Fic: Full Circle [ 1/3 ] [Three's A Crowd 'verse]
Title: Full Circle
Author: museme87
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 5,749
Warnings: strong language, sexual situations
Summary: Brian knows that weddings change everything, but he didn't figure today's would end like this.
Author's Note: Written as a gift fic for k_innetik. Betaed by the lovely moonbrightnites and later2nite, who deserve all the thanks. This is the first part in a two-part fic, and part two is on its way shortly. This is set in my Three's A Crowd 'verse, roughly +2 years after the main series.
"You look hot."
Brian hums appreciatively, leaning into Justin's back as Justin slices some apples for the road. His lips meet the warm skin at Justin's neck, lingering to kiss and nip there for a brief moment. There's a contented sigh from his partner, one that makes Brian smile to himself. He relishes it briefly and then smacks Justin's ass before moving to the fridge.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Brian says.
Retrieving the guava juice, he maneuvers around Justin-intentionally clumsy about it-to get a glass from the cabinet. Blue eyes tear into him-all disappointment and can't-you-see-I'm-busy-here-Brian-and Justin even fidgets around him once or twice in an attempt to finish up the apples. Brian can see that he's busy, of course, just as well as he can see the mounting stress in Justin's every movement. He expected as much from today; Justin doesn't deal with time crunches very well anymore.
Because of that, Brian captures Justin's wrist the minute he moves to grab one last apple. He spins his blond ball-and-chain-unconventional and unofficial, of course-around and pins him against the counter, hip to hip.
"You're looking pretty good yourself, Sunshine."
It earns him a smirk and an eyeroll.
"I'm not even dressed yet."
"So just imagine how sexy you'll look in Dolce & Gabbana. I'm practically undressing you already."
Ducking down, Brian steals a long, slow kiss from Justin. His fingers light on Justin's neck, coaxing a smothered moan from Justin with a flick of his tongue and blatant roll of his hips. Justin sucks on his bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. He bites down just a bit too hard, earning him a slap on the thigh from Brian's hand. But, it doesn't do a damn thing to deter him.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Kinney," Justin mumbles against his jaw.
"Let me suck you off."
Brian trails a finger along the growing bulge in Justin's well-worn, paint-splotched khakis, his own Armani trousers becoming a bit tight. Their quick fuck this morning in bed-while satisfying, as always-isn't going to curb his desire to have Justin's ass for long. And between the hour ride to the venue and the chaos that will make up their afternoon, Brian doesn't figure he'll have much room for opportunity. Just as Brian thinks he has him talked into a quickie, Justin pushes him away with one last kiss.
"I really want to, but we're already running behind schedule. There's no way in hell I'm going to be able to get myself showered and dressed in twenty minutes, let alone finish up Eli."
"This whole parenting and supporting your friends in making the biggest mistake of their lives thing is really cutting in on my sex life. I say we skip the wedding."
"We can't. Our daughter is a flower girl."
"So is Jenny. How many fucking flowers do they need thrown down the aisle anyway?"
"While you're as persuasive as ever, we're still going." Justin leans in a little, kissing his neck before moving to his ear. "But if you promise to be on your best behavior, I'll ride your cock tonight."
He groans at the mental image of that and wonders how fast they'll be able to get the kid to bed in her adjoining room. If they limit her sugar and encourage her to dance a lot, she'll be asleep before her head hits the pillow, no doubt.
"I'll hold you to it."
"You won't have to, but feel free to restrain me in any way you see fit, Mr. Kinney."
"Justin, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to have your ass on the kitchen table right now."
"We don't have time," Justin says, shifting from sexy to flustered in a split second. He turns back to the counter, inspecting the contents. "I feel like I'm forgetting something."
Brian pours some of his abandoned guava juice into a glass, slipping the container back into the fridge as he sips. Glancing to Justin's little work area, Brian considers what might be missing since the last thing he wants to do is stop at the goddamn store on the way to Emmett's wedding.
"Juice boxes?" Brian offers.
"Packed them."
"Those wet wipes for her hands?"
Justin chews on his thumbnail, deep in thought. "No, I have those."
"Condoms?"
"In our bags upstairs. You know I don't keep them in Eli's bag anymore. Not after that one time."
"Goldfish crackers?"
"Fuck! I forgot them. Elise would have been inconsolable the whole trip."
Yeah, most likely. For whatever reason, the kid keeps going through snack phases, and whenever they don't have said snack-of-the-week on hand, Eli turns on the waterworks. She's a real drama princess in training, but at least she gets it honest.
"I thought you said she'd grow out of the Terrible Twos," Brian mutters, searching through the cupboard for one of their fruit bars for breakfast.
"She did. And right into the Troublesome Threes. Next is the Fearsome Fours."
Brian's pretty sure Justin's just making this up as he goes along. However, it's not altogether inaccurate. When he signed up for this whole full-time fatherhood thing, he didn't know that he would be parenting a mini-monster. She was perfectly fine for the first year, all quiet and easy-to-please. Brian's pretty sure that's what lulled him-and all parents, really-into a false sense of security. But then her second birthday came around and fuck. Nowadays she's a pretty little nightmare.
"So when do you think she'll be tolerable again?"
Justin smirks. "Aside from those few, fleeting moments once or twice a week? I imagine when she's about…thirty, give or take. You're not regretting this, are you?"
As if somehow on cue, Brian hears Eli coming down the hallway. He seriously starts to consider Justin's question when the kid shows up in the doorway, stripped down to her underwear with shaving cream on her face and a pair of vibrantly yellow and pink bumblebee slippers on her feet. Does he regret this? Does he regret making her a Kinney-well, a Taylor-Kinney? Brian expects the natural response to be a resounding yes, so he's surprised when it doesn't come. He feels frustrated and amused and a little crazy, but he definitely doesn't feel regret.
"My shoes is all gone," she announces gravely.
"Elise!" Justin groans, definitely frustrated. "Why are you naked? Daddy just dressed you."
"I think it's pretty obvious, Sunshine. She's a little exhibitionist in training."
"Score one for nurture then," Justin says pointedly.
"I got bees." Elise lifts her left foot and wiggles it for them, nearly falling over in the process. "Bees is lellow."
"You can't wear those to Uncle Em's wedding, Eli," Justin says, dropping to his knees in front of her in order to take off the slippers. "And why is there shaving cream all over your face?"
"I'm shaving like a daddy."
"Daddys are boys. You're a little girl, and little girls don't shave."
"Yeah, I know," Elise says. "I'm shaving."
"No, Elise," Justin corrects. "You-"
"You have to wait until you're five to shave, Eli," Brian says, figuring everyone would have much less of a headache if they skipped the lecture on the physiological differences between the sexes; he really fucking wonders what goes through Justin's head half the time.
"Oh." She smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand-something she must have caught on TV-and then giggles. "Oops, I'm so silly."
"Very silly," Justin agrees, picking her up and settling her on his hip. "Brian, would you mind taking her so I can finish this up, please?"
Glancing between his half-eaten fruit bar and his half-naked child, Brian seriously starts to consider how the hell he got talked into this life.
~*~*~*~
"I don't like it," Elise says, scrunching her toes up as Brian tries to slip on her shoes.
