Title: The "C" Word
Disclaimer: I don't own Queer as Folk
A/N: I just seriously needed a fluff break from all the angst I've been writing, working on Turning Points. I was getting depressed. Not too depressed to update, however, which I'll be doing soon. I had some issues with the next couple of chapters, but I think I've pretty much got it fixed now, for anyone who cares. (Probably no one, so I'm going to shut up)
A/N 2: One more thing, the bed mentioned in here (you'll know when you get to it) is actually real. I read about it, and I couldn't help thinking about Brian and Justin, of course, lol.
It was funny, Justin decided, how someone who valued truth above all and was often honest to a fault, could be so incredibly in denial about something so obvious.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to say anything at all, but he really just couldn't wrap his mind around the possibility that Brian really had no idea what was going on. Apparently, Justin had overestimated his boyfriend's ability to not be an idiot.
It had started the same as any other night. They'd gone to Babylon with the guys, had a few drinks, Justin had sucked Brian off in the back room, and Brian, in turn, had fucked him into the wall. A few more drinks and a trick each later, they were back home, recreating some of their fondest back room memories in the comfort of their own bed.
"That was fucking hot," Brian muttered against Justin's shoulder. The blond gave a grunt of agreement, shifting uncomfortably beneath the older man.
"Um...don't take this the wrong way...but whenever you want move..." he choked out. The older man reluctantly removed himself from his position on top of his boyfriend, where he had collapsed after an earth-shattering orgasm that had by far surpassed the blow job he'd received at Babylon, and most definitely the rather inadequate trick he'd picked up.
As Brian pulled out of him and tossed away the condom, Justin sighed and moved a little closer to the brunette. Brian automatically put his arm around the younger man's shoulders, drawing him nearer and breathing in the scent of the mop of blond hair, the owner of which pressed a gentle kiss to his chest.
"You know, it's kind of funny," began Justin casually. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the drinks he'd had, but he somehow had missed hearing the warning bells in his head that would have cautioned him about the advisability of continuing his musings out loud.
"What is?" Brian asked sleepily, eyes closed, as his stroked Justin's shoulder with the pad of his thumb.
"Well, remember how you always used to say you didn't cuddle? And now look," Justin said happily.
Brian's eyes shot open, and he looked down at the blond questioningly. "Look at what?"
Justin gestured at the two of them, bodies entwined, fit snugly together. "At...well, us. You know...cuddling."
Brian sat up suddenly, jolting Justin from his pleasant position snuggled into his side, and looking at the blond with a mixture of alarm and disbelief. "We are not cuddling."
Justin chuckled. "What else do you call it, then?"
"It's...we aren't...I don't...it's not cuddling!" Brian insisted vehemently, his voice rising in something suspiciously like panic.
"Oh come on," Justin prodded Brian with his toe. "You don't honestly believe that, do you?"
"Yes!" Brian shouted. "Because it is not cuddling! I don't fucking cuddle."
Justin rolled his eyes. "Well, you were doing a pretty good imitation of it a minute ago."
"That wasn't cuddling!
"Then what was it?"
"Not cuddling!"
"Snuggling?"
"No!"
Justin watched in mingled curiosity and amusement as Brian stood up, mid-queen out, and began pacing around the bed. "We do not," Brian stressed the word carefully, "cuddle. We never have, and we never will. I don't know what little world you're living in..."
"Obviously one that doesn't coincide with your personal Kinney-verse over there," Justin muttered. "So tell me, what reality are you living in?"
"The one where there's no cuddling! As in, the one that's fucking real, and not a product of your overactive imagination," Brian spat.
"Okay. That's great. Can we go back to bed now?" Justin asked calmly.
Brian glared at him. "We're not cuddling. We don't cuddle."
"Fine. Yeah. Whatever," agreed the blond, stifling a yawn. He wanted nothing more than to curl up between the sheets and sink into a deep, pleasant sleep, with Brian by his side. "Just come back to bed. I'm tired."
