InsaneJournal

Moving Fic: New York State of Mind
Title: New York State of Mind
Prompt: Moving
Author's Note This is not what I started to write for this prompt, but this seems to be what I ended up with. Thanks to alice_springs for the prompt and the challenge.

But I know what I’m needing and I don’t want to waste more time.
~New York State of Mind by Billy Joel~

It’s my first night in the big city and the boxes surround us as I toss him on the bare mattress that will serve as our bed, at least for tonight.

“I can’t believe you’re finally fucking here.” He whispers as I stroke his hair and find myself getting lost in the happiness that is shining like a fucking beacon from his blue eyes.

I push my tongue into my cheek and rub my nose against his. “Well, not quite yet, but I hope to be fucking here shortly, Sunshine.”

He presses his lips to mine, and I try to remember why it took me so long to realize that my life sucked without him.

I think it had something to do with giving the boy the chance to find his wings and fly on his own; a theory I fucking bought hook, line and sinker until a run-in with an abnormal blood test kicked us both in the ass about six months ago.

When Justin left the Pitts behind for the bright lights and welcoming embrace of the New York City art world, I resigned myself to finding some way to reconcile the man I had become after five years of an on-again off-again non-relationship with him, to the supreme asshole I still continued to be to just about everyone but him. In other words, I needed to strike a balance that would allow me to keep my reputation as a heartless bastard intact with Gay Pittsburgh, while continuing to show my love and devotion privately to Justin. Anything less than that would cause him to catch the first flight home, leaving New York and the opportunities it promised him behind in the dust; and that just wasn’t a viable option to me.

Shockingly enough, we quickly found a routine that was acceptable to both of us. I would visit him in his shithole apartment whenever I could, and he would come back to Pittsburgh for major holidays and one random week each year. That week promptly became known to us as our Annual Fuck Fest, and no one, not Deb or Michael or Mother Taylor, ever caught wind of those occasions.

Things went well for the first two years. Justin darkened the doorways of every fucking art gallery to be found, his ability to single-mindedly focus on his goals serving him well in his endeavors, and within eighteen months he had scored a spot in several group shows and one very minor, but well received solo effort. I kept myself busy with nurturing Kinnetik and about six months into Justin’s exodus to the city, I decided to concentrate on landing as many New York City based accounts as possible.

I did this quietly with only Theodore and Cynthia clued in on the outcome I was aiming for. Obviously, opening up Kinnetik NYC was the main goal, but my secondary reason was even more important to me personally.

I needed Kinnetik to be strong enough and diversified enough that I would eventually be able to run it from anywhere in the world. I foresaw a time in the not-so-distant future when Justin would again need more room to spread his wings, and this time his flight could take him anywhere around the globe. I knew his stubborn streak would have him turning down any opportunities that might take him too far from Pittsburgh, so I wanted to have a pre-emptive strike prepared for that eventuality.

Everything was starting to fall into place and I had just put some feelers out to find some fucking fabulous real estate in the city; office space for Kinnetik NYC and a place that Justin and I could call home, when I hit a bump in the road.

After my run in with cancer, I was very diligent in getting regular check-ups as needed. I happened to be very fond of my remaining ball, and Justin would have been on me like a fucking avenging angel if I didn’t follow the doctor’s recommendations. So every few months I let myself be poked and prodded and stabbed. What the hell, it made him happy.

I knew when I heard my doctor’s voice on the answering machine this time that something was wrong. Normally, one of his staff would call, giving me the all clear and reminding me to pay them another visit in six months. The message he left was vague and disquieting; an abnormality in my blood work, requiring me to come back in immediately for another round of tests. It was Thursday and I had plans to spend the weekend with Justin. I scheduled my repeat blood test for the next morning, and hit Justin’s number on my cell phone.

“Hey!” he answered, expecting me to confirm my flight plans for the next day and what I was going to do to his hot little ass when I saw him. Instead, I smoothly told him about a fucking crisis with a BIG client and how I was stuck in fucking Pittsburgh with fucking inept employees who all deserved a pink slip in their next paychecks.

There was dead silence for long enough that I looked at my phone to see if it had dropped the call, but the counter was still counting and I could hear the muffled city sounds in the background along with his breathing.

“Bullshit!” he spat out. “What’s really wrong Brian?”

Shit! He was such a pit bull when provoked. I considered insisting the problem was Kinnetik-related but I knew that after he hung up with me he would just call Theodore or Cynthia and confirm my duplicity.

I sighed in frustration and decided to be a man and not a fucking pussy and let him know about the blood test, when I heard him catch his breath sharply. Fuck!!

“Wait, you had your check-up earlier this week, didn’t you?” I heard the fear rush into his voice and I prayed that a bottle of Beam would drop out of the sky and into my waiting hands before I had to continue this conversation. “They found something, didn’t they?” His tone turned flat and quiet, and now I felt the urge to punch something.

“Justin, it’s nothing. Just a fuck-up in the lab with my blood test. I’m giving more blood tomorrow so they can have someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing run the tests this time.”

“So if it’s nothing, why aren’t you coming to visit this weekend?” See what I mean? A fucking pit bull.

In the end, he came in to see me that weekend, and he stayed until the results from the second set of tests came back the following week. They were normal.

I told him about my plans for Kinnetik NYC, and a place of our own in the city. Fuck-fest came a little earlier than planned this year.

My attention is recaptured as he shifts beneath me, and I push his arms out to his sides and warn him, “Don’t move.” He lets out a soft moan as I release his arms, but I know he’ll be good.

I snake out my tongue and lick my way from his neck to his chest, pausing to suck and lightly tease each nipple. When I move over to his stomach and tongue fuck his navel, his back arches and I see his right hand twitch out of the corner of my eye. I nip his stomach in warning and he settles down, pushing his head back into the pillows while he moans my name.

I feel his hard cock bump up against my cheek and I turn my head to take him teasingly in my mouth. He pumps his hips trying to make me swallow his length, but I hold him down, and pull off, letting him know I want to go slow for now. I lick the pre-cum from his slit and stroke him firmly from root to tip. I can hear the change in his breathing that tells me he’s close, so I back off again, leaving him growling in frustration.

I flip him on his stomach and he tries to rut against the mattress. I thrust two of my fingers in his mouth and he sucks at them eagerly, preparing them to fuck his tight ass. I remove them from his mouth and lean in to suck on his tongue, reaching between the crack of his ass to push into his dry hole with my two wet fingers. He shudders and curses as his orgasm hits and I reach around to catch the warm jets of his seed in my hand.

While he’s still shaking and grunting, I lube up my cock with his come, and push my way deeply inside of him. The remnants of his orgasm have his muscles clenching hotly around me and I fuck him hard and fast, feeling my control slip away as he whispers all the kinky things he wants me to do with him in our new home.

I slide off to his side, keeping us joined as long as I can because Justin loves to have my cock in his ass, and he turns his head to face me. I kiss his flushed face and we stare at each other for a moment before we both start to laugh.

“Jesus, this place is a fucking mess.” I complain, waving my hand in the general direction of the moving debris that’s everywhere. He strokes my cheek and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Brian, we’re a fucking mess. We stink like sweat…and sex.” He wrinkles his nose and rolls over to the side of the bed. “Did we even unpack any soap or shampoo yet?”

I frown at him and mock him gently. “After all these years, you are still just a fucking princess, aren’t you?”

I point him in the direction of a box marked Bathroom Supplies and slap him on the ass as he walks by. He leers at me over his shoulder as he heads into the bathroom, and I follow close behind.

We’ve got a shitload of things to do, and fucking him on every piece of furniture in every room of our rather large apartment is first on my list.