The End Done Right
by Vamphile
Chapter Eleven
Brian awoke to the feel of someone nibbling on his ear. He bit back a grin and remained still. Justin’s mouth continued it’s decent down to his neck. Soon he was leaving hot sweet kisses on Brian's Adams apple, and then moved further down his chest. Justin looked up, and seeing Brian bite back a moan, knew he was awake, but if he wasn’t going to admit it, Justin would just make sure that he did.
His mouth latched on to Brian's nipple, licking and sucking and then biting at the puckered nub. Brian let out a moan as his back arched. Justin sat up. “I knew you were awake.”
“Yes well you’re very smart.” He mumbled, bringing his hand to the back of Justin's head, and guiding it back down to his chest. “But I think you missed a spot.”
Justin grinned widely and went back to his previous activities, slowly moving his mouth from one nipple to the other until he heard Brian moan again, which he took a signal to move on.
He kissed a trail down Brian's stomach until he reached a thatch of dark hair, at which point he blew ever so slightly, tickling Brian and making him gasp at the same time as the cool air crossed his now throbbing dick.
Justin leaned over Brian, searching, pulling a condom from the nightstand. He whispered into Brian's ear “I want to ride you.”
Brian leaned his head back and gave a half smile ‘I’m all yours.” Justin kissed the sensitive spot on Brian's jaw, and moved lower. The sound of Justin tearing open the wrapper made Brian buck a little, and the gentle feel of his hand as he rolled the condom on him was exquisite. Justin straddled Brian, putting his weight on his knees he leaned forward, kissing Brian on the mouth, refusing to stop until he elicited a response. Brian resisted responding for several seconds before his hands were entangled in Justin's hair and head lifted to meet Justin's mouth. Their tongues danced, and then he felt Justin pull away.
He leaned his head back again; content to let Justin have his way with him. Justin’s hand, soft, and warm grabbed the base of Brian's cock and held it as he slowly lowered himself down upon it. Brian bent his knees, digging his heels into the mattress, and Justin lowered himself completely and leaned back against Brian's thighs. He began to raise himself up and lower himself again riding Brian slowly, as he squeezed his anus causing Brian to let out another involuntary moan.
Then Justin began in earnest, pumping hard, not touching Brian anywhere else. Brian wanted to thrust upward, to stay inside him buried deep forever, but Justin continued to ride him, biting his lips to hold back any sound, he wanted no distractions, he wanted Brian to feel nothing but the sensation of being inside him, of his taut muscles gliding over him, soon, sure Brian was ready to come, he lowered himself fully and simply ground down, rocking just a small bit back and forth, leaning back on Brian's thighs as he squeezed hard on the base of Brian's cock, and he felt Brian convulse, watched as his entire body compressed and expanded with the force of the orgasm.
Justin loved the way Brian looked at that moment, head thrown back in complete abandon, control relinquished as he gave himself over to the power of the moment.
And then they were both still. Justin didn’t want to move, and couldn’t anyway, Brian's hands had found his hips and held him still, as he remained inside him.
It was several minutes before Justin lifted himself off of Brian and lay on his back, head on his own pillow.
Brian pulled off the condom and threw it in the trash and turned his body towards Justin. “That was so fucking Hot”
Justin smiled.
Brian glanced down to see that Justin still had a hard on of his own, and moved his head down towards the engorged member to relive the pressure. Justin was now the one with his head thrown back; moaning loudly and Brian's magical tongue did things that were indescribably agonizingly perfectly orgasmic. Brian tried to prolong the pleasure but Justin was too worked up and came quickly, calling out Brian's name in a manner that was both pleading and grateful at the same time.
When they were both laying back on the bed, sated and relaxed, simply enjoying the feel of their bodies, touching gently at the hips, Justin's head tilted slightly so that it was in contact with Brian's, cool air gliding over their sweaty bodies. Brian rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one arm, he was about to lean over to kiss Justin when he saw Justin's right hand laying against his chest.
He lifted it up.
“What the fuck happened?”
Justin tried to pull it away but Brian held tight. “Brian, that hurts”
“Yeah it looks like it does. You’re supposed to go easy on it.”
Brian hadn’t seen his hand this bad since the first few weeks after the bashing, and while he knew it still sometimes gave him problems, he was concerned at how claw like it looked. “Straighten you fingers out.”
Justin looked at him, trying again to pull his wrist back from Brian's grasp, still to no avail.
“Straighten your fingers out.” Brian repeated
“It’ll be fine once I shower, I just overworked it a little last night”
“Yeah, you’ve been overworking yourself a lot lately, seems to be your constant excuse, what happened to taking it a little easier, taking care of yourself AND your art?”
“There’s a lot at stake Brian, this show has to go perfectly.” He was still trying to pull his hand away, but Brian refused to relinquish it.