Brian eyed him cautiously as he slowly climbed back into bed and slid beneath the covers, as though he fully expected to be jumped at any second.
"Stay over there," he said gruffly to Justin, turning his back to him. Justin sighed and buried himself further beneath the blankets, seeking the additional warmth now that he no longer had Brian to curl next to.
.
"It's not cuddling."
"I know."
"It's not."
"I know, Brian."
"We never cuddled."
"I said I fucking know!"
Brian frowned, but didn't say anything more, and Justin shook his head. It seemed that declaring the lack of cuddling in their lives last night, all that morning, and the better part of the afternoon hadn't been enough. The entire car ride to Debbie's house for the weekly family dinner had been spent with Brian insisting that they never cuddled, and Justin tonelessly agreeing. He'd been regretting ever bringing it up since last night, and wondered what in the world had possessed him to do something so stupid in the first place. There was a reason beam wasn't his drink, he supposed.
Brian, thankfully, didn't say another word to him as they were welcomed into the house by Debbie, and soon they were enjoying a particularly fine meal, laughing and talking with their friends, all thoughts of the cuddle argument chased from their minds.
Shame it hadn't lasted, really.
They'd somehow gotten on the topic of popular magazines. Ben and Melanie were deep in discussion about some recent news magazine article, Emmett, Ted, and Michael were swapping stories they'd found in random trashy tabloids, Lindsay and Justin had begun chatting over some art-centered journal, while Debbie checked on the dessert in the kitchen, and Brian entertained Gus.
"Actually, that's not a bad idea. Michael and I could use one of those," Ben said thoughtfully.
"Mmm, us too," agreed Melanie, glancing at Lindsay, who had finally halted her conversation with Justin long enough to actually take a bite of food. "Couldn't we, honey?"
"What?" Lindsay asked, looking up.
"We could use one of those new beds they just came out with. They've got slats in it so couples can dip their arms in and cuddle without their limbs falling asleep," Melanie explained, eying Lindsay over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of her drink.
Lindsay nodded. "Hmm. We should think about getting one of those."
"Yeah, us too," added Ben, squeezing Michael's knee under the table.
"Us too," chimed in Justin. "Me and Brian could definitely use it."
"What's that, Sunshine?" Brian piped up unexpectedly. Justin's eyes widened, and he nearly smacked his head against the table for his stupidity.
"Nothing."
Brian cocked an eyebrow, waiting for someone to tell him what was going on. Justin sighed. "Just a bed."
"We have a bed," Brian pointed out.
"It's a different kind of bed," Justin muttered.
"It's a new design they just came out with," said Ben, when it became apparent the blond wasn't going to offer anymore information. "With slats at the top and bottom, for couples who like to cuddle so they can fit their arms or legs in between."
Brian looked back to Justin, as though asking for confirmation. The blond's reluctance to meet his eyes was confirmation enough.
"Well, we don't need that," Brian said, making a face. "That's a hetero bed."
"It's a couple bed," said Justin through gritted teeth, pushing his food around on his plate. His boyfriend really would do anything to continue deceiving himself.
Brian narrowed his eyes. "We don't cuddle," he said firmly.
Justin rolled his eyes inwardly, his gaze fixed on his plate.
And then looked up in astonishment as everyone at the table burst out laughing.
"What the fuck is wrong with you all?" Brian wondered aloud, as Justin stared around at their friends.
"Good one, Bri," said Ted, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Oh, baby, it's nice to hear you joking. You've been so tense lately," said Debbie, laying a hand on Brian's shoulder as she continued to shake with laughter.
"Again, what the fuck is the matter with all of you?" Brian demanded, shaking off Debbie's hand, and casting a panic stricken glance around at his friends.
"Well, come on," said Michael, who was laughing hardest of all. "I think we all know that's not true," which provoked another round of raucous laughter. Brian and Justin exchanged nervous glances, now seriously fearing for the sanity of their "family."
"What the fuck are you talking about? Of course it's fucking true," Brian snapped.
"Right, and I'm actually secretly straight," Emmett snorted.
