#qaf fic

[bisexualdawnsummers]

humbly submitting a prompt for that post, brikey (obviously) & three words: “let’s fucking leave”

also acknowledging that I saw your tag so i totally don’t expect u to have to do it, just wanted to participate :D

Thank you so much for the prompt! I went with teen!brikey. I hope you like it :)

...

Michael groaned, face scrunching up as a persistent tap tap tap dragged him out of sleep. He squinted his eyes open. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of his Captain Astro nightlight–the one Brian had been teasing him about for the past three years.

“Aw, little Mikey still needs a nightlight.” Michael would get pissed and sulky, but then Brian would slide his long arms around Michael, wrapping him up completely, and press his lips against Michael’s cheek, whispering in his ear how cute he was when he was mad. Michael was always helpless to fight against the affection, turning to putty in Brian’s arms. 

“Brian.” It wasn’t unusual for that name to be the first thing on Michael’s lips when he woke up; his friend was often the subject of his dreams. Was he dreaming now or was that really Brian’s silhouette crouched down outside his window? The tip of a cigarette glowed bright orange-red in the blue-black night. He shot up in bed, eyes wide. This wasn’t a dream. “Brian?” He kicked the sheets tangled around his feet away. He stumbled sleepily across the room and slid the window open. 

“Hey, Mikey.” Brian crushed his cigarette out on the windowsill. “Haven’t seen these in a while,” he huffed, lips curling up as he snapped the waistband of Michael's boxers, which were, unfortunately, also Captain Astro themed.

Michael pressed his lips together and batted Brian’s hand away before bringing his arms up to try and cover his bare torso. It was late August, and the air was dense and muggy. They’d had to cut down on using the AC to save money; the slow creaking whir of the ceiling fan was all Michael had to keep him cool. He was just thankful he had decided against sleeping naked and at least had the Captain on his side covering his ass. Michael sighed. “Did you just come here in the middle of the night to give me shit or–Oh!” Michael froze as Brian tilted his head to the side and the moonlight caught his face, showing the bruise blooming on his cheek and the split in his bottom lip. “Christ Brian! What–” Michael didn’t need to finish the question. “That motherfucker.” His jaw clenched, fingers curling to fists at his sides. 

Brian snorted. “Hardly. Maybe if he fucked ol’ Joanie more often she wouldn’t be so uptight. Though, I doubt he can fit it in with that stick taking up so much room. Guess I can’t really blame the son of a bitch for his extra-marital activities.” He sighed and waved his hand at the open window. “So, are you going to let me the fuck in or not?” 

“Oh, sorry.” Michael blinked, taking a step back to let Brian clamber over the sill. Brian straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. His face was shuttered, emotionless, but his eyes were red-rimmed. Michael's chest ached looking at him. He reached up his hand, thumb brushing lightly beneath his lip. Brian didn’t wince at the contact but Michael did. Michael’s anger flared back. He shook his head hard. “That bastard can’t keep getting away with this shit. There’s got to be something we can do.” 

“There is.” Brian’s voice was low and steely with determination. “Let’s fucking leave.” 

Michael’s mouth dropped open. “Leave? But…we can’t.” Could they?

“Why not? What the fuck is keeping us in the Pitts? This place is dead. It’s beneath us. Come on.” He gripped Michael’s hips, pressed in close. “Let’s take the Brian and Mikey show on the road. Just you and me. We don’t need anything else. Anyone else.” 

Michael’s heart was jackhammering in his chest. He wanted to say yes. To take Brian by the hand and leap out the window; a couple of lost boys escaping off to Never-Neverland. But then he thought about all the bills piling up in the drawers in the kitchen, those angry red Final Notices. About his Ma hunched over, killing herself working day and night at the diner. He thought about Uncle Vic’s shadowed eyes, the pain lurking under his smile like he felt guilty sometimes for still being alive. The meager paycheck Michael got for bagging groceries part-time wasn’t much, but it made a difference. 

The fire in Brian’s eyes dimmed. The slant of his mouth was bittersweet; it was like he had seen every thought in Michael’s head. That was just the way it was between them. Always had been.

Michael’s eyes stung. He tried to breathe and almost choked on a sob. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I–” 

“Shh, Mikey.” Brian brushed a tear away from Michael’s cheek and folded him up in his arms, pressed his lips to his forehead. “It’s okay. I know.” 

Michael clutched desperately at the front of Brian’s shirt. If he just held on tight enough maybe he could keep him from disappearing. He pulled Brian in and kissed him hard. Brian opened his mouth and kissed back. They kissed all the time but not always like this. This was one of those deep, soul-crushing kisses that Brian seemed to dole out on special occasions. 

A whimper sounded from the back of Michael’s throat at the velvet sweep of Brian’s tongue against his own. Michael didn’t have any defenses when Brian kissed him like this. He couldn’t control his body’s reaction to Brian pressing so close to him, the way he moved his mouth. He broke away with a gasp. He didn’t want to pull away from Brian but needed to put a few inches of space between their hips. 

Brian’s soft chuckle and the twinkle in his eyes told Michael that it was too late. Michael tried to press down any embarrassment; his raging hormones weren’t important right now. He took a breath. “We just have to get through senior year. Then you’ll be able to go to any college you want, anywhere you want. You have all those scholarships already. Just…stay here. Ma won’t mind.” 

Brian snorted. “That’s all Deb needs: another mouth to feed.” He shook his head. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Michael’s. “Don’t worry, Mikey. I’ll figure it out. You’re right: It’s just one more year. I can handle it.” 

They stood there for a moment, breathing each other in. “At least stay here tonight,” Michael whispered. He felt Brian’s nod. 

“Yeah.” 

Michael took his hand and tugged him towards the bed. He knelt at Brian’s feet, undoing his laces and slipping his sneakers off. Brian popped open the fly of his jeans, and Michael helped him take those off as well. Brian lifted his arms, and Michael smiled as he slid the shirt up over Brian’s head, tossed it on the floor. The smile fell when Michael noticed the ugly purple mark on Brian’s side. His hand hovered over the bruise, close enough to feel the heat of Brian’s skin but not touching. “Does it hurt?” Brian shrugged, sniffing, eyes averted. Michael swallowed hard, not wanting to start blubbering again. “Lie down.” He gently pressed Brian’s shoulder down until he sat on the bed, then stretched out, rolling on his side with his back to Michael. 

Michael climbed in behind him. He kissed the back of Brian’s shoulder, carefully curling his arm around Brian’s waist as he fit his body perfectly against Brian’s. He closed his eyes and saw the wounds marring Brian’s beauty, the pain in his eyes. His gut twisted at the idea of Brian having to be in the same room with that asshole who had the nerve to call himself a father ever again. 

