Fic: Three's A Crowd [ 3/? ]
Title: Three's A Crowd
Author: museme87
Pairing(s): Brian/Justin, Ben/Michael, Mel/Lindsay, Ted/Blake, Deb/Carl
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Over the course of his and Justin's seven year non-relationship, Brian had never been one to say no to a third party addition. But when the addition is far more permanent and redefines playroom for the worst, Brian thinks twice about rekindling their old flame. [Post 5.13]
Chapter: 3
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 8,378
Warnings: strong language, sexual situations, brief mention of past Justin/other
Author's Note: Sorry for the small delay in posting this chapter. Real life got in the way of both mine and my beta's lives. I hope the wait was worth it, and thank you all, again, for your support!
Brian stretches in bed, working the sleepiness from his limbs, before settling his arms around Justin again. He buries his nose in blond hair as Sunshine nestles in closer to him, barely awake. While it's not exactly their well-established morning routine, Brian somehow talks himself into settling for this. It's not fucking cuddling; he doesn't do cuddling. But this sort of lying next to each other, legs tangled and arms draped, isn't so bad.
Justin's breathing turns slow and heavy again as he drifts back to sleep. As his fingers run up and down Justin's back, Brian glances over at the alarm clock-8:24. He's not late for work yet-if a CEO can be late-but he'll never make it in on time if he doesn't get his ass up now. But, said ass being possessively cupped by Justin's hand, it's not happening. He'll have to call in to Cynthia as soon as he can maneuver around a lifeless, boneless Justin.
When his fingers trail across Justin's tail bone, Brian hears Justin sigh and feels him smile against his collarbone. Grinning to himself, he repeats the movement and that sigh turns suddenly needy. Justin fidgets into a half-woken state-fully woken in certain areas-while Brian dips a finger between Justin's cheeks.
"Good morning, Sunshine," Brian says, all sexy-sweet.
Justin gasps, pained. "Shit. I'm sore. Stop that, Brian."
Reluctantly, Brian withdraws his finger. "Do you know what that means?"
"Hmm?"
"You're not getting your ass pounded frequently enough," he whispers into Justin's ear. "It's a shame to let such a thing of beauty go to waste. A real tragedy."
"And the major character death in this work happens to be my sex life," Justin mumbles against his chest.
"Mmm, not if I have anything to say about it."
Brian rolls them over, Justin now trapped securely beneath him. Their eyes meet as Brian runs his fingers through Justin's hair and leans in for a kiss. Moaning, Justin opens his mouth to Brian's tongue. Tongues tangle, push, seek as Brian presses Justin further into the bed. When Justin's nails dig into his back, Brian gasps, breaking off their kiss.
"Please tell me you don't have to be anywhere anytime soon," Brian says, nipping at Justin's jaw.
"Mom has a Grammy day planned for her and Eli, so not really."
Briefly, Brian thinks to ask why in the hell Justin's given his kid a boy's name for a nickname, but then realizes he doesn't give a fuck. Not when it comes to her. What he decidedly does give a fuck about is Justin talking about the urchin while in his bed. In a desperate attempt to get Sunshine to shut up, Brian kisses his way down Justin's body and takes his cock deep into his mouth.
Justin sucks in a sharp breath at the sudden movement and holds it as Brian begins to suck him off. Brian's missed this-having Justin's cock heavy on his tongue, taking in the heady taste. He could have never anticipated wanting to suck one cock, drive into one ass for the rest of his life-maybe he still can't, not completely-but Justin brings him close to imagining it.
Sunshine exhales, shuddering. "Brian, fuck."
"I thought you said your ass was too sore," he says, releasing Justin's dick with a wet pop.
"Not what I-ah!-meant."
As Brian begins to suck with abandon, Justin squirms, his thighs tense as if trying to resist bucking into Brian's mouth. Brian can tell by the way Justin's hips quiver beneath his hands. It's almost a game for him, seeing how far he can push before Justin completely unravels.
"Brian," Justin pants. "Brian."
When Justin struggles to prop himself up on his elbows, Brian's eyes flick up to see what's wrong. By the look of Sunshine's heated gaze, nothing. But as Brian shifts to return to his blow job, Justin's fingers on his cheek stop him.
"My ass is sore, but…"
Brian snorts. "In your dreams, Sunshine."
"Brian!" Justin flops back down.
Foreseeing Justin's mood going south-and not the kind of south that Brian usually prefers-he crawls back up to Justin, licking and biting him every so often to keep him pliable. Hazel and blue meet briefly before Sunshine looks away. Brian grins, kissing the corner of Justin's mouth.
"You're not going to waste valuable fucking time pouting, are you?"
Justin peers up at him. "I could ask the same of you."
"Stop being a little twat."
Shifting, Brian rolls his hips, their cocks aligning perfectly. He'll give Justin props for trying to resist at first, but he's not known as the hottest fuck on Liberty Avenue for nothing. Soon Justin's snapping and slipping against him, and Brian's confident that he's won this battle.
At least until one of their cells vibrates.
He tries his best to just fucking ignore it. It's probably Cynthia wanting to know where the hell he is. But Justin seems much less willing to let it go, trying to wriggle his way from underneath him to find his phone. Brian stops him with a forceful kiss, smothering his protest between their lips. His hips move more quickly against Justin, but Sunshine isn't having it.
"I have to see if that's me."
When he finally frees himself from most of Brian's weight, Justin reaches over the side of the bed for his phone. The moment that it's confirmed that it is Justin's and not his, Brian groans inwardly.
"Don't answer it." Brian makes purposefully needy eyes at him. "Please. I'll let you fuck me." Seeing that it's not quite working as well as it should, he nuzzles Justin and whispers, "I want you to fuck me, Justin. I want your dick in my ass. I want to feel you-"
"Look, I appreciate the sentiments and would be more than happy to take you up on the offer, but I have to answer the fucking phone first. Something might be wrong with Elise."
His lips thinning at the denial, Brian rolls over to the other side of the bed and fumes. God damn, mother fucking… He glares at Justin as he sits up and redials whoever called. As amazing at last night was, he shouldn't have gotten involved again, even if said involvement began and ended at fucking. And after as many times as Justin has left him, he should be used to this sort of rejection. But he isn't, and it hurts like hell.
Just as he moves to get up and finish himself off in the bathroom-giving Justin time to get the fuck out-he feels Justin's fingers lace through his. Despite his best efforts, Brian can't stop himself from looking over at Justin, whose apologetic gaze is fixed on him.
"Hey, Mom," Justin says into the phone. "No, sorry, I didn't make it to the phone in time. Is something wrong?...Shit…No, it's not a problem…Mom, don't apologize…"
His even tone tells Brian that nothing is wrong with the urchin, which gives him a little hope. But then comes the disappointment, the sorry look in his eyes, and Brian knows that this morning has officially ended. He really is tempted to run away from this, from both Justin and these lesbianic feelings. Justin's fingers tighten their hold on him, though, anchoring him in place.
Smiling, Justin says, "Yeah, it was nice…I stayed over at Brian's…No, I…Mom." Justin shifts the end of the phone away from his mouth and, blushing, tells him, "Mom sends her love."
"Tell your mother she has shit timing."
"Brian sends his love, too…Yeah…No, just give me time to get dressed and I'll head home…Alright, bye."
Tossing the phone into the mass of waded up sheets and duvet, Justin turns to Brian. He looks away immediately, trying to urge Justin to get up and get out before he becomes some sentimental idiot. But Justin doesn't and instead leans over to kiss him tenderly on the lips.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry's-"
"-bullshit. I know."
"Stop finishing my sentences."
Justin lies down next to him, fucking cuddles up. Brian shoots him a look, but he seems altogether unfazed by it. Not that that's a newsflash. It's been ages since Justin's been properly ruffled by him.
"Some big shot client wants my mom to show him some properties at ten, and he's not taking no for an answer. I have to get home so she can leave."
"Then leave."
"Not until you stop being a pissy little bitch about this. Brian, I don't want to go. Trust me."
"I said leave."
He frowns, and Brian thinks that maybe he should stop punishing Sunshine for this. Because Brian gets that Justin would rather stick around, fucking and getting fucked by him. But he can't, and all because of the kid. He knew he was fighting a losing battle when it came to her. But, he wants Justin-he can own up to that now-and he doesn't want to have to share.
"You know I lo-"
"Don't, Sunshine."
"And you love me too," Justin continues, persistent little shit that he is. "You said so last night."
"It doesn't count if you're shooting your load."
It's apparently enough to piss Justin off because he rolls out of bed, pinching Brian's side in the process. Brian yelps, scowling as Justin quickly gathers up his clothes and throws them on. He still looks good in them this morning, thoroughly fucked and deliciously disheveled. Brian's softening cock twitches as proof, as if he needed it.
When Justin finishes, he stands at the side of the bed. Brian doesn't know what to say to him. Everything seems to fall short of ideal. Being an ass isn't going to get him anywhere, though he'd like to come up with some sort of remark just to make Justin feel his disappointment. And telling him he had a great time would be honest, but fails to keep up with appearances. In the end, he just let's Sunshine make the move.
"I guess I'll see you around."
Brian shrugs. "Probably."
After Justin leaves and he puts in a call to the office to cancel his morning appointments, Brian takes a long shower. He tries to scrub the remnants of the past twelve hours away, dragging the soap roughly across his skin. The water runs cold before Brian ever feels cleansed.
As he's walking back into the bedroom, his cell begins to ring. One look tells him it's Mother Taylor's house phone. He wonders why the hell she's calling him-maybe to tear him a new asshole for fucking her baby boy, though Brian had thought they'd gotten past that ages ago. Women are a curious breed, though, and Brian readily admits to having limited knowledge of their inner workings.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Sorry to bother you, but I think I left my cell there."
Justin. Christ, and just when he thought he'd gotten rid of him. Pulling a cigarette from his case along with a lighter, Brian sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn't bother thinking up a response until he's taken a long drag off of it.
"And what would you like me to do about that, Sunshine?"
"If you're still at the loft, can you look around for it?" Justin huffs.
"I suppose," he drawls, acting put out, as he begins to move the pillows around.
"Thanks."
