Stuck In… a series of porn fics
Title: Stuck in a Ridiculously Romantic Memory…
Story Type: AU
Word Count: 2773
Rating: R, Porn…
Warnings: Passion and Lust…
Beta Queen: BigJ52

Summary: Post 513… Justin finds Brian’s box of memorabilia when he’s packing to move to Britin.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are property of their respective owners, including, but not limited to Russell T. Davies, Cowlip, and Showtime. The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended…

Stuck in a Ridiculously Romantic Memory…

Justin’s POV

I’m tired from packing all these boxes that are now stacked up against the wall near the door. The moving company will be here soon. I know Brian said that I could have them pack all the boxes as well. But I really wanted to go through everything and pack them myself, so everything is already grouped and ready for each room. Wow, I can’t even believe we’re really moving to Britin today. I feel like I’m Cinderella awaiting my carriage. I never thought that today would come.

I’m just taking one last look around to see if I missed anything. We’re remodeling the loft as a satellite office for Kinnetik. Sometimes it’s too loud and hectic for Brian to be able to concentrate, now that it’s grown into one of North America’s major advertising firms. It’s then that I see just the edge of the old newspaper, sticking out from under the wood trim in the bottom of the closet.

I pull out the old wrinkled newspaper, it’s the sports section. I almost crumpled it up and threw it in the trash, but the headline catches my eye. ‘Local Soccer Star Wins State Championship.’ Below is a very young Brian in his uniform, already looking like a stud with his taut thigh muscles and firm biceps. I can’t help fantasizing about Brian in his uniform, pinning me to the locker room walls.

I‘m not sure when I started, but I’m in full glory when I hear the moving men in the kitchen. Looking up, I see him standing next to me, asking about the boxes just as I shoot. Cum dripping from my hands, I’m totally blushing as I look at him. He asks if I need any help cleaning up. He reaches for me but I push his hand away and go to the bathroom.

I can’t believe I still get so fucking excited just seeing an old weathered newspaper clipping of him, it makes me insanely hard. Must be love. I come back and put the clipping in my pocket and start directing the moving crew, ignoring most of their stares and blatant gestures.

Once they’ve packed the truck and leave, I walk through the empty loft, lost in my memories. I come to the closet again, glancing down at the trim and notice that it’s loose. That’s when I realize it’s actually a hidden compartment. I slide the little wooden panel up and find a small old leather box containing a treasure trove of memorabilia from Brian’s life, actually Brian’s and my life. I’m struck by all the things he has stored away in here.

The first thing I take out is the original drawing of Rage on a napkin I drew, while at Babylon stoned on E. It looks just like him; it makes my heart sing knowing that he kept it. The next thing I focus on is a pile of parking ticket stubs. I recognize them from all the times I went to physical therapy at the hospital. But these are all dated during the time I was in my coma. I can’t believe he was really there every night. I’m blown away by this information. I always thought that he never came to see me… I think I’m in shock as I just sit on the bed, staring into the box.

I see a Polaroid of Brian, Gus and me from the night he was born. I’ve never seen this photo before, but you can read the love in our eyes. It’s like we’ve been together for years, instead of hours. The next thing I take out is an airplane ticket to Los Angles that was never used. I look at the dates and notice that it’s from when I was working on Rage in Hollywood. I can’t help wondering why he never came. That is, until I see the dates. It’s dated the day before Connor’s birthday. The day I told Brian that I was going to be staying in California for a few more months. I never knew he was planning to visit. I know I wished he would have and was disappointed that he didn’t. My heart sinks, knowing I was fucking Connor back then, not Brian. I can’t help the tears that form in the corners of my eyes, even if it was a long time ago now.

I take the envelope that’s standing up against the side of the box and open it. It’s the receipt from that Hotel in New York when I ran away to be a Go-Go Boy. Fuck, I had no idea what a hotel room cost in New York City. I can’t help smiling, thinking back to him showing up and bringing me home. I never did pay him back…

There seems to be dozens and dozens of tiny drawings that I drew of him, on all sizes and shapes of scrap paper and post-its. I grin at the thought of him gathering them up and saving them. It’s so romantic.

The next layer is underneath my old red long-sleeved t-shirt. I always wondered where this went. It’s sealed in a zip-lock bag, dirty and still smells like greasy food from the diner, paint, turpentine, and us. That special smell that no one else ever makes me feel, just me and him, oozing sexuality. I’m actually getting hard again, just smelling his scent on my shirt.

