Round 1 Story Title: Thin Skin
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own these boys. This is what I'd do with them if I did, but I don't get a dime.
Summary: Justin is sick and worried about how Brian will treat him.
Bunny: #77

Justin's hand hovered over the phone. He could imagine the dial tone and his fingers pressing the keys to the number he knew by heart. He could imagine the familiar voice and the comfort that alone would give. But as quickly as he could imagine it, he quickly withdrew his hand. Calling his mother for help is just something he couldn't do. He didn't go through all that emotion distress when leaving home just to crawl back to it when he had a little sniffle. He wasn't some pathetic crybaby who couldn't deal with this.

Brian breezed in through the door a moment later, and Justin jumped back from the phone, as if Brian might be able to figure out just what he'd been about to do. He knocked over a chair; the sound of wood against hardwood floors echoed through the loft. Brian grimaced. "After you're done ruining my furniture, get dressed."

Rubbing his nose when Brian wasn't looking, Justin wore a perplexed expression. "But it's Monday night. You're going out on a Monday night?"

Brian drank from a bottle of water in the fridge, and then he turned to Justin. "I'm not sure what the Hell you mean by that, but I'm going to Babylon. If you don't want to go, then don't go." He dropped the empty bottle beside the sink and strode off to his room to change out of his suit and into a much different sort of outfit.

Justin sat down on the couch with a sigh and another swipe at his nose. Brian inviting him to go out to Babylon was big. But all Justin felt like doing was lying down with a box of tissues and a heating pad. "h'Tishhh!" His nose ran and Justin held the back of his hand to it. There was a Kleenex box in the bathroom and there were napkins in the kitchen. The former would be kinder to his already hurting, tickling nose, but that would mean revealing his cold to Brian. And Justin was absolutely sure Brian wouldn't want him around if sick. So he opted for a napkin and blowing his nose quietly.

One minute later, he wished he hadn't. His nostrils hurt. His head hurt. His body hurt. Damn cold. Small enough not to knock him out completely but big enough so that he felt miserable.

"Hey, Justin? Justin!"

Feeling like a dog whose master had called him, and not really minding considering that master was Brian Kinney, Justin gave his nose a final rub and headed over to the bathroom.

Brian stood there, naked, body glistening after a shower. A stunning example of male beauty that would put Michelangelo's David to shame. Justin's eyes twinkled with desire. "Hand me that towel," Brian commanded, eyes flicking towards a towel on a rack that was easily within Brian's reach. Hungrily, Justin darted forward, grabbed the towel, and found himself pulled close, into Brian's arms.

"Thought you were going out," Justin murmured, closing his eyes as if wanting to capture this feeling, this moment, forever.

"I am," said Brian. "But I could use an appetizer first."

Justin frowned. "That's what I am, then? An appetizer?"

Brian's delightful, hot tongue lapped against his temple and the wet kiss made Justin tingle all over, even in his toes but especially in his crotch. Brian noticed this, and as blood rushed to Justin's cock, Brian's hand did as well. Those damp fingers played against the thin fabric of Justin's khakis. "Play your cards right and you just might get to be dessert as well."

With a smirk and his eyes still closed, "What about the main cuhh... course?" He worked hard to hold back an impending sneeze. His nostrils twitched. His breath caught. And the sneeze backed down.

"We'll see," Brian said, loosening Justin's tie and undoing the top button of Justin's shirt. "Depends how good you are."

And, suddenly, it occurred to Justin that if the sex was good—really, really fucking good—then maybe Brian wouldn't even go out. Maybe they'd just stay in all night and fuck. And Justin would get to stay in his bed and Brian would hold him all night. Justin's breath caught and he tried to keep that quiet, silent even.

But Brian pulled away anyway. "Damn it."

Justin opened his eyes, only to close then again involuntarily. "heh-Shihhh!" He sniffed and pressed the back of his hand to his nose again. "No, no, I'm all right. It's okay."

"Look, I've had sex a lot of ways, but I've got no interest in sniffly, snotty sex. Are you sick?"

Justin desperately wanted to lie. His dick alone told him to lie—in fact, it begged him to lie. But the rest of his body was against him. He coughed and Brian moved away, taking the towel with him. "Brian..." Justin frantically tried to figure out what to say to save the situation. But the only thing that came out was "ehh-Chihhh!" Uncovered. Unrestrained. Unsexy.

Brian made a face. "Ew. Yeah. You'd better stay home tonight," Brian advised with a tone that implied Justin had no choice in the matter.

Justin had been afraid of this. He took a tissue from the box and dried his nose before replying, hoping the sneezes and coughs would stay away. "Brian, would you stay with me? Please?"

Brian looked at him as if he were not only crazy and contagious but also possibly on fire. He turned his back on Justin and went to pick out something to wear.

