Bittersweet
Author: dreamcatcher
Author's notes: The Beta channel - All darksylvia, all the time. The girl rocks. (With a little side visit to luceononuro.)
Dare: A believable Gus/Justin fic.
Warning/Rating: Explicit sex
Gus was a clean slate, untainted by Brian’s fucked-up views on love. He echoed his father, the same confident swagger, same dark hair, and same dry delivery of words in a low-timbered voice. But he was saved from hardened edges by the soft hands of Mel and Lindsey. His eyes were quick to sparkle without Brian’s trademark cynicism. His smile was spontaneous. He was young and he was beautiful.
He was also straight.
Gus had spent eighteen years in an extended family entrenched in queer culture. Any inkling of homosexuality would have been celebrated with a six-foot banner and a “Yay, You’re Gay!” shindig. So Gus was straight, with the juggling of girlfriends to prove it.
But Justin hoped.
**
It had been a shock for Justin to return to Pittsburgh and see Gus had become an adult in his absence. Years were sped up with teenagers, they flew by at a faster pace. Changes were dramatic, with growth spurts, changing voices, and maturity hard-won every day. In the years since Justin had left Brian, his visits home had been few, but when he realized three years had slipped by, he had finally come back--and found that three years for a teenager was literally a lifetime.
“Justin. They said you were back in town." Gus answered the door after a stampede of footsteps down the stairs. "Man, it’s good to see you again.”
He was a younger version of Brian, in Skechers and faded jeans. Six feet tall, with corded muscles and long legs encased in tight denim. He was still a few years away from the cat-like grace of Brian but it lurked around the edges in small touches, a head tilt here, an intense gaze there.
The longing hit like a fucking tidal wave, a full-on sensory assault, and he stumbled over his reply.
"Um, yeah, you too, Gus."
Lindsey squealed as she walked up beside Gus to grab Justin in a bear hug. "You're back!" She squeezed a little tighter. " We were wondering if you forgot about us little people."
"Never. I missed you guys too much." Justin smiled into Lindsey's hair, hanging on to the hug as long as possible.
"Don't stay away so long next time. Then you won't miss us." She grinned and grabbed his hands to spread them wide. "And you look great, Justin. Really. Life's obviously been good to you."
It hadn't felt good.
Gus waggled his eyebrows from behind his mom, making him laugh and lightening the sadness in his chest, and Justin made his decision in an instant. He spun a sad tale of mixed-up room reservations, begged a place to stay from Lindsey, and made a note to call the hotel later to cancel his room.
He would get charged for the room anyway but it didn’t matter. He was staying with Gus.
“Gus, take his bag up to the attic. Then you, Mister,” she pointed to Justin, “get your butt back down here. I want to hear everything about your shows.” With that stern warning, Justin followed Gus up the stairs. Gus threw himself on the bed and stretched his arms behind his head while Justin unpacked. For Justin, sleeping in new places was routine. Clothes shoved into a closet, a travel alarm clock set on the nightstand, everything in its place. But it felt different with Gus there. He was conscious of every move.
“I missed you, Gus. You’ve grown at least a foot.”
“You haven’t.” Gus stuck out his tongue and Justin laughed.
“Smart-alec.” Justin flung a pair of underwear at his head and awkwardness fell away in an instant.
Gus dragged the underwear off his head and threw them on the floor then leaned forward eagerly. “There’s so much to tell you. Did you know I’m going to Dartmouth in the fall? I can’t wait. I love the moms but it’s time to get out of this place, you know? I bet you couldn’t wait to blow this burg.”
The innocent words scraped like sandpaper. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He had been forced. It was either leave or hit the bottom of a long fall that would shatter him to pieces. Brian’s cliffs were high, and Justin knew he wouldn’t survive another push. It had taken cancer to finally break Brian, but when he broke, he broke hard.
Justin could tell the exact moment Brian gave up. He woke one morning and the light was gone. His eyes blank, his body language reserved. No more joking with Michael. No more snarking at Ted. No more whispered words in bed. Just a scary blandness punctuated by impersonal conversation.
Justin tried to fix him. It was what he did. Pick up the pieces and glue them back together, piece by piece, with the consummate patience of an artist, but there was no trick in his arsenal left, no magic spell to fix things. He’d drawn Brian out the first time because there was a crack in the shell, but the cancer sealed that crack with industrial-strength glue.
So Justin left. He spent fourteen years running from pain and hiding from hurtful memories. He dated some, though never for long, and never for love--at least not the real thing. They were only sad imitations, met with a dimmed smile that no longer matched a nickname long since discarded.
And Justin longed.
But now was not the time, and this was not the person, for pulling out old wounds and showing scars.
“Sure, Gus. I couldn’t wait. It’s a big world, right?”
If Gus heard anything wrong in his words, he let it slip by without comment. “You’ll have to tell me about everything. Tonight. We can bunk down like kids in the dark and tell stories with a flashlight. Bring back your forgotten youth.” Gus held a pretend flashlight under his chin and his grin was contagious. Sunshine spread through Justin’s smile for the first time in far too long and he wondered why he had ever stayed away.
“You’re on.” He stretched out a hand to pull Gus off the bed and tossed an easy arm around him as they headed for the stairs. “Let’s check in with your moms and get the inquisition over with. I’m sure they have a million questions for me.”
