Queer as Folk :: Brian/Justin fic
Summary: Takes place after that hot fuck in Season 4, where Justin rides Brian on the bed? And there's a reference to "quadruple digits". This fic picks up an hour or so after that conversation. Or maybe the next day. I don't remember. Whatever. It's sex, and that's all you care about anyway. ;-)
Disclaimer: If I owned Brian and Justin, I wouldn't be sharing them with you, that's for sure.
"Wait a minute."
Justin's voice was abrupt and bright in the silent loft. Brian looked up from his computer, bluewhite plasma light reflecting under his face.
"What?" Eyebrow raised.
"You said," Justin drawled out, getting up on his knees on the [very expensive designer] sofa, face showcasing a grin of realization and triumph, "quadruple digits."
"You admitted it!" breathless, blown-out smile now, cheeks rosy.
"Justin, I've admitted how many times we've fucked plenty of times before," Brian rolled his eyes and went back to his work.
"But! You rate them..." Justin sounded as if he were trying to bait him.
Brian pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, and then smoothed the hand back into his hair as he sighed, "You're acting like you're seventeen again."
"Seventeen year-old Justin made you hot," Justin countered, sliding his perfect ass over the arm of the sofa until his feet hit the floor.
"Twenty year-old Justin makes me hotter," Brian shot back, snippy but honest.
"How hot?" fucking purred Justin, sauntering towards him, coy and predatory at the same time. His paint-stained fingers twisting and fiddling with the tee-shirt over his abdomen, causing the hem to lift and drop in a tantalizing beat. Glimpse of soft boy belly, gone. Glimpse, gone. Glimpse-
Oh fuck. Literally this time.
"Top five fuck this afternoon, that's how hot," Brian said huskily, licking his lips. Justin came to a stop in front of the desk, making a show of rubbing his hard-on over the edge of it, little jeans strained and bulging.
"That's pretty hot."
"Get your fucking ass on my cock right the fuck now."
Justin had the nerve to chuckle and take his time walking around the desk, but then finally he was straddling Brian's lap and grinding himself against his stiff dick.
"Quadruple digits, Brian. You've probably fucked me more than the total number of guys you've done," Justin breathed into his ear, small bites on the lobe to punctuate his words.
Brian's hands gripped his rotating hips, sliding fingers under the waistband, "Seriously fucking doubt it, Sunshine."
Justin pulled back, nonchalant shrug not meeting his eyes, "Maybe."
Which translated as, 'If thinking that helps you sleep at night, Kinney.'
Brian tilted his head and stared at his partner, "Let me guess, you're onto me?"
Justin looked surprised, and Brian secretly loved when he could surprise him.
"I... wasn't going to say that. But yeah. I'm onto you," The grin came back, and Justin did a little shimmy that made both of them groan, "I'm soooo onto you."
"Why don't you take your fucking pants off and really. get onto me."
"You're still just as impatient as you were three years ago."
"Yeah, well," Brian grunted, helping Justin pull off the jeans, "some things never change."
Justin nodded, hummed in his chest, "The reason behind the impatience does."
"Justin, would you just shut the fuck up and give me a condom?"
Justin tilted back and pressed his ass harder into Brian's groin as he reached back towards the desk and pulled a condom out of a drawer. Slid it on, lubed it up, Justin lined himself up and sunk down.
Brian ran his tongue up Justin's slender neck and pushed it into his mouth, wet and full.
"You were impatient then because you wanted to have me so you could kick me out and deny it ever happened, deny you liked it, and deny that you wanted me again," Justin gasped against his lips. Brian tried to press them back together again to shut him up, but Justin grabbed his wrist hard enough to bruise.
"Fuck!" Brian groaned, in pain. In pleasure. Justin grabbed the other wrist and clenched his ass around Brian's dick.
"Now you're impatient because you can't get enough of me. You haven't denied since double digits."
This time Brian succeeded in kissing him again, and he did as violently and as punishing as he could.
But it was wanton and confessing and Justin knew it.
Brian fisted his hand in Justin's short hair, digging into his scalp and wrenching the boy's head back.
"Justin," said his name gruffly and truthfully.
Justin blinked his eyes and stared at Brian, both of their faces shining with sweat, hips still thrusting against each other.
Brian dropped his forehead to Justin's tee-shirt covered shoulder and breathed in the hot fresh smell of his body.
"I don't mind quadruple digits with only you."
And that was what Justin apparently wanted to hear, because he let out something that sounded like a whimper and a contented sigh, and pulled Brian's head up to kiss him again.
Quadruple plus one.