Life is an Exodus
Author’s Notes:
vl_redreign
is an incredible beta. I can’t thank her enough!. Title taken from the beautiful
Erasure song “One Day.”
Graphic: This story was inspired by a stunning graphic done by
libra2.
You can view it here:
GRAPHIC
#11
* * *
It’s only time.
In the end it wasn’t time that wore on them the most, Brian realized; it was
distance. Time they could handle. They both had busy lives. Going weeks,
sometimes months without seeing each other, while not ideal, was manageable.
Phone calls and emails allowed them to be a constant presence in each other’s
lives. In some ways, Brian knew more about Justin’s life now than he had when
they both lived in Pittsburgh. And since they didn’t cling to outdated and
judgmental vows of monogamy, sex with strangers satisfied their physical needs
without it ever being an issue.
But sometimes, and no one could have been more surprised to discover this than
Brian, it was a specific touch your craved. Sometimes you needed to be with
someone who knew your body as well as you did. It was these times when the
distance between Pittsburgh and New York seemed to multiply until it became
endless.
Brian was the first to break. He was sure Justin had faced similar desires, but
he was so caught up in succeeding on his own, Brian knew he wouldn’t ask for
more than he thought Brian was willing to give. About seven months after Justin
left, Brian realized he’d snapped at four tricks for what he considered sub-par
blowjobs. After the last one flipped him off on his way out of the backroom,
Brian admitted it was Justin’s mouth he wanted.
Drunk and frustrated enough not to care how it looked, Brian called Justin and
demanded he get his ass, and more importantly, his talented tongue, back to
Pittsburgh ASAP. But it was a Tuesday night, and Justin had meetings scheduled
for the rest of the week. Bad weather canceled two flights, and it was almost a
week before Justin arrived in Pittsburgh for a visit that would last little more
than twenty-four hours.
They fucked as many times and in as many ways as they could. Justin reminded
Brian on multiple occasions just why it was his mouth Brian fantasized about.
When Justin’s visit was over, Brian sent him back not in a plane but in an SUV
with a promise to pay the exorbitant parking fees Justin was sure to encounter.
Brian had a plan.
It’s only time.
It was fun at first. They never told anyone about their meetings so the secrecy
coupled with the time restrictions made the sex that much more exciting.
Harrisburg ended up being the closest to a halfway point. When the time between
visits stretched out before them and even a weekend proved too difficult to
manage, they’d settle for a night together.
They met everywhere from seedy motels to five star resorts, rarely going to the
same place twice. Sometimes they’d look at the calendar and realizing how long
they were going to be apart, they’d schedule a stolen night or two. More often
than not they were spontaneous trips hastily thrown together when one of them,
too stressed, too lonely, too filled with need, reached out. Brian would answer
the phone and hear Justin say nothing more than please. Justin would
receive a text that said simply NOW.
If they were lucky, they were able to spend the entire night together, sometimes
even having time for breakfast before rushing back to their lives. When the
trips were fueled by desperation and crammed into too tight schedules, they had
as little as an hour together. They fucked frantically not even taking the time
to shower before going their separate ways.
Justin’s schedule was more flexible; he could generally afford to stay the
night. Brian usually left right from Kinnetik, often leaving so much work behind
that he couldn’t spare the time for both the drive back and a few hours sleep.
Even meeting halfway meant losing over six hours to travel. Justin hating
sleeping in a strange bed alone so he left when Brian did, telling him he wanted
to get back and paint. Sometimes when Justin had been pushing himself to get
ready for a show, and he looked drawn and tired, Brian promised to stay. Once
Justin fell asleep, he spent what time he could give up watching him sleep,
assuring himself that Justin was okay, before quietly slipping out the door.
