Once they made the final turn, Brian knew where they were going and he gave Justin a squinted glare. Justin just grinned and tilted his head with a shrug of his shoulders. “You can’t come to California and not go to the beach.”
Brian rolled his eyes. He didn’t really care about landscaping, he’d gone to California for two reasons only. To see Conner and make sure he understood his place. And to see Justin to make sure that he understood his place. As in Brian’s place. In his life. In his heart. In his loft. And in those empty drawers that were still waiting to be filled. Brian had fulfilled both of those objectives so he didn’t need anything else. Looking at the ocean was not going to complete his trip or be the one thing that considered it a success.
As the limo rolled to a stop, Justin began removing his shoes and socks. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. “What the fuck are you doing?” Brian asked.
“Beach. Sand. What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Smartass.
Obviously it wasn’t what Brian usually thought when Justin kicked off his shoes. Besides, Brian knew what he was doing… the more appropriate question was really why he was doing that. “You’re getting out?” Brian surmised. His voice almost squeaking from the impending panic.
Justin huffed. “No.” Brian was almost relieved, but Justin didn’t give him a chance to be before he added the two most threatening words in the English language, “WE are.”
No longer an impending threat but a real-life actuality, panic gripped his heart. This cannot be happening. “We are?” Brian asked, not really to clarify but to waste time. He felt like a child being told he was going to the doctor.
“Yep, come on. Take off your shoes and socks.”
“No.” Brian was adamant. This was not going to happen.
Unaware of what Brian’s real problem was, Justin just thought he was being a princess. “Brian, you’ll get sand in your shoes.” Yeah, that should work. A label queen like Brian would rather have sand on his bare feet than in his Prada shoes.
Brian just looked away. He didn’t figure he’d get sand in his shoes since he had no intention of getting out of the car.
Shane came around, opened their door and stood aside. Justin meticulously cuffed his pant legs then folded them up again and once more for good measure. Brian’s eyes widened in horror. It was getting worse by the second. And Justin was wearing cargo pants! Just like in his dream. Fuck. And he was rolling them up… to his knees… and he was barefoot! Double fuck. Nope. No fucking way was he getting out. No fucking how was Justin going to make him do it. He was NOT going to frolic on the fucking beach like some hetero couple in a Broadway musical.
Fuck the damn dream. And fuck the fact that the damn movie from the damn dream starred the very same actor that they’d seen yesterday at Spago’s. Fuck all this kismet and fate bullshit. It was merely a coincidence or power of suggestion. John Travolta was in his dream because he saw him at the restaurant. He did not see him at the restaurant because he would then dream about him. It all meant nothing. Damn it!
But regardless of whether it was whateverthefuck it was… he was not getting out of the fucking car. And that was that. Period. End of story.
Justin got out and leaned back into the doorway. “Come on, Brian.”
“I’ve seen it. Okay? Now, can we go? Wouldn’t you rather be sucking my dick or something?”
Justin huffed again. “Fine. Be that way.”
And Brian thought for just a millisecond that he’d won. Justin never turned down an opportunity to give him a blowjob. But the millisecond ended and Justin left him there to head toward the water. Stunned, Brian watched him go then glanced up at Shane who was still standing by the door. He was grinning. The little shit. What was it about him that seemed to always amuse the blond-haired twinks?
Brian growled and grumbled to himself. “Nope. Not doing it.” He’d decided that if he stayed inside the car, he was safe from doing anything stupid or romantic like in his dream. He was weak after all, knowing that he would soon be leaving Justin again and in that kind of condition, he just couldn’t risk it.
He continued to watch Justin, walking in the sand, sashaying his hips with a little twist to really get the sand in between his toes. He couldn’t go to the beach and not experience the joys of bare feet and sand. It felt great against his skin. The top layer of sand was hot from the sun but as his foot pressed inward from each step, he felt the cooler, wetter sand underneath.
