Justin’s POV “Tell me what you need, Sunshine. Show me what want.” Brian’s soft, erotic voice was intoxicating. I was mesmerized by its intensity, swallowed up in my own desire and need. It obscured everything else in my world, smeared the memory of the hard, tortuous day into an incomprehensible blur. I felt Brian’s lips between my shoulder blades, trailing kisses and little nips of affection up the back of my neck and the side of my throat. I arched my head back as I felt his hands slide under my body, his warm, sweaty palms flat against my belly and chest, the muscles of his forearms rippling against the skin of my ribcage. I knew Brian’s body inside and out; clothed, naked, or at any stage in between. I knew the precise way his shirts hung from his shoulders, the notch he wore all of his belts on, the length he kept his toenails, the location and shape of every single tiny scar and birth mark. But his naked beauty and absolute perfection had still left me speechless. Brian’s weight shifted and I felt him carefully lowering his body onto mine, his legs straddling my good leg, his blissful warm, solid weight pressing me into the mattress. I was terrified this would all turn out to be a dream, and every moral fibre in my body clung to it in the desperate hope that this time, it might be real. “Is this OK?” Brain asked softly, his words coming on hot breath against my ear. I felt him touch my injured leg gently. “Does this hurt?” “No…don’t stop. Please…” I begged, without stopping to consider his question. I was propped up on my elbows, my bad leg splayed out to the side as if I were a soldier crawling on my belly through no-man’s land. My knee, which had given me so much grief that day- being pocked and prodded and manoeuvred by the doctors and then being squeezed into tight-fitting knee brace- now seemed completely painless. Pain didn’t exist now; it didn’t belong in this tiny corner of the universe that was ours alone. With one hand, Brian lifted the hair at the back of my head and laid a tender wet kiss just at my hairline, in the hollow at the base of my skull. It made me give and involuntary shiver and I bowed my head as I felt his tongue dip into the hollow again. He let my hair fall and wrapped his arms under my body to cup my shoulders, using the leverage to rock himself very slowly against me. I could feel his erection pressing up against the back of my thigh and knew our need for each other was mutual. God, I loved him so much. I needed him so badly. Brian kissed and nuzzled his way down to the nape of my neck and followed the dip of my spine until he reached the small of my back where sweat from my body had begun to pool. I felt him draw sweeping zig-zags across the area with his tongue and I shivered again, more violently this time. He let go of my shoulders and pulled his arms down under my body, his fingers deliberately brushing my nipples as they descended, making me shudder with pleasure. I knew what was coming next and tensed in excitement and anticipation. Ethan had never rimmed me; my pleasure had never mattered to him. I wondered if I remembered what it felt like… I felt Brian’s big hands massaging my gluteus muscles before he gently parted my cheeks and began to work his magic as only he could. And holy fuck, did absence EVER make the heart grow fonder. The sensations were so fantastic, so orgasmicly superb, that I thought I was in danger of spontaneous combustion. I was riding on a tidal wave of euphoria as Brian faultlessly performed every trick and manoeuvre he knew that drove me insane; darting in and out rapidly, pushing in deep and then flexing his tongue, licking a descending spiral on my skin before plunging into me again. I wanted it to go on and on forever, but Brian suddenly stopped abruptly and I felt his hand rubbing the small of my back. “Are you gonna make some noise for me?” Brian asked gently, and I didn’t miss the undertone of concern in his voice. With Brian, I had always been very vocal about my pleasure. With Ethan, I had always remained silent, not wanting to spur him on to more violent levels where all pleasure would cease. I’d been holding my breath out of force of habit, but I let it out and looked back at Brian over my shoulder. I gave him a big smile to make up for my lack of vocal appreciation. Brian’s entire face lit up with a glow that seemed to reach every dark corner and crevasse in the room. Shining into every dark place in my world. ~~~ Brian’s POV I could have wept with the sheer, staggering relief. Justin was smiling; he was actually giving me a big fat Sunshine smile. Glory fucking be. I’d honestly thought I’d never see that smile ever again. Not after today. ~ If the day had been absolutely heinous for me, it had been pure torture for Justin. The visit from the police had been followed an hour or so later by an equally difficult and harrowing visit from Mother Taylor. Her anger at