Ficlet: QAF "You're So Vanilla"
Title: You’re So Vanilla
Rating: R
Summary: Grocery shopping. Brian’s bored. Justin’s naïve.
Author’s Note: This happens in the midst of Season 1, episode 12, after the ‘ice cream kisses’ sequence, but before Brian and Michael are reconciled.
Disclaimer: Not mine, but CowLip's and Showtime's. Alas.
The argument started over something stupid, though that wasn’t unusual. Standing in front of the frozen foods case at the grocery store, Brian had already reached in for a pint of low-fat vanilla ice cream when Justin grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“I thought you hated that stuff. Banned it from the loft. Forbade me to mention it to you again because, quote, ‘even the words Ben and Jerry’s were fattening,’ unquote.” Justin gave Brian an accusing look that had a hint of mockery, too. He’d suddenly found a weakness in his unbelievably hot un-boyfriend, and was going to exploit it for all it was worth.
After the shit he’d taken over this, he was gonna make Brian squirm.
It was 100% Brian to lay down the law about something he didn’t want to see, hear, or do, and he never recanted. He abhorred acrylic fabrics, sea-foam green, the Impressionists, and anything by ‘no-talent so-called musicians’ like Shakira.
When Brian made up his mind about something, it rarely changed. He figured out what he liked, then stuck with a brand or a design or a food through thick and thin. Classic red or eggplant with gangster-wide pinstripes, it didn’t matter: he’d go on buying Armani no matter what. Justin was learning to assume that there would always be Evian in the refrigerator, just as he’d assumed there’d never be another pint of ice cream in the loft after Brian’s pronouncement.
“I’ve decided that there can be one pint per month. Ten minutes more on the Stairmaster won’t kill me.” Brian pulled his wrist away from Justin and put the container in the basket he had slung over one arm. He loathed shopping for groceries and detested the thought that it would take one second longer than necessary. This conversation looked to extend his time in the store by at least another five minutes, if Justin ran true to form.
“So. Since when did you decide to permit such a flagrant violation of your rules?” Justin was teasing, but he also wanted Brian to admit that he was influenced by Justin’s presence, his preferences, his tastes when it came to sex.
Brian met his eyes and gave him the Flat Stare of Doom, as Justin once described it to Daphne. ‘Ask me one more stupid thing and you can fuck off’ was what Brian hoped the look would accomplish, trying to cut short this discussion and the shopping trip at the same time. He was already walking towards the check out line at the front of the store, leaving Justin to dodge a few other customers as he trailed after the tall dark-haired man.
The three check out lines were filled with weekend shoppers, and though he chose what he thought was the fastest moving one, Brian became trapped behind a woman who appeared to be buying enough provisions to survive the next nuclear attack. For a family of ten.
Justin caught him there, and resumed the interrogation. “You love me. You soooooooo love me. You want to have us do it again and again, don’t you?” Justin’s voice had that sing-song quality to it that he used whenever he wanted to annoy Brian, but sometimes he could provoke a reaction if he timed things right.
“Yeah, whatever. Now will you shut up and get me three packs of…
“Sugar-free Extra. Yeah, I know.” Brian’s taste in chewing gum was predictable, as was his attempt to derail Justin in mid-thought, and Justin wasn’t about to drop things now. He pulled the packets out of the rack while they stood there and tossed them in the basket. “When did you change your mind?” he asked, pursuing the earlier line of questioning.
Brian had absolutely no intention of telling him that. He’d been trying to forget that Michael wasn’t speaking to him, and Justin’s trick with the ice cream had been the perfect form of amnesia. Fifteen seconds into getting his cock sucked by a warm mouth that contained a cool tongue, he was hooked. But he’d be damned if he admitted that weakness.
Not with words anyway.
He looked at the young blond and licked his lips, slowly, so there’d be no mistake. “I have plans for this ice cream.” The look he gave Justin wasn’t so much smoldering as searing. Four thousand degrees Kelvin and Justin knew Brian’s eyes would incinerate him in another ten seconds. An asbestos fireman’s suit couldn’t stop it from happening.