Brian continued to watch, unable to peel his eyes away but still not moving from the safety of the car. He did start to think, however… maybe, just maybe he could go out there. He was leaving soon and he hated that he was in the car and Justin was out on the beach. In their last moments together, they should be together. So really, he thought, as long as he didn’t do anything stupid, what harm would it really do to indulge Justin in something he so obviously wanted to share with him? It was just sand and water and birds. Sand that probably had fleas. Water that was full of seaweed and fish shit. And birds that like to poop on everything. He could walk out there, hold Justin in his arms for a few minutes and earn huge partner points that Justin would eventually have to pay back in some form or another. And Brian liked it when Justin was indebted to him sexually. So why not?
Once Justin was halfway across the beach, to the edge of the dry sand that marked the point where the water had rolled up to, he stopped and buried his feet in the cold, packed sand. He stood, all alone, looking out at the crashing waves. The wind came off the ocean and blew his hair. Chirping seagulls echoed in his ears and swooped overhead, circling around where Justin stood. The salty sea air filled his nostrils and he tilted his head back to breath it in.
Well, that did it. Brian had seen enough and couldn’t fight it any longer. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered as he stepped out of the car. He glared at Shane, daring him to be amused. Shane immediately looked away and straightened his face… at least until Brian wasn’t looking at him any longer then it came right back as he slammed the door shut.
Justin heard the door and turned around with a huge smile. He knew Brian wouldn’t let him down… or rather he’d hoped he wouldn’t. Besides, Brian never could resist his wiggling hips and loved it when his head fell back because of something he enjoyed. Justin’s smile turned into a hearty chuckle as he watched Brian approach him. With his socks and shoes still on, Brian was lifting his knees high with every step and shaking the sand from his shoe, cussing and bitching the whole way. It appeared like he was in the military, marching into battle, or with that silly foot wiggle, maybe he was a Rockette doing a line kick. But whether he was a soldier or a dancer, he was obviously afflicted with a bad case of Tourette’s Syndrome… explicatives were flying out of his mouth at an alarming rate. Justin shook his head, scrunched up his face, pushed out his bottom lip and groaned an, “Awww” at his pitiful and stubborn partner coming towards him.
As soon as Brian was within arm’s length, Justin reached out to him and opened his mouth. “Don’t say it,” Brian barked and Justin’s mouth snapped shut. “Take off your shirt,” he demanded, holding his hand out and snapping his fingers at Justin.
“Huh?” Justin was confused about the request that seemingly came out of nowhere, so the fact that Brian was being a shit went by without a response.
“Give me your shirt.”
Justin looked around the beach and folded his arms in front of his chest. “Brian, there’s people around.”
Brian smirked, shaking his head. The same guy that splattered the wall like a rocket in the backroom of Rage, turned on more than ever because he was being fucked with his pants around his ankles and his bare ass hanging out was now suddenly shy about taking his top off? “You are a myriad of contradictions. Did you know that?”
“Me?” Justin was flabbergasted. Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Brian was the master of contradictory behavior.
“Who the fuck else? Now, give me your shirt.” Justin didn’t move to take it off. He still didn’t get what the hell Brian wanted his shirt for. “You dragged my ass out here, but there’s no way in hell that I’m sitting directly in the sand, which is full of sand fleas you know, and since someone…” Brian arched an eyebrow pointedly at Justin. “…didn’t bother to bring a towel or a blanket… I need your shirt. Gimme.” Brian snapped his fingers again.
Justin glared at him, but what the hell? He was happy that Brian got out of the car so he wasn’t going to argue about it. He lifted the shirt over his head and pulled it off his arms. “Here,” he said, handing it over. “But don’t stand there and act like I dragged your ass out here, you came of your own free will.” Brian snatched the shirt out of Justin’s hands. “And I love you for it,” Justin added with a grin.
Brian looked up at him then nodded in defeat. He turned around, holding the shirt by the shoulders and whipped it in the wind like a beach towel. He knelt down and just as he was placing it on the sand, the wind folded over the hem. He reached over to straighten it and his hand kicked sand on it. Justin smirked but Brian ignored him. He picked the shirt up again, this time by the hem, shook it free of the menacing sand, whipped it up and back down. The wind cooperated and this time, he had his makeshift beach mat all laid out.
