qaf_drabbles [britin1729]

The scarf. I recalled something about a scarf...out by the jeep, I remembered Brian wrapping it around my neck, playing and smiling.

Now, the dark reddish-brown stains stood out against the silky white material. It felt like a stab directly through the heart when I slowly began to remove his shirt, and there it was.

I slid it from around his neck, let it drop. It was time for him to let it go. Time for both of us to let this go.

That night, under the blue lights, I learned what it really meant to make love. 

qaf_drabbles [britin1729]

My entire life, I'd sworn relationships were for people who didn't mind being fucked over. They could have their stupid ideas of love. I'd gladly just take the fucking part.

Then he came along, of course, and remained absolutely convinced for the longest time that I “loved” him, despite me periodically pointing out that I didn't even believe in it. Naturally, he eventually left. We both got hurt. I'd seen it coming.

So...why exactly was I sitting here, now, with him between my legs and not the fiddle fuck's, bathed in orange instead of blue lights, after he'd returned?

qaf_drabbles [britin1729]

Brian, not one to waste time on nonsensical reflections, would never understand how an individual could be represented by a simple color.

Yet when his eyes fell upon Justin's latest work of art, a swirling mixture of multiple shades of blue...he decided that the color represented the blond perfectly.

His eyes. So deep and filled with far more life experience than they should be, yet still somehow so innocent and true.

Second first times. Both of them bathed in blue lights, fucking sweet and slow and easy.

Clear skies, when the illuminating rays of sunshine lit up the world.