Brian was pouring drinks in the kitchen as Justin sat back and watched from the couch. Most of the lights were turned off, what little illumination there was emanating softly from LEDs hidden among the bedroom partitions.

The loft was dark and quiet as Brian worked and Justin tried to gain his bearings and relax. It shouldn’t have been hard to do, here. Here was home; the place that he’d shared his life with this handsome man for the better part of four years. Four years, Jesus. Justin knew that if it sounded impressive to him, then it must’ve been freaking terrifying for the other man to think about. Brian had never done commitments very well. But he’d tried, for him. The thought made the blonde frown ruefully. Maybe he’d have to try harder for Brian, too.

Justin ran his hand over the smooth leather of the sofa, its coolness feeling heavenly against his skin. Expensive Italian sofas certainly had their merits, he mused. Like being ridiculously comfortable. But he had to admit that it was more than just the furniture. It was the familiarity of the loft, knowing all of the pivotal moments that had occurred there. It was Brian standing in the kitchen. It was Justin working away at the desktop computer. It was Emmett giving Michael cutlery lessons at the dining table, Debbie dropping off home-cooked carb fests on Sundays, and Gus playing with his toys on the floor on babysitting nights. The loft had been home for so long, that even with the pressure to just remember one single fucking emotion heaped upon him, the young vampire found that he was calmed by being there again.

Funny, because he honestly would have expected to feel frightened, or intimidated. But it wasn’t like that. Brian’s apartment was serene. It wouldn’t push you, harass, or take advantage. It had all of the amenities one could wish for: a luxe living room, inviting shower, expansive bed, even a built-in brunette whose sexual skills were top notch and conversational skills above average. You could relax here until you had to go back out into the world again to face your troubles.

Only thing was: Justin’s troubles seemed to be right there, pouring him a drink in the kitchen. What did Brian really expect to get from this, he wondered. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night, and no amount of traipsing about Liberty Avenue had made him remember any of his old feelings towards the man. But being back here in this place with him… well it was hard not to hope that he’d recover something. This had apparently been the final place that they’d needed to visit. The final exercise in the Brian Kinney method of memory restoration.

Justin had guessed as much, and in a way he’d even suspected that it was a trap. Brian would pour him a drink, maybe try a few of the now familiar but so far ineffective memory exercises with him, and then he’d pounce. Justin eyed the tall man as he moved fluidly about the kitchen. He looked so sure of himself in everything that he did, even in stupid stuff like bartending. Justin marveled at it. He could recall only a few times when Brian had ever truly lost composure and let something raw show. The younger man now wished that he could be like that: so outwardly confidant and calm.

He felt anything but, sitting there watching Brian glide around his home turf. God, the man was gorgeous. That wasn’t an emotion so much as indisputable fact. No gay man had to know Brian Kinney to see that he was someone they wanted to be with. To touch. To sleep with. Justin wet his lower lip as he stared pensively at said man. He’d removed his suit jacket and tie, the sleeves of his work shirt now rolled up to reveal strong, lean forearms. His skin was shaded by the dark room, making him look moody. His skin was always that perfect shade between light and slightly tan. He was that way naturally; brown hair and hazel eyes, but the blonde couldn’t help but to wonder where the Irish came through in all of that dark coloring. His fingers—hands that Justin had long-espoused as the exemplary model for the entire male gender—worked nimbly to pull corks and twist caps as he constructed something with orange peel and bitters. And above all, he was silent as he worked.

He said nothing and didn’t seem to feel the need to glance over at his house guest. What was he thinking? Justin wondered. What was he planning? Would he make some advance? Justin couldn’t stop a smirk as he pictured it: Brian trying to get him drunk and take advantage. Typical. But… Justin shuffled himself on the couch, thinking privately, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad way to end the day. Maybe.

Maybe Brian would pick up his drink and come over there and sit down next to Justin and say something witty, or dark. Maybe he’d neck Justin on the couch until he puddled there and let him suck his cock, or maybe he’d coax him to the bedroom and actually fuck him. Or maybe he’d somehow get them both bent over the dining room table, or undressed and in the shower. Sitting where he was and picturing each of said scenarios, Justin’s dick twitched a little, heat pulling in his belly and in his cheeks.

