A Simple Kiss of Faith

Brian's POV: The airport is awash of business travelers, noisy tired children and families awaiting their loved ones. I too, am awaiting a loved one, although I have never admitted it. Never said it out loud. Too afraid of revealing my feelings, my weakness, my faults; never the ability to say the words out loud. Always hoping my actions would say it for me, and in some small way, they have. In his short life he has accomplished so many wonderful things, the least of which is allowing me the honor of being his partner. My partner; a partnership born of sex, lust and need, grown into a friendship, companionship, mutual respect and love. The most stubborn asshole of Liberty has met his match in the number one tenacious twat of Liberty. We've both been working hard these past several months. Buried ourselves in career, perfecting craft and copy; proving ourselves, finding ourselves. Fooling my self into believing I could survive with out him, live with out him. With out his touch, his lips, his scent, his body, his beautiful smile, and his love. I did survive but not lived. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, true. Out of sight, out of mind, never. I've mangled this magazine in my hands, something I bought to pass the time while waiting for his plane to land. Skimming through senseless articles, doodling on the ads. One article did catch my eye only because it was about kissing. Kissing...those full ripe lips, tasting his sweet mouth. His kiss that holds promises of so much more and yet it's all there in his kiss. Kissing, the article tried to define kissing. Never before did I value the importance of a kiss. It was always sucking face, an exchange of spit, something nice to do for a trick. I have him to blame, thank, for my change of philosophy. Our kisses are too important, too personal to waste on any other. So which kiss do I use to greet him after so many months. When we're home alone I will kiss all of him from the top of his beautiful blond head to the tips of his cute toes, and everywhere in between. But our first kiss when he steps off that plane. "Kiss on the mouth=I love you." Oh yeah. "Kiss on the ear=I can't live without you." How true. "Kiss on the neck=I want you." You said a mouthful! "Kiss on the cheek=Let's be friends." Fuck, no! "Kiss on the hair=I want more." More and more and more, can't get enough. "Kiss on the forehead=I'm faithful to you." Ha! "Kiss on the hand=Everything's over already." Never, we're just beginning. I enjoy kissing his hand, his palm and fingers, kiss away the pain and cramps he still experiences. And those lips, how I want those lips and his... Huh?! What?! An announcement, his plane. TOUCH DOWN! A few more minutes. There he is, at the gate with that sunshine smile at full output. I shove the magazine in my back pocket as I wait till he clears the gate. We stand staring for the briefest of seconds, not really believing we're finally face to face. Close enough to touch, to smell, taste and kiss. He puts down his messenger bag and jacket and we hug. Hanging on in a crushing embrace. I step back to look into the blue pools of his eyes, scanning his face for any visible signs of change. I cup his chin with one hand and trace the path of a tear with the other. Inhaling his scent, his cologne, shampoo and the unique scent of this man-child. I hold his face close to mine then kiss his forehead. My silent promise, my failing or my triumph. A flash of confusion then recognition and he returns the same kiss. Straining on the tips of his toes, bending my neck downwards. He kisses my forehead. We say nothing as I gather his belongings and we walk to the baggage claim, grabbing a cart to pile months of his clothes and gifts on to it. We leave the terminal to my car. Cramming his stuff into the ‘vette, something falls out of his jacket pocket. Simultaneously reaching, we lightly bump heads, giggling as we stand, rubbing our invisible injuries. I look down as I hand the magazine to Justin only to realize it's the same issue as the one in my back pocket. I pull out my copy and blush; yes, blush at my admission. A second tear descends and he kisses it away. The words aren't necessary; our kisses have said it all.

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