Finding Your Own Way Back

Chapter 4

Justin wasn’t sure if it was the erection digging into his hip that woke him up or the alarm clock. Either way, Brian flung an arm across him to smack the alarm clock off and it clanged off the bedside table. Groaning, Brian flung an arm across his eyes. Too fucking early to be alive, he thought. Justin rolled so that he straddled Brian.

Hazel eyes slowly slid open, narrowly gazing at the blond. “Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep. What a beautiful morning. “Morning Sunshine.” So it was cheesy but Brian was entitled. Brian kissed him and said, “Did I thank you for fisting me last night?”

Justin blushed. “Um. No.”

Brian laughed. “After everything we’ve done that makes you blush.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not something we usually do. It’s usually straight-forward fucking with us.” Or role-playing or mild BDSM.

“I like it on occasion,” Brian admitted, “but I don’t want to add it to our repertoire. You got me in a weak moment. I’m not usually open to more than one or two fingers up my ass.”

He loped his arms around Justin, pulling him nearer, dicks sliding against one another. His eyes popped open and he said, mischievously, “You up for a high-protein breakfast?”

Since that was something Ethan had rarely wanted to do, Justin nodded. Brian sighed, saying, “You want to do breakfast with the guys?” He wasn’t in any particular rush to see Michael. Not after the stunt he’d pulled the night before. Since when was Brian’s sexual activity any business of his anyway?

“Not really,” Justin said, raising his head off Brian’s chest so he could meet his eyes directly. God, the man looked like a fallen angel, tousled and sleepy. Sex incarnated.

Brian shifted. “I don’t have much here. You want to do grocery-shopping and then just spend the day together?” Wasn’t as if he was in any hurry to spend the weekend working at the office like he’d intended. Not when he had a very sexy blond back in his bed.

“I have to go to Daphne’s sometime today to pick up clothes.” He knew his best friend would want the inside scoop and all the dirt. She had a very healthy interest in his sex life with Brian, though she’d never inquired about the facts with Ethan. Curious that.

Brian smirked. Kids, he thought. “Here I thought you’d spend the entire time naked in bed with me.” Sounds like a great plan to me: fucking and sleeping and fucking.

Justin kissed him again. “I do but I’m not wearing the same outfit twice.”

My influence, he thought. “Fine. Haven’t seen my favorite girl in a while.” Besides it’ll give me a chance to see where you live. Has to be better than the roach-infested studio you shared with the fucking fiddler and that sad and scary excuse for a cat. Maneuvering into a seated position, he asked, with a leer, “You gonna join me in the shower? Or do I have to take care of this on my own?” he indicated his growing erection.

Like he even needs to ask. “Yeah,” Justin said.

“I must smell like cum,” Brian said, noticing that Justin’s eyes became bluer as he spoke.

“Yeah,” he said. And it hit Brian that the tone he’d used was the same one when he’d been riding in a car for more than eight hours without a shower. He saw Justin in a new light.

As for Justin, he simply needed to feel connected. He followed Brian into the bathroom, admiring the man’s physique. Brian stopped to piss and Justin followed suit, Brian smirking at the action.

He slid the glass door of the shower open, waiting for Justin to join him. He adjusted the water temperature till it was hot enough for him but not hot enough to scald Justin’s fairer skin. He picked up the bottle of imported cucumber melon bath gel and squirted some onto a bath sponge. He kissed Justin’s shoulder, nibbling gently at the spot where shoulder met neck. He ran the sponge down Justin’s back as Justin leaned forward into the shower wall. Reaching for the ever-present tube of lube (though he hadn’t had much occasion to use it when they were apart because no trick ever lasted till morning); he made sure his finger was well lubricated. He eased Justin’s legs apart with his knee, and gently ran his finger over Justin’s hole. He gently pushed the finger in. Justin gasped as he felt Brian’s finger curl upwards toward the top of his hole. He couldn’t help wishing it was Brian’s tongue instead. Or better yet his dick. Whoever said the best things are yet to come had not experienced sex with Brian Kinney.

“Brian,” he moaned as he felt Brian ease the finger out even as his ass muscles clenched trying to keep it inside.

“Do you want me to fuck you, little boy? Fuck you with my nine-and-a half inch dick. Come inside your tight little ass?” Brian taunted, giving his dick an idle stroke, feeling it grow even harder as if he’d been injected with liquid steel. Need coursed through him. The need to possess Justin. The need to make him his once again.

“Yes,” Justin said, pushing back against Brian. Brian turned him in his arms so that they faced one another. Brian held a foil packet out to him.

“Slide it on me. Slide it on my dick.”