Justin folded his arms over his bare chest, his lips rolled into his mouth, trying to contain his laughter. He knew what was coming next.
Brian turned back around and as his knees bent and his ass got closer to the ground, his feet shifted, flicking sand on Justin’s once-clean shirt just as his butt landed on it. Justin bust out laughing and Brian glared at him, unaware that his little show had been for nothing. “What the fuck is so funny? You think I’m getting these $500 pants anywhere near this sand, you’re crazy.”
Justin laughed again as he dropped to his knees in front of him, kicking even more sand onto his label-queen pants. “Hey! You little shit,” Brian barked, brushing his pants off.
“Brian, you’ve got to be the biggest drama queen I’ve ever met.”
“Hi, Kettle, I’m Pot… and you’re black.”
“Hmm, maybe so.” Justin shrugged. He knew that was a correct assessment even though he was sure that Brian was more of one than he was.
Justin leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on Brian’s lips. Brian kissed him back then pushed him away. “Okay. Move.”
Justin frowned until he saw Brian reach for his shoes, then he grinned and stood back up. He sooo loved this man even if he was a contradictory drama queen… it was part of his charm.
Brian took his shoes off one at a time, pouring the sand out of one before removing the other. He glared up at Justin as the sand poured out as if it was all his fault that it had gotten in his shoes in the first place. Of course, if he’d just taken them off when Justin told him to, he wouldn’t be having that little problem.
Justin crossed his arms again and swung his foot back and forth in the sand, letting it squish between his toes with each stroke. Brian pulled his socks off, beat them against his leg, rolled the socks up into a ball and shoved them into the toe of his shoes.
“Are you done?” Justin asked.
As he vigorously brushed off his pant legs again, Brian looked up. His hands slowed to a stop as the sight caught him off-guard. Justin… cargo pants… rolled up… bare feet… and now… no shirt and he was kicking the sand! He stared, unsure whether to rejoice in the fact that the vision was as beautiful in reality as it had been in his dream or throw up and run screaming from the apparent “fate” of the situation. It was just a coincidence. Damn it!
“Brian?” Justin said, pulling him from his thoughts.
Brian went back to brushing the rest of the sand off. “We’re not frolicking on the fucking beach, Justin!”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything about frolicking. Jeez, Brian.”
“No, but you were thinking it.” Brian was sure of it. It sure as hell wasn’t his own influence making him dream such bullshit. It was all Justin’s fault.
“I was not. I just wanted to know if you were done so I can sit down with you.”
Oh. Well, okay then. That was safe. Brian opened his legs and held his hand up. Justin took it and turned around, sitting down in front of Brian, in between his legs. He leaned back against Brian’s chest with his head on Brian’s shoulder and wrapped Brian’s arms around him. And once again, he was filled with the smell of sea air, the sound of circling seagulls, the echo of crashing waves, and the feel of the ocean breeze. He sighed. “Ah, isn’t it beautiful here?”
Brian looked around trying to find the beauty of which Justin spoke about. Several guys in small swimsuits were walking behind them. They were beautiful, that was for sure. Justin craned his neck around to see what Brian was looking at. “Not them. The ocean.”
Brian huffed. “Beats a back alley in the middle of winter back in the Pitts.” Justin elbowed him. “What?”
“Can’t you be serious?”
“Justin, I am being serious.” Brian brushed the hair off Justin’s forehead. Gently caressing it then tilted Justin’s head to his lips and kissed his forehead. “Once you get a taste of this, who would ever want to go back to the doom and gloom of Pittsburgh?”
Justin pulled free and twisted around in Brian’s arms so they were facing each other and locked his eyes on Brian’s. He placed his hands on both sides of Brian’s face and kissed him. “Me.”
Brian rolled his eyes and looked away but Justin tapped his cheek to pull his gaze back. “Brian… me.”
Brian pulled his lips into his mouth and nodded. He really did want to believe it.
