A very specific kind of Justin kink . . . 

A few years ago, Brian would’ve defined home by means of address, postal code and his name tag on the front door. These days, home was where Justin was, plain and simple.

During the last few days, I had seriously considered the possibility of letting Justin top me.

Justin is never found in New York, when Brian kicked him out.

This does contain Mpreg.

This is one of the sexiest Brian/Justin stories in the fandom, hands down! The boys prove that they can communicate beautifully with no words. It's totally worth a read - charming1

Brian and Justin decide that words are overrated...

He smiles at me when he sees me at the baggage claim, says nothing before he kisses me; he’s still kissing me when the obnoxious sirens start clanging and the suitcases start tumbling onto the belt. He can kiss me and watch for his luggage at the same time. He knows how to multi-task.

Brian and Justin experience a First. Set somewhere in early to mid-season 1

Brian had no idea how Justin could live this parallel life. How was it possible for Justin to split himself in two like that? To live with him, whilst stealing away to someone else, then returning home as if nothing had happened? Brian had never felt so betrayed, full of rage, and painfully manipulated in his life.

Gapfiller for 219, in which Brian and Justin descend towards a confrontation over Ethan, and follows through 220.

Co-written with ebbj9891 (on ao3)

My attraction to Brian has many facets. There are the reasons that everyone is attracted to him—because he’s beautiful, confident, and unbelievably smart, but then there are other reasons that few understand. Brian has an intensity about him that rivals the best book you’ve ever read or the most suspenseful movie you’ve ever seen. Every moment with him feels saturated—heavy and full, almost optimized, as if there’s nothing else I should be doing.

"Is your name Buyan?"

What happens when Mr. Girraffeman won't leave?

Some words wound. Others heal.

You leave him begging for more in the hopes he will finally see the words right in front of him. Etched into the long lines of his back. Dripping down his chin. Carved into his knees. Every part of him a part of you.