Eagerly complying, Justin was startled when Brian roughly kissed him, and then turned him to face the wall again. It was such a familiar position and one he found he’d missed. There was something incredibly intimate, something innately Brian-and-Justin, about fucking in the shower. But his thoughts were cut off as Brian began to slowly push in, his hole widening to accept the much bigger intruder than he’d been using during the time he’d spent flying solo. “You’re so fucking tight,” Brian ground out, as he thrust. The fingers of his left hand were intertwined with Justin’s. His right hand found Justin’s dick, stroking the shaft in rhythm with the in-and-out motion of his strokes. He pulled almost all the way out then back in, in a punishing rhythm that had Justin gasping. Justin bucked back against him, wanting more of Brian. Faster and deeper. Pistoning his hips forward, Brian hit Justin’s prostate even as he nibbled the sensitive spot behind Justin’s ear. Mouth hot against his ear, he said, “Do you want me to bring you off first?”

“No,” Justin said. “Fuck me, Brian. Fuck me! Oh god, fuck me!” Then said nothing as Brian hit his prostate again. Closing his eyes, he saw the dancing minefield of stars behind his eyelids. It was something that only happened when he was with Brian. That connection that only he and Brian shared. It was something that neither of them experienced with any other party. Brian tugged his shaft until his balls emptied, catching some of his spunk in his hand, even as most of it washed down the drain.

Brian pulled out, tossing the condom aside. He turned Justin to face him. He saw Brian’s eyes had bled dark and he kissed him. As they parted, Brian nipped Justin’s lip.

“Christ,” Brian said. More a prayer than an oath. “That was fucking hot. You’re such a dirty little boy.”

Justin stared at him. “Um, Brian, you’ve just washed me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

And the meaning behind his words became apparent. Brian detached the shower massage head and Justin bent over as Brian pressed the lukewarm water up against his hole, letting it fill him. “Oh, God, Brian.”

“Sunshine, are you telling me the violin player never did this?”

“Uh uh.” Why are you asking about Ethan now? Justin thought.

Fucking fool. Ignorant fucking fool. He should be ashamed of himself, Brian thought. “Enough?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” Justin said, as he let himself be cleansed out.

Brian stared at him. “You okay?” he asked.

Since he could barely speak, Justin simply nodded. He agreed. There was something almost tentative in Brian’s gaze as he looked down at his once and future lover. The look faded quickly and he thought there was something familiar about it but he couldn’t place it. He was surprised to hear the water cut off. He hadn’t even noticed it had grown cold.

Brian chuckled bemusedly at his expression. He handed him a towel, wrapping his own around his waist. Beads of water pooled on Justin’s chest and lower abdomen. He stared at him for a moment, lost in a memory of the first time they’d stood like this. But this time there was no Michael hurrying things along. They were alone. Thank God for small favors, Brian thought.

“Brian.”

Returning to the present, he smiled. He could be forgiven a distraction when a wet and nearly naked Justin stood before him. “Yeah, Sunshine.”

He was very curious as to what exactly Brian had planned for the day. It had been a long time since he’d just hung out with the man. A very long time, he admitted. “You got any ideas as to what I’m going to wear?”

Brian laughed at his serious expression. Justin glared. “Not funny, Brian. I’m serious,” he said, following him into the bedroom. Going to the closet, he pulled out a snug black t-shirt. Justin looked at the garment then at him. Way too small for Brian to wear, he thought. At least now.

“When did you ever wear this?”

“Long time ago,” Brian said. “I might have a pair of your drawstring pants around here somewhere.” He started towards the dresser then felt Justin’s hand on his arm. “What, Sonny Boy?”

“I’m just surprised. I thought you’d have tossed anything of mine out or taken it down to the incinerator.”

He’d been tempted but, on some level, he’d always hoped that Justin would come back to him. That, like Lassie, he’d find his own way home. It had simply taken a bit longer than he’d have hoped. He shrugged, growing uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He wasn’t about to admit just how much their break-up had hurt him, how he’d felt torn asunder. He avoided Justin’s eyes, finding the pants at the back of a drawer. Getting that he was steering into dangerous waters, he backed off. He figured that asking about underwear was too much to expect when Brian tossed him a pair. Justin’s eyebrows arched.

“You could just go commando, if you prefer. I am. I’m hungry,” Brian said, pulling on a pair of jeans over naked skin. He then reached for a black wife-beater. Casual chic for him.

“You’re hungry,” Justin asked incredulously as he donned the clothes.

“Sex makes me hungry.”

“Uh huh,” he didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Sex makes you sleepy. Sex makes you horny. Since when has sex made you hungry?”

“Since now,” Brian snarked with a smirk. He sat down on the side of the bed, zipping up his Prada boots.

“C’mon, Sunshine,” he said, glancing around for his wallet and keys.

“On the kitchen counter,” Justin answered, reading Brian’s mind. That, on occasion, could be a very scary talent.

“Thanks.”

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