Just under it was the first picture I ever sold, the one from the Gay and Lesbian Center Art Show. I had no idea that he bought this, but it makes sense, thinking back on it now. He so loves me, and has for a very long time.

Stuck slightly to the back of the picture frame is a crumpled-up drawing. It’s been smoothed out and it’s one I did of Rage. One I must have left here when I moved in with Ethan. God, I still feel so bad about that. I was such a fool. How could I not have seen everything he was giving me? But mostly he was opening himself up to me and I hurt him worse than he ever let on. Then it was back to never letting it show again. If I hadn’t been such a fool, Brian and I could have saved so much pain and hurt we caused each other.

I’m almost to the bottom of the box and I see Brian’s bracelet. I was wondering whatever happened to that. It just disappeared from his wrist after I returned it to him that evening. I wanted so badly for him to pull me into his embrace and ask me to come home but he didn’t. He was way too proud to ever let me know he still loved me. That’s my martyr… I slip the bracelet on. I love the way it feels against my skin.

The next item is totally disgusting so I can’t imagine why he meant to save this. It must have fallen into the box my mistake. It’s an old filthy rag that looks like something died in it. It’s totally gross and repulsive. I pick it up and carry it by my fingertips, not wanting to really touch it. I take it out to the hall and throw it down the garbage shute; it’s always dark in the hallway, being all brick with no windows. As I let go of the revolting cloth in the dark I feel the texture of the fabric run across my fingertips, pulling memories from deep within me. But I can’t really place them, they’re just sparks.

When I come back in and sit on the bed, there’s one final item in the box. I decide to smoke a joint before viewing the last item. It’s something written on a folded piece of paper that looks like a blank page of Allegheny General Hospital chart sheets. It’s Brian’s handwriting, but it’s not like anything he’s written before. I mean, not like this. I think it’s a poem…


No More Good Guys

I died today,
but I'm still breathing,
bleeding,
for now,
I'm broken.

You left me here,
Capsized and sinking,
thinking, right now,
there's no more good guys.

You left me standing here,
alone and colder,
I hope that some day soon,
the pain inside will stop.

You died today,
but you're still breathing,
in my mind,
that is,
there's no more good guys.

You left me standing here,
alone and colder,
I hope that some day soon,
the pain inside will stop
I hoped you'd see me,
I hoped you'd understand,
Or crucify me for my failings,
my cruel ambition,
hardly justified,
and the pain inside will ... stop

(by Skindive – closing credits Season Two, Episode One…)


Wow, that just sent chills down my spine… It’s late afternoon and I’m exhausted as I lie on the bed; it’s the only piece of furniture still here. Besides being Brian’s very private executive office, we wanted a place to crash if we wanted to stay in town overnight. My mind drifts off as the dusk settles in for the evening. Brian had to fly to a meeting in Chicago with Leo, to finalize some last-minute details. I’m just waiting for him to call, once his plane lands.

I can’t shake that feeling of those silky textures running across my fingertips, as I dropped that rancid rag. I’m almost out when I hear the rain falling against the loft’s large windows. My dreams start to take over my sub-conscious, as I’m still feeling the nubby pattern slip across my skin. Only this time I feel the silky fabric run across my cheek and the side of my face. There’s lightning and thunder high in the sky, as it flashes shadows through the loft. I’m left with the feeling I’m not alone, like someone is lurking just out of sight, as I start becoming frightened.

My skin crawls as the fear creeps in and takes hold of my mind. I’m cold, lying on a cement floor, feeling the life drain from me, frightened by all the shadows. More lightning with white flashes of fire, tearing through the air, eliminating everything for only seconds then darkness again. I feel him spinning me around like I’m floating, surrounded by tiny flashing white lights.

I feel exhilarated, like I’m at my debutant ball with Prince Charming. He’s holding me tight as we sway and spin around the dance floor. I’m filled with an overpowering sense of love, and then he kisses me in front of all the other princesses, choosing only me.