So he met with Mel and Linds, and then onto his Mom, who dabbed at suspiciously wet eyes. Her new husband was nice but conversation was stilted, so it was relief to leave the restrained emotions and polite conversation behind and pick up Gus on the way to Deb’s. Walking into Deb’s was like finally coming home, the same gaudy flowered couch, the same clown figurines on the shelf, and emotions laid out bare for everyone to grab hold of.
“Sunshine!” A smothering hug then a soft thwap upside his head. “Don’t you ever stay away that long again, you hear me?” She wagged her finger in his face.
He hadn’t smiled this much in years. “I love you too, Deb.”
She hollered over her shoulder. “Carl! Sunshine’s here. Get your ass down here!” She grabbed his arm and finally saw Gus behind him. “Gus. Holy shit. I feel like a queen today. Well, not that kind of queen.” She winked and gave a few enthusiastic chews of her gum. “Come in, the rest of the gang will be here soon. Want some spaghetti?”
The evening was an exhilarating game of ‘catch-up’ as all of the old gang stopped in for visits, coming and going as their schedule with kids and businesses allowed, but Gus stayed always nearby, soaking up his stories with jealous eyes and the big dreams of youth, bursting to follow in Justin’s footsteps. Brian didn’t stop by at all.
And Justin hurt.
Finally, he was able to pry free from loving arms and sloppy kisses. Lord, how he missed them all. He regretted the time he’d spent away, avoiding Brian, nursing wounds that would never close. Visiting with friends helped. The wounds were still there, but they were smaller, no longer gaping. But now he was getting tired and ready to retreat to his bed for some peace and quiet. And a night of stories with Gus.
They tiptoed up the stairs and Gus closed the door to the attic behind them. He pulled out a joint as they plopped onto the bed.
“You look like you need this.”
Justin laughed and took the joint with relief. “You have no idea. Your dad taught you well.” And the memory dimmed the laugh on his lips. He lit the joint with shaking hands and closed his eyes to concentrate on the harsh taste invading his lungs, holding it as long as possible before opening his eyes and exhaling, to find Gus staring at him in concern.
“I heard the stories. About you and Dad, I mean. I’m sorry.”
Justin passed the joint back and felt a quick brush of fingertips. “It’s okay, Gus. It was a long time ago.” Meaningless platitudes, oft-repeated denials, said so often they were almost becoming true.
“What was he like back then? Can you tell me?” There was no way Justin could deny him. He knew what it felt like, the need to dig for any small information about Brian. It’s only snooping if they make you, right?
He gave Gus a searching look, memorizing the shape of his face, different enough from Brian’s to have its own distinct beauty but still enough like his father for Justin to become hard. He was thankful he still wore the same baggy khakis after all these years.
“I tell you what.” He kept his eyes glued to Gus’ face. “I’ll tell you about Brian then, if you tell me about Brian now.”
When Gus finally nodded his assent, Justin let out a relieved breath. It would be good to talk about it, to let it out. Finally.
“You go first. Tell me. About what he was like back then,” Gus said. “Please.” The word was soft but Justin recognized the emotion behind it. Feelings for Brian did that to you, they fucked you over.
So Justin began to talk. Words spilled out. Good times. Bad times. Award-winning fights and even better make-up sex. Gus didn’t flinch about any of the sex parts. And there were lots in Justin’s stories. It was who they were. Sex and adrenaline, high emotions and higher drugs, passion and pain braided together into one. And it felt liberating to dig out old memories he had shoved so far back in his mind.
“Birthdays,” Justin said with a sharp laugh, “you never knew what would happen with Brian and birthdays. For a guy who claimed he didn’t celebrate them, he sure had his moments. You just held your breath and waited for the blow-out.”
Gus leaned back on his elbows and stared across the room so Justin kept talking.
“The first year I knew him, for Uncle Mikey’s birthday, he threw this huge party, no expense spared, to give Michael the best night of his life. Then he brought the whole thing crashing down around him just to push him away. For his own good." A disgusted laugh. "The bastard was good at that, Gus, playing the martyr. You wouldn’t believe how good."
Gus finally met his eyes with shared commiseration, and just the slightest touch of frump. "The bastard’s still good at that."
They both sat quietly for a moment before Justin continued. “But, Gus, it wasn’t all bad. I remember Brian’s 30th birthday. At first, it wasn’t so good. He blew everyone off and fucked himself up with too much booze, and um, dangerous behavior,” a quick look out of the corner of his eye, “but then he turned around and showed up at my prom. He was like a fucking yo-yo. A sexy, exasperating yo-yo. You never knew what to expect.” Words said through a smile.
The memories didn’t hurt like he feared they would. There was good and there was bad, but the good fucking blew the bad away.
"The next year, we were at your birthday, Gus. You were just turning one. I had a bad memory. From the prom." He knew Gus had heard the story of how the prom ended but he glossed over that part quickly. "I panicked. But Brian…he was so strong. He threw his arms around me and rocked me and murmured in my ear to calm me down. Then he took me home and just held me. You wouldn’t believe how tender he was."
Gus was fixated on Justin’s face. “He did love you, didn’t he? They said he did, but I couldn’t believe it for sure. I see it now.”
"Yeah, he did. Fucker would never admit it," Justin laughed, "but he did." Brian Kinney gives a shit. "Just don’t tell him I said that." He gave Gus a small wink and was rewarded with a grin before Gus turned serious again.
“He’s so different now. Dad is…” he cleared his throat, “dad is cold. He doesn’t do birthdays. He may have said it then but it’s the real thing now. He hasn’t been to one of mine since I was five.”