He shifted uncomfortably. Jeeze, was he really still that hot for it? And from the man whom he barely knew the way he once had? Said man was coming over now, bare feet padding across the floor from under his dress pants. The look made Justin’s heart race, and it made his heart ache too. He’d lost everything he’d ever felt for him; the fondness, the melting heart, the love. He’d lost it all and it killed him to know it. God damn it, his mind raced in frustration, How could you be so stupid! Just look at him! You had him. You had this perfect man and he was all yours and nobody else’s, so fucking remember how you felt about him. Remember so that you can have him back. Blinking away forlorn thoughts, Justin nodded questioningly towards the glasses that Brian carried over with him.

“A sidecar,” the darker man answered in understanding of the silent question, sitting himself down next to Justin. “And a mojito for the lady.”

Justin scowled playfully and shooed the drink away when it was offered. “No thanks. I told you I wanted a virgin,” he uttered.

“You looked like you could use something more challenging. For Christ’s sake, loosen up.” One of Brian’s hands came over to pinch at the tension held in his neck. “You’re so tight.”

Justin snorted at the double entendre. “Yeah well I can’t drink alcohol. It’ll make me fat in a heartbeat.”

“That sucks. Alternatives?”

“V?” Justin wasn’t sure if Brian had ever heard of it. “MDMA for vampires, basically. Some people put GHB in diet coke and shit. That imitates alcohol for us pretty well...” he trailed off, reaching to take an ambitious sip of the mojito after all. Fuck calories for one night. He needed a good buzz.

“I’ll have to look into that for you,” the older man commented lightly, sipping his own drink. ‘That imitates alcohol pretty well for us. ‘For US’, Brian thought, rolling Justin’s turn of phrase around in his head. Presumably, “us” was Justin and all other vampires. And, also presumably, Brian wasn’t one of “us.” He was one of “them.” The darker man frowned. He didn’t think he liked being one of “them.” Not when it was in relation to Justin, anyways. He wondered how differently Justin perceived himself now. How much less human did he feel in his own skin every day? For Brian, it didn’t seem that traumatic of a change. Sure the kid had little fangs now, and his hair was radically different from one day to the next, but that wasn’t so bad. And to be honest, the little fangs were kind of hot. Very Brad Pitt à la Interview with the Vampire.

“You don’t have to do that,” Justin was excusing in reference to the drugs. “I can buy my own shit.”

“From your roomie?” It should have disturbed Brian, how petulantly his voice came out. But all he could do was scowl. All he got for his troubles was a perceptive eye from the vampire.

“You don’t like him.”

“No I don’t. He seems like a creep.” Brian was convinced his scowl deepened at Justin’s cackle, “What’s so funny?”

“You’re Jeeealous,” Justin teased, having leant forward into Brian’s face. “You. Are.”

Steeling his frown, Brian used the leverage presented to him to place a hand at Justin’s back and topple him forward. The dumbfounded look on the blonde’s face as he wound up in Brian’s lap was priceless. “How can I be jealous,” Brian purred dangerously, “When he’s probably drinking bottled A negative in some shitty studio apartment, and I’ve got you right here with me?”

Justin was still gaining his bearings from being yanked sideways, when Brian kissed him. Hot breath fanned against his lips for a split second before their mouths were fused. Brian’s lips slid across his own, gentle but insistent. It was almost a rubbing of mouths—a tease of a kiss more than anything. Testing the waters, so to speak. The older man’s glass could be heard off to the side, clinking as it was set down onto the end table. In place of it, Brian wound their fingers together, and that added connection made Justin want to pull back even less. Somehow, he even convinced himself to shift into a more comfortable angle. Closer.

“Brian,” he managed to breath, “What are we doing here?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Brian rumbled back to him. “The plan was to make you remember something.” His hands smoothed over the rough denim covering Justin’s legs, fingers barely brushing the spot where Justin’s twitching member rested against his thigh. “But I’m getting distracted.”

