To: severina2001 From: arlad Title: A Christmas of Unfortunate Events Gift Request: A Christmas with the gang at Deb’s fic, any season. If post season 5, Brian and Justin didn’t break up in 513. Humor/Fluff Rating: R Summary: Ten years post season 5. All the gang is finally getting together for Christmas at Deb’s house, but things start to go wrong… and don’t stop.
A/N: Severina, I really, really hope you like this! I *love* your stories, so I was very nervous when I found out I was writing your gift. It was written with a lot of love. Hugs, Arlad
A Christmas of Unfortunate Events, or How Murphy’s Law Kept Brian From Being Bored to Death.
December 25, 2015. Pittsburgh, PA.
Everything went fucking wrong because of the thing with the turkey. One could argue a few things were rather off before that, but when the thing with the turkey happened, everything just imploded.
+
Brian knew things would somehow go wrong from the moment Debbie called him on December 1st and told him that “You and Sunshine better plan on spending Christmas at my house, none of that going away to Italy or India or whatever. This Christmas is special, and everyone’s gonna be here, including you two, you hear me?” To which Brian could only reply a resigned, “I hear you.”
There was a sense of foreboding in the air that day, one that had nothing to do with how close Brian was to assassinating the Santa Claus singing in the corner of the street because his fucking off-key, stupid carols drifted all the way to Brian’s office. No, Brian felt, deep in his gut, that the “Oh so fucking special Christmas family reunion, so don’t you dare miss it, you asshole” dinner was going to be less than perfect.
However, Deb was really going all out to make sure that everyone came. Thus, December was not only packed with last-minute shit to finish at Kinnetik and annoying Christmas shoppers, it was also adorned by Deb’s threats, coming at both Justin and him in the form of phone calls, messages with Cynthia, and a tuna macaroni casserole with a post-it note stuck on top of it reading, “You fucking better come to Christmas dinner, OR ELSE.” Brian even saw a scary porcelain cat sitting on Theodore’s desk with a similar note stuck on its nose.
“So, I think we have to go to Deb’s,” Justin said, after Brian told him about it. They were drinking Beam, relaxing on the couch in front of the fireplace after a particularly hot round of fucking. Justin loved it when Brian took out his frustration with the holiday season on his ass. “We can do the whole beach thing in New Year’s; go down to Puerto Vallarta or whatever. But it’s pretty cool that everyone is gonna be there,” Justin smiled, snuggling closer to Brian. “I mean, fuck, how long has it been since we’ve all been together for a holiday thing? Has to be three years at least.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
Justin snorted. “Oh, don’t even. You hate it when Gus isn’t there for Sunday dinners, let alone big occasions. And you totally missed Hunter last Thanksgiving. You two act like evil six year olds when you’re together, deliberately baiting Emmett and Michael.”
Brian grinned reluctantly. “Yeah, the littlest hustler is kinda fun.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Brian, he’s twenty-six years old. Not so littlest, and not a hustler.”
“Details, details,” Brian scoffed.
“And what about when Ted was away with Blake the Christmas before last? You were all mopey ‘cause Michael didn’t get your sarcastic literary references, and Ben took the higher ground and refused to make fun of his husband, ‘cause he’s all Buddhist and shit.”
“I do not mope!” Brian exclaimed, deeply offended.
Justin raised his eyebrows, incredulous. “You so do.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Do not.”
“You’re so totally moping because I just told you mope. You big moper.”
Brian opened his mouth, about to retort, but he thought better of it, and leaned in to give Justin a toe-curling, mind-blowing, take-back-what-you-said-or-I-won’t-fuck-you kiss. “Take back what you said, or I won’t fuck you,” Brian whispered against Justin’s lips.
Justin moaned and rubbed himself against Brian, trying to capture his lips again. Brian leaned back, and raised an eyebrow. “Take it baaack,” he said, in a sing song voice.
“Withholding sex is so immature, Brian,” Justin complained. Brian rolled his hips against Justin, and stopped abruptly, eyebrow still raised in challenge. “Oh, fine, I take it back.”
“Take what back?” Brian asked, his lips curling up in a triumphant smile.
“What I said,” Justin huffed, annoyed.
“Say it,” Brian encouraged.
