FIC: B&J Bake Brownies... (NC-17)
Happy birthday burnitbackwards!! <33
In honor of burnitbackwards's very special fabulous day, I wrote food pr0n. I also blame the completely unsuspecting mcpofife, for she left me an lj comment about baking brownies with Gale Harold at exactly the wrong right time.
So here we go. Hastily edited, aka not at all, and characterization went out the window, because really, it's food pr0n, and I wrote it in a couple of hours. What characterization? (And implausible? Oh yeah.) But I hope it is enjoyable, nonetheless.
Justin slid the loft door shut with a bang, and walked over to the kitchen bar, setting his bag on top of it. He glanced over at Brian, who was facing away from him, fiddling with something on the counter. Brian hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge his existence.
“Hey,” Justin said. “What are you doing?”
Brian glanced up at him, and Justin had just enough time to be worried at his mischievous expression before Brian stuck a spoon in his face.
Justin flinched in surprise.
“Here,” said Brian, “Suck it.”
The wooden spoon in front of Justin’s nose was covered in lumpish brown goop. And it was dripping on Justin’s sneakers.
And the whole thing, the spoon, the weird Brian behavior, everything, was really the most disturbing situation Justin had ever thought he’d find himself in.
Well, not the most disturbing.
“What the fuck??” said Justin, and batted Brian’s spoon-holding hand away. “I’ve already been brained by enough wooden instruments, thanks.”
Brian glared at him for a second, then wordlessly shook his head and turned back to his bowl. Justin could finally see what he was doing, although he’d already guessed from the brown goop that either Brian had gone insane and started grinding up livestock manure as a new form of aphrodisiac, or... he was baking. Judging from the eggshells and open cardboard boxes of double-chocolate brownie mix strewn across the stove, it was the latter.
Justin had to admit, even if he had ever dreamed of this possible domestic scenario, (which okay, yeah, he had, shut up), he would never have imagined it would be Brian practicing the culinary arts. He really didn’t know how to deal with this.
“Sorry,” said Justin belatedly. “I didn’t mean that, about the ...braining me stuff. Umm.” He squeezed Brian’s arm. Brian still got a little sensitive about Justin’s head trauma humor.
Brian glanced at him. “Whatever,” he said, but his shoulders unstiffened a little.
“So, you’re baking!” Justin said brightly. “This is. Nice.”
Brian’s fingers turned white around the handle of his spoon. “Uh-huh,” he said.
“So,” said Justin again. “Why brownies? Are you off the low-carb thing?”
“No,” said Brian, and continued stirring.
“So...” Justin stared at him blankly. “Pot brownies?”
Brian shuddered. “God, no,” he said. “Although that might make Gus’s party a little easier to manage.”
The light dawned. Brian was making a batch of brownies for his son’s birthday party the next day. Justin always knew that Brian would do anything for Gus -
Wait. Justin opened his mouth, but Brian shook his head before he could say anything.
“Debbie suggested that I help out,” said Brian, guessing what Justin was going to ask. “I feared for my safety.”
“Ahh,” said Justin, “I see.” He hooked his arms around Brian’s waist and leaned his chin on Brian’s shoulder, looking down at the viscous mass in the mixing bowl.
Brian turned his head and kissed Justin on the cheek. “Mmph,” he grunted. “You showed up just in time. Get me a pan for this.”
Justin shook his head and rooted through a couple of cabinets before finding one. It was dusty, so he rinsed it off.
Brian watched him with a half-smile.
Justin raised an eyebrow. “No comments about me being a housewife. I fucking mean it.”
“Did I say a word?” Brian tugged Justin toward him until their bodies were touching, and kissed him softly. He drew back and pulled the spoon out of the bowl again, and held it up between them. “Here,” said Brian, “Seriously. Have a taste.”
Justin wrinkled his nose. “Brian,” he said patiently, “I’d love to, but there’s raw eggs in that stuff.”
“So?” said Brian.
“So if you eat raw eggs, there’s a high risk of salmonella,” said Justin. “And that would not be a fun way to go.”
Brian looked at him incredulously. “...You’ve never eaten batter,” he said flatly.
Justin sighed. “Of course not,” and he tapped on the spoon with one finger. “It’s dangerous! I never ate anything with raw eggs in it when I was little.”
“You were a deprived child,” said Brian. “A child with a very hot ass, I must say, but so deprived.”