“Me too.” Justin wasn’t sure what the admission would cost him, but with the look in Brian’s eyes staring him down, he was sure that whatever price he paid, it wouldn’t be too unbearable. Brian’s eyes promised so much. “I’m not sure…” Justin faltered, offering, “I don’t know what I can give you Brian. I’m trying so hard to remember, I swear. But I can’t. I still feel so far away from you but I want to be with you. I want…” God, what did he want? Did he even know? Justin wanted to go to the bedroom with this man that he couldn’t remember, yet couldn’t forget. He wanted to feel good, and he wanted to do it with Brian. If it was casual sex, so be it. But he hoped it could be more. He wished it was more.

He said as much out loud, and watched as lust overtook the other man’s face. Brian’s hands touched more purposefully at the spot between his legs, fingers working him through the pants. “Well I never said I minded if you took advantage of me, did I?” Brian’s eyes had flooded down to a serious brown. “So go ahead and take advantage.”

Blood rushed south and Justin grew just a little bit harder. Hard enough for Brian to palm him roughly. The blonde man couldn’t hold back the groan that came then. “Don’t,” he murmured. Hadn’t they come there to do something productive? Then again, hadn’t Justin known this would happen?

“Don’t what?” Brian’s voice floated between them, his eyes skittering over Justin’s countenance, both men looking tenuously at each other. And all the while, Brian’s hand still rubbed him presumptively. “Don’t what?” he repeated softly.

“Don’t stop,” Justin said, nearly pleading. And there it was: the moment he gave up.

Those words were him giving up. Giving up or giving in. He wasn’t even sure if it mattered anymore, as he wound fingers through the bristle of the hair at the back of Brian’s head. Brian’s lips were on his neck in an instant, his tongue and teeth clashing in sensation against the skin of his throat. Justin squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to think of a reason for why this should have been a bad idea. He’d stayed away from Brian for a reason, hadn’t he?

Of course, was the answer. The reason had been that the game—the one that Brian and he had been playing for nearly four years—had been drastically altered and it’d scared the shit out of him. Once he’d realized what he’d lost all those weeks ago, and how different it had made him, Justin had fought for space. He’d fought for distance from the confusion that being with Brian again would bring upon him. As he’d repeated so painstakingly to the other man so many times, it was like being with someone you’d loved in a dream, or cared about in another life. The awkwardness of what he knew he lacked pressing on his consciousness at every turn had hindered him until tonight.

But a very basic need had been building, and now it had him abandoning caution and common sense to the wind in favor of pure and simple pleasure. Justin stifled another groan as Brian continued to touch him so lightly, strong and practiced hands running over forbidden places. Justin hadn’t been with anyone in so long, not since the accident, and by now he simply ached. Pressing his hips towards Brian’s caress, his lips seeking the heady clash of Brian’s own, he told him, “Touch me.” The words were needlessly vague. Whatever Brian wanted to make of them, he could.

And Brian came forward to kiss him so tenderly that it could have been called out of character. There was a pull there. A feeling of need to be together that was so convincing, it gave both men the impression that they were made to fit this way: bodies entwined, always touching, seeking; always skin against skin. Why hadn’t they done this for so long? In his head, Brian was thinking about that last, lazy morning fuck they’d had; while Justin remembered the first. This would be different. It would be a passionate, darkened nighttime encounter, fueled by lust and loss and both of them missing what they couldn’t have anymore and weren’t sure if they’d get back. But that wouldn’t stop them now.

Brian’s tongue trailed wet hot from the juncture of Justin’s clavicle, all the way up to the base of his jaw, the outrageous familiarity of the action causing the younger man to hiss. Was this what he’d felt once? This confusing and undeniable magnetism between them? He leant forward again, hands gripping severely at Brian’s back. His nails slid against the fabric of the older man’s dress shirt, unable to find purchase there, and Justin found himself wishing for skin to claw instead. Their hips had aligned deliciously, and the younger of the pair pressed down against his ex-lover to rock their clothed erections together.

