Disclaimer: No owning, no creating, no profiting. I also do not own Cosmopolitan and nor do I have any affiliation with the magazine. There is no infringement intended and the quotes were used from the June 2005 edition.

Rating: PG

Chapter Ten: It'll Come To You

Laying on his stomach, flipping through Daphne's Cosmopolitan magazines, he gazed at all of the pretty women in their fabulous outfits and he drooled over the men in their fabulous underwear.

"This magazine is a gay man's wet dream," he murmured, taking particular interest in a man lying flat on his back, one arm resting above his head while he stared directly into the camera lens.

Daphne leaned over the edge of her bed to look down at whomever was one the receiving end of Justin's interest. She angled her head to get a better look of the man with a toned chest and a trail of hair that led into his boxer-briefs. Her brow knitted itself together for a moment, trying to place her finger on who the nameless but gorgeous man reminded her of.

It took her a moment but when she realized who the man reminded her of, she sighed and went back to her own magazine after rolling her eyes at the blond on the floor.

"He looks like Brian, that's why you like him," she responded dully.

"He does not," Justin protested as he turned the magazine on its side to change his perspective on the picture. He then cocked his head and frowned.

"Lie on your back, put your legs above your head, and the magazine above you; it'll come to you."

He glared up at her and then decided it was long past due to flip the page.

Daphne started to snigger on the bed above him and he asked what was so amusing a moment later. Apparently, some of the stories about the mother-in-laws were rather hilarious. And then she was 'oohing' and 'awing' over white wedding gowns. She rambled on how tough of a decision it was to choose the right color of white – because there were so many, Justin thought – and the right neckline as well as the length. Did she want a train? A veil? Did she want a tiara on top of her head so she would feel like a princess?

"You men have it so easy. What color is your tux? Black. What color are your shoes? Black. What color is your shirt? Oh, I think that's white."

"You think two grooms are going to wear black?" questioned Justin, rolling onto his side to look at her and propping his head up with his hand.

"I've seen it."

"I wouldn't."

"Brian would probably stick you in white."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Daphne glanced at him in midst of flipping the page. "Well, for starters, you are obviously the female in the relationship."

Justin scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Compared to Brian, you are."

He hated to admit it, but she was right.

"You're going to be a wife!" exclaimed Daphne.

Justin swore there were tears in her eyes and they were there, in his opinion, for no clear reason.

"What are you talking about? Brian and I aren't getting married."

He hated saying the latter part simply because it was true. Brian didn't do marriage but things could change he told himself. Brian was, after all, a monogamist now although it had been about two weeks and until twenty years went by would Justin really accept it. Maybe Brian would be open for the idea of getting married but Justin tried not to get his hopes up.

"Hey, Jus, listen to this: 'Take a Hiatus – "Building up anticipation can make newlywed sex more intense. When couples abstain from sex in the weeks before their nuptials, they may find that their wedding-night sex is the best sex of their lives simply because they're jonesing for it."'"

Justin looked at her like he was missing the point and he obviously was since he just shrugged, shaking his head, and raising his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed at his lack of comprehension.

"Isn't it obvious? No, I guess it's not since you're still looking at me like that. That, what I just read, is exactly what Brian is doing to you."

He thought over what she said for a second and then shook his head more firmly this time. "No, it's not exactly what he is doing to me. We're not married. We're not engaged."

"You're not yet. Think, Brian could propose any day now. He could buying the ring right now!" she squealed, jumping up into sitting position while she wore a foolish grin on her face.

Checking the clock that was on her night table, he replied casually, "Daph, it's eleven o'clock at night. I somehow doubt that."

"He's got connections. He could probably buy any jewelry store," she protested and bragged simultaneously.

"Daphne, no. It's not happening."

"You're the one who's sleeping over here so that you and Brian don't fuck like –"

"Please," he began to plead, "don't finish that sentence."

"Well, it's true."

"Do you know what happens when people get engaged?"

"Yeah, they get married," answered Daphne in a 'duh' voice.

"Yeah, after a few months, sometimes a year. Brian can't abstain from sex that long; he's barely managed almost two weeks. And quite frankly, I can't last that long either."

"Well, it says here 'Whether you're writing him suggestive emails during the workday, giving him long, lingering kisses and nothing else, or sleeping next to him naked while initiating other things but not intercourse, you're creating that necessary tension.' You can do other things besides sex."

"Brian didn't even like me sitting in his lap this morning. Somehow I doubt he would allow me to give him head. And if I did, he would come and I would come so the whole point would be lost."

"What point?" wondered Daphne, clutching the magazine loosely in her hands.

"To not come."

"You've haven't come in two weeks?"

"We're allowed to masturbate," he muttered, feeling a slight tinge of red flood his cheeks.

"And what's the difference?"

"We can't get gratification from the other, that's the difference."

"I don't get this."

"Sex and all the things that come with it, are far more pleasing when someone is doing them to you compared to yourself, right?"

"Except when the person is bad."

"Well, Brian is a fucking sex god so I don't have to worry about that."

She smiled at him and told him to continue with where he was going.

"So if my lover gives me hand, it's a lot more satisfying than if I do it myself. It's all basically a test of willpower."

"Who's winning?"

"Me."

"You sure about that?"

"Brian nearly came in his jeans this morning when I sat on him and wiggled my ass a couple times."

"And if he were to do the same, you wouldn't?"

Again, she had a point.

"Well, I think that I am the one who is less affected by it. Brian is moodier than usual and looks like he's either going to fuck me or kill me these days."