“There’s a lot at stake Justin, that’s for damn sure, but are you really willing to risk not being able to work again?”
“Brian, this is a total over reaction, come on, come take a shower with me and I’ll show you how very loose my hand can get.” Justin said, licking his lips suggestively.
Brian knew that maneuver, he’d taught it to him, the “look, we’ll have hot sex and then not discuss whatever we were discussing” move, was one of the first things he’d taught the kid, pretty much right after what a rim job was and right before the many uses of ice cubes. He sighed and followed Justin to the shower, adding the hand thing to the alarmingly increasing list of self-care issues that Justin was refusing to acknowledge.
It was forty five minutes before they were out of the shower, and Justin's hand did seem to be fine, full dexterity, as he’d proven twice before turning off the water and heading down to breakfast.
Justin was pissed. He had forgotten to soak his hand, forgotten to hide it better, and Brian had seen it. It had cost him a lot to hide how much it hurt this morning, but he had proven to Brian that a hot shower was all he needed to be back to fully functional. Still he recognized that he was going to have to put a little more effort into seeming okay, or Brian would start his overprotective thing, it wasn’t something he did often, and it was never overt, sometimes Justin actually thought that Brian believed that no one knew what he was doing, and maybe Michael never figured it out, and maybe Lindsay didn’t see it, but Justin was on to him, and knew when his casual questions were masking a deeper concern.
He made a great show of cooking breakfast and joining Brian to eat. Granted he had to rinse out every bowl and pan before use because of the dust, and they had to eat in the den, but that is after all why they’d bought a table and chairs for this corner of the room. Sitting across from Brian and casually chewing and swallowing as if it weren’t killing him to do so. Justin held it together until Brian left for work. He kissed him deeply, and sent him on his way, and as soon as the car was out of the driveway he sat back down on the couch and began to cry.
He couldn’t stop. He was tired, he was sore, his hand was killing him, and he knew he had a lot more work to do today before he could rest again. Almost an hour later the contractors started to file in and he wiped his eyes splashed some cold water on his face and cleaned up the kitchen, then he locked himself in the studio, cracking every knuckle in his hand twice before resuming his work from last night. About a half an hour later he threw a water bottle across the room in frustration and went through the ritual of cracking the knuckles again. When the nausea hit him he rushed to the bathroom just in time and was aggravated that he hadn’t even been able to hold down a couple of fucking eggs. If he lost more weight Brian was going to…
He wasn’t quite sure what Brian was going to do except not be happy, and after all this time, all he really wanted was to finish this fucking art show and make Brian happy, and now it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to do either. He gave up and took half a percoset, just enough to take the edge off of the pain and he had a couple of cigarettes, waiting for the pill to take effect.
Finally he got to work, the details on this had to be just right or there was no point in presenting it. As he started working his breathing slowed, his heart rate lowered to normal and soon he was too intent on the work he was doing to hear the phone ring.
Brian tried to reach Justin, hoping he could entice him to meet in the city for dinner but there was no answer. He wasn’t particularly surprised, the way he concentrated while working, often with music blaring in the background he was more surprised when he DID answer the phone, still he felt like celebrating, the Rapkins people had loved his pitch.
It had been difficult to get the creative team on board because it was such a departure from his usual method of going straight for the groin, but this time he went in a more emotional direction.
Photos of empty kitchen and dining room tables, juxtaposed with tables of laughing smiling diverse groups of people, couples, families, etc.
The pictures all had the same copy
“Where everyone’s family…and there’s always pie.”
Rapkins loved it. He explained the marketing plan, that they’d advertise in alternative manners, reminding the after hours crowd that Rapkins was open 24 hours, Giving those who wanted to meet up with friends an option that wasn’t so coated in atmospheric décor that conversation became difficult.
He had gotten the idea when Justin had mentioned the diner, after all, there was nothing special about the diner, far from it, the food was mediocre at best, the lemon bars were questionable and the service well, it was really only enjoyable if you were there more for the company than the service itself, and that’s what Rapkins was to become, a liberty diner for middle America, with pie.
Brian was feeling on top of the world. When he got home Justin was of course in his studio. When Justin opened the door, Brian gave him the good news and his beautiful blonde gave him that 1000-watt smile.
“So I’m taking you out to dinner.”
Justin felt a pang but pushed it away, he wanted to make Brian happy, he could let the painting sit for a few hours. “We don’t have to go to Rapkins do we?”
Brian laughed out loud “That would hardly be a celebration worthy of a 25 million dollar account now would it?”
Justin smiled wider “25 million, does that mean we can get the custom bead board for the kitchen?”
“We were already gonna do that.”
“We were?
“Have I said no to you yet on this entire monstrous renovation?”
“Justin leaned in and kissed him on the nose, the only safe place to touch him while Brian was still in his work cloths and Justin was covered in paint.
Let me take a shower and we’ll go celebrate Justin said, practically bouncing up the stairs.
