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The End Done Right
by Vamphile
Chapter Twenty-Four
Justin awoke in a bad mood. He was angry with Brian for denying him last night. He knew that maybe he deserved it, maybe he had fallen back into his old habits, but dammit, Brian had never denied him like that before.
Justin vowed to himself that he would start paying more attention to his eating habits, to the cramping in his hand when he worked too hard; to how much time he spent in the studio. He was obviously upsetting Brian, and that was the very last thing he wanted to do, plus, he wasn’t sure how long Brian could go without allowing him to come, but he really didn’t want to test it.
All of these thoughts ran through his head as he idly played with one of Brian's nipples. Justin had woken in his usual place, leaning against Brian, one arm flung across his lover’s chest, Brian's arm wrapped around his waist his hand resting lightly on his hip.
Justin's mouth moved to follow his fingers, as he licked at Brian's body, until he woke up.
When Brian awoke to find a nimble little blonde kneeling over him, tasting him as if he were a delicacy he smiled.
Justin felt the change in Brian's breathing and knew he was up, he was aware of just how up he was when Brian pounced, pushing him backwards onto the bed, kissing him thoroughly while their bodies melded together in a familiar but ever exciting perfect fit.
Justin let Brian kiss him, moving his hips in slow circles against Brian's erection. Brian knew the boy would wake up needy, but Justin's eyes made it clear just how deep that need was running at the moment.
When Justin wrapped his arms around Brian and rolled them over so he was on top Brian realized that Justin needed more than just to get off, he needed to feel in control, something Brian understood well. He allowed Justin to set the pace as the younger man’s kisses became rougher, his nibbles almost bites.
“You give me a hickey on my neck and I’ll have to think of something horrible to do to you” Brian said, feeling the light nips get a little less light.
“Something more horrible than last night?”
“Was it so very bad?” Brian asked, mockingly.
Justin stopped what he was doing to look into Brian's eyes. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“Don’t break the rules.”
Justin chose to ignore the statement; instead he reached across the bed for a condom. Plastic square between his teeth, Justin rolled them over again, Brian leaned back, ready to take the wrapper from Justin. Justin pulled it out of his mouth and held it slightly out of Brian's reach.
Brian could get to it easily if he tried, but he was interested in where this might be heading.
“I want to come.”
“I’m trying to help you out here sonny-boy, you’re the one holding up the works.”
“I want to come while I’m inside you.” Brian took in his words. He rarely bottomed for Justin and NEVER bottomed for anyone else, at least hadn’t in years, but he saw the seriousness in Justin's eyes, and understood even more clearly now how much Justin needed to take control back. He was sitting up, straddling Justin and felt the boy buck his hips against him and he acquiesced.
Brian spread his arms out to either side. “I’m all yours.”
He was almost blinded by the sunshine smile.
Justin took his preparations very seriously, he didn’t want to hurt Brian, but he wanted to fuck him, and fuck him hard, claim him, remind him that he wasn’t the only one who had the ability to take control when necessary, plus, he was really really horny.
He handed the condom to Brian, who rolled onto him, and then he lay on his back, reaching for the lube, handing the bottle to Brian.
He dribbled a little Astro-glide onto Justin's dick, not too much, he wanted to feel this, suddenly he NEEDED to feel this.
Justin's eyes didn’t leave Brian's hands as he prepared the younger man’s cock for entry, and when Brian was done Justin sat up and climbed behind Brian who was on his knees on the bed. He wrapped his hand around his narrow waist, pulling him closer as he pushed his dick into the entrance to Brian's ass. Brian's head leaned back onto Justin's shoulder biting his own bottom lip as Justin pushed himself inside.
Brian forgot sometimes how much he loved this feeling, being stretched from the inside, filled.
Justin removed his arm from around his waist and pushed Brian's torso away from him, Brian caught himself, a little surprised at the force Justin had used. On his hands and knees he felt Justin's soft touch run down his back, relaxing him, allowing him to adjust to the feeling of him inside.
Then Justin began to fuck him in earnest, hard, rough, leaning in to kiss his back, his neck, wherever his mouth hit. And Brian pushed back against him, wanting it harder, faster, rougher.
Justin changed his angle just a little and Brian’s body convulsed, an actual cry escaped his lips before he clenched his teeth against such sounds. But Justin knew what he wanted and he wasn’t going to stop until he elicited such sounds from Brian. He reached down to grab Brian's hard shaft, and in a move he’d learned from the master he applied a small amount of pressure to the vein at the base with his thumb.