Brian moaned as his junk rubbed against the young vampire’s. Damn, that felt nice. “Nice” didn’t even begin to cover what he wanted to feel with the other man that night, but it was a start. Not even midnight and already he had Justin frotting against his lap. This was going well beyond better than he’d hoped. Brian leant upwards to try and kiss the blonde, but was rejected. It seemed that Justin was more intent on grabbing at his back, his hair. Brian allowed the treatment, hands sliding downwards to guide the younger man’s hips as they moved. This was what he’d wanted. Maybe not as badly as he wanted Justin to really feel for him again, but to have the man in his arms again, both of them looking for pleasure in each other’s bodies… well that came pretty damned close. The need to strip off hindering clothing was growing though. And from the inpatient motions of his partner, Brian could tell that Justin felt the same.

Above, Justin was boiling with a lust that had grown exponentially but was being given no relief. He didn’t want to sit here humping against Brian all night, good as it may have felt. No, what Justin wanted but could barely think clearly enough to communicate, was more involved than that. Somewhere along the line, his jeans had been unzipped, the fly of Brian’s perfectly-tailored dress pants undone to match. The black waistband underneath them reading EMPORIO was revealed, and it practically had Justin salivating. Brian and his fucking designer underpants. Fuck. He panted at the thought of taking the other man’s clothes off, of stripping Brian down to his underwear, pulling them down, and sucking his stiff cock into his mouth, his heavy balls. The thought had Justin using a handful of dark brown hair to yank Brian’s head back, arcing his throat beautifully as he forced a wanton, needy kiss upon him.

Brian didn’t fight it. Justin’s motions were desperate and demanding, and the assured man knew that he could and would give Justin everything that he was asking for in that moment, in that clash of lips. But first he had to get him naked, and then to the bed. And that certainly couldn’t be accomplished from the couch. He stilled Justin as best he could, calming the younger man down before uttering, “Stand up Sunshine. Come on, get up.” A nudge from his own body had Justin complying, and the second they were vertical, the darker man reached to pull Justin’s long sleeved tee over his head.

The full expanse of that pale, toned torso was revealed—just as beautiful as it’d been before he’d changed—and Brian longed to run his hands, his mouth, his body over all of it. Denying himself a moment longer, he trailed gentle fingertips over the swell of Justin’s pecs, across his shoulder, and down his bicep and forearm. His eyes lingered on all the muscles that Justin had worked for months to cultivate. “My little ninja,” he murmured, not even sure if Justin would recognize the familiar quip. Brian’s perusal had stilled in sudden realization against the skin of Justin’s arm. More specifically, the unblemished skin of his inner left forearm. “Your tattoo,” he astonished. “It’s gone.” How had he not noticed that before? How had he not seen it at Babylon?

Maybe because you’d been focusing on other things, Brian thought.

“You hated it anyway.” Justin didn’t seem concerned enough to continue discussing it, fingers already dancing forward to undo the buttons of Brian’s shirt. 

Brian helpfully shouldered it to the floor, and allowed the younger man to strip him of his pants as well. Then Brian had to watch as Justin kicked off his shoes, the last move increasing their height difference by about another inch. That was just fine with Brian. Besides, height didn’t matter so much once you were horizontal. All the parts lined up just fine in bed, and that was where he soon intended to be. He only stared with heated eyes as Justin awkwardly toed off his socks, then pulled his jeans around his hips.

Their gaze never broke through it all. This slow undressing with baited breath was familiar to each of them. It was reminiscent of how they’d begun their first night together. The thought was ironic, to say the least. Justin shucked his pants, until they were both just two boys in their underwear, wanting to fuck. Brian bit his lip on a groan at how soon they’d be doing just that. He took Justin back into his arms and turned him until they were back to front. He bent his knees and moved his erection against Justin’s backside, eliciting an uncontrolled exhale from the blonde. “You want to go to the bed?” Brian asked, fully knowing what the answer would be.

