#britin fic

[kinnenvy]

qaf wip #1

victorian qaf wip, im 💀. like i was saying idk if i'll ever finish this, but here's a little snippet just to feel something

Dripping. Continuous, incessant, tormenting.

The steady, wet sound echoes through the room and fills the blissfully silent air, it sneaks past any barrier Justin crafts. His hands on his ears, his pillows, then his covers, the weight and width of his shield can do nothing against the quiet drip, drip, drip…

Justin quickly surrenders to watching the water fall from the roof of his room and land loudly in the tin bucket prepared to welcome it. It's unbearable and Justin misses home, misses his room. He misses the comfort of his sturdy mattress, his feather pillows and the maids making sure the stoves warming the rooms never run out of wood and coal.

Justin breathes out slowly, if he had any energy left he would thrash against the coarse bed sheets and throw a tantrum embarrassing enough to rival his younger sister's. Unfortunately, or one could argue fortunately, any will to explode into fits of unadulterated rage has abandoned him the moment his father backhanded him over the breakfast table and threw him, his mother and sister out of their family home and effectively out of the country.

He grabs his pillow, its smell of stale wardrobes and lavender follows him all the way through the large room and out of it. He trudges through the halls of their new accommodation, overtly conscious of the wood creaking under his slippers and the portraits of his grandparents, uncles and younger versions of his mother following him with their eyes as he warily walks in the near complete dark.

Remembering the position of the door he is looking for is giving him a lot of trouble, but eventually he gets the courage to open every door he encounters. He releases a nervous breath, once he finally opens the door hiding his mother. Molly, his sister, is already sleeping by her side and Justin is comforted by the knowledge that they've both had the same idea.

"Mother…" Justin whispers and sounds much more forlorn than he would have liked, "Mom." 

She takes a sharp inhale, almost startled, but she quickly seems to relax. Although Justin can't tell for sure, the lunar light filtering in the spaces between the curtains doesn't illuminate the room enough to let him see.

"There's a leak in my room, I feel like it might drive me mad." Justin explains as a way to secure himself a spot in his mother's bed.

"Sweetheart…" She sighs, "I'm sorry, we'll find a new place soon." The thick woolly covers are drawn back and Justin quickly moves to adjust himself underneath them, "You should tell your grandfather tomorrow. He'll have someone come and patch it up."

"Right…" Justin hums, trying not to think about how many perfectly functional, unoccupied rooms void of any leaks, he saw on his way to his mother's.

He's not sure how long it's been since he's gotten in his mother's bed, when he's awoken by shouting rising from the streets. Despite the coldness swirling in the stale air in the room and its difference from the warmth of the covers, he gathers the will to pull himself up on his feet and reach the nearest window. 

Near the middle of the crossroad on the right of his grandfather's house, there are two gentlemen, dressed in elegant evening coats and tight, light coloured pants. They seem to be fighting, Justin watches them as they push and shove at each other until the tallest of the two grabs the other by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him towards himself. Their faces meet and Justin jolts away as he realises they're kissing.

His ears start burning, his cheeks slowly heat up as well. Slowly, he creeps closer to the glass again, by the time his eyes are back on the scene his whole face and neck must be dyed in varying shades of red, all bound to deepen as he catches the gaze of one of the men. Thick furrowed eyebrows, a head of dark, purposefully unruly hair and a profile sculpted with the same platonic inspiration that used to fuel renaissance men.

The day begins with another tense breakfast, but thankfully Justin's face is not met by the rough palm of anyone's hand. Despite the fact that his grandfather makes it clear he wouldn't mind issuing a dose of discipline through methods that involve physical pain. He says as much as he eats his coque eggs messily, even though his words nail his father as the sole villain, he waves his spoon menacingly right under Justin's nose and then at his mother and sister.

"I shouldn't have let you marry a man without a title," He says gruffly, the grunting accompanying his words reminds Justin of the old, pink pigs, he uses to see every month, when his father took him to town fairs. "My own daughter, a duke's daughter, banished from her house!" He complains aimlessly throughout their entire meal, while Justin's mother, unsure of her own stance, releases noncommittal noises to let him know she is listening.

Molly doesn't eat anything and as soon as their grandfather leaves the table, she cries and asks to be allowed back home. Justin is conflicted, but underneath the embarrassment and the swelling on his right cheek, he wishes for the same thing.

