Rage to the Rescue (soft R; Brian/Justin)
Title: Rage to the Rescue
Author: Etharei
Timeline: post-513
Rating: soft R
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Summary: Justin is suffering from artist's block. Brian Rage arrives to help him.
Author's note: Written for Challenge #10: Rage at qaf-drabbles. A tribble, posted separately at first but now combined.
"Brian." Justin pulled hard on a fistful of his own hair. Ow. "I don’t know what’s fucking blocking me, but it’s been two weeks and Michael wants the storyboard by Monday."
A loud sigh issued from the cell phone propped up in front of him. “It’s not worth getting a nervous breakdown over.” The sound of papers rustling indicated that Brian was still at Kinnetik. "Get some sleep. Maybe inspiration will come tomorrow."
There was a knock at the door the next evening. Somehow, Justin knew who would be on other side.
Nevertheless, his jaw went thunk on the floor.
#
Brian smirked at him, leaning against the doorframe. The metallic costume clung to every swell and crevice of his tall, lean body. Bronze skin tantalizingly showed through the diagonal slash. Brian’s sizable and very erect cock made a clear outline on the tight material.
Justin could feel himself drooling.
He backed up as Brian advanced on him, until the back of Justin’s thighs hit the desk, littered with still-untouched drawings. Brian lunged the final distance and kissed Justin, hard and deep and noisily, pushing until Justin was sitting on the edge of the table, Brian’s heated body between his legs.
#
"You called for help?" Brian growled hotly into Justin’s ear, face mask rubbing against Justin’s cheek. A hand slipped down the front of Justin’s pants.
"Yes, Rage," Justin swallowed, arching as long fingers wrapped around his already hard dick, stroking lightly and thumbing the slit. "An evil chip in my brain is stopping me from channeling you. The only way to get rid of it is through sensory overload." He looked at Brain somberly. "You will have to fuck me."
Brain pushed Justin down onto the table. Expression grave, he nodded. "We won’t stop until we’re rid of it, JT."
Author: Etharei
Timeline: post-513
Rating: soft R
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Showtime, Cowlip Productions and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes, and promise to replenish the condom and lube supply when I’m done.
Summary: Justin is suffering from artist's block. Brian Rage arrives to help him.
Author's note: Written for Challenge #10: Rage at qaf-drabbles. A tribble, posted separately at first but now combined.
"Brian." Justin pulled hard on a fistful of his own hair. Ow. "I don’t know what’s fucking blocking me, but it’s been two weeks and Michael wants the storyboard by Monday."
A loud sigh issued from the cell phone propped up in front of him. “It’s not worth getting a nervous breakdown over.” The sound of papers rustling indicated that Brian was still at Kinnetik. "Get some sleep. Maybe inspiration will come tomorrow."
There was a knock at the door the next evening. Somehow, Justin knew who would be on other side.
Nevertheless, his jaw went thunk on the floor.
#
Brian smirked at him, leaning against the doorframe. The metallic costume clung to every swell and crevice of his tall, lean body. Bronze skin tantalizingly showed through the diagonal slash. Brian’s sizable and very erect cock made a clear outline on the tight material.
Justin could feel himself drooling.
He backed up as Brian advanced on him, until the back of Justin’s thighs hit the desk, littered with still-untouched drawings. Brian lunged the final distance and kissed Justin, hard and deep and noisily, pushing until Justin was sitting on the edge of the table, Brian’s heated body between his legs.
#
"You called for help?" Brian growled hotly into Justin’s ear, face mask rubbing against Justin’s cheek. A hand slipped down the front of Justin’s pants.
"Yes, Rage," Justin swallowed, arching as long fingers wrapped around his already hard dick, stroking lightly and thumbing the slit. "An evil chip in my brain is stopping me from channeling you. The only way to get rid of it is through sensory overload." He looked at Brain somberly. "You will have to fuck me."
Brain pushed Justin down onto the table. Expression grave, he nodded. "We won’t stop until we’re rid of it, JT."