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

A 211 AU. What if Lindsay *had* taken Brian up on his offer...? Ahhh, season two Justin. You little shit. *pat pat*

Brian/Justin, I'll rate this R just because there's quite a lot of bad language.

Feedback would be fab :)

***

Considering the fact that he didn't want to be there in the first place, the wedding wasn't the nightmare it could have been. That was mostly due to the copious amounts of free alcohol - courtesy of Emmett's millionaire - and the amusement he derived from seeing Justin in 'dress up' clothes. They just didn't sit on Justin's frame quite right, and Brian decided the best way to deal with the problem was to take the clothes off said frame.

Of course, first he had to sit through the 'I do, yadda yadda' portion of events and though it was tedious waiting for the reception to start - Brian shot Justin a look that said he'd crush him if the kid even *thought* about catching the bouquet - his patience paid off when Justin didn't even hesitate at the suggestion of a quick fuck in the bathroom.

But then Justin had been enthusiastic about everything since Brian had very casually mentioned the fact that he was going to the wedding, and Linds and Mel were using his plane tickets for their honeymoon. He distinctly remembered his name being squealed and Justin throwing himself at him, which - though he'd only ever think it while no one else was around, just in *case* they'd developed telepathy - almost made the whole thing worthwhile.

Christ, he really was turning into a dyke, and made up for it by fucking Justin harder.

The food turned out to be pretty damn good, and he poked at a second slice of cheesecake with his fork, telling himself he didn't want it as the speeches were made (none by Lindsay or Mel's family, of course).

"Come dance with me," Justin said later, tugging at his arm, but it was one thing to be at a wedding and an entirely different thing to *dance* at a fucking wedding, so Brian resisted.

"There are plenty of kids your own age out there already," Brian told him, pointing to someone's six-year-old daughter spinning around on the dance floor.

"Fuck you," Justin laughed, then turned and danced with the girl anyway.

Lounging back in his chair, Brian was doing a pretty good job of Not Watching Justin At All when something whacked him on the side of the head. Recognising the source instantly, he still wasn't fast enough to move away.

"You little shit!" Debbie lunged, smothering him with a hug.

"Jesus!" Brian cried, losing his glass of champagne somewhere. Christ, that woman had no concept of personal space.

"I'm so fucking proud of you," she clung tighter, moving to kiss the side of his face. "If you need *any* help looking after that kid of yours, you just let me know, okay?"

Fuck, this was why he never tried to make shit like this public - everyone always had to make a big fucking deal about it. It didn't *mean* anything. Everyone was entitled to a fucking honeymoon even if marriage was a farce.

"Will you get the fuck off me?" he asked as calmly as possible, and for once Deb co-operated.

But not before placing another kiss on the side of his face.

When she was gone Brian sank gratefully back against his chair, only to realise Justin was standing a few feet away, grinning at him.

"Not one fucking word," Brian warned.

Justin pursed his lips together. "It's just..."

"Justin..."

"You got a little lipstick," he gestured towards his own left cheek, obviously referring to Brian's.

Cursing under his breath, Brian stood and made a beeline for the bathroom. Once there he winced at his reflection in the mirror, ran some tissue under the tap and started rubbing at the bright red lipstick.

Unsurprisingly Justin turned up a few moments later, standing to Brian's right.

Brian frowned at him. "What are you looking at?"

"Try as you might to convince people otherwise," Justin smiled, "you're a good man, Brian Kinney."

Jesus Christ. He rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"*No*, I'm not."

Quickly snatching the damp tissue out of Brian's hand, Justin grabbed his chin and turned it towards him, removing the lipstick himself. "Yes you aaaaaaaare," he sing-songed.

"Justin,"

"Briiiiiian..."

He was so fucking irritating sometimes. "Do you *want* me to smack you?"

"Is that a promise?" Justin flirted before turning Brian's face to one side and, evidently deciding it was as clean as it was getting, lowered his hands.

"Keep it up and I won't fuck you for a month."

"Yeah, right," he replied. "You haven't been able to resist me for even a week. In fact," Justin made a deliberate show of thinking about it. "Discounting hospital stays, I think the longest we've ever gone without fucking is four days. And that was before I was even living with you."

"And *thank* you for reminding me of that fact," was all Brian could retort, because the little shit was right and they both knew it. Why the hell *did* he keep coming back for more?

