The Magic of the Mattress 

“It’s the end of an era,” Justin says.

“I’m not old enough to have eras,” Brian says, and shifts a little weight onto his knees for better leverage. Justin moves with him, arching his back and sliding up under him more. His ass is aching and they’ve been fucking for hours and he doesn’t ever want to stop.

“Seriously,” he says on a long exhale. “I mean, this bed, it’s an icon of, of Liberty experience. You’re not somebody until you’ve been in Brian Kinney’s bed.”

“True,” Brian says, and he sounds far too satisfied. Hmm, Justin thinks as he starts to come. Perhaps he’s laying on the worship a little too thick. A healthy Brian ego is one thing, but insufferableness is another.

“Not that it’s any great loss or anything,” he temporizes once they’ve caught their breath. “I mean, eras end all the time.”

Brian is sprawled on his back, one arm flung across his face. He is limned ghostly ethereal in the orange lights. The sun will be rising soon, Justin knows. This is the last time they’ll fuck the night straight through in this bed, too crazed with the lights and each other to think about sleep. Tomorrow—today they’re moving out, and the loft and the bed will be someone else’s.

“We should really leave a sign on the bed,” Justin says thoughtfully into the silence. “Tell them to at least change the mattress. Because, I mean, ewww.”

“Naw.” Brian doesn’t move, but Justin knows he’s smirking. “I’m sure they’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hmm,” Justin says. “The legend of this bed is…bountiful. They might want to cash in on it.”

“Tough luck for them. The legend is actually the man,” Brian says.

“Huh,” Justin says in as noncommittal a tone as he can manage.

Brian moves then, if just a little to turn his head under his arm and frown at Justin. “You disagree?”

“Well,” Justin says, drawing the word out. “I don’t disagree, per see, but neither would I say that I agree.” He’s getting a little punchy with the tiredness, and it occurs to him that he’s being really funny. He giggles into the pillow, and Brian’s frown deepens.

“And what about all those times I fucked you in the shower or the living room or Babylon or wherever I wanted?” he asks almost sulkily.

“Flukes,” Justin says drowsily. “The…magic of the mattress was just still clinging to you. Once we move out you won’t be a good lay anymore. I’ll have to leave you for…Emmett or someone.”

“Emm—“

“And the guys moving in here will have your groove, then,” Justin continues, quite taken with the notion.

“I don’t have a—“

“And they’ll go to Babylon and all the hot guys will want them, and you’ll go and everyone’ll be all, ‘who’s that’?”

“You’re really fuc—“

“And they’ll be all, ‘didn’t that guy used to be hot?’” Justin laughs again with his own cleverness. Under the orange glow he can see the first steely glints of dawn through the window. The last night is coming to an end.

And then suddenly Brian is on him in a fluid pounce that Justin has no chance of evading, even if he wanted to.

“I don’t need this bed to fuck you just the way you like it,” Brian breathes into his ear. He’s lying prone on Justin’s back, their limbs matched up and Brian’s cheek pressed to the back of his head.

“Huh,” Justin says again because yeah, he’s really tired and yeah, there’s a lot of moving to do today, but Brian is getting hard again and Pavlov’s dogs never had it this good.

“Bet you’re sore,” Brian says suddenly, going up on his knees and elbows. He slides down and parts Justin’s buttocks, and Justin shivers hard at the feel of Brian’s breath on him. “Mmm,” Brian says thoughtfully, “a little red. I have been fucking you awful hard.”

“I’ve had worse,” Justin says, then stops to think about that. Did he just say what he meant?

Then Brian is licking him, and it doesn’t matter what he said or meant or the end of the era or moving out of the loft and moving into the new place together. Because yeah, he’s a little tender, and the rasp of Brian’s tongue around his hole is enough to make him flinch away and keen for more. Brian licks him long and wet, taking brief detours between Justin’s wide-sprawled thighs to suck at his balls until they are hanging heavy and painful. Then he works his tongue into Justin’s hole in long, slick writhes, and Justin wraps both arms around the pillow and closes his eyes. He can see the lights through his lids, and that is so integral to this, to them, to Brian and sex and everything that has been the last three years of his life (and how much of that time was spent in this bed, he wonders) that it makes his throat tighten up a little.

But then Brian slides his tongue out and his cock in, and the tightness disappears so he can moan. Brian holds his hips, then his shoulders, and takes long strokes, nearly pulling out on each one. The lewd slapping of their bodies is something Justin still isn’t entirely used to, even after all this time, and he pushes back enough to get his knees under him so he can move a little more with it. They’re both pretty tired, and Justin has no idea how many times they’ve come, and it lasts a long time. Justin lets his head fall forward onto the pillow and leaves his eyes shut. Behind him Brian is nearly silent, his breathing even and controlled as he holds Justin’s shoulders and occasionally reaches up to pet his hair.

When Justin comes, Brian slides both arms around him and holds him tight. Justin is quiet through it, then sags down against the supporting arms, utterly wrung out. Brian sighs a long breath on the back of his neck and comes.

They lie tangled up in the sheets and each other as the dawn slowly eclipses the orange lights. They’re both utterly exhausted, but they’re not going to sleep. The guys will be here in just a few hours to help with the moving thing.

“You can fuck just fine outside the bed,” Justin says finally.

“As if there was any doubt.”

“Whatever.”

It’s not the end part that’s throwing him, Justin thinks as he kisses Brian’s shoulder, it’s the beginning. The commitments are there now between them, spoken as they never were before. The word “together” has crept into both their vocabularies, both their lives, without either of them really noticing. This has always been Brian’s bed, even after he’d shared it for years, and he’s okay with that. More than okay.

But now their bed is waiting for them, and Justin isn’t sure he’s ready for that.

“Will we fuck like this in the new place?” he asks suddenly.

“I assure you, the quality of your orgasm is completely unrelated to anything but, well, me,” Brian says.

“I mean, all night,” Justin says, oddly troubled.

Brian looks at him sort of funny. “How the fuck do you think we’re going to break in the new bed?”

“Right,” Justin says, and laughs again.” Silly me.” He settles his head back on Brian’s chest and waits for the sun to finish rising.