The Taste of Desperation
What with watching QAF nonstop for the past two-three weeks it was only a matter of time before this came along. *g*
Title: The Taste of Desperation
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1010
Disclaimer: I don't own Queer as Folk.
Fandom: Queer as Folk (US)
Timeframe: Set in the beginning of Season Four.
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Summary: There's something about Brian Kinney being desperate, and Justin's not sure exactly why.
There's something about desperation, Justin decides as he strokes the paintbrush across the paper, forming a jaw line, but he's not sure exactly what. Brian says it makes his dick soft. Usually it doesn't make Justin's hard but there's something about Brian Kinney being desperate, and he's not sure exactly why.
So now Justin has a hard on and he's painting Gus, which is just all kinds of wrong. But he has no choice; Brian just sulked off to God knows where because all his clients turned him down, and he's unemployed, and he's running out of money.
"Watch Gus," was all he said before leaving. There was a bewildered, distracted look on his face and his fingers were twitching softly. Justin had a strong vision of freezing his face so he could take it out and -- laugh? wank to? cherish? -- a face he rarely sees, and, also, of those twitchy fingers snatching the paintbrush out of Justin's hand and drawing a shaky line down Justin's body.
Justin's surprised Lindsay and Mel let Brian baby-sit while they went to the art show. He's even more surprised Brian had accepted. But of course Brian ran off, probably to the baths -- Justin's hand slips and there's a dark line across Gus' face -- because it's how he deals with everything, even when there's nothing to deal with.
And of course he would saddle Justin with his responsibility. It makes sense. Why not push everything onto the pitiful kid who would do anything for him? And then go off and fuck and laugh. In fact, Justin's sure that right now Brian's at the baths fucking some hot guy or two or three and laughing because Justin's at the loft stabbing his paintbrush against the ruined portrait and contemplating what Brian's up to.
That's really not what Justin wants so he drops the paintbrush on the hardwood floor. If he lets the paint dry there's going to be one nasty stain. He smiles and walks to the window, looking across the dusky buildings and into the darkening sky. When Brian comes back he's going to upend the paint over his head -- first he'll have to dump it in a bucket or something -- and then he'll tell Brian where to shove it. Then he'll walk out, and he'll feel so much better. He'll tell Daphne, and while Daphne asks him what the fuck is wrong with him he'll laugh and feel bad, but not that much.
So half an hour later, when the door slides open and Brian walks in, Justin moves from the window, realizes he forgot to dump the paint in a bucket, and decides that would have been too dramatic anyway.
"Everything go all right?" Brian asks, walking past him and picking up Gus, who had fallen asleep though Justin doesn't remember when that had happened. He deposits Gus on his bed and kicks off his shoes and removes his jacket.
Justin waits until he comes back. However, there's something red on the corner of Brian's lips, and Justin's too curious to walk out right now. He snorts to himself. Must have been some rough trick.
"Nice painting," Brian scoffs. "Did it insult you?"
Suddenly protective, Justin crosses the room and tears the painting out of his hands, storms to the kitchen, and shoves it in the trash can.
"Someone's feisty tonight." Brian walks over and leans against the counter, looking down at Justin and tangling a hand in his hair. His mouth is drawn down and there's still desperation there, mixed with worry, and Justin knows he's a mile away. It makes him furious.
So he leans forward and up and licks at the red spot. He takes a double-take when he realizes it's tangy and tastes like barbeque sauce. Just where had Brian gone to?
Slowly the desperation skitters off Brian's face, and Justin is disappointed to see it gone, but then his eyes flash and there's lust, and before Justin remembers that he's supposed to be telling him where to shove it and leaving, he's gasping for breath, and hoping Brian will shove it up his ass.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget everything but my name," Brian promises, placing a hand on Justin's chest and pushing him so that he almost trips over the trash can but ends up sagging against the stove.
When Brian kisses him, taking his wrists in his hand and pulling them back to a burner, it tastes like the desperation that's void everywhere else. Justin's as hard as ever. He tries gaining purchase to leap onto the stove but Brian sinks his teeth into Justin's neck, and he rather forgets he has legs, so he sags to the floor.
Brian quickly undresses, his lips somehow never leaving Justin's body, and then he's tearing off Justin's shirt. Pants. Thrusting his underwear past his knees and bending them. Justin lifts his ass off the floor enticingly.
Brian smirks at him, looking nearly as sexy as when he was desperate, and lowers his head. His breath is ghosting over Justin's balls, driving him wild. Justin's head thrashes back and forth, trying to compensate for the need of Brian's skin on his.
A wet digit strokes Justin's hole, and he stills except for his spreading legs. Then there's two fingers up Justin's ass. Brian's still breathing on his balls, his fingers twisting and thrusting harshly, and Justin's panting and pressing down.
Suddenly there's a pounding on the door. Brian must have left it unlocked because Mel storms in. She takes one look at them on the kitchen floor, Justin's underwear around his ankles, and starts screaming at them.
"Gus is in the bedroom," Brian says calmly, removing his fingers from Justin's ass. Justin whines because he wants it back, because it's home. But then Brian takes a condom out of his back pocket and rolls it on, and Mel starts screaming even louder.