"I need to go out." is what he ends up saying, he doesn't elaborate, but is also met by no resistance. His mother looks at him with concern, but she's so preoccupied by his sister's soul-shaking sobs, that she just dismisses him with a gesture of her hand and a call for carefulness.

His grandfather hasn't been involved with the military for the better part of forty years, yet he operates by its hours. Wake up call at half past five and breakfast at six, that's why Justin finds himself roaming the streets at seven am sharp.

The air hasn't had the time to be warmed by the Sun, so it's especially cold, it pushes past the barrier of Justin's expensive clothes and forces itself on him, frigid like ice and carrying the tangy scent of coal smoke.

Justin is startled out of his thoughts by a door opening, the mansion standing right in front of his mother's family home. He watches the large entrance door, its solid wood dragging over the threshold and uncovering the same man Justin saw the night before.

He is caught staring, it's embarrassing and it makes the calm wind feel a tad colder. 

Without letting himself rot in the memories from the earlier night, Justin starts walking again. He doesn't have a cane and it's too cold to pick the hat off his head and start fidgeting with it, so he tries to discharge some of the nervousness gathering in his body by shoving his hands in his pockets and clench and unclench his fists, pull at whatever loose thread he finds there, do just about anything to stop thinking about the set of footsteps echoing his own.

The man easily reaches his side, they're walking through the intersection when his shoulder bumps into Justin's, he turns to look at him and doesn't do anything to hide how deliberate the move was.

"Sorry." He says without gravitas, his pink lips part in a smile that conveys no friendliness, but snark and other feelings that Justin is not privy to. His eyes, dark and light at the same time, drag very openly over Justin, starting at his leather boots and ending at his own clear, uncomplicated blue eyes. "I haven't seen you around before." He speaks with a thick Irish accent, his voice is steady, but weighed down by the layers of meaning hiding under the surface of each word he utters.

"I'm visiting my grandfather." Justin lowers his eyes to the ground and gestures at the house he's just left. He doesn't dare looking back at it, afraid to see anyone peering through the windows and seeing the exchange.

Long, deft fingers enter his line of vision, they grab onto the golden buttons on his coat and smooth over the forest green fabric, moving upwards until they brush against Justin's chin.

"Oh, a Taylor. A lord, then." He dips his head in a bow, but he sounds like he is mocking him, "Do you have urgent business to attend to?" Justin shakes his head no at his question, dares a glance upwards and feels his breakfast drop so deep inside his stomach that the hunger comes back, only much worse, much more demanding than normal.

The flurry of movements that follow is hard to keep track of, Justin is only looking at the greek slope of the man's nose, at the self-satisfied stretch of his lips as they cross the intersection and quickly disappear in an alley between two mansions. Justin is pushed against a wall, for a brief moment there’s the stench of garbage in the air, until the man in front of him lowers his head towards him and Justin’s nose is hit by the artificial scent of expensive cologne and hints of musk right underneath it, the smell of men he can so easily pick out of any bouquet of scents.

Solid hands make quick work of his golden buttons, Justin instinctively poses his own on them and holds onto the cold skin, half of him in an attempt to slow them, while the other to encourage them.

“What,” He starts and his voice breaks. The man laughs and Justin halts the systems running his body just to gather all his energy to stare and take him in. Brilliant and beautiful, dazzling like the people in songs and paintings. “What is your name?” he tries again as soon as he’s able to retake the reins on his wits.

“Brian.” His voice lowers, it drips slowly like treacle, he raises his chin and squares his shoulders, Justin follows the movement with his eyes and gulps down all the other questions he had been thinking about asking.

"My name is Justin." He says instead, even if the other didn't ask and doesn't seem particularly interested in knowing it. Justin hopes it will stick with him anyway.

"What do you like to do?" Brian asks, he leans his right arm on the wall beside Justin's face, while his left hand still fidgets with his buttons, this time they are the small, round ones cut from mother-of-pearl keeping his shirt closed.

A smile breaches Justin's lips, he is so pleased by the idle conversation, it's just enough to help him keep his mind off the anxiety clamouring right under his skin."Uhm… Painting, listening to music…" 

Brian laughs, it feels sort of pointed, genuinely amused, but still mocking, "I mean in more… Private settings." He explains and his head dips until his lips brush right against his left temple as he speaks. Justin’s mouth opens and his jaw goes slack at hearing someone be so upfront.

