guavejuice | Questions- B/J One Shot

guavejuice

Banner by Ali

britinkinlor

Author:

guavejuice
Pairing:Brian/Justin
Timeline: Post 513
Brian's POV
Disclaimer:I own nothing.
Comments are love.

"I like you kitchen. " he said, when I first brought him into the loft that night.

He was clearly trying to hide his nervous excitement when I took off my black t shirt.

I didn't make it easier on him when I approached the fridge and took out a water bottle, purring it all over my half naked body.

His eyes widened and he swallowed hard but didn't back down, not even when I took off my underwear and asked him if he's coming or going.

His tongue knew exactly where to go while our lips touched and he pressed his tiny body into mine.

His innocence got the better of him when I asked him what does he like to do.

Later on I realized I can't just fuck him like any other trick. I'll have to fuck him so he'll always remember this. Deep and slow at first then hard, sweaty, pounding, licking, sucking, swirling around each other, leaving us both breathless afterwards.

When he woke up the morning after I told him I don't remember his name.

It couldn't have been more far from truth. His name has been imprinted on my skin, on my lips, in my soul from the first moment we touched, along with the memory his scent, the chancing color of his eyes, the taste of his cock, the softness and tightness of his hole, the sound of his passionate breathes in the dark.

It was all so new, so exciting, so fresh.

Not just for him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

I entered the loft after an 18 fucking hours day at the office , approached the fridge and opened the door to grab a bottle of beer.

As I loosened my tie I noticed the fridge was almost empty. Damn, the twat has a remarkable eating abilities.

I took him in because I felt he doesn't deserve to live in a house surrounded by hate and no love, but I didn't think I'll have to live like that.

His clothes were scattered around the loft, his back pack was thrown near my Barcelona chair and there were a couple of empty Doritos bags on the kitchen counter next to his history books and writing pad.

"I can fix you something to eat." he peeped from behind me. I couldn't deny the twitch in my cock when I saw him in his tight t shirt , cargo pants and cropped hair.

I felt as if I can't deal with it. Would someone please explain why I agreed to take an 17 old boy under my roof?

I slammed the fridge door and he took a step back.

"Sorry…" he whispered.

"Sorry is bullshit." I said "It's okay, just… try not to throw your shit all over the place." His eyes seemed brighter. "Finish your homework, I'll order Thi. And remember… lights out by 11pm ".

_ _ _ _ _ _

I enter our spacious kitchen and approach the fridge to take a bottle of water.

My eyes fall on a piece of paper on the fridge door.

Will be home late from the gallery, love you.

p.s
There's meet loaf in the oven

I can't deny the twitch in my dick.

He could have texed me but he left me a note. On the fridge door. And I can almost orgasm just by reading it and knowing he took the time to make dinner and write a note before he left for the gallery this afternoon to discuss his upcoming show.

Watch it, Kinney, get a grip, A frightening thought crosses my mind, as I turn the oven on.

What the fuck, and what if I do? Another thought fill my head.

I love him.

I have him.

We're bound together, finally living in this house, making it our home, sharing our lives, doing what's right for us, celebrating our small victories and trying not to mourn our loses. So I can feel a twitch in my dick as much as I would like. I'm still Brian Kinney.

I can relish the thought of having said twitching cock inside my husbands' sweet tight soft hole shortly, as soon as he'll be back from his meetings .

We'll eat a home cooked meal and have an early night.

There's no place on earth I'd rather be.