Chapter Seven: Hold On To Me 

--------------Justin’s Point of View-------------

This time, this place 

Misused, mistakes…

Too long, too late

Who was I to make you wait? 

Brian answered the door and pulled me into his arms without a word. He held me there in the doorway, his hands firm against my shoulder blades.  I breathed in deep and fell into his arms. 

For a long, entirely complete moment, I feel whole. 

It isn’t long before he’s kissing me. Kissing me, his mouth so warm, his breath sweet. 

“Let me have you,” he says, his voice husky in my ear. I groan and close my eyes. I’m melting into him and I want it so bad, my body feels like it’s pleading with him. 

Soon I am standing naked over his bed, shivering under the intense attention that he is lavishing on me.  He is licking me, his tongue wide, hot and warm . He starts with the back of my knees, making them buckle. Then he licks my hips, ignoring the ready-to-burst cock in the middle, and I groan. He licks straight up my sternum, then across both nipples while I pull his hair, fighting not to rub myself against him. 

He licks my neck, the tip of his tongue against my Adam’s apple…I tip my head back and sigh. He stands taller above me and licks my slightly open mouth, his tongue snaking inside, and I feel myself dripping against his leg. He feels it too and  his growl vibrates against my throat. 

He reaches my eyes and I close them, trying to will myself calm while he licks my eye lids. 

A moment later I open them and we look at each other. 

“You’ve always had me,” I say and he bites his lip. 

Soon after that I’m on my back, my legs on his shoulders. 

“You were the last one who --” I say, letting the sentence go unfinished. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, like he always does, nuzzling his face into the crook of my shoulder. 

And he is… …I don’t know how I ever could have thought I had anywhere to be but here. Anything else to do but this. Anyone to love but him. 

--------------Brian’s Point of View---------------

I love you 

I have loved you all along

And I miss you 

Been far away for far too long 

I keep dreaming you’ll be with me 

And you’ll never go

Afterward I am relaxed. My body feels like empty, formless gel and my mind is at rest.  Justin has just gotten up and I hear the water running in the bathroom. He’s bringing a washcloth to clean us up with. I love how he waits until the water is hot.  I take a long, deep breath and I can feel the last six months melting away.  I start to drift off, almost asleep.

I feel Justin’s weight on the bed and I smile to myself. 

That’s when I realize that, in the heat of the moment, I’d taken my shirt off. Which I’d managed not to do lately. It was easy for those casual fucks.  With Sunshine I guess I got too caught up in it because it never crossed my mind. 

Then I feel the lightest feather touch, right along the longest cut, five inches just at  my shoulder.  His finger traces the thin line of the scar with the pad of his pointer finger. A shiver runs through my body at the softness of his touch.

My throat goes dry and my heart pounds  and I feel like I’m falling. It’s like suddenly waking up from a terrifying dream.

“Brian,” he says, his voice so tender and soft. Not a question. I lay there, frozen, my heart beating out of my chest.  I feel him sit back on the bed and lean in closer. I swallow and begin to sweat.  His fingers rest on another one. A shorter, deeper one at the top of the other shoulder.  He presses on it, a constant pressure, and waits to see if I flinch. I don’t. 

“Brian…you’ve been hurting yourself,” he says, sounding amazed and near tears. Hearing him made my chest tighten and I can’t get out any words. As if there are any to say.  

I feel Justin’s hand shaking as he strokes my hair.  Somehow I manage to nod, confirming it. I feel Justin’s hand still in my hair and his voice is rougher when it comes. 

“How the fuck could you -- how can you do that?”  He still sounds incredulous and I feel him shifting on the bed.

“It’s -- it’s nothing,” I force myself to say, trying hard to look relaxed. Now Justin sits up and practically pulls me next to him. 

“What did you just say?” he demands, his eyes flashing with anger. 

“It’s nothing,” I repeat more quietly. For a moment Justin looks like he’s about to hit me. 

“What the FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he practically yells, jumping off the bed. I stay there and watch him, my heart pounding furiously. 

“I -- I -- I won’t do it any more,” I say, fumbling for words. Justin’s face clouds over, his eyebrows arched, jaw set, lips drawn down and in. 

“You won’t do this ANY MORE?”  He looks so upset I stand up, ready to go to him but he takes a few steps back from me.  I sigh and shake my head. 

“I won’t."

Justin begins to pace, his bare feet against the wood floor of the loft. Part of me, a big part of me, is still happy solely because he is here again. He is home again.  I try hard to think about that and only that. Justin’s home. Justin’s home. Justin’s home. 

I wonder if there’s any chance we can just pretend the last six months didn’t happen. That I never even said that it was only time. 

The lights are on now, and for the first time in a long, long time I’m home during the day. I like it; I like watching Justin’s hair gleam in the sunlight that comes from the windows. Suddenly all of it seems ridiculous and distant, all of the darkness and the cutting. I have a hard time thinking about it and I’m sorry that I made Justin think about it, too.

Justin  paces for a while; looking around as if examining how I had lived the last months. He looks as though he doesn’t know what to do with himself next. 

“Where is it?” he asks finally, his voice loud and flat. 

“Where is what?” I ask, still trying to focus on the sunlight and his hair. 

He turns to me, his eyes electric with anger. 

“The razor.”  

Oh.    That.