what had been done to her son had been so intense and unearthly it put me on edge. When Jennifer insisted Justin be taken to the suggested medical clinic right then and there, neither he nor I attempted to argue. I don’t know what they did to Justin in that examination room, or the questions they’d asked him afterwards, but it had clearly been painful for him; both physically and mentally. He’d come out of it distressed and agitated, but refused to say a word. Later, while he was having x-rays done on his knee, Jennifer and I had been ushered into a consulting room and told all the things I didn’t what to hear. The results of the examination were conclusive; there were indications of physical and sexual abuse, as well as psychological trauma. Justin was additionally showing signs of depression including, but were not limited to; weight loss, suppression or loss of appetite, and insomnia. He would need counselling and therapy, and they were going to put him on an anti-depressant. If Justin had been in the room with us, I think Jennifer and I would have had to fight for who got to hold him and shelter him from everything forever. After all that, I’d thought Justin would want to rest, but he’d insisted on a visit to the animal hospital. Despite a bandaged frount paw, seven stitches and a cone, Wolfram had mewed loudly and clawed at his cage at the sight of us, quietening only when Justin had been allowed to take him out and hold him. Justin had sat on the floor with the cat on his lap for over an hour, stroking him and talking softly to him, until the clinic closed and I’d had to lead a distraught Justin back to the ‘Vette. When we’d finally gotten back to the loft, Justin had sat down in the middle of the floor and burst into floods of violent, frenzied tears. They had gone on and on, and there was nothing I could do or say to console him. Finally, on the verge of helpless tears myself, I’d asked him what I could do to bring him back; what would make him whole again. I said I’d do absolutely anything, anything in the world. And so he’d told me. And it had worked. Thank God. ~ Unable to stop myself from basking in the glow of that beautiful, radiant smile, I kept my eyes on Justin’s face as I trailed wet open-mouthed kisses along the swell of his ass and along his tailbone because I knew it drove him crazy. Justin turned his head back, his shoulders hunched as he began to make soft kitten-like mewing noises as my tongue dipped into his crack. I slid a hand under his hips and closed my fingers over his cock, making him give a yip of surprise and delight. God, it was like the voices of angels. “Roll over, Sunshine,” I ordered gently, letting go and getting to my hands and knees to give him room to manoeuvre underneath me. Justin obediently began to flip onto his back, but grimaced when the abrupt movement jarred his knee. I put a hand on his hip to slow his movement, and helped him to roll over with the minimum amount of discomfort. He was still smiling a little, and I bent down and covered his mouth with mine, as if I could capture the elixir of that brilliant expression. Justin’s hands slid over my shoulders and biceps and tangled themselves in my hair and I began to descend down his body; kissing, nipping, caressing every inch of him I could reach. I pushed his legs apart gently, touching and kissing all the welts and bruises, trying to erase Ethan’s evil with my love. My soft lips and gentle fingertips conquering his hard heart and rough hands. Justin whimpered softly and lifted his hips up, silently begging for what only I could give him. Smiling a little, I slid my arms under his body and settled myself between his legs, breathing in his distinctive scent. Justin made a soft noise in the back of his throat and thrust his hips towards me. He was so fucking perfect. I took him into my mouth, suddenly hit by the nostalgia of how he felt and tasted and moved. I knew him so well; I hadn’t forgotten a single tiny detail. His hands were in my hair, tugging at the strands and pushing my head down, trying to get more. God, I fucking loved this kid. I performed my entire repertoire on him, making him actually yell and arch his back like a cat, thrusting jerkily into my mouth. I would normally have pinned him down to discourage such movement, but this was about him; I would do whatever he wanted. Whenever I sensed him coming close, I would back off slightly, waiting until he was ready. “Bri…” he whimpered a few minutes later, when he had grown too tired to thrust anymore. He tugged at my hair and gripped the back of my neck. “Come…with me.” Understanding what he wanted, I reached down with one hand and began to jerk myself off, while being careful not to bring Justin any closer than he was. When I felt my orgasm rising, I pounced suddenly on Justin and deep-throated him, swallowing rapidly and making him gasp and moan with ecstasy as he began to come