The Kinney Cure (PG-13; Brian/Justin)
Title: The Kinney Cure
Author: Etharei
Fandom: Queer as Folk (US)
Characters: Brian/Justin, Debbie Novotny, Vic Grassi
Timeline: mid-S1
Rating: hard PG-13
Summary: Justin is sick, and thinks that Brian wouldn't want to go near him.
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Author's Notes: Written for dear severina2001, who was ill at the time of writing.
“Wait up!” Daphne cheerily called as she bounded down the path. “You’re in a hurry to get home. Are you going to see Brian tonight?”
I shook my head, absently swiping the bottom of my nose with the back of my hand. “Can’t,” I answered, hoping that my expression was as miserable as I felt. “I’ve still got a cold.”
“So?”
I looked at her incredulously. “Hello? My throat itches, I feel like I’m made of snot, and my nose is as red as fucking Rudolph’s. Totally not sexy.”
She shrugged. “I bet he wouldn’t care.”
I chuckled, despite myself. “Daph, we’re talking about the same Brian, right? Tall, rich, unbelievably hot? Can get any guy he wants, straight, gay or undecided?”
“Yes. The same one who’s got it bad for you.”
Well, yeah. “But I don’t think we’re anywhere near the point where’d he’d willingly come into contact with my germs and non-seminal bodily fluids.”
“I’m just saying, it’s not like he’s nine and will run away yelling ‘Cooties!’.”
I snorted at the image. At nine Brian was probably swiping magazines and staring at pictures of beautiful men under a flashlight. I tactfully changed the topic to September’s rumored crush on Billy Houser.
#
I was finishing a tuna wrap that Debbie had made for me- she seemed to think that sick people required twice the amount of food healthy people did- when there was a knock on the front door. Debbie and Vic were busy raking at the back (that is, they’re cleaning up the mess after an hour of flinging dead leaves at one another), so I stuffed the last of the wrap into my mouth and padded to the door.
I opened it, and was saved from making an undignified squeak by my mouth being full when I saw that it was Brian. He looked at me, eyes more intent than usual. Then again, it was early and he probably hadn’t drunk anything yet.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted me with his usual smarmy smile. “Mikey asked me to drop these off,” he indicated a plastic bag swinging from his hand. “Some gaudy ceramic shit he and the good doctor got as a gift and didn’t want.”
Still chewing, I made a vague “Mmmfff” sound to convey that I’d tell Deb he’d been by and made sure she got the items, whatever they are, and took the bag inside. I fully expected him to mutter his usual “Later” and leave the moment I freed him of his burden, and when I heard the door close I felt a little prick of annoyance that he hadn’t even said a word.
Then I heard footsteps following me to the kitchen, and it was lucky indeed that my mouth was occupied because otherwise I’d have broken into a smile. I set the heavy bag on the table and paused for a moment before turning around. Brian walked into the dining area looking a little unsure, as if he hadn’t been visiting Michael’s house for as long as I’ve been alive.
His eyes settled back on me. “Had a busy weekend?”
I tried really, really hard not to look too excited about the fact that he’d noticed I hadn’t been around the past couple of days. I swallowed the last of my wrap. “You could say that.” I sniffed. “Got a cold from my allergies.”
“Oh.” Could there, in some microscopic scale undetectable by the naked eye, have been the teeniest relaxing of Brian’s frame?
“Yeah.” I felt a dab of wetness on the corner of my bottom lip and absently wiped it off with my thumb. “The body heals more quickly if it gets a lot of rest and fluids and isn’t subjected to a stressful environment, like the cold weather.” At least, that was what I’d intended to say. But Brian’s eyes suddenly sharpened, focused, and I could literally feel his gaze zooming in on my thumb as I licked the bit of mayonnaise off it.
By the time I (might have) finished my (possibly non-existent) statement on self-healthcare, Brian was standing right in front of me. I tipped my head back a little to look at him; his face was an inch away from mine, his breath feeling pleasantly warm as it ghosted over the aggravated skin below my nose. My lips parted. Because of my semi-blocked nose obstructing my breathing, of course. Nothing at all to do with how close he was, how small the distance measured between those beautiful lips and mine.
It’s ridiculous, really. I shouldn’t have been able to smell him, his unique musk and expensive cologne, when I could barely breathe through my nose. Only the day before I’d barely had enough energy to leave my bed, and there I was getting hard just from the heat of his body. A shudder passed through me, and at that point I wouldn’t have believed myself if I claimed it to be weakness from my cold.
