Disclaimer - CowLip/Russell T Davies/Showtime own the characters.

Okay, I had to mess with the timeline a bit for this to work so it could be considered an AU, but it's definitely set some time after 309. Basically it ignores a lot of season three's plot developments except for the B/J *g*.

Brian/Justin, rated R for language. Humour!

Many thanks to nel! *smooch* Feedback would be great.

*

It wasn't like anyone had said anything at the time (apart from Linds, Mel, Mikey, Deb, Vic, Ted and Emmett. Oh, and Daphne) but Brian had been observant enough to notice that Justin hadn't really been happy with the present Brian'd bought him for his 19th birthday.

And it wasn't like he needed to apologise, because hey - the hustler really *did* look just like that model Justin drooled over every time he saw him. But the thought struck Brian, as he was contemplating some form of movement, that it might be a good idea to get something that wouldn't piss Justin off this year.

The question was, what the hell was that something?

Justin was into art, sure, but Brian tended to tune him out when he went rambling on about whose work he liked. Brian could always tell him not to bother paying back the loan for IFA, but Justin was on this whole independence kick now and would probably view it as an insult.

He could try asking Jennifer or Daphne, but then they'd *know* he'd been thinking about what to get Justin for his birthday, and Brian had a reputation to maintain.

He could offer to stop tricking for like...a week or something, but somehow that didn't feel any better than the hustler idea.

There was no way in hell he was gonna just come right out and ask him, so Brian decided he'd just have to wait and see if Justin dropped any hints, or mentioned something he was interested in before his birthday and hope that he could come up with an idea for a gift.

Brian's contemplation of movement had turned into contemplation of what to do after he moved - fucking, then a shower? A shower followed by fucking? Fucking *in* the shower? - when Justin yawned beside him.

"Hey, Brian?"

"Mmm?" Talking required movement.

"Have you bought anything for my birthday yet? Because there's this art software package I've been looking at."

Well, that was easy.

After option C - fucking in the shower - Brian moved to the computer and ordered the art software Justin wanted. It arrived two days later already professionally wrapped (it was only $1.65 extra, and Brian had all the gift-wrapping skills of a blind elephant), and Brian stuck it in his underwear drawer until he realised that was stupid because Justin knew what he was getting anyway, and left it sitting on top of the chest of drawers.

Deb cornered him the next time he walked into the diner.

"Listen, you little asshole, you better get him something nice for his birthday. After all the shit you two have been through the last thing he needs is for you to make the same mista-"

"Can I get a blowjob to go?" he interrupted, grabbing Justin's arm as he swept by, apron flapping around his thighs.

Rolling his eyes, Justin leant towards him and bumped Brian with his hip. "Come on, you can wait the twenty minutes until I'm finished. Want your usual?"

"Always," Brian smirked, still holding Justin's arm and tugging him in for a quick kiss.

"Careful," Justin teased when he pulled away, "that sounds dangerously like commitment." Then laughed when Brian released his arm to smack him on the ass.

Practically dancing away, Justin left to put his order in as Brian turned his attention back to Deb. She seemed a little happier, but was still giving him a small version of the evil eye. Maybe it was just the make-up she was wearing.

"I solemnly swear," Brian held up his right hand, "I did not get Justin a hustler for his birthday."

She clapped him around the head, as he'd expected, but she was smiling when she did it. "Asshole."

Still, Deb's words stuck with him during his turkey sandwich without mayo, and when he drove Justin home, and when - well, after - they fucked on the rug in front of the TV.

It was a good present, he reasoned. Practical. It was something Justin wanted, that would probably help him with his work.

They went out to Babylon, and he forgot all about it until he came inside Justin's mouth in the back room.

Yanking Justin up for a kiss, he breathed into his mouth, "I'm not getting you a hustler."

Justin looked at him like he was straight or something. "What?"

"I'm not getting you a hustler for your birthday."

Staring at him for a while, Justin eventually touched him on the shoulder and said, "Okay," before those warm, moist lips moved back for another kiss.

*

Deb had insisted on hosting a dinner, so on Justin's birthday Brian picked him up from work and drove straight to Deb's. It was packed, of course, with all of the usual gang as well as Daphne and Jennifer, and there was no way they were all going to fit around the table.

No one minded and Justin ended up practically sitting in Brian's lap, so things could have been worse.