Eyes prickling and nose running, Justin tried to look as though he weren't hurting at all.

"So what happened to Justin?" Michael asked loudly as he danced chest-to-chest against Brian. "Thought you were going to bring him along. C'mon. You can tell me. Did he finally fly the coop?" He sounded hopeful and slightly intoxicated.

Brian had been quiet on that subject tonight. He'd even changed the subject when Debbie had asked about Sunshine at Woody's. But Brian couldn't avoid it with Michael. He answered with a simple, "He wasn't feeling well. Decided it was best for him to stay home."

Michael frowned. It was no secret that the chicken who'd followed Brian home and now was trying to make that his permanent roost was not Michael's favorite person in the world. But sick was sick and not the kid's fault. "So you just left him in your loft?"

"He's a big boy. It's probably just a cold or something."

Michael stopped dancing and stepped back.

Brian sighed and laughed. "You think I should go home and take care of him as if he's my husband?"

Michael shook his head. "He's not your husband, but he is the guy living with you. He'd been through a lot. The last thing he needs is to be sick and alone while you're out having sex with random guys. I think you should go home to him. What if it's something more than a cold? What if you get home with some trick and find him dead?"

Brian nearly rolled his eyes. "He's not dead."

"You won't know until you get home. And I love you, Bri, and I might be Italian but I'm not going to help you get rid of a dead body."

Brian ordered another drink, but Michael's stare continued to penetrate him. Brian could handle a lot of things. He could handle anyone, including Michael, calling him insensitive and uncaring. In fact, he would be the first to call himself that. The problem was that this look in Michael's eyes showed that it wasn't true. Brian's fingers twitched against the glass as the bartender handed him a fresh drink.

He knew it shouldn't bother him. He wished it wouldn't bother him. But Michael kept staring. "Damn it." Brian slammed the drink down on the counter.

"Justin?" Brian pulled the sliding door closed behind him. "You still alive?" He'd meant it to be funny, but when he found Justin passed out, facedown on the couch, Brian didn't feel so clever. He squatted down and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, shaking. "Justin?"

Justin didn't move.

"Fuck. That's all I need tonight." He got out his cell phone immediately. He scrolled through his phone book towards Michael's name but stopped before he got there. He could just imagine what Michael would say to him now. The ‘I told you so' would be beyond painful. Plus he wasn't some pathetic crybaby who couldn't deal with this.

He pulled his other hand back from Justin's shoulder and his fingers accidentally brushed Justin's cheek. It was hot. So was his forehead. Hotter than normal. "Justin?" he shook the man again.

Brian's knees were starting to feel the strain of the squat, so he slid his arms under Justin and scooped the man up into his arms. He was unprepared for how heavy the sleeping man was, and very nearly dropped Justin back onto the couch. But he managed to get Justin from the couch to the bed.

As soon as Justin was laid out on the bed, however, his eyes slowly opened. They looked overbright, but perhaps that was just the lighting in the bedroom.

"Now you wake up. I should have figured." Brian sighed. Then, without wasting time, "What's wrong with you? You have a fever."

"Do I?" Just pressed his palm to his forehead, unable to tell how hot it was against his hot hand. He regarded Brian, glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and looked back at Brian again. "You came home." He blinked. "Why did you come home?"

"Damned if I know." Brian kissed Justin's forehead. "Your fucking nose is running."

Justin covered his nose ashamedly. His face flushed hot with fever and embarrassment. He turned away but Brian stuffed tissues into Justin's hand. "Thah... thanks. Heh-Chihh!" Justin rubbed his nose. "Brian?" The question was a confused whisper. Sniffling, "I thought you would want me to go."

"What? Just because you're sick?"

Justin nodded and coughed. "Well, before... the things you said... you made it seem..." Justin trailed off as Brian suddenly pressed against him from behind with arms and a leg wrapped around him.

Brian's arms were bare, strong, reassuring. He tightened his grip around Justin. "You need to develop a thicker skin." One of his hands slid under Justin's waistband and further down, to the heat of Justin's crotch.

Though sick, Justin's cock instinctively hardened against Brian's touch. Justin cleared his throat and then moaned happily, spreading his legs a little so that Brian's fingers could touch the sensitive parts that needed to be touched.

Brian heard Justin sniffle again, but as long as the kid's nose wasn't dripping on him, he didn't care. "Want to know something?" Then, without waiting for an answer, "I thought I would want you to go, too." His fingers curled completely around Justin's cock. "But how would you like me to stay with you?" he asked, as if it had been his idea all along.

"ehhh-Ihchhh! Ehh-Chihh!" Then he moaned. "Please..."

Brian pulled his hand out of Justin's shorts and reached for the tissues and lube.