I Stop Somewhere Waiting for You


Happy birthday ragingpixie!

I hope you had a fantastic day, Tinkiewinkie. You are brilliant and lovely and sweet, and I adore you so very much >:D<

This fic would not exist without susanderavish who was right there when I said OMG I WANT TO WRITE FIC FOR TINKIE BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE :((:(( She gave me ideas and held my hand the whole time. Tink, if you enjoy this, you can thank her for feeding me suggestions like a little fic fairy, telling me all the things you like, reading every draft along the way, and fixing all my mistakes. I love you so much SDV :X:X:X:X

Notes: Immediately post 414, no spoilers. Title from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman. Rated NC-17.

I Stop Somewhere Waiting for You

Justin stands beneath the showerhead wishing the warm spray would do more to stop his racing thoughts. Brett’s offer had been all he could think about since he first mentioned it, and Justin had been so excited to tell Brian, but a broken collarbone had derailed his plans. From the moment he returned to Pittsburgh, Justin had been caught up in a flurry of activity -- Brian needed x-rays and had complained every step along the way, and later Deb had forced Justin to eat two servings of lasagna while he listened to six different versions of the events of the Liberty Ride. The craziness had only subsided when Brian had finally fallen asleep. For the first time since Brett mentioned working more extensively on the movie, Justin had forgotten all about it, but while Brian slept, it came back with full force.

Brian had woken up seemingly well rested, and thanks to a combination of legitimately prescribed painkillers and Brian’s own personal stash of pills, he appeared to be feeling pretty good. But before Justin could say a word, Brian had started getting all maudlin, and then he had shocked Justin with his suggestion.

Brian’s words echo in his ears: I want you to move back in.

If either the opportunity to work on Rage or the offer to move in with Brian had presented itself alone, Justin wouldn’t require a second thought. He’s ready to move his life forward, but while both options allow him the chance to do so, they unfortunately move him in very different directions.


Justin wraps a blue towel around his waist and heads into the bedroom where Brian is on his back in bed, wearing his button-down shirt and sling. His pants are off, but his briefs are still on and Justin feels a twinge in his cock at the sight of Brian’s long bare legs and the faint outline of his half-hard dick through the dark cotton.

“You’re still dressed.”

Brian doesn’t reply or look up, he just gestures to his sling in disgust.

Justin closes the distance between them and sits on the edge of the bed next to Brian, leaning over and kissing him briefly on the lips. When Justin moves to pull away, he feels Brian grab the back of his head, his hand sliding though his still damp hair, holding him in place.

“Stay here,” he whispers against Justin’s mouth, so Justin relaxes into Brian’s arms and carefully stretches out over him, holding himself slightly above Brian’s body so as not to bump his shoulder. Brian spreads his legs so Justin can slip between them, and almost immediately, Brian lifts his hips and thrusts, their cocks lining up with practiced ease. It feels good, but the sensation is muffled through the thick, plush towels Brian buys, so Justin grinds down hard, eager for more friction. His eyes fall shut as he falls into a steady rhythm of thrusting his own dick against Brian’s, and when he opens his eyes and sees Brian below him still wearing his sling, a thought occurs to him.

“Why do I feel like I’m James Spader and you’re Holly Hunter?”

“Fuck you.”

Justin laughs and kisses Brian again, before lifting himself onto his forearms and hovering over him.

“Sit up,” he whispers in Brian’s ear.

Brian struggles to pull himself up off the bed, so Justin reaches around to brace his back as Brian uses his good arm for leverage, keeping the other one tight against his side. After pulling on the Velcro straps, Justin carefully takes the sling off, Brian watching silently the entire time.

Justin slowly unbuttons Brian’s shirt, letting his fingers trail across the smooth skin of his chest.

“I can’t believe you rode that far with a broken collarbone. What exactly were you trying to prove?” He pauses for a second, his hands still on Brian’s shirt.

Brian meets his gaze and cocks an eyebrow. “What makes you think I was trying to prove anything?”

Justin rolls his eyes and tries not to laugh. “Just a guess.”

Justin finishes unbuttoning the shirt and spreads it open across Brian’s chest, running his hand from Brian’s neck down to his belly, avoiding his left shoulder and coming to rest at his waist. He slips his fingers under the waistband and rubs Brian’s skin, brushing lightly over the tip of his dick. Justin watches as Brian’s cock swells, pressing against the material of his briefs, and he cups him gently, giving Brian’s dick a small squeeze.

Wrapping his hand around Brian’s neck, Justin leans in to kiss him, trying to move himself to Brian rather than pulling Brian into him. All of the nerve endings in his body ignite as their tongues twist together, and Justin has to fight the urge to throw his arms around Brian and squeeze; instead he focuses all of his energy and concentration on the taste and feel of the mouth against his.

Justin stops to get Brian’s shirt all the way off, starting with his good arm. The left side is a bit more difficult, but with some careful maneuvering and hopefully little pain for Brian, Justin manages to pull it free and tosses the shirt aside.