“Brian,” he whispered. “If you decide you can’t stay.” He winced, not able to keep his voice from cracking. “I mean, if you really need to go, I understand. I’ll miss you, but I’ll understand.”

“Shut the fuck up, Michael.” Brian clutched Michael’s hand and pulled it up to press against his chest. Michael read between the lines and understood what he was really saying–he was fluent in Brian Kinney after all: I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. 

Michael hiccupped a sob, rubbing his face into the pillow under Brian’s head. “Sorry.” 

Brian sighed, body shifting over to face Michael. He reached up to again wipe the tears from Michael’s cheek, seemingly oblivious to the ones leaking from his own eyes. “Christ, you’re pathetic,” he murmured, smiling softly: I love you, Mikey.

Michael let out a wet chuckle. “Yeah, I know.” I love you too. Always have, always will.

[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]

This fic is a must read for any britin fan it made me laugh, the humour is incredible. Made me cry it's so well written and the characterisation in my opinion is spot on. I could hear the dialogue in their voices and having it from the pov of each character was inspired. What a talented bunch of writers there's been in this fandom across the years 💛

If anyone wants to read it link is here titled - If you needed me

Ty to @winderlylandchime for putting it on their rec list where I found it!

[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????.........

[spacerockwriting]

Galladrabbles: Do You wanna Dance?

Thank you @rayrayor and @galladrabbles for this prompt! It was so fun and beachy and just happy vibes! So good! Also, because @thepupperino has been watching queer as folk for the first time, I this line from the show popped into my head!

Do You Wanna Dance?

Ian glances across the park at the raven haired boy. He’s got a board in one hand, and is talking to a group of friends. His brothers are surrounding him as well, and he’s letting out a bit of a laugh, pushing the long fringe off his face. As his brothers hand him a smoke from their pocket, he lets out another laugh, then coughs, eyes catching the red head across the park.

The music is starting to blast louder, as Mickey goes over to Ian, warm smile on his face.

“Hey Lover,” he greets. “You wanna dance with me?”

[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.

[wellcomeoneileen]

Hey, I read your fic Growing Pains and it’s so good and I just hhhh thanks for writing it. They’re so beautifully captured. And I really do love when Brian can be vulnerable, if only in short bursts, and you wrote that in a way I haven’t seen many other do. You’re a wonderful writer and while I lack the ability to picture things in my head (aphantasia sucks), I could feel your writing in my bones.

Oh my gosh??? This is so kind!! Wow, thanks so much!! That’s an incredible compliment, i told my mother, lol! Thank you for reading and for being so sweet!

I’m really glad you liked it, and yes, I think S5 Brian went off the deep end bc he wanted to be what Justin wanted but didn’t have the toolkit to communicate that to Justin, nor to discern the overall situation, and I FEEL like at the end of the show he’s like “okay i swung too far one way and then swung too far another way but damn it im accepting I want Justin til i dieeeee so I guess I fucking figure out how to do this” sooo him giving the explicit communication Justin so frequently requests can be in character sometimes i thiiiiiiiink. I think several emotional obstacles have been resolved at the end of the series for Brian’s ability to grow, so post-show it’s “””””just””””” unlearning 35 years of behavior lmao and when he buckles down he could be capable of going 😐😐 I’m experiencing a feeling 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

AH THANK YOU!!!!!!!!

[winderlylandchime]

May I ask what are your favorite Britin fics? 🥺

Hello dear sweet anon!

I am always happy to share my QAF/Britin fic recs. I keep a collection going of my bookmarks at AO3 and try to keep them pretty well tagged. You can find that here but I’ll pull out a few that I find particularly enjoyable:

Pulse Point - a complete AU with trauma surgeon!Brian and EMT!Justin. By Xie

Unfold Me - a S5 canon divergent fic which honestly solves a lot of my issues with S5. By mornmeril

Monogamy - another S5 canon divergent fic which takes an entirely different approach and is full of the feels. By frayach

The Love Song of Brian A. Kinney - a post canon classic, one shot. By ipoiledi.

Counting Dollars - a gapfiller for between S3 and S4, one shot. Also by ipoiledi.

Catalepsis - lovely S3 canon divergent fic, lots of delicious hurt/comfort. By @lostcol

Forward - post canon one shot focusing on Brian. By @kinnenvy

Glowing Rooms - canon divergent at 122 - Brian moves to NYC and doesn’t go to prom, Justin is bashed anyway. One shot. Amazing. By ohmyjetsabel

Only Time - post canon series, honestly could be S6, absolutely brilliant. Also by Xie

Homecoming - honestly, you cannot go wrong with this writer but her main series (The One Where Justin Loses His Hearing) can be intimidating. These are two parts of that series that can be read as a standalone fic (two chapters). By LaVieEnRose

If you want some fantastic PWP, I highly recommend devil_on_your_shoulder27384

Also all of ivysunna’s fics are incredible but I love their canon fics such as we’d still worship this love (S2, canon compliant, outsider POV which is always fun for Britin) and their newest the heat of your electric touch (S4/cancer arc gapfiller, canon compliant).

Wait - set during S3, Justin has an HIV scare (open ending). By @thissugarcane

Also, if you are new to fic in QAF, I would be absolutely remiss if I didn’t direct you toward Myrna’s four part fic that is canon divergent after the end of S2 and is delicious hurt/comfort and alternating POV. It is partway down this archive page. Look for If You Needed Me (If You Needed Me / I Would Come to You / I’d Swim the Seas / For To Ease Your Pain). I encourage you to save it as PDFs because it is hard to track down.

Overall, I tend to bookmark fics where the premise is interesting (bonus points for hurt/comfort), the characters and their growth are central, and the characters must be in character (any changes to their character must be explained by growth or AU circumstances but honestly I love these characters and I want to read about them), and the writing is good. I don’t enjoy fics that are anti-character. I know those are popular in this fandom and I’m not going to yuck anyone’s yum, but I generally find every character on this show has something redeeming about them and they are all flawed. It’s far more interesting to me to explore that rather than have an outright villain. More than any other fandom, I tend to enjoy canon-based fics rather than complete AUs (I say as I’m partway through writing a complete AU).

Happy reading! If you read anything that you enjoy, come back and let me know your thoughts (from this list or anything else).

[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)

[madsworld15]

New Fic Alert! right by my side (Brian/Justin)

This fic is in answer to the prompt: hug (Prompt #14) [9/21 for me personally].

I wanted to do a fun little 5+1 for this particular prompt response. It ended up being a 6k+ fic...oops. I typically don't dedicate my fics to anyone, but I truly believe that @winderlylandchime will greatly enjoy this one (plus, my last post was a few lines from this.)