"You're all high. How the fuck would you even know if we did or not?" asked Brian sensibly.
"Please, we've seen you at it!" said Ted.
"When?"
And everyone exploded into laughter again.
"Well, there was that one time..." began Ted, once he had regained enough control over himself to speak remotely coherently.
"Mmm, I know the one," said Emmett, gesturing with his fork. "That was so cute."
"Which one?" asked Michael. "In the jeep?"
"No, no...this was a different one..."
"I don't think I've heard it..."
"Will someone tell me what the fuck you think you're talking about?" Brian demanded.
"Oh, let me tell it!" pleaded Emmett. The rest of the gang looked on interestedly, and Emmett cleared his throat. "It was at one of our dinners...a while ago, now..."
It had been the first dinner in too long that had included the entire family. It was becoming increasingly common for at least one or two of the usual group members to skip out, for one reason or another. Everyone had their own lives, their own families, their own business to take care of, and it was growing more and more difficult to get everyone together on a weekly basis.
But for the first time in a month, the entire group had shown up at Debbie's doorstep, and aside from Gus's tantrum at being forced to eat more than just the pie baked for dessert, everyone had enjoyed themselves immensely.
The hour was late, Gus had long since fallen asleep in the chair in the living room, and the rest of the gang were beginning to consider leaving. But not before they watched, to Michael's reluctance and humiliation, an old video tape Debbie had recovered of her son's graduation. This included watching Brian, suave and handsome as ever, glide up to the podium to accept his diploma, as well as seeing Michael, nervous and fidgety, stumble and nearly fall halfway across the stage.
"Shut up," he said grumpily as everyone burst out laughing, but he was smiling. He and Ben had settled themselves down on the floor, backs against the couch, feet kicked out in front of them, as had Melanie and Lindsay, a few feet from them.
"Aw, you were cute. Like a little nervous puppy in a crowd," said Ben, putting an arm around Michael's shoulders.
Brian laughed from his place on the couch with Justin and Debbie. "More like a deer in headlights," he said, as, on the screen, the teenage Michael straightened up, wide-eyed, looking at the audience as though hoping they hadn't noticed his blunder.
"Brian was the only one who didn't laugh. He waited till we got done to make fun of me for all eternity," Michael said sarcastically.
"I didn't laugh!" Debbie said indignantly.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, you just stood up and yelled 'that's my baby boy!' when I finally made it across the stage and shook hands with the principal." Everyone laughed again, and Ben squeezed his shoulders.
"I remember my high-school graduation," Melanie said fondly. "I was valedictorian."
"I always thought I should have been vale-dick-torian," remarked Brian.
After about a half an hour with each of them discussing their own memories of their respective graduations, save for Justin, Melanie and Lindsay decided to take Gus home.
Melanie volunteered to get their coats, while Lindsay and Emmett finalized some details for an upcoming art show Emmett was helping to plan, Ted disappeared into the bathroom, and Michael and Ben helped Debbie clean up in the kitchen.
"That sounds fabulous," Emmett said, grinning at Lindsay. "And I brought a list of a few ideas I had, I wanted you to look over them."
"I'm sure whatever you have will be great," Lindsay said confidently, but Emmett ignored her.
"Oh, Teddy," he said, as the man appeared in the doorway. "Could you grab that paper I left on the table in the living room?"
"Sure thing."
Ted spotted the paper almost immediately, absently registering Gus in the armchair, and Brian and Justin curled together on the couch. He turned to bring the paper back to Emmet, when he suddenly froze, doing a double-take.
"Teddy? What's taking so--"
"Shh!"
Emmett had come to see what had become of his friend, as well as his list, but he, too, came to a halt at the sight of the two slumbering bodies on the couch.
"They're...they're snuggling," he said, almost wonderingly. "I didn't know they did that."
"Nobody did," said Ted slowly. "You think they do it a lot?"
The blond on the couch muttered something in his sleep, pressing himself even closer to the brunette, who's arm tightened around him subconsciously.
"They're adorable," Emmett muttered.
