RECONNECT
Title: Reconnect
Written By: vlredreign
Timeline: 512-ish
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Porn
Summary: Just a quiet evening at home
Author's Notes: A million thanks to my betas, who shall be revealed later!
Inspired By Icon:
They leave the sofa, the Art Forum magazine and Justin’s gift wish list abandoned for now. Brian’s mouth is punishing Justin’s for straying so far away, even though it was only to the kitchen for a bottle of water. His kisses are both hard and soft, pleasure seeking and soul searing, and Justin can’t get enough. They’ve been fucking pretty much non-stop since the proposal, so it’s a combination of reunion sex and giddy sex and “fuck, I’m horny” sex all rolled into one.
Justin’s wearing too many pieces of clothing. Brian remedies that quickly, tossing t-shirt and jeans in opposite directions, throwing underwear over his head, and kicking one of Justin’s sneakers out of the way so hard that the sound of something hitting the floor along with it makes them both laugh. Justin returns the favor, but slower; god forbid he should rip Brian’s shirt, not knowing that Brian could give a fuck about it. It’s not one of his favorites, anyway.
They stand in the center of the room, hands in hair and running along backs, mouths open and shiny with spit, tongues darting in and out, playing chase. Justin arches up onto his toes and into Brian, making their cocks rub against each other, hard and leaking, twitching both from movement and rapid pulses. Brian wants to taste Justin, but needs leverage, so he backs Justin up slowly until the nearest support beam halts his motion. He kisses, licks and bites every bit of skin along the way, sucking bruises into Justin’s neck and along his collarbone, lips curving into a smile as Justin moans in his ear. He licks the closest nipple, and then closes his lips over it, almost feeding from it. Justin feels the sensation down to his balls and hisses. Brian replaces tongue with fingers, and takes care of the other side.
He can smell Justin now, smell his desire, and it’s making him a bit crazy. He kisses Justin’s stomach, plays with his navel, and then bypasses his cock. Justin whimpers at this; he wants Brian’s mouth on his dick, but Brian has other ideas, and so he has no choice but to be patient. Brian will get him there, he always does. Sometimes it just takes longer than he would like.
Brian knows what Justin wants, but that would move things along faster than he would like. On his knees, he spreads Justin’s legs, smoothing his hands up and over Justin’s ass. Justin pushes his pelvis forward, and Brian laughs. He is nothing if not persistent. It’s how they ended up here in the first place, Brian thinks. He kisses his way up the insides of Justin’s thighs, listening to him panting harshly above; then, without warning, bites and sucks deeply, causing Justin to groan so hard that he nearly comes at the sound. He wants more, needs more. He needs to feel Justin shaking under his fingertips, to hear Justin calling his name, crying for release, begging for it. He stands and kisses Justin again. He can’t stay away from his mouth. Fucking is good, but kisses are better, somehow. Everything is better, now. He’s always been addicted to Justin’s mouth, to those lips. To that taste. Soft and full, the taste of sun and wind, of youth and experience. Of life and love. Of home.
He starts to turn Justin’s body to face the beam when he feels it. The slightest of hesitations, the minute tensing of Justin’s body. Brian slows his pace, caressing Justin’s shoulders, kissing the side of his neck, pushing his fingers into Justin’s hair. Slow, so slow. He moves his hands to Justin’s hips, moves them around to the front, and runs a finger along Justin’s cock. Justin sighs from the touch and relaxes. He wraps one hand around the beam, the other around Brian’s neck and pulls him closer. He tips his head back against Brian’s shoulder and sighs again.
Brian
You realize that his back is coated with a thin sheen of sweat. You drag your fingers across it, drawing patterns against the soft skin. Justin grinds his ass against your cock, drawing your attention back to the matter at hand. His back, flushed pink with his arousal, it calls to you. And so you kiss the nape of his neck, stick out your tongue, and drag it down, down, over the bumps of his vertebrae, never stopping, and Justin moans again, just like the first time. Just like every time. You reach that beautiful ass, and spread it open, spread it wide, and lick. His body shudders, just the way you wanted. You bathe his hole with your tongue and your spit, then slide a finger inside, just one. One is all you’ll need. You rub him inside and lick him outside, lost in the taste and the smell, oh, fuck, the smell of him, and you take your free hand and squeeze your cock hard, praying that you’ll last long enough to finish this. You twist your finger and find his sweet spot, and he cries so loudly that if you didn’t know better, you’d swear that he was hurt. His ass grabs your finger hard, so hard that you can’t move it for a second, then he lets go, and you continue. Lick, rub, suck, lick rub, bite, and he’s sobbing, and there are words mixed up in there. “Brian…please, god please,” and so you have mercy on his ass. Maybe even his soul.