"Oh," Justin clears his throat and almost chokes on his spit, the anxiety now reaching heights that cross any expectation he could have ever had.

"Do you like to give it? Do you prefer taking it?" The question immediately transports Justin back to the military academy he's just been driven away from. The hushed whispers of his shy, aristocratic roommates asking him in big boisterous words whether he wanted to touch them over their slacks or not. 

“Uhm,” Justin shifts on his feet, unsure of what to say. The questions are so straightforward now that it’s impossible to search and find in them some sort of innocent meaning. The issue becomes all jumbled up in his head anyway, he’s never really taken or given anything in these situations and he can’t imagine what he could be giving or taking in an alleyway a few metres away from his grandfather’s house.

“I don’t have all morning.” The man, Brian, straightens up, “Do you want to?” He asks, he narrows his eyes and peers right into Justin. Justin is not completely sure what he’s agreeing to, but he finds himself nodding enthusiastically, his hands grasp the other man’s tighter and guide them more forcefully towards his half opened shirt.

Brian’s fingers are nimble and used to touching to provoke pleasure. Justin squirms and trembles as he traces the faint lines of his muscles, the sensitive skin of his nipples, hard and dark pink in the chilly air.

“You’re pretty.” Brian says against his chest, his lips press kisses on his sternum as he slowly lowers himself to his knees, “Wish I had the time to fuck you.”

The word sounds so loud in the early morning silence, Justin feels it echo and bounce off the walls all around them. For a moment his panic convinces him the entirety of the west end must have heard it, but then the buttons keeping the crotch of his pants closed are undone with ease and his half hardness stands out in the open. Anyone could take a wrong turn, or a maid could come trotting out of one of the houses surrounding them and see them. They would end up on the first page of the Inquirer Weekly and then in jail and Justin’s father will absolutely never forgive him then.

“Hey,” Brian says and looks up from where he’s kneeling on the pavement, “Are you still with me?” he asks, darting his eyes betwixt Justin’s face and his shrinking erection. 

“This is a bit,” Justin starts, he scratches his throat, almost claws at it out of frustration, wanting so much what he is being offered, but also being deathly afraid of anyone finding out, “What if someone sees?”

“Who? No one’s staying in these houses, they’ve been empty for quite a while.” Brian arches an eyebrow, his hot palms lay on Justin’s thighs and he caresses him gently, an attempt at soothing him that’s working only marginally against the thoughts rushing in his head. He raises back on his feet and Justin hates himself for having ruined the chance to lay with such a gorgeous man. “It’s fine, dear. Don’t worry about it.” He can tell he’s trying to be gracious, his pants are terribly tented and he can’t stop himself from biting on his lips, as if holding himself back from saying anything more. Justin feels Brian’s lips kiss his temple and then sees him take a step back, retracing the path they’ve followed to find this isolated, secretive angle.

Justin feels him slip through his fingers, his eyes are fixed on the lines of his nose, his jaw, any detail of his features, the beautiful mix of green and amber in his eyes and in a moment he’s stepping forward, “No.” He says, more to himself than the other man, and rises on his toes to kiss him fiercely. It’s clumsier than he would have liked, but the wet slide of their lips is ensnaring to him, the sound alone is enough to make his knees buckle under his weight. His cock is hard again, harder than it’s ever been, Brian touches him again and he fears he might come just with that alone.

Brian doesn’t speak anymore, doesn’t ask leading questions, doesn’t mock and laugh at him. Although he does moan, deep and guttural in Justin’s ears, he kisses him and keeps a tight hold on the back of Justin’s head and his cock. Justin isn’t able to appreciate the scope of sensations he is experiencing, his extremities feel as cold as ice as if all the blood and warmth of his body were concentrating between his legs and in the left hand, secured tightly around Brian.

They stroke each other to completion in no time, Justin feels himself go a little crossed eyed as he pushes as close to Brian as he can, demanding to be kissed, while nearing his climax. Brian indulges him, but he also shifts the positions of their bodies until Justin’s coming against a wall instead of Brian’s clothes. Brian is coming mere seconds later, his hot breath marking Justin’s neck and his hand fidgeting with the strands of his blonde hair.

