Love Coupons by Tagsit
Summary:

Summary: Romance, Brian Kinney Style.


Categories: QAF US Characters: Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor
Tags: Valentine's Day
Genres: Could be Canon, Romance
Pairings: Brian/Justin
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 2490 Read: 1164 Published: Feb 12, 2018 Updated: Feb 12, 2018
Story Notes:

***For my Galentine - SandiD***

1. Chapter 1 by Tagsit

Chapter 1 by Tagsit
Author's Notes:

 

*Plot Bunny credit to charming1*

Love Coupons

By: Tagsit


*** ***** ***


Justin trudged home with dragging steps. He didn’t know why he was bothering. He probably should have stayed at Daphne’s. After the blow up he and Brian had the night before - the one that had caused him to storm out the door vowing never to come back - it seemed naive to think that there was anything to come back for. But Justin had always been a stubborn little shit, so here he was.


Justin pulled open the heavy metal door of the loft, peeking around the jamb to see if Brian was inside before entering. The coast looked clear. Justin sidled in and pulled the door closed behind him with a clang.


He didn’t know whether to be pleased or pissed off that Brian wasn’t around. Knowing Brian, after the fight they’d had, he’d probably spent the night out fucking everything with a dick he could get his hands on and hadn’t yet made it home afterwards. Because that’s what Brian Kinney did if you dared to even MENTION the idea of anything even vaguely romantic; he’d run away screaming and waving his dick at the next available hole. The fucking scared-as-shit little asshole.


Justin sighed as he hung his jacket up on the peg next to the door and dropped his messenger bag on the floor next to where he’d kicked off his shoes. Heaven forbid he mess up Brian’s loft. Yeah, it was pretty clear that Brian loved his loft more than anything else in his life, including the guy he’d been fucking for the past couple of years.


It’s not like Justin asked for much. He went along with all Brian’s rules without a peep. He put up with the man’s shitty mood swings and occasional funks without any complaints. He stood by Brian, a staunch supporter and ally, even when Brian’s other friends ragged on him or teased him. He’d never asked Brian for grand professions of love or, fuck forbid, something as drastic as exclusivity. He didn’t actually want Brian to change, at least not that much. All Justin had wanted was one, little, tiny, unremarkable, outward gesture acknowledging what he knew was already true - that Brian DID care for him and want him around.


Was that really too much to ask?


The answer to that, apparently, was yes.


Asking Brian to go out with him to dinner on Valentine’s Day was, seemingly, completely outrageous and unforgivable. Damn it, he hadn’t even asked Brian to treat. But the man was so fucking adamant about hating the entire CONCEPT of Valentine’s Day that he’d damn near blown a gasket when Justin had asked him about it. Was it really so impossible for the asshole to sit down at a meal - in public - with the man he was living with and enjoy some fucking pleasant conversation for one lousy night?


Justin shook his head. He should have known better. He DID know better, but he’d still hoped that Brian had mellowed enough after all this time that he would indulge this one itty-bitty request. It had been stupid of him to even bother.


Justin walked over to the kitchen and grabbed himself a bottle of water out of the fridge, wondering as he went what he was supposed to do now. Should he let it all slide; pretend like it hadn’t happened? Give Brian a pass for yet another instance of bad behavior? What was the alternative? Was this the straw that would break the camel’s back? Should Justin dig his heels in and insist on this - and if Brian continued to balk, as Justin knew he would, then what? Was he willing to leave Brian over something as petty as a refusal to go out to dinner with him?


No.


So, what the fuck did he do then?


While Justin was mulling over his regrettable lack of options, he’d slowly wandered around the kitchen island heading towards the bedroom, intending to change out of the rumpled clothes he’d been wearing since before he’d run out of the loft the day before. He hadn’t really been looking where he was going; his mind was so caught up in the hamster-wheel of his thoughts, that he wasn’t paying attention to anything else. But, when his eyes came across the small red gift bag sitting in the middle of the floor at the bottom of the steps up to the bedroom, he froze in place.


Okay . . . this was surprising.