hard down my throat. I came a few moments later, my body shuddering with the force of it, moaning and grunting around Justin as we rode it out together. It was fucking hot. Later, after I’d cleaned us up and changed the sheets, we lay nestled together under the duvet (ok, yeah, we were cuddling). Justin had fallen asleep, pulled tightly into the crook of my body, his back rising and falling against my chest. His head was resting against my shoulder and I gently pulled the soft hair back off his forehead to watch his sleeping face. There would be more nightmares tonight; there would be nightmares every night for quite some time. The wound Ethan had inflicted was deep and kept ripping opening again, but I swore to myself that I would see it heal. However painful it was for us, I’d see this tear in the fabric of Justin’s world close and the stitches slowly disappear. I kissed Justin’s cheek and held him a tiny bit tighter, knowing that when the night terrors came, he would wake calling out my name. ~~~ Justin’s POV The Next Morning “I’ll be back as soon as I can; an hour, tops,” Brian told me, as he pulled on his jacket. He watched me carefully, still looking uncomfortable as he did up the lapels. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” “Yeah. I’ll be fine, I promise.” I didn’t want to be left alone by myself. But I really didn’t want Brian to think he had to be saddled with me night and day. He didn’t need a clingy little ball-and-chain. Besides, Brian wouldn’t want me underfoot at Vanguard while he dealt with whatever crisis the urgent call had been about. It must have been really fucking important for a) Vance to call Brian at 8am on a Sunday morning and b) for Brian to actually respond to it. “Sure?” Brian asked again, as if he hoped I’d change my mind. “Yes, I’m sure,” I assured him. “I’ll be safe in the loft. It’s not like I plan to go out anywhere. And it’s only for an hour, right? I can always call you if I need you.” “Alright…but listen. Are you listening?” I looked up at Brian from my position on the bar stool and nodded sombrely, knowing that he could sense I wasn’t as comfortable with the situation as I made out to be. “I’ll make you a deal,” he proposed, ever a business man. “If you want to stay here, you have to have breakfast. You barely had anything yesterday. Deb and your Mom brought tonnes of stuff over, so have whatever you want. I know you’re not hungry, but you need to eat, OK?” “Alright,” I agreed, although food held very little attraction for me. Nausea and heartburn brought on by pain medication and Prozac didn’t help much. But I’d try if only to make Brian happy. “Good boy. Now c’mere.” Brian finished tying up his shoes and pulled his scarf around his neck. He put out an arm to me and I slid off the stool and hobbled over to him, still getting used to the crutches I acquired at the clinic to take the strain off my knee. “I need you to be safe,” he told me softly, pulling me into a tight embrace. “If the phone rings, don’t answer it And if someone comes to the door, you’re not here, got it? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He pulled back and tweaked my chin. “Save me some coffee, I might need it.” I smiled as he kissed my forehead and then my nose before pulling the loft door securely shut behind him. I heard to bolt slide into place and felt safe, knowing he’d be back soon. I should have realized then that the feeling of safety was only an illusion. About forty minutes later, I’d made myself apple cinnamon oatmeal and had managed to finish half of it before I lost all interest in it. It was gonna be a while before I could ‘eat like a trucker’ (Brian’s expression) again. I heard the elevator whirring and knew Brian had finally come back. I was starting to get agitated, wishing I’d gone with him after all, ball-and-chain or not. But a few moments later, I heard the reassuring sound of his key in the lock, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Only…the sound had a strange quality to it; the lock was clicking and grinding as if Brian had forgotten which way the key turned. I began to hobble over to the door to slide the bolt back myself when I stopped dead. A horrifying realization lurched up from somewhere deep in my subconscious. The police had brought over most of my things from the apartment yesterday; my clothes and books and art supplies. My wallet was gone, but it had been almost empty, and gone too were a few of my more expensive paintbrushes and pallets. Ethan had probably intended to pawn them off somewhere for money. But there was one other article missing. One that hadn’t seemed to register yesterday, but that reared up now in all its ugly, terrifying reality now. My keys had also been missing, my key to the loft among them. The bolt on the loft door clicked back, and I knew then, even before the door slid open, who was standing behind it. Ethan had come for me.