Justin sighed. “Okay. You don’t mope. You’re not a big moper. Happy now?”
Brian nodded, and proceeded to fuck Justin out of conscious thought. Justin was so boneless, Brian had to carry him up to their bedroom. Just before going to sleep, Justin muttered, “You do too mope.”
“Do not.”
“You do. But I love you anyway,” Justin mumbled sleepily.
Brian rolled his eyes and brought Justin closer to him, spooning him from behind. He yawned. “Do not. Love you, too.”
+
When Brian and Justin arrived at Debbie’s house, they stood on the driveway for a few moments before going inside.
“No fucking way. I’m not going in there.”
“Brian, we have to.”
“Justin, there are mechanical dancing elves on the roof,” Brian said, eyes wide with horror. “Dancing elves. On the roof. Dancing.”
“I know, Brian, I see them too. They’re kinda horrible, but at least she didn’t put up all those reindeers she had on at Vic’s Not-Christmas Christmas party.”
“Uh, she did,” Brian said dryly. Justin looked at him questioningly. Brian pointed to a corner of the roof, where the reindeers seemed to be hanging from a red rope.
“They look like they’re committing mass suicide. That can’t be a good thing for J.R. to see,” Justin commented, puzzlement rather than worry coloring his tone.
Brian snorted. “Justin, she lives with Melanie and Lindsay. Her dad is Michael. Her Grandmother is Debbie. I think suicidal reindeers are the least of her problems.”
Justin nodded in agreement. “Well, let’s go. You didn’t forget the bottles, did you?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m counting on alcohol to get me through tonight, wouldn’t have forgotten them for the world,” Brian said vehemently, shaking the big bag he was holding slightly, the sound of bottles clinking against each other clearly reaching Justin’s ears.
“Don’t you think being too drunk in there might be counterproductive? I mean, the decorations might just start talking, or burst into song, or something.”
Brian shrugged. “It’ll make things more interesting. And if I’m so drunk that the dancing elves start to molest me, I’ll just fuck you in the bathroom.”
“Okay,” Justin grinned. “You know, I love how we solve problems like this. Whoever said problem-solving in marriage got more difficult with time was totally wrong.”
“Or they just never experienced one of your problem-solving blowjobs,” Brian pointed out.
“Hmm, true. Or one of your calming-down rim jobs.”
“Not to mention our spectacular make-up fucks,” Brian smiled.
Justin smiled back, and briefly caressed Brian’s cheek with his left hand, the platinum ring in his finger reflecting off the thousands of multi-colored fairy lights crawling all over Deb’s place. “Time to go inside,” he whispered.
Brian took a deep breath and held out a hand for Justin to hold. They rang the doorbell.
The door was opened to reveal Debbie wearing a glittery red gown, with a pattern of glittery green mistletoe around the neck, and her earrings were two Santa Clauses which flashed red every few seconds. “Brian! Sunshine!” she greeted them with an enthusiastic hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Deb… air supply,” Brian gasped out.
“Oh, sorry honey,” Debbie leaned back. She looked at them both, and smiled. “I’m glad you made it.”
“I think you might have gone after us with a killer tuna macaroni casserole if we hadn’t,” Brian said. Justin elbowed Brian, but Debbie patted his cheek indulgently.
“How do you like the décor?” Debbie asked, and thankfully, didn’t wait for an answer before adding, “Look! Don’t you love that wreath? It’s real evergreen, and those are real candles! Carl helped me set it up.”
Justin and Brian glanced to where Debbie was pointing, a tripod set up in the porch with a wreath and candles burning. Brian felt somewhat worried at the fire hazard it presented, but before he could say anything, Debbie spoke.
“Come on in; let me get you some eggnog,” she ushered them inside. Brian and Justin took off their coats just inside the door, looking around them in fear. There wasn’t a square millimeter not covered with tinsel, fairy lights, baubles, Santa Clauses, or mistletoe and evergreen. There were, of course, a few rainbow flags scattered around randomly, and a poster with a scantily clad ‘Santa Claus’ go-go boy which read “Jingle My Balls.”
“It looks like Christmas, Pride, Thanksgiving, Easter and Pancake day, all thrown together and spat out by a vacuum cleaner. On crack. Or on really bad E,” Justin whispered.
