Gift # 19 of 36
Dec. 30th, 2012 02:15 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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maybe742
FROM:bidyke73
TITLE: Fucking allergies!
GIFT REQUEST: post-513 (rating is author's choice) Brian/Justin Brian stopped smoking. How does he get along with it? And why did he quit? What does the gang and Justin say? I don't know. Do you?" Other Specifications: It can be drabble or a short fic. The length doesn't matter. I never know what I should ask for. So, every drabble or fiction in return will do it in the end, as long it's Brian/Justin - oh and Drew/Emmett would be okay too :)
NOTE: My muses didn't really cooperate with this assignment at first for two reasons: For one, I already wrote a set of drabbles about that topic. It's here: http://bidyke73.livejournal.com/8061.html
Second reason: I had planned to write this during the longest Christmas holiday I ever had. But then, there was this really bad cold that knocked me down for nearly two weeks and made me dizzy in the head. So I am very last minute as always. This is unbeta-ed yet, but I promise that there will be a beta-ed version on my LJ later.
Fucking allergies!
Six drabbles
Ever since the big C, the twat wanted me to quit smoking. However, we both loved our post-coital cigarette too much to give it up. Unlike me, Justin never really smoked regularly, he just sneaked cigarettes from me all the time; sometimes at Babylon, but mostly at the loft, right after sex. We had a lot of sex, so really he also smoked a lot theoe days. It became part of our rituals, our non-verbal communication. Looking for the smoke rings to disappear in the blue light, our bodies still slightly touching. Inhale. Exhale. It felt calm and comfortable.
*
Right after Justin went to New York, his allergies became worse. As a result, he couldn't stand cigarette smoke anymore. At first, I just stopped smoking in his presence, but it turned out that he also had mild reactions to the cold smoke that lingered in my clothes and in the loft. To be honest, I have always loved cigarettes. My oral fixation. If it had been for my own health, I probably wouldn't have stopped voluntarily, but triggering his asthma meant that he couldn't blow me properly, which of course was a perfectly rational reason to change my habits.
*
To give both of us a break, I had booked us a vacation. Ibiza - at last. After six years of our non-relationship and non-marriage, it was the first time we traveled together. Hell, we hadn't even managed to do the Liberty Ride together. Twenty-hours of traveling wasn't exactly fun, but here we are now, enjoying the men and the sun and the healthy sea breeze.
"It feel like Thomas Mann in The Magic Mountain." I look at Justin, lying naked on his sunbed, slightly shivering because the last rays of sunshine just disappeared into the sea. How ridiculously romantic!
*
"Don't fall asleep, Sunshine. I still have plans for tonight."
"You do? I thought we'd rather just cuddle," he says, trying hard not to burst into laughter.
I'm in a good mood, even though I don't exactly cherish that particular memory, but it feels good to be at ease with everything that happened in the past. Even better to be at ease with living in the now. "WHAT?" I grab him and carry him over the threshold of our sun terrace, back into our hotel room, and throw him onto the bed while he laughs and squirms in my arms.
*
"Tell you what," I tell him and pin him to the mattress, "somebody once told me that Brian Kinney fucks, sucks, rims, rams, but NEVER cuddles."
"Huh." Justin laughs so hard that tears run down his cheeks. When he starts to cough, I give him a little more space, but he recovers quickly. "Promises, promises."
"Need a demonstration of my best fucking qualities, you little twat?"
I attack his mouth, and then our bodies take over like they always do. I wouldn't admit it in public, but it's true. Fucking him, rimming him, ramming him means making love to him.
*
And after sex, we do cuddle. We always did, but sharing a cigarette after sex felt more distant somehow. There's no need anymore for that distance. I stay inside him for a few minutes longer, carefully slipping my dick out of his ass and replace it with two of my fingers. He moans sleepily and moves his heated body even closer to mine. I inhale his scent deeply.
"Missing your cigarette?" He smiles. I shake my head. "No, not at all."
"You know," he grins deviously, "I might become allergic to condoms some day. How do you feel about that?"
maybe742FROM:
bidyke73TITLE: Fucking allergies!
