Title: Instamatics 9/8/01 1/1, #101
Guest Author: kimberlite
Archive: Please ask.
Rating: NC-17, kink
Disclaimer: Todd Haynes, Miramax, etc.
Feedback: Please, to kimberlite@cox.net
Notes: Many thanks to Alex for beta, for all her encouragement, and for letting me frolic in her playground.

Instamatic #101

Curt heard the door click shut and sighed with relief. He stayed curled up on the couch for long minutes, wanting to be sure that Jack hadn't forgotten anything. Convinced he was finally alone, Curt rolled into a sitting position, fighting back momentary light-headedness as his body adjusted to the change.

He'd been at Jack's for almost a week, but had spent the majority of the time folded in on himself on the couch, trying not to think about Brian. Of course, it was difficult to do anything else, considering that Brian was the center of his life -- had been the center. Now, Curt had been cast off, thrown out of the bright circle of Brian's attentions. He felt numb.

Stumbling to the bathroom, Curt shed his clothes along the way, almost falling over before he worked his pants from around his ankles. Once naked, he took a piss, then stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. Fuck, he looked awful -- dark circles beneath his dull eyes, pale skin, blond hair tangled and matted. He tried to comb his fingers through his hair, but it just seemed to make it worse. Not that it mattered anymore.

Listlessly, Curt padded over to the small bag he'd brought with him. Beside his guitar, he'd left just about all of his stuff at Brian's house, unable to break even that connection. He knew he was being stupid, but even as his pride told him to forget Brian, to jump at Jack's offer to record music and get on with life, his mind refused to let go and his body cried out for Brian's touch.

Sitting on the floor by the couch, Curt rummaged through his bag. Pushing aside a pair of leather pants, he found what he was looking for -- his last connection with Brian. As he pulled it from the bag, the long leopard-print silk scarf slid easily over the leather, feeling cool as he wrapped some of it around his hand. Curt drew the silk over his chest, letting the sensuous feel of the fabric harden his nipples. Bringing his hand up to his face, Curt nuzzled the material, sniffing for any hint of the Brian-scent he'd become addicted to. Moaning deep in his throat, Curt let his hand fall, unable to find even a trace of Brian's essence.

How the hell had it come to this? When had the bright fantasy they'd first spun together kaleidoscoped into something dark and cold? Curt trailed the scarf around his neck, twisting it so it sat snugly against his windpipe, one long tail falling limply down his back, the other down his chest.

The night Brian had worn it, the scarf had seemed vibrant, alive. They'd gone to a fair, and it had been magical. Curt had floated in a haze of happiness and excitement, reveling in Brian's playfulness, hypnotized by the way the scarf moved, a living extension of Brian's sensual nature. When they'd finally fucked, it was unlike anything Curt had experienced before. Their touches were tender; even as they pushed each other to higher and higher planes of passion, Curt had felt cherished, loved.

Curt ran his hands over the fabric, unable to reconcile the love he'd seen in Brian's eyes when Brian had given the scarf to him with the coldness he'd seen as Brian peered at him from behind the filmy white curtains, dismissing Curt from his life. Once again, panic clutched at Curt's heart, making his breath come faster and his body tremble. He was hooked on Brian. There was no simple way to distance himself from his need, no easy out for him. He loved Brian, but Brian didn't love him.

He was just going to have to suffer through the pain of withdrawal. Again.

Pressing his hands to his eyes, Curt tried to calm himself, but his emotions had been churning inside for too long and he needed to release them. Digging around in his bag, Curt found lube. Sex was fundamental, primitive, a place he could seek refuge when everything else around him was shattering to pieces.

Curt placed the lube on the arm of the couch and then went back to the bathroom to grab his towel. Returning to the couch, he draped the towel over the seat while trying to decide what he wanted to do. Thankfully, Jack had material hanging over his windows so the room was darkened. There were numerous candles in various holders sitting on the high table behind the couch. Curt had gazed at them occasionally, but never lit them. Now he looked more closely.

He knew simply jerking off wasn't going to appease his frustration and anger. Lighting several of the largest candles, Curt looked at his remaining choices. He picked up a multi-colored candle that twisted like a spiral staircase. Wax had dripped down the sides, adding an odd texture to the already psychedelic candle. While it interested him, Curt admitted to himself that it really was too big. Reluctantly, he put it down and lit it. Finally, he lit all of the remaining candles except for a large blue candle, which he left on the table.

Picking up a small white candle, he stared at the flame. It flickered as he moved, dancing with the currents of air. After a moment, the heat of the flame melted enough wax that if Curt wasn't careful, the liquid would run over the edge, beading along the outside of the candle. Curt stretched out on the couch, careful to keep the candle upright as he rubbed the scarf over his chest, down to his groin and back up to his neck.

He felt hot anticipation shoot through his body as his eyes followed the tiny sparkle of light. Tilting the candle, Curt let the hot wax fall onto his stomach, a fire-trail leaping along his nerve endings as it hit his naked flesh. The heat, the momentary pain, cut through his depression-induced lethargy. His body began to respond, blood pumping faster, filling his cock as the pain blossomed though his mind. He continued dripping candle wax up his chest to his nipples, the sensitive flesh reacting even more strongly to the subtle burn, to the intense pleasure.