As she sits on her bed, Brian glances up from where he kneels in front of her. His expression is all hard, all like-I-give-a-shit. He doesn't say it, of course, because all the kid does now is repeat after them. She'd told Justin a couple weeks ago that they'd spent the afternoon cruising tricks at the park on Liberty. And needless to say, Brian doesn't need an encore performance of Justin's you-cannot-use-our-child-to-pick-up-men-you-irresponsible-asshole speech. Not that he doesn't know it by heart already. So, he watches what he says a little more closely now that they have a fucking parrot in the family.
And as for Elise not liking it? Well, color him surprised. As if her not-so-subtly hiding every shoe she owns all over the upstairs to avoid wearing real shoes wasn't a big enough clue. It took him ten minutes to find a mate to her tennis shoes alone before Justin interrupted saying that he'd rather her wear her sandals to the venue because it was supposed to be hot today. Brian thinks he'll refrain from telling Justin that Elise stashed one sandal in their sex toy drawer and hope she'll forget coming across it.
"Well I don't like the way you're making this pretty damn impossible, kiddo. You have to wear these shoes until we get to the wedding."
She sticks out her lip, pouting. "I has bees."
"You can't wear the bees. They're for inside only." He can already see her ready to counter his point, so he adds, "If you show up in slippers, everyone will laugh at you."
"Nuh-uh. Bees is pretty. Grammy likes bees. I wear the bees." She lifts her foot-nearly kicking Brian's face in the process-and wiggles it. "On my toes."
"Not today."
"Yeah, to the party. I going with the bees." Elise points to her foot. "On my toes. Right now, Daddy."
Maybe science hasn't found it yet, but there has got to be a fucking gene that codes for bossiness. She's just like Justin in that regard. Yeah, alright, she may get her control-freak tendencies from him, but he has nothing to do with this. Justin earns another point for her attitude in their endless nurture-nature debate.
"What was that?" he asks, tone warning.
"Magic words is pwease." She very carefully, very slowly bats her blue eyes at him. "Pwease?"
The fact that she still doesn't get the difference between batting her eyes and blinking really slowly to try to sweeten them up may be the cutest fucking thing ever. He'd never thought he'd actually live to see the day when he considered anything to be cute, but his kids are living proof that such a thing exists.
Cute or otherwise, he still doesn't know how to deal with her this morning. She's as trying as she's been since the day of her second birthday-fuck two-year-olds-so Brian figures he must have woke up wrong this morning.
It doesn't help that they're going to a wedding and that he'll be subjected to displays of romance and affection for the next twelve goddamn hours. Or that there'll be cake that Justin will force feed him, which he'll have to spend hours trying to work off. Or that Justin will get caught up in all the bullshit, and Brian will spend the rest of the night fearing Justin will want to talk about commitment and monogamy.
Fuck. Weddings.
And fuck little kid shoes that are fucking puzzle boxes and refuse to go on said little kid's fucking foot if the stars don't magically align and heavens fail to part.
"Justin!" Brian shouts towards the hallway. "Your daughter is being insufferable!"
He hears Justin's Brian, which sounds a lot like it does when Justin just needs ten fucking minutes to myself, please after a trying day with Eli. Sometimes Justin acts like he has two toddlers in the house-he may have said as much once or twice-instead of one. Brian resents that because he helps out more than a lot of fathers, his own and Justin's being prime examples. Just, he's at his wit's end and might smother her with a pillow if he doesn't get ten goddamn minutes to himself. Well, not really-he thinks he sort of loves her-but still.
Despite being put out, Justin appears in the doorway. He's nearly dressed-just missing his pants-with a toothbrush in his mouth. Brian thinks he looks hot, feels that familiar twitch of his cock, and realizes that this is what sort-of-commitment does to a man.
"What? Why is she my daughter?" he asks around the toothbrush.
"Because only something with your genes could drive me out of my mind like this."
As Justin smiles, Brian stands up. Elise makes a grab to try and tickle him-fuck Justin for telling her he's ticklish-but he evades her, snatching up her stuffed kangaroo in the process. He tosses it lightly at her head, and she erupts into a fit of giggles. It's a nice sound, one that Brian stops and takes the time to cherish if only because there was a stark absence of it in his own childhood. Her laughter tells him everything he needs to know about fatherhood-she's happy, healthy, and he hasn't failed her yet.
As he attempts to slip out of the room and leave the little imp to Justin's care, Justin stops him with an arm around the waist. The close contact doesn't do much to deter Brian's desire; he'd love to shut them both up in the bathroom for a quick fuck. Justin won't have it though. Still, Justin standing on his toes to kiss him quietly is nice, especially when there's a little tongue involved. Brian finds himself winding around Justin almost unconsciously. Justin pulls back a little, offering him that famous smile.
"She's half yours now, stud."
"Yeah, ask me again if I regret it."
"Do you regret it?" Justin asks, sobering a little.
Brian watches as Justin's expression shifts from interested to concerned to worried. And maybe Brian lets the question linger a bit just to be a shit. When Justin's bordering on panicked, Brian bumps their noses together, then brings his lips to Justin's softly.
"Not a second."
~*~*~*~
This is torture, Brian's sure. As much as he may love them, hour long trips with a living, breathing public service announcement and a three-year-old snack fiend is sometimes enough to make him want to drive off a fucking cliff. Carefully, Brian sips his Caffé Latte-God bless whoever-the-fuck came up with Starbucks-and tries to tune out the sound of Justin arguing about the nutritional merits (or lack thereof) of Goldfish Crackers with their daughter.
So far, Brian figures that Justin obviously has the better argument, but Elise's fuck-all sort of trumps whatever logic Justin is spouting off. If Justin doesn't want the kid to have any more crackers, the best way to fix the whole thing is to just lie about packing them. She'll throw a fit for a minute or two, maybe work up some fake tears, but in the end she'll still take the apples. Brian ought to know; he's survived this meeting of the minds more than once.
When Justin finally settles and splits her snack fifty-fifty, Brian assumes that the worst of it is over. He and Justin share a look, something akin to we desperately need some time to ourselves. Taking the latte from Brian's hand, Justin drinks for a little caffeine pick-me-up, no doubt, before grimacing like he always does and handing it back.
"That tastes terrible."
Brian sips. "To uncultured taste buds, maybe."
"You do know that has seven grams of fat in it, right?"
"No, it would have had seven grams of fat if I hadn't ordered it with non-fat milk."
"It's still not good for you," Justin says, shooting him a look.
"Well, Sunshine, when my performance starts to suffer, we'll talk about cutting back. Until then, I'd like to enjoy my latte sans annoying commentary."
"Who says your performance isn't suffering already?"
Brian clears his throat. "Oh, Brian," he begins in a falsetto, "fuck me harder with your glorious, nine-inch co-"
"Brian!" Justin warns, glancing back to check on Elise.
Brian does as well, but sees that she is far too preoccupied with inspecting her apple slices to pay them any attention. He shrugs, turning back to Justin. No harm, no foul.
"I do not say shit like that," Justin whispers harshly.
"I may have taken a few artistic liberties."
"More than a few." Justin bends down and begins to dig through a bag between his feet. "And I do not sound like a girl."
Elise's head pops up from her inspection. "I'm a girl!"
"Well deduced, Nancy Drew."