5 Times Brian Surprised Justin with a Hug +1 Time Justin Surprised Brian

1.

Justin sat solemnly as Principal Perkins stared at him sternly from across the desk. The young man knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation after he’d been sent to the office for flipping off his teacher. Any other time, Justin and the principal would be having a conversation about his grades and high honors. How much his character exemplified the morals and traditions of St. James Academy.

Now, the principal was angry enough to spit fire. He was ranting about how Justin’s behavior was completely out of character. Justin rolled his eyes at that. Of course, it was out of character. Justin was tired of keeping quiet and just taking whatever bullshit got thrown at him. He was now old enough to know who he was supposed to be and what he believed in. None of which aligned with St. James’ homophobic policies.

“Mr. Taylor, it pains me to do this, but there must be consequences for your actions. If you’d shown even some ounce of remorse, I’d be willing to look the other way.”

Justin grits his teeth and balled his hands into fists. 

“What about what was said to me? Why isn’t Chris Hobbs sitting here, too?” Justin barely controlled his anger.

“Mr. Hobbs was not reported as saying anything out of turn.” Principal Perkins replied, rubbing his temple in frustration.

“Only because the teacher refused to acknowledge he said anything or harassed me,” Justin grumbled, slumping down in his chair.

“Regardless, I will have to suspend you for a week.” Perkins leaned back in his seat. 

Justin tried to object, but Perkins raised his hand to stop him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor. My hands are tied.”

Justin stood up and angrily grabbed his school blazer off the back of his chair before flipping up his middle fingers at Principal Perkins as well. “And fuck you.”

He made his exit before Principal Perkins could add more days to his suspension. He was so angry his chest heaved with every breath he took. He knew he should go straight home to Debbie’s, but he found his feet directing him toward Brian’s office instead. The older man had never invited him here, but Justin knew where he worked because Brian had never kept it a secret.

Justin arrived at Brian’s office a half hour later. His anger hadn’t gone away, but now he was also upset. Justin’s eyes stung with tears he refused to let fall. Upon reaching the front desk, Justin realized Brian could easily refuse him. So, Justin gave his sunniest smile and put on the charm.

“I’m here to see Brian Kinney,” Justin informed the bored-looking young woman behind the desk.

“Do you have an appointment?” She looked up and almost laughed, “Not likely. Look, kid, this is a place of business. Run on home.”

Justin squared his shoulders, gave her a stern look, and repeated, “I’m here to see Brian Kinney.” 

With a roll of her eyes, the young woman picked up the phone receiver and dialed a few numbers.

“Hey, Cynthia. I have a teen boy here. He says he needs to see Brian Kinney.” She looked at Justin smugly while she listened to whatever Cynthia said in response.

Her smirk dropped as time passed, “Excuse me, what is your name?”

“Justin Taylor,” Justin responded with a fake smile.

A few moments later, the woman hung up the phone and rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Take the elevator to the left and up to the second floor. Mr. Kinney’s office is to the right of the elevators. You will check in with Cynthia, his assistant.”

Justin smiled and nodded at everything relayed to him. He then rushed off to find the elevator.

Once he was where the receptionist had directed him, Justin stood before a blonde woman with a stern face but mischievous eyes. She gave Justin the once-over and smirked.

“Oh, Brian has some real explaining to do about you.” She looked him up and down once more, her smile holding back a laugh.

“Mr. Kinney,” she said as she opened the door. Justin could hear Brian grumbling from beyond it and tell the woman not to call him that.

Cynthia's only response was, “You have a visitor.” Turning back to Justin, she told him, “Go on in.”

“I swear to god, Cyn, if it’s my mother, I will murder you when you least expect it.” Brian hollered out just as Justin came through the door and finally set eyes on the older man’s office.

“Not your mom.” Justin’s voice squeaked. He was grateful to see Brian, but now his nerves were back, and he was certain the older man would immediately dismiss him.

“Justin?” Brian choked out, the younger blond was shocked to learn Brian actually remembered his name.

“Surprise?” Justin bit his lip and shuffled his feet. Now that he was here, he wanted Brian to make all his hurt feelings better, but he also realized he’d made a mistake thinking the man would.

“What are you doing here?” Brian narrowed his eyes and gave Justin a calculated once-over. “What happened?”

Justin brought his gaze up to meet Brian’s, and what he found there surprised him enough that he let his walls down. Brian’s face, which was normally stony and stand-offish whenever they were interacting outside of sex, was soft and concerned.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Brian asked when Justin didn’t respond right away.

“I got kicked out.” Justin squeaked out before he felt the telltale sting of tears at the back of his eyes once more. He sniffed, “Bullshit rules about using foul language toward a teacher.”

Brian stood up and walked around his desk, leaning against the front of it. He addressed Justin, “What happened?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory or cruel. It was soft and gentle. It reminded Justin of the way Brian talked to him that first night they ever had sex. It was that alone that brought Justin’s tears leaking down his face. 

“Another student was harassing me and another student. I told him off for being homophobic, but the teacher only punished me. So, as I left the room, I told him, ‘the queer is leaving. The queer says fuck you.’ Then I turned and flipped him off. It earned me a one-way ticket to a week-long suspension.” Justin wiped away the tear tracks on his cheeks, trying to hide that he had even cried.

Brian didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then, without warning, he pushed off his desk and stepped into Justin’s personal bubble. Before Justin knew what was happening, Brian wrapped his arms around Justin and held him close. 

“You stood up for yourself. You should be proud.” Brian muttered against Justin’s temple, placed a kiss there, and then moved away.

Justin watched as Brian went back around his desk and sat down. He turned back to his computer as if Justin wasn’t actually there. Justin stood rooted to the spot. He still had more he wanted to get off his chest so he did.

“It’s just fucking bullshit. Chris Hobbs can harass me every day, and no one bats an eye, but I speak out and tell him to shut up, and I get punished. I’m just so tired of that school’s homophobic policies.”

“Yeah, well, soon you’ll graduate, and you won’t have to think about them anymore,” Brian replied without even looking at Justin. 

Feeling as though he’d been dismissed, Justin started back toward Brian’s office door. 

“If you don’t mind sticking around I can drive you to Debbie’s around 5,” Brian stated. This time, his eyes found Justin’s and stared him down.

The teen didn’t respond; instead, he went to Brian’s couch and plopped down. A smile played across his lips as he pulled out a book to read.

2.

Brian had said he’d only be gone for a couple of hours. Justin trusted him, but it was inching toward the end of the second hour. His skin started to crawl, and his chest tightened as he thought about all the possible reasons Brian could have for not being back yet.

