Fandom: Queer as Folk US
POV: Justin (Pairing B/J)
Timeline: Somewhere after 5.13
Word Count: 1,920
Beta: My lovely mander3_swish - thank you :)
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
Banner made by galehot
Merry Christmas to everyone! This whole Christmas project based on the idea of our lovely Carmen galehot!
As always, every comment is welcome!
With a big house like ours, we barely had a choice in the mater: we had to do the Christmas party. We maybe could have avoided it if no one knew about the house, but after the big housewarming party we gave after I came back from New York last summer, the little secret wasn’t so secret anymore. We got several hints that with such a big house that had such a big kitchen and such a big living room – not to mention the magnificent dining room – our house would be the perfect place for a big, fat family Christmas party. Debbie’s house just couldn’t contain everyone anymore.
I don’t have to tell you that there was also the mentioning of some alcoholic drinks that could be had since our house also had some guestrooms so that people could stay overnight.
The thought of doing such a big event made me feel warm and familiar and my “Yes, we can do that” popped out of me a lot faster than Brian’s that for sure would have been a well thought out and plausible sounding answer that would’ve included a “no”.
He let me pay for it.
We couldn’t cancel it – but I didn’t want to – because Melanie and Lindsay agreed to come from Canada with the kids, and even though he didn’t admit it, Brian was very happy to have Gus home again. I even think he was excited for Christmas and maybe even for celebrating it with everyone here in our house. Unfortunately, he showed me his immense happiness with a seemingly unstoppable bitching about simply everything.
It started with the fact that I had put too much sugar in the Christmas cookies. I was really proud about my first completely homemade Christmas cookies I had created on my own, in my own kitchen, and without my mommy to help me.
“Want one?” I asked him.
He looked at me as if I had just offered him to poison himself for free. “No.”
“They’re are really good.”
“Have you ever seen me eat sugar?”
“No, I guess the two pounds of sugar you put into your coffee every morning disolves so it doesn’t count as EATable anymore.”
I couldn’t get him to even touch sugar, let alone to eat in cookie form, and so I ordered him to go buy a Christmas tree…
“A Christmas tree.”
I still hoped that was supposed to be a joke, because…
“It looks good.”
“It looks dead!” I disagreed. “Where the fuck did you get that? At the graveyard of last year’s Christmas trees?”
He also didn’t want to help me decorate the house, nor to prepare the guest rooms. Instead, he practically lived at the office - he came home very late and left early - and when I asked him about that he just said it had been my idea to invite everyone over and so all the preparations were my responsibility.
I’d hung some mistletoe that resulted in the next ‘great’ Kinney moment. The day after it was up, it brushed against his head as he walked through the door frame it was hanging from. The jerk just ripped it off and threw it away.
I tried my best to breathe some life into that dead tree so I tried to decorate it with a lot of colors and pretty things. There wasn’t enough time to buy another one and I still had a lot of stuff to do.
And I still had some hope for the tree. “What do you think?”
“It could walk at Pride next year, fits perfectly.”
Not a single nice word, nothing. He bought that fucking tree (which had been a waste of money) and so forced me to try to get the best out of it. I didn’t even expect any help from him, but his endless criticism was fucking annoying, and fuck, I should have just let him choke on his anti-Christmas-ego!
“That’s enough!” I threw the decoration that Debbie had given to me back into the box and threw my arms up. I was very dramatic and I was angry and hurt, too. Okay, the “Yes” had popped out of me without asking him, but how was that a reason to treat me like that and to be in such a bad mood since then? It was just one fucking day, he would survive it! “You know what? Cancel the diner, cancel the party, throw the cookies away and bury the tree. He’s dead already! And then you can entrench yourself and cure your Christmas blues. I’m gone!”
He didn’t see that coming – at least that’s what I read in his look. “What the…? Where would you go?”
“I would to, here and now?” But I wasn’t in a funny mood and the way I acted made that obvious to him because he put his desperate sarcasm aside immediately. “Justin there’s sheets of ice on the streets,” he called after me as I escaped from the house.
I admit, I hadn’t thought about that. I was only wearing my sweatpants and a shirt and it was fucking freezing outside. Yes, the streets weren’t that easy to drive on, but I was able to play as stubborn as he was and one hour later I arrived at my mother’s house.
