Fiction: In Between Slumber
Title: In Between Slumber
Summary: I wrote this a little while ago, when I couldn't sleep. It doesn't really have a plot. Or a purpose. Other than it reflects the mood I was in. It's set post-S5 and has no beginning or end, really. Just a small scene. Tra la la. Enjoy.
Rating: Adults only
Genre: Fluff
In Between Slumber
Justin traces Brian’s spine, his finger dipping into the skin where Brian’s shoulder blades meet and push together. He doesn’t remember how soft Brian’s skin is, how deep the color is, or how beautiful the small mole above his sixth vertebrae is. This back. He’s sketched this back thousands upon thousands of endless nights, in his mind and on his sketchbook and yet to have it before him... well, it’s unraveling. His fingers whisper against Brian’s skin, caressing and echoing its perfection.
Justin wonders when Brian began to sleep on his side, facing the bathroom instead of him. It makes Justin lonely, as though they aren’t really here, in this oh-so-familiar bed, together.
He turns to glance over his shoulder, his eyes squinting to read the clock. He’s already been in Pennsylvania for ten hours, and yet the loft still doesn’t seem like home. The longer he’s away, the easier it is to become unattached.
“Brian,” Justin whispers. He hardly hears himself, his voice is so quiet. He waits, even though he knows Brian hasn’t heard him. “Brian,” he starts, his voice sounding gruff in his own ears. “I’ve missed you. This sucks.”
Brian stirs and Justin places his hand on Brian’s shoulder, the dim safety light from the bathroom washing a strange shadow down his arm. He lets his fingers dance across that light, waiting to see if Brian wakes.
“You’d like New York, too, if you lived there. With me,” he says after a few of minutes listening to Brian’s heavy, even breathing. Brian’s a textbook sleeper, silent and deep, but Justin can’t get himself to finish his monologue. It’s too depressing. He doesn’t feel like mourning.
Justin leans forward and nuzzles his nose against Brian’s shoulder--nudging him, breathing warmly against Brian’s skin. He wraps his arm around Brian’s hip and pulls himself closer, jutting his pelvic into the small of Brian’s back, molding himself to Brian’s larger frame. He brings his other hand to Brian’s head and plays with the hair, fanning it across the pillow, softening it against the fabric of the pillowcase. Like always, Brian’s hair follows Justin’s movements. They joke about it, about the static response. Brian thinks it has something to do with the chemical reaction between his shampoo and Justin’s lotion, and although he’s probably right, Justin likes to pretend that they simply have an electrifying connection.
“Like lightening,” he says when he’s in a particularly poetic mood.
Brian moans softly, his acknowledgment to Justin’s wakefulness. His hand tenderly cups Justin’s, his thumb stroking the skin before his breathing slows again and his movements stop. His hand remains.
After years of relishing in small moments like these, Justin doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to accept an unassuming, sleepy touch from Brian without his heart exploding into a rapid pulse. He grins, his face pressing against Brian’s back, his mouth releasing a warm huff of air.
“Nghmm?”
Justin smiles, glad for Brian’s semi-lucid state of being. “Nnn,” he responds, shrugging.
The room’s silent again, but Justin knows Brian hasn’t gone back to sleep. His breathing is shallow and quick and his thumb beings to caress the back of Justin’s hand again.
“Hmm?”
Justin removes his hand from Brian’s arm and pushes at Brian’s chest, a gesture which Brian recognizes because, moments later, he’s moving onto his back, his arm stretching underneath Justin’s neck.
“You awake?” Justin asks, his voice sounding much louder than he intends and he cringes.
Brian smiles, secretly relishing the interruption from his sleep for this. “Am now.”
“Sorry.” But Justin’s face shows no remorse. His fingers tickle across Brian’s chest.
“Sure you are. You can’t sleep, so obviously, I’m not allowed to sleep. I don’t see the fairness in that.” Brian’s voice croaks toward the end as he attempts to stifle a small yawn.
Justin slides his body over until he’s halfway lying on Brian, wrapping his legs around one of Brian’s, entwining himself in place. “Life’s not fair,” he whines teasingly.
“You can say that again,” Brian huffs into Justin’s hair.
