InsaneJournal

Graphic Number 14: "Countertop or Floor?"
Title: Countertop or Floor?
Author: not_yet_defined
Timeline: Post Series
Rating: PG-13 for language
Author's notes: Thank you, tweedygal, for the beta. And thank you to the artist. I adored this graphic.
Graphic: #14 by cam_a




Brian lifted his eyebrows, looking across the island to where Justin was sitting, muttering curses at his laptop. Justin didn't so much as glance in his direction. Brian thought his powers of mind control must be fading. He turned back to his own computer, ignoring the frantic emails that were coming from Theodore approximately every 3 minutes, and continued to browse through the glass dildos. It seemed Theodore didn't understand what Brian meant when he said he was taking the day off.

"Fuck!"

"On the countertop or the floor?"

Justin looked up long enough to glare at him, then went back to whatever the fuck it was he was doing. Apparently Justin didn't understand what you were supposed to do on your day off either.

Brian found one he liked, or rather, one Justin would like, and added it to his shopping cart, along with a case of his favorite condoms and Justin's favorite lube, then a case of cheaper lube, in handy little one time use packets, for when Justin wasn't around. Or maybe for when he was around, but completely fucking ignoring him, like right now. Was it too early to go to Babylon?

Brian looked over at Justin again; he wasn't cursing any longer, but he was still completely focused on his project. His hair was sticking up in odd directions. He had on one of Brian's white t-shirts and a pair of plaid cotton pajama bottoms. Brian sighed, it was definitely too early for Babylon. He scratched his bare foot on a rung of his stool and clicked "remove from cart" next the little lube packets. He still had at least half a case left, he didn't really need them yet.

He went back to his email, answering Theodore's one by one, with a level of patience for which he really deserved an award. He added a "Fuck off. It's my day off. This is what I fucking pay you for," to the last one. He was about to shut down his laptop and drag Justin away from his, when an email from j.taylor appeared in his inbox. He glanced up. Justin was staring back. Brian raised his eyebrow, but Justin just shrugged, and kept his face blank.

Brian opened up the email. An invitation appeared on the screen. He could feel a smile pulling on the corner of his lips but he checked it, poking his tongue into his cheek, and rolling his eyes back towards Justin instead.

"May 13th isn't a Saturday, Sunshine."

Justin bit his thumbnail and his eyes flickered back to his screen, "Typo. Should say the 23rd."

Brian closed his screen and stood up. "And you found out about this when?"

Justin couldn't help himself now, a smile edged its way onto his face, and danced through his eyes. "Yesterday morning."

Brian advanced around the island toward him, "And you got here when?"

"Yesterday afternoon." He shut his laptop too and spun on his stool towards Brian. "But you kept me very busy and it slipped my mind."

Brian didn't answer that, instead he slipped between Justin's knees, snaked a hand behind his head, and kissed the shit out of him. When they broke apart Justin was smiling like he'd just won the lottery. In way, Brian guessed he had. Justin was talented, and brilliant, it was true, but so were a lot of other artists who didn't get solo shows. In New York Fucking City. At age 27. Brian might have been smiling too.

"We should celebrate."

"Countertop or floor?"