The worst of which was that he was organizing a way to kick Justin out. After all, Brian didn’t want him here. He just took Justin in because he’d been injured, and Justin’s mom had asked the brunet to take him. Justin knew deep down that Brian wouldn’t have agreed to Justin moving in if he didn’t want it to happen. However, Justin’s brain was in fight or flight mode. He wasn’t thinking things through logically.

Justin looked around at the loft Brian had catered to fit his every whim. There wasn’t much furniture because the whole aesthetic was minimalist and modern. Brian loved having an artsy living space, though anytime Justin tried to tell him it was cold and pretentious, Brian simply waved him off as being uncultured. Right now, Justin wanted nothing more than to curl up on a comfy couch with a big fluffy blanket to block out the world and his intrusive thoughts. 

However, Brian’s loft had neither of those things. The closest Justin could find was Brian’s blanket on his bed, but even that was thin and fashionable. There was nothing about Brian’s setup that immediately cried comfort. As Justin struggled to breathe, he grasped for anything that would tell him he belonged there, that Brian wanted him to be there as much as Justin loved being there.

He stumbled into the bathroom in the hopes that a hot shower might ease the tension in his body, but his vision started to go out just as he reached the tiled floor. Justin grabbed for the towel that was “his” as his vision started to go black. At least this was something that was decidedly his in this space filled with Brian. Sure, it belonged to Brian, but this was Justin’s assigned towel.

Justin buried his face in the towel and tried to control his breathing. His vision was still dark and swimmy, but closing his eyes helped with that. He breathed in the mixed scent of his own shampoo and Brian’s natural scent that clung to everything in the loft. Having their scents mingled together on his towel helped ease Justin’s mind just a little.

A few minutes later, or maybe it was an hour, Justin couldn’t be sure; he felt the touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder. Justin pulled his head out of the towel and opened his eyes. After they adjusted to the brightness, Justin saw Brian’s concerned face swimming above him. A few blinks later, Brian’s whole body came into focus. The older man was looking Justin up and down with more concern on his face than Justin had ever seen before. 

All of Brian’s usual walls were gone, and in its place was probably the closest anyone had ever gotten to seeing the real Brian Kinney. Here was this man who acted aloof about Justin 9 times out of 10, only now he was so concerned he looked close to tears.

“Justin?” Brian’s voice came out unsteady and cracked.

“I’m fine.” Justin quickly reassured the older man. Seeing this vulnerability in him was unnerving, and Justin needed it to go away.

“You’re on the bathroom floor hugging a towel,” Brian observed, allowing his hand to move from Justin’s shoulder to cup his cheek instead.

“Just had a minor panic attack. I’m fine now.” Justin reassured Brian once more. This time he stood up to further prove how fine he was.

Brian scrambled to his full height and, without a word, pulled Justin against his chest. The older man wrapped his arms around the teen and positioned his head so that it leaned on Justin’s, providing comfort. Justin squeaked due to the unexpected contact but quickly wrapped his own arms around Brian’s back in return.

After a few moments, Brian broke their contact and steeled his features. Just as quickly as his walls had fallen, they were back. Justin didn’t dare ask the man about the meaning of the intimate gesture, but he did smile to himself once Brian turned and walked toward the bedroom.

3.

Justin had thought seeing Chris Hobbs would be the worst thing he’d ever have to endure now that he survived the bashing. Then, he had dinner with his father in the hopes that he could change his mind about paying for college. The meeting with his mom two days prior had been a wake-up call, but so had his later discussion with Brian. Justin was 18 now, and he needed to prove to the world that he could handle everything on his own. That he didn’t need adults to save him every time he turned around, especially not his boyfriend.

Boyfriend, god, if Brian heard him say that, he’d kick Justin to the curb faster than he’d have time to say anything. Justin shook himself as he looked left and right. He was standing just outside his father’s apartment, having left the disastrous dinner early, and now needed a ride back to Brian’s. It was a calm, warm evening, so if he walked to Brian’s, it wouldn’t be so terrible.

Taking a deep breath, Justin took off down the street, his mind focused on the dinner he’d just participated in. He could still remember a time when he would defend his father to anyone who would listen. Despite being against Justin’s sexuality, he never thought his father actually hated him specifically. It’s why Justin had insisted his new queer family understand his father meant well, if not a bit misguided. He’d kept insisting that Craig Taylor just needed some time with it, like his mom, and then he’d come around.

After tonight, Justin knew that was never going to happen. His father had all but spit on him and his disgusting lifestyle. All the while, he was shacking up and getting particularly cozy with the receptionist for his store. According to her, they’d been together a year. So, before Justin had come out and before the divorce. Fantastic.

“You want to judge my life choices, Dad? Why not look in a mirror?” Justin had practically screamed, realizing in that moment Brian had been right all along. He’d always be hurt by the man who called himself his dad.

“Don’t you dare compare our relationship to the devil worship that you get up to. At least I’m not some pervert.” His father had screamed at him, his eyes blazing and his cheeks red from anger.

“I came here tonight to see if you would be willing to reconsider my college tuition. But I can see that’s a mistake. You don’t care whether or not I go to college. Hell, you don’t even love me.”

Justin had left right after that in the vain hope that he could stop himself from getting upset. As Justin walked toward Liberty Avenue, he kept his eyes trained on his surroundings. He wanted to find a cab, knowing Brian’s loft was still a few miles away, but he also knew he needed to be aware of potential threats to his well-being. Before his bashing, he’d never thought twice about the people around him. Justin trusted that he fit in well enough to pass, but now, everything and everyone was a threat if he didn’t know or recognize them.

Twenty minutes later, Justin was begrudgingly sliding open the door to Brian’s loft. The lights were off except for the one over Brian’s bed, so Justin assumed the man was out for the night. After a quick glance around the space, Justin was able to determine his assumption was probably correct. His chest was tight, and his heart felt heavy. So, instead of cleaning up and texting Brian to find out where he was, Justin stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up over his head and blocked out the world.

Not ten minutes later, Brian’s door slid open once more, signaling the older man’s return. He didn’t say anything as he walked in, and Justin remained under the blanket completely. His heart was still hurting over his father’s words, and he knew he had tears running down his face. He didn’t need to hear Brian tell him, once again, that he’d been foolish to see the good in his father. Justin was lying in a ball, which he tightened at the knowledge that Brian was now home.

After some time, Brian’s footsteps could be heard ascending the couple of steps to his bedroom area. Justin squeezed his eyes shut, thinking Brian wouldn’t bother him if he thought the blond was sleeping. Unfortunately, he forgot that Brian has this innate sense when something is wrong with Justin. Before he has time to even out his breathing, Justin’s cocoon of blankets is ripped off of him, exposing him to the world beyond his bubble.