Justin kisses a path down Brian’s neck and across his chest, giving his left side a wide berth. Brian’s skin is soft and warm, and Justin eagerly inhales the familiar intoxicating smell. Pausing in front of Brian’s left collarbone, he brings his face close, breathing gently on the injured area. Although he can feel Brian watching him, he doesn’t look up, and he moves forward until his lips barely graze the skin.

“Does is hurt?” Justin leans back slightly, looking up at Brian.

Brian shakes his head and chuckles. “Nope. Drugs.”

Justin returns his attention to Brian’s chest, kissing soft trails up and down, savoring the taste of his skin, stopping occasionally to tease his nipples with his teeth until Brian nudges him gently.

“Stand up.”

Justin stands at the edge of the bed, a few feet in front of Brian.

“Take off your towel.”

Justin pulls at the towel and lets it fall to the ground. His cock is already hard from kissing and tasting Brian, and he watches as hungry eyes travel over his body. Brian’s gaze fixes on Justin’s dick and he blinks heavily, making Justin even more aroused, and Justin feels a pang of frustration that Brian will not be fucking him tonight.

“I haven’t fucked you in more than a week,” Brian huffs echoing Justin’s thoughts.

“This sucks,” Justin says.

Brian looks up at him with a gleam in his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“So roll over,” Justin grins.

Brian raises an eyebrow and smirks. “In your dreams, Sunshine.”

Justin holds back a laugh because while Brian talks a good game, they both know that Justin can have Brian flipped over on his stomach with his ass in the air in about five seconds flat, but that isn’t going to work with Brian’s injury either.

“Come closer,” Brian murmurs in that warm, seductive voice that goes right to Justin’s cock every time, and he steps forward so that he’s standing between Brian’s spread knees, his dick pointing at Brian’s chest.

“Touch yourself,” Brian breathes, and Justin doesn’t need to be told twice.

He wraps his hand around his own cock and starts to stroke slowly at first, but it’s not long before he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut as he rapidly jerks himself off. Justin knows he’s not going to last long and as he speeds up toward his impeding orgasm, he feels a hand on his, stilling his movements, and he opens his eyes to see Brian watching him with a sharp look on his face.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Justin pulls his hand out from under Brian’s and thrusts eagerly into his fist. “Then you do it.”

Brian starts to stroke him gently but firmly. “Like this. And keep your eyes open.”

Justin watches as Brian’s hand slides up and down on his cock and Christ-- it feels so fucking good. For a moment he is once again amazed at how Brian can do a better job than he can, but then Brian’s thumb brushes over his slit, swirling in the drops of pre-come that have gathered there, and Justin can only focus on the jolts of pleasure coursing through his body as Brian jerks him off. A moan escapes from his throat when Brian brings his hand to his mouth and licks his thumb, but then Brian returns his hand to his own lap rather than Justin’s dick.

“Don’t stop.” Justin is aware that he’s dangerously close to whimpering.

“I’m hurt,” Brian says with a wicked smile. “And I want to watch.”

Justin sighs in frustration but resumes stroking his cock, mimicking Brian’s slower motion. Fixing his eyes on Brian’s, he increases the pace a little and soon Brian is rubbing himself over his briefs, matching Justin’s movements.

Before Justin’s brain has registered that Brian has stopped touching himself and has his fingers in his mouth, Brian reaches around and slides one finger into his ass all at once. Justin gasps and his knees quiver as he struggles to remain standing, but he manages to spread his legs slightly to give Brian more room, pushing back against his hand.

“Do you like that?” Brian asks as he slowly slides his finger in and out of Justin’s ass. The tingle that was concentrated in his dick starts to spread outward and Justin can only nod in response. When Brian adds a second finger and fucks him faster, Justin’s head falls back again and his eyelids flutter shut.

Brian’s voice is low but stern: “I said, keep your eyes open.”

Justin struggles to open his eyes as Brian slides his fingers all the way into Justin’s ass, twisting them slightly.

“Did you miss this, Sunshine?”

“Yes,” Justin groans just as Brian’s fingers brush his prostate. “Oh fuck.”

The combination of Brian’s lustful gaze, his own hand on his cock, and the fingers in his ass is enough to finally send him over the edge and Justin strokes two more times before coming all over Brian’s chest, leaning onto Brian’s good shoulder so he doesn’t fall down.

Justin catches his breath for a moment, his hand still resting on Brian’s shoulder, and when his thoughts come back into focus, he notices that Brian is again stroking himself.

Sinking down onto his knees in front of Brian, Justin grips the waistband of his briefs, and Brian lifts up slightly, allowing Justin to pull them off. Brian tries to push Justin’s face down to his dick, but Justin shakes his head with a grin and places Brian’s own hand there instead.

Justin watches for a moment, knowing that he’ll never get tired of the sight of Brian’s hand sliding up and down on his perfect cock, and he feels his own dick start to stir again. When he leans into Brian, running his tongue over his chest, scooping up his own come, Brian’s breath catches in his throat and his movements speed up. Justin doesn’t swallow and a moment later Brian’s hand leaves his dick and is in Justin’s hair, pulling his head up. When their lips come together, Brian sucks on Justin’s tongue and moans softly into his mouth.