"Huh?" she asks, nose wrinkled up.
"Spare her the snarky responses littered with pop culture references until she's at least a little older, will you?" Justin begs, weary.
"Mommies is girls. I got a mommy."
Justin pulls out the camera bag from the other bag and then turns to look back at her. "Yes, you do."
"She gonna come back now?"
Brian doesn't like how quiet her voice gets, how uncertain. It's been a few months since Delaney's come to visit, and most of the time Brian thinks that the longer the time between visits, the better. Except, Eli isn't so little anymore that she doesn't notice her mother's absence. He thinks she'd be better off with Delaney completely out of their lives, but Justin won't have it. Maybe it'll get better when Elise is a little older and can better understand the situation. Until then, though, Brian has to deal with his kid's sad faces and uncomfortable questions.
"Probably soon, Eli. She's busy with work, but I know she misses you a lot."
"Yeah. I'm so cute." Elise sighs and then goes back to scrutinizing the apples. "These is ucky, Daddy."
"Oh don't give me that. You fu-you love apples."
Brian smirks, eyes never straying from the road. Watching Eli drive Justin out of his fucking mind to the point where he's almost swearing in front of her is, admittedly, one of Brian's favorite pastimes. Second only to nailing Justin's pretty little ass.
"Nuh-uh."
"Elise."
"They is the most uckiest," she says with this small, wicked smile.
While he's not sure if three year olds are capable of intentionally antagonizing their elders, Brian's pretty fucking sure that's what she's doing. He swells with pride, self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. The kid is pretty fucking amazing, despite her many shortcomings. Well, as long as he isn't on the receiving end of her arguing. It's just goddamn insufferable then.
"Brian," Justin prompts.
"What? Don't put me in the middle of this meeting of the minds. I'm just the driver, which relieves me of any and all parenting responsibilities while your ass is in the car."
"Those rules need revising. She's beyond dropping sippy cups and requiring Cheerios now."
"The fuck they do," Brian says, indignant.
Justin's expression turns admonishing. "Don't swear in front of her. If she starts, it'll take days to get her to stop."
"For Christ's sake, it just slipped."
"Daddy!" Elise kicks the back of Brian's seat much to his annoyance, signaling to him that he's the daddy in question. "We gotta go there."
Looking out the window, Brian sees a cluster of gas stations and hotels off the exit ramp along with a Taco Bell. It's pretty fucking obvious what she's referring to, and there's no goddamn way they're driving through that shitty restaurant-a very generous title at that-at ten in the morning. Or ever.
"Not happening, kid."
"Why?"
"Because Daddy," He points to Justin, "won't allow it."
"Why are you putting this on me?"
"Well you won't."
"That's beside the point!"
"Chris sakes!" Elise shouts, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "I want fucker taco! Pretty pwease!"
This, Brian thinks, is exactly why he and Justin shouldn't have had kids. Justin's so obviously mortified at what she's said that it's laughable. And pretty fucking pissed, too. Brian's not sure that he's getting laid anytime in the next week at the very least. And as for him, he's mostly amused by it. He knows he ought to be admonishing her right now, but he isn't so caught up in fatherhood that he's beyond enjoying her colorful language. Besides, Justin is the responsible parent; he'll take care of it and make sure she feels plenty guilty.
By the time Justin finishes his twenty minute calmly worded tirade on why-we-don't-use-that-kind-of-language-Elise, Brian wishes he would have been the one to correct her. It's not as if she's going to listen anyway. For the most part, he likes to avoid Eli's punishments, always claiming that it's he's the fun daddy rather than reveal the real reason behind his aversion.
There's no doubt in his mind that despite everything-reservations, fears, limitations-he loves his kids and would never do anything to hurt either of them. The idea of being the disciplinarian, though, scares the ever loving shit out of him for reasons that are probably really fucking obvious. He never wants Gus or Eli to experience even an ounce of the fear his father instilled in him.
They fall into silence for the last twenty minutes of the trip-Elise seething quietly in the back, shooting Justin dirty looks and munching on her apples finally, and Justin messing with the new camera. Brian has no doubt that Eli will let her grudges go by the time they arrive at the wedding venue. Justin, however, may be a different story. This fiasco on top of their rough morning is enough to put him in a bad mood all day. Brian doesn't want to deal with a pissy Justin on top of a wedding, so he reaches across the center console of the Jeep and takes Justin's hand.
Hazel eyes move to look back at the kid, and seeing that she's occupied, Brian says softly, "Don't be a shit."
"I'm not."
"You are. I'm going to have to fuck that frown right off your face."
Justin's expression softens, and Brian even earns a tiny smile. "It's been a long day."
"And it's not even noon."
"I don't think I should have gotten out of bed this morning."
"You just need some time off."
Raising a kid and having a full time career isn't exactly a walk in the park, especially when said kid is too smart for her own good. While Brian never really noticed it before now, Justin does look a little tired today. He knows he doesn't help out enough with her, but finding the time while running multiple Kinnetik offices is difficult in itself. They're both juggling too many things at once. Brian figures that once this whole wedding bullshit is over with they probably should sit down and try to work their schedules out. This chaos cannot fucking continue.
"I also think that we ought to make a note of today and file it under Why Even Considering Another Kid is the Stupidest Idea Justin's Come Up with To Fucking Date," Brian says.
"You'll put anything in that file."
"Because you won't see reason. I'm just hoping something I say will get through to you before you do something drastic. Or worse-cliché."
"Oh, whatever, Brian."
"It's all Daphne's fault. Getting your ovaries all aflutter with her big announcement."
Brian knew he was in trouble the moment he came back from Babylon one night and found Justin sifting through Eli's baby pictures. Daphne had told them not a week before that she was knocked up-Brian's phrasing, not hers-and due next year. Justin had been strangely quiet about it, but Brian could see the conversation coming a mile away. He'd promptly put his foot down the moment Justin brought it up. Not that that had ever done anything to deter Justin.
"You're right."
Brian frowns. "It's no fun if you're not going to put up a fight. It takes the satisfaction out of being told I'm right."
"I'm so sorry to disappoint you," Justin says, glancing over at him half-amused.
"We should do something."
"What do you have in mind?"
"An extended childless vacation for two on some sandy, nude beach surrounded by beautiful men. Preferably on another continent."
"You're terrible." Still, Justin smiles. "Do I have any more options?"
"Yeah, we pawn her off on your mom for a few days and collect our sanity."
~*~*~*~
He holds the valet's attention-hazel eyes glossed with desire, smirk practically begging the young man to ask for it-as he shoves a very generous tip into his hand along with the car keys. The guy doesn't seem to register that, in effect, they're done here. And Brian doesn't particularly mind that he's a little awestruck.
Justin always tells him that he can still turn every head on Liberty Avenue, but Brian still relishes baiting some fresh meat. This one is definitely his type, he realizes, wetting his lips just so. Not his one-and-done type, but the sort he likes for a few hours-dark hair, dark eyes, and bronze skin. He looks just a little younger than Justin, which makes it all the sweeter. However, Justin never seemed so scared by his own desire.
"Brian, knock it off!" Justin shouts from the curb, not in jealousy so much as in annoyance.
He nods to Justin before turning back to the valet. "The ball-and-chain beckons."