Brian’s eyes opened when he felt the pressure. His arms fell to his sides as his face dug into the pillow, and Justin continued to sweep the head of his cock against his prostate. Brian was crying out, the noises almost ripped from his body. There was nothing to think about now.
No Justin to worry over, no Lindsay and Mel to handle, no idiot fucking up another layout in the art department there was just the astounding sensation of Justin, and Justin’s complete control over his body. He gave in, moaning into the pillow, reaching, trying to get Justin to release him but Justin's hand remained like the worlds softest cock ring.
Justin ignored Brian's hands, pushing himself deeper and deeper into his ass, wanting him to feel this tomorrow, next week, forever.
He pulled almost entirely out and pushed back in full force, and when Brian was groaning, moaning out Justin's name, he leaned in and kissed his shoulder whispering into his ear, “do you want to come?”
”Yes” Brian said through gritted teeth.
”Are you sure?”
“Yes” Brian answered again
And with that Justin released his grip on Brian, pushing with all his weight into the man until he was flat, face down against the mattress, grinding against the sheets, while Justin pumped into him.
Justin felt Brian come first, felt his body tense and then release, and he didn’t stop, he continued to move inside him, the head of his cock stroking at his prostate as the aftershocks made Brian's body tremble. And when Justin was sure Brian couldn’t take anymore he came too, thrusting hard, his head thrown back in passion and pleasure. And then he collapsed on top of Brian's body, staying inside him a little while longer.
A few minutes later Justin rolled off of Brian, removing himself completely. He discarded the used condom and leaned over Brian's inert form to grab the pack of cigarettes and lighter that were on the opposite nightstand.
He lit one, laying on his back, ashtray resting on his chest. Inhaling deeply.
Brian rolled over, removing the cigarette from Justin's hand and taking a long drag before giving it back.
“Where the fuck did you learn to do that? Brian asked. Justin just smiled one of his little knowing grins that drove Brian crazy and took another long drag before exhaling small smoke rings. Brian smiled, perhaps the student really had become the master, and he decided to stay with that thought, because although by nature, he wasn’t a particularly jealous man the thought of where and when Justin had learned such technique was not something he was in the mood to contemplate.
Brian got up first to shower, and Justin joined him shortly after. It was a really smart move to put in a second water heater, and they were both very relaxed, almost an hour later when they emerged, red skinned from the heat of the water and the flush of passion.
Brian was running late when he got into the office, not an easy task considering he was the boss, but he was met with a sheaf of messages, a stack of forms, three scheduled client meetings and the thought that he probably should have gone for a more padded chair if he was going to let Justin top him in the mornings.
Justin didn’t even bother to put on shoes as he made his way down to the studio. His first instinct was to lock the door and get started, ignoring the small hunger pang he felt but then he remembered the vow he’d made to himself just a few hours ago, and the promises he’d made to Brian. He grabbed a yogurt and stopped in the den to pick up his phone off the charger, he would leave it on.
Brian called him at 11, and he answered.
Brian called him at 12 and he answered
Brian called him at 1:30 and he answered
Brian called him at 2:00 and he turned off his phone.
He stood back to survey what he’d accomplished so far and headed towards the cabinet for more cerulean. He searched and couldn’t find it anywhere, he started to curse Magdalena when he glanced over at the four empty tubes laying crushed beside the easel and realized that he had run out.
He debated and finally decided that he would have to take a trip to the art supply store. He went back upstairs to grab a pair of shoes and his wallet and was halfway out of the driveway when it hit him. He was suddenly sick, he couldn’t breathe again. “Fuck the radio’s not even on” he thought to himself as he tried to relax.
He pulled back into the garage and got out of the car, kicked off his shoes and locked himself in the studio where he contemplated his sketches while smoking a cigarette and finishing off a third bottle of water.
When Brian came home at seven he found Michael and Justin at the kitchen table, sketches and scribbled story ideas strewn across the entire surface.
Brian kissed Michael on the cheek, and leaned down to kiss Justin in a less platonic manner.
“You turned your fucking phone off.”
“You called me every fucking hour.”
Brian just shrugged, “Sometimes I need to look busy so Ted doesn’t start yammering about that fucking mutt of his.”
“It’s not a mutt, it’s a purebred.”
Brian grabbed a beer out of the fridge and silently held one out in offering to the two men at the table. Michael took one.
Brian opened them both and placed one in front of Michael and then sat across from Justin looking over the sketches. “So what great acts of derring do is rage up to?”