Justin had nodded, the short scrub of his hair prickling against Brian’s throat as he did. Thumbs dipping under the band of the younger man’s underwear, Brian nipped lightly where neck met shoulder. “Come on,” he nearly whispered.

Justin’s thoughts raced in a mixture of lust, panic, and relief as he was directed up the steps in front of the other man. Lust that they would fuck, panic that he was making a mistake by allowing it, and relief that at least they were moving somewhere with this tenuous game they’d been playing for weeks. The bed was there, presenting itself in blue sheets and hazy lights, grandiose as always. And just like always, he’d be laid out on it—the sacrificial lamb to the altar of God Kinney. If he’d had the presence of mind to do it, Justin would have laughed at the stupidly poetic notion. Brian had always been his god. He’d worshipped him from the age of seventeen and never looked back.

Obsession. That was the one, secret emotion that he’d been able to feel a trace of since the accident. The only one, and the one that he hadn’t let Brian know about yet. The omission was his secret to keep until he felt he’d regained something more valuable. Besides, Brian certainly didn’t seem to be wanting for connection as he guided the shorter man down onto the bed, shifting their shared world on its axis. Justin thrilled at the weight of the larger man that settled atop him, resting deliciously between his thighs. Brian rocked down against him, kissing him deep and slow. His gruff words came so raw from his lips, that Justin thought it hardly sounded like the Brian he knew at all.

“God, I missed this,” Brian breathed against his ear. “You, under me like this.” His hips moved again, bringing forth a frustrated cry from the blonde. “Do I still have to convince you that you belong here?”

“God Brian. Ugh, take them off.”

The more experienced man didn’t require elaboration to know what his partner meant. It was torture to pull away from Justin long enough, but he managed. He divested himself of his last remaining garment, then turned his full attention back to the man beneath him. Justin’s underwear was pulled down his thighs, revealing the gorgeous sight of his cock. Brian’s pulse throbbed as he covered it with his hand, sliding his palm torturously slow against the shaft. “Fuck,” he hissed. So perfect. He let his hand pump up and down, fisting him lightly. He could feel the heat coming off of Justin, could feel his body twitch in his hands. It was intoxicating to watch his face as he did this to him. To see the way Justin’s brow clenched, eyes slipping shut in concentration, the way his mouth opened in a pleasured ‘o’ and how he drew in his lower lip to stop the moans from overtaking him. It was Brian’s favorite sight. Absolutely fucking favorite.

Brian had his body pulled up atop him, Justin knew without opening his eyes. Brian’s head was somewhere near his mid-chest, eyes probably staring up in that way he liked to do when he was working him in his hand. If he’d have dared to open his eyes in that moment, Justin would have seen that he was right. Brian was a fucking voyeur, in some ways even to his own sex acts. And Justin would have been lying if he said that the hedonism wasn’t attractive as hell. He pushed his hips up blindly into the other man’s hand, and Brian slid a leg under his thigh, elevating him. Then there was another hand, rolling his balls around, pulling gently. Justin moaned loudly when Brian pressed knuckles to the smooth spot behind. “Oh, please,” he uttered, not even sure what specific thing he was asking for. There was practically a list of things that he wanted, by this point.

The reverberations of Brian’s sexy-as-hell chuckle could be felt against Justin’s chest. “So polite,” he murmured, one finger tracing back to stroke over Justin’s hole. He circled and he stroked, pressingly lightly but never hard enough to breach him. Justin wasn’t a virgin; no one was more familiar with this fact than the man who was working him over so well. But Brian wasn’t drawing things out because he thought Justin needed so much careful prep. He was drawing things out because the longer he had Justin there, blissing out on his bed, the longer it was before Justin left. Win-win.