When the birthday boy disappeared to take a piss, Linds crept up to Brian.

"So what did you get him this year?" she asked. "I hope it's something a little more..." her lips twitched, "appropriate."

"Maybe it's two hustlers for the price of one," Mel taunted loudly, and Brian could have sworn she hadn't been there just a minute ago, but then Death had a way of sneaking up on you when you least expected it.

"Melanie," Brian said, sneaking his son's hand out of her gnarled grasp, "always a joy." Gus bounced, laughed and attempted a word that sounded like 'fishnew', generally making more sense than his mother.

Fifteen minutes later he was dubiously eyeing the contents of the fluorescent orange punch bowl when Mikey sidled up to him.

"What did you get him?" Mikey whispered, trying to be subtle and being about as effective as Brian was when he wrapped presents.

"Get who?" Brian asked deliberately, filling a cup and deciding he'd get Justin to try it first.

"Justin," Mikey pointed out. "I hope it's not another hustler."

This was getting so old. "Does anyone really think I'm going to do that again?" Brian asked, shaking his head and smirking. "Everyone knows I don't do repeats. Besides, what do you care? You're not exactly his biggest fan."

Mikey glanced away. "Maybe not, but even I think the hustler thing was pretty sucky-"

"And he was really good at sucking," Brian offered helpfully.

Pausing, Mikey smiled before chuckling briefly. "I just want you to be happy, that's all. And if that means Justin has to stick around, then I want to make sure he sticks around. Besides, he's not that bad when you get to know him."

Things were all getting a bit too *lesbian*. "Relax," Brian told him, slinging his free arm around Mikey's shoulder. "No hustlers were hired in the making of his present."

Snorting, Mikey playfully shoved him away before trotting off towards his beloved professor. Brian was pondering making retching noises when a hand grabbed his ass.

"Vic," he warned, "I've told you not to do that in front of the others."

"Ass," Justin laughed, turning him around for a kiss.

"I got you a drink," Brian declared eventually, holding out the plastic cup. "Here."

Justin arched his eyebrows. "How sweet. It's orange. What's in it?"

Brian shoved it towards him. "No idea. Taste it and tell me."

Gamely taking the cup from him, Justin took a swig and then his free hand was on the back of Brian's neck, tugging him down for a big, open-mouthed, very wet kiss.

The punch passed between them but Brian swallowed and forgot about it after a while because Justin was sucking on his tongue.

"Mmm," Justin said into Brian's face when he broke away for air, "Brian tongue. *Every* drink should have Brian tongue."

Brian's cock definitely liked that idea, but its plans were interrupted by Deb who could screech like no one else.

"*Je*-sus. Come on, you two. Stop that before you end up getting spunk in the punch bowl. It's time for Sunshine's presents!"

Laughing quietly into Brian's neck, Justin whispered, "She's so classy," but moved away to sit next to his mother like the good boy he was as everyone tried to ignore his hard-on.

Apart from Daphne, who was grinning like an idiot.

*

Justin loved his present, just like Brian knew he would. Everyone else almost seemed disappointed, but Justin jumped him and frenched him and made Brian want to leave even sooner than he'd already intended.

By the time they made it back to the loft, carting around birthday presents in a gigantic plastic bag, Justin had a hand down Brian's pants and his tongue in his mouth.

Stumbling around, Brian managed to put the bag on some kind of flat surface *somewhere* and fucked Justin up against the fridge.

"Bed," Justin murmured some time later, pawing at Brian aimlessly.

"Not yet," Brian replied, trying not to groan as he got to his feet and dragged Justin towards the sofa.

When they got there Justin paused and blinked, taking in the sights on the table. "Beer. Snacks. Cigarettes. Condoms. Lube."

"All the essentials," Brian said, turning on the TV and grabbing the remote. "C'mere." Grabbing Justin's wrist, he tugged him down on the sofa and pressed play.

"What are we watching?" Justin asked, snuggling against him.

Brian decided to let him get away with it. "A movie."

It started then. The dreaded, hated, 'I am not watching this *again*' opening sequence of the worst movie ever made.

"Huh," Justin said. "You hate this movie."

"Yeah," Brian replied, eyeing the beer longingly. "It sucks."

There was movement then and Brian might have been kissed on the shoulder, but he wasn't sure and he didn't ask.

~FINIS

The movie.

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