“Can I take your coats?” Carl’s voice startled them, and they turned quickly. The retired detective was wearing a forest green sweater featuring Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, whose nose was a huge, puffy, red ball which stuck out of the sweater. Noticing Brian and Justin’s clear dismay, Carl explained, “Early Christmas present from Deb. So, your coats?” he asked again.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Carl,” Justin smiled and Brian nodded, handing him their coats. They walked into the living room, relieved to see they weren’t the first to arrive.
“Hey, Dad,” Gus stood up from the couch and gave Brian a brief hug. Brian remembered, somewhat wistfully, when Gus would jump into his arms yelling “Daddy!”. Still, a hug and a ‘Hey, Dad’ was better than what most parents could get out of a fourteen year old.
“Hey, Sonny Boy,” Brian gave him a small smile. “How are you doing?”
“I feel as if my eyes are going to fall out, but I’m cool otherwise,” Gus smirked.
Brian snorted.
“Gus!” Lindsay admonished, getting up from the couch she was in as well. “Grandma Deb went through a great deal of trouble, making sure this place was… was…”
“Christmas on acid?” Gus supplied.
“No! Nice,” Lindsay said, daring Brian and Gus to say anything more with a scathing look. It was uncanny how much father and son looked like each other, particularly since they often used the same facial expressions. Seeing Brian’s patented raised eyebrow multiplied by two made Lindsay want to laugh, but she fought to keep a serious expression on her face.
“Alright, Linds. If you say it’s nice, it’s nice. Just don’t ever expect I’ll ask you for decorating advice,” Brian said, finally.
“Oh, shut up and come say hello properly.”
Brian complied and gave Lindsay a peck on the lips. “Hello properly,” he said seriously.
Lindsay started laughing, and Gus looked at the two of them as if they were nuts. Brian winked at his son, and went to greet Melanie and J.R.
“Hi, Linds. Hey, Gus man,” Justin smiled at them, giving Lindsay a kiss on the cheek and Gus a hug.
“Hi, sweetie,” Lindsay said. “It’s lovely that we’re all going to be together for once, isn’t it?”
Justin nodded. “I know; it’s been a while. Brian and I were talking about it last night.”
“I think it’ll be totally boring, but whatever,” Gus cut in. “I mean, what’s the big deal about the whole family being together? Someone usually ends up fighting with somebody else, we’re subjected to tragic confessions or annoying queen outs, and Hunter annoys the shit out of me.”
“Gus! Language!” Lindsay exclaimed.
Gus shrugged. “What? It’s true. Plus, if we really wanted to get together, why not just do it? Why choose a consumer-driven, faux good cheer, lame ass holiday?”
“Amen,” Brian sidled next to Gus and put an arm around him. “Sonny Boy, I’m so glad you’re my son. I don’t think I could stand someone else. Kids are so annoying.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Gus said with a small smile.
Justin chuckled. “You two are so fucking weird. That’s like the most random father/son moment I’ve ever seen.”
Brian and Gus both smirked, and Brian gestured for everyone to sit around the living room.
“Uncle Brian, Uncle Brian! Sit next to me!” Jenny Rebecca jumped up and down in her seat, pointing to fairly small empty space beside her.
“Honey, don’t you think Uncle Brian would prefer to sit with Justin?” Lindsay asked tactfully.
“No!” J.R. crossed her arms and glowered at Lindsay, and then at Justin. She finally turned to Brian, using the brown eyes she’d inherited from Michael to maximum advantage, turning on the puppy dog look all the way. “Please, Uncle Brian?”
“Sure, J.R., I’ll sit next to you,” Brian acquiesced, throwing an apologetic smile to Justin. When he took his place next to Jenny, she stared at him with unabashed admiration, and glanced at Justin smugly.
“Perfect, this is just what I needed. My daughter has a crush on Brian Fucking Kinney,” Mel muttered.
+
Within the next twenty minutes, the rest of the gang started trickling in. After Ted and Blake arrived, Ted confessed to Brian that after walking into the house, he’d had a flashback to being on crystal.
Debbie was happily receiving everyone and handing them eggnog, which Ted and Blake immediately got rid off by watering the plants.
“Do you think they’ll die with this?” Blake asked worriedly.
