What They Miss...
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What They Miss (B/J NON-SPOILERY FIC)
Note: this fic contains NO SPOILERS!

So I'm taking a shower tonight, washing my hair, and Brian starts talking to me about how much he misses Justin when he's away on some movie or art project. I'm not alarmed, he is a motormouth most of the time (don't believe me? Ask [info]plumsuede about how much he yacks at her), but he was so melancholy tonight that I asked him to tell me in what ways he misses his boy.

This is what he said...



Title: What They Miss
Author: phobosgirl (phobosgirl@earthlink.net)
Date: 5/4/05 (my 20th wedding anniversary, btw *g*)
Rating: NC-17
Authors notes: Don't own them, wouldn't want to, they belong to Cowlip.
Warnings: none
Timeline: moderate future fic
Complete: yes


What Brian misses...


"How he makes the loft smell like acrylics, mineral spirits and that burned odor of oils and then carries it with him throughout the day so that no matter where I find him, when I touch him, caress and hold him, he smells like coming home.

"How he wiggles his ass in his chair at the dinner table and hums in pure hedonistic pleasure when he gets the first taste of a beloved food.

"How he always knows when it’s garbage pick-up day even though the cleaning service takes care of that.

"How he teases me about my expensive bath soaps, shampoos, hand creams and styling gels but uses all of them, anyway.

"How I always expect his pouty pink lips to taste like bubblegum but how they taste raw, powerful and masculine, instead. Unless he’s been chewing bubblegum.

"How he tightens his ass around my dick for that initial penetration every time we fuck because he knows how incredibly good it feels to me.

"How he tickles the newly formed wrinkles at the corners of my eyes with the tip of his nose just to show me that he doesn’t care they exist.

"How he walks around in my old button-down shirts and nothing else on a Sunday morning and never complains when I tear them off of him and shove him to the floor to fuck him senseless.

"How he gives my fake ball as much attention as the real one.

"How I wake up some nights and see him silhouetted at the windows, quietly gazing out over the city, thinking about god only knows what but looking solid and enduring.

"How he picks up a new pack of crayons or brightly colored pencils and a pad of fresh white paper for Gus when he goes to the art supply store and how he spends an entire Saturday afternoon sprawled on the floor with him, teaching him to color in the lines.

"How he cheers and smiles and hugs Gus when he doesn’t color in the lines and then hangs the kid’s artwork on the refrigerator after his mommies pick him up and take him home.

"How he tells me with a single look how important I am to him and then pretends not to notice the way it terrifies and thrills me all at the same time.

"How he whispers in my ear that he loves me when he thinks I’m sleeping."


 
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Never one to be outdone, Justin had his own list of things
he misses most about Brian, and he insisted I write those down, too,
so here they are:


"How he wakes us up with cancer, baseball bat and fiddler nightmares and then soothes us back to sleep again with his dick, his hands and his whispers of my name.

"How he ties me up gently and then fucks me hard enough to leave bruises.

"How I catch him staring at me all the time, and he doesn’t look away and pretend to be occupied with something else, anymore.

"How my drawings keep disappearing out of my sketchbook and ending up in a pocket of his briefcase.

"How habit makes him forget and reach for the condoms and how love makes him remember they aren’t necessary anymore.

"How sometimes late at night when he’s pretending to be working at his computer, he’s really surfing the web for porn.

"How when he’s pretending to work but really surfing for porn, I’m the one who benefits every time.

"How he pours me a cup of coffee in the morning before pouring one for himself.

"How he stops in the middle of his day to send me dirty Instant Messages when he sees me log on.

"How he slaps my ass hard when he’s fucking me to let me know he’s ready to come and how he never, ever comes unless I have, first.

"How he turns down the water temperature in the shower when I join him because he knows that if it’s too hot, it will burn my much fairer skin.

"How he forces me to sit on the other side of the bed out of arm’s reach while he masturbates himself for me to watch and go slowly insane over.

"How he silently lays in reverence next to me at night sometimes and compares his beautiful golden skin to my pale flesh.

"How he can make love to me for hours and still call it 'fucking' when it's over and how he still lets his eyes tell the truth about it that his mouth can't.

"How he whispers in my ear that he loves me when he thinks I’m sleeping."

The End

On to What They Miss- The Responses.