Subconscious
Justin doesnt think Brian knows that hes started sleep-fucking.
Justin's woken up at least three times in the past month to Brian mounting him
from behind, and when he turns his head to tell Brian for fuck's sake, use more
lube, he's always found Brian in a state of half-hypnosis.
Justin thinks maybe it's some sort of symptom of stress, since Brian had never
done it before he lost his job. And his car. And the entire contents of his
loft.
Justin figures he better not say anything.
Instead, he chooses to reap the benefits, because Justin has discovered a new
intensity Brian has about him when he sleep-fucks that isn't there while he's
awake. Justin knows that if he tries to get behind Brian's defenses during sex,
Brian picks up on it immediately and gets pissed.
"Fuck, Justin! he says. Why does everything have to mean
something? Can't I kiss your forehead without you psychoanalyzing it into a
proposal of marriage?"
Justin knows the problem isn't with him, but with the disruption of pleasure.
Disrupt Brian's focus on the animal rawness of sex, and pay for it later. Justin
has come home many times after such arguments to find Brian fucking a trick
over the kitchen counter. Brian always shoots him a triumphant glare that says
see, you idiotic little twat, I can find someone who knows sex is just sex
and a fuck is just a fuck and quit making things so goddamn complicated.
But when he's asleep ... he's quite suggestible, Justin realizes, and also
very complacent.
Like now, when Justin wakes up in the heavy darkness to Brian sliding a hand
in between his legs. He shakes off the drowsiness, turns to his back and murmurs,
"Jerk me off."
Brian does, slowly. Brian won't jerk him while he's awake because it takes Justin
a damn long time to come that way, and Brian's all about the instant gratification.
Justin gets bitter about that from time to time.
But when Brian's asleep, things are a little different.
Justin stretches out with his hands over his head and one leg bent at the knee,
letting Brian stroke him leisurely. He looks to the bedside table and eyes the
bottle of lotion, then reaches out and hooks it with two fingers. "Here,"
he whispers to Brian, "use this." And he pumps a palmful into Brian's
hand.
Brian coats him liberally, the lotion warming from the friction, and Justin
cracks open one eye to make sure Brians still out of it. His eyes are
half-closed and he breathes deeply. A good sign, Justin thinks, so he leans
back and relaxes.
Its the best handjob Justin has ever had, and he has to whip the pillow
out from under his head at the last minute to cover his mouth when he comes.
* * *
Three nights later, Justin is wide awake when he gets home and still glowing
from E. He trails around the loft and watches the ceiling shimmer for a while
before wondering if Brian wants to fool around.
A covert glance toward the bedroom tells him that Brians asleep and has
been that way for some time, judging from his breathing. The opportunity is
ripe for the taking. Justin wanders in that general direction, shedding clothes
as he goes and trying to blink the drugs sparkle from his brain.
He slides into bed, trying for stealth but getting a clumsy foot tangled in
the sheets. Justin freezes when Brian turns over with a sigh, thinking its
finished, forget it, looks like hes bottoming yet again
but Brians
eyes dont open.
Justin studies him carefully, noting the absence of stress lines and the natural
curve of Brians top lip. His lashes are silky and dark against his cheek
and maybe its the E and maybe it isnt, but Justin wants to touch
them. He wants to feel the tiny fringe against his fingertip because Brian would
never let him while he was awake; Brian would never let him do a lot of things
while he was awake.
Especially this, Justin thinks, and slides a leg over Brians bare ass,
growing even harder against Brians hip. Brian shifts beneath him and sighs
lightly, separating his legs a fraction of an inch. And this too, Justin knows,
centering himself and closing his eyes against the coolness of Brians
skin against his cock. Brians let him top before not often, though
its happened a few times but its always done with a certain
amount of benevolence and sarcasm, and Justin is left with a vague feeling of
dissatisfaction.
Not tonight.
Tonight, Justin is the one lubing himself up over the condom, holding his dick
in his hand while he probes for Brians entrance. Justin would probably
have some guilt at taking advantage if Brian didnt look so ready for it,
if he wasnt lying there with his legs spread and his ass in the air. And
when Justin slides in so easily, with little resistance, he doesnt feel
any contrition at all. Especially when he sees Brians tongue come out
and moisten his bottom lip, and unconsciously pulls one leg up further to allow
Justin access.
He wants to talk while he fucks him, because thats the best way Justin
knows to stay connected and not feel like its just another nameless trick,
but he doesnt dare say a word and risk breaking the stillness. He concentrates
instead on the smooth skin beneath him, putting the memories of it away because
its not likely to happen again anytime soon, and strokes deeply.
They come almost at the same time, and its not poetic or fateful or magical
like dual orgasms are in the books. Its hard and brutal and Justin wants
to cry out, but clamps his lips between his teeth at the last second.
He wonders if he can clean the mess without Brian waking up.
* * *
The quality of the sex varies, sometimes Brian can go for an hour and sometimes
its ten minutes. And once or twice, much to Justins disappointment,
he seems to fall back into real sleep and forgets that Justins dick is
in his mouth.
But the episodes get more and more frequent, until Justin is being woken up
at least once a night for some form of sexual activity. He wonders why Brian
hasnt noticed they never do it in the daytime any more.
Justin tries to wake him up once, just to see what will happen, even though
he has the old wives tale in his head about not waking a sleepwalker.
Or a sleepfucker.
Brian, Justin murmurs, when hes woken up for the second time
in one night by Brian climbing on top of him. Brian. Hey. He wriggles
out from under him and puts a hand on his shoulder.