Brian watched him go and then poured himself a drink. Justin had really scared him for the past couple of days, but he had finally, Brian concluded, scared himself.
Justin took as long as he could in the shower while he tried to get his breathing under control. He dressed quickly and took a deep breath, he even wore the Prada shoes that Brian loved on him and when he came down stairs he knew his efforts were worth it. Brian’s look was animal, predatory, and hot.
He backed Justin onto the couch and it was almost an hour before they were both dressed again and actually headed out for dinner.
The next few weeks went by almost too quickly. Brian was swamped with two new accounts plus the very demanding Rapkins representative. Justin was working almost non-stop in the studio, but he was getting a lot accomplished. And things seemed to be better as far as Justin's health. No more issues with his hand, he joined Brian for breakfast as often as not, and was usually in bed by four am, granted this meant that he was only getting three or four hours of sleep a night but he told Brian he was also napping during the day, when the light wasn’t right.
The great room was actually beginning to look both great and like a room, the kitchen cabinetry was complete and the tile finished, all that was left was to have the new appliances delivered. Gus’s room was almost finished, the bed was on back order, and JR’s room was everything any princess could ask for, Justin had actually taken a couple days away from the studio to paint a mural on the wall for her.
He’d hand painted the road on the wall of Gus’s room, so that when the racecar bed arrived it would actually look like it was driving off down a highway.
The guest rooms were painted, and guest baths almost completed, all that was left was the delivery of furniture and accessories.
_______________________________________________________________
Brian held up two shirts, cocking an eyebrow questioningly
Justin pointed to the russet colored one on the left. Brian put it in his suitcase, and then shrugged and put the blue one in as well. Justin laughed, as he shoved a couple of pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts into his duffle bag.
They were going to New York for one of his mandatory appearances at the gallery. Justin was nervous, not just that his art wouldn’t sell but that Brian would recognize what the painting was actually of. He wasn’t sure if even Brian’s ego could take seeing his own eye 10 feet tall. After the show they were flying straight into Toronto to visit Gus, and Mel and Lindz and JR, they’d only be gone five days but Justin wasn’t quite sure how he was going to handle it.
When Brian was busy, which he had been for the last several weeks, it was easy to convince him that everything was fine. Easy to take a muscle relaxer at night to ease the cramp in his hand, easy to eat, and focus on keeping the food down for as long as possible. That was his new trick. He focused on simply NOT vomiting for as long as he could, allowing his body to absorb whatever nutrients it could before it all came back up. Sometimes he even held down an entire meal, but not usually.
He told Brian stories about Daphne and her new boyfriend, they weren’t true but Brian worried less when he thought Justin was staying in touch with his friends. He called his mother at least once a week to tell her he was fine, and he allowed Brian five times, in the past three weeks to drag him to the diner or Debbies house at some point.
He seemed for all intents and purposes to be over the hump, and as a result Brian had relaxed, had stopped grilling him about his sleeping patterns or his eating patterns. He had learned how to hide those attacks that woke him up in the middle of the night. He was holding it together and more importantly Brian thought he was just fine.
Brian packed a few of Justin's nicer things in his suitcase, because Justin was incapable of packing anything without it becoming a wrinkled mess. Also because he wasn’t stupid, he knew Justin would use any excuse to not leave the hotel or Mel and Lindz’s and not having anything to wear wasn’t going to be one of them.
Justin was doing better, he was eating and sleeping some, but he still woke up in the middle of the night with panic attacks, and his nightmares were getting worse. Brian knew that Justin thought he had him fooled. Each time he’d sit bolt upright in bed, and go to the bathroom as if the sound of running water covered the sound of vomiting and crying. Brian had tried to approach him about it once and he had denied it outright, he couldn’t force Justin to talk about it, but he was annoyed that he was lying. He worked so hard to make it seem like he was fine, and Brian wasn’t stupid, he knew he wasn’t. He saw him massaging his fingers when he thought Brian wasn’t looking. He’d become a master at looking like he’d eaten something when all he’d done was push the food around on the plate, and Brian had noticed that about two weeks ago, he’d added an ingredient to his cigarette and water diet, and that was scotch.
He didn’t care if Justin drank, hell, he was one to talk, but how much pain management could one body take on three hours of fitful sleep a night?
This vacation would be good for the both of them. Brian had been working hard at Kinnetic and was actually looking forward to Justin being in the spotlight. Maybe then he could understand his value enough to start taking care of himself as if he were valuable. As it stood now, he seemed to be more worried about getting the house finished and the show finished then he was about his own health.
When they had finally finished packing everything they needed for the hip art scene in New York and the Lesbionic family life of Toronto they took the car to the airport.
“Brian”
”yes Justin” “Can you tell me what you’re going to take BEFORE we get on the plane this time?”
Brian laughed.
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