Ted nodded. "Let's just leave them alone."
"Before Brian wakes up and realizes what he's doing," agreed Emmett.
"But...wait, we are going to taunt him about it forever, aren't we?" Ted checked, as he and Emmett rejoined the rest of the group back in the kitchen.
Emmett hesitated. "Let's just let Justin have this one, shall we?"
"Wait just a fucking second!"
The entire group turned to look at Brian, some plainly amused, others seemingly curious, and still others obviously touched at his subconscious display of sentimentality.
"That did not happen!" Brian insisted. "They both smoked something before dinner."
Emmett snorted. "Sorry, Bri, sweetie. The only thing smoking was the burning love between the two of you!"
Ted choked on his dinner.
"Wow, Brian, I never knew you had a sweet side," teased Melanie, grinning.
"Yeah, it's good you've learned to channel your inner dyke, Brian," said Ted.
"Remind me to have someone fire you Monday, Theodore."
"Oh wait! I've got another one!" said Michael.
"Is this the one in the jeep?" Melanie asked. "I think I heard about that one."
"It's great, isn't it?" asked Ben, grinning.
"Okay, okay!" said Michael eagerly. "Listen..."
It had been a Friday night like all Friday nights...full of flashing lights, sweaty grinding bodies, and pounding music at Babylon.
Ted and Emmett had each found a guy to entertain, Michael and Ben were enjoying one last dance for the night, and Brian and Justin were kissing drunkenly and humping each other over by the bar.
The song ended, and Michael and Ben fought their way through the throng of men over to their two friends, who didn't even glance at them, much too preoccupied with more interesting things.
"You guys about ready to go?" Ben asked them, tapping Justin on the shoulder. Both men ignored him.
Michael held up a finger to Ben, signaling him to wait, then promptly smacked his two friends on the head. They smacked foreheads with a painful sounding 'thud,' then parted with a loud smacking noise and a grunt of pain each, and glared up at him.
"Come back later. We're busy. Asshole," slurred Brian, pulling Justin's head back toward his and kissing him again soundly.
"Well, we're leaving now. And we're your ride home, so get your asses in the car," ordered Michael.
"Kill joy," muttered Brian against Justin's lips.
Michael rolled his eyes. "The kill joy who happens to be bringing you home now. Come on." He seized each of them by the backs of their shirts, and began dragging them toward the exit, Ben following at his heels.
"What about Theodore and Honeycutt?" Brian demanded, twisting free of Michael's grip. "Why aren't you making them leave?"
"They brought their own cars," said Michael, ignoring Brian's childish, whiny tone. "We already told them we were leaving. Just keep walking...well, stumbling," he amended, as Brian nearly ended up face down on the club floor. "I know you at least had that extra drink. I told you to stop. How many did you have?"
"One! Or...wait, two! No four! Or...wait, what comes after four?" Brian asked, furrowing his brow in obvious confusion, and Justin collapsed into giggles.
Michael rolled his eyes again. They had reached the car at last, and with Ben's help, managed to get their two hopelessly drunken friends into the backseat.
"It's not fair! How come he gets to drive?" whined Justin.
Brian pointed an accusing finger at Michael. "Yeah Mikey. You should share. Right, Professor?" he demanded of Ben, who had just climbed into the passenger seat, not nearly as drunk as Brian and Justin, but enough so that he didn't want to take a chance driving.
"Um...right, Brian," Ben said.
"See? The Professor says you should let me drive," Brian said.
"Tell you what. I'll let you drive if you can tell me what I said to you last week about my mother?" Michael proposed.
Brian frowned. "Fuck!" he cried suddenly. "I don't remember," he mumbled, sinking back into his seat.
"That's because you don't listen," Michael scolded. "You were too busy shoving your tongue down Justin's throat."
"I'd rather shove my dick up his ass," Brian growled, pulling Justin close. Justin giggled again, blushing, and buried his head in Brian's shoulder.
"Hey!" Ben said warningly. "You two watch it back there."