“Now, this is what I call a good morning.” Brian smiles slyly, Justin’s blood is finally free to roam the entirety of his body and it rushes to his face, showing just how embarrassed he feels by what he’s just done. Quickly they both dress themselves, Justin doesn’t need the help, but he doesn’t protest when Brian reaches around him and he tucks his spent cock back into his trousers, “Thank you for the generous breakfast.” He says and with a slap to Justin’s ass he walks out of the alleyway. Justin is left fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt until he realises what has just happened. He lowers his head, torn between the elation left behind by his orgasm and the need for more. His eyes see a small booklet on the floor, without thinking about it he bends down and picks it up.

He runs, his steps sound awfully loud, despite the fact that most of the lords, ladies, misters and madams inhabiting the houses around him have woken up and have started flooding the streets. Justin is sure he can still see Brian’s wide shoulders walk forward, far from him, but before he can pick up his running again, he is caught, captured by his grandfather’s hand on his shoulder, “Accompany me to the club, boy.” he says in a tone that won’t allow anything other than affirmative answers.

So Justin is left behind, as they wait for the carriage, with the badge of an inspector detective of the metropolitan police in his hands, bound in black leather and hiding the picture of the man he just saw come apart in an empty alley.

[sophsun1]

Queer as Folk – 2.19: Bowling for Equality

[brian-kinney-apologist]

tell me why instead of sleeping because I have to wake up in less than 4 hours I kinda started to write a britin gap filler fic based on this tags of mine:

am I insane?? probably. do I care tho????.........

[thissugarcane]

Don't know why, if I'm gonna write Brian's pov, that this is where I went. not even sure if this is going to be more than a few lines, but brian, post-prom.

~

it's four in the morning.

...it's four in the morning a lot in Brian's world.

Right now, it's four in the morning and he's waiting for... news.

Michael sits beside him, worried and anxious, touching his hair, his neck, avoiding the scarf around his-- Brian would be furious at the care if he were anything but dead inside, feeling weight crush, oh, everything.

He thinks to himself, if he survives, I promise I'll stay away from him. He prays, please, if he's just okay. I'll never see him again.

Time flows strangely in the hospital. It's four in the morning. Somehow it becomes lunchtime, Michael thrusting a dry, horrid sandwich in his hands. Brian eats it mechanically, because fighting is too much work. He sleeps upright for a while, trapped in vague nightmares, the sound of wood on--

He wakes, silently, drinks the bottles of water Michael forces on him, stares down the hallway. Paces one end to the other. Goes outside for more cigarettes than is healthy. Distantly, Brian knows he should go home, shower, sleep. Get better.

"Is there anything..."

Michael. Good old Michael. Brian's voice is raspy. "Go buy me some more cigarettes, and for fuck's sake, quit worrying."

Won't happen. Brian has to try.

At some point, Daphne comes to find him in his endless hallways in this endless wait, and Brian's emotions perk up, then plummet; news, then. There's tear-tracks on her face, salt on her cheeks, but she's smiling. "He opened his eyes," she confirmed. "They... they won't know too much more for a while yet, maybe hours, but he--"

She keeps talking, not that Brian hears it. The crushing weight is gone from his lungs, a strange grief takes its place. That's that, then. And he promised.

He walks out of the hospital without a word, abandoning Michael to explain-- nothing at all.

~

Brian goes home, showers, sleeps for fourteen hours, and convinces Michael he should go to Portland. He powers through another week of Novotny worry with xanax and a lifetime of lying about nothing being wrong. Michael gets on a plane, and then it becomes four am all too often.

No one else notices.

Brian spends four am staring through the window at Justin's sleeping face; makes nice with the night nurse so they'll break confidentiality regulations for him. Either something in his face or Justin's file means the nice one is willing to share what she knows; Brian never asks if Justin actually put something down that he gets whatever information he wants. The kid is eighteen now, so his parents don't get their say, not first anyway.

The nurse tells him, without being asked, that he's on the list of approved visitors; one that gets longer and longer the longer Justin's in the hospital. Steadily improving.

Brian never goes in, never talks to Justin.

~

He knows prayers are bullshit.

He knows god is bullshit.

