Ficlet: The One Where They Finally Go On Vacation
The One Where They Finally Go On Vacation
Sydney Alexis
Prompt from shadownyc
Things like vacations never worked for them. In fact, every time Justin bought a plane ticket he expected something disastrous to happen.
Needless to say that, when Brian showed up at his New York City's apartment at four in the fucking morning, thrust a plane ticket into his chest, and greeted him with a 'start packing your shit,' Justin got nervous.
He stepped back into the apartment, one hand on the doorknob and the other wiping sleep from his eyes because Brian showing up in New York at 4 am had to be some sort of an hallucination. One that smelled like an airport, smoke, and whiskey? Okay...so it was a really good hallucination.
And then the doorknob was pulled from his hand.
Before he could even register the sound of the door slamming closed, a very real Brian had spun him around and was pushing him up against the door.
The kiss was wild--open mouth, tongue tracing and remapping the interior of his mouth. Just as Justin's sleep addled brain woke up enough to return the kiss, Brian was pulling away, resting his forehead against Justin's. Ragged breath against arousal-heated skin.
"I said 'pack your shit.'"
Justin blinked slowly as he tried to catch up.
An amused smirk firmly in place, Brian's hand reached out to Justin's, raising the half-crushed plane ticket into view.
Pulling back, Justin examined the ticket, snorting when he read it.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, stepping further into his apartment.
"I did promise to take you," Brian said.
"Yeah. Like seven years ago." A beat. "What the fuck brought this on?"
Smiling that shy smile Brian always had when caught, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a newspaper clipping.
"'When asked why it had been such a long period of time since his last gallery opening, Mr. Taylor replied, 'I think I'm just a little burned out. I'm thinking it's time to take some time off. See the world. Maybe find my inspiration again.'"
The moment Brian began reading it, Justin buried his face in his hands. Christ he'd been drunk when he'd talked to that twat from the Times!
With great care and show, Brian returned the article to his jacket pocket.
"Well, Mr. Taylor, your inspiration is here, and he brought a ticket to see the world. Now, pack your shit, or we won't make our flight."
Yes, this Brian was definitely a fucking hallucination.
Of course, that didn't stop Justin from walking into his bedroom to pack.
*palm/face* The schmaltz!
Sydney Alexis
Prompt from shadownyc
Things like vacations never worked for them. In fact, every time Justin bought a plane ticket he expected something disastrous to happen.
Needless to say that, when Brian showed up at his New York City's apartment at four in the fucking morning, thrust a plane ticket into his chest, and greeted him with a 'start packing your shit,' Justin got nervous.
He stepped back into the apartment, one hand on the doorknob and the other wiping sleep from his eyes because Brian showing up in New York at 4 am had to be some sort of an hallucination. One that smelled like an airport, smoke, and whiskey? Okay...so it was a really good hallucination.
And then the doorknob was pulled from his hand.
Before he could even register the sound of the door slamming closed, a very real Brian had spun him around and was pushing him up against the door.
The kiss was wild--open mouth, tongue tracing and remapping the interior of his mouth. Just as Justin's sleep addled brain woke up enough to return the kiss, Brian was pulling away, resting his forehead against Justin's. Ragged breath against arousal-heated skin.
"I said 'pack your shit.'"
Justin blinked slowly as he tried to catch up.
An amused smirk firmly in place, Brian's hand reached out to Justin's, raising the half-crushed plane ticket into view.
Pulling back, Justin examined the ticket, snorting when he read it.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, stepping further into his apartment.
"I did promise to take you," Brian said.
"Yeah. Like seven years ago." A beat. "What the fuck brought this on?"
Smiling that shy smile Brian always had when caught, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a newspaper clipping.
"'When asked why it had been such a long period of time since his last gallery opening, Mr. Taylor replied, 'I think I'm just a little burned out. I'm thinking it's time to take some time off. See the world. Maybe find my inspiration again.'"
The moment Brian began reading it, Justin buried his face in his hands. Christ he'd been drunk when he'd talked to that twat from the Times!
With great care and show, Brian returned the article to his jacket pocket.
"Well, Mr. Taylor, your inspiration is here, and he brought a ticket to see the world. Now, pack your shit, or we won't make our flight."
Yes, this Brian was definitely a fucking hallucination.
Of course, that didn't stop Justin from walking into his bedroom to pack.
*palm/face* The schmaltz!