“JT goes away to visit the his family on Kroyton, and Rage gets really aggravated but then when JT comes back he’s opened up this vortex without realizing it, and because he doesn’t have powers in the alternate universe, he’s trying to keep up with Rage but he keeps getting pulled back into the vortex, only Rage doesn’t realize it at first, and then eventually he falls so far that Rage has to rescue him and….”
Brian held up a hand, trying to stop the onslaught of Mikey’s geeker joy. “How do the two of you come up with such original ideas?
Justin smiled, “JT’s family blames Rage for the whole thing and he almost takes them out with his powers of mind control”
Brian just laughed. “You guys have dinner yet?”
“We were gonna order a pizza.” Justin said, but I’ll make something if you want.
“Pizza’s fine.” Brian let out a breath quietly, no arguments about food, out of the studio at a reasonable hour, and from the looks of it, his hand was holding up okay. Maybe Justin was actually recovering.
Brian got up to order the pizza, and then went back down to the den to leave the Zephyr and JT to their comic book.
He noticed that Lindsay’s lights were still on and headed across the lawn to see if Gus was still up.
“Daddy!” Gus took a flying leap that almost toppled Brian, and did spill his beer on his new shirt.
“Shit.”
“Brian. language.”
“Sorry, Lindz, Hey, sonny-boy” he smiled. “Should have known better than to come over here without changing first.” He said ruefully, Lindsay just smiled.
“So how was brunch with Melanie?” he asked.
Lindsay stopped picking up the toys she’d been tossing into a basket and turned to look at him. “Brian, you have to understand.”
“I understand” he said, settling onto the sofa as Gus climbed on top of his lap. “If you two want to work things out, that’s between you and Melanie, but the kids stay here.”
Gus was reaching for his beer and Brian absentmindedly handed it to him.
“Brian!” Lindsay said as she saw Gus upend the bottle into his own mouth.
Brian looked down and laughed, taking the bottle from Gus “Not ‘'til your 16.” he said, kissing the top of the boys head.
Gus made a face, “don’t taste good.”
“Doesn’t taste good.” Lindsay corrected.
“Then why does daddy drink it?”
Brian just looked at Lindsay amused, and while she tried to be angry, she couldn’t “Because daddy is silly.” was the best she could come up with, “now go put on your pajamas and I’m sure daddy will read you a story and tuck you in.”
Brian rolled his eyes. But couldn’t completely suppress his smile.
“JR asleep?”
”For the moment.”
“So are you getting back together with momma?” he said the last word slowly enunciating each syllable, making his displeasure clear.
“No. She asked if we could meet to talk, and I thought it was a good idea.” Lindsay busied herself picking up the rest of the toys scattered across the floor and tossing them into the basket.
“What is there to talk about?”
“Brian, we have a family, we have kids together, and I don’t want them to grow up in a world where their parents can’t be in the same room together without yelling. Is that what you want for Gus, or JR? Do you want them to grow up thinking their parents hate each other?”
Brian considered what she had said. He shrugged, which was the closest Lindsay knew, he would ever come to admitting that there had to be a space in the equation for Mel. “She hurts you again and…”
“She won’t, I won’t let it happen again.”
Brian nodded and left it at that. Gus came running a few seconds later with his new favorite book “The Hungry Caterpillar.”
Brian sat Gus on his lap and read it to him while the child fell asleep against his already ruined shirt. When he’d finished the book he carried Gus to his room, and put him to bed, kissing his forehead. Lindsay smiled, glad to be back in Pittsburgh, glad to have Brian be a part of Gus’s life, glad to feel safe again.
She hugged Brian as he was leaving. “Thank you.” Brian shrugged again, too tired to deal with the soppy emotional bullshit. He headed back to the house, hoping the comic book morons had saved him some pizza.
While they were climbing into bed that night Justin couldn’t seem to stop talking about the new issue. Brian let him babble, he’d missed the enthusiasm Justin felt when he wasn’t so intent on making everything perfect, he’d missed that light in his eyes when he was talking about something passionately.
Brian held up an Ambien to Justin, who just nodded, and Brian administered the medication in his usual manner.
After Justin had swallowed the pill Brian pulled him back in for a deeper kiss, needing to feel Justin's body against his, and Justin responded in kind. When they finally drifted off to a sweaty dreamless sleep they were both sticky, and sated, and Brian felt his body truly begin to relax, after what felt like years of tension.
Over breakfast Brian reminded Justin that he had a doctors appt to get his stitches out. Justin scrunched up his nose. “I hate that guy?”
“Why?”
Justin shrugged, “Just do.”
