Chapter Text
September 2012
Brian's bedroom was somehow both everything and nothing like Matt had expected. He had expected, he supposed, that the man would have decorated richly, with plush carpets and heavy damask curtains, a massive headboard and matching footboard and to an extent, he was correct. The massive bed was piled with a gorgeous comforter in a rich purple shot through with threads of gold, and the curtains did have an elegant twining pattern that, he was pretty sure, was actually tiny golden golden leaves that twined up the edges and walled off the high, huge windows. He wasn't surprised to see Brian's beloved acoustic on a stand within arms reach of the bed on one side, or the large nightstand of some kind of rich wood, or the walk-in closet, the door stood partly ajar. Matt was even less surprised to see the overflowing laundry basket in the corner and the handwritten transcription Brian had scattered across the nightstand, pencil still left carelessly across the half written sheet music.
Somehow, despite this, he hadn't expected the sheets. He probably should have. Brian had already stripped out of his clothes and as he had sprawled across the bed, Matt realized it hadn't been made in the first place. Beneath the comforter was a set of shimmering, deep purple silk sheets. It contrasted sharply against his deep tan, and even more against where his skin hadn't seen so much sun. Matt couldn't pull his eyes away from where the milk white of his hip met the luxurious material, until Brian cleared his throat.
"You're welcome to stare, but I'd prefer it if I weren't the only one naked, here, come on now."
Matt moved slowly, his tongue thick in his mouth as he gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head. He dropped it carelessly, but had to stop walking to get out of his shorts without tripping. Brian turned onto his side to watch him and Matt could see the muscles in his chest and thighs flex beneath his skin, the way the silk pulled and rippled with the shift of his weight.
"Jesus, Brian," Matt finally got out, licking his lip. They felt too dry, hell, his throat was too dry and he felt himself swallow once, twice. Again.
"What?" Brian propped himself up on his elbow, and the sheet wrinkled beneath the sharp point of pressure.
"Purple silk sheets? Really?"
"They're the most expensive thing in the entire room," Brian defended, as if that somehow explained anything.
"Jesus," Matt repeated, this time with a little more fervor.
"You gonna stand there blaspheming over my sheets or you gonna get down here?" Brian demanded and Matt laughed as he finally settled down on the edge of the bed.
"They suit you," Matt murmured a little later. Brian was between his thighs, his mouth wet as he looked up at him.
"What?" He asked, breathless and confused.
"The sheets. They suit you. Rich, gorgeous, silky and overpri-aaaughmmph... fuck." Matt broke off into a gurgled curse as Brian slapped his hip and swallowed down far more of his cock than Matt had known him to be capable of. He didn't have the brainpower for anything further as Brian slowly tried to suck his soul out through his dick. He eventually had to haul him off with a fist in his hair, whining and shivering as he fought off the edges of the orgasm Brian had been about to wring from him.
"I can leave you alone with the sheets if you want," Brian complained, swatting at Matt's hand until he loosened his grip. Matt loved Brian's thick, dark hair, loved the feel of it between his fingers, but most of all he loved the way Brian would purr and melt when Matt ran his fingers through it.
"No, no, without you... it's just some fabric," Matt protested, pleased when Brian smiled at the compliment.
"Then hurry up and show me what you really appreciate, " despite his complaints, Brian ducked his head into Matt's hand, nuzzling up into his fingers as Matt combed them through the strands. The arch of his neck was decadent, luxurious, and Matt pulled Brian up his body until he could bite the curve of it, teeth scraping the soft skin over the tendon there until Brian whined.
It didn't take much work to roll Brian back into the silk and pull the bottle of lube from his nightstand. Brian was mouthy but he was eager, and when Matt slid two fingers inside his body Brian arched back with a low, sultry moan. Brian didn't always open up with so much ease under Matt's hands (the first time they'd done this Matt thought he was going to have perform some kind of pagan rites, maybe sacrifice a chicken before he could get more than a finger in his ass), but sometimes he could easily relax, letting Matt massage the tension from his muscles until he was putty in his hands. Maybe it was the fact that they were doing this in Brian's own bedroom for the first time (not in a hotel or shoved up in some bathroom), maybe Brian was just so much more relaxed after the twenty minutes they had just spent making out on his sofa, but when Matt's fingers pressed past his rim he was amazed to find that Brian had no trouble letting them slide to the second knuckle.