Jesus.
“I love him though, don’t get me wrong. He’s so much bigger than life. A fucking fabulous success.” They shared a smile over the words. “But it’s like there’s no emotion. Does that make sense?”
Justin nodded but stayed silent. This was Gus’ turn. They were partners-in-arms in the war that was Brian Kinney, soldiers bonding over swapped stories while bunkered down in a foxhole.
“I’ve never seen him at a birthday party. Not even Michael’s, and they’ve been friends forever. He didn’t even show up when I turned eighteen. My fucking eighteenth birthday. The next day, a driver showed up with a brand new Toyota. It was nice. But I would have rather had him there, you know? I heard he was down at Woody’s getting plastered.”
And Justin ached.
“How did you do it, Justin? How did you make him feel? Make him love?” The question was asked almost blandly, as if it were just a throwaway question that didn’t really matter, but Justin knew what Gus was asking. And Justin couldn’t do it again. Neither could Gus. It was a dead-end. Brian was 48. Cast in stone. Burnished to a hard-rock sheen by both time and childhood traumas he could never let go.
“Gus. He…” Justin trailed off then decided on the simple truth. “Sex.” A quick laugh. “I made him love through sex. Hot, wild, mind-blowing, no-holds-barred sex. At least, at first.”
Justin felt the mattress dip as Gus edged a little closer. “I can’t imagine anything that would make Dad actually feel. But you did it. You…” The words trailed away with a searching gaze that raked Justin’s body. “I didn’t know him then. Just what he’s like now. I worry -” he paused briefly, “I worry sometimes that I’ll end up like him.”
Justin pulled Gus towards him with a small tug and Gus melted into him. “Never.” Justin rubbed his arm with simple, soothing circles, the rise and fall of Gus’ body warm against his chest. His breathing slowed to match Gus’ rhythm.
They sat, one man who loved so hard he could never love again, the other scared he’d never love at all.
Justin felt Gus’ breath speed up and regretted the intense discussion. Was it too much-- was he crying? He brought his fingers to Gus’ chin and turned his head to see his eyes, but Gus' eyes were dry. They sat quietly like that, with Justin's fingers on Gus' face, a long moment that stretched out like taffy. Then Gus leaned up to brush his lips softly against Justin's.
“Show me, Justin. Show me how you made Dad feel. Make me feel.” His voice was low and demanding as he brushed Justin’s lips again and deepened the kiss. He had obviously had his share of experience. He kissed like a dream you didn’t want interrupted, hoping you would stay asleep for just a few minutes longer so the feeling wouldn’t slip away.
“Don’t let me become like him.” Gus’ soft words ripped at Justin’s insides.
“Gus, I can’t. I don’t think -”
“You can, Justin. Sex, remember? Hot, wild, mind-blowing sex.” A slight grin, but one masking an intense need. “You did it for him. Do it for me.” Scared eyes grasping for help. “I know you can.”
This was fucked up.
This was inevitable.
“Please, Justin.”
Justin simply nodded. Fucked up or not, this was something they both needed, a connection with Brian the only way they could find it…with each other. Justin couldn’t refuse.
Gus was a Kinney through and through, and took the lead as if he fucked men every day. Justin wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but not this slow, torturous exploration. Shirt unbuttoned, first one button, then drawn-out seconds before the next. Jeans unzipped with excruciating slowness, tooth by tooth. Gus stood up to whip off his own clothes then returned to remove the rest of Justin’s with the same deliberate pace.
When they were both free of all their clothing, Gus lay back next to him and touched his chest, almost with reverence, sweeping his eyes over Justin’s naked body with an unreadable expression. He met Justin’s lips for a teasing, aching kiss that rivaled any of Brian’s.
Justin didn’t want to rush him but he was so hard he hurt. And he could see how hard Gus was. How did he exercise control like this at such a young age? Justin could only close his eyes, clench his fists at his side, and breathe deep as Gus’ fingers trailed down his chest and softly fluttered over his dick. When he felt the hand close in a fist around his cock, he bucked, then tensed his whole body, willing himself to hold still, to not scare him.
He opened his eyes at a soft breath against his cheek. “It’s okay, Justin. I want you to do it. I want to watch.” And Justin’s eyes were drawn down to those long graceful fingers stroking back and forth in an intoxicating rhythm. “Come for me, Justin.”
With those simple words and light touch, the orgasm built quickly and shot over his chest. He slumped back, willing his body back under control, then wiped himself clean with sheets and shaking hands.
“I’m sorry, Gus. It was just so-”
Soft fingers on his lips. “I feel it too. It’s… intense. It was like this with you and Dad, wasn’t it?”
Justin couldn’t respond, could only stare into his eyes.
“Do you want to touch me?” Gus asked.
Did he have to speak? He didn’t think he could. Instead he rolled Gus onto his back and worshipped his body with light touches that became progressively harder as Gus responded. Nails down his chest, followed by his tongue, fingers winding in the pubic hair, soft and springy. He walked his fingers up Gus’ cock and stroked it in return, becoming harder at the moans and gasps he pulled from Gus’ mouth. Gus was vocal. Like Brian. Justin increased his strokes wanting nothing more than to make more of those potent sounds.