Then it finally occurred to Justin why Brian had been so reluctant to see and experience all that Los Angeles had to offer. He didn’t want to know how much better Rage was than Babylon. He didn’t want to see how great the weather was. He didn’t want to hear about the things that were better here than back home. But Brian had forgotten one crucial thing that the dull and dreary Pitts offered Justin that the bright and shiny California couldn’t… Brian.
Justin squirmed back around and leaned against him, staring out at the beauty of the vast ocean. The wind whipped their hair and a chill ran over his bare chest. He tightened Brian’s arms around him and thought about how he could say it so that Brian would understand. “You know what, Brian?”
“Mmmm.”
“There’s something to be said about those back alleys back home, in the middle of winter with snow on the ground and puffs of hot breath rolling out of your mouth.”
“It fucking sucks?”
“No. Bare ass against the freezing cold bricks while a warm, hot mouth sucks on your dick. That’s an amazing feeling. And you just can’t find that here.” Brian just huffed even though he knew exactly what Justin was saying and it had nothing to do with a back alley blow job in the middle of winter. “I am coming home, Brian.” Brian didn’t respond but Justin was pretty sure that he had heard him because his arms tightened around him and that was enough.
They sat on the beach for a while, not talking, just soaking it all in. The rolling waves, the swooping birds, a few waders and some scantily-clad well-muscled beach bums gave them plenty to gawk at. Brian eventually tired of the scene and laid back, pulling Justin with him, who twisted around and stretched out on top of him.
Justin looked down at Brian and licked his lips. Brian watched the magenta tongue as it poked out and swept across the plump bottom lip until he was unable to resist any longer and lifted his head up to capture it, sucking it inside, massaging it with his own tongue. And before he knew what had happened, they were making out on the beach without a care in the world and without any regard as to who might be watching them. Everything just vanished and it was just the two of them inside a black void… no sound, no nothing. Just lips upon lips and tongues playing with tongues.
One little grind of Justin’s hips bumped their cocks together and solicited a moan out of Brian. It was that soft, muffled noise that made him once again hear the churning water, squawking birds, far away laughter and chattering of passersby. He pulled away, laying his head back in the sand with a hrmphf and a groan. He closed his eyes as to not look at the face of the person breathing above him.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Justin asked, brushing his fingers along Brian’s cheek.
“No,” Brian answered flatly.
“That movie…”
Brian almost choked. “And I don’t want to know,” he quickly added to interrupt him. And he really didn’t. The fear that the movie that Justin was about to name would end up being some really old WWII film or some silly musical was just too great to risk it and Brian didn’t think he could take another strange coincidence. They were already adding up to insurmountable numbers, jabbing at him from all different sides. It had to be the sea air.
Justin crinkled his nose and he squirmed upward so he could reattach himself to Brian’s mouth. If he couldn’t tell him what it reminded him of, he could certainly show him. But Brian stopped his ascent with firm grips on his shoulders.
“What?” Justin asked and Brian opened his eyes.
Swollen, shiny, wet lips were right there for the taking. Just a fraction of an inch separated them. Shit. His cock hardened in response to Justin’s movements. Brian so badly wanted to roll them over, kiss him some more and grind against him. No. He couldn’t… wouldn’t. He pushed Justin off of him and plopped back down on the sand with a groan. He heard a faint chuckle and he shifted his eyes to the side with a pointed, arched brow. Justin was looking at him as well out of the corner of his eye and was sporting a grin. The little shit knew he had gotten to him.
“If you start singing, I’m leaving,” Brian threatened.
Justin scrunched his eyebrows and turned his head to look at Brian completely. “Huh?” He didn’t know why in the world Brian would think he’d start singing. The man had obviously gone certifiably nuts.