"There we go," he murmured as he added a third, pressing upwards and pressing until he felt Brian's body clench around him, his back arching up. He knew the thrill of that spot, how once he had gotten the man off on just his fingers when they hadn't been able to get any further. Brian had come so hard that time he had complained his own fingers had gone numb, and when Matt suggested he shouldn't do it again he thought the man was going to hit him.
"Much... better," Brian agreed, licking his lips and reaching for a pillow. His hand clenched round the edge of it, dripping until his knuckles turned white as Matt began to fit his pinkie finger in alongside the others. Brian was breathing hard already, and Matt folded his hand as he slipped all four into that wet heat. The lubricant helped, but it took several careful tries before he could flatten his fingers out even a little. It wasn't enough, he would still have to go slow, but Matt was getting used to taking his time with the other man. He had learned that while Brian was a sensitive and responsive lover, those qualities cut both ways and any attempt to rush the process never ended well. Finally Brian twisted a little, then reached down and gripped Matt's wrist with his free hand.
"Go ahead," he urged, pushing at his wrist until Matt obediently withdrew, inching his hand back until only his fingertips remained.
"You sure?" Matt asked, fingertips tracing the wet skin beneath them, pressing and rubbing to set the nerve endings there alight. Brian shuddered and nodded, the muscles clenching futilely to try pull his fingers deeper again before he managed to still himself.
Matt wiped his hand off on his thigh, then made quick work of the condom and another, thicker layer of lube across it before he began to ease the head of his cock inside him. Brian held his breath at first, then let it out slowly as Matt pushed deeper, pausing after the first few inches and letting Brian adjust, then sliding deeper still. It took time, and when Matt was nearly as deep as he could go he could feel the man's thighs shivering against his hips, and the hand that pushed through his dark hair was visibly trembling. Brian's eyes were closed but his mouth was open and wet as he panted, his head thrown back into the purple silk of the pillow beneath his head.
"You with me Bri?" Matt murmured as he gently pushed the man's knees up and out so he could bend over his chest to mouth kisses across that exposed throat. Brian mumbled something that sounded obscene, then his hand caught the back of Matt's head and gripped, hard.
"Gimme a minute, " Brian's voice was a faint rasp. Matt could feel the pressure about his length shifting, then a tremor worked its way through his body. Then there was just Brian's breath on his forehead and that hand on his neck beginning to ease as Matt continued his kisses up his jaw, over it. He finally captured that rosebud mouth with his own to drink in the tiny moans he found there, and Brian nipped gently at his lips and tongue before that too eased.
"Okay," Brian finally shifted his grip to Matt's shoulder, pushing at him just a little as he spoke against his mouth. "Yeah, okay. That's better."
Matt took care to move with care, only withdrawing a few inches before sliding home again with painful slowness. Brian whined, high and soft, and Matt repeated the movement as he braced himself with one hand next to Brian's head. It was awkward to hold, and difficult to maintain and if Matt hadn't been in shape he couldn't have kept it up but just then his world had narrowed down to every soft sound of encouragement or discomfort Brian made until the man's breath came easier and his body began to unclench.
"There we go," he crooned against Brian's jaw, and the man slid a foot up over his hip before he wrapped both legs loosely about Matt's waist. It was more intimate than Brian had ever allowed and Matt was glad that it was here, surrounded by Brian's things, where he felt safe enough to sleep, that he was being given entry to, if not, perhaps, fully welcomed. He reached up to draw his thumb along the line of Brian's jaw, slid his fingers behind his ear, then back into his hair even as he picked up a little speed, a little force behind each thrust and watched the man begin to unravel beneath him.
"I've got you," Matt promised and received a silent, painfully hard squeeze of Brian's fingers in return, as much appreciation as reprimand, perhaps.
He could at last move as easily as he needed and his own needs were starting to hammer down the bar of his self-control. Brian squeezed his shoulder again and Matt groaned, too desperate to refuse that wordless permission no matter how much he wanted to finish Brian before he started. Brian's cock was caught between them, and when the man let go of his shoulder he wasn't surprised to feel his hand slide down, reaching to catch himself in his hand and add a more purposeful pressure. Matt let the world blur and time fall away as he fell into the heat of him, his body taking over in the age old rhythms it knew without thought, without direction. He came hard, filling the condom as he found his hips against Brian's ass, felt the other man tighten about him until the pressure of his knees bruised his ribs only his elbows, resting on either side of Brian's torso, and saved him from collapsing his full weight onto the other man's chest.
