Title: Conspiracy
Fandom: Queer as folk
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Author: Ridiculously Romantic
Length: 200 words
Timeline: post S4-ish
Disclaimer: I'm still fighting showtime and cowlip for custody.
Author's note: a full listing of all my stories is at livejournal, user name rrromantic
Conspiracy
"He doesn't like red," the flower vendor said, gesturing to the bunch of roses Brian was holding.
"Who?"
"Your partner."
"What the fuck do you know about Justin?"
"I've seen you guys at the diner. Blond, bright smile? He stops by often. Picks up yellow roses, looks at 'em, puts 'em back. So I asked him 'why not buy 'em?'"
"What did he say?" Brian asked, his curiosity piqued in spite of his irritation at the old man's interference in his life.
"His partner doesn't believe in romance."
Wise eyes smiled at Brian, and he dropped the roses in the bucket as if they had suddenly grown thorns through his gloves. Stuffing his fists into his coat pockets he sneered, "Romance is bullshit. We're not a couple of dykes."
"He said you'd say that," the vendor chuckled.
Brian opened his mouth, but no quick retort came to mind, and thoughtfully he stared at the flowers. So the little shit thought Brian was predictable enough to discuss him with a stranger, did he? "I'll take those two. And they had better be fucking fresh."
"He said you'd say that too. Didn't say nothin' 'bout you taking two though."
"Make it four."