|testdog65 (testdog65) wrote in qaf_challenges,|
@ 2006-12-31 18:42:00
Original poster: _alicesprings
Title: Holly Jolly Merry Fucking Christmas
Written By: sxysadie21
Timeline: Post Season Five
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Justin's not coming home for Christmas.
Author's Notes: Thanks to both bestmixtape (who as usually let me harass her for days on end) and _sarapie_ who got sucked into this last minute but was a great sport. :)
He heard the door of the office open, barely glancing up from the storyboard in front of him, at first. "Cynthia? Tell the new guy in the art-" he stopped as he noticed that the angry eyes glaring at him, for once, were not Cynthia's.
He leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly and directed his full attention to the angry brown curls that bobbed when Daphne started to talk. "You. Are. An. Asshole."
"Daphne. Good to see you as well. Truly, the pleasure is all mine." He brought his two hands together, the sarcasm dripping from his words.
"I'm sure, Brian." She crossed her arms defiantly.
He sighed and leaned forward. "We could save both of us time if you'd just tell me why you were angry instead of playing this," he waved his hand around. "Charade game or whatever the hell this is."
"You haven't called Justin in weeks."
"Which makes me an asshole?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"No. Which makes him not want to come home for Christmas," she retorted quickly.
"Daphne, Daphne, Daphne." He stood up, pushing the chair back, intent on sending her on her way, and returning to his work. "Justin is a big boy. If he didn't want to come home for Christmas, it wasn't anything I did."
"No. It's what you didn't do." She sighed. "I know him. He emailed me to say he has too much work to do. But it's really because he doesn't want to have to run into you and have things be awkward."
"Or maybe he doesn't buy into this holly, jolly, Merry fucking Christmas bullshit that you all shove down each other's throat every December."
She narrowed her eyes. "You really are an asshole"
"And the pleasure really has been all mine. Now if you don't mind," he touched his hand to her arm, guiding her towards the door and motioned back to his desk with the other. "I have to get back to work." He snorted. "Run along and be a good little girl and maybe Santa will bring you everything you asked for."
She huffed slightly, behind the already closed door of his office before storming away much more angrily than she arrived.
"What the fuck do you mean he's not coming home for Christmas?!?!"
Brian cringed, simultaneously smirking to himself. When Deb got angry her voice sounded entirely too much like Michael's shrill, piercing "angry voice."
"Ma," Michael protested.
"Don't you Ma me." She turned her attention to Brian, who peered over his coffee mug at her. "You. You have to talk some sense into him. He has to come home for Christmas. What will his mother say? Oh." She sighed dramatically, her hand coming up to her chest. "Poor Jennifer. Does she know yet?"
"Christ, Deb," Brian snapped. "He didn't die. He's just not coming home for Christmas. I'm sure that Santa will still find him in his apartment." He set his cup down and stood up. "I have to get back to work," he said quickly, turning back to Michael. "See you at Babylon?"
Michael shrugged between shoveling two bites into his mouth and looked over at Ben. "Maybe?" He mumbled around his mouth full of food.
"I mean if you aren't too busy decking the fucking halls," he rolled his eyes, throwing his money down on the table and sliding his jacket on quickly.
He watched the dark-haired, well built, barely legal man slide on his pants and sat up, lighting a cigarette.
"I'll show myself out?"
"I think you can find it." Brian didn't miss the hopefulness in the other man's tone of voice. He could see the trick's shoulders droop visibly when he wasn't invited to stay the night.
He waited until he heard the loft door close before sliding out of the bed and slipping his jeans on quickly. After grabbing a glass and pouring himself a drink, he moved towards the computer.
I've heard from far too many sources that you will not be joining the Pittsburgh festivities this year, for Christmas. Why do you get to skip them if I still have to attend?
Aren't you scared Santa won't find you all the way in New York? Apparently, everyone else here is worried about whether you will be receiving a visit from the fat man in red suit. I keep telling them that you would rather find Horny Young Nick instead of Jolly Old St. Nick, but no one will believe me. Can you please assure them that I am correct?
He sat back and stared at the screen, taking a long drag off his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. He re-read the email once more before clicking cancel.