Having no luck in the pillows, Brian searches at the foot of the bed and wonders if maybe Justin hadn't left his phone on purpose. Not that Justin ever needed some pathetic excuse to come calling again in the past. And considering the thing is practically attached to his hand every waking minute of the day-or at least it had been when they were not-dating-Brian doubts he could deal with the withdrawal. As he lifts the sheets on Justin's side of the bed, he finds the cell.
"Got it right here."
"Can I ask another favor of you then?"
Brian lies down, taking another puff off his cigarette. "Do I sound like I'm in a particularly generous mood?"
"Do you ever?" Justin sighs, sounding tired. "If it isn't too much trouble, could you bring it by Mom's tonight? I'd come get it, but I'm stranded until God knows when. And I'm expecting a call from my agent. It's really important, Brian. I wouldn't bother you with this if it weren't."
"I haven't heard you beg this much since that night at the Mandarin Oriental when I had your balls-"
"Brian…"
"You do remember it, don't you?"
Brian does. Perfectly. It would have been their one year anniversary had they gone through with the wedding. He'd secretly planned it-ordered a suite at the Mandarin Oriental, reserved dinner at Le Bernardin, showed up unexpectedly at Justin's work to sweep him off his feet. When Justin asked him, he'd explained it was all to celebrate them coming to their senses before it was too late. Brian doesn't think Sunshine bought it, and probably rightly so. Because more than anything, Brian had shown up to prove something to the both of them-as promised, one year later, they were still together.
"Of course I remember. It was ridiculously romantic. I'm convinced to this day that it was Emmett's idea all along."
"Oh fuck you, Sunshine."
"You did. Last night. Now about my phone."
Rolling his eyes, he hesitates to answer Justin. Brian wonders if Justin is being serious about thinking it was all Emmy Lou's plan. It wasn't. He can do ridiculously romantic if he wants. He has before-one time in particular-but Justin doesn't remember that. And maybe Brian can admit to himself that that's the reason why he held back on romantic gestures afterward. Beyond the safety of Liberty Avenue, he could never know what display of affection would get Justin another bat to the head.
Brian feels suddenly sick and clears his throat. "I'll bring it over after work."
Without waiting for Justin's response, he hangs up and drops the phone on the bed.
~*~*~*~
Brian's not felt so unfocused at work for a very long time. There are at least three different sets of papers requiring his signature, not to mention all the lackeys that could use a fucking fire lit under their collective ass. Kinnetik is doing well-exceedingly well, actually-but it sure as hell won't be if he doesn't pull his shit together.
Still, he sighs and lets his eyes fall heavily on Justin's phone where it lays on his desk. He'd once dreamed-in those very early days of their separation-that Kinnetik would be such a fucking success that he could afford to open a New York office. He and Justin might have been able to fall into their old routine, or something like it. And just as it's starting to look like he might be able to take Kinnetik there, Brian's realizes that there's no point. He ought to stop chasing dreams.
He'll never know why he does it, other than the fact that he's snooped through Justin's stuff for ages now to try to be close to him, to understand. But, Brian snatches the phone up and works easily enough through the security code. Sunshine can be so goddamn predictable at times.
In all honesty, as he stares at the screen, Brian has no clue what he's going to do. Read his texts? Look through his call list? Figure out if there is a special someone in his life nowadays? Not that it fucking matters. He aimlessly punches and presses the screen until he finds his way into Justin's pictures.
Unsurprisingly, he's greeted with photo after photo of the urchin at various ages. One in particular has him stopping-and grinning, before he suppresses it. It's just Sunshine and the kid, doing their Sunshine-y thing. She looks quite a bit younger, her chubby cheek pressed tightly against Justin's as they try to cram their faces into the frame. But it's not her that has him smiling against his better judgment; it's Justin-how happy he looks, how content. Brian's never really seen that look on him before, and it kills him to know that he never has and never will be the reason for that expression.
"Hey, you busy?"
Brian sets the phone down quickly and looks up to find Mikey in his doorway. "Not really."
Sheepishly, Michael steps into the office before holding up a take-out bag from the diner. "I was over getting lunch and Ma said you hadn't been in for your usual. She thought you might be working yourself to death."
"This is her apology for tearing me a new asshole on Sunday, isn't it?"
"Probably. She sent enough lemon bars to feed an army. Overcompensation being her poison of choice." He shrugs, smirking. "It could have been worse. Today's special is meatloaf."
Michael and Brian settle into the sofa for lunch-not unlike they had when they were teens-and Michael chatters on for ages about a new comic collection he just bought for the store. Rare editions…so expensive…great condition…Brian, you're not going to believe it…yadda, yadda. The familiarity of the situation comforts him.
"So Em called me last night," Michael prompts, eyes knowing, before biting into his sandwich.
Brian raises an eyebrow. "Let me guess. He wanted to let you know that Justin and I went home together."
"Well mostly he called to make sure that we got the invitations to Ted and Blake's stag party. It's this Saturday, so don't forget or try to come up with some snarky excuse about visiting your Grandma. We all know she's dead." Michael takes another bite. "But yeah, he might have mentioned that too. He said you looked pretty happy."
"I was going to fuck all night. Damn right I was happy."
"With Justin."
"What?"
"You were going to fuck all night with Justin."
"That's what I said," Brian barks, exasperated.
"No-" Michael pauses, waving his hands around as if trying to summon the words from thin air. "It's just…not the same with Boy Wonder. The way you look, I mean. Like you're a whole different kind of happy or something. Anyway, that's not the point. What happened?"
"Um, let's see." Brian rolls his eyes. "I took him home, and he blew me in the kitchen. Then-"
"Cut the crap. That's not what I meant, and you know it."
He does know it, and judging from Michael's kicked-puppy expression, there's no chance he's going to get away with leaving it at that. Brian has never been terribly effective against it, which has gotten him in trouble more times than he cares to think about.
"It was alright," Brian says finally, before shoving a whole lemon bar in his mouth.
"Are you two getting back together?"
"Why the fuck would you think that?"
"I don't know," Michael says sarcastically, voice raised. "Because you never fucking tell us anything anymore, so we're just left to assume stuff. I don't even know why you two broke up in the first place. Not that that's too surprising considering how you just bottle everything up. Christ, Brian, what am I supposed to think?"
Brian considers telling Mikey to just shut the fuck up or get the hell out. He wants to badly enough. But he doesn't, ultimately because he feels badly for having upset Michael so much. Having spent most of his childhood hiding bruises and putting on a show, Brian supposes it's only natural that he keeps on doing it. Only the pain isn't physical anymore-that he can almost deal with-it's more emotional.
"Things just happened, Mikey. It wasn't a big deal."
"Wasn't a big deal? You two were like…like Superman and Lois Lane…or Spiderman and Mary Jane…or, I don't know-"
"Rage and JT?"
Michael's expression turns sour. "Yeah, and it was a big deal. You were crushed."
Alright, so he had been. He's man enough to admit it. While there's no way he could be considered anything close to a romantic, Brian had assumed that things would last between he and Justin until they could move in together again. They'd faced worse and came out on top; fuck, they'd faced a lot worse.
But they hadn't made it. Being two very physical people, spending so much time apart took its toll. Phone sex and webcaming could only take them so far, and as Justin's art and Kinnetik took off, there was only so much time available for the two of them to travel.
Their non-relationship didn't end with a bang like Brian would have anticipated; it just slowly puttered out until the two of them decided they couldn't take it anymore. Brian would have much preferred if it hadn't been that way, if their ending would have been explosive. It would be a lot easier to accept their not-break-up if there'd been a problem between them.
"Maybe I was," Brian concedes. "But it wasn't like the first time, if that's what you're thinking. He wasn't fucking around on me."
"You mean no more than usual," Michael corrects, smirking. "I just don't want to see you like that again, you know? You weren't yourself."
"I was fine, Mikey. You're being a drama princess."
So maybe that was only a half truth. He'd gotten to fine, eventually, but in those first few weeks it'd been tough. Justin's departure for New York had marked the beginning of the longest period of time he'd gone without fucking since he'd lost his virginity. The dry spell had lasted all of thirteen days before he'd broken down and went out specifically for a trick. Brian had assumed that his friends had been so busy in their own lives that they hadn't noticed. Apparently that was just wishful thinking.
"So what about now?"
"What about now?"
"Are you going after Justin?"
Brian quirks an eyebrow. "Mikey, when will you ever learn? I don't go after anyone."
"That, right there," Michael starts, pointing at him with a French fry. "That's you deflecting. I can tell because your do this blink-y thing when you're trying to avoid answering someone."
"No," Brian sneers, stealing the fry from Michael. "I'm not going after Justin."
"Because of Elise?"
"Because I don't fucking want to. Justin has his life. I have mine. It's as simple as that."
There's no fucking way it's as simple as that, but Mikey looks appeased, and that's enough for Brian.
~*~*~*~
In an honest attempt at stalling the inevitable, Brian works much later than he usually does. He can talk big all he wants-to Mikey, to Linds, even to Sunshine-but the fact of the matter is that he doesn't want to go over to Mother Taylor's. Not because of the drive, or because he has better things to do, but because Brian worries what seeing Justin again might do to him. If they'd been able to part on this morning's terms, he thinks he might have been able to talk himself into staying away. But without that luxury, he's totally fucked.
He does manage to convince himself to go and get it over with eventually. Brian smokes a cigarette in his Jeep before he walks up the driveway-blaming his nicotine addiction rather than his need to buck up the courage. When he does finally arrive at the door, he doesn't hesitate in knocking; there's no fucking way around this-seeing Justin-and he needs to stop acting like a total pussy. If anyone can master control of a situation, it's him. And he's not getting involved.
"Brian," Justin says, opening the door, his expression one of exhaustion.
Brian shoves the phone at him. "Here. And try not to forget it next time."
"Huh." He leans against the door jamb, biting his lip to keep from grinning. "And here I thought-if this morning was any indication-that there wasn't going to be a next time."
Fuck. There are so very few things he loathes more than Justin getting his balls. Lips thinning, Brian takes a step backward and goes to turn before the pressure of Justin's fingers on his bicep stops him.
"Why don't you come in." And it sounds a hell of a lot like a peace offering.
"I'm not fucking you."
"That's good," Justin says with a chuckle, "because I was only planning on offering you some hot cocoa. We have those marshmallows you like, and I know you can't resist that."
"Are you home alone?"
