Disclaimer - Showtime/CowLip own them, etc etc. I don't.

Ha! It's a sequel to Type 1. I blame paddies, seanmegansean and dameange.

Brian/Justin, humour, NC-17. Definitely heading into AU territory now, so let's say this was written for prompt .005 of au100, Last. You can see my Big Damn Table of Brian/Justin AUs here.

Many thanks to my wonderful nel. Feedback would be great!

*

It all started because Brian was bored.

As it turned out, it was a good fucking thing he *was* bored, but he didn't know that at first.

Justin had been spending the last few nights at Daphne's. Apparently he'd been inspired to paint something, and Brian was too much of a distraction. Given that how whatever Justin painted usually ended up being connected to him, Brian didn't quite understand the thinking, but just told him to do whatever he had to do.

Justin had kissed him after that.

So for the third night in a row, Brian was home alone. Where things were...quiet. He was due to meet the boys - sans Justin - at Babylon in a few hours, but until then...

He could've got up and worked on a presentation. Could've put a Brando movie on. But he was kind of stoned and didn't really want to do anything, other than Justin. Christ, he was pathetic.

So it was as he was laying there, stoned and bored, that he suddenly decided that reading a box of condoms would be a good idea.

They'd been using only the non-latex one's ever since Justin's allergy attack, of course - once you became allergic to latex, that was it for life. They were ridiculously fucking expensive (something he liked to bitch about, claiming it was all Justin's fault. "Don't blame me," Justin usually retorted, "you're the one who used to shove latex up my ass at every opportunity."), but he wasn't gonna risk buying latex condoms even just for fucking tricks - just in case. Wasn't worth accidentally fucking Justin with the wrong kind.

As a result, sex had become a lot more expensive - but also better. Non-latex condoms felt thinner, which made everything feel so much fucking better, and he almost regretted that he hadn't been using them already.

Taking another hit, he picked up the newly-bought unopened box of condoms from the bedside table, and started reading.

When his breath caught in shock, he nearly coughed a fucking lung up.

Blinking his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating - he *was* high - Brian's distinct 'oh, fuck' feeling escalated when the words he was reading didn't magically change.

The risks of pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases (STD's), including AIDS (HIV infection), are not known for this condom. A study is being done.

He nearly crushed the box in his hand. That was the stupidest fucking thing he'd ever heard. Read. What the fuck ever. They sold condoms and didn't know how effective they were at stopping STD's? As far as Brian was concerned, that was the fucking *point* of condoms.

Crushing his smoke out in the ashtray - he didn't care if he wasted the rest, he was too fucking pissed - Brian hauled himself up from his bed and stomped out of the bedroom towards his computer. A few minutes later he was online, searching for information - which only backed up what he'd already read. In fact, it only made the news worse.

Not only were the risks of STD transmission unknown, but non-latex condoms had a much higher rate of breakage.

Jesus Christ!

The only other alternative seemed to be condoms made out of 'lambskin'. And while Brian didn't particularly relish the idea of fucking Justin through any kind of farmyard animal, he was willing to consider it - until he read that although they prevented pregnancy, they didn't protect against STDs.

Truly, fate was conspiring against him.

There was no way he was fucking Justin with anything that had a higher risk of breakage or didn't protect against STDs at all. Just no fucking way. And not fucking Justin wasn't an option either.

It was...the only thing he could do...he was going to have to...

He was *so* fucked.

*

"Justin," he began, "I want us to be monogamous."

Well, what he actually said was, "Justin, we need to stop fucking other guys," but in his head it sounded exactly the same.

Once upon a time, in the early days when he was still telling himself the only reason he kept fucking the kid was because he was just that good, Justin had probably dreamed of a moment like this.

Now, he just frowned at him intently. "How much pot have you had?"

"That's not the point," Brian insisted. He'd called Justin after he'd finished scouring the internet for all useful information - and calling both the Durex and Trojan 'help lines', leaving messages giving his opinion on releasing condoms when they didn't know how fucking safe they were (he'd probably melted a few phone wires). Insisting that Justin come over immediately - inspiration notwithstanding - he'd even offered to come and pick him up himself, but Justin had just told him to stop queening out and that he'd be there soon.

And now they were sitting next to each other on the sofa. Discussing not fucking other guys.

He'd been bored less than two hours ago.

"I've been doing some reading," Brian explained. "Non-latex condoms are fucking useless."

Justin started looking concerned. "Useless?"

Okay, maybe not entirely. "They don't actually know how good they are at stopping STD's. Plus, they break easier." It'd only been a few weeks since Justin's allergy attack, and luckily they hadn't had any breakages yet.

His eyes widened. "But they're on the market *anyway*?"

Standing up, Brian gestured for Justin to follow him to the computer where he'd left some of the web pages up on the monitor. "Here."