Brian just lifted his eyebrows
“He can’t leave well enough alone.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Justin wanted to say yes, but he knew Brian was busy and it was just to get his stitches out, so there was really no need. “No, I’ll be f… I’ll handle it”
Brian smirked amused that Justin was finally removing the word fine from his vocabulary. “Appointment’s at 4:30, want to meet me in the city for dinner after?”
”We’re supposed to be at Deb's tonight, it’s Friday.”
“Forgot, tell you what, I’ll meet you there?”
”See you at 7.”
Justin examined his hand, he hadn’t needed to bandage it for the last couple of days unless he was in the studio, and it looked pretty much healed. He wondered what it would take to pull the stitches out himself and avoid the doctor’s visit. He put the thought out of his head, and started to head out to the art store, breathing deeply and intent on doing this without a fucking panic attack.
He made it halfway there and pulled to the side of the road, cursing, yelling, pacing beside the car, unheeded tears rolling down his cheeks, his heart racing, trying to catch his breath.
Eventually he ended up leaning against the car, hugging himself and wondering how fucking crazy he might be.
Shakily he got back in the car and returned to the house. Once he was in his studio he considered how to finish the painting without cerulean but couldn’t. He’d have Brian pick some up for him later. For now he started on a smaller canvas.
Brian called at noon.
Brian called at three, and was relieved to hear him answer while crunching on something. Eating without prompting was a good sign.
Brian called at four to remind him about the doctor’s appointment.
Justin took his usual position when considering his newfound insanity, as he liked to think of it. He was on the stool in the studio, smoking a cigarette and gazing at nothing in particular.
It was 4:35, he’d missed his doctor’s appointment but he couldn’t face getting in his car, just to have to turn back again. He examined his stitches again and made a decision.
He dug through the drawer in the bathroom sure he’d seen one, and was rewarded with a tiny pair of scissors, designed to cut nails, or nose hair or something. He turned on all the lights and concentrated fully on cutting below the knots on the stitches.
Getting the first one out was tricky but once he’d figured it out the second two were far easier. He rinsed his hand, put the scissors back, and felt like he could breathe again.
He looked at the clock; he had over an hour before he had to leave for Deb's. He invaded Brian’s stash and rolled himself a joint, smoking it slowly, and then mixing himself a gin and tonic. Another joint and two gin and tonic’s later he was relaxed enough to face dinner with the family.
Brian arrived a little after seven to find Emmett and Ted deep in conversation about the latest in small dog apparel. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent the headache he felt coming on.
When Michael and Ben arrived, obviously in mid tiff Brian knew the evening was going to be a long one. Lindsay and the kids arrived, JR in a finicky and cranky mood. Brian stepped outside to have a cigarette when he saw Justin pull in.
Justin stepped out of the car, happy to see Brian. The drive hadn’t been too bad but he’d had a few close calls with the anxiety.
“Brian” Justin practically leapt into his arms. Brian pulled the blonde closer and kissed him tasting cigarettes and…
“What the fuck?”
“Justin was kissing Brian's neck “Mmmmmm?”
Justin you’re drunk.
“Puhlease. I had a drink, I’m not drunk.”
Brian put a hand on each of Justin's shoulders and held him at arms length so he could see his eyes. “And stoned.”
“Needed to relax” Justin shrugged, dipping under Brian's arms to lean in closer and kiss his chest.
“Brian closed his eyes, head back, trying to push his anger aside. “What the fuck are you doing coming to Deb's stoned.”
“Brian, you’re ruining my buzz.”
Brian shrugged and draped an arm over his shoulder, “c’mon, you’re gonna be one of the few people who will be able to eat enough to make Deb happy tonight.”
Ben and Michael maintained a tactical silence throughout the meal while Emmett talked to Ted about the possibility of putting blue in a feather boa for her next show.
Brian watched Justin eat like…well, like he had the munchies, and left just after dinner.
Justin hung around for only a few more minutes then followed Brian back to the house.
Brian was pouring himself a second scotch when he heard Justin pull up.
Justin poured himself straight vodka and sat down on the sofa next to him.
“You know I don’t want to become your fucking mother”
“Don’t marry my dad.”
“I actually have to tell you not to drink and drive, or smoke most of my weed and drive?”
“No, I’m a big boy Brian, I can figure these things out for myself.”
Brian ran his hand through his hair. “So are we gonna just replace bad habits with different bad habits?”
“You might be blowing this out of proportion, just a thought”
“You might be one sick little boy who needs to pull it together. Just a thought.”