He moved down the bed and placed his lips over Gus’ cock, taking in the head slowly. He slid his mouth down, relaxed and open, wetting Gus’ cock, then suctioning his lips as he stroked back up. Gus moaned as he pushed his hips up into Justin’s mouth. Another slow slide down his cock before Justin dragged his lips back to the top--long, languid sucks that sent flutters to his stomach at Gus’ reactions. He wanted to make this perfect. He swirled his tongue over the head and flicked it over the slit and was rewarded with a harsh moan.
“Stop, Justin. Stop.” Husky breath behind the words and Justin froze.
“Gus, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” Gus must have read Justin’s eyes, his fear of overstepping boundaries, and he leaned up to push Justin slowly onto his back. “Not that. Not stop entirely.” His laugh was shaky. “I don’t think I could stop now if I tried.” His fingernails made light tracks over Justin’s body. “I want to wait until I’m inside you. Can I?” Eyes swept his for permission and Justin simply rolled over onto his stomach. Face-to-face would be too intense.
Justin reached out a hand to snag the lube from his bag and handed it back over his shoulder. “Do you want me to…” he cleared his throat, “do you need me to walk you through this?”
A quick laugh from Gus. “I’ve done this before. Not with a man. But I’ve done it. She didn’t like it much. This seems… different.”
Justin could only nod.
“Just talk to me, Justin. Okay? I want to hear you. Keep me grounded.”
He eased up onto his knees and started a slow trail of words, loving words, hot words, soft talk and careless whispers.
“Touch me. Feel my body. That feels-,” his words hitched. “When you run your hands down my sides, it….” The words fell away when the hands slipped down his hips and over his ass.
“Talk to me, Justin, don’t stop.”
And Justin shook his head and tried to think clearly. “There. I can feel you getting closer to my hole. I’m shaking, Gus. You’re doing that to me. You’re making me so hard.”
Then he heard a snick as Gus thumbed the top of the bottle of lube open. Justin clenched a bit when a finger approached his hole. It was hard not seeing what was happening, not knowing what to expect, but it only increased the anticipation. The finger made small circular movements, spreading lube slowly, coming ever closer to the center. He almost forgot Gus wanted him to talk. Say something. Anything.
So he babbled. “It’s different with a man, Gus. There’s a part that women don’t have. The prostate. It makes it more enjoyable for us. Some women may like it but…”
The finger touched his hole and his eyes closed in anticipation. He restrained himself from pushing back, letting Gus take it at his own pace. And he was grateful for the initial orgasm that took the edge off or he would be a shivering mess by now. He hadn’t had to exercise such control in years.
“…but with men… it’s different. Go ahead. You won’t hurt me.” Please oh please. The finger slowly pushed in.
“So tight. So hot. Justin, talk to me.”
“I’m sorry, Gus, I got a little…caught up. I’ll try to keep talking. It just feels so wild. Go ahead. Put in another finger. It won’t hurt. It won’t be like it was that other time. With her.”
He could hear Gus’ breathing become heavier as he added more lube. He was being so gentle, not knowing how hard and rough Justin had taken it. Then the second finger, finally. Feeling the stretch. Relaxing his muscles.
“Feels good. So good. Stretch it. Feel it become easier. So hot. So hard.” The words fell out of his mouth, one after the other, not that it really mattered what he said, just the sound of his voice seemed enough. And he couldn’t stop the words now.
"I’m ready, Gus, I’m ready. Are you…? Can you do it now?" He dared a look over his shoulder and Gus’ eyes were entranced, his lips slightly parted, his dick hard, and he looked like heaven. It was too much.
“Please.” One quiet word packed with emotion.
Gus’ eyes flared. Justin spread his legs more and Gus quickly grabbed a condom from the side drawer and slipped it on, walking up behind him on his knees. Justin felt the first bump against his hole, then the slow push, punctuated by the sound of Gus’ ragged breaths. Finally, Justin couldn’t hold back any longer and he pushed back, hard, taking Gus all the way in one quick move. Gus went stock-still.
“Justin.” The words were strained. “Don’t move. I want-” A quick breath taken. “I want to make this last.”
It was unfair torture to wait, shaking knees and a leaking cock and arms that shivered in anticipation. Staying still right then was the hardest thing he ever did, but it was all for Gus. Then slowly Gus started to move and Justin sighed in relief. He angled his body, aching for that touch, that spot, and there, right there, and words were useless now, the conversation being held with their bodies, the throaty groans and rasping breaths, the rocking of their hips and the sweat on their skin.
“Justin.” The words came out stilted. “I can’t wait much longer. I have to…”
“Bring your hand around. Touch my cock. Together. We’ll do it together.”
And the soft touch of his hand had Justin thrusting quickly, increasing his rhythm until Gus finally gave in to his urge to fuck hard, to thrust deep, and Justin thrilled at the scent of release and came grunting hard on the bedspread, clenching his muscles and sending Gus over the edge.
They collapsed to the other side of the bed, tangled up in each other’s limbs, sprawled out in release and exhaustion. A soft hand whispered back Justin's hair.
“Thank you.” Gus swept a soft kiss over his forehead and no more words were needed as they lay quietly. Gus’ arms wound around Justin’s chest, holding on to him as if he was the last tether to his dad’s love.
When Gus’ breathing settled into a light snore, Justin slipped out of his arms and dressed. He gazed at Gus sleeping relaxed and elegant on the bed and could taste addiction, and he knew he had to leave before it sank in its claws and ate him whole. Justin allowed himself one last, soft kiss, then grabbed his bags and walked out to his car with the bittersweet taste of Gus still on his lips.