"Just me and Eli."
Brian had been hoping for a far different answer-something akin to a Taylor family reunion. Not that the kid isn't a big enough cock block, but being the little vegetable she is, a lot of things could go unnoticed. A lot of things like him pounding into her daddy's ass in the other room. And, holy shit, he should not be getting hard from that thought. Yet, he does because if there is one thing that gets him harder than blond twink, it's the taste of triumph over his sworn enemies.
But knowing Justin and having seen him interact with children before-namely his son-Brian doesn't think Justin will go for it. He's just wasting his fucking time. Brian turns to leave again, but Justin takes a step from the door and curiosity gets the best of him. Curiosity, and the desire to taste Justin's mouth again.
"Would you stop running away from me, Brian?"
"Who says I'm running?"
Justin's expression turns soft, and it nearly kills Brian. "No one has to say it. I just know."
"Of course you do," he says, rolling his eyes.
He feels like being much less bitchy towards him when Justin winds his arms around his shoulders. Brian figures that Sunshine probably knows it as they stand eye-to-eye, Justin having gained the height from the step that separates them.
"I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want to leave you this morning."
"But you did."
"I have a baby. She takes precedence over everything else."
Brian tries to jerk away-words stinging him, despite knowing how Justin felt all along. He wonders if Justin's ever felt this with him and Gus. But no. Justin is above irrational and unfounded jealousy. This is a problem uniquely his, probably a byproduct of his shit childhood-an all encompassing desire to be the center of someone's world. Christ knows he never got that from Jack or Joan.
"That doesn't mean I don't love you, Brian."
"Fuck love."
Justin sighs, disappointed. "Alright. Fuck love. By all means, throw mine away if you want, but it doesn't change a thing."
He doesn't want to be here anymore-never wanted to be in the first place-and finally breaks free of Justin's hold. Brian doesn't dare look back when he walks away, fears that it'll make him soft to Sunshine's attempt at reconciliation. But Sunshine can shove his apology for this morning-if that's even what this whole conversation was-up his ass.
When he gets back into his car, Brian grabs his phone from his pocket in order to call Mikey; he really wants to get completely fucked up at Babylon tonight. However, his fingers halt at the main screen of his cell as his eyes fall to the background picture. By all rights he should be used to seeing it now-a photo of him, Justin, and Gus taken about three years ago in Toronto. But in light of the fact of what's happening, he can't seem to get passed it.
They were really fucking happy back then; they'd had some semblance of a family between the three of them. Gus had even taken to calling Justin daddy, which had enthused Justin to no end. Brian supposes that's when he should have known that Sunshine would end up wandering down the path of breederhood-having a fucking kid, changing diapers instead of doing what he should be doing, namely fucking him.
Brian's sure that his Justin-and hell, when did he become such a goddamn lezzie-is somewhere inside this new and significantly less-improved version. Maybe he could convince Sunshine to go back to who he was before, drop the kid with her mommy or her other daddy-assuming, of course, that what's-his-name is still in the urchin's life. Maybe he could work harder this time to make things work between them.
Maybe none of it fucking matters because they'd still be five hours away from each other with lives and careers and goddamn urchins. But that doesn't stop him from wanting Justin. And not just for a quick fuck-though he sure as hell wants that too. Maybe he could…just for a awhile, just until Sunshine leaves for the Big Apple…well, maybe they could work out an arrangement. Now that he has Sunshine back in his system again, stopping seems like an impossibility.
Before he can talk himself out of it, Brian dials Justin's cell. He picks up on the second ring, and for the life of him, Brian doesn't know what the hell to say. It all works out in theory in his head, but what if Justin says no? What if Justin tells him exactly where he can shove it?
"Brian?"
He swallows hard. "It can't be like it was before."
"I never intended to give you the impression that I thought it would. I just miss being with you."
"I miss you too," he says before he really realizes what he's admitted to. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I saying?"
"You can say it. I won't tell any of our friends that The Great Brian Kinney has emotions just like the rest of us lay people. Even though I suspect that they already know it and just don't have the heart to let you know that they've caught on."
Brian altogether ignores the remark and continues before he can think better of it. "I want to see you. While you're in town, I mean. I want to see you and fuck you. But I can't-"
"I know, Brian. I thought we already went through this at Babylon. I'm not some seventeen year old kid anymore. I understand what you're offering."
"Sunshine, I wish-"
"I know."
Closing his eyes and resting his head against the head rest, Brian falls silent. Why does this have to be so goddamn complicated? For now, he's got what he wanted. But what happens in a week or two? What happens when Justin goes home after Christmas? And when the fuck has Brian Kinney ever not lived in the now?
"Why don't you stick around? I have the water on for cocoa. It'll be ready in just a few minutes. The door is unlocked, so come on in."
"Yeah, okay."
When Brian walks through the door, the Taylors' living room looks a lot like it had the last time he was here. It'd been a few months ago when Molly left for Dartmouth. He'd come to see his latest Taylor charge off and was genuinely going to miss seeing her bossy ass around Kinnetik. He was losing a fucking fabulous intern, but she would do him proud in business school. Since Molly's departure, he hasn't been over much where once he was over several times a week.
After toeing off his shoes, Brian slips off his coat and drapes it over the back of one of the recliners. He can hear Justin banging around in the kitchen. And for as good of a cook as Justin is, he makes a hell of a lot of noise in the process. Always has. Moving towards the kitchen, hazel eyes glance over a tiny form buried in equally as tiny blankets on the couch.
The urchin.
He thinks to ignore her, but he's genuinely caught off guard by the sight of her. In his limited experience, if the kid's eyes are open, then she's ridiculously animate-crawling and giggling and smiling. So to see her laid up on the couch-her small head sunk into an overlarge pillow and nearly unmoving-is a definite first.
Despite himself, he takes a few steps her way to assess the competition. When she sees him, she tilts her head backwards to get a better look and then shifts her gaze in disinterest back to her kiddie movie, her little arms tightening their hold around what looks to be a fucking hedgehog stuffed animal. Her nose is red and swollen, her eyes heavy and pinkish. She wheezes a little as she breathes and for a split second, he almost pities her.
"What's wrong with the kid?" Brian asks as he walks into the kitchen.
Justin turns from where he's pouring cocoa mix into some cups. "Allergies. Though we're not sure if it was Mom's powder that exploded everywhere this morning or if it's the orchids. It's hard to say, but hopefully her normal medicine will take care of it." Then Justin offers him a small smile. "Thanks for asking."
He leans against the counter. "I wasn't asking because I give a shit."
"Then why did you ask?"
He doesn't know. It's not because he gives a damn about her that's for sure. In fact, as he thinks about it, he likes her better this way. At least she's not making Justin chase her around the house and therefore taking time away from them. Brian glances over in her direction again, sees her chewing on the hedgehog's ear, and very much decides it's not because he cares. Because he doesn't. At all.
"It's called conversation, Sunshine. I know you probably don't get much of that these days."
"Uh huh," Justin says, brow raised, and he's totally not buying it. "You know, you should really try to be a little nicer when it comes to her. She is my daughter."
"What's it matter?"
Justin steps dangerously close to him, his fingers winding around Brian's tie and tugging, bringing his lips to Brian's ear. "Because if you keep acting like a pissy piece of shit, I might take my ass elsewhere. And I don't think either of us wants that."
Sunshine's bedroom voice-regardless of what he's actually saying-has always been a weak point for Brian. That, coupled with a threat of withholding much desired sex, makes for a guaranteed approval to just about any request. Brian's never really decided where the urchin falls on that line of approval, but considering that Justin's not asking for a bouncing bundle of joy and instead just toleration of the one he already has, Brian might be able to comply. Especially if Justin keeps palming him through the front of his pants. Goddamn.
"Understood?" Justin asks.
Brian clears his throat. "Yeah."
Suddenly sunshine-y again, Justin returns to his cocoa stirring. "Lucky for you I'm not expecting miracles."
Yeah, lucky for him because he sure as hell isn't going to get down on the floor with the urchin and play. If that's what it took to get into Justin's ass again, it might never happen. But cold toleration Brian is capable of. After all, he's dealt well enough with Mel all these years.
"So when are you going back?"
Justin hands him his cup of cocoa-piled high with a mini mountain of marshmallows-and deftly avoids looking at him. That's Sunshine-speak for avoidance, despite how he may smile and pretend like everything is just fine. If it weren't for the piping hot contents of his mug, he might have grabbed Justin by the arm and made him answer. Because as of right now, anything that comes out of Justin's mouth might as well be bullshit.
"Sometime around New Years. We'll definitely be here for Eli's birthday."
Brian must have a blank look on his face because Justin stops mid-way into the living room and scowls. "You don't fucking remember, do you?"
He ought to. It was the end of the world as he knew it. Brian does remember a late night call from Justin a few days after Christmas-he hadn't be able to come home because the urchin was past-due-and Justin's voice filled with emotion. Initially, he'd thought something had gone wrong-why the fuck else would Justin be calling him. It turned out that everyone was just fine and that he'd wanted to talk about the night that Gus was born for some clearly lesbianic reason. Brian still doesn't understand that.
"Her birthday is the twenty-seventh. She'll be-"
"-a year old. I know that much, Sunshine."
He follows Justin-now pissy, Brian can tell-to the couch but keeps his distance as he sits. Justin winds up sitting at the urchin's feet, putting a good foot between them. Brian suddenly feels very unwelcome, but sips his cocoa anyway. He'll be damned before he leaves Justin when he's in a mood; there's no telling when he'll be forgiven if he just leaves.
"So am I getting an invitation to this birthday?" Brian asks to break the tension, not because he actually gives a fuck.
"I didn't think you'd want one, considering."
"Sunshine." Brian scoots closer to Justin, wrapping an arm around his slight shoulders; physical contact being one of the best ways to warm him up. "You're acting like a fucking ice queen. I don't understand why it is that I'm expected to know when your kid was born. It's not like I'm her other daddy."
"She doesn't have another daddy," Justin says, tersely.
Maybe he hadn't taken the best approach to the situation after all. Brian supposes he should have known better than to bring up something like that, especially when he knows very little about Justin's arrangement with his ex-most of it second hand knowledge. They hadn't been together long before they'd decided to have a kid. Probably all Sunshine's idea, romantic that he is. And apparently, they hadn't been together much afterward either. Brian didn't even know what the fuck this James guy looked like.