"Hells," Brian groaned somewhere above him, his voice distant behind the thunder in Matt's ears of their heartbeats. It took a while before he could lift his forehead from Brian's shoulder and when he did he realized he could feel gentle fingers tracing up and down his back, stroking the sweaty skin as Brian soothed him.
"I've got you," Brian echoed, no trace of mockery in his voice as stroked his back. "Just breathe, moron."
When Matt looked up again, there was a faint smile on those thin lips and a warmth in his eyes that Matt knew was just for him that he didn't think he was supposed to see, and he returned it, just as small and just as warm.
"Yeah," he murmured, "you do."
"God, you're a fucking sap, Matthew," Brian grumbled, though he didn't actually shove Matt away just yet. He was still caught between those gorgeous thighs and Brian had one leg hooked about his ass. Matt had been allowed past a line, and taking advantage of Brian's willingness to trust him to respect the boundaries wasn't going to get him invited back. And yet.
Matt bent his head and bit lightly at Brian's collarbone, the end of the bone where it met his shoulder and Brian laughed, low and maybe a little mean as he flexed his ass about Matt's softening cock. Matt shuddered, watched a drop of sweat slide down the side of Brian's neck to drip onto the expensive silk beneath him. Brian really did match his bedroom, but especially the silk sheets. Expensive, decadent, and more or less unattainable for mere mortals like himself. Brian had made that infinitely clear even if nothing else about their fucked up lives and precarious career made any damned sense. Brian still looked a couple of stone underweight beneath him, his cheekbones high and sharp as mirror fragments, but his jujitsu, supposedly, kept him more or less healthy. Or so he said. Matt knew a hollowed shell when he saw it, knew the before and after the before and after of a car crash. No matter how good the repair, no matter how quality the body work or the paint, that beloved car will never handle the same again and there was no handling Brian, not anymore.
But he hadn't been pushed away just yet, and Matt soaked in as much of Brian's touch as he dared, while the man still wanted it. The man hummed softly as his fingers dragged trails through the sweat cooling on Matt's back, scraping through the stubble on his shaved head with blunted nails. They seldom had time for luxuries like an afterglow and when they'd had the time, the lingering affections held no invitation to Brian like they did Matt. It had been fast and filthy with the heat of fever dreams and every time Brian had pulled away, had pushed Matt back, had wiped his mouth and gotten to his feet Matt saw the skin stretched over too much bone, the brittle lines of his face and the rage and pain and guilt hidden beneath like an inferno concealed behind a wall, the flames mere moments from setting it alight. Brian burned beneath his skin, and as Matt bent to browse his mouth up the perfect curve of his throat, the underside of his jaw where silky flesh met bone, he could almost feel that heat singe his lips. He would never try quench the heat of Brian's grief but he could never convince the other man of that, no matter how fierce or meek his kisses, and Matt would hardly, even to himself, admit the thrill of sliding his feet along this tightrope with his brilliant, broken guitarist was on the shortlist of things that kept his own heart thudding beneath his ribs.
Was that what Brian thought he was doing? Providing succor to someone he saw as less put together as himself? Someone whose coping skills were less likely to keep him from drowning? Matt didn't know and, if he were wholly forthright (and he had no intention of being so), he did not care. Brian was silk and fire beneath his hands and mouth, and had yet to kick him out of his bed, and Matt would be damned before he let the moment slip through his fingers. Brian's hand curled about the nape of his neck, gripped without actually trying to pull him away as he reversed direction and worked his way slowly back down Brian's throat and chest. The movement had him pulling gently away from the other man, detangling their limbs so he could slide the condom free and knot it carefully before looking around for the trash. Brian took it from his hand and lobbed it carelessly towards a small bin in the corner, making a disgruntled sound when it missed.
"Out of practice?" Matt murmured, laughing, and didn't try duck Brian's half-hearted swipe to the back of his head.
