Title: The Reminder
Timeline: Post-513
Author's Notes: For xie_xie_xie, who wanted a fic where Justin watches Brian sleep. And thank you for the beta, too, Xie! ♥




I'm waiting for Brian to arrive at the gallery. I've already schmoozed the people who need schmoozing, and now I'm just wandering around, soaking it in and waiting. He's due any minute, flying straight from a business meeting in Chicago.

He's been different lately. It's subtle, he's not doing anything drastic, but every time we talk on the phone I feel him pulling back a little. I saw him six weeks ago, when I told him about the show, and ever since then I've noticed a change.

I'm pretty sure he thinks he's doing me a favor. Standing by me, but letting me know that if I want an out, he'll give it to me.

He's such an idiot sometimes.

When I left and he gave me that speech about never seeing each other again and it's only time, blah blah, I knew he meant it. He's a pessimist, it's in his nature. If Brian thought I never wanted to see him again, he'd stay out of my life. I know he'd rather die than hold me back.

I also know, without doubt, that no-one will ever love me as much as Brian Kinney does.

I wish he could just accept that the same is true for me. He's not getting rid of me. And if I have to spend the next 50 years proving it, I will.

But for now, I'm going to give him a reminder.

I think back to that first pencil drawing of Brian. It was after the fourth or fifth time we'd fucked. Brian had been a little high and a lot horny when I'd approached him at Babylon. He was just about to make a move on tall, dark and handsome when I stepped in close and pressed my body to his.

I didn't give him a chance to brush me off, I just stuck my tongue down his throat and pressed my hard on against his thigh.

He took me straight home.

After we fucked, and Brian passed out, I got a pencil and a sketchpad from my backpack and settled in at the end of the bed. I'd wanted to draw him for a while now, but this was the first time I'd remembered to bring the supplies with me.

The blue lights were on and I started sketching, pretty sure he wasn't going to wake up any time soon.

When I was done, I stayed a while longer, just watching him sleep. He was beautiful, sexy, dangerous.

I'd known him for a few weeks by then and he'd already cut me down more than once. He'd warned me not to expect anything from him. Told me he wasn't my boyfriend. Wasn't even my friend.

But other times he'd buy me a drink, dance with me, smile at me, fuck me, make me feel so desirable, so amazing, like I could do anything.

Brian Kinney was the ultimate fucking enigma, and I was determined to solve the puzzle.

* * *

I walk back over and stand in front of it, remembering. I painted it the first time Brian came to visit me in New York. He was supposed to fly in from a meeting in LA, and arrive around midnight, but the plane was delayed and he was stuck at the airport for hours.

It was 5 am when he finally arrived at the apartment, suit rumpled, looking exhausted and like the best thing I'd seen since I arrived.

I led him to my bed and stripped off his clothes, pulled off my sweat pants and shirt, and crawled into his arms. We kissed for several minutes, his fingers weaving paths through my hair, and then he said, “I never thought I'd say this Sunshine, but I think I'm too tired to fuck you.”

“So roll over,” I told him. He resisted for about half a second, then turned onto his belly.

I trailed kisses across his shoulders, down his spine. He was letting out little sighs of pleasure, and when I got to his ass, I spread his cheeks and kissed his hole, too.

I rimmed him for a long time, wanting to make him feel good. Loosening him up with my tongue and fingers.

When I finally entered him, we both held our breath for a second, Brian taking a moment to get used to the feeling again.

We rocked together for a long time before coming, and after I'd pulled out, Brian trapped my leg between his and promptly fell asleep

I stayed awake for a while, watching him sleep. The sun was just rising and the room was glowing with soft, morning light.

I looked down at Brian, reacquainting myself with his body. Trying to find any differences. His arms were a little bigger, he must have been hitting the gym pretty hard. His muscles hard under my fingertips, his skin as soft as always.

I traced his muscles, laid soft kisses on his shoulder. Watched the light play on his curves. I buried my nose in the back of his hair and breathed him in. He smelled like home.

When the urge grew too strong, I disentangled myself and dragged out paint and a canvas.

* * *

I look away from the painting and check my watch, thinking Brian should arrive any minute, when out of the corner of my eye, I see him enter.

I walk towards him, and he spots me and smiles. That small smile reserved just for me that always makes my heart beat a little faster.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” And then I kiss him.

He pulls back, smiling again. “Where's your stuff?”

“Over there.” I nod in the direction of my work and lead him over. “I'll get us a drink,” I say, and leave him to look at it.

When I return with two glasses of wine, he's in front of it. I'd hoped it would draw him in.

“This is amazing,” he says. “Why isn't it for sale?” He gestures at the small plaque, Artist's private collection – Not for sale.

“Because it's yours,” I tell him. “Do you like it?”

He looks at it again. It's a swirling mass of yellows and golds, shot through with pink and orange. It shimmers. It's the best thing I've ever painted.

“It's beautiful,” he tells me. I can't help the huge grin that breaks out.

“It's amazing, Justin. It's mine?” he asks.

I nod. “It's yours. I painted it the first time you visited me here, when you were asleep. Do you remember that morning?”

“Very well,” he says, raising an eyebrow and giving me a flash of tongue.

I feel myself blushing a little, but I want to get this out before he distracts me and I drag him to the bathroom to fuck me senseless.

“So take the painting home, and remember that I would never have painted it if not for you. And it’s my best work. So, you know, I need you. And I want you. And don't forget it, okay?”

He stares at me for a few seconds. “Okay.”

“Good. And now I need you to fuck my brains out, okay?”

He grins. “Whatever you say, Sunshine.”