And Justin laughs and holds on to Brian, because, really, what else is he to do?
Title: The Taste of Desperation
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1010
Disclaimer: I don't own Queer as Folk.
Fandom: Queer as Folk (US)
Timeframe: Set in the beginning of Season Four.
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Summary: There's something about Brian Kinney being desperate, and Justin's not sure exactly why.
There's something about desperation, Justin decides as he strokes the paintbrush across the paper, forming a jaw line, but he's not sure exactly what. Brian says it makes his dick soft. Usually it doesn't make Justin's hard but there's something about Brian Kinney being desperate, and he's not sure exactly why.
So now Justin has a hard on and he's painting Gus, which is just all kinds of wrong. But he has no choice; Brian just sulked off to God knows where because all his clients turned him down, and he's unemployed, and he's running out of money.
"Watch Gus," was all he said before leaving. There was a bewildered, distracted look on his face and his fingers were twitching softly. Justin had a strong vision of freezing his face so he could take it out and -- laugh? wank to? cherish? -- a face he rarely sees, and, also, of those twitchy fingers snatching the paintbrush out of Justin's hand and drawing a shaky line down Justin's body.
Justin's surprised Lindsay and Mel let Brian baby-sit while they went to the art show. He's even more surprised Brian had accepted. But of course Brian ran off, probably to the baths -- Justin's hand slips and there's a dark line across Gus' face -- because it's how he deals with everything, even when there's nothing to deal with.
And of course he would saddle Justin with his responsibility. It makes sense. Why not push everything onto the pitiful kid who would do anything for him? And then go off and fuck and laugh. In fact, Justin's sure that right now Brian's at the baths fucking some hot guy or two or three and laughing because Justin's at the loft stabbing his paintbrush against the ruined portrait and contemplating what Brian's up to.
That's really not what Justin wants so he drops the paintbrush on the hardwood floor. If he lets the paint dry there's going to be one nasty stain. He smiles and walks to the window, looking across the dusky buildings and into the darkening sky. When Brian comes back he's going to upend the paint over his head -- first he'll have to dump it in a bucket or something -- and then he'll tell Brian where to shove it. Then he'll walk out, and he'll feel so much better. He'll tell Daphne, and while Daphne asks him what the fuck is wrong with him he'll laugh and feel bad, but not that much.
So half an hour later, when the door slides open and Brian walks in, Justin moves from the window, realizes he forgot to dump the paint in a bucket, and decides that would have been too dramatic anyway.
"Everything go all right?" Brian asks, walking past him and picking up Gus, who had fallen asleep though Justin doesn't remember when that had happened. He deposits Gus on his bed and kicks off his shoes and removes his jacket.
Justin waits until he comes back. However, there's something red on the corner of Brian's lips, and Justin's too curious to walk out right now. He snorts to himself. Must have been some rough trick.
"Nice painting," Brian scoffs. "Did it insult you?"
Suddenly protective, Justin crosses the room and tears the painting out of his hands, storms to the kitchen, and shoves it in the trash can.
"Someone's feisty tonight." Brian walks over and leans against the counter, looking down at Justin and tangling a hand in his hair. His mouth is drawn down and there's still desperation there, mixed with worry, and Justin knows he's a mile away. It makes him furious.
So he leans forward and up and licks at the red spot. He takes a double-take when he realizes it's tangy and tastes like barbeque sauce. Just where had Brian gone to?
Slowly the desperation skitters off Brian's face, and Justin is disappointed to see it gone, but then his eyes flash and there's lust, and before Justin remembers that he's supposed to be telling him where to shove it and leaving, he's gasping for breath, and hoping Brian will shove it up his ass.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget everything but my name," Brian promises, placing a hand on Justin's chest and pushing him so that he almost trips over the trash can but ends up sagging against the stove.
When Brian kisses him, taking his wrists in his hand and pulling them back to a burner, it tastes like the desperation that's void everywhere else. Justin's as hard as ever. He tries gaining purchase to leap onto the stove but Brian sinks his teeth into Justin's neck, and he rather forgets he has legs, so he sags to the floor.
Brian quickly undresses, his lips somehow never leaving Justin's body, and then he's tearing off Justin's shirt. Pants. Thrusting his underwear past his knees and bending them. Justin lifts his ass off the floor enticingly.
Brian smirks at him, looking nearly as sexy as when he was desperate, and lowers his head. His breath is ghosting over Justin's balls, driving him wild. Justin's head thrashes back and forth, trying to compensate for the need of Brian's skin on his.
A wet digit strokes Justin's hole, and he stills except for his spreading legs. Then there's two fingers up Justin's ass. Brian's still breathing on his balls, his fingers twisting and thrusting harshly, and Justin's panting and pressing down.
Suddenly there's a pounding on the door. Brian must have left it unlocked because Mel storms in. She takes one look at them on the kitchen floor, Justin's underwear around his ankles, and starts screaming at them.
"Gus is in the bedroom," Brian says calmly, removing his fingers from Justin's ass. Justin whines because he wants it back, because it's home. But then Brian takes a condom out of his back pocket and rolls it on, and Mel starts screaming even louder.
And Justin laughs and holds on to Brian, because, really, what else is he to do?