But Brian can't help but be superstitious. And besides. he doesn't break promises. not ones to justin.

[ohkate]

Sometimes I see the little drabble fics challenges and I always think that I'd like to try my hand at writing something again because, hey, I have a filthy mind and it's been almost 20 years since i wrote my first and only fanfic. I could probably handle writing something small like that.

But then I panic and feel the fanfic world is like a party with all the cool girls that I wasn't invited to. So they're going to make me feel awful about it like it's high school all over again and I end up in the bathroom with their dog all night.

[lostcol]

queer as folk rec list (#1)

Wooooo finally, sorry it took so long @bethespark ​ ♥

(This is also... inspiration for @eusuntgratie , but no pressure, we’re all well aware of your completely normal and sedate decent into hockey rpf that has consumed your soul and fic life.)

This will be the first post of a few; when I was going through my QAF bookmarks I came across way too many fics I want to rec. No real theme to these, there’s a variety of topics/themes/vibes.

ALL FICS ARE BRITIN/BRIAN X JUSTIN <3

The One Where Justin Loses His Hearing by LaVieEnRose

Series summary: AU after Season 4. The year Justin turns 23, he and Brian get the news that over the next year he's going to gradually lose all of his hearing. The series tracks the next years of their life as they manage their new reality, after-effects of the bashing, their eventual move to New York, and their ever-evolving relationship. Told in first-person chapters from their points of view and some outsiders, with some angst, a lot of hurt/comfort, and loads of humor. Never any big relationship drama, always disability-positive, and no one ever takes themselves too seriously. This isn't a WIP, per se, because all the stories are their own complete thing. It's just a collection of stories in a universe, so it's not going to have some definite end.

Absolutely my #1 rec. Listen, I know you’re going to open it and go holy shit this girl’s insane; it’s a series of one shots set in a universe, currently at 157 one shots and over 800,000 words. But because it’s a series of self-contained one shots, there’s no need to read it all, rush through, whatever. It’s amazing and so so worth it. Just check out the first fic, trust me. Most fics are M, some T, one or two E.

A Queer as Folk Halloween by Brynneth

Rated E, 4K, canon compliant

Summary:  A Halloween costume party, Brian and Justin style. Which of them will win the bet to decide what costumes they will wear?

This is possibly the first fic I read involving subspace. Funny and hot.

Sunshine is a Fucking Dick by Frayach

Rated M, 4K, canon compliant

Summary: Hurt/Comfort? Hurt/Comfort's bullshit.

Brian has cancer and the only way he’ll accept his Sunshine’s help is if he’s a dick about it. This is so good, I’ve reread it a bunch of times.

Contacts by LaVieEnRose

Rated G, 800 words, canon compliant

Summary: Over the years, they saved each other under different names.

What it says on the tin. How and why they’ve saved each other under different names in their phones over the years. Very cool character/relationship insight.

Fatherhood by PrettyTheWorld and TrueIllusion 

Rated M and E, 94K, 5 one shots (so far), post-series

Series summary: A series of one shots that focus on Brian's relationship with teenage Gus.

Really good series set post-series, Justin and Brian are living in NYC and Brian’s son Gus, who was 5 when the show ended, is a teenager living in Canada with his moms. Brian sometimes struggles to navigate parenting a teen, but he’s grown a lot and is determined to have a good relationship with his son, unlike his father’s relationship with him. On the softer side, some super sweet moments, some angst, some humor. 

[wildlydone]

Top Tier Britin Fic

A character study of Brian from his Guardian Angel's perspective (AKA Vic Grassi). This is honestly the best representation of Brian I have ever read. This fic runs through Brian's childhood, canon events, and after Justin leaves for New York as they try to maintain a long distance situationship. But Brian is in need of an emotional intervention when he starts spiraling and what better way to knock some sense into him than Vic punking him?

10/10 fav Britin fic absolutely 💯

(such emotion, such angst with comfort, excellent character study, so beautiful)

[slayerchick303]

NO! I just went to write more of my Queer as Folk Britin fic, only to find that the 3,000 words I wrote the other day didn't save!

I wrote on my phone because my computer hasn't worked in over a week. Writing on my phone takes at least twice as long because my phone's speech-to-text is garbage.

