. Then I started sliding downward, our skin not losing contact until I was on my knees. I unbuttoned his jeans and started to remove them. Again, too slow. Brian pulled them down in one motion and sent them careening across the floor.

I caressed his legs and then starting laying feather kisses on his thighs as my head moved upward. Brian trembled slightly, reached one arm out to steady himself on the nearest vertical beam, and moved the other down to my head, threading his fingers into my hair. I licked the head of his cock and then drew it into my mouth, sucking gently, as I softly caressed his balls. Then I gripped them firmly with both hands and took his cock deeper into my mouth, licking the underside as I pulled back. In response, Brian gripped my hair more tightly and moaned, "Justin." My cock had already hardened, making my jeans almost unbearably tight, but hearing him call out my name that way nearly pushed me over the edge. I took him deep...the head of his cock in my throat and swallowed. He groaned and placed his other hand in my hair.

Brian started fucking my mouth. I relaxed my throat and swallowed every time his cock was completely buried inside me. Suddenly, he stopped moving. He cupped my face and gently tilted it upward, as he looked down at me. When our eyes met, he breathed, "Justin" and gazed at me, his half-lidded eyes dark with such intense desire that I nearly came. He started fucking my mouth again, and, a few seconds later, he half-shouted, half-growled, "Fuck!" and came, pouring into my mouth. I continued to suck his cock until the aftershocks subsided.

Brian pulled me to a standing position, cupped my face, and kissed me, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth. He lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around him, and he carried me to the bed, our mouths never breaking contact. Once there, he set me down. I lay on the bed and pulled him down on top of me. I kissed him hard and then whispered into his ear, "Fuck me." In response, he unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them off. He growled, "Turn over." I flipped onto my stomach. He leaned over me, nuzzled my neck, and inhaled deeply. Then he slowly ran his hand down my back. He raised me up onto my knees and licked my back, from my neck down to my ass. He licked around my opening, and I let out a deep moan. That seemed to inspire him, as he continued to do so, but with more urgency and then pushed his tongue inside me. I arched my back and cried out, "Brian, I need you inside me NOW!" He replaced his tongue with one finger and then added a second and a third. I pushed back onto them and groaned as they grazed my prostate.

Suddenly, Brian flipped me over onto my back, placing my legs on his shoulders. He took a condom from the nightstand drawer and ripped it open with his teeth, but I grabbed it and slid it onto his cock. As I did, he moaned. Both of us too impatient for lube, Brian moved my legs higher onto his shoulders and entered me slowly, inch by inch. When his cock was completely buried inside me, he started moving it in and out faster, pumping me with a steady rhythm. Then he angled his hips so that he was thrusting shallowly inside me, hitting my prostate on every thrust. I moaned low in my throat and covered my face with my arms. He growled, "Don't hide" and grabbed my wrists, shoving them down on the bed beside me. Then he leaned down and kissed me roughly. The rhythm of his thrusts quickened, and he took my cock, throbbing and leaking, into his hand. He ran a finger over my slit as he squeezed my shaft, eliciting a low whimper from me, and then started stroking me in time with his thrusts. I threaded my fingers into his hair and brought his lips crashing down onto mine, kissing him hard. Then I broke away and moaned, "Fuck, oh fuck, Brian!" Faster and faster, he thrust inside me and stroked my cock until I exploded, my vision disappearing in a flash of white light.

Brian collapsed onto me with a deep animal moan, his breath ragged. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath. Then he drew up a little, his head still resting on my chest but looking up at me. He smoothed my hair back and gently stroked my cheeks, sadness clearly written in his eyes.

He said, "I missed you."

It took everything I had not to cry. "I missed you, too, Brian."

He pulled out, tossed the condom into the trash bin beside the nightstand, and crawled next to me. Then he kissed my neck gently, gathered me into his arms, and fell asleep.

I stayed awake for a long time listening to Brian breathe. We had not been apart long, but it felt like forever. Even before I left, I'd felt a widening distance between us. His kissing me, calling out my name, filling me up, and telling me he missed me had closed some of that distance, but I still felt so empty. I rolled over and buried my face in his chest. Unconsciously, Brian's arms tightened around me. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. Would he push me further away? I had killed his pride when I left the Rage party with Ethan. I had no idea how to fix what I had broken. Taking a deep breath, I made a silent promise to myself. Whatever happened, however much Brian tried to push me away, I would keep holding on to him, to us. If he lashed out, I would simply remember everything I'd been told that night. Whether or not he could say it or even show it sometimes, I knew he loved me. He was my Brian. The Brian who had bought my first drawing of him, cherishing it, who had danced with me at my prom, who had watched me sleep every night for a month while I was in the hospital, who had publicly humiliated the judge that let Chris Hobbs walk, and who had even considered giving me roses for my birthday, what Lindsay had said I needed. He was my Brian, and he loved me.