“Oh, it’s just a bit of eggnog. If we can survive it, so can they,” Ted assured him.
Hunter arrived half an hour late, cursing the traffic. “Hey. Can I get a drink? I fucking hate driving in Christmas, people are more stupid than usual.”
Brian stood up to hand him a beer, and Gus muttered, “Maybe it’s just you that gets more stupid than usual.”
Hunter looked at Gus sharply, but Gus gave him an innocent smile back. Brian handed Hunter his beer, and Hunter took a long drink.
“So, where the fuck are your parents?” Brian asked.
Hunter glanced around, taking everyone who was sitting down, standing, or surreptitiously getting rid of eggnog. “They’re not here yet? Last I heard, they were supposed to get in at three o’ clock, with plenty of time to spare to make it to dinner.”
Debbie glanced up from where she was righting a toppled elf in a leather harness. “Three? Fuck! Do you think something happened to them? Someone turn on the T.V.!” she exclaimed.
“Deb, would you calm down? It’s Christmas. The airports are probably understaffed and overpopulated, not to mention the snow can’t be too great for landing,” Brian put a hand on Debbie’s shoulders, speaking reasonably.
“You’re right, you’re right. We’ll just wait for them. Emmett and Drew aren’t even here yet, and Emmett’s bringing the turkey,” Debbie said.
The doorbell rang, and Debbie, Carl, Hunter and Brian went to the door, anxious to see if Ben and Michael had arrived. Deb opened the door to see Drew, who gestured behind him. “Emmett’s coming along in a second; he refused to let me carry the turkey, something about an artist and his creation.”
They all stared past him to see Emmett slowly making his way towards the door, carrying a huge platter with the turkey on top of it. Suddenly, Emmett yelped, and they all saw him go down after slipping with a bit of black ice on the pavement. The turkey flew out of the platter and landed somewhere in the snow.
“Emmett, are you alright?” Panicked, Drew quickly ran to Emmett’s side.
Emmett stood up slowly, wincing. “I’ll be just fine, darling.” He looked around and spotted the turkey lying in the snow. “The turkey, not so much.”
Debbie walked down to the front garden, peering at the turkey. “Hmm… we might be able to wash off the snow, sweetie. It’s not totally lost.”
“Are you suggesting we eat it?” Brian asked, aghast.
“Well, it just took a little tumble off the plate. I don’t see why not,” Debbie shrugged.
“No fucking way I’m eating that,” Brian pointed to the turkey.
“Then don’t eat at all,” Debbie challenged.
“Fine, I won’t,” Brian said, and turned to go back into the house.
“You know, Deb, I have to agree with Brian,” Emmett said cautiously. “I don’t think it’s exactly sanitary to eat the turkey. But you have the honey baked ham, right? We can still eat that.”
Debbie looked thoughtful for a second. “You’re right, sweetie. The ham should do. It’s in the oven right now.”
+
Inside the house, Brian was telling Justin, Lindsay and Melanie about the turkey. Gus was busy eating all of the snacks, and J.R. was drawing what looked suspiciously like Brian; if you looked at her drawing with loads of imagination and a bit of a squint, and if you noticed the obvious staring she was doing.
“Gus, stop eating everything, leave something for everyone else,” Lindsay said, holding a hand out for the bowl of home-made dip Gus was making his way through with chips.
Gus rolled his eyes, and reluctantly handed the bowl over. Lindsay gave a satisfied nod, and took a chip to taste some of the dip.
“Linds, wait! I think-” Mel called out a warning, but it was too late. Lindsay had eaten the chip.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I think that has sesame seeds, and you’re a bit allergic to them,” Melanie explained, frowning.
“I’m sure I’ll be alright,” Lindsay said, but she looked nervous, and headed to the bathroom.
“You have enough allergies yourself without having to keep track of other peoples’,” Brian said. “And it’s a minor allergy. The only thing that happens is-”
“Look at my face!”
Everyone turned to look at Lindsay, who had very, very swollen cheeks. Her face had taken on the shape of a pear.
“Oh, Lindsay, honey, what happened?” Debbie and the rest of them had finally stopped examining the snow-covered turkey and walked into the house. Hunter burst out laughing.
“Hunter, don’t be so insensitive,” Emmett told him. “What’s wrong with your face, sweetheart?” he asked Lindsay.