A gentle touch forces Justin to roll over and look at Brian. He doesn’t want to, but he knows that Brian’s gentle touch will only turn into more touches until Justin gives him the attention he craves. So, Justin looked toward Brian, trying his best to hide the hurt that currently overwhelms him.

Brian’s lighthearted facial expression, clearly on the verge of teasing Justin about being in bed already, turns to mild concern the minute they make eye contact with each other. His hand moves from Justin’s arm to caress his cheek. Justin pushes away from the touch. He doesn’t need Brian’s pity or his concern. The older man had warned him for almost two years now that Craig Taylor would always disappoint him. He didn’t need Brian to remind him of that.

But, instead of the expected scoff or pity, Brian does something else entirely. Something he’s only been known to do on two other occasions. He pulled on Justin’s arm until the younger man was sitting up more. Then, he wrapped his arms around the blond and held him tightly to his chest. Brian’s hand goes up to cradle the back of Justin’s head, and he squeezes his arm to push Justin as close to his chest as humanly possible. 

Brian doesn’t usually do hugs, but Justin has found that when he is at his most vulnerable and hurt, Brian willingly drops his defenses and gives Justin what he needs, whether he’s willing to ask for it or not. Brian isn’t a hugger, but he will hug Justin if it means the younger man will feel more himself again.

“You were right. My dad’s an asshole.” Justin finally mutters, his face buried in Brian’s chest, the tears causing wet patches to appear on the fabric.

Brian doesn’t respond at first, instead, he tightens his grip and rubs his thumb against the back of Justin’s head. Then, he breathes and says, “I wish I wasn’t.”

4.

Justin ran all the way home. He couldn’t believe he’d actually let Cody convince him going after Chris Hobbs was a good idea. It was one thing to scare the guy, another entirely to actually attempt to kill him. Justin wished many times over the last few years that Chris Hobbs would just die, but he never wanted to be the person to make it happen.

He managed to make it to Brian’s loft and slammed the door open as his vision started to blur. At first, he thought it might be because of tears, but then soon realized it was the start of having another panic attack. He hadn’t had one this bad in ages. In fact, the last time Justin had well and truly freaked out like this had been in the months after his release from the hospital.

As he stood by the door and attempted to catch his breath and stop the panic attack from manifesting completely, he failed to see Brian sitting at the counter observing him. Justin leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees, and squeezed his eyes shut. Brian had warned him that spending time with Cody would lead him to trouble. Justin hated when Brian was right about anything, let alone decisions Justin would come to regret.

“Sunshine?” Brian’s voice floated to the surface, and Justin found himself able to look up.

He didn’t take his elbows off his knees or even attempt to straighten up. He just let his blue eyes make contact with Brian’s brown ones and hoped that the older man wouldn’t chide him for whatever he thought Justin had been up to. He tried again to take a deep breath, but the tightness in his chest persisted, and refused to allow anything more than a small gasp. Justin found himself crumpling to the floor and wrapping his body up into a ball. Only then did he let the tears flow.

Brian jumped from his chair and immediately crouched on the floor to get as close to Justin as he could. Justin closed his eyes and tucked his chin against his chest as the blackness came and took over his every thought. The panic had settled in, and there was nothing more he could do than wait it out. To make matters even worse, Justin’s right hand started to spasm and curl on itself. His neurologist had recently told him that undue stress could trigger an episode, and he was right.

Despite the blackness of his panic and the dullness of his senses, Justin could feel Brian’s hand reach out and grab Justin’s spasming hand. The man’s gentle touches not only soothed the tight tendons but somehow seeped into Justin’s brain as well. The tightness in his chest started to subside, and Justin could feel his senses coming back online.

Taking his first deep breath since before he’d run to Brian’s, Justin was able to open his eyes – still wet with tears – and look up at Brian. The brunet’s face was crumpled with concern and heartbreak at the sight of Justin. Justin wanted to reach out and smooth out Brian’s worry lines, but his body was still heavy, and he couldn’t find it in him to move. 

Instead, Brian moved his body for him. The older man wrapped his arm around Justin’s back and pulled him up into a sitting position while leaning on Brian for strength. They didn’t say anything to each other. Justin was afraid to utter what he’d done out loud, and Brian was respectful enough not to ask.

Soon enough, Justin could feel all his muscles loosening up and so he started to move to get up off the floor. He wiped away the tear tracks from his cheeks and refused to make eye contact with Brian. As he stood up, Brian was right there at his elbow, a gentle hand there to provide support should Justin need it. He didn’t, and feeling embarrassed by his reaction, Justin put as much space between himself and his partner as he could.

“Once again, you were right.” Justin finally muttered, still not looking at Brian. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt or sympathy the man’s face probably still contained.

“Am I supposed to know what you are referring to?” Brian’s voice came out quiet. Justin quickly glanced at him to see he was biting his bottom lip and looking toward Justin, deeply concerned.

“Cody. He was nothing but trouble.” Justin shrugged, staring at his feet. 

Before he knew it, Brian had enveloped Justin in the biggest, tightest hug to date. Brian would never admit it out loud, but Justin knew the man had been worried about him the last few weeks. Justin’s anger about his bashing had been all-consuming and hadn’t allowed him to listen when Brian told him there were more productive ways to put the incident behind him. Justin grabbed at Brian’s back, holding on for dear life. He hadn’t expected his partner to hug him, but he wasn’t upset that it was happening.

Then, Brian surprised Justin even further by opening his mouth and letting out a deep sigh, “I was so fucking worried about you.”

Justin didn’t need to say the “I know” out loud. Instead, he leaned even further into the hug and let Brian hold onto him as long as the man needed to feel regulated again. Justin needed the hug desperately, but he knew that secretly, Brian needed it too.

5.

Justin had been living in New York City for almost a year now. He loved it here. Brooklyn was the perfect mix of artist communities and young people to keep him inspired and alive. When he had first moved, he’d been worried that he’d never feel at home in a city its size. However, the universe quickly showed him that his talents were worth something and that he could make a nice little life for himself here.

Brian came to visit Justin about once a month and they talked on the phone at least once a week otherwise. Sometimes, Brian even emailed him inappropriate pictures to convince Justin it was time they did a video call together. The older man had recently started talking about expanding Kinnetik to New York City, but no concrete plans had been made. So, Justin was convinced it wasn’t going to happen.

After all, in the almost 6 years he had known Brian, the man had talked about New York on numerous occasions but never followed through on actually moving there. Justin wasn’t naive enough to believe that he’d be a big enough reason to get Brian to move to the city that never sleeps. Sure, they’d been together off and on for many years, but that didn’t mean Brian was going to uproot his life for the blond.

