|sanami276 (ohfreckle) wrote in qaf_giftxchnge,|
@ 2008-12-27 16:08:00
|Entry tags:||december 2008|
Title: The Proper Way To Say Goodbye
Request: h/c (nc17) injured Brian and caretaker!Justin. Season 4 gapfiller for collarbone fracture.
Justin shook his head at he curses emanating from the direction of Brian's closet. After a particularly pathetic sounding sigh Justin rolled his eyes, put the computer to sleep and headed to the bedroom. Brian wouldn't ask for help, but he would moan and curse in an overly dramatic fashion until Justin took pity on him and demanded Brian let him help.
"What are you doing?"
"You are dressed."
"I can't go out wearing this."
"Good, then stay home."
"I'm injured, not dead. And it's minor, I rode for hours this way. I'm sure I can handle a few hours at Baby...ahh ow, Fuck!"
Since Justin was still feeling bad about turning down a permanent place in Brian's home in favor of LA he decided to help the man do what he felt he needed to do to salvage his pride, rather than point out how utterly pathetic he was being. Or the fact that he couldn't dance, even when had full use of both arms, much less when one was strapped against his chest. And fucking was definitely not going to be an option. Although, as long as the trick undid his pants for him, he probably could handle a blow job just fine.
Justin reached out and began undoing his cufflinks.
"What are you doing? I can do that myself, fuck you very much."
"I'm helping. Real men know when they need to take help. So which one of your 119 black shirts do you want to wear?"
Brian's lips pressed together, slightly rolling inside his mouth as he looked at Justin with affection for the briefest of moments before recalling his earlier look of annoyance back to his features. He held out his good arm for easier access without further comment.
Eyes closed, head tilted back, arms raised overhead and sweat dripping down his back Justin moved to the beat. He always felt so alive on the dance floor at Babylon. So free. So at home. He wondered if it would feel that way at the clubs in LA. His eyes opened and the first thing that came into sharp focus was Brian. It was always Brian.
Brian wasn't looking at him though, he was looking at tall dark and handsome 20 feet away and closing in fast. Justin watched long enough to see Brian's right hand slide into the waist band of the trick's pants and pull him towards the backroom. He closed his eyes again, soft smile on his lips as his hand snaked back and pulled the guy he was dancing with closer and whispered into his ear. A minute later he was leaning against a wall in the backroom, the guy from the dance floor was on his knees, and when he turned his head to the right, Brian was safely in his line of sight.
If he was in pain, Brian masked it well. Justin did the math and figured it had been at least 6 hours since Brian's last Percocet. But god knows what else he'd had since arriving. Still... Justin let the trick finish him off quickly when he realized Brian was doing the same. Point now proven Justin figured it was safe to move in.
Brian smiled at him. And the trick complied with Justin's request. Justin leaned in and kissed him as Brian tucked himself back inside his pants. He fumbled with the buttons one-handed until he felt Justin's come up to his fly.
"Need some help?" Justin whispered in his ear.
Brian grimaced but nodded slightly.
Brian dropped down onto the nearest chair with a grunt.
"Kill me now."
"How about if I just get you some more Percocet?"
Justin handed him the pills and a bottle of water. He sat down across from Brian and watched him down the pills. The silence between them was suddenly heavy.
"I can't even send you off properly. Broken collarbones are just not conducive to fucking."
"You'll have to come visit me when you've healed."
Brian just shrugged non-commitally. "Kinnetik is busier than ever. I doubt I'll have time for a trans-continental booty-call."
Justin bit his lip, then stood up and moved in front of him and straddled his lap. Careful not to press against his arm, he leaned in till their foreheads were touching. "I bet we could figure out a way to manage a proper send off."
Brian leaned back slightly and raised his eyebrow.
Justin ground his ass against his lap and his rapidly hardening cock in response. In the process he jostled Brian's arm. So lightly he didn't even realize it until he heard the sharp in-take of breath and saw the wince.
"Or maybe not."
He stilled on Brian's lap and they both fell back into silence until, "Stand up."
