Title: Lost and Found
Timeline: Post-513
Author's Notes: Fluffy ficlet. A huge thank you to![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
xie_xie_xie for the beta, and the title.
* * *
Down the hall, 3rd door on left.
I hit send, and wait for Brian to come find me.
When we first moved in here together, I joked that it was so big I'd get lost. Brian did that condescending pat on the head thing he does, and said “you'll manage.” So just to piss him off, I called his cell from somewhere in the house asking for directions.
The first time, he gave me directions to his study, and then made me blow him as a reward. Like it was a hardship or something, sheesh. The second time he just hung up on me. Bastard.
He pretended it didn't annoy him, but he'd stopped answering by the third time, so it did, which was no fun for me.
So I started texting.
Stuff like, I'm in a blue room with 2 windows, where am I?
He'd respond with an ever-charming Fuck you, which I would answer with, Yes please, and then he'd storm up the stairs or down the hallway – I found it was better to be as far away from him at the time as possible so by the time he got to wherever the hell I was he'd be hard and slightly pissed and I knew I was about to get fucked into the mattress. Or carpet. Or bench top.
Which is why I kept doing it.
Brian started doing it, too, after a while. I'd be working in the studio, and I'd get a text that read come blow me, but he wouldn't tell me where he was. Like I said, bastard. So I'd have to wander around the house trying to find him, and of course he wasn't anywhere you'd expect. Once he was in the fucking stables! It took me 20 minutes to find him. I did more than just blow the asshole. I had it, too.
Well, payback's a bitch, so after that I pulled out all the stops. I got ready, went all the way up to the attic, which we'd only been in once since we moved in, took off my clothes, and sent him a text: I'm lubed and ready.
I don't know about Brian, but waiting for him to find me was the longest 10 minutes of my life. When he finally burst through the door, eyes blazing, and saw me, I knew I was in for it. He was out of his clothes and had me pushed up against the window fucking the shit out of me in about five seconds flat.
Outside, the grounds were covered in a beautiful layer of white, and soon my breath fogged up the window, making it white, too. After we came, and caught our breath, Brian wrapped us both in a blanket, and we sat for a long time and watched the snow falling. It's probably my favorite memory from this house.
I'm snapped out of my reverie by the sound of Brian coming through the door. Third door on the left. He has one eyebrow raised.
“Sorry, I didn't interrupt anything important, did I?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“You know very well you've interrupted some very, very important work, Justin. Work which I told you this morning wasn't to be interrupted.”
“Really? Gosh Brian, I don't remember that. I'm sorry.” I look up at him from under my lashes. He can't resist that look.
“Oh, I'm sure you don't.” He totally doesn't believe me.
“Ok, ok. So I did remember. But I just realized there was some very important household work that we've neglected, and I wanted to rectify the situation immediately, Mister Kinney.” He also can't resist a well-placed Mr. Kinney.
“And what is this important household task that's been neglected, Mister Taylor?”
I beam. “We haven't christened this room yet! Last one left on this floor.”
“Well now, I guess we really have been remiss. Let’s tackle this problem immediately.” And he grabs me around the waist and throws me onto the sofa.
I laugh. “Tackle the problem, Brian. Not tackle me.”
“You complaining?” he asks, lifting his mouth away from where he's nibbling at my neck.
I groan. “Fuck no.”
“No fuck?” He deliberately misunderstands me. The ass.
“Ass. Now. Fuck”
“Say please.”
I whimper. “Tell me again why I keep you around?”
“Because you love my cock.”
“Oh yeah, that's right. So put it to good use, Mister Kinney.”
And he does.
Later, when I'm sprawled on my stomach on the sofa and Brian's pulled his jeans back on, he crouches down and kisses my cheek. Then pats my other cheek, which is still a little sore from the punishment I got for interrupting his work.
I flinch, and he smiles before he leaves.
I'm lying there, blissed out and half asleep, when I hear my phone ping. I rifle through the pockets of my pants, which are abandoned on the floor, and pull out the phone. It's from Brian.
I <3 you.
I hit reply and type: I luv u 2, you nerd, and then sit back to plan our next household adventure.