She looked up from the list of notes she had finished scrawling furiously during their short meeting and groaned. "What else could there be?"
"I want you to book a flight."
"Don't tell me you're leaving now. The Campbell account …" she started.
"From New York. Here."
She looked at him for a moment, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You talked to Justin?"
"No. And I don't intend to. I want you to have the e-ticket sent to him. Maybe then everyone can get off my fucking case."
"Right. That's why." She mocked, standing up and heading towards the door.
"Even Mel called me last night. For a lesbian, that woman was sure riding my ass."
She rolled her eyes and opened the office door. "So what you're saying is, after a night with a lesbian you have to get Justin back to Pittsburgh."
"Cynthia." He started, as she shut the door behind herself quickly.
I got your ticket. I'm not coming home. I have too much work to do. Thanks anyway.
He stared at the computer screen, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers before writing a reply.
At least tell everyone I tried so they stop thinking I am the fucking Grinch.
He sighed, the chair groaning slightly the only noise in the loft. He was watching the email send when he decided that he suddenly didn't feel like going to Babylon. He had made plans to meet Mikey. He looked over at the clock on the wall, grabbing his jacket and dialing his cell phone as he closed the door of the loft behind him.
"Professor? Didn't I dial Mikey's cell phone?" Brian said shortly.
"Yeah. He's in the shower."
"Tell him I can't make it tonight."
"What? Brian." Ben sighed.
"Oh come on, it's just you and I now, we don't have to pretend that you want him to go out with me tonight. I won't tell anyone." Brian laughed snidely.
"No, but he's been talking about it all day."
"So make him forget about it. I think you can handle that, right?"
"Okay, okay. I will explain. But only once. Do you have pen and paper?"
"I'll tell him you can't make it," Ben said, his tone curt.
"Does that mean you don't want a lesson in how to fuck a man so well he won't remember he had previously arranged plans?"
He smiled to himself as he heard Ben disconnect the line and unlocked the car.
He knocked loudly on the door, pulling his hand back as if the door's tarnished and tattered look was going to rub off on his hands. When he got no answer, he knocked louder.
"I said I was coming. Fuck." Brian could hear the movements through the door. In fact, he could hear everything from all the apartments, even the loud cry of the child, who obviously had a stellar set of lungs, a few doors down from Justin's.
He looked up when he saw the door swing open, just in time to see the expression on the paint spattered blonde's face go from annoyance to shock and quickly into confusion.
"Daph. I'll call you back." He said, letting the phone drop from his shoulder and hanging it up quickly. "Brian," he stammered.
Brian looked up and then back down at Justin. "Mistletoe?" He looked back up at it. "You.."
"Are such a lesbian," Justin finished for him. "I know. Did you want to come in?"
"Is that how you pick them all up? With your boyish good looks and then your mistletoe?"
Suddenly, the smaller man had his arms wrapped around Brian's neck, his body pressed up against the other man's, and was effortlessly pulling him into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.
When they parted, finally, Brian smirked. "I'd say it was good to see you, but I think that would be redundant." His eyes scanned the apartment quickly, not sure where to look first. They finally settled on the large piece of art in the center of what could be called the living room, kitchen, dining room, and foyer all at once.
"It's not finished yet." Justin said softly, walking towards it quickly.
"It's for you." He said, his eyes moving from the piece up to Brian's.
"Oh?" Brian said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. When I thought I was going to come home, I started to work on it. Then …" he trailed off.
"Then I was an asshole and didn't call you for weeks." Brian finished.
"Well I wouldn't put it that way."
"Neither would I," he sighed. "However, your good friend Daphne would."
"I know you're busy," his hands flickered about, trying to tidy up the area as best he could. He moved the newspapers off of a nearby stool. "Seat?"
"The phone works both ways, Sunshine." Brian said, shaking his head.
"And obviously so do the airlines." He looked up, flashing a smile in Brian's direction as he moved his glasses full of paintbrushes aside. "When do you leave?"
"Huh?" Justin looked up.
"We leave. In," Brian paused as he looked at his watch. "Five hours."
