QAF Ficlet

Everyone's had a very tough past couple of weeks, so here's a little bit of fluffy ficlet to hopefully ease the pain. Enjoy!

QAF Ficlet-
Title: Magnetic
Spoilers: Early S4
Warnings: None.
Summary: Domesticity in the Kinney kitchen.
Disclaimer: All characters are property of Cowlip, no matter how I contort them. This was originally a fic for hermionemalfoy, who found this loffly icon and wanted a fic for it. The icon belongs to mojokid *facepalms*, who is also responsible for the quick beta job. Eternal thanks go to her.





The only thought that kept Brian from strangling anyone at the office throughout the day was the knowledge that Justin would be waiting for him back at the loft and his frustrations could be taken out on a willing, sweet ass. Well, that and the thought that his professional record really couldn’t handle another scandal involving the police and alleged crimes.

Clients had been breathing down his neck all day (not in that positive, life-affirming way), demanding special projects or changes before impossible deadlines. Added to that was the continuous stream of calls from potential clients and odd “family calls,” which mostly consisted of Mikey fretting over something Ben and he fought about, Emmett asking how to get stains out of white leather, and Melanie bitching at him for . . . well, he didn’t exactly know what she was bitching about because he had refused to take that call.

By the end of the drawn-out, hectic day, Brian wanted to do nothing more than to curl up in bed with his former-twink-turned-man . . . and by curl, he didn’t mean any of that monogamous, cuddling shit. No, he meant the type of curling that involved several different positions and orgasms. A smirk formed on his face as he slid the loft door open, images flooding his mind.

Instead of the blissful, phone-and-client-free silence he anticipated, however, Brian was greeted with the sound of giggling. To his knowledge, Justin did not giggle. He cackled, scoffed, chuckled, laughed, and nearly even squealed with excitement at times, but he never giggled. Brian frowned.

A cursory glance around the loft showed nothing out of order, but Brian still felt that foreboding feeling that he and Justin would not be alone for the rest of the night. Another giggle rose, this time he could pin it as coming from the kitchen area, and he nearly hoped that Justin had invited a young teenage girl or munchkin (so it may be prejudiced of him, but those were the only things he could associate giggling with) for an orgy because at least then he could kick the third party out of the loft. If it wasn’t one of the above options, however, it was someone he couldn’t just shove out the door, someone like-

“Gus! You did it! Say it with me, cat,” Justin prompted.

The little voice paused and made some hesitant starts on the “c” before repeating back, “Cat.” Brian edged around the kitchen counter so that he had a view of the two boys. Justin sat on the floor with Gus propped up happily in his lap, facing the refrigerator. On the chrome refrigerator, a Technicolor monstrosity was scattered and staring at him unrelentingly in its magnetic, plastic glory. He blinked a few times and took a step closer to be sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

No, no. There was definitely an entire alphabet sticking to his fridge in bright, rainbow colors. Gus, who had been fingering the “C” where the word “cat” was spelled out on the metal, now turned around and smiled while lightly saying, “Dada!” Justin turned around to follow Gus’ attention and grinned. He raised his eyebrows and teased, “Dada!” as Gus scampered out of his lap to reach for Brian.

Brian dropped his briefcase and coat on the stool to his left and bent to scoop Gus off the ground. As the boy hugged him, Brian looked to Justin and whispered, “Why is Sonny Boy here and when is he going back home?”

Justin dusted off the back of his jeans as he stood up. Brian noted the deliberate attention to the blond’s ass . . . as if the floor of Brian’s loft could ever have dirt present to dust off. Justin then spun around to Brian and kissed him on the lips. After a relatively chaste kiss, he pulled back a few inches and explained, “Mel and Linds had another prenatal checkup and no one was available. They should be back in a few minutes. You don’t mind, do you?”

Brian gritted his teeth at Justin’s knowing smile. Gus interrupted before Brian could break the “no unsavory language in front of the little one” rule that Lindsay had installed. Gus patted both Justin and Brian’s faces and said with all the seriousness that a three year-old can muster, “Kitty-cat.” Brian groaned and set Gus back down on the ground.