Timeline: Post-513
Author's Notes: Fluffy ficlet. A huge thank you to
xie_xie_xie for the beta, and the title.* * *
Down the hall, 3rd door on left.
I hit send, and wait for Brian to come find me.
When we first moved in here together, I joked that it was so big I'd get lost. Brian did that condescending pat on the head thing he does, and said “you'll manage.” So just to piss him off, I called his cell from somewhere in the house asking for directions.
The first time, he gave me directions to his study, and then made me blow him as a reward. Like it was a hardship or something, sheesh. The second time he just hung up on me. Bastard.
He pretended it didn't annoy him, but he'd stopped answering by the third time, so it did, which was no fun for me.
So I started texting.
Stuff like, I'm in a blue room with 2 windows, where am I?
He'd respond with an ever-charming Fuck you, which I would answer with, Yes please, and then he'd storm up the stairs or down the hallway – I found it was better to be as far away from him at the time as possible so by the time he got to wherever the hell I was he'd be hard and slightly pissed and I knew I was about to get fucked into the mattress. Or carpet. Or bench top.
Which is why I kept doing it.
Brian started doing it, too, after a while. I'd be working in the studio, and I'd get a text that read come blow me, but he wouldn't tell me where he was. Like I said, bastard. So I'd have to wander around the house trying to find him, and of course he wasn't anywhere you'd expect. Once he was in the fucking stables! It took me 20 minutes to find him. I did more than just blow the asshole. I had it, too.
Well, payback's a bitch, so after that I pulled out all the stops. I got ready, went all the way up to the attic, which we'd only been in once since we moved in, took off my clothes, and sent him a text: I'm lubed and ready.
I don't know about Brian, but waiting for him to find me was the longest 10 minutes of my life. When he finally burst through the door, eyes blazing, and saw me, I knew I was in for it. He was out of his clothes and had me pushed up against the window fucking the shit out of me in about five seconds flat.
Outside, the grounds were covered in a beautiful layer of white, and soon my breath fogged up the window, making it white, too. After we came, and caught our breath, Brian wrapped us both in a blanket, and we sat for a long time and watched the snow falling. It's probably my favorite memory from this house.
I'm snapped out of my reverie by the sound of Brian coming through the door. Third door on the left. He has one eyebrow raised.
“Sorry, I didn't interrupt anything important, did I?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“You know very well you've interrupted some very, very important work, Justin. Work which I told you this morning wasn't to be interrupted.”
“Really? Gosh Brian, I don't remember that. I'm sorry.” I look up at him from under my lashes. He can't resist that look.
“Oh, I'm sure you don't.” He totally doesn't believe me.
“Ok, ok. So I did remember. But I just realized there was some very important household work that we've neglected, and I wanted to rectify the situation immediately, Mister Kinney.” He also can't resist a well-placed Mr. Kinney.
“And what is this important household task that's been neglected, Mister Taylor?”
I beam. “We haven't christened this room yet! Last one left on this floor.”
“Well now, I guess we really have been remiss. Let’s tackle this problem immediately.” And he grabs me around the waist and throws me onto the sofa.
I laugh. “Tackle the problem, Brian. Not tackle me.”
“You complaining?” he asks, lifting his mouth away from where he's nibbling at my neck.
I groan. “Fuck no.”
“No fuck?” He deliberately misunderstands me. The ass.
“Ass. Now. Fuck”
“Say please.”
I whimper. “Tell me again why I keep you around?”
“Because you love my cock.”
“Oh yeah, that's right. So put it to good use, Mister Kinney.”
And he does.
Later, when I'm sprawled on my stomach on the sofa and Brian's pulled his jeans back on, he crouches down and kisses my cheek. Then pats my other cheek, which is still a little sore from the punishment I got for interrupting his work.
I flinch, and he smiles before he leaves.
I'm lying there, blissed out and half asleep, when I hear my phone ping. I rifle through the pockets of my pants, which are abandoned on the floor, and pull out the phone. It's from Brian.
I <3 you.
I hit reply and type: I luv u 2, you nerd, and then sit back to plan our next household adventure.
2 comments | Leave a comment