Title: Something to Be Said

Author: florida_minxie

A/N: Huge thanks to my beta, vl_redreign



There's something to be said for snowstorms. And, as far as I'm concerned, not one bit of it is good.

At least not until I come home from work, cold and wet, frustrated from the drive, and find Justin in the middle of the bed, propped up on pillows and naked, his legs splayed wide and his feet flat against the mattress.

I stand at the foot of the steps, watching as Justin slowly works one hand — the right one, calloused from drawing and painting — up and down his cock as he pushes fingers from the other one — three fingers, good Christ — in and out of his ass.

Justin looks up and I struggle, struggle, to keep from gasping. His pupils are blown, eyes glassy and damn near black, and his mouth is open, his tongue darting out over his lips as he pants in time with each stroke of his cock. Then he drops his head back, exposes the pale column of his neck, and moans. A deep, guttural sound that bridges the gap between begging and offering, a plea and a promise unspoken.

And, fucking hell, I can't get out of my clothes fast enough. I have to get to him, slide between his legs, touch him, feel him…own him. The trail of clothing, the tossed aside Armani proves it.

"Justin."

His name falls out before I can stop it. The sound is needy and wanton and way too telling of his place in my life. My fingers shake as I rip the condom open, because, goddammit, I want to be inside him. Right fucking now.

Trailing a finger down Justin's arm, tracing lightly, slight little butterfly touches, over the knuckles so close to his hole, I growl, "Take 'em out."

His fingers are barely free of his ass when I grab Justin's hips, draw him off the pillows and onto my cock. One steady, fucking motion and I'm in, balls pressed against his ass, dick encased in his tight heat.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

There is no way I'm gonna last. None what-so-fucking-ever.

Justin moans, cants his hips higher, and, yes, I slide even deeper into his ass.

His eyes flutter shut, and his back bows, arching in an obvious bid for more. "Fuck, Brian."

That is the plan. Fucking. Lots and lots of fucking.

I roll my hips, start a slow cadence of push and then pull, thrust and retreat. The easy pace, the fucking build-up alone…

"Brian!" Justin opens his eyes, pins me with a demanding stare. "Harder, dammit."

Jesus. The leisurely rhythm is shattered, blown apart with a single word. Harder.

Slipping an arm behind each of his knees, I push my weight forward, fold him damn near in double, and, grunting, I snap my hips, driving into him hard and rough.

Sweat pools between my shoulders, rolls over my brow and down my cheek, slicking my skin, Justin's skin, as we move together, dancing, fighting, fucking.

"Oh, shit…" And Justin's ass clenches around me, tightens to just this side of painful as his come streaks his stomach.

One… two… three more pumps of my hips, of delving in and burying myself in him and I explode, filling the condom with a long drawn out sigh. "Christ."

Outside the wind howls, ice pings against the windows, and, for a moment, the power blinks, plunging us into darkness. The sound of our panting, harsh and heavy, fills the air, seems to echo through the loft, blotting out everything but the two of us.

The lights flicker on, dimmer, running on the building's generator, and the world comes back into focus.

"S'posed to last for a while." Justin traces a finger through the come and sweat on his stomach. "They think the city will be down for at least three days."

My lips quirk. Being trapped with Justin with absolutely no chance of outside interference has definite possibilities. Pulling him closer, I murmur, "There's something to be said for snowstorms."


< /porn >