“Oh, Sunshine,” Brian bit out, narrowing his eyes at Justin, “I thought you agreed to stop filling the child’s head with this cat nonsense.”

Justin held up his hands in innocence. “I don’t know where he got the idea from.”

“We aren’t having a ball of fur with claws in the house. He wants a cat, he can go to the munchers for one. It’d be a nice, lezzie thing for them to have, a pussy for the puss-”

Justin coughed rather loudly and vigorously. “Brian!”

Brian eyed him for a second, and the significant glance in Gus’ direction, and then ditched his previous train of thought. Deciding that his plans for relaxation were shot to hell, he took a few steps forward so that he could see the colorful letters on the refrigerator closer.

“Where did we get these?” Brian demanded.

Justin beamed at the casual use of the word “we” and answered, “Lindsay’s letting us borrow them. They’ve kept Gus entertained for hours.”

Brian nodded. “You’ve been teaching him to spell?”

Justin said, “Well, sort of. He still can’t really read them, but I help him make a word and then give him the syllables until he can say it. Then he moves the letters all around as a reward.”

Gus demonstrated his reward by taking a hideously green “G” and scraping it across the metallic surface, effectively scattering all letters in its path. The boy giggled and toddled between feet with delight. Brian’s eyes raked over the words that had survived. Among them, he could find random ones like “clock,” but there were also “cat,” “dish,” “purr,” and something that could’ve been “kitten” if Brian were choosing to accept the theme on the lower portion of his fridge surface, which he wasn’t.

One more phrase caught Brian’s eye, this one much higher than the others and clearly untouched. He pointed to it and arched an eyebrow in Justin’s direction. In a contrasting, Trix-worthy scheme of colors was the clear message, “Brian loves Justin.”

Justin toyed with his right ear nervously and avoided Brian’s gaze, saying, “Gus is still having problems with his ‘L.’”

“Mm-hmm,” Brian huffed.

He tugged Justin toward him and hissed, “You’ll pay for that one later, honey.” Justin nearly shivered in anticipation and leaned in for another kiss, this one hungrier and more satisfying than the last. They were interrupted by a noise outside the loft entrance.

The door to the loft slid open suddenly and Lindsay barged in with a flurry of “thank you”s and blond hair. She looked at where Brian stood, the message beside him, and cooed, “Oh, that’s just so sweet, Brian.”

He glared at her.

Gus tugged at Lindsay’s hand until she was bent to his level and he pointed at the fridge. He said softly, “Mama. Cat!”

Lindsay shook her head and protested, “Dada. I think Dada might get you a cat. Wouldn’t you like that? A nice, little kitty?”

Brian felt the situation called for more than a glare, but he was too exhausted from work to do anything extreme. He instead made a mental note to double-check the animal policy of his building. If there wasn’t a no-pets policy in place now, there’d fucking well be one tomorrow. Justin had been gathering Gus’ toys from around the loft and now handed a bag full of them to Lindsay. She gratefully accepted the bag and said, “Thanks for doing this, you two. I know you probably had more . . . exciting . . . things to be doing.” She quirked her eyebrows up and down with the last phrase.

Brian nodded in agreement and ushered her and his son out the loft door. Before they left, he placed a kiss on Gus’ forehead and ruffled the kid’s hair. Gus smiled to himself and buried his face into Lindsay’s soft sweater. Soon, the two were off and Brian and Justin were alone in the silent loft, the way he had originally intended it to be. Brian wrapped his arms around Justin and just held him in silence for a minute, the both of them staring at the magnetic letters that had been forgotten in the rush out of the loft. Justin sighed into Brian’s comforting arms and slipped his own hands behind them to run up and down Brian’s back in soothing strokes. He mumbled, “A hard day at work?”

Instead of responding, Brian let go of Justin and rearranged some of the letters, destroying “clock”, “dish”, and the Other Phrase. There were apparently no apostrophes in the alphabet set, but this did not deter Brian. His refrigerator now read, “Justin loves Brians cock.” Justin rolled his eyes.

Brian’s eyes, however, lit with amusement and he proceeded to tug Justin toward the bedroom.

~End.