"I-uh…get off at eight," he says timidly.
"Do you now?" Brian asks, purposefully playing with the valet's words.
The guy's gaze moves briefly to Justin. "If you can ditch him."
"Oh, him?" Brian chuckles. "Him, I don't ditch."
"Bri-an!" Justin draws his name out this time just like he does when he's angry with Elise. "If you keep getting your ego stroked, your head isn't going to fit through the door. Tell the nice young man good-bye and move it."
"I love it when you get bossy, Sunshine!"
Brian moves past the valet without so much as another look and joins Justin on the curb. Justin hands over one of their bags before starting towards Eli, who stares at the revolving door of the hotel like it's a death trap. Snagging him by his dinner jacket, Brian pulls Justin back for a quick peck to the lips.
"He was hot."
"And you're incorrigible," Justin says.
"Doesn't change the fact that he was hot." His tongue finds its way into his cheek, brow raised. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have picked him up."
"He's not my type. I'm more into middle aged men graying around the temples," Justin explains, walking away.
"You little shit! I am not graying."
Justin turns around. "Maybe not yet, but give it a couple more years, stud."
Years ago, Brian would have tossed Justin out of the Loft for talk like that, back when Sunshine wasn't so much Sunshine as he was a teen stalker with one hell of an ass. He'd let Justin come back around eventually, but a point had to be made first. Now the jabs about his age don't bother him as much. Maybe he's succumbed to the inevitability of it, or maybe it has something to do with settling down a little with Justin.
But just because they don't irritate him quite like they used to doesn't mean Justin isn't going to have a sore ass in the morning for the comment.
Since Justin's loaded down with the kid's stuff, Brian scoops her up with his free hand. She starts freaking the fuck out the moment he moves towards the revolving door, wiggling and pushing against his shoulder to get out of his grasp. He can't say that he's completely surprised; Elise hates closed in spaces.
"I don't wanna!" she shouts, fat tears in her eyes. "It's scary!"
He puts her down-it'll be easier this way anyway-and moves towards the right. "Alright, fine. We'll take the other door."
That's the thing about being a sort of family man-Brian learned a year into this thing with Justin that a man has to pick his battles. Real fucking carefully. He never used to care about that before. Justin would deal or could take a goddamn hike for all he cared. Love isn't supposed to be about sacrifice, and Brian sure as hell wasn't willing to be a martyr. Honestly, he still isn't. All he understands is that if shutting up about or compromising on certain things keeps him and Justin together then so be it. Justin's worth the agony of family dinners and vacations, potty training and browsing paint samples.
"Can I see Grammy?" Eli asks, tugging on Brian's hand as he leads her through the door.
"I don't know if she's here yet, kid."
"She is," Justin says as he heads towards the front desk. "She sent me a text when we were getting off I-79."
Brian stops. "Wait, your mother texts?"
"It's the only way she can get in touch with Molly. A lesson learned out of desperation only, I'm sure. Why don't you wait here while I check us in? Oh, and see if Eli needs to go to the bathroom."
"We stopped at that shitty McDonalds in Grove City half an hour ago."
"Hey, if you want to be the one to rush around here looking for a bathroom in ten minutes, that's fine with me. You know how she is."
Brian eyes her. Yeah, he knows how she is. For whatever reason-Brian figures it has something to do with the lingering Terrible Twos-Elise doesn't feel compelled to tell them when she has to go until she's at the point where she has to go Now-with-a-capital-N.
"Do you have to go to the bathroom, Eli?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
She looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Yeah."
He doesn't believe her for a second. Brian's been at the receiving end of that same damn look for a lot longer than she's been around-same supposed innocence, same blue eyes. At this point he knows better than to fucking fall for it.
"Come on, we're going."
"Daddy," she whines, "I don't hafta."
"You do. You just don't know it." He gives her a little tug towards the bathroom across the lobby. "March."
For one very fleeting moment, Brian thinks he's won this battle. Then he sees Eli point to one of the hallways and start doing that little hopping thing she does when she's excited. Glancing over, he spots Deb and Carl and relinquishes hold of her hand, letting her tear a path towards them as he follows dutifully behind.
"Gramma! Gramma! I'm here now!"
"There you are, my little Elise." Deb picks her up and kisses her, smearing bright red lipstick all over her cheek. "And look what you dragged in with you."
"Very funny," Brian says.
"How was the drive, son?" Carl asks, using that fatherly tone that he does with all of them, though Brian's never figured out if he loves it or hates it.
"Have you ever spent an hour in the car with Justin and Elise?"
"Can't say that I have."
Brian smiles. "It's a special kind of hell."
"Daddy isn't being very nice now, is he?" Deb says, giving him a strong piece of her mind with her eye contact alone.
Eli's lip juts out. "I'm so hungry. But Daddy say no Taco Bell! Never ever!"
"You can't even get this poor child a goddamn taco, Brian Kinney? She's skin and bones as it is."
"Yeah, Biam Kimmey," Elise says, scowling.
Brian frowns. "Hey, that's Daddy to you."
He can't believe he just said that. Sure, he can think of a couple scenarios in which he's said something similar in the past, but they were never in that fucking context. Shit. A couple years ago, Brian figured he'd never get used to the full-time fatherhood thing and was definitely leery about letting all of Liberty Avenue know about it. And now he's demanding it like it's his God-given right. What is this fucking world coming to?
Deb looks to Elise. "Lucky for you I packed all kinds of food. What do you say we go upstairs and find you a PB&J, sweetie? And then we'll get you into your pretty dress for the wedding."
"If you don't mind, Brian," Carl adds, always trying to soften Deb's brashness.
"Be my guest. And if you want to keep her for, say, a whole week, I'm sure we could come to some sort of amenable arrangement."
Deb cracks her gum. "Nice try."
As soon as Brian can send them on their way, he heads towards Justin, who is still at the front desk. Initially, Brian thinks someone fucked up their reservations and is ready to tear into said someone-there is no way in fucking hell he is going to drive back to Pittsburgh tonight-but then he realizes that that's not it at all. Justin's only at the desk still because the concierge wants nothing more than to fuck or be fucked by Justin, if the guy's body language is anything to go by.
He stands back, observing for a few seconds. Then Justin notices him and smiles, brow raised. So this is payback for the valet, is it? Brian shakes his head. While it's good they've moved beyond the point that tricking or flirting with some guy causes any problems between them, Brian wants Justin to himself for awhile. He shares 24/7, and his shitty sister can attest to the fact that he does not play well with others for long periods of time.
"Where's Elise?" Justin asks when he finally ditches the blond behind the desk.
"With Deb."
Justin gets much closer now, enthusiasm apparent in his eyes. Brian wants nothing more than to reach out and close what little distance is left between them, but he resists. At least for the moment.
"We're baby-less?"
Brian nods. "We're baby-less."
"For how long?"
"Thirty minutes?"
"How many times do you think you can make me cum in thirty minutes?"
While he knew exactly what was going through Justin's mind, Brian still laughs when he says it. Laughs, leans down, and captures Justin's lips. Justin makes that little hum noise he always does when he's getting hard, signaling to Brian that it's very much time that they check out their suite.
"I like the way you think, Taylor."