"Calm down, Professor," Brian waved a placating hand. "We're not gonna fuck. Right, Sunshine?"
Justin snorted, and was completely incoherent for a good five minutes. Michael thought he might pee himself if he laughed any harder.
To Michael's relief, they were nearing Tremont Street, and Brian's building. "Okay, think you can help me get them upstairs?" he asked Ben, jerking his thumb back at their highly inebriated friends.
"Sure. I'll help Brian, you can get Justin," suggested Ben. Michael nodded, turning onto Brian's street.
Finally, they came to a stop, and Michael put the car in park. "Okay, we'll just take the elevator, and get them inside the loft. They can take it from there."
Ben nodded his agreement with the plan, but as he turned around, his mouth curved up into a smile. "Um, wait..." he said. Michael followed his gaze to the backseat, and couldn't hide a small smile himself.
They were both asleep, Brian's arm wrapped protectively around Justin's shoulders. The blond looked quite content to be using Brian as a human pillow, his mouth slightly open, as he was held snugly against the older man's chest.
"We have to wake them up?" Ben asked. They looked more at peace than he'd ever seen them. It was kind of like the reluctance to destroy an undisturbed blanket of snow. Too beautiful to ruin by touching it.
Michael sighed, still smiling, shaking his head at the two men. "We'll give them five minutes."
"Okay, now that's not fucking fair!" Brian's voice brought him back to the present. "We were drunk!"
"Excuses, excuses," Michael smirked.
Brian glowered. "You're all out of your fucking minds. We—" he gestured at himself and Justin. "Do not cuddle! I want each of you to take it back, right fucking now!" An awkward silence descended over the table.
"Brian..." began Michael.
"That's it. Come on, Justin, we're leaving," Brian barked. Justin rolled his eyes and stood up. Brian stormed out of the room, leaving the blond to make apologies, thank Debbie for the dinner and promise to drop by again soon.
He met up with Brian outside. "That was fucking rude," he told the brunette reproachfully, climbing into the passenger seat of Brian's car.
"They're all fucking liars," Brian muttered.
Justin sighed. "You should call Michael tomorrow. You hurt his feelings."
Predictably enough, Brian ignored him.
They made it all the way home without another word. Justin followed Brian into the building and up the stairs, shrugging off his jacket when they reached the loft. Brian went to take a shower, and Justin collapsed in bed with a sketchpad. When Brian slid beneath the covers a little while later, he made sure he was well over on his side of the bed.
As Justin put away his sketchpad for the night and Brian hit the lights, the blond contemplated whether saying anything was a good idea or not.
He decided on not, but did it anyway.
"They're not lying, you know," he said fairly. He could practically feel Brian's body tense up, even from all the way over on the other side of the bed. "Even if we were sleeping, you know that stuff has happened."
Brian didn't answer. Justin sighed.
"It's okay...Brian...to want to hold someone. There's nothing wrong with that. It's..." he teetered on the edge of saying 'comforting,' but thought that might be pushing it too far. "It's okay to want to feel someone next to you."
"We don't cuddle," said Brian after a moment. "Even if that stuff they said was true...we were sleeping or drunk both times. We didn't even know..."
"Brian," Justin interrupted. "Do you remember...the first time we had sex after...after I got out of the hospital?" He'd almost said 'after I was bashed,' but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
It was silent for a moment, then Brian answered tensely. "I remember."
"Well...I never said anything, but...afterwards, when I kind of rolled away? I guess you thought I was sleeping, cause you waited a while, but...you rolled over and put your arm around me. And don't even say you were asleep, because I felt you kiss my cheek," Justin said hurriedly, determined to corner his stubborn boyfriend. "You held me then. All night, because I woke up before you and we were still like that. You weren't sleeping then. You were holding me and you weren't sleeping."
Brian was silent for so long, Justin had just about given up on obtaining an answer from him, when he spoke, his voice soft and barely audible.
"No. I wasn't sleeping then."
They didn't say another word to each other all night, but when Justin awoke the next day, it was to find himself wrapped snugly within a blanket of Brian.