"You're welcome," Justin grinned, throwing the tissue away and wrapping his arms around Brian's neck, leaning in for a kiss.

Brian could have pushed him away, could have made some caustic remark and ignored him for the rest of the night, but...well, it was just easier not to.

***

Keeping Gus for longer than a few hours soon threw up more complications than Brian was expecting - for one, they didn't have a bed for the kid. When he'd looked after him before, Gus had usually fallen asleep in his car seat, but he was bigger now and used to a little more room.

Brian's own bed seemed the best option, but he was paranoid about leaving Gus on his own and equally paranoid about rolling over in the middle of the night and suffocating him.

Brian didn't get a lot of sleep that night.

Justin - having been forced to sleep on the sofa - roused him in the morning looking too damn perky, carrying a mug of coffee and the words, "You need to get a crib for him."

Sad, but true, unless he wanted to spend another night like the previous one. Brian was going to have to go shopping for...baby things.

There was no way he could send Justin on his own. Justin had good taste in exactly two things - men and art - and Brian wasn't entrusting him with something as important as his son's crib. Justin was certainly coming with him, though, because there was no way in hell he was pushing a pram *anywhere*.

A few hours and seven cups of coffee later, a pair of automatic doors opened before them. Keeping his shades on, Brian strode inside. If he was going to do this, he was going to be the best fucking crib buyer they'd ever seen.

"Careful, Butch," Justin teased, pushing the pram along, "if your testosterone level gets any higher the building might implode."

"Ha fucking ha," Brian answered, scanning the different sections until he found what he was looking for. "This way," he nodded towards it, and started walking.

By the time ten minutes had passed, they'd looked at six different cribs and Brian wasn't happy with any of them. His shades had long since been pushed up into his hair, and Justin was a half-decent sounding board for Brian's crib-related grievances.

"Why can't anyone design a crib that's easy to store when it's not being used, *and* look like something that isn't out of Dyke's Homes Monthly?"

Justin snickered. "I'm telling you, the second one was definitely our best option."

"It had *frills*."

"You can take them off, you know."

"No frills are *ever* coming into my loft. That's why Emmett is permanently banned."

Justin shook his head. "You think you're so-"

"Oh, what a beautiful baby!"

Brian instantly turned towards the voice, because whoever thought his kid was beautiful obviously had good taste.

It was a woman - in her sixties, maybe - and she'd bent down to fuss over Gus.

"Thanks," Justin said happily, ignoring Brian as he rolled his eyes. "His name is Gus."

Looking up, the woman smiled at Justin before moving her gaze to Brian. "He looks so much like you. How old is he?"

"Almost fifteen months," Brian answered.

"Such a great age," she enthused, making faces at the baby. "I'm here to get something for my granddaughter, but I have to admit I kind of miss having my own."

"Want this one?" Brian offered.

"Brian!" Justin sounded horrified. Brian smirked.

Laughing, the woman stood back up - with a little assistance from Brian. "Oh, thank you. I have to say, the three of you make a beautiful family. And if you're looking at cribs," she finished, pointing to the one drowning in frills, "I'd suggest that one."

Justin beamed.

Brian groaned. "Oh, shut up."

***

Stopping at the diner for lunch was essential, mostly because Debbie went nuts over Gus and took the burden of responsibility off Brian's shoulder for the duration.

Justin seemed friskier than usual, rubbing Brian's thigh, playing with his hair - probably because of what the woman in the store had said, but Brian decided not to ruin a good erection by focusing on that - and soon they were making out heavily. They'd both been too tired to fuck last night and hadn't found time this morning, and never mind not resisting Justin for four days - at the moment 24 hours seemed too fucking long.

"Hey, boys," a voice interrupted that Brian fuzzily identified as Debbie's, "if you two are gonna fuck right here, can you at least wait until I post signs and charge admission?"

Snorting, Brian broke away from the kiss and looked at her, which was kinda hard...difficult when Justin's mouth moved down to play with his neck. "Sorry, Deb."

"I can see that," she retorted, before focusing her attention on Gus who was propped up against her right side. "Your Daddy's a sex addict, yes he *is*! And now he needs to take you so Auntie Debbie can get back to work!"

Chuckling, Justin eventually stopped sucking on Brian's neck long enough to turn and hold out his arms. "Here, I'll take him."