GIFT REQUEST: post-513 (rating is author's choice) Brian/Justin Brian stopped smoking. How does he get along with it? And why did he quit? What does the gang and Justin say? I don't know. Do you?" Other Specifications: It can be drabble or a short fic. The length doesn't matter. I never know what I should ask for. So, every drabble or fiction in return will do it in the end, as long it's Brian/Justin - oh and Drew/Emmett would be okay too :)
NOTE: My muses didn't really cooperate with this assignment at first for two reasons: For one, I already wrote a set of drabbles about that topic. It's here: http://bidyke73.livejournal.com/8061.html
Second reason: I had planned to write this during the longest Christmas holiday I ever had. But then, there was this really bad cold that knocked me down for nearly two weeks and made me dizzy in the head. So I am very last minute as always. This is unbeta-ed yet, but I promise that there will be a beta-ed version on my LJ later.
Fucking allergies!
Six drabbles
Ever since the big C, the twat wanted me to quit smoking. However, we both loved our post-coital cigarette too much to give it up. Unlike me, Justin never really smoked regularly, he just sneaked cigarettes from me all the time; sometimes at Babylon, but mostly at the loft, right after sex. We had a lot of sex, so really he also smoked a lot theoe days. It became part of our rituals, our non-verbal communication. Looking for the smoke rings to disappear in the blue light, our bodies still slightly touching. Inhale. Exhale. It felt calm and comfortable.
*
Right after Justin went to New York, his allergies became worse. As a result, he couldn't stand cigarette smoke anymore. At first, I just stopped smoking in his presence, but it turned out that he also had mild reactions to the cold smoke that lingered in my clothes and in the loft. To be honest, I have always loved cigarettes. My oral fixation. If it had been for my own health, I probably wouldn't have stopped voluntarily, but triggering his asthma meant that he couldn't blow me properly, which of course was a perfectly rational reason to change my habits.
*
To give both of us a break, I had booked us a vacation. Ibiza - at last. After six years of our non-relationship and non-marriage, it was the first time we traveled together. Hell, we hadn't even managed to do the Liberty Ride together. Twenty-hours of traveling wasn't exactly fun, but here we are now, enjoying the men and the sun and the healthy sea breeze.
"It feel like Thomas Mann in The Magic Mountain." I look at Justin, lying naked on his sunbed, slightly shivering because the last rays of sunshine just disappeared into the sea. How ridiculously romantic!
*
"Don't fall asleep, Sunshine. I still have plans for tonight."
"You do? I thought we'd rather just cuddle," he says, trying hard not to burst into laughter.
I'm in a good mood, even though I don't exactly cherish that particular memory, but it feels good to be at ease with everything that happened in the past. Even better to be at ease with living in the now. "WHAT?" I grab him and carry him over the threshold of our sun terrace, back into our hotel room, and throw him onto the bed while he laughs and squirms in my arms.
*
"Tell you what," I tell him and pin him to the mattress, "somebody once told me that Brian Kinney fucks, sucks, rims, rams, but NEVER cuddles."
"Huh." Justin laughs so hard that tears run down his cheeks. When he starts to cough, I give him a little more space, but he recovers quickly. "Promises, promises."
"Need a demonstration of my best fucking qualities, you little twat?"
I attack his mouth, and then our bodies take over like they always do. I wouldn't admit it in public, but it's true. Fucking him, rimming him, ramming him means making love to him.
*
And after sex, we do cuddle. We always did, but sharing a cigarette after sex felt more distant somehow. There's no need anymore for that distance. I stay inside him for a few minutes longer, carefully slipping my dick out of his ass and replace it with two of my fingers. He moans sleepily and moves his heated body even closer to mine. I inhale his scent deeply.
"Missing your cigarette?" He smiles. I shake my head. "No, not at all."
"You know," he grins deviously, "I might become allergic to condoms some day. How do you feel about that?"
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no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 01:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 12:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 02:13 am (UTC)Happy New Year!
Dee Dee
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Date: 2013-01-02 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 10:42 am (UTC)The last drabble is perfect - what I had in mind. And the others are a wonderful bonus.
Again, thank you and I wish you a fantastic 2013!! *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 12:38 am (UTC)*hugs back* Sabine
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Date: 2012-12-31 05:12 pm (UTC)Sitting here with a huge smile. =)
no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-01 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 03:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-03 03:35 pm (UTC)would love to read a sequel of this :)
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Date: 2013-01-03 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-04 04:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-09 01:41 am (UTC)