"Doesn't he always look at you like that?" she teased.

"If this bet we have going on doesn't end soon, we're both going to end of fucked," Justin muttered, running his hand back through his hair.

"By each other," she smirked, bouncy slightly on the bed.

"Exactly."

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

"It's all about pride and willpower."

"You both have it. It's obvious. You're point's proven – both of yours. Why can't you just acknowledge that and get on with everything?"

"Because we're guys, Daphne. We don't do things logically. We make stupid bets and then kick ourselves in the ass later because although they seemed great and easy in the beginning, they turned out to be bitches in the end. Whoever gives in first, is deemed weak."

"You're not weak."

"Neither is Brian."

"I think you should just give in, Justin, that way Brian will still have his pride and his ego. You're above that or at least I thought you were."

"Why would I do that?"

"Think about it. What will happen if you win? Don't you think that Brian would be a little miffed that his twink beat him?"

"Don't call me that," he muttered.

"He would be upset and then you would really have a problem on your hands."

"I hate it when you're right," Justin admitted.

"I think it's time to end this."

"I'll give it a couple more days."

"Now."

"But I want to tease him and send him suggestive emails and give him long and lingering kisses," pouted Justin.

"Think you can do that in a day?"

"Give me three?"

"One for each day? I don't think so. You've got two days."

"And if I don't fuck him by day three?"

"You're suspended."

"From what?"

"Our friendship."

"Why am I betting with you? In fact, why do I keep betting? I think I have a gambling problem."

"It's more like a deal, Justin."

"For how long will I be suspended?"

"As long as I see fit."

"This is sounding a lot like Brian and my bet."

"Only I am not trying to resist screwing you."

"Because you never resist," he commented jokingly.

"Yes, I love having hot sex with gay men who have no sexual attraction to women whatsoever."

"Really? 'Cause I do too."

She threw a pillow at him and they laughed together.

"I think I've had enough Cosmo for one night," stated Justin, closing his magazine and then grabbing Daphne's before she could protest. He put them back in the drawer of her night table where they belonged.

"Are you okay with the floor or do you want my bed?"

"I'm not going to kick you out of your bed," he said, offended.

"No, silly. I meant that you slept in it with me," she replied smiling and looking at him like he was stupid.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, sure."

They got dressed for bed and then Justin crawled in behind Daphne since she preferred the edge and he preferred the wall of her twin size bed.

"Night, Daph."

"Night, Justin."

"Try not to make any moves on me while I'm vulnerable sleeping."

"Brian would murder me if I did," she smiled in the darkness.

Daphne turned to face Justin, who was on his back, and snuggled up against him. He wrapped his arm loosely around her while she settled her hand on his t-shirt covered chest. They were both asleep within minutes, completely oblivious to the sounds of the world going on outside Daphne's open window.

"You slept with Daphne?" asked Brian, trying not to make his voice sound so incredulous but he couldn't really hide it.

"Tell me you're not jealous," said Justin, rather astonished.

"Why would I be jealous of a girl who gets to sleep with my boyfriend who I don't even get to sleep with?" wondered Brian, feigning bewilderment and looking as cool and casual as he always did.

Not only did Justin's ears perk up at the 'b' word but also Michael's.

"If it helps, she was a perfect angel and so was I. I told her not to make any moves on me and she understood that you would hunt her down and kill her if she did," he smiled and wondered if Brian thought he was telling him the truth though he completely was.

"Somehow, I can see that happening."

"The warning?" asked Michael, sipping at his coffee.

"The killing," replied Brian.

"So whom did you sleep with last night?" questioned Justin, smiling at his lover across the table from him.

"Jack Daniel."

Michael choked on his coffee and winced at his burned his throat. Brian patted his back a little harder than necessary and laughed at his friend beside him. "You okay there, Mikey?"

"I'm fine."

"He wasn't better than me?" pouted Justin.

Brian smiled. "Well, you know how turned on whiskey makes me," purred Brian. "But lucky for you, Jack can't give phenomenal head like you do."

"That was a little more than I needed to hear," muttered Michael, staring down into the black contents of the cup.

"Well, ladies," began Brian as he stood up, shrugging on his jacket, "unlike you two I have a business to run."

Brian gave Michael a soft kiss on the cheek and then moved to his lover on the other side of the table. He leaned down to kiss Justin on the cheek as well but at the last moment, Justin turned his head and caught Brian's lips with his. Justin gripped the back of Brian's neck and Brian found himself bracing himself with his hand on the table and the other on the top of the back of the booth. Justin was practically devouring him whole and licking at his bottom lip so deftly that it had Brian thinking about where else he would like Justin to lick. Their lips were fused together and at that point Brian didn't give a shit who was there, he could have fucked Justin right there in the booth in the diner – Michael there or not.

Finally, Brian pulled away and tried not to make it evident that he needed air, that his breath was coming out in short pants much like Justin's.

"I'll see you later," whispered Justin, looking at the brunet with so much lust that he basically oozed it.

"Yeah, later," stammered Brian, unable to rip his gaze from Justin's passion-filled eyes.

Shaking his head in an effort to snap himself out of whatever trance Justin had managed to enthrall him in, Brian pushed open the door to the diner and left thinking of a particular blond and what exactly he would like to do that night to him when he returned from work.

If that was how hot a simple, effortless kiss would be, Justin thought to himself while Michael continued to regard Justin like he was something amazing and that should be ogled, imagine the sex after this amount of time. Maybe Daphne was right about the abstinence even if it was for the sake of nothing unlike engagement and marriage.