Considering that talking is getting him no where tonight, Brian leans over to Justin, his hand placed on Justin's neck. He pushes Justin to meet his mouth, and predictably Sunshine is resistant at first. But a flick of the tongue and a nibble to the lips has him sighing and moving against him.
As his hand slips across Justin's thigh, Brian has completely forgotten about the goddamn kid until she starts whimpering. And it's only a couple whimpers in before it turns into a full-blown cry. The sound grates on his nerves, as does Justin pulling away from him.
Urchin - 1. Kinney - 0.
"What's her deal?" Brian asks irritably.
Justin lifts her from the couch and sets her on his lap, blanket and hedgehog fisted tightly in her hands. "I don't know."
"I do. She's a professional cock block."
Justin gives him a sideways glance-thankfully one without heat-and starts to bounce her. It doesn't do much to placate her wails. You'd think someone was tearing her fucking fingers off one by one. Drama queen.
"Eli. Eli." Justin shifts her, tucking her into his arm, and tries putting her pacifier in her mouth. "Come on, Elise."
"She's a lost cause."
"You're not helping." Justin adjusts her again. "Why don't you try to do that thing you used to do with Gus? The funny voices. She might like it."
"I never did funny voices."
"That you'll own up to." Justin juts his lower lip out, and Brian wants nothing more than to suck on it. "Please. I've been dealing with her crabby pants all day. I'm exhausted and at my wit's end."
Reluctantly, Brian clears his throat, leans down a little closer to her, and proceeds with the very best monster voice he can muster. "If you don't stop crying, I'll smother you in your sleep."
Sunshine laughs, and it seems like Brian's threat was less than impressive. But after a second, the kid's cries turn into small hiccups, her bloodshot eyes peering up at him. Brian's still a little bit amazed by how blue they are, by how much she looks like Justin minus the blonde curls.
"You're a miracle worker," Justin says, lifting Brian's chin to kiss him as reward. "It took me half an hour to calm her down last time."
"It doesn't take much to excite you anymore, does it? So do I get a blowjob for my troubles?"
Justin rests his head against Brian's shoulder. "If you take rain checks."
"That's not usually my policy."
"Well it's not usually my policy to blow men in front of my daughter, so it looks like you're out of luck."
"I said usually."
"Ohh. Are we invoking the Blond Twink Clause of 2001 to the Kinney Operating Manual?"
Brian nuzzles him, grinning. "We might be."
Just as Sunshine goes to kiss him again, the urchin makes some sort of noise that diverts Justin's attention back to her. Brian can't help but to look-scowl, really-into her general direction, her wide eyes locked on him in curiosity.
"Can you say 'Brian', Elise?"
Brian throws Sunshine a look. "You act like she can talk."
"She can! She says 'Mama' and 'Dada', 'hi' and 'bye', 'no' and 'Mug'."
"Mug?"
Justin grabs her stuffed hedgehog. "This is Mug. Her uncle Milo got it for her when she was born."
"Uncle Milo? Were his parents stoned when they named him?"
"He's Delaney's twin brother. And I don't think it's a bad name at all."
Brian snorts. "Then your kid ought to be lucky you settled for Elise."
With a roll of his eyes, Justin turns his attention to the urchin and wipes some of the tears off her cheeks. She looks like she's going to fall asleep, and Brian thinks he could only be so lucky. If she goes to bed, he might be able to get a blowjob out of Sunshine after all. His cock stiffens with the thought. Mostly, that's why he tolerates having Justin cuddling against him in a picture perfect display of domesticated bliss from any stranger's perspective. But Brian sure as hell knows better and hopes that Sunshine is enjoying it while it lasts.
As it turns out, the urchin falls asleep before the end of Finding Nemo. Her neck looks really fucking uncomfortable with the way she leans up against Justin, but Brian wouldn't think about suggesting moving it. Somehow he imagines the urchin being as grumpy as her dad if woken up in the middle of a deep sleep. And judging from the way she snores softly, it's deep.
"Can you hold her while I get her bed ready?" Justin whispers.
"Yes, I'm physically capable."
"Brian, don't be an ass. Will you?"
He sure as hell doesn't want to, but the look Justin is giving him-a cross between pleading and scathing-tells him he hasn't much of a choice. As if she's some newborn, Sunshine eases her into his arms. Brian doesn't think it would make a goddamn difference if he'd thrown her; she's nothing but dead weight, completely knocked out.
It's only after Justin walks quietly down the hall into the spare, safely out of sight, that Brian dares look at her. He imagined her to be heavier than she actually is, which gives him the impression that she's a lot less indestructible than he once thought. Now he just thinks of her as some sort of helpless, baby bird. Not a good thing-that's for fucking sure. Definitely not a good thing when he recalls his own son being this small.
Brian does manage to pull his eyes away from her when he hears Justin coming back into the room. He'd rather be dead than caught studying her. But by the looks of things, Sunshine figures he has because he's got some stupid look on his face.
"What?"
Justin shakes his head. "I don't think you realize how hot you look holding small children."
"Does it get your ovaries all aflutter, Sunshine?"
"You know," he says, carefully picking up the urchin, "that's the moment that I fell in love with you. Completely and unequivocally."
"What moment?"
"When I saw you holding Gus for the first time."
Brian thinks Justin misses the eye roll since he's already on his way to put the urchin to bed. Justin can be such a goddamn muncher sometimes that Brian questions where he went wrong. After all, it's not as if he could pin point the exact moment that he fell for Justin. He'd been denying it for so long that it's probably some fucking repressed memory at this point.
While he waits for Sunshine, Brian stretches out on the couch. It's the first chance he's had all day to just fucking relax without having to worry about clients or not-ex-boyfriends or veggie-headed urchins. Mother Taylor sure as hell knows how to pick comfortable couches-though still a far cry from his own Italia Moda-and Brian thinks that he might be able to fall asleep.
Or could have, if it weren't for Justin taking the opportunity to pounce on him. They're a tangle of misplaced elbows and knees for a few moments, Brian bitching about it constantly as they shift on the couch. Justin finally settles on top of Brian, wedged halfway between the back of the couch and Brian's side.
"You know," Brian begins, eyes closed, "I think you might be losing your perfect twink physique. I don't remember you weighing this much, Sunshine."
Justin laughs. "Fuck you, Brian. You don't mean it. You're just trying to be a bastard."
"Trying?"
"Yeah, and failing." Justin traces Brian's lips with his finger. "Because I don't remember you complaining about it last night. In fact, I seem to remember the opposite. What was it? 'Oh, Sunshine, fuck, that's-'"
"Shut the hell up," he says, cupping a hand over Justin's mouth as he peers out of the corner of his eye. "And if you find that particularly challenging, I'll give you something to put in your mouth."
"Mmm, that sounds nice."
Brian would believe it, too, if it weren't for the fact that Justin looks half-asleep, his eyes already closed and contented smile on his lips. He shifts around a little, but Sunshine just moves with him, head still firmly planted on Brian's shoulder.
"Sunshine? My blowjob?"
"Just give me a minute. You're really comfy, you know?"
He groans, already able to foresee where this is headed. The very same place it headed ages ago when Justin had come home past three in the morning after a play date with Mikey and their comic books. And Brian isn't entirely sure his ego can take another bruising like that. To this day, Justin is the only person who has ever fallen asleep on him mid-rim job. Or mid-anything, for that matter.
"You must be really tired. Normally it's a job trying to keep your mouth off my dick."
"Well somebody kept me up all night. Then I came home to a sick kid," Justin mumbles.
"Have you been getting decent sleep lately?" Brian asks, tone suddenly more serious.
"I manage."
"Justin."
Brian's very well aware that all this questioning makes him sound a hell of a lot like Deb or Mother Taylor. He can't help it though, not after one phone call not too long after Justin had left for New York. It had been one of the more frightening moments of Brian's life-getting some call from the hospital about Justin. He'd immediately thought the worst, but it turned out that Justin had been admitted for exhaustion and dehydration.
That still didn't stop him from getting the next flight out to LaGuardia. Or from sleeping in some fucking torture device of a chair in Justin's hospital room that night. Or from canceling all of his business meetings for the next four days just so he could stay in New York to take care of Justin. From a hotel room, though, because he sure as hell wasn't staying in Justin's shithole of an apartment.
Not that Justin has needed it, but Brian's not been around to watch over him for the past two years. He has no idea how Justin is living, who he's living with, or how he's doing. In his limited experience in child rearing, Brian can assume that, regardless of any of that information, Justin's short on sleep. And if he's pushing himself like he typically does-the little shit-then Sunshine can probably use any spare minutes he can get.
And with all of that weighing on him, Brian says gently, "Hey, I think I'm going to head out."
Justin stirs, lifts his head to look at Brian. "What? How come? What about your blow job?"
"I told you. I take rain checks from blond twinks with great asses."
There's a moment that Brian thinks Justin is going to demand to be fucked, but it's just a brief flicker of retaliation across his face. Instead, Justin lies down against Brian once again.
"Then stay with me."
"I don't do couches, Sunshine."
"We'll go to my bed."
"Maybe some other time."
Justin pouts. "You never stay with me."
"I do. Just never at your place. And why break a ten year tradition now?"
Brian dips his head down to capture Justin's mouth. Sunshine moans, and it almost has Brian regretting his decision to leave. But he's the more practical, the more fucking reasonable, of the two of them, and he won't be the one responsible for putting Justin into the hospital.
Before the kiss turns heated and hands start to wander, Brian gently pushes Justin away and stands. Blue eyes blink up at him, tired yet disappointed. Whether in himself or in him, Brian will never know.
"I want to see you again."
"You will, Sunshine."
"Can we do lunch someday? I'll let you take me out for greasy hamburgers and fries."
He almost forgot how much he loves Justin's sleep-drugged smiles, how his shirts always ride up on his hips and exposes his stomach. Sunshine's a fucking mess when he's tired, though maybe in the sexiest way possible. It's almost enough to make him want to stay.
Endnote: So I've started chapter 4, but there may be a slight delay in finishing it due to the fact that I'm going to try to participate in the QAF Gusmas challenge over on IJ. It's for charity so definitely a worthy cause. As always, lovelies, I appreciate each and every one of your comments and your support.