Brian didn’t explain himself, he just laid there trying to regain his composure and remind his dick that this was not the time nor the place for one of their exhibitionistic adventures. He absolutely, positively was not going to act out that stupid dream! Just a few more deep breaths and he’d be fine. He tried to concentrate on awful, horrible things and not the smooth skin on Justin’s back or the rounded flair to his ass or the brightness of his eyes when he smiled or those lips… those swollen, shiny, wet lips. No. Stop it. He growled and tried again as Justin grinned up at the sunshine poking through white puffy clouds. Awful, horrible things. Ellen DeGeneres. Rosie O’Donnell. Brian coughed. Oh, well that worked.
“Brian?” Justin asked in his sweet sexy voice.
Shit. Brian didn’t look… didn’t answer. Ellen. Rosie. Melanie!
“Brian?” Same fucking voice.
“Fuck! What?” Brian growled at him.
Justin jerked in surprise and his stomach growled in return. “I’m hungry,” he answered meekly.
Brian laughed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. That was the best thing he’d ever heard, and it was sure to get them off this nightmare of a beach. “Fuck. Why didn’t you say so?”
Justin laughed as well. “I was gonna tell you that we only have ten minutes before our lunch reservation but you looked so peaceful laying there with your eyes closed, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
That made Brian laugh harder. Peaceful? He had a fucking war going on inside his head. Wait. Reservation? He sat up abruptly and stared at Justin. “Reservation? What reservation?”
“Lunch at Marina Del Rey.” Justin stood up and brushed the sand off his arms, back, butt and pant legs. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Little shit. He knew damn well he didn’t tell him. “No.” Brian stood up. “You didn’t tell me.” He playfully smacked Justin upside the head and Justin batted his arm away as he tried to dodge it. “You know I have to leave at 4:00, right? I don’t want to waste a bunch of time driving all over Los Angeles. Why don’t we find some little hole in the wall diner or better yet, let’s fuck in the limo then eat at the airport.”
Justin gave him one of those I’m disappointed in you looks. “Brian, the restaurant’s right there.” Justin pointed off to the north, a few buildings up and perched on a hill... a building with huge windows all along the back side. “We’re already in Marina Del Rey.” Justin moved his outstretched arm out a little and laughed. “See the marina.”
Sure as shit. Big marina. Right fucking there. How come Brian didn’t notice it before? “I’d still rather fuck in the limo and eat at the airport.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Last chance to ride on the Brian Express.”
“You are so weird,” Justin said shaking his head and picking up his shirt. He shook it out, blowing sand everywhere.
“Hey!” Brian yelled and yanked the shirt out of his hands. “Christ! Let me do it!”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re in charge of my wardrobe now.”
“Fuck you.”
Justin grinned as he watched Brian smack and pound and brush all the sand off of his shirt. “Thanks, dear,” he slurred.
Brian rolled his eyes and held the brushed-off shirt against Justin’s chest until he grabbed it. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Let’s go eat.” He bent over, picked up his shoes and trodded off. His hips sashaying a little as he quickly marched uphill through the sand, eager to get the hell off that beach and away from the crashing waves with their fish shit and the chirping birds with their randomly falling bombs. He briskly ran his fingers through his hair as he shook his head vigorously to get all the sand out. He slapped the back of his neck. Oh yeah… and the beautiful beach with its damn sand fleas. Justin would owe him. A lot.
Justin put on his shirt, brushed the sand out of his own hair and jogged to catch up with Brian to return to the limo for his shoes and socks. Once they had removed all the sand and spiffed themselves up the best they could in the back of the car, Shane drove them down the street to the restaurant. They were escorted in and seated at a quaint table for two at one of the huge windows overlooking the marina and all the big, fucking massive yachts and sailboats.
“Wow,” Justin exclaimed, having the same reaction as he did during their lunch at Spago’s... wide-eyed excitement.
Brian almost chuckled as he watched Justin admire the view and all the fancy boats. He decided that they really should go out more often. Going out to eat at a restaurant was not supposed to be as big a deal as Justin kept making them out to be. It was almost pathetic. And Brian thought… when was the last time that they’d done that and he couldn’t think of a one. Had he really never been out to eat with Justin other than at the diner? In three years? That wasn’t almost pathetic. It was pathetic. Fuck.