It was just a plain little red bag. Nothing ostentatious or fancy. But it definitely didn’t belong in Brian Kinney’s loft. Brian didn’t do red gift bags. He didn’t do gifts, per se, at all. So what the hell was going on here.


He bent down and cautiously picked the thing up, almost afraid to touch it for fear it was some kind of trick. Justin thought it was probably safe enough, though, to open the attached gift card threaded through the handle.


‘Open me, Twat’, it read, in Brian’s neat and controlled handwriting.


Curiouser and curiouser.


Justin pulled open the bag and looked inside. There was a wad of red tissue paper on top, which he simply pulled out and threw to the floor. Below the tissues, though, neatly laid flat on the bottom of the bag, was a small, oblong stack of what looked like printed cards, all tied together with a piece of red ribbon. Justin looked back at the gift card on the outside again, just to confirm that it really had been written by Brian, because this was so out of character for him it defied imagination. Brian Kinney did not do gifts, let alone gifts carefully wrapped in small red gift bags, red tissue paper, and tied with red ribbon. Although, why anyone would break into the loft and leave Justin a present pretending to be from Brian was equally incomprehensible. Unless it was a trap of some kind.


Very gingerly, Justin pulled the ribbon-wrapped stack out of the bag and scanned them. They appeared to be a series of personalized ‘Coupons’, similar to the kind you’d clip out of a newspaper and take to the store to get a discount on toilet paper or toothpaste, only far more resplendent. The elegant little cards in this bag were printed on heavy black cardstock paper, backed with a border of white and red and printed in glossy white and red lettering. They looked classy with the red, white and black coloring - very much to Brian Kinney’s taste. But since when did Brian approve of anything as mushy and sentimental as this?


Once Justin started to read through the cards, though, he realized that he had been wrong. This was very much the type of ‘gift’ the egocentric Asshole Kinney would give. Because of course Brian would give coupons touting his own, personal, sexual prowess.


Take the first coupon in the stack for instance:



Like Justin needed a fucking coupon to ‘allow’ him to give Brian a blow job. Justin huffed angrily at the idea. Fuck Brian! If the ass thought he’d ever get another blow job from Justin after that, he had another thing coming. The nerve of the guy.


The next coupon was worse though:



Yeah, what a fucking honor - to be fucked up the ass by Brian Kinney. It’s not like half the city of Pittsburgh hadn’t already experienced that dubious pleasure. And adding at the bottom, ‘No thanks necessary afterwards’? Well, there was no doubt that Brian’s ego was healthy and thriving. But Justin thought he’d pass on the benefits of this coupon as well. Brian could go fuck himself for all Justin cared.


He almost didn’t bother going through the rest of the coupons that made up his ‘gift’. What was the point? They were most likely more of the same; self-aggrandizing drivel that would only serve to make him even more angry at Brian. But what the fuck. If he was going to be righteously angry at the asshole, Justin might as well do it up right. It would give him more ammunition so he could later throw it all back in Brian’s face when the man finally did get his ass home.


Justin wasn’t disappointed by the next couple of coupons either. Brian’s offer to let him pick the object of their next threesome was laughable since he already knew they had pretty much the same taste. And it wasn’t like Justin hadn’t been fucked by Brian in public so often in the past that everyone in town hadn’t already got an eyeful of his ass on display. How fucking romantic.



Even the coupon offering to fuck Justin in the shower was redundant since that was pretty much their regular morning routine every single day of the week. If Brian thought he was being cute or endearing by the quip about cleansing him inside and out, he wasn’t. Although Justin did like it when, after the fucking was over, Brian always took time to gently clean his partner off and tenderly shampoo Justin’s hair. That was nice and one of the most special moments the two of them shared. It meant they always started their days off together and it was one of the things that Justin had always known that Brian reserved just for him and no one else. He didn’t need a fucking coupon to get it though.




The next coupon, though, left Justin wondering. Brian offering a ‘Night on the Town’ might mean anything from just another night in the backroom at Babylon to something more like what Justin had been asking for - dinner out. Hmmm. That got Justin thinking for a minute. Then he read the fine print about Brian getting to be the one who determined what constituted being too drunk or stoned, and that ruined the whole thing. Because of course Brian couldn’t bear to spend a whole evening with Justin without getting drunk or high. Fucker.