And Justin yearned.
Author's notes: The Beta channel - All darksylvia, all the time. The girl rocks. (With a little side visit to luceononuro.)
Dare: A believable Gus/Justin fic.
Warning/Rating: Explicit sex
Gus was a clean slate, untainted by Brian’s fucked-up views on love. He echoed his father, the same confident swagger, same dark hair, and same dry delivery of words in a low-timbered voice. But he was saved from hardened edges by the soft hands of Mel and Lindsey. His eyes were quick to sparkle without Brian’s trademark cynicism. His smile was spontaneous. He was young and he was beautiful.
He was also straight.
Gus had spent eighteen years in an extended family entrenched in queer culture. Any inkling of homosexuality would have been celebrated with a six-foot banner and a “Yay, You’re Gay!” shindig. So Gus was straight, with the juggling of girlfriends to prove it.
But Justin hoped.
**
It had been a shock for Justin to return to Pittsburgh and see Gus had become an adult in his absence. Years were sped up with teenagers, they flew by at a faster pace. Changes were dramatic, with growth spurts, changing voices, and maturity hard-won every day. In the years since Justin had left Brian, his visits home had been few, but when he realized three years had slipped by, he had finally come back--and found that three years for a teenager was literally a lifetime.
“Justin. They said you were back in town." Gus answered the door after a stampede of footsteps down the stairs. "Man, it’s good to see you again.”
He was a younger version of Brian, in Skechers and faded jeans. Six feet tall, with corded muscles and long legs encased in tight denim. He was still a few years away from the cat-like grace of Brian but it lurked around the edges in small touches, a head tilt here, an intense gaze there.
The longing hit like a fucking tidal wave, a full-on sensory assault, and he stumbled over his reply.
"Um, yeah, you too, Gus."
Lindsey squealed as she walked up beside Gus to grab Justin in a bear hug. "You're back!" She squeezed a little tighter. " We were wondering if you forgot about us little people."
"Never. I missed you guys too much." Justin smiled into Lindsey's hair, hanging on to the hug as long as possible.
"Don't stay away so long next time. Then you won't miss us." She grinned and grabbed his hands to spread them wide. "And you look great, Justin. Really. Life's obviously been good to you."
It hadn't felt good.
Gus waggled his eyebrows from behind his mom, making him laugh and lightening the sadness in his chest, and Justin made his decision in an instant. He spun a sad tale of mixed-up room reservations, begged a place to stay from Lindsey, and made a note to call the hotel later to cancel his room.
He would get charged for the room anyway but it didn’t matter. He was staying with Gus.
“Gus, take his bag up to the attic. Then you, Mister,” she pointed to Justin, “get your butt back down here. I want to hear everything about your shows.” With that stern warning, Justin followed Gus up the stairs. Gus threw himself on the bed and stretched his arms behind his head while Justin unpacked. For Justin, sleeping in new places was routine. Clothes shoved into a closet, a travel alarm clock set on the nightstand, everything in its place. But it felt different with Gus there. He was conscious of every move.
“I missed you, Gus. You’ve grown at least a foot.”
“You haven’t.” Gus stuck out his tongue and Justin laughed.
“Smart-alec.” Justin flung a pair of underwear at his head and awkwardness fell away in an instant.
Gus dragged the underwear off his head and threw them on the floor then leaned forward eagerly. “There’s so much to tell you. Did you know I’m going to Dartmouth in the fall? I can’t wait. I love the moms but it’s time to get out of this place, you know? I bet you couldn’t wait to blow this burg.”
The innocent words scraped like sandpaper. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He had been forced. It was either leave or hit the bottom of a long fall that would shatter him to pieces. Brian’s cliffs were high, and Justin knew he wouldn’t survive another push. It had taken cancer to finally break Brian, but when he broke, he broke hard.
Justin could tell the exact moment Brian gave up. He woke one morning and the light was gone. His eyes blank, his body language reserved. No more joking with Michael. No more snarking at Ted. No more whispered words in bed. Just a scary blandness punctuated by impersonal conversation.
Justin tried to fix him. It was what he did. Pick up the pieces and glue them back together, piece by piece, with the consummate patience of an artist, but there was no trick in his arsenal left, no magic spell to fix things. He’d drawn Brian out the first time because there was a crack in the shell, but the cancer sealed that crack with industrial-strength glue.
So Justin left. He spent fourteen years running from pain and hiding from hurtful memories. He dated some, though never for long, and never for love--at least not the real thing. They were only sad imitations, met with a dimmed smile that no longer matched a nickname long since discarded.
And Justin longed.
But now was not the time, and this was not the person, for pulling out old wounds and showing scars.
“Sure, Gus. I couldn’t wait. It’s a big world, right?”
If Gus heard anything wrong in his words, he let it slip by without comment. “You’ll have to tell me about everything. Tonight. We can bunk down like kids in the dark and tell stories with a flashlight. Bring back your forgotten youth.” Gus held a pretend flashlight under his chin and his grin was contagious. Sunshine spread through Justin’s smile for the first time in far too long and he wondered why he had ever stayed away.
“You’re on.” He stretched out a hand to pull Gus off the bed and tossed an easy arm around him as they headed for the stairs. “Let’s check in with your moms and get the inquisition over with. I’m sure they have a million questions for me.”