You hook a finger into your jeans and grab two of the four essentials from the pocket, condom and lube. You tear the wrapper with your teeth, something that always makes him smile, roll it on and lube yourself quickly. You bend your knees and line yourself up, and enter him slowly. You have to, because any faster and you’re going to come like a fucking teenager. Like he did that first time. Although, to be fair, he did try to warn you. You straighten your legs, and slide in further, then Justin leans back and impales himself on your cock, taking control. Like you ever had any. You raise your hands and entwine your fingers with his, and let your hips do the work. His ass works your cock the same way his mouth does, squeezing and letting go, massaging it in his own rhythm, and you close your eyes and just feel. Feel the silky slide of your cock moving in and out of him, feel him ride you like his life depended on it, feel his pulse racing to match yours, feel that connection that is always there, sometimes frayed, sometimes a hair-trigger from snapping, but there. You feel it binding yourself to him, and he to you. All those weeks, all these years, always there.
Reconnecting.
Justin’s arm reaches behind you and grabs your thigh, pulling you tighter against him. That’s your signal; you know he’s close. You reach forward and take his cock, and run your thumb over the head, and he’s so wet, so fucking wet, and warm, and you can’t stop it anymore, and he whimpers your name, “Brian….”, and you come with a groan, bringing him with you, and you think you’ll fucking pass out, maybe even die, and if this is a sin then so fucking be it, you’re going to hell, and you’re taking him with you, because at least the music’s good.
Finally you slump over him a little, and feel his legs buckling. You pull out slowly, and he makes that sound that makes you smile and makes you think you just took his teddy bear away all at the same time. You discard the condom and guide him over to the sofa. You lie down in the crease and draw him down on top of you, and you wrap yourselves around each other, connected at the legs, the groin, and the chest. You tuck his head against your shoulder and stroke his damp hair, as he strokes your chest with his talented fingers. Reconnected once again.
Written By: vlredreign
Timeline: 512-ish
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Porn
Summary: Just a quiet evening at home
Author's Notes: A million thanks to my betas, who shall be revealed later!
Inspired By Icon:
They leave the sofa, the Art Forum magazine and Justin’s gift wish list abandoned for now. Brian’s mouth is punishing Justin’s for straying so far away, even though it was only to the kitchen for a bottle of water. His kisses are both hard and soft, pleasure seeking and soul searing, and Justin can’t get enough. They’ve been fucking pretty much non-stop since the proposal, so it’s a combination of reunion sex and giddy sex and “fuck, I’m horny” sex all rolled into one.
Justin’s wearing too many pieces of clothing. Brian remedies that quickly, tossing t-shirt and jeans in opposite directions, throwing underwear over his head, and kicking one of Justin’s sneakers out of the way so hard that the sound of something hitting the floor along with it makes them both laugh. Justin returns the favor, but slower; god forbid he should rip Brian’s shirt, not knowing that Brian could give a fuck about it. It’s not one of his favorites, anyway.
They stand in the center of the room, hands in hair and running along backs, mouths open and shiny with spit, tongues darting in and out, playing chase. Justin arches up onto his toes and into Brian, making their cocks rub against each other, hard and leaking, twitching both from movement and rapid pulses. Brian wants to taste Justin, but needs leverage, so he backs Justin up slowly until the nearest support beam halts his motion. He kisses, licks and bites every bit of skin along the way, sucking bruises into Justin’s neck and along his collarbone, lips curving into a smile as Justin moans in his ear. He licks the closest nipple, and then closes his lips over it, almost feeding from it. Justin feels the sensation down to his balls and hisses. Brian replaces tongue with fingers, and takes care of the other side.
He can smell Justin now, smell his desire, and it’s making him a bit crazy. He kisses Justin’s stomach, plays with his navel, and then bypasses his cock. Justin whimpers at this; he wants Brian’s mouth on his dick, but Brian has other ideas, and so he has no choice but to be patient. Brian will get him there, he always does. Sometimes it just takes longer than he would like.