Previous Chapters >>> Continue
Author: museme87
Pairing(s): Brian/Justin, Ben/Michael, Mel/Lindsay, Ted/Blake, Deb/Carl
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Over the course of his and Justin's seven year non-relationship, Brian had never been one to say no to a third party addition. But when the addition is far more permanent and redefines playroom for the worst, Brian thinks twice about rekindling their old flame. [Post 5.13]
Chapter: 3
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 8,378
Warnings: strong language, sexual situations, brief mention of past Justin/other
Author's Note: Sorry for the small delay in posting this chapter. Real life got in the way of both mine and my beta's lives. I hope the wait was worth it, and thank you all, again, for your support!
Brian stretches in bed, working the sleepiness from his limbs, before settling his arms around Justin again. He buries his nose in blond hair as Sunshine nestles in closer to him, barely awake. While it's not exactly their well-established morning routine, Brian somehow talks himself into settling for this. It's not fucking cuddling; he doesn't do cuddling. But this sort of lying next to each other, legs tangled and arms draped, isn't so bad.
Justin's breathing turns slow and heavy again as he drifts back to sleep. As his fingers run up and down Justin's back, Brian glances over at the alarm clock-8:24. He's not late for work yet-if a CEO can be late-but he'll never make it in on time if he doesn't get his ass up now. But, said ass being possessively cupped by Justin's hand, it's not happening. He'll have to call in to Cynthia as soon as he can maneuver around a lifeless, boneless Justin.
When his fingers trail across Justin's tail bone, Brian hears Justin sigh and feels him smile against his collarbone. Grinning to himself, he repeats the movement and that sigh turns suddenly needy. Justin fidgets into a half-woken state-fully woken in certain areas-while Brian dips a finger between Justin's cheeks.
"Good morning, Sunshine," Brian says, all sexy-sweet.
Justin gasps, pained. "Shit. I'm sore. Stop that, Brian."
Reluctantly, Brian withdraws his finger. "Do you know what that means?"
"Hmm?"
"You're not getting your ass pounded frequently enough," he whispers into Justin's ear. "It's a shame to let such a thing of beauty go to waste. A real tragedy."
"And the major character death in this work happens to be my sex life," Justin mumbles against his chest.
"Mmm, not if I have anything to say about it."
Brian rolls them over, Justin now trapped securely beneath him. Their eyes meet as Brian runs his fingers through Justin's hair and leans in for a kiss. Moaning, Justin opens his mouth to Brian's tongue. Tongues tangle, push, seek as Brian presses Justin further into the bed. When Justin's nails dig into his back, Brian gasps, breaking off their kiss.
"Please tell me you don't have to be anywhere anytime soon," Brian says, nipping at Justin's jaw.
"Mom has a Grammy day planned for her and Eli, so not really."
Briefly, Brian thinks to ask why in the hell Justin's given his kid a boy's name for a nickname, but then realizes he doesn't give a fuck. Not when it comes to her. What he decidedly does give a fuck about is Justin talking about the urchin while in his bed. In a desperate attempt to get Sunshine to shut up, Brian kisses his way down Justin's body and takes his cock deep into his mouth.
Justin sucks in a sharp breath at the sudden movement and holds it as Brian begins to suck him off. Brian's missed this-having Justin's cock heavy on his tongue, taking in the heady taste. He could have never anticipated wanting to suck one cock, drive into one ass for the rest of his life-maybe he still can't, not completely-but Justin brings him close to imagining it.
Sunshine exhales, shuddering. "Brian, fuck."
"I thought you said your ass was too sore," he says, releasing Justin's dick with a wet pop.
"Not what I-ah!-meant."
As Brian begins to suck with abandon, Justin squirms, his thighs tense as if trying to resist bucking into Brian's mouth. Brian can tell by the way Justin's hips quiver beneath his hands. It's almost a game for him, seeing how far he can push before Justin completely unravels.
"Brian," Justin pants. "Brian."
When Justin struggles to prop himself up on his elbows, Brian's eyes flick up to see what's wrong. By the look of Sunshine's heated gaze, nothing. But as Brian shifts to return to his blow job, Justin's fingers on his cheek stop him.
"My ass is sore, but…"
Brian snorts. "In your dreams, Sunshine."
"Brian!" Justin flops back down.
Foreseeing Justin's mood going south-and not the kind of south that Brian usually prefers-he crawls back up to Justin, licking and biting him every so often to keep him pliable. Hazel and blue meet briefly before Sunshine looks away. Brian grins, kissing the corner of Justin's mouth.
"You're not going to waste valuable fucking time pouting, are you?"
Justin peers up at him. "I could ask the same of you."
"Stop being a little twat."
Shifting, Brian rolls his hips, their cocks aligning perfectly. He'll give Justin props for trying to resist at first, but he's not known as the hottest fuck on Liberty Avenue for nothing. Soon Justin's snapping and slipping against him, and Brian's confident that he's won this battle.
At least until one of their cells vibrates.
He tries his best to just fucking ignore it. It's probably Cynthia wanting to know where the hell he is. But Justin seems much less willing to let it go, trying to wriggle his way from underneath him to find his phone. Brian stops him with a forceful kiss, smothering his protest between their lips. His hips move more quickly against Justin, but Sunshine isn't having it.
"I have to see if that's me."
When he finally frees himself from most of Brian's weight, Justin reaches over the side of the bed for his phone. The moment that it's confirmed that it is Justin's and not his, Brian groans inwardly.
"Don't answer it." Brian makes purposefully needy eyes at him. "Please. I'll let you fuck me." Seeing that it's not quite working as well as it should, he nuzzles Justin and whispers, "I want you to fuck me, Justin. I want your dick in my ass. I want to feel you-"
"Look, I appreciate the sentiments and would be more than happy to take you up on the offer, but I have to answer the fucking phone first. Something might be wrong with Elise."
His lips thinning at the denial, Brian rolls over to the other side of the bed and fumes. God damn, mother fucking… He glares at Justin as he sits up and redials whoever called. As amazing at last night was, he shouldn't have gotten involved again, even if said involvement began and ended at fucking. And after as many times as Justin has left him, he should be used to this sort of rejection. But he isn't, and it hurts like hell.
Just as he moves to get up and finish himself off in the bathroom-giving Justin time to get the fuck out-he feels Justin's fingers lace through his. Despite his best efforts, Brian can't stop himself from looking over at Justin, whose apologetic gaze is fixed on him.
"Hey, Mom," Justin says into the phone. "No, sorry, I didn't make it to the phone in time. Is something wrong?...Shit…No, it's not a problem…Mom, don't apologize…"
His even tone tells Brian that nothing is wrong with the urchin, which gives him a little hope. But then comes the disappointment, the sorry look in his eyes, and Brian knows that this morning has officially ended. He really is tempted to run away from this, from both Justin and these lesbianic feelings. Justin's fingers tighten their hold on him, though, anchoring him in place.
Smiling, Justin says, "Yeah, it was nice…I stayed over at Brian's…No, I…Mom." Justin shifts the end of the phone away from his mouth and, blushing, tells him, "Mom sends her love."
"Tell your mother she has shit timing."
"Brian sends his love, too…Yeah…No, just give me time to get dressed and I'll head home…Alright, bye."
Tossing the phone into the mass of waded up sheets and duvet, Justin turns to Brian. He looks away immediately, trying to urge Justin to get up and get out before he becomes some sentimental idiot. But Justin doesn't and instead leans over to kiss him tenderly on the lips.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry's-"
"-bullshit. I know."
"Stop finishing my sentences."
Justin lies down next to him, fucking cuddles up. Brian shoots him a look, but he seems altogether unfazed by it. Not that that's a newsflash. It's been ages since Justin's been properly ruffled by him.
"Some big shot client wants my mom to show him some properties at ten, and he's not taking no for an answer. I have to get home so she can leave."
"Then leave."
"Not until you stop being a pissy little bitch about this. Brian, I don't want to go. Trust me."
"I said leave."
He frowns, and Brian thinks that maybe he should stop punishing Sunshine for this. Because Brian gets that Justin would rather stick around, fucking and getting fucked by him. But he can't, and all because of the kid. He knew he was fighting a losing battle when it came to her. But, he wants Justin-he can own up to that now-and he doesn't want to have to share.
"You know I lo-"
"Don't, Sunshine."
"And you love me too," Justin continues, persistent little shit that he is. "You said so last night."
"It doesn't count if you're shooting your load."
It's apparently enough to piss Justin off because he rolls out of bed, pinching Brian's side in the process. Brian yelps, scowling as Justin quickly gathers up his clothes and throws them on. He still looks good in them this morning, thoroughly fucked and deliciously disheveled. Brian's softening cock twitches as proof, as if he needed it.
When Justin finishes, he stands at the side of the bed. Brian doesn't know what to say to him. Everything seems to fall short of ideal. Being an ass isn't going to get him anywhere, though he'd like to come up with some sort of remark just to make Justin feel his disappointment. And telling him he had a great time would be honest, but fails to keep up with appearances. In the end, he just let's Sunshine make the move.
"I guess I'll see you around."
Brian shrugs. "Probably."
After Justin leaves and he puts in a call to the office to cancel his morning appointments, Brian takes a long shower. He tries to scrub the remnants of the past twelve hours away, dragging the soap roughly across his skin. The water runs cold before Brian ever feels cleansed.
As he's walking back into the bedroom, his cell begins to ring. One look tells him it's Mother Taylor's house phone. He wonders why the hell she's calling him-maybe to tear him a new asshole for fucking her baby boy, though Brian had thought they'd gotten past that ages ago. Women are a curious breed, though, and Brian readily admits to having limited knowledge of their inner workings.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Sorry to bother you, but I think I left my cell there."
Justin. Christ, and just when he thought he'd gotten rid of him. Pulling a cigarette from his case along with a lighter, Brian sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn't bother thinking up a response until he's taken a long drag off of it.
"And what would you like me to do about that, Sunshine?"
"If you're still at the loft, can you look around for it?" Justin huffs.
"I suppose," he drawls, acting put out, as he begins to move the pillows around.
"Thanks."