His eyes were on my lips, between them where the tip of my tongue was peeking out. I felt dizzy, probably from all the blood being redirected to my hardening dick away from such minor organs as my brain and lungs. The moment of stillness seemed to stretch into eternity; he had a habit of pausing right before kissing me, as if he wanted me to wonder if he’s really going to do it.
Like he’d ever successfully resisted.
And then his tongue was in my mouth, inside me, and though I had yet to figure out how I was actually going to breathe with both nose and mouth occupied, my (seventeen-year-old) body flared with all the horniness that had built up over the weekend, because once a part of him was inside me he seemed unable to resist sticking other bits of his anatomy inside me too.
I whimpered, moaned, felt his hair sliding between my fingers even though I couldn’t remember grabbing them, couldn’t really register anything outside of the wet heated contact of our mouths. He pulled me flush against him, and my dick felt like bursting just from the familiar feel of his (fuckingorgeous) body. The fact that I could feel the heated rock in the crotch of his tight jeans, so tight I could tell he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, didn’t help; one rub against the prominent bulge and I felt an embarrassing dampness in my cargoes.
Overwhelmed as I always was when with him, it took a few minutes of continued consciousness for me to realize that he was very considerately breaking up the tongue-play with gaps that allowed me to gulp in air. Short surgical attacks rather than a prolonged siege, as it were. Open-mouthed kisses could be held for longer, but the both of us had this thing for trying to reach as far down each other’s mouths, throats, as far into each other, as possible.
And everyone wondered why I was convinced that Brian wanted me.
I couldn’t remember moving, only felt my back hit the wall. We stopped, both of us breathing hard, me slightly trembling. He had one hand on my ass and the other on the back of my neck; his eyes were dark and a little unfocused, but at the same he looked like he wanted to swallow me whole with his gaze alone.
We started kissing again, fast and desperate and hot. He pushed in a knee between my legs, rubbed his crotch against mine, and my hands clung to his shoulders, fingers curling around black silk. Both our faces were warm and wet; I did my best to think about the moisture on mine being saliva rather than my nose running. On the other hand, it didn’t seem like he cared.
His mouth slid to my ear, teeth scraping at the fleshy lobe as his tongue stroked the inner shell; at the same time, his hand slid into my pants, led by a finger that dipped into my crack.
Of course, it was exactly then that Vic and Debbie came back in from the back yard. Brian and I didn’t stop, barely acknowledged it when their joking banter turned into exasperated exclamations.
“Christ, you two!” I vaguely heard Debbie saying, though I was far more interested in what Brian was doing to the sensitive skin beneath my ear. “Is it too much to ask for you two to make the long, arduous walk upstairs to Justin’s room?”
Brian and I didn’t pay her any attention. Which, I would justify to myself later, was kind of the answer, really. Debbie apparently came to that conclusion, and proceeded to smack the both of us on the head. We’ve both been hit harder, but we stopped and looked at her, a little dazedly. Brian’s hand remained on my ass, though, his finger brushing softly over my opening and the little hairs around it.
“Upstairs.” She said slowly, pointing to said direction. “Sunshine’s room. Lock the door. Then, Brian, you’ll be able to get your dick into Justin’s ass. I know your brains are not in your skulls at the moment, but those instructions should be easy enough to understand.” She waggled a finger at us. I tried not to jump when Brian’s wiggled his finger on my hole, the tip of it pushing just slightly inside. “Don’t make me ask Vic to get out his whip.”
“Is that old thing still lying around?” Vic called from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Debbie snapped her gum. “It’s in the attic somewhere. Probably in that box labeled ‘Old Toys’.”
I loved Vic, but I couldn’t help wondering how old some of those ‘toys’ must be, and made a face. Debbie saw it and rolled her eyes. “Upstairs. Now.”
“Far be it from me to pass up an opportunity to fuck,” Brian said dryly, grinning. “You two might want to wear some earplugs, though; for an allergy-ridden adolescent, Justin’s got a pretty strong set of lungs.”
I thought I could see the redness glowing off my cheek. I bit my lip when Brian gave me a hearty pinch on the other set of cheeks; the crazy thought passed my hazy mind that his occasional anal retentiveness with symmetry compelled him to give me a matched pair.
Deb chuckled. “I noticed. As much as I love my son, I don’t think these walls have seen so much action since Vic left home after college.”
Brian took his hand out of my pants, gripped my wrist hard and pulled me up the stairs. I grinned sheepishly at Debbie, and her booming chuckles followed us up until it was cut off by the shutting my bedroom door.