Brian knows what Justin wants, but that would move things along faster than he would like. On his knees, he spreads Justin’s legs, smoothing his hands up and over Justin’s ass. Justin pushes his pelvis forward, and Brian laughs. He is nothing if not persistent. It’s how they ended up here in the first place, Brian thinks. He kisses his way up the insides of Justin’s thighs, listening to him panting harshly above; then, without warning, bites and sucks deeply, causing Justin to groan so hard that he nearly comes at the sound. He wants more, needs more. He needs to feel Justin shaking under his fingertips, to hear Justin calling his name, crying for release, begging for it. He stands and kisses Justin again. He can’t stay away from his mouth. Fucking is good, but kisses are better, somehow. Everything is better, now. He’s always been addicted to Justin’s mouth, to those lips. To that taste. Soft and full, the taste of sun and wind, of youth and experience. Of life and love. Of home.
He starts to turn Justin’s body to face the beam when he feels it. The slightest of hesitations, the minute tensing of Justin’s body. Brian slows his pace, caressing Justin’s shoulders, kissing the side of his neck, pushing his fingers into Justin’s hair. Slow, so slow. He moves his hands to Justin’s hips, moves them around to the front, and runs a finger along Justin’s cock. Justin sighs from the touch and relaxes. He wraps one hand around the beam, the other around Brian’s neck and pulls him closer. He tips his head back against Brian’s shoulder and sighs again.
Brian
You realize that his back is coated with a thin sheen of sweat. You drag your fingers across it, drawing patterns against the soft skin. Justin grinds his ass against your cock, drawing your attention back to the matter at hand. His back, flushed pink with his arousal, it calls to you. And so you kiss the nape of his neck, stick out your tongue, and drag it down, down, over the bumps of his vertebrae, never stopping, and Justin moans again, just like the first time. Just like every time. You reach that beautiful ass, and spread it open, spread it wide, and lick. His body shudders, just the way you wanted. You bathe his hole with your tongue and your spit, then slide a finger inside, just one. One is all you’ll need. You rub him inside and lick him outside, lost in the taste and the smell, oh, fuck, the smell of him, and you take your free hand and squeeze your cock hard, praying that you’ll last long enough to finish this. You twist your finger and find his sweet spot, and he cries so loudly that if you didn’t know better, you’d swear that he was hurt. His ass grabs your finger hard, so hard that you can’t move it for a second, then he lets go, and you continue. Lick, rub, suck, lick rub, bite, and he’s sobbing, and there are words mixed up in there. “Brian…please, god please,” and so you have mercy on his ass. Maybe even his soul.
You hook a finger into your jeans and grab two of the four essentials from the pocket, condom and lube. You tear the wrapper with your teeth, something that always makes him smile, roll it on and lube yourself quickly. You bend your knees and line yourself up, and enter him slowly. You have to, because any faster and you’re going to come like a fucking teenager. Like he did that first time. Although, to be fair, he did try to warn you. You straighten your legs, and slide in further, then Justin leans back and impales himself on your cock, taking control. Like you ever had any. You raise your hands and entwine your fingers with his, and let your hips do the work. His ass works your cock the same way his mouth does, squeezing and letting go, massaging it in his own rhythm, and you close your eyes and just feel. Feel the silky slide of your cock moving in and out of him, feel him ride you like his life depended on it, feel his pulse racing to match yours, feel that connection that is always there, sometimes frayed, sometimes a hair-trigger from snapping, but there. You feel it binding yourself to him, and he to you. All those weeks, all these years, always there.
Reconnecting.
Justin’s arm reaches behind you and grabs your thigh, pulling you tighter against him. That’s your signal; you know he’s close. You reach forward and take his cock, and run your thumb over the head, and he’s so wet, so fucking wet, and warm, and you can’t stop it anymore, and he whimpers your name, “Brian….”, and you come with a groan, bringing him with you, and you think you’ll fucking pass out, maybe even die, and if this is a sin then so fucking be it, you’re going to hell, and you’re taking him with you, because at least the music’s good.
Finally you slump over him a little, and feel his legs buckling. You pull out slowly, and he makes that sound that makes you smile and makes you think you just took his teddy bear away all at the same time. You discard the condom and guide him over to the sofa. You lie down in the crease and draw him down on top of you, and you wrap yourselves around each other, connected at the legs, the groin, and the chest. You tuck his head against your shoulder and stroke his damp hair, as he strokes your chest with his talented fingers. Reconnected once again.