"Brian, I have…"
"Work, right. Because you're a doctor? Did you suddenly change your profession? I checked. The gallery you are working at is closed. For the next four days. If you need to paint I have plenty of room at the house."
"There is not enough room to paint in your loft."
"I said in the house, Justin."
"I thought you…"
"You thought wrong. So gather up your clothes, your paints, your little beret, whatever you need and let's get moving."
"I thought you said we have five hours?"
"During the holidays. With all the security. I'd rather not miss the flight home. I can only imagine what would happen if neither of us are there to sing Christmas carols, drink eggnog, and get shitty sweaters that we will return the following week."
Justin grinned, looking around the bar inside the airport and whispered to Brian. "Good thing we got here. I mean we only have," Justin paused, for emphasis. "Three hours left before we board?"
Brian took a long drink and set his glass down. "That was cute the first time you pointed out how early we are. Now? Not nearly as cute." He stood up. "I'll be back."
He looked up from the sink, turning the water off just as Justin entered the bathroom.
"Whose watching everything?" Brian mocked. "I mean I'm sure you'll point out that the bar was full. What if we lose our seats?"
Justin looked over, rolling his eyes. "I get it. I won't comment on how we are now," he said, sighing dramatically, "still well over two hours away from boarding."
"Whatever will we do with our time?" Brian moved past Justin and locked the door of the bathroom, and then covered the space between them quickly.
"I was thinking we could," Justin was cut off as Brian wrapped his arm around the younger man's waist and pulled him towards his own body.
"I was thinking we could, too." He leaned down, capturing Justin's mouth with his, pushing his hips firmly against the other man's.
Justin pulled back, looking into Brian's eyes for a minute. "Brian?"
"Hmm?" Brian slid his hand down, working on Justin's button and zipper quickly.
Suddenly, his mind was swirling and he couldn't find the words he wanted. And almost as quickly, he felt his pants sliding down his thighs, and Brian's body weight pushing him against the wall. Then it was all tongue and teeth, and hands pulling on clothes.
He vaguely heard the condom rustling before Brian's pants were unbuttoned; he closed his eyes as he felt Brian's breath hot against his ear, his tongue flicking out against it slightly. "I missed you," Brian's voice sent a jolt through his body and he could feel his cock twitch as suddenly his chest was against the cool wall, and Brian's hands were moving down his body, his touch sending little waves of pleasure through his body.
He pushed his hips back, his hands reaching back, searching for Brian's hips, desperately trying to pull him closer.
Brian smirked, pressing himself against Justin's entrance, his teeth finding the skin of Justin's shoulder as he slid in, nipping at Justin's skin lightly.
Brian's thrusts were quick and short at first, until Justin's hands fumbled back and finally found Brian's hips, pulling him closer. "Fuck," Justin breathed out, feeling Brian slide all the way inside of him.
They set a frantic pace, Justin's hips thrusting back to meet Brian just as quickly as Brian was burying himself inside of Justin.
It amazed Justin that even after not seeing each other for three months, not so much as even a phone call in the last month, Brian could still read him so clearly. Just when he knew Justin couldn't hold out any longer, he slid his hand around, moving it along the length of the other man's cock in time with his thrusts.
Justin groaned, his ass tightening around Brian's cock as he exploded, his own cock throbbing inside Brian's hand at the same time as he slid all the way inside, his face buried in the crook of Justin's neck as he came hard, his breath coming in spurts.
They stayed there for a few moments, trying to catch their breath, Brian still nuzzled in against Justin's neck. "So this is why you wanted to come early?"
Brian pulled back, sliding out slowly. "You know me so well Sunshine." He said, zipping his pants.
He rang the doorbell, looking over at Justin. "I already called Mikey. They said they'd have Daphne answer the door.."
He pulled his jacket tighter, standing outside of Deb's house always brought back memories for him. Especially at Christmastime. He shook his head to clear it and move to the side as he heard someone nearing the front door.
The door opened and he cringed as he heard the ear-piercing squeal he had been attempting to steel himself for.
"Justin!" She flung her arms around his neck, and he laughed.
Brian moved into her line of sight. "I told you that if you were a good girl Santa would bring you everything you asked for." He moved past her and into the warmth of Deb's house.