Brian stops kissing him, but keeps his forehead pressed to Justin’s and whispers, “More.”

Justin returns to Brian’s chest, gathering up the rest of his come before bringing their mouths together again. After Brian finishes sweeping Justin’s tongue clean with his own, he pulls back slightly until their faces are just inches apart. “You taste good,” Brian murmurs softly.

Justin smiles. “I know.”

Brian’s eyes are glazed over and his breath is ragged and Justin can tell he’s already close to coming. When Justin buries his face in Brian’s crotch, letting his dick rub against his cheek as he nuzzles his balls, Brian groans and thrusts slightly against Justin’s face. In California, Justin saw plenty of dicks, but none of them looked or tasted or smelled just like Brian and he is momentarily overwhelmed.

“Oh God, Brian. I missed sucking your cock.”

“Then do it.” Brian’s voice is low and smooth, but Justin hears a note of urgency just below the surface.

He runs his tongue up the shaft and swirls it around Brian’s soft head, eliciting a gasp from above him. When Justin opens his mouth and sucks Brian’s cock, Brian sighs and lifts his hips slightly. This is usually when Brian would start to fuck his face, but Justin knows he can’t since he’s unable to use his hands to brace himself on the bed, so Justin swallows his dick to the hilt. As he listens to Brian moan in response to his actions, Justin realizes how much he really did miss Brian’s dick, and the rest of him too.

Justin’s mind starts to drift to the prospect of six months apart, but Brian’s soft grunts bring him back to reality and he pushes the thoughts away and tries to focus on this moment: the feel of Brian’s cock sliding all the way down his throat, the hand in his hair guiding his movement, the way Brian’s stomach muscles clench and his legs shake on either side of his head.

He loves the way he can anticipate exactly which sounds Brian will make in response to his actions and he uses that knowledge to coax a variety of delicious noises from Brian’s mouth: Brian moans when Justin bobs his head rapidly on his dick, hisses when he lightly grazes his teeth along the shaft, and groans deep in his chest when Justin deep throats him and suctions his mouth tightly around his cock.

Justin grips Brian’s thighs as a hand twists almost painfully in his hair, and when Brian comes, Justin pulls back to catch some of it in his mouth, needing to taste him again.

After he lets Brian’s spent cock slip out of his mouth, Justin swallows and gives a satisfied sigh, looking up at him from between his legs.

“You taste good, too.”

Brian smiles and pulls him up for a kiss.

“I know.”


Justin returns from the bathroom to see Brian sitting on the bed with a frustrated look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to sleep on your side of the bed. Otherwise you’ll be on my left and I don’t want you to fuck up my shoulder.”

Brian looks so annoyed at the idea of switching sides that Justin almost laughs out loud, but he knows this is deadly serious to Brian.

“What if I promise to be really careful and stay all the way at the edge?”

Brian looks incredulous. “You? Stay on your side? Unlikely. You can’t last two minutes before you’re crawling all over me.”

Justin doesn’t bring up the fact that Brian is nearly incapable of staying put once he’s asleep. No matter how angry or annoyed Brian is when he goes to bed, as soon as he starts to snore softly, Brian’s chest affixes itself to Justin’s back with one arm locked against Justin’s chest for good measure.

Brian slowly lays flat on his back on Justin’s side of the bed, and Justin carefully eases in beside him, leaning up on one elbow.

“Be careful you don’t roll over to snuggle with me and fall right out of bed.” Justin quickly kisses Brian before he can reply, and settles down on Brian’s good shoulder, curling up against his side. The nights had been when he’d missed Brian the most, and only now that they’re together in bed, does he finally feel like he’s home.

“You didn’t answer me.” Brian’s voice breaks the warm, comfortable silence.

Justin knows exactly what he’s talking about, and he lifts his head up, feeling a discomforting mix of excitement and dread in his gut at the look on Brian’s face.

There was a time when Justin would have turned his back on his future for the chance to be with Brian. But now things are more complicated-- now Brian is his future, but at the same time, Brett offered him an opportunity he can’t possibly refuse.

“I really meant what I said,” Justin finally says. “I have been waiting for you to ask me to move in since we first met.”

“I know,” Brian says simply, and there isn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“For real this time, right? You and me-- partners.”

“Right,” Brian answers. “You remember that I’m the one who asked you to move in with me?”

Brian is smiling now, and Justin feels his heart swell tightly in his chest. Fuck the movie and fuck Brett and fuck Hollywood-- this is about Brian and the future and forever; everything else is just temporary.

He knows he’ll go-- he can’t possibly say no to the opportunity of a lifetime, but he’ll come back and Brian will be here waiting with room in his drawers.

He kisses Brian softly on the lips before resting his head on his shoulder again. He can tell Brian about California later.

“I’ll move my stuff in tomorrow.”