“You know what? I ate today, I worked a little, I did what I had to do and now the Great Brian Kinney is going to go all-hypocritical on my tight little ass? Fuck you!”
“How was your doctors appointment.”
Justin knew he was fucked.
“Didn’t go.”
“You have to get your stitches out.”
”Took ‘em out myself.”
“Wow, I missed the part when you when to med school.”
“Fuck you Brian.” And with that Justin stomped upstairs and lay in bed gritting his teeth and wishing Brian had never been born.
Brian came up a moment later.
“You know, you tell me to fuck you, to fuck off, to get fucked, and then you walk away. Last time I checked I had to actually be in the room to fuck you.”
“Last time I checked you’ve been fucking me over since I came back.”
Brian stood stock still in the doorway. He’d given everything to Justin, and if it still wasn’t enough, if after six short months the kid was frustrated and unhappy again, this was it, it was never going to work.
Justin looked up and caught Brian's expression, right before he shut down completely. “Oh fuck, Brian, I didn’t mean that. He got up off the bed and stood on tiptoes to wrap his arms around Brian's neck, to pull him closer.
Brian remained expressionless as Justin clung to him, neither acknowledging the contact nor responding to it. Until he felt Justin's tears against his shoulder and he walked him back towards the bed.
They sat in silence for a while, side by side, heads touching, thighs touching, fingers entwined, tongues tied.
Finally Justin spoke first. “I had a bad day, and I took it out on you. I’m … I shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah well, it’s not like I’ve never done the same to you.”
“But that’s less reason for me to have to do it, I know how much it hurts.”
“Well, then don’t fucking do it again.” Brian said as he stood up and began undressing, he was still in his suit, as he’d come straight from the office.
Justin lay back expecting Brian to climb into bed, they did some of their best talking and best making up in this California king sized therapy aid. But he pulled on jeans and a black wife beater and walked out of the room.
Justin realized he’d gone too far, and he debated. He had two options. He could ignore the issue; Brian may never bring it up again. The problem was that even if he never brought it up again, he would add it to the list in his head of reasons why he should pull away from Justin. Justin wasn’t really in the mood to deal with a cold and distant Brian. The other option was that he could follow him downstairs and force the issue, tease him into admitting that they were both over reacting and then fuck him into the sofa as they made up.
Justin decided he liked the second idea better.
Brian was exactly where Justin assumed he’d be. Very very stoned, and halfway to drunk. Jim beam, straight from the bottle, never a good sign, perhaps, the most dangerous animal on the earth was a shoeless Brian with a bottle of beam, but Justin was determined.
“Brian I’m sorry.”
“You’re not allowed to use that word.”
“Oh would you fuck the rules for a minute and let me say…”
“No, the rules are there so that you don’t fucking kill yourself until you don’t need rules and figure out that you have to take care of yourself for yourself, because you yourself are yourself.”
Justin tried not to laugh but Brian wasn’t making any sense and his speech was slurred. He wondered how much he’d smoked before he got home.
“Brian.” He tried again
“NO! Don’t just say my name like you know it goes straight to my cock and then act as if you didn’t break like forty major rules today.”
“I don’t even have 40 rules, how could I break that many.”
The drunk shoeless, Jim beam from the bottle Brian put his face just inches from Justin's. “The rules are IMPLIED.”
Justin wondered if now would be a bad time to point out that just because something was implied didn’t mean the person would infer it, but decided that this was not a good time to argue semantics.
“It’s implied that I’m not allowed to touch your stash?”
”It’s implied that you have to go to the doctor when you have an appointment, not pick the stitches out with a fork.”
“I didn’t use a fork”
“Well that’s good, cause I thought we were gonna have to buy all new forks.”
Justin had an urge to leave; Brian was making very little sense, and getting less sensible by the second.
“You’re supposed to go to the doctor so he can tell you important things, that matter, and are important, like that you need to see a shrink cause you’re fucking crazy, and that you need to put on weight because you’re fucking skinny, and that you need to fuck me more often because you’re fucking hot.”
Justin stared at Brian for a full minute before they both started laughing uncontrollably. This was probably, in some sense, an important emotional breakthrough for Brian, but hell, he was drunk and Justin was laughing, and they could get rid of their clothes in mere seconds.
So Brian fucked Justin into the sofa, and in the morning, they decided that shoeless Brian drinking Beam straight from the bottle would have to be only an occasional guest, because while he was great in bed, even if his kisses were a bit sloppy, he was a danger to all of their cool stuff when he tried to juggle.
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