Justin’s knees began to wobble, and his Adam’s apple suddenly felt huge. He had a flashback of the two of them, curved in Brian’s leather and steel chair, his lips around the most beautiful cock in the world, his lover’s head thrown back in ecstasy while Justin was crowned with a gold medal in his first-ever Brian Kinney Sex Olympics. Specialty? Marathon Cocksucking.
“Plans?” His voice broke somewhere in the middle of the word, which put the biggest shiteating grin on Brian’s face.
The woman in front of them now had about half of her cart emptied, but it was still gonna be another few minutes before they reached the head of the line. Brian replied in a slightly deeper voice, “Yeah. Plans.”
Then he gave Justin a nudge, saying, “Go get some chocolate sauce. Squeeze bottle. Aisle 3.” And his eyebrows went up fractionally.
Justin’s heart started pounding faster, his feet apparently stuck to the floor with Superglue. He’d been hoping for an hour in bed at the loft before he had to get back to work at the diner, but with Brian, nothing was ever a sure thing. Now he knew: Brian wanted him. Today. This afternoon. Just knowing that they would be together, naked, once they got to Tremont Street was causing Justin’s brain to freeze up. He said the first thing he could think of. “So why didn't you get chocolate ice cream in the first place?”
Brian’s eyebrows went up another millimeter, the message one Justin understood instantly. Do I have to spell it out for you?
Oh.
Ohhhhhhhh.
A new set of mental images drag raced across Justin’s brain. Painting his name in chocolate onto Brian’s chest then licking it off. Brian drizzling sauce down the curve of his spine, then into the cleft of his buttocks, only to follow it with his incredible tongue. Cock au chocolate.
Justin’s cheeks flamed red, and Brian laughed out loud, reading the sexual fantasies as they paraded across Justin’s face, each one more dirty than the last.
Justin nearly knocked over two customers sprinting for Aisle 3. Brian stood there, watching him disappear, forgetting how he always got pissed off when he had to wait in line.
He loved being the first to try everything with a vanilla boy.
Rating: R
Summary: Grocery shopping. Brian’s bored. Justin’s naïve.
Author’s Note: This happens in the midst of Season 1, episode 12, after the ‘ice cream kisses’ sequence, but before Brian and Michael are reconciled.
Disclaimer: Not mine, but CowLip's and Showtime's. Alas.
The argument started over something stupid, though that wasn’t unusual. Standing in front of the frozen foods case at the grocery store, Brian had already reached in for a pint of low-fat vanilla ice cream when Justin grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“I thought you hated that stuff. Banned it from the loft. Forbade me to mention it to you again because, quote, ‘even the words Ben and Jerry’s were fattening,’ unquote.” Justin gave Brian an accusing look that had a hint of mockery, too. He’d suddenly found a weakness in his unbelievably hot un-boyfriend, and was going to exploit it for all it was worth.
After the shit he’d taken over this, he was gonna make Brian squirm.
It was 100% Brian to lay down the law about something he didn’t want to see, hear, or do, and he never recanted. He abhorred acrylic fabrics, sea-foam green, the Impressionists, and anything by ‘no-talent so-called musicians’ like Shakira.
When Brian made up his mind about something, it rarely changed. He figured out what he liked, then stuck with a brand or a design or a food through thick and thin. Classic red or eggplant with gangster-wide pinstripes, it didn’t matter: he’d go on buying Armani no matter what. Justin was learning to assume that there would always be Evian in the refrigerator, just as he’d assumed there’d never be another pint of ice cream in the loft after Brian’s pronouncement.
“I’ve decided that there can be one pint per month. Ten minutes more on the Stairmaster won’t kill me.” Brian pulled his wrist away from Justin and put the container in the basket he had slung over one arm. He loathed shopping for groceries and detested the thought that it would take one second longer than necessary. This conversation looked to extend his time in the store by at least another five minutes, if Justin ran true to form.