Brian told Justin to order for them both so he just sat back and watched as Justin studied the menu. And he wondered… why hadn’t Justin ever said anything? Why hadn’t he ever pushed the issue? He pushed the thoughts from his mind. He didn’t want to spend his last few hours with Justin trying to analyze their relationship or why Justin put up with him. He actually didn’t want to spend those last few hours sitting in a restaurant either but there he was anyway, and it wasn’t that bad.
After Justin ordered, he glanced over at Brian and found him staring at him with one of those “proud of you” smirks. All he did was order… hardly something that Brian should be proud of him for doing successfully. Justin grinned back and nudged Brian’s foot under the table. One of Brian’s eyebrows went up in response and Justin smiled bigger.
“Okay,” Justin started, scooting his butt back in the chair and leaning forward on the table. “Tell me about everyone back home. All the details.”
Brian sighed but he told him everything he wanted to know. He answered every question seriously and only occasionally threw in a snarky remark. Justin was impressed. Even after the food was delivered, he continued to answer questions and offer thoughts as they ate. Justin thought it was not only nice to hear about his pseudo family but it was also really nice to just be sitting there like that with Brian… like a date. After their empty plates were taken away, he sat back with his third mimosa and smiled.
“Is Sunshine getting a tad tipsy?” Brian grinned at him.
“Maybe,” came the answer. Justin couldn’t quit smiling.
Brian shook his head. “It’s the bubbles. Champagne can knock you on your ass. Of course if your ass lands on my dick then you have no problem.”
Justin laughed.
“But you might want to wait until we’re back in the car.”
“Umm, yeah. Of course,” Justin agreed. “Brian?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you realize that since you’ve been here, we‘ve gone out to eat twice?”
Uh-oh. Damn those fucking bubbles. Well shit. “Give the boy a gold star.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Anywaaaay… and that is exactly two times more than we’ve ever gone out to eat before. Why is that?”
“We were hungry?”
“How come you don’t ask me out to eat when we’re back home?”
“I didn’t ask you out here either. You dragged me here against my will.”
“Because you don’t do dates…”
Oh, right. That’s why he’d never gone out to eat with Justin. Hmm. Well that’s stupid. They could go out to eat. No big deal. Oh wait… Brian remembered, he did ask Justin out… once. Got turned down. That had taken a lot of guts to break that rule for Justin and ask him out and he turned him down. It hurt. No way was he ever going to do that again. But that was then. He guessed it didn’t really matter that much now.
“True. I don’t do dates. But this isn’t really a date. This is just us eating at a restaurant.”
“Like being on a date.” Justin grinned.
Brian laughed. “What is it with you and having to label everything all the time?”
Justin shook his head. “You’re the label queen, Brian. Not me.”
Brian cleared his throat. “Well, if this is what you want to call a date, then fine. But it’s pointless to discuss really. I asked you to go out to eat once and you turned me down flat. Had other plans, you said. So why would I ask you again? I’m not a glutton for punishment, you know. You obviously weren’t interested.”
“Oh my God! You asked me ONE time. And that ONE time I was busy.”
“Yeah, too busy being the Secret Avenger and undermining my client’s campaign to go out to eat with your boyfriend.”
“Whatever, that’s beside the point. You couldn’t ask me again? Because I said no the first time you asked me? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? The great Brian Kinney was told no so you go and pout in the corner?”
“Fuck you, Justin. I don’t pout.” That hurt. But shit if he wasn’t right. That was exactly what Brian had thought.
“And if I recall correctly, at the time you weren’t my boyfriend, you were just the guy that fucked me more than once.”
Well, that really hurt. Brian stared at him and Justin stared right back. Silence.
Brian cleared his throat, gulped down the rest of his drink and glanced at his watch. It was 2:00. Almost time for them to head to the airport so he wouldn’t miss his flight. His stomach tightened up and he felt this pressure on his chest.
“Well, in the future,” his voice raspy so he cleared his throat again. “I wouldn’t be adverse to asking you to join me at eating in a restaurant.”