"We've barely been home in months," Brian reminded him, unnecessarily.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Matt's own bedroom was still a mess of unpacking. He mouthed over where Brian's hipbone jutted, the skin stretched taut across the muscle, tendon and bone, then nipped at the sensitive skin.
"Ow! Jesus, I'm not a chew toy!" Brian yipped, but there was a bit more laughter in his eyes as Matt glanced up, watching him as he dragged the flat of his tongue across his skin. His mouth curved up as he watched Matt soothe any remaining sting with his tongue, and he reached again to pull his fingertips across his head.
"Are you sure?" Matt teased, but Brian pulled at his shoulder to urge him back up and Matt obediently collapsed next to him, reveling in the silk as he sank back into it.
"Mmmm," Brian twisted, pillowing his head on his arm as he watched Matt through sleepy, kidded eyes.
"Hmmm." Matt mirrored him, but let his eyes close for a minute. When he opened them again Brian was still watching him, his eyes opaque, the shadows beneath them deepening to hollows. "That my cue to leave?" He asked, hoping it didn't sound like a complaint.
Beian blinked at him, then reached with his other hand to draw one fingertip down between Matt's brows, gliding along the bridge of his nose and down, drawing a vertical line across his lips and chin.
"No," he said at last, though he sounded tired. Too tired. It certainly wasn't an invitation to stay, though he might earn some goodwill if he didn't. Brian pressed the flat of his hand against Matt's chest, fingers splayed wide, then he sighed and closed his eyes again, his hand still over his heart. Matt could feel it against Brian's palm, and refused to wonder at what kind of comfort the man took from the steady th-thump, th-thump there.
Finally Matt sighed and stretched out his legs, then his back, arching into the sheets until he heard a soft pop from his spine before he slid closer to Brian, slipping an arm about him. Brian allowed himself to be held, for the moment, and Matt felt those long fingers curl about his as Brian dipped his head, nosed against his throat. It wasn't the first time Matt had held him, though Matt wasn't sure what he got from it. Matt enjoyed the closeness, and the warmth of his skin. He could bury his memories and the ache in his own chest in his arms, at least for a little while. Brian's breath was hot on his neck as he sighed through his nose and his body relaxed as if he had exhaled any remaining tension.
"I can go, if you prefer," Matt murmured into his hair. There was no reply for a long time, but Brian's hand tightened on his hip, his thumb curving over the sensitive skin at his waist. Matt couldn't stop a small shiver, and Brian's laugh was as soft as his sigh.
"Yeah." He kissed the hollow of Matt's throat. It felt like a contradiction, until Matt realized it was appreciation. Matt hadn't always been so respectful of the boundaries Brian had set, though he hadn't been precisely apologetic. This time, though, it was Brian's home. His bedroom. Matt had no interest in intruding. Not here.
"Okay," Matt replied, tilting back his head on the pillow as Brian's mouth continued to move, grazing across his throat. Brian liked to bite (Matt knew from painful experience) but this time his mouth stayed soft, his lips damp and hot as he pressed kisses beneath Matt's ear. Finally Brian drew back, his eyes as soft as Matt had ever seen them as Brian examined his face from inches away, the lashes rimming his eyes dark and thick like reeds framing deep pools that Matt would drown in, if Brian let him. When he blinked Matt caught a glimpse of the thin delicate skin of his eyelids, the veins blue beneath, the muscles quivering every so slightly before they opened again.
"Yeah, okay," Brian kissed him at last, simple and sweet and so gentle Matt could hardly stand it, knowing this was all contingent on walking away again.
"Okay," Matt repeated when Brian broke away and struggled upright, trying to clear his head as, free of Brian's embrace, the air quickly chilled his skin. He was dressed by the time Brian spoke again; Matt had very carefully not looked at him while he put his clothes on to avoid temptation.
"Lock the front door behind you?" He asked, still unbearably gentle, as if he thought something might break if he raised his voice.
"Sure," Matt took two quick steps over to the bed and bent, kissing Brian quick and hard before moving away. The man had pulled those stunning sheets up over his hips, the silk in a shimmering puddle below his ribs. "And the sheets are gorgeous," he added, settling the hem of his shirt into place.
"Yeah, I know," Brian laughed and Matt chanced a glance back, letting the image of Brian, like some kind of Greek god lounging in his robes, burn into his mind before he slipped away.