whotfisalex (whotfisalex) wrote in kinky_and_queer, @ 2007-09-01 10:45:00 |
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Current mood: | peaceful |
Current music: | "In the Shadows" - The Rasmus |
Lacrymosa (Sequel)
Title: Lacrymosa, a Sequel
Genre: Queer as Folk fanfiction
Pairing: Brian/Justin/Original male character
Warning: BDSM
Summary: At the close of the first part, Justin attempted to provoke Brian into punishing him by "forgetting" to lock up the loft. Because he still thinks punishment means fun.
A/N: Originally posted in my LiveJournal and re-posted here because it's September 1. And yeah, I stole the title from Evanescence - I'm a thucking feef!
Walking across the street to the old building, I'm buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. I'd just seen the jeep pull up, park, and watched as Brian got out to enter the front door. I almost saw him too late, lost in thought and fantasies of what would happen when he came home and found the unlocked loft abandoned once again, and cringed behind the dumpsters just in time. I swear I have the attention-span of a gnat sometimes. But I don't think he saw me; at least he gave no indication. By the time the latch of the front door clicks shut behind me, my heart's pounding and even skips a beat when I hear a loud and resouding SLAM from upstairs. The door to the loft. It sounds like a slam when it closes normally because it's made of heavy steel, but this time it really does crash shut with a roar like thunder. And I know Brian's pissed.
I close the door much more quietly when I get in after taking the stairs. Brian is just standing there, shuffling through the mail he'd brought up, overcoat folded over his arm, and doesn't even seem to be aware of the fact that I'm there. I greet him hesitantly and shove my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt so he won't notice they're trembling, like I just did.
He barely glances at me. His eyes are dark but his voice is calm as he answers me. "Hey, yourself."
I watch him toss the stack of envelopes on a table and my eyes follow him when he goes to hang up his coat, walks to the kitchen area, yanks open the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. I shuffle nervously when he looks right at me as he unscrews the cap.
"So are you just going to stand there?" he asks.
"I, um..."
"What?"
"I think...I forgot to lock up." Duh. Oh golly-gee-whiz. Imagine that.
This time it's the fridge door that slams after he replaces the water bottle, but both his expression and voice are completely neutral. "Yeah. I noticed something like that."
I still can't move. Instead I stare after him as he retreats into the bedroom. "Where are you going?"
"Out."
"But I thought -- "
"No."
I swallow. Okay.