Brian locked gazes with Justin, and very, very slowly teased his tongue up the handle of the spoon, running his mouth all over the suddenly-turned-phallic wooden shaft. He reached the end and thrust his tongue into the spoon’s indentation, getting the chocolate batter all over his lips.
Justin moistened his own lips at the sight, and pressed his crotch against Brian’s, pinning him against the counter. “Fuck, only you could make that hot,” he breathed.
Brian raised an eyebrow, took another lick of brownie mix, and kissed Justin before he could react.
“Mmm...” Justin’s lips fell open immediately, and Brian’s tongue swept into his mouth, bringing a big wad of chocolate brownie mix in with it. It was sweet and gritty, and Justin’s mind started screaming “Raw eggs! Raw eggs!” but he still tasted all of it, swallowed, and kissed Brian harder, feeling the new texture of his mouth.
He licked at Brian’s stained brown lips and felt him shudder between Justin’s hips and the edge of the counter.
Brian moaned and let the wooden spoon clatter onto the floor. He grabbed the back of Justin’s head and licked at his teeth. “Yeah. You got here just in time,” Brian panted, “Help me with this.” He grabbed Justin’s hand and shoved it between them, guiding Justin to his hardening cock.
Justin palmed his erection for a moment, then squeezed, rubbing a thumb over Brian’s jeans in what seemed like a particularly throbbing place. Brian let out a noise that Justin could never call a gasp, on pain of death, and then Brian said urgently, “Fuck, just get your fucking clothes off!”
Justin put his lips to Brian’s throat, and unzipped Brian’s jeans. He grasped smooth, sweaty cock, and felt Brian’s pubic hair brush against his fingertips. “You really just don’t believe in underwear, do you,” Justin laughed.
Brian chuckled and shook his head, and tried to get Justin’s shirt off without making Justin move his hands. It didn’t work out too well, so Justin turned loose of Brian’s dick until they managed it. Brian tossed the shirt to the side and started working on the fastening of Justin’s pants, his fingers nudging at Justin’s erection a little more than they needed to.
“Oh,” Justin said, and staggered against Brian with a sudden wave of arousal. He grabbed at the counter, and froze at the feeling of cool, slimy goop between his fingers, accompanied by a faint squelch noise.
He’d somehow managed to catch his balance by sticking his hand in the mixing bowl.
Brian took one look at the situation and started laughing. “This is amazing,” said Brian, “This is fucking priceless. The universe obviously does not want me to cook.”
Justin smiled. “Yeah, I think some cosmic balance somewhere has been skewed,” he said, and smeared a big glop of the mixture across Brian’s cheek.
Brian jumped back and banged against the counter edge. “Fuck!” he swore, and rubbed at his ass. “Fuck you! My fucking ass is bruised now. You little shit!” He swiped at his cheek but only managed to smear the brown stickiness across his nose as well.
It didn’t help Brian’s annoyance that Justin was doubled over in hysterics.
“Oh my fucking god,” Justin gasped. “Talk about priceless. Oh man.”
Brian grabbed Justin by the hips and sat down abruptly, dragging Justin with him onto the floor. Justin kept laughing, so Brian yanked his pants down and started sucking his cock.
“Ah!” Justin yelped at the sensation and threw his head back, knocking it against the hardwood floor. “Shit!”
Brian looked up at him, disengaging for a moment. “What can I say, Sunshine,” he smirked, “Just wanted some more of that sweet stuff.”
“Oh man,” Justin panted, “You are so corny.”
“Horny,” said Brian, “The word you’re looking for is horny.”
“No, definitely corny,” Justin grinned. “You’re such a big smurf ball. A big fluffy kitten.”
“Shut the fuck up,” said Brian, and swallowed Justin’s cock again.
Justin squeaked as teeth grazed a sensitive spot. “Brian, even if I’m sweet, that doesn’t mean you have to fucking bite me!”
Brian didn’t dignify that with a response, but Justin felt his tongue sweep apologetically over the pained area, then Brian’s lips tightened and he forced them down over Justin’s shaft, and Justin pretty much forgave him right then and arched against Brian’s encircling arms.
Justin nudged one arm out of the way and hooked a leg over Brian’s back, rubbing the knot at the end of Brian’s spine with the ball of his foot. Brian leaned on one hip and started stroking himself.
Justin abruptly stopped squirming. “Wait,” he said. “Wait, wait.” The blowjob was all well and good, but he wanted to try something else.
Brian took his mouth off Justin’s dick and looked at him questioningly.
“I wanna fuck you,” said Justin. “I want to fuck you really bad.”