Then, Justin was walking home from his job at a 5-star restaurant one night, and everything changed. He hated the job, but it helped him pay his bills and allowed him to paint and draw at his own pace, not the fast pace of the art world. He was walking along his block, having gotten off the subway two blocks down from his apartment, when out of nowhere, a person grabbed him. Justin panicked, and his brain locked up. He couldn’t move or even fight back. 

As the person punched him in the stomach and made a grab for his jacket pocket, where he held his wallet, Justin’s cell phone rang. He scrambled to grab it and answer it, but his assailant knocked it from his hand before Justin could actually say anything to whoever was on the other line. Justin’s attacker gave him a swift kick to the knees and finally managed to grab Justin’s wallet. They opened it and took out Justin’s tips from the night and his credit card before throwing the wallet down and running away. Justin groaned from his spot on the pavement. 

His head was throbbing from where the attacker had given him another kick to the head before leaving him. Justin could hear Brian’s panicked voice on the other end of the phone calling out his name. Just before he blacked out, Justin mumbled, “Help me.”

Justin woke up to bright lights that hurt his retinas. He groaned and felt a pull on one of his arms and a heavy weight on the other. Looking down, he was able to see that there was an IV attached to his left arm, and a person was lying on his other arm, grasping his hand. His head was throbbing incessantly to the point that he felt nauseous. In fact, his mouth suddenly started salivating, and his gut started to roll. Shit, he was going to vomit. 

Justin leaned over the far side of the bed and vomited. After his stomach stopped lurching, he was able to lean back on his pillows once more. Justin knew he was in the hospital and that his head hurt. He just wasn’t exactly sure why. He looked around the room for some help with the vomit that now lay puddled on the floor next to his bed. The movement jostled the person lying on his other arm, and Justin came face to face with Brian.

The man was still sleep-fogged, but his eyes were sad and distraught. Justin tried to sit up more, but the pounding in his head got worse, and the nausea returned, so he laid back down. He took deep breaths through his nose with his eyes closed in order to prevent himself from vomiting again.

“Where’s the nurse?” Justin finally croaked, allowing his eyes to open again slowly.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Brian started to physically check him over for any problems. 

Justin sighed, “Bri, I’m fine. I just vomited over the side of the bed because of my head.”

Brian stopped moving and looked Justin in the eyes. His hand landed on Justin’s cheek, and he caressed it softly with his thumb.

“I can page someone,” Brian whispered, using his other hand to press the button. “When you didn’t respond over the phone, I freaked out.”

“Clearly. You’re here.” Justin chuckled, then groaned when the action made his abdomen and chest hurt. “Jesus, what the fuck happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Brian looked extremely concerned again. “Fuck.”

“No, did I fall and hit my head? Is that why I’m here?” Justin wracked his brain, trying to find even the faintest of memories about what happened.

“You were walking home when someone attacked you. Luckily, not long after you passed out, someone from your building happened by and called 9-1-1. I was on the phone with you when it happened, so I just hopped on the first plane I could.” Brian’s tone was kind, gentle, and filled with worry.

“How long was I out?” Justin was trying to make sense of everything. Tonight wasn’t Brian’s typical night to call. He knew Justin’s work schedule and never called him on nights he worked.

“You’ve been unconscious for about 4 hours,” Brian responded. He rubbed his hand across his mouth, pulling his contact with Justin. “Doctors said that we wouldn’t know if the injury to your head would have damaging effects until you woke up.”

Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to sit up once more. This time, his head didn’t pound, his vision didn’t swim, and his stomach stayed calm. He took that as a win and smiled over at Brian. 

“I’m sorry to worry you.” 

Brian licked his lips and grabbed Justin’s hand, “Sorry is bullshit.”

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a nurse. She smiled at Justin and moved to look over his vitals on the monitor. As she approached the far side of his bed to check the IV medication, she found the puddle of vomit.

“I see you made a mess of things. Not to worry. You’ve had a concussion. Vomiting is normal.”

Justin squeezed Brian’s hand, which was still in his. Brian took the opportunity to ask a couple of questions. 

“Since he’s awake, does that mean everything is fine?” Based on how he phrased things, Justin could assume Brian had asked about his brain health multiple times over the past few hours.

“I’ll let the doctor come in and answer that question. But, based on your vitals, Mr. Taylor, I would say you are one lucky young man.” She gave him a smile and then leaned over to wipe up the mess on the floor.

Justin turned his focus to Brian. He hadn’t seen the man in person for almost three weeks, and in that time, he’d somehow become more haggard-looking and tired. Or maybe that was all a result of the last few hours. Justin was sure his being unconscious in the hospital with a head injury wasn’t a road Brian had wished to revisit. 

“I’m fine. Brian, I promise. I’m okay.” Justin muttered as the room became just the two of them again.

“You could’ve died. The whole flight, I could hardly breathe, not knowing what I was going to arrive to.” Brian’s breath came out choppy and short. He was close to hyperventilating. “Then getting here and finding out your attacker kicked you in the head?”

Justin reached across himself and placed his other hand on top of their joined ones. Brian sniffed and then looked at Justin, tears in his eyes. “Justin, I couldn’t bear the thought…”

He stopped, and instead of trying to finish his thought, Brian leaned forward and wrapped Justin up in his arms. He kissed the side of Justin’s neck and let a few tears settle on Justin’s shoulder. Justin couldn’t fully wrap his left arm around Brian due to the IV, but he took his right one and made sure the man knew he was there and he was okay.

“Brian,” Justin whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Justin. I need you to be safe.”

Brian’s final words rocked Justin to his core. Sure, he’d known that Brian loved him and had done so for years, but the man had never vulnerably stated how much he needed Justin. This was new.

+1

Brian hated hospitals, with a passion of a thousand burning suns. Nothing good ever came out of a hospital. That’s not true. There was one instance in his life when he went to the hospital, and something good happened. The day Gus was born.

Otherwise, Brian hated hospitals. He’d spent quite some time at Alleghany General when Justin was bashed, then again when Michael was injured in the Babylon bombing. Then there was the whole cancer journey where he spent most of 3 months visiting the hospital just so the doctors could fry his balls. Not to mention the situation with Justin two years ago when he got mugged and almost died.

Now, Brian was pacing the hallway of the hospital in Toronto, waiting for any news on Gus and Lindsay’s condition. They had been driving home from Gus’ hockey tournament when they were hit by a drunk driver. Melanie had called Brian, crying hysterically, and he had gotten on the first flight he could. It had been a few hours now, and there still wasn’t any news. 