Holding Gus under the arms securely, Deb passed him over, but when Gus' weight moved over to Justin exclusively everything went to hell. Dropping suddenly, Gus wailed in surprise. All three of them made a grab for him but Brian got the upper hand, tucking Gus against his chest and quickly shushing him.

Justin cursed loudly, anxiously shifting on his seat. "Shit, shit, *fuck*! Is he okay? Tell me he's okay. Is he-?"

Gus was settling down already. "He's fine, Sunshine. See? He just likes to queen out every now and then, just like..."

Justin didn't wait to hear anything else, pushing himself up from their booth and bolting for the bathroom.

Sighing heavily, Brian lowered his head and rubbed his chin gently against Gus. When he looked up, Debbie's worried gaze held his.

"Do you want me to...?" She started, but Brian shook his head.

"I got it." He had more experience of dealing with Justin like this than anyone. "Just keep an eye on our stuff."

Keeping a tight hold on his son, Brian made the trip to the bathroom and pushed open the door. It looked the same as it always did - two small cubicles, a sink and mirror against the opposite wall, and a hand dryer to one side. Of course, given that Deb worked there, the walls were plastered with pro-gay leaflets and flyers.

The difference this time was the blond princess muttering to himself and wiping at his face. Spinning around, Justin's eyes widened when he saw Brian and Gus.

"You planning on coming out anytime soon?" Brian asked, because he'd learnt a long time ago that Justin hated it when he treated him differently. "Or should I have Deb make up a..." He made a point of wrinkling his nose at the very idea, "...doggy bag."

There was a brief huff of laughter, at least, before Justin's gaze fell to the floor. "I..." He coughed and looked back up, eyes watering with fresh tears. "I actually manage to *forget* sometimes, you know?" Brian did. Brian fucking knew exactly what he meant. "I haven't had the dreams for a while; my hand's been pretty good the last few weeks. And then..." His mouth pulled into a tight line. "My stupid fucking gimp hand! If I ever hurt Gus I'd never forgive my-"

"You're not going to hurt him," Brian interrupted, taking a step closer, "because you care about him. You care about him more than my own god damned parents cared about me. So you have a gimp hand - deal with it. Here," he held Gus out, "take him."

Justin's eyes widened. "No way."

"*Take him*," Brian ordered. "You're ambidextrous, right?"

"Uh...pretty much," Justin confessed softly.

Brian nodded. "Then if you're worried, take most of his weight on your left arm. Come on," he prompted, gesturing with his head.

Licking his lips, Justin slowly and carefully took Gus from Brian. Only when it was clear that he wasn't about to drop him did Justin tell Brian to let go, and held Gus securely against the left side of his body.

"There you go," Brian said quietly, reaching up to rub his hand over Gus' hair and hoping he'd never have to see that anxiety on Justin's face again. Pausing, he waited until Justin looked at him again before speaking firmly. "You know I'd never let you anywhere near my kid if I didn't trust you."

Justin swallowed heavily, staring. "I know."

"Good," Brian said. "Now, let's get the fuck out of here. We've got frilly things to destroy."

***

The crib took some kind of mathematical genius Brian didn't possess to build - he was beginning to think that maybe he should've asked someone at the store to do it, but that would have meant admitting that he couldn't do it himself. Four long, frustrating hours later, it was finally ready.

Justin had kept Gus occupied ("Say Justin, Gus." "Dada," "*Justin*." "Mama!"), so thankfully the kid was worn out when they put him down to sleep. Lowering the lights, Brian headed gratefully towards the shower.

"You know," Justin said, placing the baby monitor by the sink before joining Brian and running the soap over his back, "despite what happened at the diner, I had a really good time with Gus today."

"We have a whole 'nother day of it tomorrow," Brian reminded him. "Just wait. You'll be screaming for mercy by the end of it."

"Mmmm," Justin said, pressing against his back, "I'm hoping it's something else that'll have me screaming for mercy pretty soon."

Turning in the shower, Brian smirked down at him. "Now, how can I refuse an offer like that?"

"You can't," Justin replied smugly, shaking the water out of his face; then gasping when Brian suddenly flipped him around and pushed him against the wall of the shower.

Justin was right, of course, but whatever Brian ended up doing he did it *his* way. And if that meant fucking the shit out of Justin while his son slept in his new non-frilly crib...well, that just made life more interesting.

~FINIS

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