Having no luck in the pillows, Brian searches at the foot of the bed and wonders if maybe Justin hadn't left his phone on purpose. Not that Justin ever needed some pathetic excuse to come calling again in the past. And considering the thing is practically attached to his hand every waking minute of the day-or at least it had been when they were not-dating-Brian doubts he could deal with the withdrawal. As he lifts the sheets on Justin's side of the bed, he finds the cell.
"Got it right here."
"Can I ask another favor of you then?"
Brian lies down, taking another puff off his cigarette. "Do I sound like I'm in a particularly generous mood?"
"Do you ever?" Justin sighs, sounding tired. "If it isn't too much trouble, could you bring it by Mom's tonight? I'd come get it, but I'm stranded until God knows when. And I'm expecting a call from my agent. It's really important, Brian. I wouldn't bother you with this if it weren't."
"I haven't heard you beg this much since that night at the Mandarin Oriental when I had your balls-"
"Brian…"
"You do remember it, don't you?"
Brian does. Perfectly. It would have been their one year anniversary had they gone through with the wedding. He'd secretly planned it-ordered a suite at the Mandarin Oriental, reserved dinner at Le Bernardin, showed up unexpectedly at Justin's work to sweep him off his feet. When Justin asked him, he'd explained it was all to celebrate them coming to their senses before it was too late. Brian doesn't think Sunshine bought it, and probably rightly so. Because more than anything, Brian had shown up to prove something to the both of them-as promised, one year later, they were still together.
"Of course I remember. It was ridiculously romantic. I'm convinced to this day that it was Emmett's idea all along."
"Oh fuck you, Sunshine."
"You did. Last night. Now about my phone."
Rolling his eyes, he hesitates to answer Justin. Brian wonders if Justin is being serious about thinking it was all Emmy Lou's plan. It wasn't. He can do ridiculously romantic if he wants. He has before-one time in particular-but Justin doesn't remember that. And maybe Brian can admit to himself that that's the reason why he held back on romantic gestures afterward. Beyond the safety of Liberty Avenue, he could never know what display of affection would get Justin another bat to the head.
Brian feels suddenly sick and clears his throat. "I'll bring it over after work."
Without waiting for Justin's response, he hangs up and drops the phone on the bed.
~*~*~*~
Brian's not felt so unfocused at work for a very long time. There are at least three different sets of papers requiring his signature, not to mention all the lackeys that could use a fucking fire lit under their collective ass. Kinnetik is doing well-exceedingly well, actually-but it sure as hell won't be if he doesn't pull his shit together.
Still, he sighs and lets his eyes fall heavily on Justin's phone where it lays on his desk. He'd once dreamed-in those very early days of their separation-that Kinnetik would be such a fucking success that he could afford to open a New York office. He and Justin might have been able to fall into their old routine, or something like it. And just as it's starting to look like he might be able to take Kinnetik there, Brian's realizes that there's no point. He ought to stop chasing dreams.
He'll never know why he does it, other than the fact that he's snooped through Justin's stuff for ages now to try to be close to him, to understand. But, Brian snatches the phone up and works easily enough through the security code. Sunshine can be so goddamn predictable at times.
In all honesty, as he stares at the screen, Brian has no clue what he's going to do. Read his texts? Look through his call list? Figure out if there is a special someone in his life nowadays? Not that it fucking matters. He aimlessly punches and presses the screen until he finds his way into Justin's pictures.
Unsurprisingly, he's greeted with photo after photo of the urchin at various ages. One in particular has him stopping-and grinning, before he suppresses it. It's just Sunshine and the kid, doing their Sunshine-y thing. She looks quite a bit younger, her chubby cheek pressed tightly against Justin's as they try to cram their faces into the frame. But it's not her that has him smiling against his better judgment; it's Justin-how happy he looks, how content. Brian's never really seen that look on him before, and it kills him to know that he never has and never will be the reason for that expression.
"Hey, you busy?"
Brian sets the phone down quickly and looks up to find Mikey in his doorway. "Not really."
Sheepishly, Michael steps into the office before holding up a take-out bag from the diner. "I was over getting lunch and Ma said you hadn't been in for your usual. She thought you might be working yourself to death."
"This is her apology for tearing me a new asshole on Sunday, isn't it?"
"Probably. She sent enough lemon bars to feed an army. Overcompensation being her poison of choice." He shrugs, smirking. "It could have been worse. Today's special is meatloaf."
Michael and Brian settle into the sofa for lunch-not unlike they had when they were teens-and Michael chatters on for ages about a new comic collection he just bought for the store. Rare editions…so expensive…great condition…Brian, you're not going to believe it…yadda, yadda. The familiarity of the situation comforts him.
"So Em called me last night," Michael prompts, eyes knowing, before biting into his sandwich.
Brian raises an eyebrow. "Let me guess. He wanted to let you know that Justin and I went home together."
"Well mostly he called to make sure that we got the invitations to Ted and Blake's stag party. It's this Saturday, so don't forget or try to come up with some snarky excuse about visiting your Grandma. We all know she's dead." Michael takes another bite. "But yeah, he might have mentioned that too. He said you looked pretty happy."
"I was going to fuck all night. Damn right I was happy."
"With Justin."
"What?"
"You were going to fuck all night with Justin."
"That's what I said," Brian barks, exasperated.
"No-" Michael pauses, waving his hands around as if trying to summon the words from thin air. "It's just…not the same with Boy Wonder. The way you look, I mean. Like you're a whole different kind of happy or something. Anyway, that's not the point. What happened?"
"Um, let's see." Brian rolls his eyes. "I took him home, and he blew me in the kitchen. Then-"
"Cut the crap. That's not what I meant, and you know it."
He does know it, and judging from Michael's kicked-puppy expression, there's no chance he's going to get away with leaving it at that. Brian has never been terribly effective against it, which has gotten him in trouble more times than he cares to think about.
"It was alright," Brian says finally, before shoving a whole lemon bar in his mouth.
"Are you two getting back together?"
"Why the fuck would you think that?"
"I don't know," Michael says sarcastically, voice raised. "Because you never fucking tell us anything anymore, so we're just left to assume stuff. I don't even know why you two broke up in the first place. Not that that's too surprising considering how you just bottle everything up. Christ, Brian, what am I supposed to think?"
Brian considers telling Mikey to just shut the fuck up or get the hell out. He wants to badly enough. But he doesn't, ultimately because he feels badly for having upset Michael so much. Having spent most of his childhood hiding bruises and putting on a show, Brian supposes it's only natural that he keeps on doing it. Only the pain isn't physical anymore-that he can almost deal with-it's more emotional.
"Things just happened, Mikey. It wasn't a big deal."
"Wasn't a big deal? You two were like…like Superman and Lois Lane…or Spiderman and Mary Jane…or, I don't know-"
"Rage and JT?"
Michael's expression turns sour. "Yeah, and it was a big deal. You were crushed."
Alright, so he had been. He's man enough to admit it. While there's no way he could be considered anything close to a romantic, Brian had assumed that things would last between he and Justin until they could move in together again. They'd faced worse and came out on top; fuck, they'd faced a lot worse.
But they hadn't made it. Being two very physical people, spending so much time apart took its toll. Phone sex and webcaming could only take them so far, and as Justin's art and Kinnetik took off, there was only so much time available for the two of them to travel.
Their non-relationship didn't end with a bang like Brian would have anticipated; it just slowly puttered out until the two of them decided they couldn't take it anymore. Brian would have much preferred if it hadn't been that way, if their ending would have been explosive. It would be a lot easier to accept their not-break-up if there'd been a problem between them.
"Maybe I was," Brian concedes. "But it wasn't like the first time, if that's what you're thinking. He wasn't fucking around on me."
"You mean no more than usual," Michael corrects, smirking. "I just don't want to see you like that again, you know? You weren't yourself."
"I was fine, Mikey. You're being a drama princess."
So maybe that was only a half truth. He'd gotten to fine, eventually, but in those first few weeks it'd been tough. Justin's departure for New York had marked the beginning of the longest period of time he'd gone without fucking since he'd lost his virginity. The dry spell had lasted all of thirteen days before he'd broken down and went out specifically for a trick. Brian had assumed that his friends had been so busy in their own lives that they hadn't noticed. Apparently that was just wishful thinking.
"So what about now?"
"What about now?"
"Are you going after Justin?"
Brian quirks an eyebrow. "Mikey, when will you ever learn? I don't go after anyone."
"That, right there," Michael starts, pointing at him with a French fry. "That's you deflecting. I can tell because your do this blink-y thing when you're trying to avoid answering someone."
"No," Brian sneers, stealing the fry from Michael. "I'm not going after Justin."
"Because of Elise?"
"Because I don't fucking want to. Justin has his life. I have mine. It's as simple as that."
There's no fucking way it's as simple as that, but Mikey looks appeased, and that's enough for Brian.
~*~*~*~
In an honest attempt at stalling the inevitable, Brian works much later than he usually does. He can talk big all he wants-to Mikey, to Linds, even to Sunshine-but the fact of the matter is that he doesn't want to go over to Mother Taylor's. Not because of the drive, or because he has better things to do, but because Brian worries what seeing Justin again might do to him. If they'd been able to part on this morning's terms, he thinks he might have been able to talk himself into staying away. But without that luxury, he's totally fucked.
He does manage to convince himself to go and get it over with eventually. Brian smokes a cigarette in his Jeep before he walks up the driveway-blaming his nicotine addiction rather than his need to buck up the courage. When he does finally arrive at the door, he doesn't hesitate in knocking; there's no fucking way around this-seeing Justin-and he needs to stop acting like a total pussy. If anyone can master control of a situation, it's him. And he's not getting involved.
"Brian," Justin says, opening the door, his expression one of exhaustion.
Brian shoves the phone at him. "Here. And try not to forget it next time."
"Huh." He leans against the door jamb, biting his lip to keep from grinning. "And here I thought-if this morning was any indication-that there wasn't going to be a next time."
Fuck. There are so very few things he loathes more than Justin getting his balls. Lips thinning, Brian takes a step backward and goes to turn before the pressure of Justin's fingers on his bicep stops him.
"Why don't you come in." And it sounds a hell of a lot like a peace offering.
"I'm not fucking you."
"That's good," Justin says with a chuckle, "because I was only planning on offering you some hot cocoa. We have those marshmallows you like, and I know you can't resist that."
"Are you home alone?"
"Just me and Eli."