Continue
A/N: I hope to have the conclusion to this fic up next week. And, I hope you're enjoying it so far. :)
Author: museme87
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 5,749
Warnings: strong language, sexual situations
Summary: Brian knows that weddings change everything, but he didn't figure today's would end like this.
Author's Note: Written as a gift fic for k_innetik. Betaed by the lovely moonbrightnites and later2nite, who deserve all the thanks. This is the first part in a two-part fic, and part two is on its way shortly. This is set in my Three's A Crowd 'verse, roughly +2 years after the main series.
"You look hot."
Brian hums appreciatively, leaning into Justin's back as Justin slices some apples for the road. His lips meet the warm skin at Justin's neck, lingering to kiss and nip there for a brief moment. There's a contented sigh from his partner, one that makes Brian smile to himself. He relishes it briefly and then smacks Justin's ass before moving to the fridge.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Brian says.
Retrieving the guava juice, he maneuvers around Justin-intentionally clumsy about it-to get a glass from the cabinet. Blue eyes tear into him-all disappointment and can't-you-see-I'm-busy-here-Brian-and Justin even fidgets around him once or twice in an attempt to finish up the apples. Brian can see that he's busy, of course, just as well as he can see the mounting stress in Justin's every movement. He expected as much from today; Justin doesn't deal with time crunches very well anymore.
Because of that, Brian captures Justin's wrist the minute he moves to grab one last apple. He spins his blond ball-and-chain-unconventional and unofficial, of course-around and pins him against the counter, hip to hip.
"You're looking pretty good yourself, Sunshine."
It earns him a smirk and an eyeroll.
"I'm not even dressed yet."
"So just imagine how sexy you'll look in Dolce & Gabbana. I'm practically undressing you already."
Ducking down, Brian steals a long, slow kiss from Justin. His fingers light on Justin's neck, coaxing a smothered moan from Justin with a flick of his tongue and blatant roll of his hips. Justin sucks on his bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. He bites down just a bit too hard, earning him a slap on the thigh from Brian's hand. But, it doesn't do a damn thing to deter him.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Kinney," Justin mumbles against his jaw.
"Let me suck you off."
Brian trails a finger along the growing bulge in Justin's well-worn, paint-splotched khakis, his own Armani trousers becoming a bit tight. Their quick fuck this morning in bed-while satisfying, as always-isn't going to curb his desire to have Justin's ass for long. And between the hour ride to the venue and the chaos that will make up their afternoon, Brian doesn't figure he'll have much room for opportunity. Just as Brian thinks he has him talked into a quickie, Justin pushes him away with one last kiss.
"I really want to, but we're already running behind schedule. There's no way in hell I'm going to be able to get myself showered and dressed in twenty minutes, let alone finish up Eli."
"This whole parenting and supporting your friends in making the biggest mistake of their lives thing is really cutting in on my sex life. I say we skip the wedding."
"We can't. Our daughter is a flower girl."
"So is Jenny. How many fucking flowers do they need thrown down the aisle anyway?"
"While you're as persuasive as ever, we're still going." Justin leans in a little, kissing his neck before moving to his ear. "But if you promise to be on your best behavior, I'll ride your cock tonight."
He groans at the mental image of that and wonders how fast they'll be able to get the kid to bed in her adjoining room. If they limit her sugar and encourage her to dance a lot, she'll be asleep before her head hits the pillow, no doubt.
"I'll hold you to it."
"You won't have to, but feel free to restrain me in any way you see fit, Mr. Kinney."
"Justin, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to have your ass on the kitchen table right now."
"We don't have time," Justin says, shifting from sexy to flustered in a split second. He turns back to the counter, inspecting the contents. "I feel like I'm forgetting something."
Brian pours some of his abandoned guava juice into a glass, slipping the container back into the fridge as he sips. Glancing to Justin's little work area, Brian considers what might be missing since the last thing he wants to do is stop at the goddamn store on the way to Emmett's wedding.
"Juice boxes?" Brian offers.
"Packed them."
"Those wet wipes for her hands?"
Justin chews on his thumbnail, deep in thought. "No, I have those."
"Condoms?"
"In our bags upstairs. You know I don't keep them in Eli's bag anymore. Not after that one time."
"Goldfish crackers?"
"Fuck! I forgot them. Elise would have been inconsolable the whole trip."
Yeah, most likely. For whatever reason, the kid keeps going through snack phases, and whenever they don't have said snack-of-the-week on hand, Eli turns on the waterworks. She's a real drama princess in training, but at least she gets it honest.
"I thought you said she'd grow out of the Terrible Twos," Brian mutters, searching through the cupboard for one of their fruit bars for breakfast.
"She did. And right into the Troublesome Threes. Next is the Fearsome Fours."
Brian's pretty sure Justin's just making this up as he goes along. However, it's not altogether inaccurate. When he signed up for this whole full-time fatherhood thing, he didn't know that he would be parenting a mini-monster. She was perfectly fine for the first year, all quiet and easy-to-please. Brian's pretty sure that's what lulled him-and all parents, really-into a false sense of security. But then her second birthday came around and fuck. Nowadays she's a pretty little nightmare.
"So when do you think she'll be tolerable again?"
Justin smirks. "Aside from those few, fleeting moments once or twice a week? I imagine when she's about…thirty, give or take. You're not regretting this, are you?"
As if somehow on cue, Brian hears Eli coming down the hallway. He seriously starts to consider Justin's question when the kid shows up in the doorway, stripped down to her underwear with shaving cream on her face and a pair of vibrantly yellow and pink bumblebee slippers on her feet. Does he regret this? Does he regret making her a Kinney-well, a Taylor-Kinney? Brian expects the natural response to be a resounding yes, so he's surprised when it doesn't come. He feels frustrated and amused and a little crazy, but he definitely doesn't feel regret.
"My shoes is all gone," she announces gravely.
"Elise!" Justin groans, definitely frustrated. "Why are you naked? Daddy just dressed you."
"I think it's pretty obvious, Sunshine. She's a little exhibitionist in training."
"Score one for nurture then," Justin says pointedly.
"I got bees." Elise lifts her left foot and wiggles it for them, nearly falling over in the process. "Bees is lellow."
"You can't wear those to Uncle Em's wedding, Eli," Justin says, dropping to his knees in front of her in order to take off the slippers. "And why is there shaving cream all over your face?"
"I'm shaving like a daddy."
"Daddys are boys. You're a little girl, and little girls don't shave."
"Yeah, I know," Elise says. "I'm shaving."
"No, Elise," Justin corrects. "You-"
"You have to wait until you're five to shave, Eli," Brian says, figuring everyone would have much less of a headache if they skipped the lecture on the physiological differences between the sexes; he really fucking wonders what goes through Justin's head half the time.
"Oh." She smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand-something she must have caught on TV-and then giggles. "Oops, I'm so silly."
"Very silly," Justin agrees, picking her up and settling her on his hip. "Brian, would you mind taking her so I can finish this up, please?"
Glancing between his half-eaten fruit bar and his half-naked child, Brian seriously starts to consider how the hell he got talked into this life.
~*~*~*~
"I don't like it," Elise says, scrunching her toes up as Brian tries to slip on her shoes.
