Such crisp, clean writing. I especially liked these two parts:
His mind had wandered, recalling a tongue more attentive, hands fully conversant with the needs of his body. When he finally came, Brian knew it had nothing to do with the beautiful dark-haired man on his knees before him, and he wondered if it would always be so.
Sure, strong hands pushed the brush, making large sweeps of dark blue on a wash of gray. Justin lifted the brush with a triumphant wave, as though he’d laid the final masterstroke, then he brought his right hand down onto the canvas, marking a thin trail along the edge of the wet blue paint with the side of his thumb.