Justin obeyed. Brian stood too, with a soft groan. Justin opened his mouth to suggest going to bed but bit the words back when Brian reached out and grabbed his shoulder. He guided him backwards until Justin felt the back of the couch press against his ass. Brian pressed on his shoulder until Justin got the hint and leaned his weight back against the couch. Then Brian took a step back.
"Take off your shirt."
"Take out your cock."
Justin raised an eyebrow, but the husky and softly demanding tone of Brian's voice went straight to his dick and he gladly obliged. He undid his pants and pushed them down over his hips, letting them fall to floor and then kicking them aside. He left his briefs on, and leaned back against the couch again, rubbing his cock through the black material before reaching inside the waist-band and pulling it out.
"Stroke it," Brian commanded unnecessarily. His own hand now on his fly, deftly unbuttoning himself with one hand. His hand glided up and down his hard-on and he raised his eye up watching Justin as his tongue slowly licked his lower lip and his skin flushed as he watched Brian jerking himself off and kept his own hand moving steadily up and down his length. Slowly his eyes traveled upwards till they met Brian's.
Justin's hand stilled.
"Take them off."
He slid his underwear down and off, kicking them towards his abandoned pants.
He soaked in the expression on Brian's face for a few more seconds before turning away and bracing himself against the couch.
When Brian's lips started gliding across his shoulder blade they were so soft it took Justin a moment to register their presence on his skin. As they ghosted up the back of his neck he shivered. When his teeth gently bit his ear he moaned quietly. It felt so good and yet was nowhere near enough. Brian ran his right hand up his back and then back down. His finger tips tracing down until they rested between Justin's legs and stroked the skin behind his balls.
Justin groaned and bent further forward, pressing his ass back into Brian and silently urging his fingers exactly where he wanted. Moaning loudly when they finally got there. They pressed lightly against his hole as Brian's tongue wandered lazily along his spine, but they didn't push in and Brian's slow pace was making him insane.
Brian smiled against his back, pulled his hand away much to Justin's displeasure until he felt Brian press a packet of lube against his hand and felt him pull back enough for Justin to straighten up.
Justin quickly opened the packet and coated Brian's waiting fingers. A second later and they were pressing inside of him.
"Yes. Yes. Yes." He could hear himself involuntarily chant as he pushed back against them. All too soon they were removed and his grunt of protest was cut short by the tearing sound of the condom wrapper.
Brian's cock pressed against his hole and Justin pushed back against it, moaning loudly as he moved inside of him in one fast push. Time stood still for a moment as Brian filled him. And then it seemed to speed up as his hand clutched Justin's shoulder simultaneously bending him further over the back of the couch and using his grip to steady himself while moved in and out of Justin.
It was fast and a bit clumsy. But it was so good. And it was Brian. And it was home in all the ways that mattered, even if he was missing his chance to make that official. And Justin's come was probably staining the couch but neither of them cared as they both came amid a chorus of grunts and moans from both of their throats.
Brian sat on the edge of the bed in his shirt, arm still strapped against his chest watching as Justin pulled off his own socks and then dropped down to his knees and pulled off Brian's.
Justin just smiled then reached up and unfastened the sling. He set it aside and gently eased Brian's shirt off of him while Brian bit his lip and pretended like it didn't hurt like hell. When Justin started to help him put a t-shirt on he stopped him.
"I can help you."
"I can do it myself."
"I know you can but you don't have to move it as much if I help."
"After tomorrow that won't be an option."
"I can stay another week."
"Don't be a twat. You aren't staying here just to help me get dressed. You are getting on a plane tomorrow. Going to LA. And going to be a big, fat, fucking success."
He picked up the sling and reattached it over the t-shirt. "See I can do it all by myself."
For the briefest of moments Justin thought, "What if I can't?"
Brian's forehead pressed against his, "Don't be a twat." He repeated, or answered the unspoken thought. Why he said it, Justin wasn't sure. Either way it didn't matter. He had no plans to be a twat. He already had plans to be the best homosexual he could be.