As she sits on her bed, Brian glances up from where he kneels in front of her. His expression is all hard, all like-I-give-a-shit. He doesn't say it, of course, because all the kid does now is repeat after them. She'd told Justin a couple weeks ago that they'd spent the afternoon cruising tricks at the park on Liberty. And needless to say, Brian doesn't need an encore performance of Justin's you-cannot-use-our-child-to-pick-up-men-you-irresponsible-asshole speech. Not that he doesn't know it by heart already. So, he watches what he says a little more closely now that they have a fucking parrot in the family.
And as for Elise not liking it? Well, color him surprised. As if her not-so-subtly hiding every shoe she owns all over the upstairs to avoid wearing real shoes wasn't a big enough clue. It took him ten minutes to find a mate to her tennis shoes alone before Justin interrupted saying that he'd rather her wear her sandals to the venue because it was supposed to be hot today. Brian thinks he'll refrain from telling Justin that Elise stashed one sandal in their sex toy drawer and hope she'll forget coming across it.
"Well I don't like the way you're making this pretty damn impossible, kiddo. You have to wear these shoes until we get to the wedding."
She sticks out her lip, pouting. "I has bees."
"You can't wear the bees. They're for inside only." He can already see her ready to counter his point, so he adds, "If you show up in slippers, everyone will laugh at you."
"Nuh-uh. Bees is pretty. Grammy likes bees. I wear the bees." She lifts her foot-nearly kicking Brian's face in the process-and wiggles it. "On my toes."
"Not today."
"Yeah, to the party. I going with the bees." Elise points to her foot. "On my toes. Right now, Daddy."
Maybe science hasn't found it yet, but there has got to be a fucking gene that codes for bossiness. She's just like Justin in that regard. Yeah, alright, she may get her control-freak tendencies from him, but he has nothing to do with this. Justin earns another point for her attitude in their endless nurture-nature debate.
"What was that?" he asks, tone warning.
"Magic words is pwease." She very carefully, very slowly bats her blue eyes at him. "Pwease?"
The fact that she still doesn't get the difference between batting her eyes and blinking really slowly to try to sweeten them up may be the cutest fucking thing ever. He'd never thought he'd actually live to see the day when he considered anything to be cute, but his kids are living proof that such a thing exists.
Cute or otherwise, he still doesn't know how to deal with her this morning. She's as trying as she's been since the day of her second birthday-fuck two-year-olds-so Brian figures he must have woke up wrong this morning.
It doesn't help that they're going to a wedding and that he'll be subjected to displays of romance and affection for the next twelve goddamn hours. Or that there'll be cake that Justin will force feed him, which he'll have to spend hours trying to work off. Or that Justin will get caught up in all the bullshit, and Brian will spend the rest of the night fearing Justin will want to talk about commitment and monogamy.
Fuck. Weddings.
And fuck little kid shoes that are fucking puzzle boxes and refuse to go on said little kid's fucking foot if the stars don't magically align and heavens fail to part.
"Justin!" Brian shouts towards the hallway. "Your daughter is being insufferable!"
He hears Justin's Brian, which sounds a lot like it does when Justin just needs ten fucking minutes to myself, please after a trying day with Eli. Sometimes Justin acts like he has two toddlers in the house-he may have said as much once or twice-instead of one. Brian resents that because he helps out more than a lot of fathers, his own and Justin's being prime examples. Just, he's at his wit's end and might smother her with a pillow if he doesn't get ten goddamn minutes to himself. Well, not really-he thinks he sort of loves her-but still.
Despite being put out, Justin appears in the doorway. He's nearly dressed-just missing his pants-with a toothbrush in his mouth. Brian thinks he looks hot, feels that familiar twitch of his cock, and realizes that this is what sort-of-commitment does to a man.
"What? Why is she my daughter?" he asks around the toothbrush.
"Because only something with your genes could drive me out of my mind like this."
As Justin smiles, Brian stands up. Elise makes a grab to try and tickle him-fuck Justin for telling her he's ticklish-but he evades her, snatching up her stuffed kangaroo in the process. He tosses it lightly at her head, and she erupts into a fit of giggles. It's a nice sound, one that Brian stops and takes the time to cherish if only because there was a stark absence of it in his own childhood. Her laughter tells him everything he needs to know about fatherhood-she's happy, healthy, and he hasn't failed her yet.
As he attempts to slip out of the room and leave the little imp to Justin's care, Justin stops him with an arm around the waist. The close contact doesn't do much to deter Brian's desire; he'd love to shut them both up in the bathroom for a quick fuck. Justin won't have it though. Still, Justin standing on his toes to kiss him quietly is nice, especially when there's a little tongue involved. Brian finds himself winding around Justin almost unconsciously. Justin pulls back a little, offering him that famous smile.
"She's half yours now, stud."
"Yeah, ask me again if I regret it."
"Do you regret it?" Justin asks, sobering a little.
Brian watches as Justin's expression shifts from interested to concerned to worried. And maybe Brian lets the question linger a bit just to be a shit. When Justin's bordering on panicked, Brian bumps their noses together, then brings his lips to Justin's softly.
"Not a second."
~*~*~*~
This is torture, Brian's sure. As much as he may love them, hour long trips with a living, breathing public service announcement and a three-year-old snack fiend is sometimes enough to make him want to drive off a fucking cliff. Carefully, Brian sips his Caffé Latte-God bless whoever-the-fuck came up with Starbucks-and tries to tune out the sound of Justin arguing about the nutritional merits (or lack thereof) of Goldfish Crackers with their daughter.
So far, Brian figures that Justin obviously has the better argument, but Elise's fuck-all sort of trumps whatever logic Justin is spouting off. If Justin doesn't want the kid to have any more crackers, the best way to fix the whole thing is to just lie about packing them. She'll throw a fit for a minute or two, maybe work up some fake tears, but in the end she'll still take the apples. Brian ought to know; he's survived this meeting of the minds more than once.
When Justin finally settles and splits her snack fifty-fifty, Brian assumes that the worst of it is over. He and Justin share a look, something akin to we desperately need some time to ourselves. Taking the latte from Brian's hand, Justin drinks for a little caffeine pick-me-up, no doubt, before grimacing like he always does and handing it back.
"That tastes terrible."
Brian sips. "To uncultured taste buds, maybe."
"You do know that has seven grams of fat in it, right?"
"No, it would have had seven grams of fat if I hadn't ordered it with non-fat milk."
"It's still not good for you," Justin says, shooting him a look.
"Well, Sunshine, when my performance starts to suffer, we'll talk about cutting back. Until then, I'd like to enjoy my latte sans annoying commentary."
"Who says your performance isn't suffering already?"
Brian clears his throat. "Oh, Brian," he begins in a falsetto, "fuck me harder with your glorious, nine-inch co-"
"Brian!" Justin warns, glancing back to check on Elise.
Brian does as well, but sees that she is far too preoccupied with inspecting her apple slices to pay them any attention. He shrugs, turning back to Justin. No harm, no foul.
"I do not say shit like that," Justin whispers harshly.
"I may have taken a few artistic liberties."
"More than a few." Justin bends down and begins to dig through a bag between his feet. "And I do not sound like a girl."
Elise's head pops up from her inspection. "I'm a girl!"
"Well deduced, Nancy Drew."
"Huh?" she asks, nose wrinkled up.