So he met with Mel and Linds, and then onto his Mom, who dabbed at suspiciously wet eyes. Her new husband was nice but conversation was stilted, so it was relief to leave the restrained emotions and polite conversation behind and pick up Gus on the way to Deb’s. Walking into Deb’s was like finally coming home, the same gaudy flowered couch, the same clown figurines on the shelf, and emotions laid out bare for everyone to grab hold of.
“Sunshine!” A smothering hug then a soft thwap upside his head. “Don’t you ever stay away that long again, you hear me?” She wagged her finger in his face.
He hadn’t smiled this much in years. “I love you too, Deb.”
She hollered over her shoulder. “Carl! Sunshine’s here. Get your ass down here!” She grabbed his arm and finally saw Gus behind him. “Gus. Holy shit. I feel like a queen today. Well, not that kind of queen.” She winked and gave a few enthusiastic chews of her gum. “Come in, the rest of the gang will be here soon. Want some spaghetti?”
The evening was an exhilarating game of ‘catch-up’ as all of the old gang stopped in for visits, coming and going as their schedule with kids and businesses allowed, but Gus stayed always nearby, soaking up his stories with jealous eyes and the big dreams of youth, bursting to follow in Justin’s footsteps. Brian didn’t stop by at all.
And Justin hurt.
Finally, he was able to pry free from loving arms and sloppy kisses. Lord, how he missed them all. He regretted the time he’d spent away, avoiding Brian, nursing wounds that would never close. Visiting with friends helped. The wounds were still there, but they were smaller, no longer gaping. But now he was getting tired and ready to retreat to his bed for some peace and quiet. And a night of stories with Gus.
They tiptoed up the stairs and Gus closed the door to the attic behind them. He pulled out a joint as they plopped onto the bed.
“You look like you need this.”
Justin laughed and took the joint with relief. “You have no idea. Your dad taught you well.” And the memory dimmed the laugh on his lips. He lit the joint with shaking hands and closed his eyes to concentrate on the harsh taste invading his lungs, holding it as long as possible before opening his eyes and exhaling, to find Gus staring at him in concern.
“I heard the stories. About you and Dad, I mean. I’m sorry.”
Justin passed the joint back and felt a quick brush of fingertips. “It’s okay, Gus. It was a long time ago.” Meaningless platitudes, oft-repeated denials, said so often they were almost becoming true.
“What was he like back then? Can you tell me?” There was no way Justin could deny him. He knew what it felt like, the need to dig for any small information about Brian. It’s only snooping if they make you, right?
He gave Gus a searching look, memorizing the shape of his face, different enough from Brian’s to have its own distinct beauty but still enough like his father for Justin to become hard. He was thankful he still wore the same baggy khakis after all these years.
“I tell you what.” He kept his eyes glued to Gus’ face. “I’ll tell you about Brian then, if you tell me about Brian now.”
When Gus finally nodded his assent, Justin let out a relieved breath. It would be good to talk about it, to let it out. Finally.
“You go first. Tell me. About what he was like back then,” Gus said. “Please.” The word was soft but Justin recognized the emotion behind it. Feelings for Brian did that to you, they fucked you over.
So Justin began to talk. Words spilled out. Good times. Bad times. Award-winning fights and even better make-up sex. Gus didn’t flinch about any of the sex parts. And there were lots in Justin’s stories. It was who they were. Sex and adrenaline, high emotions and higher drugs, passion and pain braided together into one. And it felt liberating to dig out old memories he had shoved so far back in his mind.
“Birthdays,” Justin said with a sharp laugh, “you never knew what would happen with Brian and birthdays. For a guy who claimed he didn’t celebrate them, he sure had his moments. You just held your breath and waited for the blow-out.”
Gus leaned back on his elbows and stared across the room so Justin kept talking.
“The first year I knew him, for Uncle Mikey’s birthday, he threw this huge party, no expense spared, to give Michael the best night of his life. Then he brought the whole thing crashing down around him just to push him away. For his own good." A disgusted laugh. "The bastard was good at that, Gus, playing the martyr. You wouldn’t believe how good."
Gus finally met his eyes with shared commiseration, and just the slightest touch of frump. "The bastard’s still good at that."
They both sat quietly for a moment before Justin continued. “But, Gus, it wasn’t all bad. I remember Brian’s 30th birthday. At first, it wasn’t so good. He blew everyone off and fucked himself up with too much booze, and um, dangerous behavior,” a quick look out of the corner of his eye, “but then he turned around and showed up at my prom. He was like a fucking yo-yo. A sexy, exasperating yo-yo. You never knew what to expect.” Words said through a smile.
The memories didn’t hurt like he feared they would. There was good and there was bad, but the good fucking blew the bad away.
"The next year, we were at your birthday, Gus. You were just turning one. I had a bad memory. From the prom." He knew Gus had heard the story of how the prom ended but he glossed over that part quickly. "I panicked. But Brian…he was so strong. He threw his arms around me and rocked me and murmured in my ear to calm me down. Then he took me home and just held me. You wouldn’t believe how tender he was."
Gus was fixated on Justin’s face. “He did love you, didn’t he? They said he did, but I couldn’t believe it for sure. I see it now.”
"Yeah, he did. Fucker would never admit it," Justin laughed, "but he did." Brian Kinney gives a shit. "Just don’t tell him I said that." He gave Gus a small wink and was rewarded with a grin before Gus turned serious again.
“He’s so different now. Dad is…” he cleared his throat, “dad is cold. He doesn’t do birthdays. He may have said it then but it’s the real thing now. He hasn’t been to one of mine since I was five.”