Justin approached him and handed him a cup filled with crappy machine-dispensed coffee. Brian gave him a forced smile and resumed his pacing. Justin stood to the side and watched Brian move. The older man knew the blond wanted to do something more to help Brian, but they both knew that nothing could speed up their waiting.

Another hour passed without any news when suddenly a doctor appeared. She looked exhausted but hopeful. Brian stopped his pacing, and Justin came to stand next to him. The doctor asked which of them was Lindsay Peterson’s next of kin. Melanie raised her hand and stepped forward, stating she was Lindsay’s wife. She glanced toward Brian and subtly motioned that he could stand with her.

Brian and Justin held hands as they approached the doctor to hear the update. She started off only talking about Lindsay.

“Ma’am, your wife sustained crush injuries due to being squished up against the dashboard in the accident. Her legs were crushed, which is why we had to go in surgically. Lindsay made it through surgery just fine, but we won’t know how much her mobility will be affected until she wakes up.” The doctor concluded with a tight smile. “We are cautiously optimistic about her prognosis.”

“What about her son, Gus?” Brian cut in, his fingers squeezing Justin’s that much harder. The doctor had no way of knowing, and Melanie probably didn’t notice, but Justin knew that Brian was barely holding onto his sanity at this point.

“Gus’ injuries were a lot more catastrophic. Unfortunately, he was crushed similarly to Lindsay, but from the backseat. And since he is just a child, his bones broke more easily. There was much more internal damage. We went in and started to do some damage control, but with the amount of bleeding, we had to stop and give his body time to recover.” The doctor reached out and placed a comforting hand on both Melanie and Brian’s shoulders. “I wish the news was better for both of them.”

She turned around and started to walk away, but Brian called her back.

“Can I see him?” Brian’s voice was broken and pleading.

“He’s in the PICU. Visiting hours are from 9 am to 4 pm. You can see him in a few hours.” She looked apologetic, but Brian didn’t want to hear it.

“He’s barely 8 years old! I’m his father. You have to let me see him!” Brian took a step toward her menacingly.

Justin grabbed him and pulled him back. “Brian, relax. It’ll be 9 am in a few hours. Let the doctors do their job.”

Brian didn’t know how to respond. He was numb. Gus, his beautiful, energetic son, might die. How was that even fair? Brian was a dick to people most of his life, and yet he got to survive cancer. Now, Gus, who’d never harmed another person in his life and was the epitome of kindness, might die before he even got to experience life. Brian was angry. 

He pulled away from Justin completely and walked toward the closest exit. He needed to take a step outside and get some fresh air. It didn’t matter to him that it was the middle of November and freezing. He needed the sharp, cold air because he deserved to be in pain, not Gus. Brian felt his breath catch in his chest, and his lungs started to feel like they were filled with water. His vision started to narrow. He couldn’t stop whatever this was, and it freaked him out even more. 

Brian lashed out, screaming and kicking the ground. He was 37 years old and wanted nothing more than to be in the hospital instead of Gus. Just as his chest tightened to the point he could hardly pull any air in, warm arms wrapped themselves around him. All of a sudden, his face was met with a plump polyester jacket that was cold at first but soon warmed up thanks to Brian’s own body heat. His eyes closed, and he let out the first sob.

“Shh. Brian, it’s okay.” Justin’s voice whispered in his ear as his hand cradled the back of Brian’s head and rubbed comforting circles to the back of it.

Brian continued to sob; he’d never allowed himself to break down this much before. Even when Justin had been in the hospital on the edge of dying. Back then, Brian hid behind extremely thick walls and never dared to do more than let a few tears stream quietly down his face. He’d been just as devastated back then as he was now. The only difference was years of Justin’s love and steadfast loyalty showing him he had room to be vulnerable without being judged. 

A few moments later, Brian was able to compose himself and pulled back from Justin a bit, “What was that for?”

Justin shrugged and smiled, “I figured you could use a hug. You aren’t alone, Brian. And Gus is going to pull through. I just know it.”

“You can’t know that,” Brian admitted, searching Justin’s face for some kind of validation of his claim.

“Sure I can. I did.” Justin gave Brian one of his dazzling smiles and then leaned over to give the man a kiss on his lips. “Gus is resilient because he has three of the strongest people I know as his parents.”

“Four.” Brian corrected him. “You’re pretty strong yourself.”

[kinnenvy]

qaf drabble #1

early season 3 break up small little drabble that i need out of my drafts :) , brian centric

Brian is on his third cigarette and his second beer. It’s Wednesday and Woody's tightly packed, but Brian's head is too all over the place to truly pay attention to the crowd around him. Not about its quantity nor its quality.

Unfortunately, despite his inability to acknowledge his surroundings, all the whispering happening around him easily reaches his ears. He can't escape the judgment being directed his way. Callous words about how tired, how haggard he looks, how dispirited and pale. How the god of Liberty avenue has stumbled and fallen to the depths of the worst kind of hell. Lonely and apathetic and too tired to hide himself behind his shell of glamour and charm.

He lights a fourth cigarette and instead of a third beer he gets himself a glass of whisky.

"Hey… Brian." Someone sitting on his left strikes a conversation, or at least tries to. Brian glances at him and hums. "Do you remember me? We… Met at Babylon last Sunday." 

Brian rarely remembers, but he looks back at him anyway. The mole on the skin beneath his eye vaguely reminds him of the backroom, of loud music filtering through the air and mingling with Justin's voice in Brian's ears.

He's the last guy they've had together and Brian is not sure whether he wants to fuck him or make sure to never see him again.

He doesn't try to do either, he just goes back to gazing into his drink and smoking his cigarette.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Ted and Emmett appear out of thin air and unknowingly save him from finally giving in and taking the guy home, just to hear his voice, look at his mole and pretend there's three of them in his bed.

"Yeah, it's pecs night at Babylon, what are you doing here?" Emmett sits beside him in a way that’s entirely too deliberate. He very openly reaches for Ted's hand, he glances at Brian in a way that he probably thinks must be subtle, and joins their fingers together, likely expecting Brian to point and sneer at them just to distract himself. Brian has to look away instead.

He picks at the damp label on one of his empty beer bottles, he stays there until it’s deep into the night and waits, he's not sure for what.

"This new account is bullshit." Brian groans in the agency corridors, Cynthia snickers and rolls her eyes as she walks next to him fidgeting with all the new documents they've acquired in the meeting.

"Why would they launch a new cassette player in 2003? And why do they expect them to sell?" She, as she often does, speaks out Brian's exact thoughts.

"I don't know and it's coming from one of our oldest accounts, so I can't even tell them to fuck off. They better pay me before they go bankrupt." He massages his temples and wipes off some of the tinted moisturizer he's started packing over his face. Wordlessly Cynthia helps him fix the patch of skin he's uncovered and Brian slams the door of his office harder than he should because of it.