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and that’s totally sensitive. You don’t ask people what’s wrong with their face, dude.”
Gus started snickering.
“Problem?” Hunter asked him.
“Nope. Just – you sounded totally lame. ‘Dude’ is so passé. I mean, I get that you want to sound young and everything, but saying dude is just really sad,” Gus explained.
“Fucking teenagers. I don’t know how anyone can stand them,” Hunter groused, glaring at Gus.
Brian started laughing so hard he choked on his beer. Everyone looked at him as if he was nuts, except Justin, who looked annoyed and a bit embarrassed.
+
“Where the fuck are they?” Debbie was pacing, and Carl was dialing Michael’s cell phone every fifteen minutes, with no luck.
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” Mel said. “Like Brain said, they were probably delayed.”
“Did you just start a sentence with ‘Like Brian said’?” Ted asked, head cocked. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s allergic to sesame seeds?”
“Shut up, Ted,” Lindsay and Melanie said at once. Lindsay was miserably staring at her own reflection every few seconds in a small mirror. The swelling wasn’t going down.
“Mom, stop staring at your reflection, it’s not that bad,” Gus told her, putting a hand on top of the mirror. Lindsay sighed, and put the mirror away.
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” J.R.’s ear-splitting shriek made everyone turn to look at her. She was staring, horrified, at Brian and Justin, who were making out in a fairly pornographic manner against the kitchen counter. “Uncle Brian is mine!” she ran to where they stood and started punching Justin in the side.
“Ow, fuck!” Justin leaned back from the kiss when he felt the vicious little punches. “What the fuck - I mean, what the heck do you think you’re doing, J.R.?”
“Uncle Brian is mine! You don’t get to kiss him!” Jenny said, not stopping her punches.
“Jenny, stop that!” Melanie rushed to restrain J.R.’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Justin. She’s just a little girl, she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and-”
“I do too know what I’m doing! I’m punching Justin ‘cause he’s kissing Uncle Brian!” Jenny exclaimed, trying to get out of Mel’s hold.
“Honey, but Uncle Brian is Justin’s husband,” Lindsay said, her words a bit unclear because of the swelling.
“No! He’s gonna be my husband when I grow up!” Jenny exclaimed.
“He’s too old for you,” Carl said, reasonably.
Brian glared at him, and started saying something about his age, but Justin elbowed him on the side and whispered, “Do you really want to say you’re not too old for Jenny?”
Brian glanced at him sheepishly, and kept quiet.
“Guys?” Blake said, but everyone ignored him
“Are unrequited crushes on Brian Kinney genetic?” Emmett wondered. Ted shrugged, and Drew tried hard to keep from laughing.
“Brian, would you please tell Jenny that Justin is your husband?” Lindsay asked.
“Guys…” Blake tried tugging on Ted’s arm, but Ted was too busy staring at the drama unfolding before them and didn’t pay attention.
“I refuse to be manipulated into a declaration made solely to please society. I choose when to tell Justin that I love him, and it’s for his ears only, not yours,” Brian told Lindsay.
“We’re not trying to manipulate you, asshole! I mean, asshat! We’re just trying to make my nine year old daughter see why she can’t marry Uncle Brian, creepy incest aside,” Melanie huffed.
“Guys!” Blake exclaimed, desperation in his tone. Everyone still ignored him.
Brian rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He crouched down so he was on eye-level with J.R. “Listen, Jenny. You know you’re my best girl, and I love you… but just as my niece. Justin is my husband, and I love him, so I can’t marry you when you grow up. Okay?”
J.R.’s lip trembled, but she managed a sniffed, “’Kay.”
“FUCKING HELL! GUYS! THE WREATH IS ON FIRE!” Blake finally managed to get everyone’s attention, and they all stared out the window, transfixed, at the burning wreath on the porch. Brian was the first to act, running outside with a bunch of kitchen towels. Ted ran to the kitchen sink to fill a pot with water, and everyone else ran after Brian.
Brian threw the towels on top of the wreath, yelling, “Throw snow on it!”
Everyone quickly skidded to the front garden and the driveway, grabbing as much snow as they could and throwing it on top of the towels. After a few minutes, the fire died.
