Happy sort-of American Thanksgiving!
This one is theleapingmuse's fault. Again.
I kinda miss QaF a lot. :(
"Wishbone" | 730 words | Brian/Justin | Queer as Folk
"You are not getting fat," Justin said, shooting Brian a withering look over the bowl of brussel sprouts. "So shut the fuck up and eat your mashed potatoes."
Brian's eyebrows snapped together and he immediately tried to relax his facial muscles. Lines developed faster than you would think. As usual, Justin had the fucking annoying habit of blurting out exactly what he thought Brian's problem was. He wasn't even close. Not fucking close. He snorted.
"Like I have to worry about that," he replied, scraping a fork against the edge of his plate. Lindsay gave him a reproving look from where she was trying to help Michael feed J.R. at the head of table. "I just know better than to eat anything that Melanie cooked."
"I'm sure you've had worse things in your mouth recently," Melanie retorted.
"Hey," Deb warned, "It's Thanksgiving. The girls and the kids came all the way down from another fucking country for Thanksgiving dinner. Let's try and manage without killing each other."
Brian smiled sweetly at Melanie, who gritted her teeth and turned her attention back to Gus, who was happily mashing carrots and Ben's lentil casserole together on his place. Living on opposite sides on the continent had improved things between them considerably. But who was he to dump on tradition?
At least things seemed more normal this year, whatever the fuck that was, anyhow. The first year that Mel and Lindsay had brought the kids down from Canada for Thanksgiving had been a train wreck. He and Melanie had a screaming match before they even got in the door, Gus sulked and J.R. cried, Deb burnt the pie and the evening had ended with Brian chain-smoking on the back porch while Justin sat silently nearby, sniffling occasionally from the frosty November air.
"We're out of cranberry sauce," Ted announced, holding up the empty bowl.
Brian snatched it from him, gladly taking any chance to escape Justin's calculating stare and Lindsay's silent gaze. "I'll go get some." He wove around the massive table and mess of chairs that seemed to swallow Michael and Ben's dining room entirely, through the kitchen door and - peace. He set the bowl on the table and leaned back against the counter for a brief moment. He used to blow off these 'family get-togethers' in favor of getting drunk and fucking some nameless guy. He rubbed his face and winced. He didn't look up at the sound of the kitchen door squeaking open.
"When did you get so fucking concerned with getting old anyways?" Justin said, approaching and sliding an arm possessively around Brian's waist and leaning against him. Brian reacted out of long habit, nuzzling into the softness of Justin's hair, closing his eyes and relaxing, feeling warmth and Justin, listening to the faint clink of dishes and quiet, delighted laughter muffled by the kitchen door.
"That isn't what this is about."
"Oh, sure."
Silence. They had never really gotten the hang of having a deep conversation. But they understood each other and that was the important thing.
"I mean, you were always worried," Justin said finally, voice muffled against Brian's chest, "But this is different, Brian. You let it take over everything that you do."
Brian stayed silent, hand moving up to thread fingers through Justin's hair. It wouldn't do any good to argue. Justin was fierce and stubborn once he got onto something and...damn it, he knew him too well. More than Brian was really comfortable with.
"You're Brian Kinney," Justin concluded, drawing back slightly to meet Brian's eyes. "I don't see why you bother to worry."
"I don't see why you bother to care."
Justin grinned and it was like sunshine through the watery gray clouds. "Yes, you do," he said, "And so do I." Brian couldn't help but grin back, bringing his forehead to rest against Justin's.
"What d'ya say we blow this popsicle stand, Sunshine?" he murmured, drawing Justin flush against him, letting his hands wander.
Unexpectedly, Justin pushed him away and stood back, leaving Brian blinking in surprise.
"Only after the pie," Justin informed him, stern voice ruined by an ear-to-ear shit-eating grin. "Which you will eat."
"We'll fucking see," Brian muttered under his breath.
Justin grinned at him again before ducking back through the doorway, "Just don't forget the cranberry sauce."