Brian blinks slowly and looks at the empty space Justin has vacated. Justin
can see his eyes are still glazed. When he keeps staring at the rumpled sheet
in confusion, Justin gives in and lies down in front of him. Brian picks up
where he left off, and Justin doesnt try to wake him up again.
* * *
The lack of sleep is affecting them both. Rarely a day passes without either
of them sniping at the other.
Dont use so much oregano in the sauce. Christ, theres other
spices.
Fuck off, Brian, I dont see you making dinner. And would it kill
you to put out the goddamned plates on the counter? Spaghettis almost
ready.
We already had that this week.
Justin resists the urge to slam the wooden spoon hes holding into the
sauce, although he knows it would make a satisfying splatter across the stove.
He places it into the pot gently, and turns around.
I am going to Woodys, he says carefully. Make your own
fucking dinner.
He uses the last of yesterdays tips to buy a basket of french fries, and
smothers them in ranch dressing and barbeque sauce. Justin takes a passive-aggressive
satisfaction in knowing that Brian would have a fit if he saw the carb intake.
A lean, muscular brunet eyes him from the other side of the pool table, so Justin
follows him to the back. Theres a curious sort of satisfaction in fucking
someone whos awake.
Afterward, even though what he really wants to do is go home because hes
exhausted, Justin plays a round of pool by himself and eavesdrops.
no. Havent seen him, the hot bartender shrugs, polishing
a glass, and the blond hes talking to doesnt bother to hide his
glum expression.
Justin knows who they mean. Justin always knows who they mean.
He didnt look so good the last time he was here, anyway, the
bartender continues, oblivious to Justin edging closer to the bar. Matching
set of luggage under his eyes. Kinneys looking old.
They both laugh, and even though its only a case of sour grapes, Justin
has a fierce surge of protectiveness and fury that he knows Brian would snort
at.
He throws his pool cue onto the table and stalks out the door.
* * *
He expects to have to wait up for Brian, but finds him stretched out on the
floor under the window, reading one of Justins art books on Diego Rivera.
I like his work, Brian says, and Justin knows its supposed
to be an apology.
You would, Justin replies, and drops to the floor.
Whats that mean?
He was a social realist. He focused specifically on the social problems
and hardships of everyday life. Political art like Riveras was out of
favor in his time.
A corner of Brians mouth lifts. Sounds more like you than me.
Yeah, well. Ill be appreciated when Im dead then, I guess.
Justin sits cross-legged next to Brians shoulder and takes the book from
him. He looks at the artwork with a practiced eye.
Brian turns to his stomach and pillows his head on his arms. He cocks an eyebrow
up at Justin. I appreciate some parts of you more than others.
Youve been waking me up at night, Justin says abruptly, snapping
the book shut.
I dont snore.
Not with snoring. And yes, you do. But it isnt that.
Brian waits quietly.
Justin shifts uncomfortably on the hard floor. Its, uh. Different.
I mean.
Spit it out.
Did you know we have sex while youre asleep?
Brian lifts his head. What do you mean, asleep?
Like, asleep! Like, youre not awake! And youve been waking
me up so we can fuck and youre all weird and nice and gentle and its
weird, okay, Brian, its just weird. Justin thinks he might
sound a little childish, but fuck, it had stopped being sort of fun a while
ago, and now it was just freaking him out.
Weird? Whats weird about it?
You jerked me off and let me top.
Brians eyebrows raise in surprise and Justin thinks Brian might get it
now.
So
whats the problem? Im not good when Im asleep?
Youre always good.
I know.
Justin doesnt know why Brian isnt more weirded out by the weirdness.
He isnt that concerned at all, Justin realizes. Either that, or Brians
more tired than he thought, because when Justin blurts out, I think its
a sign of stress, Brian puts his head back down on his arms.
Probably, Brian agrees. Im entitled to some.
This is more self-introspection in one night than Brians made in the three-plus
years Justins known him. It creeps him out.
Okay, so, can you stop doing it?
I didnt know I was.
Now you do. The first step is to recognize theres a problem.
Since when is sex a problem?
Since it wakes me up at three in the morning every night!
Why, Sunshine. Could it be that youre actually getting old? Dont
tell me you really think a bed is for sleeping. Brian grins devilishly
at him and Justin starts to feel better.
Have you not noticed the lack of fucking in our relationship? During the
day, I mean? Justin yawns and wonders what time it is.
Brian shrugs. Didnt think about it. I get enough cock. What relationship?
Asshole, Justin says, and hits him in the arm.
Brian slides over and lays his head in Justins lap, nuzzling at the buttonfly
of his jeans. Im awake now, he says unnecessarily, and Justins
dick twitches in response.
Can I top? Justin tests, and is rewarded with a sharp bark of laughter
from Brian.
Guess again.
They end up on their sides, a position Justin favors because its the one
Brian used most frequently after he was hit with a bat by ChrisfuckingHobbs,
and Justin equates it with tenderness.
As much tenderness as Brian is capable of, anyway.
The wood floor bites into Justins hipbone but he doesnt care, it
doesnt matter because Brians rocking him with his thrusts, snaking
an arm over Justins side and gripping his cock in a sure hand.
Its just different, Justin thinks, when your partner is actually awake.
Not so lonely.
And then Brian is whispering his name into the back of his hair, making it sound
low and sleek and dirty, nuzzling Justins ear and taking harsh breaths,
and Justin revels in the realness of it.
* * *
Three weeks later, Justin wakes up to strong fingers wrapping around his cock.
He turns to his back and sighs, ready to nudge Brian awake and forgo a good
handjob.
Brians eyes are wide open and glinting at him with amusement in the darkness.
Justin grins.
~End