I have 50,000 words written and outlines for a few more chapters, but I'm honestly considering throwing out the whole story. My work is terrible anyway, so it's not like it'd be a loss.

Does anyone want to read this story? If not, I'll abandon it.

[chenfordsrollisi]

Full Britin Fic Roundup

This list will contain all of the Britin fics I’ve written so far: A Christmas to Remember A Last Goodbye A Lesson Learned A Memory Returned  Bamboo Flute Blue Eyes Decisions, Decisions The First Time I Saw Him The Four Letter Word  Fun at Wal*Mart Hazel Eyes Ice Cream Kisses Invested I’m Still Here It Wasn't You Listen to Your Heart The Night Before Christmas Nothing Has Changed Only This Pain Positive The Real Thing So Much More Special Christmas Starting Over Strong Enough With Eyes Wide Open 

[pagingdr-iverson]

Trying to decide weather I wanna post my fics absolutely COMPLETELY CATEGORICALLY anonymous out chea OR if I want to link em back to me. Nervous about it. Hm. Any thoughts would be appreciated. Gonna begin typing em up. Soon.

[classic-maya]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Queer as Folk (US TV 2000), Queer As Folk - Fandom Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk) Characters: Brian Kinney (Queer as Folk), Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk) Additional Tags: Service Top, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, No Lube, Missing Scene, Gap Filler, Spit As Lube Summary:

“It’s what made you hard” he taunts and pushes a hand down Justin’s pants to feel up the very same hard on.

“You’re hard now just thinking about it.” He breaths into Justin’s mouth, centimeters away, “the danger…the excitement.”

Justin grabs Brian by his hair in a punishing grasp and yanks his head back until they are eye to eye “Fuck. Me.” He demands.

*** Missing scene from 2x10. Takes place right after Brian and Justin have that discussion about the killing and the idea of being turned on by danger. AKA: what happens after this scene (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rA6ragFL7zs&ab_channel=FANDOM)

[kinnenvy]

new fic, brian and justin talk about the time brian fucked ben, 3k words, rated E........................................................ idk

[sophsun1]

do u have any good qaf fic recs that takes place after the show ended. either bri going to nyc to see justin, or justin coming home

Hey anon!

These are some of my most favourite fics to read for britin in this qaf universe, I have tagged one story but please check out their story archive to see what else they've written. Some are continuing on from canon and some become AU. All these wonderfully talented writers capture their voices so, so well and for me it feels very realistic and true to how their story would continue. So I wish you well on your reading endeavour and make sure to give these amazing people lots of love in their comments because fic writing and all writing in general is such an art form and definitely not something I could do!

I would also suggest checking out the writers bookmarks where you can find other stories and fellow writers they love so you discover new stuff that way also.

I'm actually so behind in reading myself as I'm usually too busy giffing them I haven't had time to catch up, so I will be flooding their comments as soon as I can. I will tag some of the writers that I know are here on tumblr and if anyone else has any recs or wants to plug their own stories please do!

@ivysunna

@winderlylandchime

@lostcol

https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account

[winderlylandchime]

last line

I was tagged by @lostcol <3 <3 <3

I assume this means the last line I typed and, well, sorry to @lostcol because I haven't written anything since I messaged you with what I had written...

I sat on the couch, my back to the bathroom, sipping scotch. Feeling the warm, smoky burn in my throat, as the loft filled with steam that carried the scent of Justin, of Justin wet and naked in my shower, and contemplated how this kid who would not stop touching me, even when I was begging him to give me a fucking half-inch of personal space, a single breath of air that was my own, couldn’t bear to let me touch him 

I am no pressure tagging (like seriously no pressure, just if you want to): @sheisraging @ivysunna @bartbarthelme and anyone else who sees this and has a WIP and wants to participate. Just say I tagged you.

[thissugarcane]

this has nothing to do with either of the fics I should be writing AND YET--

I can't ever come up with a happy post-canon canonical scene because I don't know if I believe that the story, as it was written, has one.

~

"You remember when Justin's dad kicked him out?" Brian slurs.

Ted sips his sparkling water with lemon, surreptitiously checking the message from Blake: <em>don't worry stay with him wake me up when you get here</em>.

"Ted?"

"Uh, sure Bri." Ted focuses on his very drunk boss and very morose friend. Not that he's let anyone else see him this brooding; no. He's putting on a good front for everyone else.

