Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

As they strolled through an area cluttered with game stations, the kids' noticeably went into sensory overload. The colors, the lights, the bells, the prizes. Layla and Gus were bouncing fervently and pointing to everything and nothing in particular all at once.

"Oooh win me that one daddy!" Gus squealed as he gestured to a fluffy bear adorned with a Hershey's kiss shaped hat. "He's got a funny hat!" he giggled.

Brian shot Justin a grin and reached out to playfully tap the top of his hat. "I see that Sonny boy. He must go shopping with Mr. Justin."

His words passed over his son's head but were not lost on the blond who was currently sticking his tongue out at him. That scrumptious lure extracted a involuntary groan from Brian.

"Save that for later Sunshine." he whispered, watching pink kiss those insipid cheeks. 'Twat.'

"Let's go get you that bear." he said walking up to a western themed game booth, 'Shootout Showdown'.

"Can you win me one Mr. Justin?" he couldn't resist Layla's adorable pleads, he nodded. "I want that pretty pink one!"

Brian was beginning to think this was sounding very much like a challenge.

He raised his eyebrow to his 'opponent'. "First one to get the bear gets a (he glanced down at the four innocent ears currently listening intently) Hug." He declared.

Justin simply answered with one of those goddamn 'lesbionic knee weakening' smiles.

This little shit wasn't going to be playing fair.

The mock cowboy greeted them, "Howdy! Saddle on up to a stool partners."

Partners. Even out of context that word made Brian shudder, unless of course it was following the words 'Fuck'or 'Dance'

"One dollar. Three shots!" He said motioning towards the guns in front of them.

Brian placed two dollars on the counter and glanced at the man beside him.

He had those slender hands of his wrapped with acute carefulness around the gun. God. Brian wanted to feel the caress of those fingers coiled around his own 'weapon of choice.'

He removed his focus from his intended target and flashed his eyes towards Brian with apparent smugness. He softly licked those juicy lips.

No. Definitely not going to be playing fair.

Brian turned up his own smug demeanor. "I'm anxious for my Hug. How's your aim Teach?"

Before he could process what the hell had happened, the Buckaroo imposter was handing a pink bear to Layla.

Justin placed his gun back in it's holster and gave a high five to Gus's waiting hand.

"That was so cool!" He exclaimed "You should be a cowboy Mr. Justin. You know, only if you still stay being my teacher."

Justin smiled and sent the child a nod.

"Your turn daddy," Gus turned to look at Layla "I'm getting a bear too." he stated firmly.

Brian projected every ounce of his concentration onto the task at hand. There was no way he was going to fail in front of this audience. OK, apparently there was a way.

"I was distracted." He explained to his son's expression or disappointment.

He swiveled on his stool so that he was facing Justin.

"What can I say Sunshine? I only excel at shooting one thing, and it ain't bullets." his tongue instinctively slid to the inside of his cheek.

He gave the cowboy another dollar. He missed another three shots.

Fuck. He didn't even glance back to see the smiles that undoubtedly accompanied the small chorus of chuckles behind him.

He pulled a five from his wallet and slammed it down with immense determination…

Eleven dollars later, Justin approached him.

He tensed. Brian-fucking-Kinney doesn't do embarrassment. If he did, which he doesn't, he wasn't doing it now.

The blond took the gun from his hands. Effortlessly, he shot the target in one. He offered Brian the 'Silly hat wearin' bear' and a sly smile.

"We've got to go James Dean, or we're gonna miss lunch."

Brian took the bear in defeat.

"I'll be expecting my Hug momentarily." Justin added. Shit. He hadn't meant to say that.

'Picture of Professionalism' was rapidly becoming 'Picture of I should win a fucking medal for making it until lunch'.

Wordlessly, Brian handed the offending stuffed toy to his now, restless and hungry child.

"You better hold onto to that Sonny boy. It's the most expensive bear in all of Pennsylvania."

Gus's eyes widened and he visibly perked up. "Really? Wow. How much did it cost?" he inquired.

"All of daddy's dignity." he told him.

Gus was confused by his father's response but was still excited about his prize. He didn't know how much dignity cost, but decided that he was going to put the bear in his Special Box when he got home. Just to be safe.

Brian's mind was suffocating in disbelief. He closed his eyes briefly in hopes that he'd reopen them only to see the comforts of his loft. The horrific scene that had just played out was most certainly a fucking nightmare.

He looked at the three figures walking cheerfully ahead of him. He was in no hurry to catch up. He couldn't face Justin over a sit down lunch. He was none too eager to sit across from this man for the next hour, at some goddamn 'Picnic table of judgment'.

How had that truly happened? He was good at everything. No. damn it, he was going to prove himself to this man and his son before he took another step.

He stopped and looked around. When he saw the game he knew instantly it was the one.

"Mr. Taylor!" he called out. The teacher and his students turned and joined him.

"This," he motioned to the 'Test your strength' game in front of him "is what we're playing."

Justin looked at him questioningly, "What are we playing for?"

Brian pondered this for a moment. A wild kaleidoscope of possibilities encircled his brain. He shook them away. They had the kids, he had to keep it clean. Clean? Shower. Water.

His train of thought pulled into the station.

He explained the terms. "Loser rides the Tidal Force. Walks around soaked, Head (he gently pushed a rogue piece of blond hair from the man's forehead) to toe (he lightly tapped his shoe with his own)."

Justin shook his head a little and smirked, "You? You're going to get those (he gestured towards Brian with a wide sweep of his arms) fancy clothes soaking wet?"

By way of answer, the brunette picked up the game's mallet.

Channeling all of his defeat, embarrassment (fine), disbelief, aggravation, and overbearing unbearable sexual fucking tension, he swung.

Instantly, the bell at the top resounded loudly. To Brian it was the sound of reassurance. The sound of winning. The sound of control.

He dropped the mallet and met two very awestricken blue eyes, "After lunch Sunshine, I'm getting you wet."

He made a mental note to kiss this man directly after lunch.

 

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