"Spare her the snarky responses littered with pop culture references until she's at least a little older, will you?" Justin begs, weary.
"Mommies is girls. I got a mommy."
Justin pulls out the camera bag from the other bag and then turns to look back at her. "Yes, you do."
"She gonna come back now?"
Brian doesn't like how quiet her voice gets, how uncertain. It's been a few months since Delaney's come to visit, and most of the time Brian thinks that the longer the time between visits, the better. Except, Eli isn't so little anymore that she doesn't notice her mother's absence. He thinks she'd be better off with Delaney completely out of their lives, but Justin won't have it. Maybe it'll get better when Elise is a little older and can better understand the situation. Until then, though, Brian has to deal with his kid's sad faces and uncomfortable questions.
"Probably soon, Eli. She's busy with work, but I know she misses you a lot."
"Yeah. I'm so cute." Elise sighs and then goes back to scrutinizing the apples. "These is ucky, Daddy."
"Oh don't give me that. You fu-you love apples."
Brian smirks, eyes never straying from the road. Watching Eli drive Justin out of his fucking mind to the point where he's almost swearing in front of her is, admittedly, one of Brian's favorite pastimes. Second only to nailing Justin's pretty little ass.
"Nuh-uh."
"Elise."
"They is the most uckiest," she says with this small, wicked smile.
While he's not sure if three year olds are capable of intentionally antagonizing their elders, Brian's pretty fucking sure that's what she's doing. He swells with pride, self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. The kid is pretty fucking amazing, despite her many shortcomings. Well, as long as he isn't on the receiving end of her arguing. It's just goddamn insufferable then.
"Brian," Justin prompts.
"What? Don't put me in the middle of this meeting of the minds. I'm just the driver, which relieves me of any and all parenting responsibilities while your ass is in the car."
"Those rules need revising. She's beyond dropping sippy cups and requiring Cheerios now."
"The fuck they do," Brian says, indignant.
Justin's expression turns admonishing. "Don't swear in front of her. If she starts, it'll take days to get her to stop."
"For Christ's sake, it just slipped."
"Daddy!" Elise kicks the back of Brian's seat much to his annoyance, signaling to him that he's the daddy in question. "We gotta go there."
Looking out the window, Brian sees a cluster of gas stations and hotels off the exit ramp along with a Taco Bell. It's pretty fucking obvious what she's referring to, and there's no goddamn way they're driving through that shitty restaurant-a very generous title at that-at ten in the morning. Or ever.
"Not happening, kid."
"Why?"
"Because Daddy," He points to Justin, "won't allow it."
"Why are you putting this on me?"
"Well you won't."
"That's beside the point!"
"Chris sakes!" Elise shouts, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "I want fucker taco! Pretty pwease!"
This, Brian thinks, is exactly why he and Justin shouldn't have had kids. Justin's so obviously mortified at what she's said that it's laughable. And pretty fucking pissed, too. Brian's not sure that he's getting laid anytime in the next week at the very least. And as for him, he's mostly amused by it. He knows he ought to be admonishing her right now, but he isn't so caught up in fatherhood that he's beyond enjoying her colorful language. Besides, Justin is the responsible parent; he'll take care of it and make sure she feels plenty guilty.
By the time Justin finishes his twenty minute calmly worded tirade on why-we-don't-use-that-kind-of-language-Elise, Brian wishes he would have been the one to correct her. It's not as if she's going to listen anyway. For the most part, he likes to avoid Eli's punishments, always claiming that it's he's the fun daddy rather than reveal the real reason behind his aversion.
There's no doubt in his mind that despite everything-reservations, fears, limitations-he loves his kids and would never do anything to hurt either of them. The idea of being the disciplinarian, though, scares the ever loving shit out of him for reasons that are probably really fucking obvious. He never wants Gus or Eli to experience even an ounce of the fear his father instilled in him.
They fall into silence for the last twenty minutes of the trip-Elise seething quietly in the back, shooting Justin dirty looks and munching on her apples finally, and Justin messing with the new camera. Brian has no doubt that Eli will let her grudges go by the time they arrive at the wedding venue. Justin, however, may be a different story. This fiasco on top of their rough morning is enough to put him in a bad mood all day. Brian doesn't want to deal with a pissy Justin on top of a wedding, so he reaches across the center console of the Jeep and takes Justin's hand.
Hazel eyes move to look back at the kid, and seeing that she's occupied, Brian says softly, "Don't be a shit."
"I'm not."
"You are. I'm going to have to fuck that frown right off your face."
Justin's expression softens, and Brian even earns a tiny smile. "It's been a long day."
"And it's not even noon."
"I don't think I should have gotten out of bed this morning."
"You just need some time off."
Raising a kid and having a full time career isn't exactly a walk in the park, especially when said kid is too smart for her own good. While Brian never really noticed it before now, Justin does look a little tired today. He knows he doesn't help out enough with her, but finding the time while running multiple Kinnetik offices is difficult in itself. They're both juggling too many things at once. Brian figures that once this whole wedding bullshit is over with they probably should sit down and try to work their schedules out. This chaos cannot fucking continue.
"I also think that we ought to make a note of today and file it under Why Even Considering Another Kid is the Stupidest Idea Justin's Come Up with To Fucking Date," Brian says.
"You'll put anything in that file."
"Because you won't see reason. I'm just hoping something I say will get through to you before you do something drastic. Or worse-cliché."
"Oh, whatever, Brian."
"It's all Daphne's fault. Getting your ovaries all aflutter with her big announcement."
Brian knew he was in trouble the moment he came back from Babylon one night and found Justin sifting through Eli's baby pictures. Daphne had told them not a week before that she was knocked up-Brian's phrasing, not hers-and due next year. Justin had been strangely quiet about it, but Brian could see the conversation coming a mile away. He'd promptly put his foot down the moment Justin brought it up. Not that that had ever done anything to deter Justin.
"You're right."
Brian frowns. "It's no fun if you're not going to put up a fight. It takes the satisfaction out of being told I'm right."
"I'm so sorry to disappoint you," Justin says, glancing over at him half-amused.
"We should do something."
"What do you have in mind?"
"An extended childless vacation for two on some sandy, nude beach surrounded by beautiful men. Preferably on another continent."
"You're terrible." Still, Justin smiles. "Do I have any more options?"
"Yeah, we pawn her off on your mom for a few days and collect our sanity."
~*~*~*~
He holds the valet's attention-hazel eyes glossed with desire, smirk practically begging the young man to ask for it-as he shoves a very generous tip into his hand along with the car keys. The guy doesn't seem to register that, in effect, they're done here. And Brian doesn't particularly mind that he's a little awestruck.
Justin always tells him that he can still turn every head on Liberty Avenue, but Brian still relishes baiting some fresh meat. This one is definitely his type, he realizes, wetting his lips just so. Not his one-and-done type, but the sort he likes for a few hours-dark hair, dark eyes, and bronze skin. He looks just a little younger than Justin, which makes it all the sweeter. However, Justin never seemed so scared by his own desire.
"Brian, knock it off!" Justin shouts from the curb, not in jealousy so much as in annoyance.
He nods to Justin before turning back to the valet. "The ball-and-chain beckons."
"I-uh…get off at eight," he says timidly.
