Brian’s POV It had been six weeks since Sunshine had left when the first postcard arrived. I had been at work since five and was feeling as bitchy as Mel or Linz when they’re on the rag. Ted and Cynthia had both been giving me a wide berth all day, so when Cynthia strolled in I was surprised. “Mail call.” She said as she threw a stack of letters onto my desk. “Although, not the kind of male you should be getting.” With a smirk and a wave she headed back out the door, without giving me a chance to respond. I leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. A massive headache, from too much booze and too little fucking, was forming behind my closed eyes. Figuring the mail was mostly bills, I pushed the pile to the side and tried to refocus on the current press boards that the “art” department had sent up for my okay. A brightly colored, abstract postcard looking thing slid from the stack of letters and drifted to the floor. With more than a little curiosity, I picked it up and flipped it over. The first thing that caught my eye was the postmark. NY, NY, dated two days previous. I smirk a little, knowing who the card was from even before I read the brief note. WYWH/WIWT Love, J Not very communicative, I thought, but the sentiment was received none the less. Chuckling to myself, I stroll to the door and flip the lock. Given my mood over the past few weeks, my blinds were already drawn and anyone who tried the door wouldn’t be surprised to find it locked. Back at my desk I hit the speaker phone and press the first speed dial. Two rings later, a slightly grumpy voice answered, “Yeah?” “With a greeting like that perhaps I should go?” I say as I take off my jacket, tossing it on the couch nearby. “Brian? Is everything alright? Sorry about that, I didn’t check the id before answering.” The voice on the other end of the line changes from annoyance, to concern, to confusion in less than a heartbeat. “Is this a bad time?” I ask as I settle back into my chair. “No. It’s alright. I was just doodling. Trying to find my inspiration.” I hear a pencil hit a desk or table and relax a bit as I hear him shuffling around. “Anything wrong?” The concern is back and I quickly alleviate his fears. “Everything, everyone, is fine, Sunshine. Just miss you. I got your postcard and thought I would indulge.” “Shit Brian. I miss you too. This is harder than I ever imagined it would be.” I can hear the melancholy in his voice and try to distract him. “What cha wearing baby?” I say in a low husky voice. A throaty laugh lets me know my plan is working and I relax further into my chair, unbuttoning my pants and slowing rubbing my cock. I hear more movement on his end of the line and imagine him getting comfortable on the futon I bought him for his studio. “I’m alone in the studio and only have on my jeans. I’m unbuttoning them for you.” He sighs into the phone and my dick twitches as his voice washes over me like a caress. “Work them slowly down your body, baby. Imagine my hands caressing your thighs as I work them off you. Underwear?” I ask. “I decided to go commando. Feeling the friction of the denim on my balls inspires me sometimes.” A moan escapes through the phone lines and I know he’s cupping his balls. “Stroke your cock. Imagine my tongue licking the length and circling the slit. Do you feel my hot breath?” “Ye-es. Oh god Brian, I’ve missed your mouth, your touch.” I know he’s losing himself in the images and I desperately try to follow him there. “Tell me what you feel, Justin. What am I doing to you now?” “Fuck. You’re flipping me onto my stomach.” I hear him turning himself over. “You’re playing with my hole, god, your tongue feels so good preparing me for your dick. You’re ripping the condom open. I take it from you and put it on your cock.” He moans again and I know he’s getting close. “Slow and gentle? Or rough and hard?” My own hand is pumping furiously on my cock and I slow the pace a bit, teetering on the edge. “Ram me Brian, push it in hard.” My hand jerks involuntarily at the sound of his voice, so close to coming. “Put your fingers in your ass, baby. Feel me inside you as you finger fuck yourself.” I hear the phone clatter to the floor as he drops it to do as I ask. I hear him moan and cry out my name as he climaxes. I follow close behind as my own orgasm overtakes me. I bite my lips, stifling my roar of triumph. After several minutes my brain begins to function again and I realize he’s talking to me. “Jesus Brian, I haven’t come that hard in a long time.” “Been saving up huh?” Secretly I’m glad for the admission. Even though we hadn’t set any “rules” about this separation, I had secretly hoped he wouldn’t screw around too much. His admission lets me know that even if he is