Brian’s face tightened, and although it made him look pensive, Justin knew that it was Brian’s trying-not-to-look-turned-on face, the one that he only used with Justin. Or frankly, only had reason to use with Justin.
Brian bit his lip and shrugged. That meant “yes, fuck me hard” in Brian-speak.
Justin sat up and rooted around in the cutlery drawer until he found lube and condoms. He leaned down and kissed Brian deeply, then pulled them both to their feet.
“Couch?” said Brian.
“Bed,” said Justin.
Justin quickly rinsed his hands off at the sink, and dried them on Brian’s shirt. They made their way up to the bed and Justin peeled Brian’s jeans off of him the rest of the way.
Justin kissed him again, still tasting lingering chocolate and the salty tang of his own flesh. He smoothed a hand down Brian’s cheek, wiped at the bits of drying batter with his thumb. They were both going to need a shower pretty bad.
Brian looked at him, then half-nodded and rolled over onto his front, bracing his head on his crossed arms. Justin kissed his neck and rolled a condom on, and squirted some lube onto his fingers.
He felt around at Brian’s asshole and Brian hissed, then relaxed. Justin worked the lube into Brian as he stretched him, but after a dozen seconds or so, Brian pushed back against his hand. “C’mon,” he said.
“Yeah, gonna fuck you,” Justin breathed, and Brian pushed against his hand again in response. “Okay,” Justin said.
He guided himself to Brian’s hole and pushed in slowly, at first, and then Brian changed the angle of his hips and Justin slid in the rest of the way with more ease.
“Ahh,” Justin moaned, and thought he heard a muffled echo from Brian. Brian was so hot around his cock, so hot. Justin felt a tingling thrill under his skin, the thrill he always got when Brian let him do this, let him come inside.
A sudden shrill beep came from the direction of the kitchen, startling them both for a second.
Brian started chuckling. “The oven’s ready,” he said. “That means -“ he broke off and groaned. “Fuck, Justin,” he said.
Justin kissed Brian’s shoulder blades, then licked the crease between Brian’s straining back muscles. He drew out a little, then thrust back in again, making short little jabs at first, feeling Brian shiver around his cock.
Then Justin eased out and started fucking him slower, letting his whole cock length do the work. Slipping almost all the way out, and then rushing, pushing in again. Brian’s body moved with him, working with the motion.
Yeah. It was never like Brian to just lay there and take it, not with anything, no matter what. That was another thing Justin loved him for.
Justin squeezed his eyes shut. It came in waves sometimes, nearly overpowering. Love. Love, love, love. It dizzied him for a second.
Justin thrust in as far as he could and Brian curled back against him like a drawn bow. Justin stayed there, and nipped at Brian’s ear to get his attention.
“Love,” Justin whispered, but it came out as a gasp. “Yeah. Yeah. Oh, god, I love you.” Brian made a choked noise. “So hot like this,” Justin said, “Under me.”
Brian buried his face in his arms. He let out a strained breath. “Justin. I - Justin, I need to come now,” he said.
“Okay,” Justin said. He ran a hand down Brian’s sweaty ribs, and again, stroking him over and over like a cat. He could feel Brian’s heart beating fast, and Justin started to move in him again.
Brian reached down and jerked himself off with Justin’s thrusts, until a minute later he jerked in Justin’s arms and tightened, pulsing around Justin's cock, his knees slipping on the sheets.
“Justin,” he said, his voice clear and almost surprised, and that was all, but it was more than enough.
*
“Hmm,” said Justin. He was still on a smug high. For a while, Justin had tried to break himself of the habitual "Just Fucked Brian Kinney" smugness, but then he realized Brian found it amusing, and didn't bother after that. “Talk about cosmic balances,” he said, lightly teasing.
Freshly dressed from the shower, hair still wet, Brian raised an eyebrow at him. He tossed Justin his sneakers, and narrowly missed hitting him in the face with them.
“Get your fucking shoes on,” Brian said. “We need to run out and get more brownie mix, or -“
“- Debbie will have your other ball,” Justin finished. “Yeah.” He started lacing his shoes. “We’re still going to die, you know.”
“What?” said Brian. “Oh, right, from the eggs.”
“Salmonella,” Justin said. “I’m not joking. Look it up online.”
“Whatever,” said Brian.
“It’ll be so wonderfully romantic,” Justin mused, finished tying one shoe and started on the other. “And tragic. Very Romeo and Juliet. We’ll die of eating raw eggs, but we’ll die together.”
