"What about Terri Spencer?" Brian asked, grinning madly to himself as he took a huge drag of a joint.
Michael was relaxed, spread across the couch languidly, his head on Brian's lap. He took the offered joint and smoked it greedily, gulping back the smoke and feeling the heady rush settle in. "Terri Spencer fancied you, Brian! She pretended to like me to get your number!"
"She knew I was gay. I never pretended back in high school." Brian laughed, stroking Michael's hair subconsciously. "You did, though. I never understood that, Mikey."
"I wasn't as tall as you, Brian! They all picked on me!" Michael complained, looking up into Brian's eyes and smiling sadly.
"Not when I got hold of them ..." Brian said softly, smiling back. His hand stroked Michael's face. "I never let them hurt you, Mikey."
"There were times you weren't around, Brian." Michael spoke so softly, Brian could hardly hear the words.
"Forget about them, Mikey. You're safe now. You're here. With me. Safe." Brian leant down, and kissed Michael on the forehead.
Michael looked up and smiled. "What about Mandy Henderton? She fancied you rotten."
Brian laughed. "Remember Phillip Moore? That sexy guy who always wore a blue shirt that matched the color of his eyes?"
Michael smiled, remembering. "Yes, did he fancy you too?"
Brian laughed a little. "Not me. You. He followed you around with puppy dog eyes for about a year. It was so obvious. I used to laugh at the way he acted around you."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael grimaced, "I really fancied him."
"I was afraid you'd run off with him, Mikey." Brian sighed, playing with Michael's slight fringe with his fingers. "I was really worried you'd take off with him."
"Its not like we ever hooked up together that way." Michael said pointedly. "I don't understand why you thought I'd spend less time with you?"
"Because I'm an ass like that." Brian laughed. "Besides, I fancied you rotten myself. Think I'd let some punk take off with you? If I didn't get you, I didn't want anyone else to either."
Michael laughed. "Liar. You were just worried you wouldn't have someone to go to the pictures on a Friday Night with."
"Sure ..." Brian sighed and closed his eyes. Even when he was being truthful, Michael dismissed his advances.
"What's up?" Michael asked, sitting upright and watching Brian attentively. "You are really ... odd this evening."
"Odd? Oh, its nothing. Just some shitter of a new account. I think I have creativity block, Mikey. I can't think of anything."
"What for?" Michael asked, curiously.
"A cookie company. They bake the finest and have been doing so since 1923. Just how on earth do you sell cookies anyway?"
"Not with sex" Michael smiled. "Cookies come after a night of passion, with a glass of warm milk. No wonder you're having trouble thinking of an idea. Cookies help round off a great evening."
Michael laughed and emphasised the word 'round' with an exaggerated circle of his fingers.
Brian laughed delightedly. "I kinda like that. Cookies round the ideal evening off. I think I might just use that."
Michael beamed proudly. Then he laughed.
"Actually, you are a creative little shit." Brian sighed. "I should get you in the office sometime. I bet you'd kickstart every ad campaign that's currently sitting on the shelf."
"I'm not that good!" Michael scoffed. "Besides, think the Big Q would survive without me?"
Brian smiled. "All I know is I can't do without you."
Brian got to his feet, eliciting a slight moan from Michael at the loss of contact. "One sec. I have to write that down."
"Write what down?" Michael asked, curiously.
"Your Big O Idea. I really like it. Cookies 'round' off the perfect evening - what better after great sex than to fall asleep with cookies and warm milk?" Brian hastily scribbled on the notepad he'd found.
"Since when did you fall asleep with cookies and warm milk?" Michael let a high-pitched laugh escape.
"I don't need to." Brian laughed, sitting back down on the couch and lifting Michael's head back into his lap tenderly. "I don't need any help getting to sleep, Michael. And neither do the guys I fuck. Guess I must get myself nice and tired first."
Michael smiled and allowed himself to drift. He was just falling asleep when he heard a naughty chuckle, and Brian disappeared again.
"Brian!" Michael complained. "Do you realise what a good cushion you make? Come back!"
"In a minute ..."
The noise of Brian shifting papers around made Michael curious, and he opened his eyes. "What are you doing?"
Brian appeared, holding a small box in his hand. "Tell me how you'd sell those then!"
Michael looked at the box in distaste. "Thank god its empty, Bri. I can't stand those things!"
"How would you sell them? I mean, can you think of one good thing about a crabstick?"
Michael grinned and sat up. He fingered the box as he remained deep in thought. "The account is with 'Freezer Fresh Company'?"
Brian smiled and nodded. "Yes, this is the one that I've found most difficult. I couldn't think of anything, and still can't. I mean, how can you promote a fucking fishy crabstick anyway? There is absolutely nothing sexy about it. In fact, its enough to put people off buying them."
Michael laughed. "Even the name puts the shivers up me, Brian. Crabsticks. Whoever thought that was a good name should be shot. Its sounds like some fucking horrid STD."
Brian grinned. "Exactly. You wouldn't believe the headache I've had over this fucking account."
Michael seemed deep in thought, then he blushed adorably and shook his head. "I don't know."
"Liar" Brian grinned. "I know you. You have an idea."
"Its not a very good one. It really stinks." Michael chuckled. "A lot like those crabsticks ..."
"Tell me anyway ..." Brian coaxed Michael's head back onto his lap and rubbed small circles with his thumbs around his forehead. "I'm not gonna laugh. You should hear the crap I came up with."
Michael relaxed under Brian's gentle touch, becoming more at ease. "Why don't they just change the name? To say ... Pinkies. Yeah, Pinkies. Long and moist and ready to swallow." A moment went by. A long silent moment. "Brian?"
"That's fucking brilliant ..." Brian was off to grab his notepad again. "Pinkies - Long and moist and ready to swallow. I really like that."
"You would." Michael laughed, "It's as horny as you are."
"You think?" Brian grinned at Michael. "You haven't seen anything yet."
"I should go." Michael groaned and rose to his feet. "I have work tomorrow."
Brian walked towards the smaller man and enfolded him in his arms. "No you don't."
"Don't, what?" Michael asked nervously, swaying a little in Brian's embrace.
"You are going to spend the night here, with me. And in the morning we are going to my workplace. Fuck the Big Q, Mikey. You're to creative to be stocking shelves."
"You really want me with you?" Michael's face broke into a huge smile.
"I have to be with you." Brian lay his forehead against Michael's. "Your going to be sick tomorrow, and I need to look after you."
Michael blushed a little and lay his ear against Brian's chest. He sighed as he heard the gentle thud of Brian's heart. "I love you, Brian."
Brian kissed Michael's forehead and closed his eyes. He felt warm and safe, and he wanted nothing more in the world than to sleep spooned beside Michael. Wake up with that Mikey smell covering him. Take him to his workplace and show him off to the whole place.
It was going to be good.
"I love you too, Mikey. Now, let's go to bed. You have a long day of sickness ahead ..."
The END.