Brian had been hoping for a far different answer-something akin to a Taylor family reunion. Not that the kid isn't a big enough cock block, but being the little vegetable she is, a lot of things could go unnoticed. A lot of things like him pounding into her daddy's ass in the other room. And, holy shit, he should not be getting hard from that thought. Yet, he does because if there is one thing that gets him harder than blond twink, it's the taste of triumph over his sworn enemies.
But knowing Justin and having seen him interact with children before-namely his son-Brian doesn't think Justin will go for it. He's just wasting his fucking time. Brian turns to leave again, but Justin takes a step from the door and curiosity gets the best of him. Curiosity, and the desire to taste Justin's mouth again.
"Would you stop running away from me, Brian?"
"Who says I'm running?"
Justin's expression turns soft, and it nearly kills Brian. "No one has to say it. I just know."
"Of course you do," he says, rolling his eyes.
He feels like being much less bitchy towards him when Justin winds his arms around his shoulders. Brian figures that Sunshine probably knows it as they stand eye-to-eye, Justin having gained the height from the step that separates them.
"I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want to leave you this morning."
"But you did."
"I have a baby. She takes precedence over everything else."
Brian tries to jerk away-words stinging him, despite knowing how Justin felt all along. He wonders if Justin's ever felt this with him and Gus. But no. Justin is above irrational and unfounded jealousy. This is a problem uniquely his, probably a byproduct of his shit childhood-an all encompassing desire to be the center of someone's world. Christ knows he never got that from Jack or Joan.
"That doesn't mean I don't love you, Brian."
"Fuck love."
Justin sighs, disappointed. "Alright. Fuck love. By all means, throw mine away if you want, but it doesn't change a thing."
He doesn't want to be here anymore-never wanted to be in the first place-and finally breaks free of Justin's hold. Brian doesn't dare look back when he walks away, fears that it'll make him soft to Sunshine's attempt at reconciliation. But Sunshine can shove his apology for this morning-if that's even what this whole conversation was-up his ass.
When he gets back into his car, Brian grabs his phone from his pocket in order to call Mikey; he really wants to get completely fucked up at Babylon tonight. However, his fingers halt at the main screen of his cell as his eyes fall to the background picture. By all rights he should be used to seeing it now-a photo of him, Justin, and Gus taken about three years ago in Toronto. But in light of the fact of what's happening, he can't seem to get passed it.
They were really fucking happy back then; they'd had some semblance of a family between the three of them. Gus had even taken to calling Justin daddy, which had enthused Justin to no end. Brian supposes that's when he should have known that Sunshine would end up wandering down the path of breederhood-having a fucking kid, changing diapers instead of doing what he should be doing, namely fucking him.
Brian's sure that his Justin-and hell, when did he become such a goddamn lezzie-is somewhere inside this new and significantly less-improved version. Maybe he could convince Sunshine to go back to who he was before, drop the kid with her mommy or her other daddy-assuming, of course, that what's-his-name is still in the urchin's life. Maybe he could work harder this time to make things work between them.
Maybe none of it fucking matters because they'd still be five hours away from each other with lives and careers and goddamn urchins. But that doesn't stop him from wanting Justin. And not just for a quick fuck-though he sure as hell wants that too. Maybe he could…just for a awhile, just until Sunshine leaves for the Big Apple…well, maybe they could work out an arrangement. Now that he has Sunshine back in his system again, stopping seems like an impossibility.
Before he can talk himself out of it, Brian dials Justin's cell. He picks up on the second ring, and for the life of him, Brian doesn't know what the hell to say. It all works out in theory in his head, but what if Justin says no? What if Justin tells him exactly where he can shove it?
"Brian?"
He swallows hard. "It can't be like it was before."
"I never intended to give you the impression that I thought it would. I just miss being with you."
"I miss you too," he says before he really realizes what he's admitted to. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I saying?"
"You can say it. I won't tell any of our friends that The Great Brian Kinney has emotions just like the rest of us lay people. Even though I suspect that they already know it and just don't have the heart to let you know that they've caught on."
Brian altogether ignores the remark and continues before he can think better of it. "I want to see you. While you're in town, I mean. I want to see you and fuck you. But I can't-"
"I know, Brian. I thought we already went through this at Babylon. I'm not some seventeen year old kid anymore. I understand what you're offering."
"Sunshine, I wish-"
"I know."
Closing his eyes and resting his head against the head rest, Brian falls silent. Why does this have to be so goddamn complicated? For now, he's got what he wanted. But what happens in a week or two? What happens when Justin goes home after Christmas? And when the fuck has Brian Kinney ever not lived in the now?
"Why don't you stick around? I have the water on for cocoa. It'll be ready in just a few minutes. The door is unlocked, so come on in."
"Yeah, okay."
When Brian walks through the door, the Taylors' living room looks a lot like it had the last time he was here. It'd been a few months ago when Molly left for Dartmouth. He'd come to see his latest Taylor charge off and was genuinely going to miss seeing her bossy ass around Kinnetik. He was losing a fucking fabulous intern, but she would do him proud in business school. Since Molly's departure, he hasn't been over much where once he was over several times a week.
After toeing off his shoes, Brian slips off his coat and drapes it over the back of one of the recliners. He can hear Justin banging around in the kitchen. And for as good of a cook as Justin is, he makes a hell of a lot of noise in the process. Always has. Moving towards the kitchen, hazel eyes glance over a tiny form buried in equally as tiny blankets on the couch.
The urchin.
He thinks to ignore her, but he's genuinely caught off guard by the sight of her. In his limited experience, if the kid's eyes are open, then she's ridiculously animate-crawling and giggling and smiling. So to see her laid up on the couch-her small head sunk into an overlarge pillow and nearly unmoving-is a definite first.
Despite himself, he takes a few steps her way to assess the competition. When she sees him, she tilts her head backwards to get a better look and then shifts her gaze in disinterest back to her kiddie movie, her little arms tightening their hold around what looks to be a fucking hedgehog stuffed animal. Her nose is red and swollen, her eyes heavy and pinkish. She wheezes a little as she breathes and for a split second, he almost pities her.
"What's wrong with the kid?" Brian asks as he walks into the kitchen.
Justin turns from where he's pouring cocoa mix into some cups. "Allergies. Though we're not sure if it was Mom's powder that exploded everywhere this morning or if it's the orchids. It's hard to say, but hopefully her normal medicine will take care of it." Then Justin offers him a small smile. "Thanks for asking."
He leans against the counter. "I wasn't asking because I give a shit."
"Then why did you ask?"
He doesn't know. It's not because he gives a damn about her that's for sure. In fact, as he thinks about it, he likes her better this way. At least she's not making Justin chase her around the house and therefore taking time away from them. Brian glances over in her direction again, sees her chewing on the hedgehog's ear, and very much decides it's not because he cares. Because he doesn't. At all.
"It's called conversation, Sunshine. I know you probably don't get much of that these days."
"Uh huh," Justin says, brow raised, and he's totally not buying it. "You know, you should really try to be a little nicer when it comes to her. She is my daughter."
"What's it matter?"
Justin steps dangerously close to him, his fingers winding around Brian's tie and tugging, bringing his lips to Brian's ear. "Because if you keep acting like a pissy piece of shit, I might take my ass elsewhere. And I don't think either of us wants that."
Sunshine's bedroom voice-regardless of what he's actually saying-has always been a weak point for Brian. That, coupled with a threat of withholding much desired sex, makes for a guaranteed approval to just about any request. Brian's never really decided where the urchin falls on that line of approval, but considering that Justin's not asking for a bouncing bundle of joy and instead just toleration of the one he already has, Brian might be able to comply. Especially if Justin keeps palming him through the front of his pants. Goddamn.
"Understood?" Justin asks.
Brian clears his throat. "Yeah."
Suddenly sunshine-y again, Justin returns to his cocoa stirring. "Lucky for you I'm not expecting miracles."
Yeah, lucky for him because he sure as hell isn't going to get down on the floor with the urchin and play. If that's what it took to get into Justin's ass again, it might never happen. But cold toleration Brian is capable of. After all, he's dealt well enough with Mel all these years.
"So when are you going back?"
Justin hands him his cup of cocoa-piled high with a mini mountain of marshmallows-and deftly avoids looking at him. That's Sunshine-speak for avoidance, despite how he may smile and pretend like everything is just fine. If it weren't for the piping hot contents of his mug, he might have grabbed Justin by the arm and made him answer. Because as of right now, anything that comes out of Justin's mouth might as well be bullshit.
"Sometime around New Years. We'll definitely be here for Eli's birthday."
Brian must have a blank look on his face because Justin stops mid-way into the living room and scowls. "You don't fucking remember, do you?"
He ought to. It was the end of the world as he knew it. Brian does remember a late night call from Justin a few days after Christmas-he hadn't be able to come home because the urchin was past-due-and Justin's voice filled with emotion. Initially, he'd thought something had gone wrong-why the fuck else would Justin be calling him. It turned out that everyone was just fine and that he'd wanted to talk about the night that Gus was born for some clearly lesbianic reason. Brian still doesn't understand that.
"Her birthday is the twenty-seventh. She'll be-"
"-a year old. I know that much, Sunshine."
He follows Justin-now pissy, Brian can tell-to the couch but keeps his distance as he sits. Justin winds up sitting at the urchin's feet, putting a good foot between them. Brian suddenly feels very unwelcome, but sips his cocoa anyway. He'll be damned before he leaves Justin when he's in a mood; there's no telling when he'll be forgiven if he just leaves.
"So am I getting an invitation to this birthday?" Brian asks to break the tension, not because he actually gives a fuck.
"I didn't think you'd want one, considering."
"Sunshine." Brian scoots closer to Justin, wrapping an arm around his slight shoulders; physical contact being one of the best ways to warm him up. "You're acting like a fucking ice queen. I don't understand why it is that I'm expected to know when your kid was born. It's not like I'm her other daddy."
"She doesn't have another daddy," Justin says, tersely.
Maybe he hadn't taken the best approach to the situation after all. Brian supposes he should have known better than to bring up something like that, especially when he knows very little about Justin's arrangement with his ex-most of it second hand knowledge. They hadn't been together long before they'd decided to have a kid. Probably all Sunshine's idea, romantic that he is. And apparently, they hadn't been together much afterward either. Brian didn't even know what the fuck this James guy looked like.