“The goddamn grocery store closes at eleven,” Brian said, but when Justin looked up, he was smiling.
end
In honor of burnitbackwards's very special fabulous day, I wrote food pr0n. I also blame the completely unsuspecting mcpofife, for she left me an lj comment about baking brownies with Gale Harold at exactly the wrong right time.
So here we go. Hastily edited, aka not at all, and characterization went out the window, because really, it's food pr0n, and I wrote it in a couple of hours. What characterization? (And implausible? Oh yeah.) But I hope it is enjoyable, nonetheless.
Justin slid the loft door shut with a bang, and walked over to the kitchen bar, setting his bag on top of it. He glanced over at Brian, who was facing away from him, fiddling with something on the counter. Brian hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge his existence.
“Hey,” Justin said. “What are you doing?”
Brian glanced up at him, and Justin had just enough time to be worried at his mischievous expression before Brian stuck a spoon in his face.
Justin flinched in surprise.
“Here,” said Brian, “Suck it.”
The wooden spoon in front of Justin’s nose was covered in lumpish brown goop. And it was dripping on Justin’s sneakers.
And the whole thing, the spoon, the weird Brian behavior, everything, was really the most disturbing situation Justin had ever thought he’d find himself in.
Well, not the most disturbing.
“What the fuck??” said Justin, and batted Brian’s spoon-holding hand away. “I’ve already been brained by enough wooden instruments, thanks.”
Brian glared at him for a second, then wordlessly shook his head and turned back to his bowl. Justin could finally see what he was doing, although he’d already guessed from the brown goop that either Brian had gone insane and started grinding up livestock manure as a new form of aphrodisiac, or... he was baking. Judging from the eggshells and open cardboard boxes of double-chocolate brownie mix strewn across the stove, it was the latter.
Justin had to admit, even if he had ever dreamed of this possible domestic scenario, (which okay, yeah, he had, shut up), he would never have imagined it would be Brian practicing the culinary arts. He really didn’t know how to deal with this.
“Sorry,” said Justin belatedly. “I didn’t mean that, about the ...braining me stuff. Umm.” He squeezed Brian’s arm. Brian still got a little sensitive about Justin’s head trauma humor.
Brian glanced at him. “Whatever,” he said, but his shoulders unstiffened a little.
“So, you’re baking!” Justin said brightly. “This is. Nice.”
Brian’s fingers turned white around the handle of his spoon. “Uh-huh,” he said.
“So,” said Justin again. “Why brownies? Are you off the low-carb thing?”
“No,” said Brian, and continued stirring.
“So...” Justin stared at him blankly. “Pot brownies?”
Brian shuddered. “God, no,” he said. “Although that might make Gus’s party a little easier to manage.”
The light dawned. Brian was making a batch of brownies for his son’s birthday party the next day. Justin always knew that Brian would do anything for Gus -
Wait. Justin opened his mouth, but Brian shook his head before he could say anything.
“Debbie suggested that I help out,” said Brian, guessing what Justin was going to ask. “I feared for my safety.”
“Ahh,” said Justin, “I see.” He hooked his arms around Brian’s waist and leaned his chin on Brian’s shoulder, looking down at the viscous mass in the mixing bowl.
Brian turned his head and kissed Justin on the cheek. “Mmph,” he grunted. “You showed up just in time. Get me a pan for this.”
Justin shook his head and rooted through a couple of cabinets before finding one. It was dusty, so he rinsed it off.
Brian watched him with a half-smile.
Justin raised an eyebrow. “No comments about me being a housewife. I fucking mean it.”
“Did I say a word?” Brian tugged Justin toward him until their bodies were touching, and kissed him softly. He drew back and pulled the spoon out of the bowl again, and held it up between them. “Here,” said Brian, “Seriously. Have a taste.”
Justin wrinkled his nose. “Brian,” he said patiently, “I’d love to, but there’s raw eggs in that stuff.”
“So?” said Brian.
“So if you eat raw eggs, there’s a high risk of salmonella,” said Justin. “And that would not be a fun way to go.”
Brian looked at him incredulously. “...You’ve never eaten batter,” he said flatly.
Justin sighed. “Of course not,” and he tapped on the spoon with one finger. “It’s dangerous! I never ate anything with raw eggs in it when I was little.”
“You were a deprived child,” said Brian. “A child with a very hot ass, I must say, but so deprived.”
Brian locked gazes with Justin, and very, very slowly teased his tongue up the handle of the spoon, running his mouth all over the suddenly-turned-phallic wooden shaft. He reached the end and thrust his tongue into the spoon’s indentation, getting the chocolate batter all over his lips.