Justin doesn’t respond, but instead, tightens his arms around Brian’s body. Justin hates their sleepy time conversations--the emotions are always edgy, always willing to break.
Brian takes a deep breath, inhaling Justin’s scent before saying, “Wish you were here.”
“Am.”
“I mean, next week. Next month. After.”
Justin nods into Brian’s neck, squeezing his eyes together. Better to ignore the loneliness. Especially now. Especially while they’re together. Seems pointless to be lonely.
“New York’s... I Like...”
Brian sighs. “Yeah. I knew you would. The city that never sleeps.”
“Seems like you’d fit right in,” Justin jokes. But at least he’s gotten it out. Even if he’s halfway teasing.
“Subtle, Sunshine,” Brian laughs, using the nickname he hasn’t verbalized in... well, in a very long time because it doesn’t quite fit into his mouth and sounds foreign in his own ears.
Justin glides his hand across Brian’s chest, over and over, stopping only a few times at his nipples. He drags his fingers down Brian’s stomach, still tight, still perfect, landing at the patch of dark hair. “Missed this,” he says, wrapping his fingers gently around Brian.
Brian arches, a movement acknowledging and accepting Justin’s touch. “Mm.”
Justin only looks for a small while. He’s always loved making Brian hard, watching as he grows and the color deepens and the tip weeps its first pearl-drop of lubrication, but after, it’s all about Brian’s face. Justin pulls back, lifting himself on his elbow as his other hand works Brian to a climax.
A hand job is a work of art and Justin isn’t a great artist for no reason.
When Justin was younger, it was about the power. It was about the ability to make Brian Kinney come; to make Brian Kinney cry out from his ministrations. But now, after a few breakups and a few more brushes with death, it’s about the beauty of Brian Kinney coming.
Justin pauses at the tip, brushing his thumb across the slit. That movement always makes Brian gasp, and to hear that sound... Oh, it’s a glorious thing in Justin’s mind. Justin waits for the frown that signifies Brian’s point-of-no-return--the moment when, if Justin were to stop, Brian would probably die from the pain of not being allowed his release. But Justin would never deny him.
And as Brian’s lips turn down, as each breath he takes is punctuated by a small vocalization, Justin falls in love all over again. There is nothing more amazing than Brian Kinney letting himself go. Brian opens his eyes, his lids fluttering as he strains to make eye contact with Justin. Justin squeezes one last time.
There was a time in his life, after the bashing, where Justin was afraid to do this--afraid of skin on skin contact. As he brings his hand to his mouth, his tongue sliding out to collect Brian’s come, he’s more than a little grateful that his fears have dissipated.
Brian watches, entranced, as Justin carefully cleans up his hand with his tongue, licking his fingers clean like a cat. Justin’s movements have always been like a feline’s in Brian’s eyes.
“Brian?” Justin asks as Brian pushes him against the sheets, his head resting comfortably against the pillow.
“Hm?” Brian suckles his collarbone.
“Would you ever consider moving to New York?”
Brian lets out a puff of laughter, his breath warming his saliva imprinting Justin’s skin. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Brian kisses Justin’s neck wetly, stalling long enough to leave a sloppy red mark. “Many times.”
Justin smiles, nodding slightly and then settling on the bed. He sucks in a breath as Brian trails his tongue down his belly. He hasn’t received a blow job in a really long time.
“Brian?”
He can’t see Brian’s face, but he knows Brian’s rolling his eyes. “What?”
“What do you dream about?”
It catches Brian off guard. He pauses, considering his response before saying, “Work. Mostly.”
Justin’s disappointed. He arches into Brian, nudging him with his semi-hard cock, already pushing the reason he asked into the back of his brain.
Brian kisses Justin’s belly before pushing himself lower again. “Why? What do you dream about?”
“You. Mostly.”
“Oh.” Brian licks Justin’s shaft before lifting himself up and saying, “Well, sometimes you’re working with me.”
Justin lets out a peal of laughter, his body shaking and his giggles reverberating across the dark loft. “God, I love you,” he says before pushing Brian’s head back down.
As his eyes roll up into the back of his head, Justin finds a new determination to convince Brian to join him in New York.
END