Considering that talking is getting him no where tonight, Brian leans over to Justin, his hand placed on Justin's neck. He pushes Justin to meet his mouth, and predictably Sunshine is resistant at first. But a flick of the tongue and a nibble to the lips has him sighing and moving against him.
As his hand slips across Justin's thigh, Brian has completely forgotten about the goddamn kid until she starts whimpering. And it's only a couple whimpers in before it turns into a full-blown cry. The sound grates on his nerves, as does Justin pulling away from him.
Urchin - 1. Kinney - 0.
"What's her deal?" Brian asks irritably.
Justin lifts her from the couch and sets her on his lap, blanket and hedgehog fisted tightly in her hands. "I don't know."
"I do. She's a professional cock block."
Justin gives him a sideways glance-thankfully one without heat-and starts to bounce her. It doesn't do much to placate her wails. You'd think someone was tearing her fucking fingers off one by one. Drama queen.
"Eli. Eli." Justin shifts her, tucking her into his arm, and tries putting her pacifier in her mouth. "Come on, Elise."
"She's a lost cause."
"You're not helping." Justin adjusts her again. "Why don't you try to do that thing you used to do with Gus? The funny voices. She might like it."
"I never did funny voices."
"That you'll own up to." Justin juts his lower lip out, and Brian wants nothing more than to suck on it. "Please. I've been dealing with her crabby pants all day. I'm exhausted and at my wit's end."
Reluctantly, Brian clears his throat, leans down a little closer to her, and proceeds with the very best monster voice he can muster. "If you don't stop crying, I'll smother you in your sleep."
Sunshine laughs, and it seems like Brian's threat was less than impressive. But after a second, the kid's cries turn into small hiccups, her bloodshot eyes peering up at him. Brian's still a little bit amazed by how blue they are, by how much she looks like Justin minus the blonde curls.
"You're a miracle worker," Justin says, lifting Brian's chin to kiss him as reward. "It took me half an hour to calm her down last time."
"It doesn't take much to excite you anymore, does it? So do I get a blowjob for my troubles?"
Justin rests his head against Brian's shoulder. "If you take rain checks."
"That's not usually my policy."
"Well it's not usually my policy to blow men in front of my daughter, so it looks like you're out of luck."
"I said usually."
"Ohh. Are we invoking the Blond Twink Clause of 2001 to the Kinney Operating Manual?"
Brian nuzzles him, grinning. "We might be."
Just as Sunshine goes to kiss him again, the urchin makes some sort of noise that diverts Justin's attention back to her. Brian can't help but to look-scowl, really-into her general direction, her wide eyes locked on him in curiosity.
"Can you say 'Brian', Elise?"
Brian throws Sunshine a look. "You act like she can talk."
"She can! She says 'Mama' and 'Dada', 'hi' and 'bye', 'no' and 'Mug'."
"Mug?"
Justin grabs her stuffed hedgehog. "This is Mug. Her uncle Milo got it for her when she was born."
"Uncle Milo? Were his parents stoned when they named him?"
"He's Delaney's twin brother. And I don't think it's a bad name at all."
Brian snorts. "Then your kid ought to be lucky you settled for Elise."
With a roll of his eyes, Justin turns his attention to the urchin and wipes some of the tears off her cheeks. She looks like she's going to fall asleep, and Brian thinks he could only be so lucky. If she goes to bed, he might be able to get a blowjob out of Sunshine after all. His cock stiffens with the thought. Mostly, that's why he tolerates having Justin cuddling against him in a picture perfect display of domesticated bliss from any stranger's perspective. But Brian sure as hell knows better and hopes that Sunshine is enjoying it while it lasts.
As it turns out, the urchin falls asleep before the end of Finding Nemo. Her neck looks really fucking uncomfortable with the way she leans up against Justin, but Brian wouldn't think about suggesting moving it. Somehow he imagines the urchin being as grumpy as her dad if woken up in the middle of a deep sleep. And judging from the way she snores softly, it's deep.
"Can you hold her while I get her bed ready?" Justin whispers.
"Yes, I'm physically capable."
"Brian, don't be an ass. Will you?"
He sure as hell doesn't want to, but the look Justin is giving him-a cross between pleading and scathing-tells him he hasn't much of a choice. As if she's some newborn, Sunshine eases her into his arms. Brian doesn't think it would make a goddamn difference if he'd thrown her; she's nothing but dead weight, completely knocked out.
It's only after Justin walks quietly down the hall into the spare, safely out of sight, that Brian dares look at her. He imagined her to be heavier than she actually is, which gives him the impression that she's a lot less indestructible than he once thought. Now he just thinks of her as some sort of helpless, baby bird. Not a good thing-that's for fucking sure. Definitely not a good thing when he recalls his own son being this small.
Brian does manage to pull his eyes away from her when he hears Justin coming back into the room. He'd rather be dead than caught studying her. But by the looks of things, Sunshine figures he has because he's got some stupid look on his face.
"What?"
Justin shakes his head. "I don't think you realize how hot you look holding small children."
"Does it get your ovaries all aflutter, Sunshine?"
"You know," he says, carefully picking up the urchin, "that's the moment that I fell in love with you. Completely and unequivocally."
"What moment?"
"When I saw you holding Gus for the first time."
Brian thinks Justin misses the eye roll since he's already on his way to put the urchin to bed. Justin can be such a goddamn muncher sometimes that Brian questions where he went wrong. After all, it's not as if he could pin point the exact moment that he fell for Justin. He'd been denying it for so long that it's probably some fucking repressed memory at this point.
While he waits for Sunshine, Brian stretches out on the couch. It's the first chance he's had all day to just fucking relax without having to worry about clients or not-ex-boyfriends or veggie-headed urchins. Mother Taylor sure as hell knows how to pick comfortable couches-though still a far cry from his own Italia Moda-and Brian thinks that he might be able to fall asleep.
Or could have, if it weren't for Justin taking the opportunity to pounce on him. They're a tangle of misplaced elbows and knees for a few moments, Brian bitching about it constantly as they shift on the couch. Justin finally settles on top of Brian, wedged halfway between the back of the couch and Brian's side.
"You know," Brian begins, eyes closed, "I think you might be losing your perfect twink physique. I don't remember you weighing this much, Sunshine."
Justin laughs. "Fuck you, Brian. You don't mean it. You're just trying to be a bastard."
"Trying?"
"Yeah, and failing." Justin traces Brian's lips with his finger. "Because I don't remember you complaining about it last night. In fact, I seem to remember the opposite. What was it? 'Oh, Sunshine, fuck, that's-'"
"Shut the hell up," he says, cupping a hand over Justin's mouth as he peers out of the corner of his eye. "And if you find that particularly challenging, I'll give you something to put in your mouth."
"Mmm, that sounds nice."
Brian would believe it, too, if it weren't for the fact that Justin looks half-asleep, his eyes already closed and contented smile on his lips. He shifts around a little, but Sunshine just moves with him, head still firmly planted on Brian's shoulder.
"Sunshine? My blowjob?"
"Just give me a minute. You're really comfy, you know?"
He groans, already able to foresee where this is headed. The very same place it headed ages ago when Justin had come home past three in the morning after a play date with Mikey and their comic books. And Brian isn't entirely sure his ego can take another bruising like that. To this day, Justin is the only person who has ever fallen asleep on him mid-rim job. Or mid-anything, for that matter.
"You must be really tired. Normally it's a job trying to keep your mouth off my dick."
"Well somebody kept me up all night. Then I came home to a sick kid," Justin mumbles.
"Have you been getting decent sleep lately?" Brian asks, tone suddenly more serious.
"I manage."
"Justin."
Brian's very well aware that all this questioning makes him sound a hell of a lot like Deb or Mother Taylor. He can't help it though, not after one phone call not too long after Justin had left for New York. It had been one of the more frightening moments of Brian's life-getting some call from the hospital about Justin. He'd immediately thought the worst, but it turned out that Justin had been admitted for exhaustion and dehydration.
That still didn't stop him from getting the next flight out to LaGuardia. Or from sleeping in some fucking torture device of a chair in Justin's hospital room that night. Or from canceling all of his business meetings for the next four days just so he could stay in New York to take care of Justin. From a hotel room, though, because he sure as hell wasn't staying in Justin's shithole of an apartment.
Not that Justin has needed it, but Brian's not been around to watch over him for the past two years. He has no idea how Justin is living, who he's living with, or how he's doing. In his limited experience in child rearing, Brian can assume that, regardless of any of that information, Justin's short on sleep. And if he's pushing himself like he typically does-the little shit-then Sunshine can probably use any spare minutes he can get.
And with all of that weighing on him, Brian says gently, "Hey, I think I'm going to head out."
Justin stirs, lifts his head to look at Brian. "What? How come? What about your blow job?"
"I told you. I take rain checks from blond twinks with great asses."
There's a moment that Brian thinks Justin is going to demand to be fucked, but it's just a brief flicker of retaliation across his face. Instead, Justin lies down against Brian once again.
"Then stay with me."
"I don't do couches, Sunshine."
"We'll go to my bed."
"Maybe some other time."
Justin pouts. "You never stay with me."
"I do. Just never at your place. And why break a ten year tradition now?"
Brian dips his head down to capture Justin's mouth. Sunshine moans, and it almost has Brian regretting his decision to leave. But he's the more practical, the more fucking reasonable, of the two of them, and he won't be the one responsible for putting Justin into the hospital.
Before the kiss turns heated and hands start to wander, Brian gently pushes Justin away and stands. Blue eyes blink up at him, tired yet disappointed. Whether in himself or in him, Brian will never know.
"I want to see you again."
"You will, Sunshine."
"Can we do lunch someday? I'll let you take me out for greasy hamburgers and fries."
He almost forgot how much he loves Justin's sleep-drugged smiles, how his shirts always ride up on his hips and exposes his stomach. Sunshine's a fucking mess when he's tired, though maybe in the sexiest way possible. It's almost enough to make him want to stay.
Endnote: So I've started chapter 4, but there may be a slight delay in finishing it due to the fact that I'm going to try to participate in the QAF Gusmas challenge over on IJ. It's for charity so definitely a worthy cause. As always, lovelies, I appreciate each and every one of your comments and your support.
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