"Bri...an. Please," Justin murmurs in that breathy, urgent, pleading way he has when it's dark and I'm holding him and I'm inside him. I know what he wants, what he needs, and there's no way I can not give it to him. It's what we both want, what we both need at that moment. I feel his warm breath on my shoulder. I hear that throaty moan, almost a purr, against my ear. It fills my mind, my heart, my soul and I know that, no matter what, that sound will be with me forever.

Afterwards, I lie awake and listen to his soft breathing as I hold him in my arms. He would say that we're cuddling or snuggling. I smile at that. I don't cuddle or snuggle. I keep telling myself that, anyway. I've even told him, but he just smiles that smile and I know he's on to me. Again. He knows that I do love and romance and all those other things that I would die, rather than letting others know I did.

He moves slightly, getting closer to me, as if that were possible. He talks in his sleep. Quiet words, mostly unintelligible, but every once in a while, I can make out my name and I wonder what he's dreaming about. Whatever it is, I hope it's a good dream, because that's all he deserves. Good dreams. Not those nightmare dreams. I shiver just thinking about them and tighten my arms around his slim body.

This was a "quiet" night. A night when a lot of words aren't necessary. We do have them every once in a while, you know. Nights when we make love and hold each other. Nights when a sigh means so much more than just a sigh. I love these nights when they happen, but I don't think I would love them all the time. It's those other nights when he's chattering about school or Gus saying his name for the first time or a funny story he heard...those are the nights that are really "us". I'll tell him to be quiet and go to sleep, sounding exasperated at the noise, but, in reality, drinking in every sound, every word, memorizing them for the times when he's not around. He'll tell me "okay" then go off on another tangent, another story, another memory for me to hold. Does he know he does that, I wonder.

I think I can go to sleep now. He's safe in my arms. I touch his hand and his fingers intertwine with mine. His soft breathing hypnotizes me. It's as if we were one. I smile one last smile. Maybe not a last smile, because I have the feeling the smile remains even as I sleep. That's another thing I'll deny to the world. But I can't deny it to myself. Nope, never again.

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