“Really,” Justin said. His face blank and void of emotion.
“Really.”
“Well, in the future,” he paused for dramatic effect. “If you were to ask me to do such a thing, I probably wouldn’t object.”
“Good to know.”
“How much time do we have?” Justin asked, changing the subject.
“Just enough for a quickie.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even on a Sunday afternoon the Los Angeles traffic was horrific. Bumper to bumper, they inched along the expressway to LAX. Justin sat next to the window, his left hand resting in the seat beside his thigh, right elbow on the door’s armrest and his hand tucked under his chin holding his head up. He was watching all the cars and palm trees and tall buildings go by at a snail’s pace. Brian sat watching Justin on the opposite side of the limo. He didn’t want to leave and if the sporadic sniffles were any indication, he could tell Justin didn’t want him to and was turning more and more melancholy as each mile marker on the side of the road changed numbers. Brian reached his hand over the seat and wrapped his fingers around Justin’s hand, squeezing hard and not letting go. Justin’s eyes closed and without opening them, he turned and covered the distance between them in flash, ending up on Brian’s lap, legs straddling Brian’s thighs, arms wrapped around Brian’s shoulders and face buried in Brian’s neck.
Now it was Brian’s turn to squeeze his eyes shut and he reciprocated Justin’s embrace, wrapping his long arms around Justin’s small waist. This was worse than their trip to the Pittsburgh airport when Justin left three months ago. Back then, they didn’t know how the distance and missing each other would feel… this time, they did and they weren’t looking forward to it.
Things had been good these last few days and he didn’t want to end it on a sad note. Brian had to turn things around and quickly. His hands rubbed up and down Justin’s back then slipped under his shirt to get one last feel of his smooth skin.
Justin released his tight embrace and brought his lips to meet Brian’s. A soft lingering kiss at first then as if he suddenly had switched gears, he placed his hands on either side of Brian’s face, pushed his head back against the seat, lifted up on his knees and the kiss turned deep and hungered, almost forceful and in search of something. His tongue swept over teeth and gums and swirled around inside Brian’s mouth. He sniffed again into the kiss and his face scrunched up as he tried to hold back all of his emotions. A labored moan gurgled from his throat and if by coincidence they both opened their eyes at the same time, locking instantly on each other. Justin’s blue eyes wet and shiny… Brian’s hazel ones sad but sparkled and Justin wondered if Brian’s eyes were tearing up like his or if Brian’s just looked wet because his were.
Justin broke the kiss and they panted in each other’s face. He sat back to get a better look, his eyes darting back and forth from Brian’s right eye to left eye.
Brian cleared his throat, nervous from Justin’s scrutiny then grinned. “Tryin’ for that quickie now?”
Justin huffed a faint laugh and pressed his forehead against Brian’s. “Actually, no,” he answered and Brian arched an eyebrow. “I’d rather our last fuck was the one in my office.”
“Ahhh,” Brian murmured, pulling his lips in and nodding in agreement.
“That’s the one I want to be left with. You know, I can still feel you… right… fucking… there.” Justin pivoted his hips in sync with his words, moving his ass over Brian’s groin just like Brian had moved inside him earlier.
Brian’s breath hitched and his eyes closed. “Fuck. You’re gonna put me on that plane with a hard-on and no means of release.”
Justin kept moving his hips and placing light kisses on Brian’s mouth. “Mmm-hmm.” He kissed across his cheek to his ear. Took a playful bite on his earlobe and whispered, “I want you to jerk-off in that tiny bathroom, thinking of me and my mouth sucking your cock.”
Brian grabbed his hips and stilled them. “You’re evil. Stop.”
“I’m sweet,” Justin replied with a smirk and a laugh.
It was his normal laugh but in Brian’s mind it sounded more like an evil cackle from an evil blond-haired twink and he envisioned Justin with squinty eyes, rubbing his hands together as he cast his evil spell. The really sad part for Brian was, whether it was all in his mind or not, power of suggestion or not, he knew damn well he wouldn’t even be thirty minutes into the flight before he was heading to the bathroom to do just what Justin had wanted. The little shit.