Kinnetik hit a rough patch two years after Justin left. In the midst of a
particularly nasty crisis, Brian simply couldn’t do it anymore. He was an hour
out of Pittsburgh before he even called Justin. His voice must have given him
away because Justin arrived at the motel only twenty minutes after Brian. He
found Brian outside smoking and to his credit, Justin barely raised an eyebrow
when the walked into the room, and he saw what Brian left on the bed.
Brian spent a few blissful hours handcuffed and blindfolded, finally able to
give up control. Justin didn’t let him think. He teased him, tormented him,
pleasured him until all Brian could do was feel. It was exactly what he needed,
and no one but Justin could give it to him. Barely two hours after he arrived,
Brian put his suit back on and drove back to the mess he’d left behind.
It’s only time.
They couldn’t do it forever; they both knew that. Brian was more superstitious
than most people realized. Six years had become a magic number in his head. If
they survived six years apart, they’d find a way to live together. Less than
five years after Justin left, he knew something had to give.
Most people assumed Justin would be a mess right before a show, but Brian knew
the worst time would be shortly after. There was no time to freak out before a
show, and there was a flurry of activity right after-waiting for reviews,
meeting with buyers, capitalizing on momentum to schedule the next one. Once
that died down, Justin tended to crash and crash hard. Whenever possible, he
spent that time in Pittsburgh, but that didn’t always work out.
Justin’s second major solo show came at an exceptionally busy time for Kinnetik.
They’d won a few high profile awards, and interest in their services was at an
all time high. The most promising accounts demanded Brian’s personal attention,
and it was all he could do to free up three days around the show’s opening.
There was no point in Justin coming to Pittsburgh any time soon; Brian would be
too busy to see him.
When Brian got back from New York, he learned Chris Hobbs had been arrested for
a gay bashing on Liberty Avenue. This time his victim hadn’t been as lucky as
Justin. Brian called Jennifer, Debbie, and Michael and made them promise not to
say anything to Justin. Brian wanted to tell him in person. He never once
thought about Molly.
He found out later she emailed him a copy of an article detailing Hobbs’ arrest.
When Brian called Justin during a break between meetings, he knew immediately
that something was wrong. His voice was all wrong; thin and trembling, rough
like he’d been living on caffeine and cigarettes. When Brian pushed, he admitted
he’d known about Hobbs for almost a week, and that nightmares wouldn’t let him
sleep.
Brian put him on hold long enough to make a reservation at one of the nicest
places they’d stayed and to tell Cynthia he needed twenty-four hours no matter
how impossible that seemed. He kept Justin on the phone until they both got to
the hotel, not trusting Justin to make the drive alone, but knowing he couldn’t
take the time to drive all the way to the city.
The toll this had taken on Justin was obvious. He was pale with dark circles
under his eyes. Brian was torn between anger and the need to somehow fix this;
his desire to comfort Justin won. Brian led him to the shower, washing him
carefully and thoroughly. The hot water relaxed Justin, and Brian kept him in
there for a long time, caressing him gently, forcing the tension to drain away
with the water.
Once they reached the bed, Brian worshipped Justin’s body with a single-minded
devotion. Each touch was designed to bring nothing but pleasure. He took his
time, slowly building their passion again and again. When he’d brought Justin to
orgasm with both his mouth, then his cock buried deep inside him, he held him,
kissing and soothing him until he fell asleep.
Brian waited as long as he could, making sure Justin was deeply asleep, but he
couldn’t stay. He dressed reluctantly and left Justin a note telling him to stay
for a few days, that he would be back as soon as possible. Brushing one last
kiss into his hair, Brian forced himself to leave. It was one of the hardest
things he’d ever done in his life.
The long drive back was used to make new plans. He knew about the files Ted and
Cynthia had hidden away-the feasibility study into Kinnetik moving to New York,
the detailed research into Justin’s career prospects if he based himself out of
Pittsburgh. It was time to read those files. Brian would get through the most
critical meetings then he would go back to Justin. They would go over the
possibilities and make a decision. They’d been apart long enough.
Fuck time.
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