“So. Since when did you decide to permit such a flagrant violation of your rules?” Justin was teasing, but he also wanted Brian to admit that he was influenced by Justin’s presence, his preferences, his tastes when it came to sex.
Brian met his eyes and gave him the Flat Stare of Doom, as Justin once described it to Daphne. ‘Ask me one more stupid thing and you can fuck off’ was what Brian hoped the look would accomplish, trying to cut short this discussion and the shopping trip at the same time. He was already walking towards the check out line at the front of the store, leaving Justin to dodge a few other customers as he trailed after the tall dark-haired man.
The three check out lines were filled with weekend shoppers, and though he chose what he thought was the fastest moving one, Brian became trapped behind a woman who appeared to be buying enough provisions to survive the next nuclear attack. For a family of ten.
Justin caught him there, and resumed the interrogation. “You love me. You soooooooo love me. You want to have us do it again and again, don’t you?” Justin’s voice had that sing-song quality to it that he used whenever he wanted to annoy Brian, but sometimes he could provoke a reaction if he timed things right.
“Yeah, whatever. Now will you shut up and get me three packs of…
“Sugar-free Extra. Yeah, I know.” Brian’s taste in chewing gum was predictable, as was his attempt to derail Justin in mid-thought, and Justin wasn’t about to drop things now. He pulled the packets out of the rack while they stood there and tossed them in the basket. “When did you change your mind?” he asked, pursuing the earlier line of questioning.
Brian had absolutely no intention of telling him that. He’d been trying to forget that Michael wasn’t speaking to him, and Justin’s trick with the ice cream had been the perfect form of amnesia. Fifteen seconds into getting his cock sucked by a warm mouth that contained a cool tongue, he was hooked. But he’d be damned if he admitted that weakness.
Not with words anyway.
He looked at the young blond and licked his lips, slowly, so there’d be no mistake. “I have plans for this ice cream.” The look he gave Justin wasn’t so much smoldering as searing. Four thousand degrees Kelvin and Justin knew Brian’s eyes would incinerate him in another ten seconds. An asbestos fireman’s suit couldn’t stop it from happening.
Justin’s knees began to wobble, and his Adam’s apple suddenly felt huge. He had a flashback of the two of them, curved in Brian’s leather and steel chair, his lips around the most beautiful cock in the world, his lover’s head thrown back in ecstasy while Justin was crowned with a gold medal in his first-ever Brian Kinney Sex Olympics. Specialty? Marathon Cocksucking.
“Plans?” His voice broke somewhere in the middle of the word, which put the biggest shiteating grin on Brian’s face.
The woman in front of them now had about half of her cart emptied, but it was still gonna be another few minutes before they reached the head of the line. Brian replied in a slightly deeper voice, “Yeah. Plans.”
Then he gave Justin a nudge, saying, “Go get some chocolate sauce. Squeeze bottle. Aisle 3.” And his eyebrows went up fractionally.
Justin’s heart started pounding faster, his feet apparently stuck to the floor with Superglue. He’d been hoping for an hour in bed at the loft before he had to get back to work at the diner, but with Brian, nothing was ever a sure thing. Now he knew: Brian wanted him. Today. This afternoon. Just knowing that they would be together, naked, once they got to Tremont Street was causing Justin’s brain to freeze up. He said the first thing he could think of. “So why didn't you get chocolate ice cream in the first place?”
Brian’s eyebrows went up another millimeter, the message one Justin understood instantly. Do I have to spell it out for you?
Oh.
Ohhhhhhhh.
A new set of mental images drag raced across Justin’s brain. Painting his name in chocolate onto Brian’s chest then licking it off. Brian drizzling sauce down the curve of his spine, then into the cleft of his buttocks, only to follow it with his incredible tongue. Cock au chocolate.
Justin’s cheeks flamed red, and Brian laughed out loud, reading the sexual fantasies as they paraded across Justin’s face, each one more dirty than the last.
Justin nearly knocked over two customers sprinting for Aisle 3. Brian stood there, watching him disappear, forgetting how he always got pissed off when he had to wait in line.
He loved being the first to try everything with a vanilla boy.