Jesus.
“I love him though, don’t get me wrong. He’s so much bigger than life. A fucking fabulous success.” They shared a smile over the words. “But it’s like there’s no emotion. Does that make sense?”
Justin nodded but stayed silent. This was Gus’ turn. They were partners-in-arms in the war that was Brian Kinney, soldiers bonding over swapped stories while bunkered down in a foxhole.
“I’ve never seen him at a birthday party. Not even Michael’s, and they’ve been friends forever. He didn’t even show up when I turned eighteen. My fucking eighteenth birthday. The next day, a driver showed up with a brand new Toyota. It was nice. But I would have rather had him there, you know? I heard he was down at Woody’s getting plastered.”
And Justin ached.
“How did you do it, Justin? How did you make him feel? Make him love?” The question was asked almost blandly, as if it were just a throwaway question that didn’t really matter, but Justin knew what Gus was asking. And Justin couldn’t do it again. Neither could Gus. It was a dead-end. Brian was 48. Cast in stone. Burnished to a hard-rock sheen by both time and childhood traumas he could never let go.
“Gus. He…” Justin trailed off then decided on the simple truth. “Sex.” A quick laugh. “I made him love through sex. Hot, wild, mind-blowing, no-holds-barred sex. At least, at first.”
Justin felt the mattress dip as Gus edged a little closer. “I can’t imagine anything that would make Dad actually feel. But you did it. You…” The words trailed away with a searching gaze that raked Justin’s body. “I didn’t know him then. Just what he’s like now. I worry -” he paused briefly, “I worry sometimes that I’ll end up like him.”
Justin pulled Gus towards him with a small tug and Gus melted into him. “Never.” Justin rubbed his arm with simple, soothing circles, the rise and fall of Gus’ body warm against his chest. His breathing slowed to match Gus’ rhythm.
They sat, one man who loved so hard he could never love again, the other scared he’d never love at all.
Justin felt Gus’ breath speed up and regretted the intense discussion. Was it too much-- was he crying? He brought his fingers to Gus’ chin and turned his head to see his eyes, but Gus' eyes were dry. They sat quietly like that, with Justin's fingers on Gus' face, a long moment that stretched out like taffy. Then Gus leaned up to brush his lips softly against Justin's.
“Show me, Justin. Show me how you made Dad feel. Make me feel.” His voice was low and demanding as he brushed Justin’s lips again and deepened the kiss. He had obviously had his share of experience. He kissed like a dream you didn’t want interrupted, hoping you would stay asleep for just a few minutes longer so the feeling wouldn’t slip away.
“Don’t let me become like him.” Gus’ soft words ripped at Justin’s insides.
“Gus, I can’t. I don’t think -”
“You can, Justin. Sex, remember? Hot, wild, mind-blowing sex.” A slight grin, but one masking an intense need. “You did it for him. Do it for me.” Scared eyes grasping for help. “I know you can.”
This was fucked up.
This was inevitable.
“Please, Justin.”
Justin simply nodded. Fucked up or not, this was something they both needed, a connection with Brian the only way they could find it…with each other. Justin couldn’t refuse.
Gus was a Kinney through and through, and took the lead as if he fucked men every day. Justin wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but not this slow, torturous exploration. Shirt unbuttoned, first one button, then drawn-out seconds before the next. Jeans unzipped with excruciating slowness, tooth by tooth. Gus stood up to whip off his own clothes then returned to remove the rest of Justin’s with the same deliberate pace.
When they were both free of all their clothing, Gus lay back next to him and touched his chest, almost with reverence, sweeping his eyes over Justin’s naked body with an unreadable expression. He met Justin’s lips for a teasing, aching kiss that rivaled any of Brian’s.
Justin didn’t want to rush him but he was so hard he hurt. And he could see how hard Gus was. How did he exercise control like this at such a young age? Justin could only close his eyes, clench his fists at his side, and breathe deep as Gus’ fingers trailed down his chest and softly fluttered over his dick. When he felt the hand close in a fist around his cock, he bucked, then tensed his whole body, willing himself to hold still, to not scare him.
He opened his eyes at a soft breath against his cheek. “It’s okay, Justin. I want you to do it. I want to watch.” And Justin’s eyes were drawn down to those long graceful fingers stroking back and forth in an intoxicating rhythm. “Come for me, Justin.”
With those simple words and light touch, the orgasm built quickly and shot over his chest. He slumped back, willing his body back under control, then wiped himself clean with sheets and shaking hands.
“I’m sorry, Gus. It was just so-”
Soft fingers on his lips. “I feel it too. It’s… intense. It was like this with you and Dad, wasn’t it?”
Justin couldn’t respond, could only stare into his eyes.
“Do you want to touch me?” Gus asked.
Did he have to speak? He didn’t think he could. Instead he rolled Gus onto his back and worshipped his body with light touches that became progressively harder as Gus responded. Nails down his chest, followed by his tongue, fingers winding in the pubic hair, soft and springy. He walked his fingers up Gus’ cock and stroked it in return, becoming harder at the moans and gasps he pulled from Gus’ mouth. Gus was vocal. Like Brian. Justin increased his strokes wanting nothing more than to make more of those potent sounds.