Two days later a copy about nostalgia comes across his desk: You only know what you'll miss, once it's already gone. The accompanying images of Walkmans knockoffs and cassettes don't do much to divert his thoughts from blond hair and blue eyes.

When Brian comes home that afternoon he notices his wardrobe only has his clothes in it, he scans the loft and it takes him just a superficial glance to be able to tell that Justin sneaked in during his office hours and took away most of his things. His eyes linger on the computer and the graphics tablet he got him still sitting where he last left it. 

There's a feeling he'd rather not describe sinking to the pit of his stomach, it reaches so low inside him that Brian convinces himself his only choice is to bounce back and start looking up again.

He cleans up and for the first night since the Rage party, he wears his best fuck clothes and skips Woody's to get himself right to the backrooms.

The next logical step is to steal Michael away from his quiet evenings with Ben and let him distract him from the turmoil inside him. Allow his company to patch him up and hold him together, like he used to do when his dad got too drunk and Brian had to wear bruises for weeks, when his mom was too distracted by her own listlessness, to realize Brian needed her comfort.

"We can't stay too long, Ben has to wake up early tomorrow." Michael shouts in Brian's ear so he can hear him over the music and the yelling happening on the Babylon dancefloor. From this close he can see he still has a dark spot around his left eye from the blow he delivered to his face, without thinking Brian traces it with the tips of his fingers.

"What? The professor's working on a Saturday morning?" He asks, mostly just to fill the silence that can't be hidden by the loud bass beating and pulsating in the air around them.

"He's got a check up at the hospital." Michael says it like it's nothing special, but Brian has always been able to see right through him with ease. They dance a little closer after that, their hands gripping tightly each other's clothes.

"You better take him home then. It's already time for my scheduled backroom appearance anyway." Brian pushes him away only a handful of minutes later, Michael looks up at him and pats his shoulder.

"Listen, I know I behaved like an ass… But be careful, okay? Don't let this whole thing drag you down." Michael says, but can't look directly into his eyes anymore. Brian knows his outburst during Linds and Mel's party is still haunting him, even though letting his emotions get the best of him is Michael's specialty, just like hiding them is Brian's.

"What thing?" Brian furrows his eyebrows and shrugs, feigning ignorance, "I've never felt better."

"...Right." Michael releases a sigh between exasperated and amused, then kisses Brian's cheek and walks back to the bar where Ben, Emmett and Ted are deep into conversation.

Brian watches until all four of them decide to leave and start moving towards the wardrobe. Emmett looks back into the crowd one last time and raises a hand to wave at him, Brian raises his chin to acknowledge him, then he turns on his heels and lets himself be dragged away by the first man who hits on him.

Things slowly start to settle again. Brian stops paying short, blond twinks to wear baggy clothes and lay flat on his bed, while he rams them from behind. Hopefully soon he'll also stop seeing Justin in every trick he brings home.

For now he's cursed to see his face every time someone begs for his cock. Also whenever he steps into the diner.

Brian is starting to question the amount of money he's spending to put him through school, considering how he seems to be working every shift from Monday through Friday. He doesn't comment on it though, or on anything else, and he purposely gives his order to another server.

He's started going to tanning salons again, he's cut his hair and he is generally looking much better than he did weeks ago. Despite all of that, he keeps his sunglasses on, not wanting Justin's furtive glances to see anything he isn't supposed to. Also to shield himself from seeing how little his own ailments seem to be reflected in his inquisitive blue gaze.

[sophsun1]

Gale Harold & Randy Harrison – People & Entertainment Weekly Queer As Folk Reunion 2018

[xoxoemynn]

truly regarding that QAF post, I am still early on in my rewatch and I haven't done a proper rewatch in at least six years, but the way I can still hear it CRYSTAL clear in my head...

you FUCKED a MURDERER?!?!?!

honestly, iconic.

[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.

[thissugarcane]

I have no idea what I'm writing this for or why, but @lucifernous mentioned this is how brian would celebrate valentine's day (probably in season four) and it's sort of hysterical to me.

~

"Brian..."

Justin winced as Brian forcefully closed the fridge door. Oh well. He hadn't quiiiite slammed it.

"Please?"

He'd tried his cutest face, his pout, and even promising a whole evening of letting Brian do whatever he wanted to Justin in bed. Brian's reaction -- maybe predictably -- had been point out that there were dozens of boys in Babylon's back room Justin could fuck if he 'got the urge'.

Now Justin was as close to begging as he ever got. Brian turned to glare at Justin. "You want to fuck me," Brian said flatly.

Justin didn't respond, because -- well for one, duh. Of *course* he wanted to fuck Brian. For two, the fact that Brian wasn't banging out of the loft in disgust meant he had an in. A tiny one, sure. But an in. And Justin would use any advantage he could.

Brian continued to stare expectantly.

Justin tried, "It is a special occasion this week..." When Brian rolled his eyes so hard it moved his entire body, Justin added quickly, "Which I don't expect us to celebrate at all or anything-- Brian--"

Brian, predictably, stomped into the bedroom, and then into the shower. Justin sighed. He didn't think the 'celebrate Valentines' Day' gambit would work at all, but he was now officially out of ideas. Maybe he could take Daphne on a special date for the day.

He was just texting Emmett about casual dinner places that might do a really great Valentines day meal so he and Daphne could splurge, when Brian came stomping right back out into the main room. "I thought you were coming in the shower-- or, going to come in the shower."

Justin didn't look up -- there was a new French bistro near Emmett's place, apparently, and he'd look up their hours and reservations. "I'm trying to find a place to take Daphne on a date," he replied absently. "We don't celebrate Valentine's day but that doesn't mean I don't want to get dressed up and eat."

Emmett confirmed: lunch reservations available. Table for two, and they even had a three course taster for the day. Sweet.

"If -- and I have every faith that you'll be forfeiting -- you can manage to refrain from any and every sappy, sentimental, or otherwise nausea-inducing reference for the next forty-eight hours... perhaps the day *after* the fucking worst holiday of the year..."

Justin jumped up to kiss Brian, who instinctively wrapped his arms around Justin. He really was sweet. Deep, deep down. "I hereby renounce sap and sentiment," Justin declared. "Your ass is a prize worth any--"

"Starting already," Brian interrupted.

"That was appreciation for your sex appeal, not sentiment," Justin retorted, and grinned. "Besides, you don't hate Valentine's Day. It makes Kinnetik a shit-ton of money."

Brian pretended to look thoughtful. "I suppose *that's* true."

~