FUCKING FUCK PRESENTS...FUCK

Original poster: _alicesprings

Title: Fucking Fuck Presents… Fuck.
Written by: 0corona0
Timeline: Post Season 3, Pre Season 4
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Be careful what you wish for. It might just come true.
Author’s Notes: Thank you, Lena. :)



When Brian woke up one peaceful Saturday morning in late November, he was wondering whether the Special K he had taken had been mixed in a bathtub once again, because suddenly, Justin was not in his bed anymore. His furniture was vanished too, but after a few seconds he remembered painfully that this was the doing of the Concerned Citizens for the Truth, not any drug. But still, Justin was not in his bed. And he definitely had been there the previous night. And Brian definitely wanted a blowjob.

He was truly astonished when he looked out of the Loft’s window onto the cold city and saw his blond boy.

Justin was washing a car.

Brian opened the window: “What the fuck are you doing and why are you not up here sucking me off?!”

No, he was not worried about the neighbours.

Justin looked up, puzzled, then shouted back: “I’m earning money!”

“What for?”

“To make money for Christmas presents!”

“By washing a car?”

“Yeah.”

Brian did not spend Justin’s reason much attention at that time. He was only interested in getting the boy back up into the warm Loft.

“Look, whatever they’re paying you, I’ll give it to you.”

“You’re broke.”

“But I want a fucking blowjob!”

“Fine, just give me a second, I’ll clean this up.”

Brian was satisfied and did not hear any bullshit about Christmas presents again before the first Advent rolled around. More precisely, the Monday after the first Advent.

He was returning from a long hard day of job-interviews, the very conscious wish on his mind to bury himself in bed and die, or to fuck into the early morning. The holiday season was the most exhausting for any advertising agency – they made more money than in the entire rest of the year, which meant that they were working not only until ten, but sometimes to one or two in the morning. Which meant that they could only fit him in to the most ridiculous times. This certain Monday he had made the lucky catch of getting off, so to speak, at twelve. So it surprised him even more to find a note on the counter that said:

“Shift at the diner ‘til 3. See you tomorrow. –Justin”

He was so aggravated, so exhausted, so angry, so goddamn tired that he wanted to fuck. Annoyingly enough, he did not want to go to Babylon to fuck anyone. He wanted to fuck Justin, full stop.

So he actually made the long way to the Diner to find his favourite bussing tables while a satisfied customer was squeezing his ass. He stalked over there, pointedly slapped the guy’s hand away and pulled Justin closely to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”, he growled into Justin’s ear.

“I’m earning money.”

“What for?”

“To make money for Christmas presents!”

That triggered something in Brian’s memory, but he did not care much. “Fuck it. I want to fuck.”

“Well, you’ll have to do that another time.” Justin sounded slightly annoyed, and Brian huffed. The only one who had a right to be annoyed was him! He was being denied this single pleasure of his day!

“It’s just goddamn Christmas presents, Justin!”

“For you!”

Justin pushed him away stubbornly and glared at Brian. Brian glared back. “You know, it may not matter to you, but it does to me. You can go with your ‘no-presents’ attitude, let me go with mine.”

Brian could not object to that logic. It was his, after all. So he simply pulled Justin into the Diner’s toilettes and fucked him. It was their way of arguing and making up at once. Like two-in-one conditioner.

Justin’s wish to earn enough money to buy extravagant Christmas presents and keep a roof over their head did not present to be an issue again until the following week when Brian woke up on his first interview-free day in three weeks and had only one plan: To fuck. All day. With Justin. Only, Justin was already at the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?!”

“To the Diner. I’m doing a double shift today, so don’t expect me back before two.”

“In the afternoon?”

“In the morning, Brian. I said double-shift.”

Now, that was enough. Justin would not spend Brian’s entire free day in the greasy Diner. “No, you’re not.”

“Excuse me?”

Justin suddenly stood at the bottom of the bedroom-stairs, glaring again. “I have a free day. We could fuck”, Brian pointed out. “And watch a movie, or whatever.”

“On the non-existing TV?”

That hurt. Justin knew that it did. He was deliberately pushing Brian further down. Suddenly, the idea of spending the Sunday alone appeared a little better. Only slightly though.

“Brian. I’ve told you, I want to buy Christmas presents. For you too.”

Brian huffed and turned around again. If there was to be no fucking or coffee, he might as well go back to sleep. “You could fucking make me a present by staying here with me forever”, he muttered.

It was not intended to come out as it did. He had wanted to imply that he did not wish to go back into the outside world. Or that this Sunday would last forever if they wanted to. Maybe. It definitely was not intended for Justin to hear it. Maybe. But he did. And it worked like magic, because Justin stayed.

Forever.