"Do you now?" Brian asks, purposefully playing with the valet's words.
The guy's gaze moves briefly to Justin. "If you can ditch him."
"Oh, him?" Brian chuckles. "Him, I don't ditch."
"Bri-an!" Justin draws his name out this time just like he does when he's angry with Elise. "If you keep getting your ego stroked, your head isn't going to fit through the door. Tell the nice young man good-bye and move it."
"I love it when you get bossy, Sunshine!"
Brian moves past the valet without so much as another look and joins Justin on the curb. Justin hands over one of their bags before starting towards Eli, who stares at the revolving door of the hotel like it's a death trap. Snagging him by his dinner jacket, Brian pulls Justin back for a quick peck to the lips.
"He was hot."
"And you're incorrigible," Justin says.
"Doesn't change the fact that he was hot." His tongue finds its way into his cheek, brow raised. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have picked him up."
"He's not my type. I'm more into middle aged men graying around the temples," Justin explains, walking away.
"You little shit! I am not graying."
Justin turns around. "Maybe not yet, but give it a couple more years, stud."
Years ago, Brian would have tossed Justin out of the Loft for talk like that, back when Sunshine wasn't so much Sunshine as he was a teen stalker with one hell of an ass. He'd let Justin come back around eventually, but a point had to be made first. Now the jabs about his age don't bother him as much. Maybe he's succumbed to the inevitability of it, or maybe it has something to do with settling down a little with Justin.
But just because they don't irritate him quite like they used to doesn't mean Justin isn't going to have a sore ass in the morning for the comment.
Since Justin's loaded down with the kid's stuff, Brian scoops her up with his free hand. She starts freaking the fuck out the moment he moves towards the revolving door, wiggling and pushing against his shoulder to get out of his grasp. He can't say that he's completely surprised; Elise hates closed in spaces.
"I don't wanna!" she shouts, fat tears in her eyes. "It's scary!"
He puts her down-it'll be easier this way anyway-and moves towards the right. "Alright, fine. We'll take the other door."
That's the thing about being a sort of family man-Brian learned a year into this thing with Justin that a man has to pick his battles. Real fucking carefully. He never used to care about that before. Justin would deal or could take a goddamn hike for all he cared. Love isn't supposed to be about sacrifice, and Brian sure as hell wasn't willing to be a martyr. Honestly, he still isn't. All he understands is that if shutting up about or compromising on certain things keeps him and Justin together then so be it. Justin's worth the agony of family dinners and vacations, potty training and browsing paint samples.
"Can I see Grammy?" Eli asks, tugging on Brian's hand as he leads her through the door.
"I don't know if she's here yet, kid."
"She is," Justin says as he heads towards the front desk. "She sent me a text when we were getting off I-79."
Brian stops. "Wait, your mother texts?"
"It's the only way she can get in touch with Molly. A lesson learned out of desperation only, I'm sure. Why don't you wait here while I check us in? Oh, and see if Eli needs to go to the bathroom."
"We stopped at that shitty McDonalds in Grove City half an hour ago."
"Hey, if you want to be the one to rush around here looking for a bathroom in ten minutes, that's fine with me. You know how she is."
Brian eyes her. Yeah, he knows how she is. For whatever reason-Brian figures it has something to do with the lingering Terrible Twos-Elise doesn't feel compelled to tell them when she has to go until she's at the point where she has to go Now-with-a-capital-N.
"Do you have to go to the bathroom, Eli?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
She looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Yeah."
He doesn't believe her for a second. Brian's been at the receiving end of that same damn look for a lot longer than she's been around-same supposed innocence, same blue eyes. At this point he knows better than to fucking fall for it.
"Come on, we're going."
"Daddy," she whines, "I don't hafta."
"You do. You just don't know it." He gives her a little tug towards the bathroom across the lobby. "March."
For one very fleeting moment, Brian thinks he's won this battle. Then he sees Eli point to one of the hallways and start doing that little hopping thing she does when she's excited. Glancing over, he spots Deb and Carl and relinquishes hold of her hand, letting her tear a path towards them as he follows dutifully behind.
"Gramma! Gramma! I'm here now!"
"There you are, my little Elise." Deb picks her up and kisses her, smearing bright red lipstick all over her cheek. "And look what you dragged in with you."
"Very funny," Brian says.
"How was the drive, son?" Carl asks, using that fatherly tone that he does with all of them, though Brian's never figured out if he loves it or hates it.
"Have you ever spent an hour in the car with Justin and Elise?"
"Can't say that I have."
Brian smiles. "It's a special kind of hell."
"Daddy isn't being very nice now, is he?" Deb says, giving him a strong piece of her mind with her eye contact alone.
Eli's lip juts out. "I'm so hungry. But Daddy say no Taco Bell! Never ever!"
"You can't even get this poor child a goddamn taco, Brian Kinney? She's skin and bones as it is."
"Yeah, Biam Kimmey," Elise says, scowling.
Brian frowns. "Hey, that's Daddy to you."
He can't believe he just said that. Sure, he can think of a couple scenarios in which he's said something similar in the past, but they were never in that fucking context. Shit. A couple years ago, Brian figured he'd never get used to the full-time fatherhood thing and was definitely leery about letting all of Liberty Avenue know about it. And now he's demanding it like it's his God-given right. What is this fucking world coming to?
Deb looks to Elise. "Lucky for you I packed all kinds of food. What do you say we go upstairs and find you a PB&J, sweetie? And then we'll get you into your pretty dress for the wedding."
"If you don't mind, Brian," Carl adds, always trying to soften Deb's brashness.
"Be my guest. And if you want to keep her for, say, a whole week, I'm sure we could come to some sort of amenable arrangement."
Deb cracks her gum. "Nice try."
As soon as Brian can send them on their way, he heads towards Justin, who is still at the front desk. Initially, Brian thinks someone fucked up their reservations and is ready to tear into said someone-there is no way in fucking hell he is going to drive back to Pittsburgh tonight-but then he realizes that that's not it at all. Justin's only at the desk still because the concierge wants nothing more than to fuck or be fucked by Justin, if the guy's body language is anything to go by.
He stands back, observing for a few seconds. Then Justin notices him and smiles, brow raised. So this is payback for the valet, is it? Brian shakes his head. While it's good they've moved beyond the point that tricking or flirting with some guy causes any problems between them, Brian wants Justin to himself for awhile. He shares 24/7, and his shitty sister can attest to the fact that he does not play well with others for long periods of time.
"Where's Elise?" Justin asks when he finally ditches the blond behind the desk.
"With Deb."
Justin gets much closer now, enthusiasm apparent in his eyes. Brian wants nothing more than to reach out and close what little distance is left between them, but he resists. At least for the moment.
"We're baby-less?"
Brian nods. "We're baby-less."
"For how long?"
"Thirty minutes?"
"How many times do you think you can make me cum in thirty minutes?"
While he knew exactly what was going through Justin's mind, Brian still laughs when he says it. Laughs, leans down, and captures Justin's lips. Justin makes that little hum noise he always does when he's getting hard, signaling to Brian that it's very much time that they check out their suite.
"I like the way you think, Taylor."
Continue
A/N: I hope to have the conclusion to this fic up next week. And, I hope you're enjoying it so far. :)