“Fuck,” Brian whispered. Debbie was completely pale. Just picturing what might’ve happened if the fire had spread made her knees weak.
“I’m coming!” Ted yelled from inside the house, and he ran out carrying a big pot full of water. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the water in the general direction of the wreath, soaking Brian completely.
Complete silence. Then,
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, Bri – I didn’t see you,” Ted started speaking nervously. “If you want to fire me that’s fine, I – I’ll buy you a new suit to replace that one, I’m so-”
Brian held a hand up for Ted to be quiet, and after glancing down at himself, he started chuckling. Ted glanced at Justin, frightened. Perhaps Brian had finally cracked, and he was going to turn into a serial killer now, and Ted would be his first victim. Oh, shit. Ted didn’t want to die. He took a careful step back.
“Brian?” Justin asked, approaching him as one might approach a deranged peacock. “Are you – are you alright?”
Brian was still laughing. “I’m fine,” he finally wheezed out.
A sudden beeping sound coming from the kitchen made everyone freeze.
“Oh, shit! The ham!” Debbie ran inside. “Fuck! It’s burnt!” She headed outside once more, looking dejected. “I’m so sorry. Now we don’t even have ham to eat.” She glanced at Brian, whose shoulders were still shaking with silent mirth. “What’s so funny, asshole?”
Brian laughed out loud. “It’s just that… this is the worst Christmas dinner ever. A meteor would have to hit the Earth for things to go more wrong than they have.”
“And that’s supposed to be funny?” Mel asked, dumbfounded.
“Well… yeah!”
The gang stared at Brian for a moment, but, eventually, Justin, Gus, Hunter and J.R. started laughing. Everyone else joined in soon enough.
“What the fuck is up with all of you?” Ben and Michal walked up the driveway, looking at the charred wreath, the smoking kitchen towels, and at everyone scattered around the porch laughing like mad-men.
Brian, still dripping, walked up to them. “Mikey! Professor! You’re just in time.”
“In time for what?” Ben asked, clearly wondering if Brian was in his right mind.
“In time to take this party elsewhere.”
+
“Pass me the Kung-Pao chicken, will you?” Ted held a hand out to Emmett, and Emmett gave him the white box.
The whole gang was sitting down on the floor of the loft, passing around take-out boxes and drinking beer. After Ben and Michael had arrived, Brian had taken charge, ushering everyone into cars and telling them to go to the loft. Justin and he had kept the loft to have a place to crash in emergencies, and because they didn’t really feel like giving up the place that had meant so much to them. When everyone was on their way, Brian called a client of Kinnetik’s, a Chinese restaurant off Liberty Avenue. With some cajoling and a sufficient monetary incentive, dinner was procured.
“This has to be the most un-Christmas Christmas dinner I’ve ever had,” Justin told Brian, making his way through the dumplings.
“Well, like we saw, apparently Christmas and us is not a good mix,” Brian pointed out.
Justin had to agree. He looked around, taking in Ben and Michael regaling a fairly bored-looking Hunter and an excited Debbie with tales of Ben’s book tour; Ted feeding Blake chicken; Emmett trying to steal Drew’s shrimp; Melanie assuring Lindsay that her face would go back to normal in the morning, and that she still looked beautiful. Gus snorted when he heard that. J.R. seemed to be developing a new crush… on Hunter.
“Fuck, that’s even more screwed up than crushing on you,” Justin said, when he noticed the adoring glances Jenny was giving Hunter.
“I told you, suicidal reindeers are the least of her problems.”
Justin nodded, and took a deep drink from his beer. He looked at Brian, a smile adorning his face.
“What?” Brian asked, when he noticed Justin looking at him.
“It’s just… this may be the most un-Christmas Christmas dinner ever… but… I think it’s been my favorite.”
Brian looked incredulous. “Sunshine, I can’t imagine a more disastrous Christmas.”
Justin grinned. “Exactly. Like you said, everything went wrong. Everything, except all of us being together.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a cornball.”
“Oh, shut up! Plus, it was funny as hell. Especially when Ted soaked you,” Justin reminisced, a teasing smile on his face.
“You’ll pay for that,” Brian raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to Justin.
“Promises, promises,” Justin whispered.
Brian closed the distance between them, and kissed him.