Elucidation: Waltz - Part 2
Title: Elucidation: Waltz Part Two
Author Name: randyandgale Thank you to LIZ for the beta job!
Author Email:morgansrandy@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 (To be safe for this series)
Warnings: Unsafe sex (sometimes) Spoilers, Cannon, Post 513
Notes: Elucidation means: to clarify or to throw light upon-
This will be a collection of two part fics. Each with their own title, one part from Brian’s P.O.V. and one from Justin’s P.O.V. exploring the what if’s and giving substance to the many gaps in the Queer as Folk series related to events in Brian and Justin’s lives while trying to hold onto the characterization and original storyline. The only ones that will be without the precise cannon series will be listed as post 513
(Summary for Waltz-Part Two: (I was sure there had to be some sort of brand upon my exterior that would cement these changes. But there wasn’t, and that confused me.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but wish I did
Elucidation: Waltz Part Two
Fuck. I have no idea why it all came back to me today. Today was a day like any other. Brian woke me up with a routine blowjob. Before I could even come down from that orgasm, he was lubing my ass and sliding inside me for our morning fuck. I made plans to call him at my lunch hour to tell him what grades I received for my final projects of the fall semester’s classes, discussed dinner plans, we wished each other luck and then I was out the door. I got in the jeep, drove to school, collected all my grades, made the call to Brian to tell him I’d aced all my projects and headed home.
Contrary to what Brian likes to think, Britin isn’t only a half hour from Pittsburgh. We live about a ten-minute’s drive from Cheat Neck, West Virgina. Once outside of the Pitts it’s about a forty-five minute drive. So, unless you go ninety the whole way, which I’ve finally convinced Brian to stop doing, it’s an hour and twenty minute drive.
I usually do the grocery shopping in Cheat Neck. Brian seems to think that I always shop at the Giant Eagle in the Pitts, but that’s only for stuff that isn’t frozen or cold. Usually I go to this small grocery store that Penny, our housekeeper told me about. They have a great bakery and deli there and beside the store is this little open market where an old Italian man rolls out fresh pasta dough. I’d planned on going out there after I stopped by Britin to drop off my school stuff and grab my wallet since I’d left it in the pants Brian tore off me last night.
I parked in front of the house and had just closed the door and made my first crunching step in the snow when I felt a wave of dizziness pass through my body. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned back against the side of the jeep feeling weak from the torrents of images and feelings that burst into my brain, seeing everything behind my eyelids as if they were open, each image a steady stream of conscious action. You see, there weren’t any key words, sounds, images or smells that triggered my memories; it was all just suddenly there, enveloping me and burning into my mind a story of song that I would now never be able to forget.
These flashbacks did not incapacitate me as they had when I remembered the few short moments before Chris hit me with the bat. My heart hammered, my eyes watered and my body shook as it did then. However, this time there was no fear in my recounting of the experience. When I opened my eyes, the bright sun shining on the white snow caused me to wince but when I breathed in the cold, fresh air, I felt as though every coil of regret, pain and despair had unwound itself from the recesses buried inside my body.
A burst of uninhibited energy blasted out of my being. It sounds crazy but the only time I’d ever felt anything comparable to this was the day I married Brian and that night when we made love raw for the first time. We had to force ourselves to eat and drink. Both of us were completely ravenous and the desire never dampened. When our bodies finally forced us to sleep, once we were slightly recharged one of us woke up the other to begin the pleasure again. The sex went on and on for two days before neither one of us could physically bear another orgasm.
This same vibrancy catapulted me through the snow in footsteps I barely remember taking up to the front door. I don’t recall finding my keys, opening the door, resetting the alarm or running up the stairs to my distinct destination. I threw off my coat, scarf, hat and gloves as quickly as I could and grabbed the nearest sketchpad and pencils. My hand dashed across the pages, drawing pictures that I never believed I’d produce. I felt no pain, no shake, no disability holding me back as I tore through the memories and pages, giving life to memories that I longed for, begged for but had long ago admitted to myself that I would never possess.
But not only did I possess the images, and hear the words and music, I felt them; I owned the feelings once denied to me. Pages of description scattered around me as fast as I could create them. I could only focus on the need to draw, to experience what I yearned to know for years. The traumatic sponge inside my mind somehow triggered, squeezed, and I gave myself entirely to the tears of remembrance that flowed from it.
