All He Wants For Christmas
Title: All He Wants For Christmas
Character: Brian/Justin
Word Count: 777
Rating: R
Status: Complete
Note: This takes place post-series, but I haven't actually finished watching S4 yet, so everything may not be accurate. I've read post-series fics and read on wikipedia, but that doesn't mean the same thing as actually seeing it.If there are any errors regarding canon, I apologize.
Note 2: Also, this is a Christmas fic for my lovely Kyra. Hope you like it, hun! ♥
Note 3: I'd also like to thank bassair for acting as beta to this fic. ♥
Summary: There's only one thing that Brian Kinney wants for Christmas and he's going to make sure he gets it.
PLEASE REVIEW!
“This place is a dump.”
“Don’t mock my dump,” Justin said, looking up from where he was drawing on a secondhand (probably more like fourth-hand) table.
“You could be living somewhere better.”
Justin shook his head, getting up from the table and crossing the tiny living room in seconds. His arms wrapped up around Brian’s neck as he pulled him down for a kiss. “I let you pay for school,” he said as he pulled back. “Let me pay for this.”
“It’s a dump.”
“I know. Now, help me with the Christmas tree.”
---
It took hours to get it up. One as they fought about where to put it in the too-small apartment. Another as Justin pouted that a fake tree was nowhere near as nice as a real one and Brian reminded him that it was just a pointless holiday anyway. Yet another was spent as they wrestled with the tree stand in a vain attempt to get the tree to stand straight. Two as they argued about colored or white lights, garland or ribbons, Brian wanting to just say fuck the tree and go have sex. It took four to get the ornaments on after they’d finally agreed on colored lights and the garland was in pieces all over the floor.
It wasn’t a perfect tree. Anyone could see that the branches were artificial and that it tilted to the left a bit (they couldn’t agree on if it was just the quality of the tree or if there were too many ornaments on one side).
“It’s no tree at Rockefeller Center,” Justin mused, feeling somewhat proud of the tree, “But I like it.”
Brian examined it for another minute before kissing his neck. “It doesn’t suck.”
Justin knew that was Brian-speak for I like it, too.
---
The heating in the apartment had gone out again and they lay in front of the tree, naked and covered in a too-short, too-worn fleece blanket. It barely covered Brian as he lay atop Justin, kissing down his neck. He smirked into Justin’s collarbone as the man beneath him shuddered.
This wasn’t the Christmas Justin thought he’d have when he moved to New York. He thought that he’d be spending it alone with no money to fly home while everyone else celebrated and exchanged candy cane flavored dildos.
Then Brian got there and he wasn’t missing home. It sounded sappy, but it was the truth. Just seeing Brian standing in the middle of his crappy apartment with his Armani and Prada, it made him stop missing Pittsburgh...even with the disapproving stares Brian gave his couch..kitchen...table...everything.
“Molly and I used to do this every year.”
“This?” Brian snorted, grinding down against Justin’s hips and making him groan low in his throat.
“Funny. No,” he said, arching up into Brian, “We’d set up the tree and spend-oh, God!-sleep under it.”
Brian chuckled, low, as he kissed him one more time before breaking away enough to reach over Justin’s head. His hand slipped into Justin’s as he pulled it back and leant to press his lips to Justin’s ear. “Put it on me.”
Justin gave Brian a tiny grin as he moved to rip open the condom. It took his mind a second before his body froze.
There wasn’t just a condom in his hand.
His eyes fell down to his hand and widened as the condom slipped from his palm leaving one thing in his hand.
A ring.
The ring.
The ring Brian would have been wearing if they’d...
His eyes shot to Brian, wide and disbelieving as his hand trembled. “Wh-what?”
“Put it on me.”
“But...what about...”
“Fuck ‘em all,” Brian said with a hint of a smirk.
Brian Kinney was asking him to marry him. Again.
And, God, he wanted to just put that ring on Brian’s finger and fuck under the Christmas tree, but he hesitated. They’d called off the wedding for a reason.
Fuck ‘em all.
He stared at Brian, at the dead serious expression and-dare he say it-hopeful eyes.
He wanted this.
Brian Kinney wanted to get married.
To him.
He wanted to get married to him and fuck everything else. Fuck what people said, fuck New York.
He could paint in Pittsburgh. He could paint at Britin.
Justin smiled, smiled so wide he could feel the skin on his face hurting from the stretch.
He slipped the ring on Brian’s finger.
Platinum shone back at him, colored in the Christmas lights. It couldn’t have looked any better. Brian couldn’t look any sexier.
He pulled Brian in for a kiss.