Justin moistened his own lips at the sight, and pressed his crotch against Brian’s, pinning him against the counter. “Fuck, only you could make that hot,” he breathed.
Brian raised an eyebrow, took another lick of brownie mix, and kissed Justin before he could react.
“Mmm...” Justin’s lips fell open immediately, and Brian’s tongue swept into his mouth, bringing a big wad of chocolate brownie mix in with it. It was sweet and gritty, and Justin’s mind started screaming “Raw eggs! Raw eggs!” but he still tasted all of it, swallowed, and kissed Brian harder, feeling the new texture of his mouth.
He licked at Brian’s stained brown lips and felt him shudder between Justin’s hips and the edge of the counter.
Brian moaned and let the wooden spoon clatter onto the floor. He grabbed the back of Justin’s head and licked at his teeth. “Yeah. You got here just in time,” Brian panted, “Help me with this.” He grabbed Justin’s hand and shoved it between them, guiding Justin to his hardening cock.
Justin palmed his erection for a moment, then squeezed, rubbing a thumb over Brian’s jeans in what seemed like a particularly throbbing place. Brian let out a noise that Justin could never call a gasp, on pain of death, and then Brian said urgently, “Fuck, just get your fucking clothes off!”
Justin put his lips to Brian’s throat, and unzipped Brian’s jeans. He grasped smooth, sweaty cock, and felt Brian’s pubic hair brush against his fingertips. “You really just don’t believe in underwear, do you,” Justin laughed.
Brian chuckled and shook his head, and tried to get Justin’s shirt off without making Justin move his hands. It didn’t work out too well, so Justin turned loose of Brian’s dick until they managed it. Brian tossed the shirt to the side and started working on the fastening of Justin’s pants, his fingers nudging at Justin’s erection a little more than they needed to.
“Oh,” Justin said, and staggered against Brian with a sudden wave of arousal. He grabbed at the counter, and froze at the feeling of cool, slimy goop between his fingers, accompanied by a faint squelch noise.
He’d somehow managed to catch his balance by sticking his hand in the mixing bowl.
Brian took one look at the situation and started laughing. “This is amazing,” said Brian, “This is fucking priceless. The universe obviously does not want me to cook.”
Justin smiled. “Yeah, I think some cosmic balance somewhere has been skewed,” he said, and smeared a big glop of the mixture across Brian’s cheek.
Brian jumped back and banged against the counter edge. “Fuck!” he swore, and rubbed at his ass. “Fuck you! My fucking ass is bruised now. You little shit!” He swiped at his cheek but only managed to smear the brown stickiness across his nose as well.
It didn’t help Brian’s annoyance that Justin was doubled over in hysterics.
“Oh my fucking god,” Justin gasped. “Talk about priceless. Oh man.”
Brian grabbed Justin by the hips and sat down abruptly, dragging Justin with him onto the floor. Justin kept laughing, so Brian yanked his pants down and started sucking his cock.
“Ah!” Justin yelped at the sensation and threw his head back, knocking it against the hardwood floor. “Shit!”
Brian looked up at him, disengaging for a moment. “What can I say, Sunshine,” he smirked, “Just wanted some more of that sweet stuff.”
“Oh man,” Justin panted, “You are so corny.”
“Horny,” said Brian, “The word you’re looking for is horny.”
“No, definitely corny,” Justin grinned. “You’re such a big smurf ball. A big fluffy kitten.”
“Shut the fuck up,” said Brian, and swallowed Justin’s cock again.
Justin squeaked as teeth grazed a sensitive spot. “Brian, even if I’m sweet, that doesn’t mean you have to fucking bite me!”
Brian didn’t dignify that with a response, but Justin felt his tongue sweep apologetically over the pained area, then Brian’s lips tightened and he forced them down over Justin’s shaft, and Justin pretty much forgave him right then and arched against Brian’s encircling arms.
Justin nudged one arm out of the way and hooked a leg over Brian’s back, rubbing the knot at the end of Brian’s spine with the ball of his foot. Brian leaned on one hip and started stroking himself.
Justin abruptly stopped squirming. “Wait,” he said. “Wait, wait.” The blowjob was all well and good, but he wanted to try something else.
Brian took his mouth off Justin’s dick and looked at him questioningly.
“I wanna fuck you,” said Justin. “I want to fuck you really bad.”