He flipped to the next coupon.


‘Love slave for a Day’? Really? That was interesting. Had Brian Kinney actually used the term ‘LOVE slave’? Not ‘SEX slave’? The man must have been slipping. Maybe he made these things up late at night or after he’d already gotten high and just didn’t notice he’d used a forbidden word like ‘love’. Now, if Brian had offered to be the slave, Justin would have known he’d completely lost it.



The next coupon surprised Justin though. Brian offering to give him a body massage? He’d never offered that before. Justin was the only one who’d ever initiated anything remotely like a massage. To be on the receiving end of a body massage from Brian seemed like his idea of heaven. Even if it did, inevitably turn into sex in the end - Justin’s end - it’s not like Justin would object to that eventuality. And the thought of Brian going out of his way to do something that nice was . . . intriguing. Justin might actually hold on to this particular coupon. He’d still be yelling at Brian first, though, before taking advantage of his massage offering.


That left only one more Coupon in the bunch. Justin expected more of the same, of course. What was left; the right to rim Brian in public, the right to be tied up and spanked, the right to have unspeakable things done to him with some kinky toy, the right to be otherwise publicly humiliated in some other way . . . Who knew? Brian’s imagination was pretty much unlimited when it came to self-gratification. Justin could only guess at what other things Brian had planned for how Justin could pleasure him as part of this ‘present’. Nothing would surprise him.


Nothing, that is, except the offer he found spelled out on the last Coupon.



This Coupon Entitles Bearer to: Top Brian Kinney.


Justin had to read it over at least three times before he believed what he was seeing.


It’s not like he’d never done it. Brian HAD let him top . . . twice . . . both of which times had been the result of extraordinary circumstances and were followed by repeated assurances from Brian that it would NEVER happen again.


But this . . .


Justin read the Coupon over one more time, laughing to himself at the fine print detailing all the limitations to the offer. Like he’d ever dare to tell anyone that the great Brian Kinney let a twink top him or do it in public or, for fuck’s sake, video tape the experience . . . although that did sound . . . No, Justin would never do that to him.


And then, there at the very bottom, in the smallest print of all, Justin read the last line, ‘And don’t get any ideas about next Valentine’s Day either, you Twat!’.


Brian Kinney had basically just wished him Happy Valentine’s Day, albeit in a very Kinney-ish way.


Damn.


The man was a fucking a surprise. Even when Justin thought he knew him, he could still take Justin’s breath away. With just one little piece of paper.


Now, where the fuck was he? Justin wanted to redeem THIS coupon right away. Looking at the clock he realized it was already after noon on February 14th, so he had less than twelve hours before this offer expired, and he was damn certain that Brian would vigorously enforce that particular limiting term. There was no time to lose.


Justin dropped the empty bag, holding on to his stack of Coupons with a steel-vice grip, and started up the bedroom stairs. His intent was to get changed so he could head out and track down his errant gift giver. He only made it two steps into the room, though, before he noticed that his search was already over.


Lying there on the bed, naked, face down on the pillows, his legs spread out in welcome, was the very man Justin was looking for. There was even a huge red bow perched on the top of Brian’s shapely ass. A brand new bottle of Justin’s favorite lube was lying on the mattress next to Brian. It was all very inviting. Romantic even.


“It’s about time you got your ass up here,” Brian growled as soon as he saw Justin standing there in the doorway. “I was beginning to think you were going to chicken out on me or something. And my gonads are just about to freeze off, it’s so fucking cold in here; couldn’t this fucking holiday be in summer or something so it was warmer out?”


Justin broke out laughing at his big, grouchy Valentine.


Then he started tugging off his clothing as fast as he possibly could, because he didn’t want to waste even a second before taking advantage of THIS ‘Limited Time Offer’.


Happy VD from Brian and Justin!

This story archived at http://www.kinnetikdreams.com/viewstory.php?sid=1232