I created for hours, unceasing, seeming to breathe in time with the strokes of my pencils. The world outside of the space in my studio was on hold. I didn’t hear Brian get home. Though I’d been thinking of him, of us, for hours, I hadn’t been thinking of him in the present time. He barked my name, startling me out of my revere and creation.
All of my confidence and drive seemed to drain out of me when I saw him. He seemed to be confused and a little annoyed with me until I told him. Well, I’m sure how I told him wasn’t exactly clear but my mind was still fuzzy and reeling. I fumbled over my words when I spoke. It was obviously the last thing he was expecting to hear, just as it was the last thing in the world I thought I’d regain into memory. Wetness on my cheeks, in my eyes gave solidity to the abandoned loss and demanded the escalation of our bond.
The coloring of his skin paled, validating my recollections. More than that, his words, the expression on his face as he looked at me gave me even greater understanding of those no longer missing moments. I’ve loved Brian for a long time. We’ve been shitty and we’ve done some of the shittiest things to one another during the time we’ve known each other. But remembering everything made all of those pains disappear.
I became giddy with happiness, newfound completion and love. This translated into us both pawing at each other in desperation for expression without barriers. When his tongue and lips trailed over my bumpy, now barely visible scar, it awoke a different round of emotions within us both.
I lead Brian out of the studio and down the hall to our room.
“Get undressed,” I whispered, dropping his hand once we entered the room. He looked at me nervously for just a minute before doing as I asked.
I went into the bathroom to wash my face of the tears, took a piss and discarded my dirty clothes in my hamper. I looked at myself in the large mirror. I didn’t look any different than I had that morning. Fuck. I sure felt different. I still looked young, but I no longer held onto the teenager that for so long inhabited my features. I stared into my own eyes, the focus blurring in and out, as I did so. I blinked and opened my eyes again and again, but still, nothing had changed.
“You alright?” Brian asked, peeking into the bathroom.
I looked back into the mirror as I answered him, “Just looking…”
I expected a sarcastic retort from him concerning my vanity, as if he was anyone to talk, but he said nothing. He just walked behind me and put his arms around me, clasping his hands in mine. His naked body pressed up against mine, his patiently hard cock rested against my ass, his chin propped on my shoulder our cheeks pressed together as he stared at me in the mirror.
“I thought I’d look different,” I whisper. It’s stupid I know. But I did. For some reason I expected some piece of me to have changed on the outside because I felt as though every fucking thing inside me had changed, drastically. I was sure there had to be some sort of brand upon my exterior that would cement these changes. But there wasn’t, and that confused me.
“You look the same as you did when I met you,” his quiet voice resonates, tickling my ear.
I scrunch my face up and focus my gaze onto him. He’s so fucking beautiful. Honestly, Brian has gotten better looking with every year. Every muscle in his body, toned to perfection. There are no lines on his face or grey in his hair. Whereas I merely fell out of the awkward teenager body and into an awkward adult’s body. I know I’m not ugly, and with the way Brian and countless other men and women look at me, I know I’m good looking. I know I have desirable assets but I’m not so sure that I’ll ever look as effortlessly beautiful as Brian does.
“Stop,” he whispers. As nit-picky, as he is regarding his appearance my own doubt or want for change in me has always bothered him.
I stare wide-eyed in the mirror at him as he drops my hands and skims his up along my chest and then ever so gently strokes the sides of my face, “Why would you want to see a difference?”
My eyelids flutter and then close until he tells me to open them and I look at myself once again. I stare at myself and then I look at not only him, but the both of us. We are beautiful together. Forgive me for being cheesy, but I see what he’s saying, what he’d never say aloud. It isn’t just our physical beauty that makes our reflection so enticing and there’s no reason why I should look different. He says I look the same as I did when we met, but that’s far from being true. At least to me, but I suppose he’ll always see me as that teenager who loves him without fail. I suppose that isn’t a bad thing really.
“You’re Justin Kinney,” he singsongs, smiling at me.
I roll my eyes and turn around to face him; I’ve had all the reflection I need today. Now I need presence. I smile at him, feeling my heartbeat quicken and renew my confidence, in my love for him and even myself.
We go back into the bedroom and I lie down on the bed. He stands beside me, watching as I spread my legs and grab the lube he’d placed on the mattress. I hand it to him, “What are you waiting for?”
His eyes darken and he shakes his head, smirking as he gets in bed with me.
I lift myself up onto my elbows and watch as he lubes three of his fingers on his left hand. “Brian,” I warn him, seeing the metal of his ring, slick and gleaming. “Take off your ring first.” I never thought about it before but I don’t think he’s ever fingered me with his left hand, at least not since we’ve been married.