(Another drunk night, he'd explained the reasoning: he didn't want anybody reporting to Justin that he was going off the rails and needed Justin to come back. Which was sad for a whole other set of reasons.)

Ted shifts on the fancy leather couch Brian bought for his office far more for style than comfort. "He kicked your ass outside Babylon as I recall. There were dirges played for your black eye later that night."

"Christ. What an asshole," Brian mutters. "Even then, I knew he'd outgrow me."

"What?"

Ted watches Brian stare off into the distance, eyes blank. (He's been doing that a lot lately: blanking out his expressions. It's worrying Ted, and Cynthia, and it would be worrying Michael if they were close anymore the way Michael thinks they are.)

"Justin," Brian repeats, as if it's stupid for Ted not to follow the conversation Brian's having mostly in his head.

This is how a lot of their late night work nights go, these days. You'd think it would mean Ted might've gotten better at deciphering the few words Brian says, but alas, no.

"Justin... you thought he'd outgrow you?" Ted repeats, confused.

"I knew he would. And he did. Christ, who wouldn't be proud of him for leaving?"

Now Brian sounds a bit wistful in all the slurring. Brian puts his half empty glass on the designer coffee table, ignoring the coasters. "Come on, Schmidt. Time to leave."

Ted can't say anything. It's ludicrous to think that Brian believes this when he's sober. It's... just the alcohol.

Brian gives him a bit of a smirk, a ghost of his usual expression. "I'm fine, mother."

Ted wants to argue -- categorically the one thing Brian is not is fine. But if he argues, next time Brian will just drink alone.

So he says carefully, "take a cab, all right? For me."

"Ugh," is Brian's only response. But he puts away his car keys. It's really all Ted can do about it.

They walk out of Kinnetik together, and as they part ways -- Brian to his cab, Ted to his car and then, Blake, sleeping in his bed -- Ted feels like he's failing as a friend completely. But he doesn't know what else to do, short of calling Justin for an intervention... and he knows that's one thing Brian won't forgive.

[ardent-fox]

✨ Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thank you to my darlings, @heymacy, @deedala, @lingy910y and @thepupperino for tagging me 🥰💖

Name: Lyds 🌷

Age: I've been 27 for nine years.

Your time zone: GMT +1 (yes, it's late).

What do you do for work? ✨ Nothing ✨ I sometimes print/cut materials for my husband's home business while he's at work at his actual job.

Do you have any pets? Jasper, our five year old harlequin mini lop rabbit.

What first drew you to this fandom? Seeing comments about Gallavich under Britin youtube videos got me interested in the series, came to Tumblr to write for Galladrabbles while I was still in the middle of watching it, realized how freaking nice and talented everyone here is and never looked back 💖

Are you a morning person or a night owl? As much as I try to mold myself into a morning person, I'm biologically wired to be a night owl.

What are your hobbies? Consuming narrative media, hiking, thinking about writing, sometimes even doing it 👏

How tall are you? 5'9" (175 cm).

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? Gonna agree with Keely and say that New Zealand has been looking good these days.

Favorite color? Dusty blue 🩵

Favorite book? To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

Favorite movie? Almost Famous 🤘

Favorite fic? Whichever I'm reading at the moment.

Favorite musical artist: Right now? My Broadway obsession has been pushed into overdrive since Hazbin Hotel came out, I will spare you the details. Historically, it's Prince 💜

What is your average screen time so far this week? I have forgotten how to check this 👵

What's the first app you open in the morning? It varies, not too big on scrolling my phone as soon as I wake up.

How long have you been on Tumblr? Two years active, I think I made an account about five years prior but never used it.

Finally (and I know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: I've spent a lot of time at video stores as a kid/teen trying to choose which movie to rent and can in turn guess the name of pretty much any movie poster that came out prior to them closing down (exciting life I've lead, I know 😅).

Tagging @look-i-love-u, @rereadanon, @metalheadmickey, @blue-disco-lights, @gallawitchxx, @heymrspatel, @crossmydna, @tanktopgallavich, @jrooc, @vintagelacerosette, @xninetiestrendx, @mikhailoisbaby, @sleepyfacetoughguy and anyone who sees this and wants to play! ✨️