Cross-posted to bjfic
I kinda miss QaF a lot. :(
"Wishbone" | 730 words | Brian/Justin | Queer as Folk
"You are not getting fat," Justin said, shooting Brian a withering look over the bowl of brussel sprouts. "So shut the fuck up and eat your mashed potatoes."
Brian's eyebrows snapped together and he immediately tried to relax his facial muscles. Lines developed faster than you would think. As usual, Justin had the fucking annoying habit of blurting out exactly what he thought Brian's problem was. He wasn't even close. Not fucking close. He snorted.
"Like I have to worry about that," he replied, scraping a fork against the edge of his plate. Lindsay gave him a reproving look from where she was trying to help Michael feed J.R. at the head of table. "I just know better than to eat anything that Melanie cooked."
"I'm sure you've had worse things in your mouth recently," Melanie retorted.
"Hey," Deb warned, "It's Thanksgiving. The girls and the kids came all the way down from another fucking country for Thanksgiving dinner. Let's try and manage without killing each other."
Brian smiled sweetly at Melanie, who gritted her teeth and turned her attention back to Gus, who was happily mashing carrots and Ben's lentil casserole together on his place. Living on opposite sides on the continent had improved things between them considerably. But who was he to dump on tradition?
At least things seemed more normal this year, whatever the fuck that was, anyhow. The first year that Mel and Lindsay had brought the kids down from Canada for Thanksgiving had been a train wreck. He and Melanie had a screaming match before they even got in the door, Gus sulked and J.R. cried, Deb burnt the pie and the evening had ended with Brian chain-smoking on the back porch while Justin sat silently nearby, sniffling occasionally from the frosty November air.
"We're out of cranberry sauce," Ted announced, holding up the empty bowl.
Brian snatched it from him, gladly taking any chance to escape Justin's calculating stare and Lindsay's silent gaze. "I'll go get some." He wove around the massive table and mess of chairs that seemed to swallow Michael and Ben's dining room entirely, through the kitchen door and - peace. He set the bowl on the table and leaned back against the counter for a brief moment. He used to blow off these 'family get-togethers' in favor of getting drunk and fucking some nameless guy. He rubbed his face and winced. He didn't look up at the sound of the kitchen door squeaking open.
"When did you get so fucking concerned with getting old anyways?" Justin said, approaching and sliding an arm possessively around Brian's waist and leaning against him. Brian reacted out of long habit, nuzzling into the softness of Justin's hair, closing his eyes and relaxing, feeling warmth and Justin, listening to the faint clink of dishes and quiet, delighted laughter muffled by the kitchen door.
"That isn't what this is about."
"Oh, sure."
Silence. They had never really gotten the hang of having a deep conversation. But they understood each other and that was the important thing.
"I mean, you were always worried," Justin said finally, voice muffled against Brian's chest, "But this is different, Brian. You let it take over everything that you do."
Brian stayed silent, hand moving up to thread fingers through Justin's hair. It wouldn't do any good to argue. Justin was fierce and stubborn once he got onto something and...damn it, he knew him too well. More than Brian was really comfortable with.
"You're Brian Kinney," Justin concluded, drawing back slightly to meet Brian's eyes. "I don't see why you bother to worry."
"I don't see why you bother to care."
Justin grinned and it was like sunshine through the watery gray clouds. "Yes, you do," he said, "And so do I." Brian couldn't help but grin back, bringing his forehead to rest against Justin's.
"What d'ya say we blow this popsicle stand, Sunshine?" he murmured, drawing Justin flush against him, letting his hands wander.
Unexpectedly, Justin pushed him away and stood back, leaving Brian blinking in surprise.
"Only after the pie," Justin informed him, stern voice ruined by an ear-to-ear shit-eating grin. "Which you will eat."
"We'll fucking see," Brian muttered under his breath.
Justin grinned at him again before ducking back through the doorway, "Just don't forget the cranberry sauce."
Cross-posted to bjfic