Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

It's official. I'm swamped in work..and I'm grateful I have some chapters written in advance for this. I even missed the posting schedule. :(

Just know I read and love all your thoughts regarding my story. Maybe one day, I'll find the time to answer...at least to one chapter's reviews.

Justin's POV

Ibiza.

Brian was taking me to Ibiza. Fucking Ibiza!

I couldn't stop smiling. Or hugging and kissing him.

Though, my joy was fast replaced by fatigue once we changed planes. I made sure to snuggle close to him as I closed my eyes, letting sleep take me. Brian held my left hand in his lap, twisting my ring over and over.

We were jerked awake somewhere above the ocean by the captain's voice telling us to buckle up because we might experience turbulences.

I didn't want to separate from Brian, but we both obeyed reluctantly to the orders. He didn't let go of my hand, holding it tightly until we were allowed to remove the safe belts again.

Brian leaned closer. "Do you have to use the toilet?" He gave me an expectant look, his eyes wide with excitement.

I shook my head, confused at his question.

"I do," he said firmly.

"Okay…" I let go of his hand so he could get up.

"Don't take too long," he whispered in my ear before getting up and making his way to the toilet.

I wanted to protest and remind him I didn't need to piss, then I realized his intention. Blushing, I stared after his retreating form. His swagger forced my eyes to his ass.

Most of the people around had definitely seen him. If I got up and followed, they'd know. If I didn't, he'd wait there for me, and some poor unsuspecting fellow might end up tugged in the toilet with Brian.

They might not object being in a crammed space with a hot guy, but I'd definitely object.

That thought made up my mind.

Trying to act as nonchalant as I could, I walked down the aisle, totally aware of my red face and wobbly feet. I tried the door, and it opened. I slipped inside, locking it behind me.

There was no room to breathe, let alone move.

"I've changed my mind," I said, shifting from one foot to another.

"No mile high sex?" Brian breathed on my face, his hands already under my shirt.

"No. I doubt this will work."

"Trust the expert. Get here in front of the sink. Put your hands on the wall. Bend over a little."

Confident little fucker.

I moved as he said, surprisingly it was easy. He stepped behind me, opening my pants skillfully and letting them pool at my ankles, along with my boxers.

I jerked forward, not expecting his cold fingers inside me without any warning. He took a few moments to stretch me, while he handed me a foil to rip open. I deftly unwrapped the condom and handed it to him at my hip. As soon as he had it rolled on his dick, he was inside me, his arms around my torso, only his hips moving.

"How often did you do this?" I rasped out. He felt too comfortable with the situation.

"Only a handful of times. Bad experiences taught me the best position."

"Well, make the most of this experience. It's the first and last you get from me."

"We're going to fly other places together, Sunshine. This is definitely not the last time."

"I hate crammed spaces! You know that."

His mad fuck skills brought me a satisfying release, but I still wasn't convinced to become a member of Mile High Club.

Brian ripped a handful of toilet paper, putting it into my hand after focusing on cleaning himself.

"If I wanted thrill in our sex life, we could go to the Backroom of Babylon, or an elevator, or even the diner's bathroom," I mumbled, throwing the paper in the trashcan.

"Okay, okay. Mile High Club crossed off the list. Now let's get out of here in a blaze of glory."

Once I was done rearranging my clothes, Brian opened the door and pulled me out by the hand. I kept my head down, stumbling after him until we reached our seats, where I slouched low and wished to become invisible.

Brian shot me an exasperated look, signaling the flight attendant to bring us another round of drinks.

"I married a prude," he grumbled, once he had his whiskey in hand.

I bumped my knee into his, glaring. He knew I was game for all kinds of crazy adventures, but sex in a plane was definitely not my thing.

oOo

When we arrived at the hotel, I was dead tired. The few hours we'd managed to sleep on the plane weren't enough, plus the jet lag made me want to find the first available empty spot, curl in it and sleep for a week.

Brian seemed more alert, but I guessed he'd crash as soon as we were in our room. While he sorted our stay and names at the reception desk, I sat in one of the comfy plush seats in the lobby, surrounded by our bags.

I could see the sun setting through the ceiling to floor wall glass, but not even that beautiful sight could impress me. I'd have time to admire it over the next two weeks.

"Come." Brian appeared at my shoulder, squeezing it softly. He seized two heavy suitcases, and I grabbed the other one along with my trusty backpack and laptop bag.

We walked into the elevator, dropping the bags. Brian pressed the button to the top floor. Of course, he'd gone all out.

"You tired?" He smoothed my wrinkled shirt.

I slapped his hand. "The presidential suite?" I wondered if he could do anything without being obscenely loud and going overboard.

"How did you guess?" He used that sweet mocking voice, which made me want to smack sense into him.

