later2nite (later2nite) wrote,



banner and icon by soulmatejunkee

Title: THE NEW US STORIES (The Best Time of Our Life, chapter 2)
Author: later2nite
Pairing: Brian and Justin
Timeline: The first February after 513
A/N 1: Written for the Evil Kinney Girls Birthday Project for galehot.
Happy Birthday, Carmen! Hope your day is filled with happiness and love.
A/N 2: This is a continuation of my Valentine's Day fic DECISIONS.

"Christ, Justin! This is where you've been living? And I do use that term loosely!" Brian rubbed his furrowed brow and glanced around the minuscule fifth floor walk-up one more time, hoping another two thousand square feet of inhabitable living space would miraculously pop up out of nowhere. "If I'd known you were trying to survive in these dismal conditions I would have gotten my ass up here a lot sooner, if for no other reason than to fuck some sense into you!" He draped his coat over Justin's lone kitchen chair, inwardly shuddering at the thought of what creepy crawly he might find in it when he retrieved it later.

Rising on tiptoe, Justin kissed Brian's lips. "Clearly, you know nothing of the New York City experience," he started to lecture. "Granted, this place is small, and I get enough exercise to keep me from ever having to join a gym by merely climbing the stairs to get to it, but, hey, that's what it's all about here. You start out like this, and you work your way up to bigger and better things as your situation improves."

"Yeah, I get it," Brian winced. "The starving artist, and all that shit." Snaking an arm around Justin's hip, he pried his fingers down into the waistband of his jeans, groping a handful of choice flesh. "Although your ass is still plump and firm. You don't seem to be starving it!"

Justin's dick came to life, Brian's hand cupping his other ass cheek. "Brian, I'm not exactly a starving artist," he went on, smiling broadly. "My Hollywood money goes toward my spacious studio across town, and I've been eating very well. I deliberately chose not to spend much on a place that's basically a pit stop - a place to sleep every night, shower every morning, and then leave empty for the entire day. This is fine for no more than I'm here and..."

Unable to finish that statement due to the fact that Brian's tongue had found its way into the back of his throat, Justin melted a little into his boyfriend's body, still hardly believing that Brian had given orders to Ted and Cynthia to 'run a tight ship' and had flown to New York to be with him five days after his Valentine's Day card (with accompanying hand-written letter) had arrived in his mailbox. He felt Brian's dick bulging out as they kissed, automatically reaching down to unbuckle his belt.


"Shhh. No talking yet," Justin mumbled, sliding effortlessly down to his knees. It had been over two hours since their hot, desperate, GodI'vemissedyou airport men's room fuck, and he was getting antsy for Brian's cock again. "I haven't seen you in weeks. Indulge me."

"No. Indulge me." Brian forcefully pulled a horny Justin up to his face, kissing him on his forehead. "How long will it take you to pack your stuff?" Giving the sparsely furnished cracker box Justin called home the once-over, he shook his head. "It looks like you've barely settled in. I'm sure we can gather your clothes and personal belongings and be out of here in an hour."

"Be out of here in an hour?" Justin repeated. "Where the fuck are we going to go?"

"I hear the Hilton's nice. So's the Ritz-Carlton. Hell! We can stay at the Four Seasons while we look for a decent place to live. Justin, I can appreciate your 'making it on your own' strategy, and I admire you for jumping in wholeheartedly." Brian took both of Justin's hands in his before he continued. "But you're not alone anymore. If we're going to do this -" Nodding toward the card on the fridge he'd sent him a week earlier, he was referring to the contents of the letter he'd enclosed in it. " - we're going to do it in a manner befitting my prince."

Silence reigned for minutes, Brian's words sinking deeply into their heads and hearts.

"I'm... still your prince?" Justin ventured after awhile, vivid images of the country manor Brian had bought him and his second marriage proposal in its formal living room flashing before his eyes. "Brian, I..."

"Do you think I'd be here if you were a lowly duke?" Brian quipped, scrolling on his phone for the same car service he'd used to get them from JFK to Justin's apartment. "And until we can move into the palace, we've got to find accommodations fit for your station. So, as I was saying, where are your suitcases? We're burning daylight."


"Midtown. The Four Seasons," Brian told the limo driver, pulling Justin with him into the back after every last one of his bags and boxes had been loaded into the trunk. "And we're gonna need some... privacy," he added, motioning for the partition to be raised.

"Jesus, Brian," Justin laughed, nestling in against his side. "You've been in the city less than four hours and you've already uprooted me from my home."

Brian pulled Justin closer to him, kissing the side of his face. "Listen to me, Sunshine. Are you listening? The day a place like that is your home is the day I donate all my Armani to charity." His hand dropped between Justin's legs, massaging his dick through his jeans. "What did you think of my letter?" he asked softly. "We haven't talked about it yet."

Nudging his hips upward, shoving his hardening cock into Brian's palm, Justin sighed. "I'm proud of you, Brian," he whispered. "It must have been tough for you to bare your soul like that."

"Not really." Brian lowered his face to Justin's, their lips connecting sweetly. "Well, not anymore," he breathed, almost inaudibly. "This is a new beginning for me. For us," he corrected himself quickly.

Justin's balls tingled, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He'd only been out of the Pitts a few weeks and Brian had suddenly found a way to open up to him, the closed off, guarded man seemingly a thing of the past. He knew he wasn't going to last long when Brian unbuttoned his fly and grasped his throbbing cock, kneading it up and down as the pre-cum oozed from his slit.

Making out in the back of the limo like a couple of sex-crazed teenagers, Brian thought the New York phase of their lives together was getting off to a bang-up start. He felt half his age. "The new us," he whispered, just before Justin's dick erupted in his hand, strings of cum glistening on his fingertips. "What do you think?"

Justin thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Slumping against Brian in sated bliss, "I think this is the best time of our life," was the only way he could describe it.

The End

Better Than I Know Myself, chapter 3

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