Brian’s face tightened, and although it made him look pensive, Justin knew that it was Brian’s trying-not-to-look-turned-on face, the one that he only used with Justin. Or frankly, only had reason to use with Justin.
Brian bit his lip and shrugged. That meant “yes, fuck me hard” in Brian-speak.
Justin sat up and rooted around in the cutlery drawer until he found lube and condoms. He leaned down and kissed Brian deeply, then pulled them both to their feet.
“Couch?” said Brian.
“Bed,” said Justin.
Justin quickly rinsed his hands off at the sink, and dried them on Brian’s shirt. They made their way up to the bed and Justin peeled Brian’s jeans off of him the rest of the way.
Justin kissed him again, still tasting lingering chocolate and the salty tang of his own flesh. He smoothed a hand down Brian’s cheek, wiped at the bits of drying batter with his thumb. They were both going to need a shower pretty bad.
Brian looked at him, then half-nodded and rolled over onto his front, bracing his head on his crossed arms. Justin kissed his neck and rolled a condom on, and squirted some lube onto his fingers.
He felt around at Brian’s asshole and Brian hissed, then relaxed. Justin worked the lube into Brian as he stretched him, but after a dozen seconds or so, Brian pushed back against his hand. “C’mon,” he said.
“Yeah, gonna fuck you,” Justin breathed, and Brian pushed against his hand again in response. “Okay,” Justin said.
He guided himself to Brian’s hole and pushed in slowly, at first, and then Brian changed the angle of his hips and Justin slid in the rest of the way with more ease.
“Ahh,” Justin moaned, and thought he heard a muffled echo from Brian. Brian was so hot around his cock, so hot. Justin felt a tingling thrill under his skin, the thrill he always got when Brian let him do this, let him come inside.
A sudden shrill beep came from the direction of the kitchen, startling them both for a second.
Brian started chuckling. “The oven’s ready,” he said. “That means -“ he broke off and groaned. “Fuck, Justin,” he said.
Justin kissed Brian’s shoulder blades, then licked the crease between Brian’s straining back muscles. He drew out a little, then thrust back in again, making short little jabs at first, feeling Brian shiver around his cock.
Then Justin eased out and started fucking him slower, letting his whole cock length do the work. Slipping almost all the way out, and then rushing, pushing in again. Brian’s body moved with him, working with the motion.
Yeah. It was never like Brian to just lay there and take it, not with anything, no matter what. That was another thing Justin loved him for.
Justin squeezed his eyes shut. It came in waves sometimes, nearly overpowering. Love. Love, love, love. It dizzied him for a second.
Justin thrust in as far as he could and Brian curled back against him like a drawn bow. Justin stayed there, and nipped at Brian’s ear to get his attention.
“Love,” Justin whispered, but it came out as a gasp. “Yeah. Yeah. Oh, god, I love you.” Brian made a choked noise. “So hot like this,” Justin said, “Under me.”
Brian buried his face in his arms. He let out a strained breath. “Justin. I - Justin, I need to come now,” he said.
“Okay,” Justin said. He ran a hand down Brian’s sweaty ribs, and again, stroking him over and over like a cat. He could feel Brian’s heart beating fast, and Justin started to move in him again.
Brian reached down and jerked himself off with Justin’s thrusts, until a minute later he jerked in Justin’s arms and tightened, pulsing around Justin's cock, his knees slipping on the sheets.
“Justin,” he said, his voice clear and almost surprised, and that was all, but it was more than enough.
*
“Hmm,” said Justin. He was still on a smug high. For a while, Justin had tried to break himself of the habitual "Just Fucked Brian Kinney" smugness, but then he realized Brian found it amusing, and didn't bother after that. “Talk about cosmic balances,” he said, lightly teasing.
Freshly dressed from the shower, hair still wet, Brian raised an eyebrow at him. He tossed Justin his sneakers, and narrowly missed hitting him in the face with them.
“Get your fucking shoes on,” Brian said. “We need to run out and get more brownie mix, or -“
“- Debbie will have your other ball,” Justin finished. “Yeah.” He started lacing his shoes. “We’re still going to die, you know.”
“What?” said Brian. “Oh, right, from the eggs.”
“Salmonella,” Justin said. “I’m not joking. Look it up online.”
“Whatever,” said Brian.
“It’ll be so wonderfully romantic,” Justin mused, finished tying one shoe and started on the other. “And tragic. Very Romeo and Juliet. We’ll die of eating raw eggs, but we’ll die together.”
“The goddamn grocery store closes at eleven,” Brian said, but when Justin looked up, he was smiling.
end