He moved down the bed and placed his lips over Gus’ cock, taking in the head slowly. He slid his mouth down, relaxed and open, wetting Gus’ cock, then suctioning his lips as he stroked back up. Gus moaned as he pushed his hips up into Justin’s mouth. Another slow slide down his cock before Justin dragged his lips back to the top--long, languid sucks that sent flutters to his stomach at Gus’ reactions. He wanted to make this perfect. He swirled his tongue over the head and flicked it over the slit and was rewarded with a harsh moan.
“Stop, Justin. Stop.” Husky breath behind the words and Justin froze.
“Gus, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” Gus must have read Justin’s eyes, his fear of overstepping boundaries, and he leaned up to push Justin slowly onto his back. “Not that. Not stop entirely.” His laugh was shaky. “I don’t think I could stop now if I tried.” His fingernails made light tracks over Justin’s body. “I want to wait until I’m inside you. Can I?” Eyes swept his for permission and Justin simply rolled over onto his stomach. Face-to-face would be too intense.
Justin reached out a hand to snag the lube from his bag and handed it back over his shoulder. “Do you want me to…” he cleared his throat, “do you need me to walk you through this?”
A quick laugh from Gus. “I’ve done this before. Not with a man. But I’ve done it. She didn’t like it much. This seems… different.”
Justin could only nod.
“Just talk to me, Justin. Okay? I want to hear you. Keep me grounded.”
He eased up onto his knees and started a slow trail of words, loving words, hot words, soft talk and careless whispers.
“Touch me. Feel my body. That feels-,” his words hitched. “When you run your hands down my sides, it….” The words fell away when the hands slipped down his hips and over his ass.
“Talk to me, Justin, don’t stop.”
And Justin shook his head and tried to think clearly. “There. I can feel you getting closer to my hole. I’m shaking, Gus. You’re doing that to me. You’re making me so hard.”
Then he heard a snick as Gus thumbed the top of the bottle of lube open. Justin clenched a bit when a finger approached his hole. It was hard not seeing what was happening, not knowing what to expect, but it only increased the anticipation. The finger made small circular movements, spreading lube slowly, coming ever closer to the center. He almost forgot Gus wanted him to talk. Say something. Anything.
So he babbled. “It’s different with a man, Gus. There’s a part that women don’t have. The prostate. It makes it more enjoyable for us. Some women may like it but…”
The finger touched his hole and his eyes closed in anticipation. He restrained himself from pushing back, letting Gus take it at his own pace. And he was grateful for the initial orgasm that took the edge off or he would be a shivering mess by now. He hadn’t had to exercise such control in years.
“…but with men… it’s different. Go ahead. You won’t hurt me.” Please oh please. The finger slowly pushed in.
“So tight. So hot. Justin, talk to me.”
“I’m sorry, Gus, I got a little…caught up. I’ll try to keep talking. It just feels so wild. Go ahead. Put in another finger. It won’t hurt. It won’t be like it was that other time. With her.”
He could hear Gus’ breathing become heavier as he added more lube. He was being so gentle, not knowing how hard and rough Justin had taken it. Then the second finger, finally. Feeling the stretch. Relaxing his muscles.
“Feels good. So good. Stretch it. Feel it become easier. So hot. So hard.” The words fell out of his mouth, one after the other, not that it really mattered what he said, just the sound of his voice seemed enough. And he couldn’t stop the words now.
"I’m ready, Gus, I’m ready. Are you…? Can you do it now?" He dared a look over his shoulder and Gus’ eyes were entranced, his lips slightly parted, his dick hard, and he looked like heaven. It was too much.
“Please.” One quiet word packed with emotion.
Gus’ eyes flared. Justin spread his legs more and Gus quickly grabbed a condom from the side drawer and slipped it on, walking up behind him on his knees. Justin felt the first bump against his hole, then the slow push, punctuated by the sound of Gus’ ragged breaths. Finally, Justin couldn’t hold back any longer and he pushed back, hard, taking Gus all the way in one quick move. Gus went stock-still.
“Justin.” The words were strained. “Don’t move. I want-” A quick breath taken. “I want to make this last.”
It was unfair torture to wait, shaking knees and a leaking cock and arms that shivered in anticipation. Staying still right then was the hardest thing he ever did, but it was all for Gus. Then slowly Gus started to move and Justin sighed in relief. He angled his body, aching for that touch, that spot, and there, right there, and words were useless now, the conversation being held with their bodies, the throaty groans and rasping breaths, the rocking of their hips and the sweat on their skin.
“Justin.” The words came out stilted. “I can’t wait much longer. I have to…”
“Bring your hand around. Touch my cock. Together. We’ll do it together.”
And the soft touch of his hand had Justin thrusting quickly, increasing his rhythm until Gus finally gave in to his urge to fuck hard, to thrust deep, and Justin thrilled at the scent of release and came grunting hard on the bedspread, clenching his muscles and sending Gus over the edge.
They collapsed to the other side of the bed, tangled up in each other’s limbs, sprawled out in release and exhaustion. A soft hand whispered back Justin's hair.
“Thank you.” Gus swept a soft kiss over his forehead and no more words were needed as they lay quietly. Gus’ arms wound around Justin’s chest, holding on to him as if he was the last tether to his dad’s love.
When Gus’ breathing settled into a light snore, Justin slipped out of his arms and dressed. He gazed at Gus sleeping relaxed and elegant on the bed and could taste addiction, and he knew he had to leave before it sank in its claws and ate him whole. Justin allowed himself one last, soft kiss, then grabbed his bags and walked out to his car with the bittersweet taste of Gus still on his lips.
And Justin yearned.