Justin bought the pot with the extra tips that always came during the holiday season. He brought it back to the loft and he and Brian turned off the lights, put on some music, and lay in the middle of the empty floor to smoke it. He was known for his extreme giggle fits when he was high, but tonight he was mellow and completely fascinated by the glow of the cherry in the dark as it passed between him and Brian.
His mind spiraled like it sometimes did, higher and higher until he was outside the building in the ice that filled the air and fell to cover the city. There were no cars on the road, or people on the sidewalk, and the only sound was the ice hitting the windows and pavement, muffling everything else.
He was only peripherally aware of taking the joint from Brian every few minutes when he felt Brian’s lips sliding over his throat and jolted back into himself. Sometimes pot worked as a kind of E-lite for him. Touch fascinated him – he craved texture on his skin, over sensitive and tingling.
He felt like he was glowing everywhere Brian touched him: lips on his throat, fingers lightly brushing his stomach beneath his sweater. He buried his hand in Brian’s hair, fascinated by its silkiness, and moaned softly. Brian’s lips turned up into a smile against Justin’s collarbone. It was the kind of smile that meant he wanted to play.
He stripped Justin of his sweater and shirt, exposing his chest to the cool air of the loft and making him shiver. Brian wreaked havoc with Justin’s senses, a feather-light touch here, a breath there, fingers tracing his ribs, a touch of tongue on his nipple. Justin’s breath was shallow and he squirmed, needing more. More touch, more Brian, more everything.
Brian tried to calm him with a hand on his neck, but he was too far gone; even that touch made his back arch and his lips part. When he felt a single finger run up the inside of his leg he jerked and moaned, and he would have begged but Brian silenced him with his lips. Justin let Brian trace his lips with his tongue, let him coax his mouth open slowly until he opened it wide and sucked in the tongue greedily. Every touch of their tongues sent electric charges through his body.
Justin tore at Brian’s shirt, eager for smooth, bare skin. If he could just touch Brian’s skin he was sure he could pass on the electricity, the glowing, and help Brian feel it too. Make Brian feel like he did: out of his mind with lust and sensation.
They had to break the kiss when their chests touched. Gasp for air and then lunge back at each other. Brian was no longer playing, now he fumbled at Justin’s zipper and tugged at his buttons. They shed the rest of their garments and arched together, and Justin thought he might black out or come or fly apart right there, but Brian’s hand was tangling in his hair, keeping him grounded.
Their bodies were slick with sweat and when Brian pushed into him, he slid a few inches before grabbing onto Brian’s shoulder and pushing back. His body was divided. All the places that didn’t touch Brian were cold and aching, and all the places that did were hot and tingling and pushing for more.
Brian was in him and around him and his mind spiraled upwards again, expanding farther and farther until everything focused suddenly on a single point, and then he came. Everything stopped for a single moment, blood rushed in his ears, and then Brian came too, and everything started again.
Justin wanted to protest when Brian pulled out to dispose of the condom, but he was fading fast, and no words would come. Instead he let Brian pull him against his chest, ignoring the sweat and the stickiness, and fell asleep to Brian’s breath in his ear.