I rolled my eyes. "I know you too well. Anyway, to answer your question, yes. I'm tired."

"Then we'll sleep. We have time for other things later." He winked, making me laugh. Bending his head, he pressed his cheek to mine, staying like that until the elevator pinged, announcing we had arrived at our destination.

Brian unlocked the door, and surprised me by sweeping me off the floor and carrying me inside. In my quest for something to hold onto, I managed to elbow him in the shoulder, but he didn't seem upset. He didn't stop until he reached the bedroom where he dropped me on the expensive duvet, covering the bed.

"Don't you dare fall asleep, Sunshine!" He rushed away to get our bags.

I kicked my shoes, making them fly on the other side of the room, before I relaxed on the soft bed. After so many hours on the plane, my body was thrumming, and all muscles aching.

The bed shifted as Brian threw himself next to me, pulling me into his arms and giving me a loud smooch on the neck. I let it slide, and blamed his odd behavior on tiredness, and probably euphoria of having me all to himself.

"You don't mind if we just sleep?" I had to check.

"I'd rather fuck you while you're awake and responsive. I had you falling asleep during sex before, and I don't want to re-experience that shit."

"Christ. That was years ago, Brian. When I started working on Rage with Michael."

"Exactly. You have no idea how humiliating it was to have my partner bored to sleep while I was getting him ready for sex."

"Humiliating?" I asked incredulously. "Oh, I guess it was a first for you." I laughed, pinching his cheek.

"It had never happened before or after," he confirmed in a serious voice.

"What can I say? I'm special like that." I rolled on top of him, kissing along his neck. "Seriously, if I stop responding in the next five seconds it's because I fell into a comatose sleep." I snuggled closer, breathing into him. It wasn't the most pleasant smell, but it was still all Brian—my husband.

He shifted around, managing to push the duvet to the foot of the bed, before coaxing me into taking my clothes off.

When we were down to our boxers, he pulled a thin blanket over us. I snuggled into his arms, succumbing to sleep.

oOo

The sun warming my feet woke me up many hours later. Brian had the blanket rolled around him as he lay on his stomach, snoring loudly. He was never allowed to call me a blanket thief.

As for the sounds he was making, they had me worried. I truly hoped he wouldn't get sick now. He usually wheezed in his sleep, which I happened to find adorable. Of course, I never told him that. I treasured my life too much.

Stretching my legs, I draped an arm over him, enjoying having him close, all warm and squishy.

I couldn't go back to sleep.

Brian's snores and my overactive brain wouldn't let me relax enough to doze off.

I ran the tips of my fingers over his arm as I reflected back on the best day of my life.

I grew up dreaming one day I'd get married, and imagining how great it would be. Then I learned about weddings for fags. The first time I truly grasped how cruel and uncaring of our feelings some people were, was when Michael and Ben got married.

I'd heard their story from all points of view, and the worst part was at the border when they weren't allowed back in our Dream Land because they had the same last name. Michael and Ben had tried not to show how affected they were by the whole situation, but I could tell that their happiness from getting hitched in Toronto was long gone by the time they got home. Their faces showed exactly how everyone who wanted to get married and couldn't, felt. The worst part of it was that they had gotten married legally, only to be denied that right in their own country.

But I was past believing I'd ever get married. After all, my partner was Brian. He was vehemently opposed to the idea of marriage or any commitment at all.

It took another near-death experience for me to make him admit he loved me; to rethink his life and move past everything he strongly believed in. Or didn't believe in, as was the case for us. When he asked me to marry him for the first time, I was sure he was still in shock after the bombing, or perhaps it was one of his jokes. Then he went overboard and bought Britin, ultimately convincing me he was serious. But it also changed who he was, or so I thought at the time.

He'd been so affected by Prop 14 taking Linz and Mel and the kids away, he tried proving to everyone what they meant to him, but it was too much.

Then I left, pursuing my dream in New York and leaving all thoughts of marriage and love behind.

After years of an unsatisfying life in New York—thank God, I had Daph there, or I'd have ended up crazy—I was reunited with Brian. He still wanted the same things, and we didn't stop to think of anything. It was only our mutual desire to get married, to be together forever.

I'd have probably not minded if it was just the two of us somewhere, but Brian insisted on giving me the big wedding I'd always wanted. It was in such moments and through such gestures when Brian showed his incurable romantic face. Again, I'd never say the words to his face. He'd kill me in my sleep.

If he only knew the things I thought about him. I was grateful he didn't have mind-reading skills like Rage.

But it was time to wake him up and show him how much I loved him.

Chapter End Notes:

How do you all feel about this honeymoon in Ibiza? Is it a good idea? I thought it screamed Brian and fun. :)

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