Author: Etharei
Fandom: Queer as Folk (US)
Characters: Brian/Justin, Debbie Novotny, Vic Grassi
Timeline: mid-S1
Rating: hard PG-13
Summary: Justin is sick, and thinks that Brian wouldn't want to go near him.
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Author's Notes: Written for dear severina2001, who was ill at the time of writing.
“Wait up!” Daphne cheerily called as she bounded down the path. “You’re in a hurry to get home. Are you going to see Brian tonight?”
I shook my head, absently swiping the bottom of my nose with the back of my hand. “Can’t,” I answered, hoping that my expression was as miserable as I felt. “I’ve still got a cold.”
“So?”
I looked at her incredulously. “Hello? My throat itches, I feel like I’m made of snot, and my nose is as red as fucking Rudolph’s. Totally not sexy.”
She shrugged. “I bet he wouldn’t care.”
I chuckled, despite myself. “Daph, we’re talking about the same Brian, right? Tall, rich, unbelievably hot? Can get any guy he wants, straight, gay or undecided?”
“Yes. The same one who’s got it bad for you.”
Well, yeah. “But I don’t think we’re anywhere near the point where’d he’d willingly come into contact with my germs and non-seminal bodily fluids.”
“I’m just saying, it’s not like he’s nine and will run away yelling ‘Cooties!’.”
I snorted at the image. At nine Brian was probably swiping magazines and staring at pictures of beautiful men under a flashlight. I tactfully changed the topic to September’s rumored crush on Billy Houser.
#
I was finishing a tuna wrap that Debbie had made for me- she seemed to think that sick people required twice the amount of food healthy people did- when there was a knock on the front door. Debbie and Vic were busy raking at the back (that is, they’re cleaning up the mess after an hour of flinging dead leaves at one another), so I stuffed the last of the wrap into my mouth and padded to the door.
I opened it, and was saved from making an undignified squeak by my mouth being full when I saw that it was Brian. He looked at me, eyes more intent than usual. Then again, it was early and he probably hadn’t drunk anything yet.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted me with his usual smarmy smile. “Mikey asked me to drop these off,” he indicated a plastic bag swinging from his hand. “Some gaudy ceramic shit he and the good doctor got as a gift and didn’t want.”
Still chewing, I made a vague “Mmmfff” sound to convey that I’d tell Deb he’d been by and made sure she got the items, whatever they are, and took the bag inside. I fully expected him to mutter his usual “Later” and leave the moment I freed him of his burden, and when I heard the door close I felt a little prick of annoyance that he hadn’t even said a word.
Then I heard footsteps following me to the kitchen, and it was lucky indeed that my mouth was occupied because otherwise I’d have broken into a smile. I set the heavy bag on the table and paused for a moment before turning around. Brian walked into the dining area looking a little unsure, as if he hadn’t been visiting Michael’s house for as long as I’ve been alive.
His eyes settled back on me. “Had a busy weekend?”
I tried really, really hard not to look too excited about the fact that he’d noticed I hadn’t been around the past couple of days. I swallowed the last of my wrap. “You could say that.” I sniffed. “Got a cold from my allergies.”
“Oh.” Could there, in some microscopic scale undetectable by the naked eye, have been the teeniest relaxing of Brian’s frame?
“Yeah.” I felt a dab of wetness on the corner of my bottom lip and absently wiped it off with my thumb. “The body heals more quickly if it gets a lot of rest and fluids and isn’t subjected to a stressful environment, like the cold weather.” At least, that was what I’d intended to say. But Brian’s eyes suddenly sharpened, focused, and I could literally feel his gaze zooming in on my thumb as I licked the bit of mayonnaise off it.
By the time I (might have) finished my (possibly non-existent) statement on self-healthcare, Brian was standing right in front of me. I tipped my head back a little to look at him; his face was an inch away from mine, his breath feeling pleasantly warm as it ghosted over the aggravated skin below my nose. My lips parted. Because of my semi-blocked nose obstructing my breathing, of course. Nothing at all to do with how close he was, how small the distance measured between those beautiful lips and mine.
It’s ridiculous, really. I shouldn’t have been able to smell him, his unique musk and expensive cologne, when I could barely breathe through my nose. Only the day before I’d barely had enough energy to leave my bed, and there I was getting hard just from the heat of his body. A shudder passed through me, and at that point I wouldn’t have believed myself if I claimed it to be weakness from my cold.
