Cuff ‘Em, Vamp ‘Em, or Just Make ‘Em Come Already Challenge
Queer as Folk, US. (The Challenge Masterlist)
My bad: season 4 spoiler. So, season 4. God, I just can't wrap my head around season 4's plot.
Thank you, fiercediva for the excellent betaing :)
It was two in the morning when they finally exited Babylon. Justin, Brian observed,
was still high as a fucking kite. Brian had come down an hour ago--which was
to be expected, really, with the sort of tolerances he’d built up in the twelve
years he had on Justin.
“Let’s go this way!” said Justin, grabbing his hand and towing him determinedly. They’d left the car so far away that they probably could have walked home faster. Brian had to concentrate for a second to remember where they were parked. He realized Justin was pulling them in the wrong direction.
“Hold it there, Sunshine,” he ordered, grabbing the hand that was grabbing him and yanking Justin back towards him. Justin laughed and deliberately let himself crash into Brian, who staggered a little but hugged Justin closer to keep him from veering off again. Justin buried his cold nose in the neck of Brian’s coat. Brian flinched, sighed, and then let him. Until Justin tried tucking cold hands up underneath Brian’s coat. “Hey!” Brian protested as he caught them. “Where did you put your gloves?”
“At home, in the glove drawer,” said Justin, still attempting to burrow.
“Well, what are they doing there?” Brian asked patiently. He deliberately assumed a patronizing tone, hoping to gage Justin’s level of sobriety by how annoyed the response might be.
“Being warm,” said Justin. “C’mon. I want to see the water.” Not good. Not annoyed at all. And what the hell was this about water? They were in the middle of a city, far from the park with the ornamental lake. The closest river was at least a couple of miles away.
“Justin, let’s go home.”
“It’s just over here,” he said, breaking away and dragging Brian out the other end of the alleyway. And there was water. Brian laughed.
They’d had snow yesterday, but today the temperature had turned unseasonably warm. The ten inches coating the streets had melted into the largest pothole Brian had ever seen. It looked like a black hole. Ice formed at its edges. The streetlight glare made it impossible to see into. Justin let go of Brian’s hand and went to the very edge, exaggeratedly looking both ways for cars.
“If you fall in, I’m not coming in after you,” Brian said. Though he’d have to, of course, which caused Brian to take preventative measures. He darted in to seize Justin’s arm, but Justin saw him coming and stepped out of reach, right into the gigantic puddle.
His leg disappeared up to mid-calf. Brian made another grab, but Justin’s shaky balance gave way as he continued his slow-motion fall into the water.
Dirty water splashed the hem of Brian’s coat as Justin sat down hard in the puddle, laughing and shivering.
Then it started to rain.
There were a few snowflakes in there, just to top it off. Brian glared on general principle--at Justin, at the universe--and then took action.
“Get up, Justin,” said Brian. Still laughing, Justin managed to get even wetter in his halfhearted attempts to push himself out of the puddle. Brian grabbed one of his elbows and hauled him bodily out of the water. It was a good thing he worked out regularly, Brian mused. Justin in sopping–wet winter clothes was nothing to laugh at, twink or not.
The dip must have weakened his high a little, because Justin didn’t resist as Brian dragged him back to the car, stripped him of his coat and shoes, wrapped the emergency blanket from the trunk around him and shoved him inside. By then, Justin’s teeth had started chattering.
Brian climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He cranked up the heat to let things defrost and looked at Justin, who was decidedly more pale than usual. It was futile being annoyed with him when he was like this. The thing to do now was get him home and make him dry and warm; plenty of time to get annoyed later. Brian had to pay attention to actually driving then, because the roads were slippery and the last thing he wanted was the irony of surviving cancer, only to crash and die two blocks from his house.
He swung into his parking spot and pulled up on the emergency brake. Justin had been quiet on the short ride back--never a good sign--and were his lips actually blue now? Justin's teeth chattered harder, but he gave Brian a cheerful smile.
"I can't feel my feet!" he announced, and laughed. Brian pulled open his door. He had two options: try to stuff Justin's frozen feet back into his sopping shoes or...carry him. Shit. Justin was heavy enough naked, but soaking-wet and clothed...
He made it through the parking garage and propped Justin in a corner of the elevator.
"You could carry me over the threshold," Justin chuckled as he leaned in to kiss Brian's neck.
"I could throw you over the threshold, too," said Brian, but without any real annoyance. He unlocked the door, wrapped a hand around Justin's arm, and propelled him into the bathroom. "Strip," he commanded, turning on the shower. Justin's whole body was trembling now, and he was cool to the touch. Not good. He was still slightly high, too, bouncing unsteadily and wracked with shivers. Sighing, Brian stripped too and wondered when he'd gotten so moral that he would climb into the shower with his hot, naked, hypothermic boyfriend -- not in order to take glorious advantage of him and fuck him hard against the nearest wall, but to make sure he didn't drown.
The things he did for l--.
The things he did for Justin.
He tested the water--not too hot, just above lukewarm--and shoved Justin in before him. Justin homed in on the water with surprising accuracy, given his recent instability, though Brian left a supportive hand on his back. He shut the door after himself and moved to just out of the water’s range, close enough to make sure Justin remained in the stream. Justin turned to wrap his arms around Brian's neck, letting his body go limp against his chest. After a minute, he sighed and stopped shivering.
Brian turned up the temperature and maneuvered himself gingerly into the water. He knew Justin was really okay when his cock started digging into Brian’s hip and his mouth pressed against his neck. Brian detached him and held him out at arm’s length.
Lips: no longer blue. Hair: no longer frost-tipped. Toes: ruddy instead of corpse-white. Cock: a very healthy pink. Satisfied, Brian drew him back in and kissed him under the spray. He ran one hand down Justin’s back, tangled the other in his hair, and Justin responded by opening his mouth, closing his eyes, and getting even warmer. In fact, by the time Brian broke the kiss in order to shove him up against the shower wall, his skin was positively flushed.
“Don’t pull that shit ever again, Sunshine.” Brian didn’t know what that really meant. Maybe, ‘Don’t scare me like that,’ or ‘Learn to handle your goddamned drugs.’ He rolled a condom on, held Justin’s hips still and moved slowly inside. Then he tugged Justin’s head back onto his shoulder so that he could speak right into his ear. “Say it, Justin.” He thrust again, slow and deep. Justin made a small noise in the back of his throat and pushed back against Brian. “I don’t care if the drugs made you too hot. Say it.” He thrust deeper to punctuate his point and bit Justin, just a little too hard.
“I won’t...do it again,” Justin breathed, his voice so low with lust that Brian wouldn’t have heard it if they hadn’t been pressed together.
“Good,” said Brian. He wrapped an arm around Justin’s chest, turning him away from the wall, back into the water. Then he rocked into Justin in earnest, sometimes thrusting his tongue into Justin’s mouth to taste the noises he was making, and sometimes just closing his eyes and pressing his face against Justin’s hot flesh.
When he felt Justin’s whole body clench around him, he followed.
Later in bed, hip pressed against hip, Brian practiced his smoke rings and reveled in the way Justin’s skin was still warm.
“So are you going to try and tell me never to take drugs again?” asked Justin. “Because I swear I’m done falling into icy water.”
“I can’t tell you not to do drugs,” replied Brian, glancing at him and raising an eyebrow. “I’d be a fucking hypocrite. But no more puddles. Just say ‘no’ to hypothermia.”
Justin snorted, burrowed into Brian’s side, and fell asleep almost immediately.