“It’s permanently stuck there Justin,” he tells me, moving his thumb back and forth on the ring. “Don’t worry. I won’t loose it inside your ass and if I do I’ll just have to go looking for it.”
I laugh at him but my laugh turns into a long moan as all three of the tips of his slick fingers tap at my entrance. I stare at him when he looks up at me, still smirking, fucker.
“Don’t worry I’m not gonna shove them all in at once,” while he says this he applies pressure to my hole and swirls his fingers around, alighting my nerve endings.
I collapse onto my back and breathe out a sigh, “Just put something inside me.”
He waits until I take a deep breath and relax my body before one of his fingers glide inside me. I keep my eyes closed because already I feel as though I could come. The sexual urgency has caught me a little off guard. I was fine when I laid down on the bed, but as soon as he touched me, my insides coiled in ache for him and my cock started to drip steady pre-cum as though it were incased in his fist instead of just begging for touch.
Finally, his third finger, his ring finger enters me and the cool metal brushes against the rim of my hole, creating a wild sensation against it. I open my eyes and reach my hands down as I spread and lift my legs more. “I want you inside me now Brian,” I plead, looking into his watery eyes.
I hook my legs onto his shoulders, feeling my muscles burn with the stretch as his fingers slide out of me. He moves onto his knees, my ass resting a little on top of them as he palms his cock with his wet fingers and aligns himself up with my stretched entrance. The head of his cock comes into me smoothly and we both moan at the feeling.
“Put your legs around my waist,” his voice is breathy.
I move my legs and hook my ankles together around his back. He puts his arms beside my head and then leans down, filling me as I arch my ass up into him and pull him closer with my legs. It still stings a little, every time, and I gasp and groan into his mouth that covers mine.
His fingers tangle into my hair and he swivels his hips around, just a little, but in the same movements that his tongue laps inside my mouth. We stare at each other while we kiss and slowly start to build up our coupling into a slow, sweet, fulfilling fucking. I run my hands down his back and grab at his ass, while tightening my own around his cock.
“Just…” he moans into my mouth and then presses his lips against my neck, tongue licking and then biting me in patterned pleasure.
Our slow fuck goes on and on for a long time. Until he falls on top of me, stopping all movements, our chests pressed together, the whole weight of him surrounding me, holding us both off every time we near the edge. This happens four times before he finally just pounds into me.
We go wild, nipping, licking, kissing, grabbing at any place we know will heighten the arousal for the other. Our moans are only a little louder than the slapping sound of our bodies hitting together. Our sweat and saliva coat our over heated bodies and I keep having to wipe the sweat out of Brian’s eyes because it’s dripping so fast into them that it forces him to close them. But I don’t want him too, I want to see his eyes just as he’s about to come inside me.
I wedge my hand down between us and start to jerk myself off as he makes deliberate drags and stabs along my prostate. I want to come. I want to come. I want to see him come.
My shakes start and I see his mouth open in a silent gasp that turns into a deep growling moan and I feel the slight change in heat inside me as the first jet of his come spurts inside me. He falls on top of me, still moving his hips, my arm and hand trapped between us as my hand twists and urges my orgasm to culminate.
He bites my jaw hard, and that extra stimulation has me exploding. I loose myself, ears ringing, drowning out our cries of pleasure until every jerk of his body stops and the experience of his warm cum within my hole triggers the last of my shocks.
I can’t open my eyes, I feel like I can barely move but I do. I wedge my hand out from our bodies, wrap both of my arms around him, and turn my face into his hair, kissing and inhaling the scent of us, surrounding our lovemaking.
I tell him I love him, voice hoarse and gravelly and he returns the words, breathing them into my ear in a soft whisper of devotion.
I feel him roll over slightly, his cock pulling from my body as he does. I open my eyes, finally and I stare at him. He gives me a genuine smile and grabs the duvet, covering us both and then wrapping his arm around my waist, sharing my pillow, burying his nose in my hair.
Everything changed today. But in a way, it didn’t. I’m falling asleep the same way I did last night and the many nights before that. Only now, I don’t have that ache inside me of the unexplainable experience. I can now fall asleep, knowing that no matter what has happened in the past or will happen in Brian’s and my future, we’ll have waltzed through it all together.
End of Waltz
P.S. If you have any suggestions of story lines that would fit into this series of gapfillers and what ifs (that would not mess with events we saw in cannon) please comment with them.