guavejuice | More Than Words- bday fic for soulmatejunkee

guavejuice

Author:

guavejuice
Pairing:Brian/Justin
Timeline:301
Brian's POV
Beta:

mander3_swish thank you so much, darling.
EKG project maneger: Carmen

galehot
Icon and banner: Pam

pam81
Prompt: Nastay

aaa_mazing
This one's for you my dear friend Steffi

soulmatejunkee
Disclaimer:I own nothing.
Comments are love.

I step into the empty loft knowing I won't find him here. I tell myself it's better this way. I told him it's his call. I knew it was all a big pile of bullshit. This young starving artist might have been Justin's idea of true romance, but I suspect it will only result in heartache, even greater heartache than what we've already caused ourselves.

I move aimlessly around, approaching my closet to hang up my suit jacket. That's when I see what he's left behind. It's a sock -one of his little gray socks. I pick it up and press it against my face. Trying to inhale him, feel him, and touch him through that sock. I can't resist the lump in my throat. I can almost feel his warm breath, his soft skin, and his silent cries through the fabric of that lonely sock.

I can almost hear him crying, "It hurts," asking if it always hurt. I can clearly hear myself tell him that it hurts a little, but it's a part of it.

I close my eyes with his sock still between my fingers. I can almost hear his painful cry gradually turn into a cry of passion; the feeling of something he probably thought he never knew he could feel as the tip of my cock pushed further inside of him for the very first time.

I can't help but wonder if he sighed the same way in the dark after his first time with Ian.

I can't help but to think about the way Justin sighed when he kept waking up after yet another nightmare during those endless, sleepless nights. I remember how the only way he was able to catch his breath again was when he put his head on my chest and we were just laying there as I caressed his damp, sweaty hair until he was able to fall asleep again.

I can't escape the thought that it was me who drove Justin into this guy's arms.

I left too many loose ends. He just slipped through the cracks. I wanted to keep him around for a long time, but it became too much of an uphill struggle.

I can't forget how a cloud of sadness covered his beautiful face when he told me this guy loves him in ways that I can't. I swear at that moment I wanted to stand up and shout at the top of my lungs "I love you, you twat" and hang onto him so he wouldn't leave, but all I could say was "In ways that I won't."

I was (and apparently still am) so stupid. God knows there's no one who loves him like I do. He was the one who told me he wanted me inside of him that night after he found the bloody scarf hidden beneath my shirt. It wasn't with flowers, breakfast in bed, nor violin music, but my own two hands, our bodies pressed together, our souls connecting with every breath we took in the dark that I was able to help him be okay, to be touched again.

Suddenly, it all becomes too painful. The tiny sock feels cold in my hands.

I notice I'm still standing in the same spot, fully clothed, suit jacket on. I drop Justin's sock to the floor and quickly step into the bathroom.

The spray of hot water in the shower doesn't wash away the burden of my thoughts, and I'm not sure that's what I want.

I dry my body and throw my jeans and a black sweater on. Then I reach for my brown leather jacket before leaving the loft and head to the diner.

For the first time since Justin came into my life, I know I'll have to win him back. I'll have to fight for him more than I ever have. I'll have to prove to him, to myself that we're not cursed. We're not doomed. We're just damaged by our own mistakes.

I've lost enough battles through the years, the scars hidden deep in my soul.

This is one battle I'm not ready to lose.