Pushing the thoughts of wicked Justin from his mind, Brian tilted his head up and kissed him. He needed lots of kisses to get him through the next twelve weeks and he didn’t want to waste any more of their final minutes with silly banter. The rest of the way to the airport, they kissed and touched each other. It wasn’t about sex, even though Justin’s hips continued to move around in tiny circles and Brian’s hands continued to roam on bare skin. They were really just trying to get their fill.
“We’re pulling into the airport, Sirs,” Shane informed them over the intercom.
Justin pulled away from the kiss and resumed his earlier position when he first climbed onto Brian’s lap… arms around shoulders, thighs squeezing thighs, face buried in neck flesh. Brian patted his back and pulled back a little. “Hey.”
Justin let go and sat back in his seat on his own side of the car. Brian grabbed his hand again tightly and they were right back where they started. Justin took a deep breath and looked over at Brian. An obviously pained smile on his lips. Brian’s lips curled inward. Fuck.
The limo rolled to a stop in front of the departure zone and Justin’s hand made its way to the door handle. Brian pulled on his hand that was still clasped inside his… “You’re not getting out.”
“Huh?” Justin looked at him confused.
“You’re staying in here. We’re not having another ultra-dramatic and overly maudlin Casablanca farewell scene like we had back in the Pitts. I’m getting out and you’re leaving. End of story.”
“But…” Justin started to protest but stopped when Brian looked at him pointedly. He smiled instead and nodded his head.
Brian leaned over and kissed him quickly on the lips, pressing his forehead against Justin’s with a sigh.
“Call me when you get home?” Justin asked.
“Yeah.” Brian pulled back and kissed him again, his lips lingering just a little longer this time. Getting lost in the feeling of the softness until a loud series of thumps startled them both and they jumped. A security guard pounded on the trunk to get their attention and when they looked out the window, he waved his hand for them to get a move on. “Let’s go,” the uniformed man yelled after blowing his whistle.
“Christ! People are assholes,” Brian barked.
“Ohhhh,” Justin moaned, not wanting the moment that had arrived to be over with yet. His fingers squeezed against Brian’s, not letting him go.
Brian kissed the back of Justin’s hand and pried his hand free with a smirk. Justin couldn’t help but smirk in return. “Okay, later,” Brian said as he opened the door. He paused until Justin said it back then he got out and shut the door.
He took his bags from Shane and made his way to the sidewalk. “Have a safe trip, Sir,” Shane said as he walked away.
Brian just nodded and stood there watching Shane get back into the limo. He took a deep breath and as the car pulled away he started to feel this weird feeling in his chest. He was sad but he wasn’t really worried anymore. He had accomplished what he thought he needed to. And oddly enough the thought that Conner James was a threat no longer bothered him. He wasn’t sure why.
He didn’t really know what he was feeling, it was confusing, because even though he felt sad, he also felt good.
And again, he wasn’t sure why.
Then the music pierced through his thoughts. An instrumental elevator version of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. What the fuck was the deal with California anyway. The Gods of fate were trying desperately to knock him over the head with something. But he didn’t need all those signs or whatever the fuck they were, or maybe he had. He already knew or maybe he hadn’t. But he did know now and he thought maybe that was the overall purpose of his trip and it hadn’t been about Conner James at all. It had been about him… and Justin… and what they felt for each other. To know it… to feel it… to believe in it.
He loved Justin and Justin loved him and nothing or no one was going to change that or interfere with that. No three thousand miles, no six- month separation and no big-time movie star. Nothing. Justin was coming home to him. He’d said so. And Brian knew it now. And believed it.
Just a measly ninety-one days to go. Not long at all.
Yep, everything Brian needed to accomplish with his trip had been accomplished. He turned around and walked into the airport with a very satisfied smile on his face, a feeling of fullness and security in his heart and a tightening in his groin. He would kill Justin for planting the idea that he jerk off in the airplane’s bathroom. The little shit. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.