When Brian had gotten the lube, sunk down his body, and really gone to work on torturing the younger man with sucks, kisses and fingers on everything besides his cock, Justin had taken himself in hand. Brian knew what he was doing, and allowed it. His own hard on went neglected against the duvet while he finger-fucked Justin, and his only uttered words were the usual of, “Don’t come yet.” He had to admit, Justin had gotten much better at actually listening to that command over the years. In evidence of that very fact, Brian could feel how the vampire’s hand had slowed in its strokes above. He curled his fingers purposefully inside the other man for the obedience, eliciting a sharp cry from Justin,

“I can’t—!” he half-shouted, trying to speak again as Brian climbed back up his body to face him, “I can’t hold off if you do that.”

Matched against him, the brunette man came down and kissed him agonizingly slowly, as if in apology for the unfair terms he had set, and Justin accepted it with lips and tongue and arms wrapping over the delicious sinews of the older man’s back. Brian knew very well that Justin couldn’t hold onto any semblance of self-control with fingers working him like that. It was ridiculous. Justin’s pulse pounded in his ears as the blood in his system worked through his veins. Thank God I ate lunch, he thought in a rush. None of this would have been happening if he hadn’t. His aching length pressing like steel against Brian’s stomach was evidence enough of his afternoon meal. Thank God.

Sweat had barely begun to form along his flushed skin, and Justin found himself dying for what would come next; what he would riot over if didn’t soon get.  Although Brian didn’t seem to be ready to deny him it, if the way he’d leant over to grapple with the bedside drawer was any indication.  Justin nearly groaned in relief as the other man knelt back to roll the condom on, before falling forward to cover his body yet again. Justin reveled in the weight, wrapping his legs up and around, lifting hips and offering his ass.

“Come on,” he urged quietly, “Come on. Put it in me. Fuck me.”

Once Brian had his cock in him it wouldn’t be so difficult to step back over the edge on which he was currently teetering. Brian could get him off in seconds with a hand on his length and fingers curling in his ass, but the sting of Brian buried in him would chase an orgasm away for a bit, and a dick didn’t assault his prostate in the same torturous fashion. Once Brian was in him, he’d be able to rock himself to oblivion, but it would be a slow and steady climb that they’d do together. He relished the thought of it. “Fuck me,” he was saying, apparently over and over again as Brian slicked them both up. The older man grit his teeth as he pushed in, and whatever curse or cry Justin might have uttered at that first invasion, was silenced by Brian’s mouth closing over his own.

Brian didn’t pause long once he’d connected their bodies. The moment was urgent and he wanted to feel Justin. Even more, he wanted Justin to feel him. He thrust his hips in one long, slow movement, and held on to Justin as the younger man gasped. “Hurt?” he asked, but Justin only shook his head,

“No, it’s so... Brian, please.” He didn’t have to elaborate. There was only one thing they both wanted, and Brian started moving in the slow pace that would bring them to it. His hips came forward to Justin’s body, drawing him close and then away, again and again in careful, perfect thrusts. Between their stomachs, Justin’s cock was trapped, the sensation of rubbing skin against it adding to all that he was feeling.  “Oh, god yes. Mmm…” Justin would sigh something every once and awhile, and he felt Brian kissing his skin every time that he did. His fingers pulled down the skin of Brian’s shoulder blades. He wanted to beg the older man not to stop, but he knew that Brian wouldn’t anyways. His heels dug into Brian’s ass. He wanted to plead with him to go faster, but he knew that Brian wouldn’t do that either. Besides, deep down Justin didn’t really want him to. Slow and steady wins the race, his fogged mind thought. And makes the race last longer, too. “Please,” was all he kept saying, not asking for anything specific, just more of the same. Brian fucked him so perfectly against the sheets, never letting him down for a second. Like his soft behavior earlier in the evening, the lovemaking was so tender as to be nearly out of character for Brian. If he hadn’t been so damned focused on the pleasure, the young vampire might have marveled at it.