Keeping the candle upright, Curt ran the scarf over his nipples and down to his stomach, letting the cool silk soothe his skin, imagining it was Brian's delicate hand tracing over his body, reading his love in the raised lettering of the wax. A choked sob rose from the back of Curt's throat as he thought of Brian, of all the times they'd been intertwined, so completely in tune with each other that the rest of the world had ceased to exist. Now, he was the one who didn't exist for Brian.

Blowing out the candle, Curt tossed it onto the table, uncaring of the final droplets of wax that fell on him. Even as he sought refuge in the response of his own body, Brian was there to sabotage his relief. He wrapped the scarf around his cock and began thrusting into his fist, but it just produced an emotionless physical sensation.

He was empty, cold without Brian.

Angrily jerking at the scarf, Curt felt it tighten around his throat, cutting into his skin and reducing his breath. A shiver of alarm ran through him as he realized that he needed to feel something -- anything -- and the scarf's tight grip felt oddly good. Not enough, but...good. He still needed to fill the emptiness that Brian had left.

Untangling the scarf from his cock, Curt sat up and reached for the blue candle and the lube. He hadn't taken any of their toys, but he could be creative. During most of their time together, Brian had wanted to submit to Curt, but occasionally he'd taken control and fucked Curt. Curt had always enjoyed those moments, soaking up the feeling of being filled by Brian, of giving himself willingly to the other man.

Sighing wistfully, Curt lay on his side facing the back of the couch and drew his leg up to his chest. Unscrewing the lube, Curt squeezed some out onto his fingers and then reached around, spreading the slick substance over his anus before pushing two fingers inside. He wasn't in the mood for slow and gentle, so he didn't spend much time preparing himself before he found the candle. It was certainly bigger than Brian's cock, but he knew it would still be a poor substitute.

Wiping the remaining lube from his fingers onto the candle, Curt positioned it and pushed, trying to relax enough to accept the intrusion. There was some resistance, and Curt finally realized that the flat top of the cylinder-shaped candle was perhaps not the best choice. Adding more lube to the candle, Curt tried again, twisting and coaxing until he worked it past the first tight muscle.

Curt paused to catch his breath, focusing on the feeling of being stretched to the point of almost pain. That was the edge he needed, something to feel beside the emptiness and despair. Curt pushed the candle deeper, wanting to fill himself with the cool hardness, but when he hit the internal muscle, his body refused to open. Even when he moved the candle back and forth, slowly trying to move past the restriction, the sharp pain made him stop.

Panting with frustration, Curt removed the candle, setting it on the arm of the couch, and sat up, fumbling around for the lube. "Fuck," Curt hissed under his breath. He needed this release, needed to escape from the reality of his life and the pain in his heart. Spotting the lube, Curt reached for it but only managed to push it off the couch. Leaning down to retrieve it, Curt felt the scarf tighten around his neck. His immediate instinct was to pull the end of the scarf out from under himself to relieve the pressure, but he was distracted by the dots swimming before his eyes, darting about like a school of multi-colored fish.

Head spinning, Curt stood up, letting the pressure lessen as he gasped for breath. The rush accompanying the renewed flow of oxygen was startling...intriguing. He wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock, counting heartbeats in his flesh. There was something extremely sexual about stepping to the edge of his body's tolerance, of not knowing whether he would fall.

Suddenly certain of what he wanted, Curt rested a knee on the arm of the couch, balancing himself with his legs apart. Using one hand to spread himself, Curt inserted the tube and squeezed a generous amount of lube up his ass, shuddering as the cold substance entered his body. After tossing the lube onto the table, Curt took one end of the scarf and tied it tightly around the radiator pipe. Tethered to the wall, Curt returned to the couch, letting the scarf tighten as it stretched.

Picking up the candle again, Curt straddled the arm of the couch, one leg kneeling on the couch cushion, his other foot firmly planted on the floor. Positioning the candle against the couch arm, Curt wiggled about until he was crouched just above it, waiting to be penetrated. Wrapping the other end of the scarf around his free hand, Curt began to pull, letting the pressure against his throat build.

As his brain began to react to the decrease in oxygen and the build up of carbon dioxide, Curt lowered himself onto the candle, opening his body. As he worked to take the candle more deeply, he felt the sharp pain but this time he backed off only momentarily, returning again and again with increasing pressure until he forced the thickness past the internal muscle. Pain burst through him, followed by a feeling of intense relief and an incredible fullness that reached deep inside.

Giddy with success, Curt rose up and sank down, fucking himself on the candle, feeling it slide in and out. Tugging on the scarf, Curt tightened it until he could barely breathe, then wrapped it around his cock and began jerking himself off.

He was flying, the wind blowing through his hair, the sound of Brian's laughter floating to him, caressing him like music. The lights of the fair highlighted Brian's beautiful face, glowing with brilliant, shifting colors. The scarf trailed out behind Brian, dancing with the energy of the night, beckoning Curt to come closer, to give himself to the bewitching creature casting his spell on Curt's soul.

The only option was surrender.

Curt reached out, catching the end of the scarf, drawing himself to Brian in a fantastic explosion of sparkling light. For an instant, an eternity, they were connected, one with the night, with the stars, with the universe.

And then everything went black.