His eyes were on my lips, between them where the tip of my tongue was peeking out. I felt dizzy, probably from all the blood being redirected to my hardening dick away from such minor organs as my brain and lungs. The moment of stillness seemed to stretch into eternity; he had a habit of pausing right before kissing me, as if he wanted me to wonder if he’s really going to do it.
Like he’d ever successfully resisted.
And then his tongue was in my mouth, inside me, and though I had yet to figure out how I was actually going to breathe with both nose and mouth occupied, my (seventeen-year-old) body flared with all the horniness that had built up over the weekend, because once a part of him was inside me he seemed unable to resist sticking other bits of his anatomy inside me too.
I whimpered, moaned, felt his hair sliding between my fingers even though I couldn’t remember grabbing them, couldn’t really register anything outside of the wet heated contact of our mouths. He pulled me flush against him, and my dick felt like bursting just from the familiar feel of his (fuckingorgeous) body. The fact that I could feel the heated rock in the crotch of his tight jeans, so tight I could tell he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, didn’t help; one rub against the prominent bulge and I felt an embarrassing dampness in my cargoes.
Overwhelmed as I always was when with him, it took a few minutes of continued consciousness for me to realize that he was very considerately breaking up the tongue-play with gaps that allowed me to gulp in air. Short surgical attacks rather than a prolonged siege, as it were. Open-mouthed kisses could be held for longer, but the both of us had this thing for trying to reach as far down each other’s mouths, throats, as far into each other, as possible.
And everyone wondered why I was convinced that Brian wanted me.
I couldn’t remember moving, only felt my back hit the wall. We stopped, both of us breathing hard, me slightly trembling. He had one hand on my ass and the other on the back of my neck; his eyes were dark and a little unfocused, but at the same he looked like he wanted to swallow me whole with his gaze alone.
We started kissing again, fast and desperate and hot. He pushed in a knee between my legs, rubbed his crotch against mine, and my hands clung to his shoulders, fingers curling around black silk. Both our faces were warm and wet; I did my best to think about the moisture on mine being saliva rather than my nose running. On the other hand, it didn’t seem like he cared.
His mouth slid to my ear, teeth scraping at the fleshy lobe as his tongue stroked the inner shell; at the same time, his hand slid into my pants, led by a finger that dipped into my crack.
Of course, it was exactly then that Vic and Debbie came back in from the back yard. Brian and I didn’t stop, barely acknowledged it when their joking banter turned into exasperated exclamations.
“Christ, you two!” I vaguely heard Debbie saying, though I was far more interested in what Brian was doing to the sensitive skin beneath my ear. “Is it too much to ask for you two to make the long, arduous walk upstairs to Justin’s room?”
Brian and I didn’t pay her any attention. Which, I would justify to myself later, was kind of the answer, really. Debbie apparently came to that conclusion, and proceeded to smack the both of us on the head. We’ve both been hit harder, but we stopped and looked at her, a little dazedly. Brian’s hand remained on my ass, though, his finger brushing softly over my opening and the little hairs around it.
“Upstairs.” She said slowly, pointing to said direction. “Sunshine’s room. Lock the door. Then, Brian, you’ll be able to get your dick into Justin’s ass. I know your brains are not in your skulls at the moment, but those instructions should be easy enough to understand.” She waggled a finger at us. I tried not to jump when Brian’s wiggled his finger on my hole, the tip of it pushing just slightly inside. “Don’t make me ask Vic to get out his whip.”
“Is that old thing still lying around?” Vic called from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Debbie snapped her gum. “It’s in the attic somewhere. Probably in that box labeled ‘Old Toys’.”
I loved Vic, but I couldn’t help wondering how old some of those ‘toys’ must be, and made a face. Debbie saw it and rolled her eyes. “Upstairs. Now.”
“Far be it from me to pass up an opportunity to fuck,” Brian said dryly, grinning. “You two might want to wear some earplugs, though; for an allergy-ridden adolescent, Justin’s got a pretty strong set of lungs.”
I thought I could see the redness glowing off my cheek. I bit my lip when Brian gave me a hearty pinch on the other set of cheeks; the crazy thought passed my hazy mind that his occasional anal retentiveness with symmetry compelled him to give me a matched pair.
Deb chuckled. “I noticed. As much as I love my son, I don’t think these walls have seen so much action since Vic left home after college.”
Brian took his hand out of my pants, gripped my wrist hard and pulled me up the stairs. I grinned sheepishly at Debbie, and her booming chuckles followed us up until it was cut off by the shutting my bedroom door.