They didn’t leave the apartment all weekend.
The End
Character: Brian/Justin
Word Count: 777
Rating: R
Status: Complete
Note: This takes place post-series, but I haven't actually finished watching S4 yet, so everything may not be accurate. I've read post-series fics and read on wikipedia, but that doesn't mean the same thing as actually seeing it.If there are any errors regarding canon, I apologize.
Note 2: Also, this is a Christmas fic for my lovely Kyra. Hope you like it, hun! ♥
Note 3: I'd also like to thank bassair for acting as beta to this fic. ♥
Summary: There's only one thing that Brian Kinney wants for Christmas and he's going to make sure he gets it.
PLEASE REVIEW!
“This place is a dump.”
“Don’t mock my dump,” Justin said, looking up from where he was drawing on a secondhand (probably more like fourth-hand) table.
“You could be living somewhere better.”
Justin shook his head, getting up from the table and crossing the tiny living room in seconds. His arms wrapped up around Brian’s neck as he pulled him down for a kiss. “I let you pay for school,” he said as he pulled back. “Let me pay for this.”
“It’s a dump.”
“I know. Now, help me with the Christmas tree.”
---
It took hours to get it up. One as they fought about where to put it in the too-small apartment. Another as Justin pouted that a fake tree was nowhere near as nice as a real one and Brian reminded him that it was just a pointless holiday anyway. Yet another was spent as they wrestled with the tree stand in a vain attempt to get the tree to stand straight. Two as they argued about colored or white lights, garland or ribbons, Brian wanting to just say fuck the tree and go have sex. It took four to get the ornaments on after they’d finally agreed on colored lights and the garland was in pieces all over the floor.
It wasn’t a perfect tree. Anyone could see that the branches were artificial and that it tilted to the left a bit (they couldn’t agree on if it was just the quality of the tree or if there were too many ornaments on one side).
“It’s no tree at Rockefeller Center,” Justin mused, feeling somewhat proud of the tree, “But I like it.”
Brian examined it for another minute before kissing his neck. “It doesn’t suck.”
Justin knew that was Brian-speak for I like it, too.
---
The heating in the apartment had gone out again and they lay in front of the tree, naked and covered in a too-short, too-worn fleece blanket. It barely covered Brian as he lay atop Justin, kissing down his neck. He smirked into Justin’s collarbone as the man beneath him shuddered.
This wasn’t the Christmas Justin thought he’d have when he moved to New York. He thought that he’d be spending it alone with no money to fly home while everyone else celebrated and exchanged candy cane flavored dildos.
Then Brian got there and he wasn’t missing home. It sounded sappy, but it was the truth. Just seeing Brian standing in the middle of his crappy apartment with his Armani and Prada, it made him stop missing Pittsburgh...even with the disapproving stares Brian gave his couch..kitchen...table...everything.
“Molly and I used to do this every year.”
“This?” Brian snorted, grinding down against Justin’s hips and making him groan low in his throat.
“Funny. No,” he said, arching up into Brian, “We’d set up the tree and spend-oh, God!-sleep under it.”
Brian chuckled, low, as he kissed him one more time before breaking away enough to reach over Justin’s head. His hand slipped into Justin’s as he pulled it back and leant to press his lips to Justin’s ear. “Put it on me.”
Justin gave Brian a tiny grin as he moved to rip open the condom. It took his mind a second before his body froze.
There wasn’t just a condom in his hand.
His eyes fell down to his hand and widened as the condom slipped from his palm leaving one thing in his hand.
A ring.
The ring.
The ring Brian would have been wearing if they’d...
His eyes shot to Brian, wide and disbelieving as his hand trembled. “Wh-what?”
“Put it on me.”
“But...what about...”
“Fuck ‘em all,” Brian said with a hint of a smirk.
Brian Kinney was asking him to marry him. Again.
And, God, he wanted to just put that ring on Brian’s finger and fuck under the Christmas tree, but he hesitated. They’d called off the wedding for a reason.
Fuck ‘em all.
He stared at Brian, at the dead serious expression and-dare he say it-hopeful eyes.
He wanted this.
Brian Kinney wanted to get married.
To him.
He wanted to get married to him and fuck everything else. Fuck what people said, fuck New York.
He could paint in Pittsburgh. He could paint at Britin.
Justin smiled, smiled so wide he could feel the skin on his face hurting from the stretch.
He slipped the ring on Brian’s finger.
Platinum shone back at him, colored in the Christmas lights. It couldn’t have looked any better. Brian couldn’t look any sexier.
He pulled Brian in for a kiss.
They didn’t leave the apartment all weekend.
The End