More bolts of lightning and thunder shake the loft and my fear is back. I feel an overwhelming pain everywhere, but I also feel his arms around me, holding me, chanting… No, No, No… Oh GOD… Blackness… I’m trying so hard to focus but I’m floating… No, sinking deeper and deeper. I’m drowning…

I see the bright lights like a beacon, calling me, but I’m torn between going forward and going back. I hesitate and relax, letting myself feel and see what’s in front of me. He’s smiling, looking really happy, so beautiful in his black tux and burgundy shirt. His eyes are hypnotizing and I can’t look away; he’s telling me everything he can’t say with words. My heart is practically leaping from my chest as I tell him this is the best day of my life. He gently pushes me against the jeep and says, “Even if it is Ridiculously Romantic.” He looks into my eyes and hesitates slightly. Then he kisses me, and I know he loves me… He so loves me…

No, No, he’s fading. I can’t see him anymore, and fear is replacing all my exuberance as the darkness takes over again. I try to hold on, but I can’t. It’s all closing in on me… I can’t breathe… and I feel Death coming for me. But I try and hold onto the feelings of his love that I saw in his eyes. It’s comforting and calming and I know I’ll see him again on the other side.

Now I feel it again - the soft silky fabric running around my neck. Feel it in every nerve ending in my body, like it’s whispering ‘I love you’ and ‘good-bye’ all in the same breath.

I’m consumed with darkness and fear, as I shake vigorously in convulsions on the cement floor. I feel his arms around me, holding me tight, rocking me. I hear him chanting again… Hey, hey, hey, hey, I’m right here… Come on, Sunshine, open your eyes… I’m right here… Come back to me…

I’m slowly pulled from my sub-conscious, remembering memories trapped there so long ago. I open my eyes to my beautiful husband, looking down at me, holding me tight as my breathing slowly comes under control and my panic attack subsides. I’ve never felt safer in my life, lying there in his arms, feeling the cool platinum band against my skin. He bends down and kisses me passionately, as I’m poked by a long slender box he bought me in Chicago.

I reach down and take the box, lifting the lid, running my hand over the soft silky fabric; only this time it’s royal blue. I close my eyes for just a brief second, feeling him spin me around the ballroom like we’re in some old Fred Astaire movie. Then I remember the look in his eyes, and all the love he didn’t know how to express.

He runs his hands through my hair as he pulls me against him, kissing me tenderly, whispering, “I was so fucking scared when I found you laying here, shaking, struggling to breathe…” I just smile and say, “It’s okay. I needed to go there. I needed to find my way home in the dark. I’m okay now, just so long as I can always find my way home to you.”

He runs his hands under my polo shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Lying me back down on the bed, he starts to unzip my pants. He leans down, kissing my bellybutton, tickling me, driving me insane, as I wiggle. He pulls my pants down by the bottom edges of my jeans and drops them on the floor. He smiles, saying, “So you’re going commando just for me?” He’s get that little twinkle in his eyes just as he lunges down, swallowing my cock, sending sweet rushes throughout my body.

God, I love sex when I first wake up. It’s like everything is even more sensitive as I feel him licking me, sucking me, making me impossibly hard. I put the scarf around my neck, taking in its silky smooth feel as it slides against the skin of my neck. It isn’t long before he has me right on the edge, teasing me with his tongue. Swishing it over my slit repeatedly, he works my boner, running his hand up and down my shaft, driving me out of my mind. I try to hold back until I hear him say, “Cum for me, Sunshine”, and I shoot down his beautiful throat.

I’m still trying to catch my breath as I feel him pull my legs up on his shoulders. Then I feel his fingers, dripping with lube, as he swirls it around my opening and plunges deep inside. He slips in and out of me as I moan to his rhythm. He pulls and stretches me, working my ring of muscle, and I let my mind drift, riding the pleasure that is starting deep inside of me.

I whimper as he slips his fingers out, but I’m elated when I feel his dick fill me. Gasping for air momentarily, I adjust to his stiff member. I feel him kiss me as he starts to slide in and out. I’m lost in his touch as the rhythm starts to take hold, still crazy in love with the sensations of our juicy flesh as we rub together, creating beautiful friction.

Ever since we went raw, neither one of us can last as long as we used to. We’re both assaulted with all those warm fuzzy feelings as they build. It’s like all my nerve endings have electrical charges as my sparkler ignites, shooting sparks and lightning up my whole body. Brian pounds into my prostate as his own Roman candle shoots and lights up the sky. We’re surrounded by burning embers as we float back down to earth, catching our breath as we hold each other tight…

I whisper, “Even if it was ridiculously romantic…”

The End…