Sitting down in the computer chair, Justin wheeled himself forward and grabbed the mouse. Nervously - no. Not nervously. Chewing the side of his thumb, Brian waited and watched as Justin frowned and read, and a few minutes later he sat back as his shoulders relaxed.

"It says right here," Justin nodded towards the monitor, "that these condoms are considered a suitable replacement for anyone with a latex allergy. If that's official medical opinion, I don't see what the problem is-"

"The problem," Brian interrupted, pulling his hand away from his face, "is that they're only saying that because there's no other alternative. We don't know for sure if they're *safe*. And I'm not fucking taking that risk."

Sighing, Justin swivelled round to face him head on, but didn't stand up. "Brian, you do get what you're implying, right? I mean you may not have actually said the M word, but if we're not fucking other guys, that's what we'll be."

Brian gritted his teeth. "I know."

Apparently that wasn't good enough. "Monogamous," Justin explained, entirely fucking unnecessarily. "You'd only be fucking me. No one else. Just you and me, foreve-"

"I get it, okay!" Jesus Christ. "Do you fucking get off on torturing me?"

"Well, yeah," he answered with a small grin and shrug. "But that's not why I'm saying it. You need be absolutely fucking sure, Brian. Something like monogamy has to be something *you* want - your own choice, not something you felt like you were forced into. You being forced into situations has never worked out well."

Okay, so he had a point.

But Brian had free will. "It's my choice to make sure you don't get sick." It was a no-brainer, really.

Expression softening, Justin stood up and took hold of Brian's forearms. "Brian, no one can guarantee that. Even regular condoms aren't one hundred per cent effective. Look, I'd love to be monogamous with you, but there's always a risk every single time you fuck. The only way to be completely safe is never to have sex at all."

"I did take my fucking health and safety class," Brian argued, a little tired of Justin's speech. "And the best way for *us* to be safe is to only fuck each other. Which is exactly what we'll do from now on." But it wasn't washing with Justin; Brian could see it in his expression. Shit. Justin had always been a stubborn little shit, and now he was going to have to bring out the big guns.

Say something...*nice*.

"I told you once that I wanted you around for a long time. That I wanted you safe." Here it went. "I meant it."

There it was.

Brian knew he'd won when Justin blinked too quickly and his lower lip wobbled. He may not have been an innocent little kid anymore, but even now, after all this time, Justin was still a sap for sap.

Forestalling any further delving into sentimentality, Brian cleared his throat and walked away from the computer. "So, we get tested tomorrow and don't fuck anybody else. In two and a half months we'll get tested again and-"

"Three," Justin interrupted. "Three months."

Brian paused by the sofa, not looking at him. "Two and a half."

"...oh." He'd obviously understood the implication. "Well, what are we gonna do for the two and a half months?"

"What do you mean?" Brian asked, finally turning to face him.

"Well I take it you still don't want to fuck with the non-latex condoms, and if that's true, how are we going to fuck at all?"

Fuck. He may not have thought this all the way through. He blamed the pot. "There's other stuff we can do," his mind raced for alternatives, even as he couldn't quite believe he was thinking up ways *not* to fuck Justin. "Blow jobs, frottage, jerking each other off..." For all his pride at being regarded by some as a sexual deviant, he was coming up surprisingly empty.

Shaking his head, Justin smiled as he walked towards him. "Brian, there's no way you can go two and a half months without fucking someone. You'll probably spontaneously combust."

He wasn't sure if he should feel insulted or proud.

But, okay. They needed a plan. "Okay. Most of the time, we do all the other shit to get off," he gestured between them. "But, every now and then, if we absolutely have to fuck, we do. But carefully. Very carefully. Nothing rough."

Justin rolled his eyes. "That sounds like fun."

Brian couldn't help wondering when the fuck he turned into the responsible one. The one advocating the ultimate safe sex. *Monogamy*. "It's only two and a half months," he said, personally thinking that two and a half months sounded really fucking long. "And then..."

Brightening, Justin stood up on his toes and wrapped his arms around Brian's neck. "You get to fuck me raw!"

Somehow he'd managed to not quite realise that. He'd known, but he hadn't really *known*.

"You loved how the thinner condoms felt, didn't you? This'll be even better. Bury yourself in my tight little ass," Justin whispered, definitely not having a problem with this anymore. "Come inside me, feel your spunk running out of my hole..."

Jesus Christ. If he kept that up, Brian'd fuck him raw right here. "Justin..."

Grinning impishly, Justin pulled back and quickly fell to his knees, pulling at the zipper on Brian's jeans.

Gasping as Justin took his cock into his mouth, Brian tipped his head back and groaned, picturing Justin in two and a half months, bent over the sofa waiting for Brian's naked cock.

Coming with a loud moan, he barely managed to stop himself from slumping forward, and decided Justin's latex allergy may have been the best thing that'd ever happened to his sex life.

~FINIS

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