Brian was burning as he fucked the gorgeous blonde beneath him. Every moment, every gasp and groan, every slide of his cock in and out of that tight body, reminded Brian of how much he’d missed this. There was just something about having this kid that never got old.  It was a new thing every time. Now he had his body all laid out over top of him, sweaty and hard. Justin’s legs tangled around his back like every other time they’d done it in this position, Brian’s knees and feet fighting for leverage against the sheets to thrust back into the other man’s body. His mouth didn’t seem to want to stop tasting Justin’s skin, wherever he could taste it. He sucked the flushed skin at the kid’s chest, he kissed his nipples, his throat, his jaw, anywhere. And he was sure the blonde felt his groans of pleasure reverberating wherever his mouth went.

“So good,” Justin told him breathlessly, their bodies till rocking.

“I know,” Brian gritted back to him. “So fucking good. Want to see you come.”

A failure of a chuckle left Justin’s throat, “You will. Fuck! yesss.” His eyes clenched shut again in concentration.

Such a goddamn good show, the darker man thought as he watched the pinch of pleasure scar Justin’s brow. Brian touched at where Justin’s hairline was becoming damp. The little cocksucker always did work hard from the bottom, he’d give him that. Brian could feel the forceful rise of that pert ass coming into every thrust, meeting him in the chase. He’d always liked that about the younger man. So many bottoms didn’t work for what they got. Justin sure as hell did. The blonde was so hot beneath him, wild-eyed and blissed out. Brian could tell by the flush of his skin that he was close. Breaking the no-nickname rule, he uttered, “Come on Sunshine, come for me. I want to see it.” He wanted to watch him shatter.

Justin’s next cry caught in his throat and went halfway unfinished, as the entirety of his body tensed up in orgasm. His hand shot between their bodies to jerk the tip of himself feverishly, his eyes all of a sudden shot open wide. Brian’s vision glazed over at the  ecstatic relief that swept Justin’s face. He could feel the warm surge of Justin's release on his belly, making them both sticky and wet. Brian’s hips drove harder, getting as close to his peak as he could inside of the other man. And when he finally came, groaning his release into the charged air and filling the condom, Justin could be seen gazing up at him from lazy eyes.

Brian collapsed onto the man beneath him, not worried because he knew that Justin liked the weight. Their stomachs were slick against each other with Justin’s release, and Brian had to gather himself enough to consciously pull out. He kissed the blonde’s frown away in apology for the separation, and discarded the condom. Brian wanted a sticky, sweaty, lust-drunk post coital Justin in his arms, and was offered no fight when he returned to take just that. He wrapped an arm about the blonde’s waist, pulling their messy bodies together. Justin looked up at him, the act of what they’d just done apparent on his face, and Brian couldn’t bear not to kiss him. He sealed their mouths together and gave Justin the most soul-bearing after sex kiss he’d ever done. “Thank you,” he said quietly, sounding completely sated.

“You’ve never thanked me for sex. Ever.” Justin still looked drugged, but now he looked self-satisfied as well.

“I’ve never had to convince you to have sex with me. Ever,” Brian countered tiredly. “But I’m glad that I did.”

“Your powers of persuasion are so great,” Justin drawled, flopping his head back down into a pillow. “How could I resist?” He wasn’t sure what to make of their messy bodies, hugged so intimately together. Brian had never been a big cuddler. He was more of a lay-next-to-you-and-touch-your-skin-a-little type of guy. But soon Brian grew lax against him, and then he drifted off into a light sleep. And it turned out that Justin just couldn’t bear to wake him. He let his head loll to a comfortable position and sighed, prepared to lay there, relaxed and still smeared in his own release, until Brian opened his eyes again.

“How could I resist?” he whispered again to himself. The man sprawled out against his side looked so relaxed and gorgeous, that Justin almost felt as if he could put the blame on Brian for this turn of events. Almost.

But deep down he knew that it wouldn’t have happened without his tacit approval. Justin hadn’t stopped it. He hadn’t left. He’d stayed. He’d stayed and allowed Brian to make love to him in his bed just like they used to do. Justin knew that if he’d ever held a hope of severing his connection to Brian Kinney, he’d pretty much just destroyed it. But, he thought, maybe it would turn out for the better this way. He hoped it would.

And for what it was worth, it was nice to have a large, warm body wrapped around him again.