fucking other guys, I still have that special place in his heart. “Been busy settling in and getting my studio set up. Haven’t had time to screw around, or get myself off often for that matter. Was it good for you?” I hear the slight hesitation in his voice and know that he’s expecting me to have picked up fucking everything in sight again since he left. “It’s not as great as having my Sunshine here blowing me, but it gets me by.” It’s as close as I can get to telling him he’s the only one I want to be ‘tricking’. I hear him laugh and know my point has been made without having to utter the words. “Well, I should let you get back to work. I’m sure you have a million things to do.” I hear him shift on the futon and wish, not for the first time, that I was laying beside him and not five hours away. “A million and one. Inspired now Sunshine?” I smirk as I clean myself up and refasten my clothes. “Yeah. Orgasms always inspire me. Especially when you cause them.” Even though I can’t see him, I know he’s giving me that smile that earned him his name. “Get to work then and become famous. I…I love you.” I falter over the last words, still not used to saying them out loud. “I love you too, Brian.” He whispers before the phone goes dead. Justin’s POV I disconnect the phone and roll onto my back. Sex with Brian, even phone sex has always tired me physically, but still energized and inspired me creatively. I let images and colors swirl through my mind as my body recovers. After about ten minutes the need to draw has become too much to resist. I get up from the futon and pull my jeans up and over my hips. I button the fly, leaving the top button undone, a la my favorite ad exec. Glancing quickly at the clock to gaze the time I have before my studio mate comes in, I forgo the shirt and carry my sketch pad and charcoal over to the window. Curling up on the cushions, I begin letting the images in my brain flow through my hand to the paper. I lose myself in the black and white sketches of New York, adding my own personal flair. Without realizing it, four hours have flown by and I’m still in my position by the window drawing. It’s my studio mate’s cough that alerts me to the fact that I’m no longer alone. Dazed and confused, I look up at Bren and smile. “When did you get here?” I say as I finally lay down the charcoal and rub my aching hand. “’Bout two hours ago. You were so entranced I decided not to disturb you.” Bren says never turning from her canvas. “Why aren’t you working on the computer? You know when you draw by hand for too long your hand cramps like a bitch.” Throwing her brush aside carelessly, she turns and walks to sit in front of me. “I know.” I sigh as she begins to massage my wrist and hand, slowly working her way to the tips of my fingers. “I was just so inspired I lost track of time. That’s all.” I shrug as she gives me a knowing smirk. “Got a call from the boyfriend huh?” Bren continues her ministrations on my hand as she glances to my face. “I hope you didn’t get any jizz on that lovely futon. I crash on it occasionally.” She laughs outright, as a deep flush creeps up my neck and face. “He’s not exactly my boyfriend.” I say in an effort to steer the conversation away from Brian’s call. “I’m not really sure what we are at this point.” “Do you love him?” “With every breath.” I say without hesitation. “Have you fucked anyone since you got here?” “That wouldn’t exactly count either way. We’ve never been mutually exclusive.” “Have you bottomed for anyone since you’ve hit the big apple?” “I bottom for no one but Brian. He’s been the only one I’m willing to surrender control to.” Realizing what I’ve revealed, I look away. “Who’s the first person you think of in the morning and the last person you think of before you go to sleep at night?” “Brian.” I barely whisper. With a satisfied smile and a pat to my cheek, Bren curls up on the cushions and says, “Sounds like a boyfriend to me. Now show me what you’ve been working on.” As she reaches for my sketch pad, I place my hand over hers. “These aren’t for public consumption. At least not most of them. They’re meant for…” I trail off, not sure what I want to say. “And you say he’s not a boyfriend.” Smirking again, Bren pulls me up and grabs the sketch pad, but doesn’t open it. “Come on, Sparkly, let’s go send these to the inspiration himself. And while we’re out,” she adds, “We can get some dinner. I’m famished.” As she leads me to the door, my stomach lets out a growl, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since that morning. “Alright, but nothing too spicy. I’m not sure my stomach could handle a repeat of that Mongolian place we tried last time.” She agreed and with a playful shove, she pushed me out the door.