I’m not completely insane. My mother would be at the house the next day, too, and I would just come back with her, but that was nothing Brian needed to know.
My cell phone rang and rang and rang. I turned off the music and it just vibrated. I told my mother what had happened, and what can I say? On Mom’s couch with her cookies and a hot chocolate … it was a nice night.
My mother wasn’t as certain as I was about my idea to ignore Brian. “What’s he going to do? Except for calling you all the time of course.”
“We will see tomorrow evening.”
He really called me very often, and I almost felt sorry for him. Shortly after 2 AM, I got a text message: Please tell me that you’re not lying somewhere in a ditch.
And so I answered: I don’t lie anywhere in a ditch.
Where are you?
Nice try. I didn’t answer him anymore. That was hard, really. Because if there was something Brian Kinney was really good at, it was suffering, and I could see him right in front of me, beside the pride-tree, the half-done decorated house, the half-finished guest rooms. And I knew he wouldn’t cancel the dinner. Not that I didn’t trust him to do it, but if he did he would have to take the responsibility for it and everyone would blame him fort at and they would feel sorry for me And even though he had a touch for masochism, it wasn’t that big.
At 7 AM I got another text message: Please call me.
I also had two messages on my mailbox from him that said the same: “Where are you? Please call me.”
Breakfast done by Mom was nice, too. Tucker and Molly discussed Wrangler vs. Diesel and I watched my cell phone. It didn’t stop vibrating.
Mom shook her head. “I’m starting to feel sorry for him.”
“It won’t kill him.”
When the phone vibrated again, she sighed. “Just talk to him.”
Okay, I had been very strong even though I hadn’t slept much, and I was really proud of myself, so why not? I took my phone and went up to the guest room, which used to be my room - for all of a week.
My mood wasn’t good enough for a Good morning yet. “What?”
“Where are you?”
“On the phone.” I was good.
“When are you coming home?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lindsay called. They will be here in three hours. They’re all excited to see you.”
What was I supposed to say? As I said, I knew when I would be back home, but he didn’t and I didn’t want to let him off so fast. So I didn’t answer. As long as he didn't apologize or would not meet me half way somehow, I wouldn’t do it either. It was somehow funny. Debbie would go earlier to cook the dinner and she would end up jumping all over him about this; she was so much better with that than I was.
“If I eat the cookies, would you come back home?”
What? I almost laughed out loud. “Good bye Brian.”
“And if I get a new tree? A big and green one. A tree that’s still alive!”
Wow, I was impressed, really. And I was happy, very happy. But I didn’t say anything.
“I can also put the mistletoe up again.”
I had no idea what he was more scared about, Debbie or me being really pissed.
“Come on, please.” He sounded desperate.
“Good bye Brian.”
“Don’t hang u…”
I hung up and decided to wait another hour to give him a little time to do all of the preparations he promised before I would drive back home. It was Christmas, and wherever he wanted to buy another tree, he would have to pay way too much money for it, especially for a really good tree.
An hour and fifteen minutes later I was back home, and as soon as I was out of the car Brian opened the door and stared at me. He looked terrible, as if he didn’t get much sleep last night.
But discipline was necessary! And so I just said “Hey” and walked into the house. No touches, no kiss, nothing. I knew he was waiting for it.
And then I just stood there, in the house, which was completely decorated. It even smelled like Christmas.
I looked at him. “Did you… bake?”
He cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed. “I thought we should have some cookies when Gus and Jenny arrive. And the book with the recipe was… lying there.”
Was I supposed to believe that he had ate all the cookies? And honestly, Brian baking Christmas cookies?
I went to the living room and there it was… big, healthy, and green. It wasn’t decorated yet, but it was absolutely no comparison to the poor old dead tree he brought me two days ago.
“Yeah, I thought maybe we wait until the kids are here. Maybe they want to decorate the tree. Most kids love to do that… I think.”
I turned around and saw him standing right under the mistletoe, which he put in the middle of the room on the ceiling.
He shrugged. “I thought this is the best place to make sure that everybody gets a chance for a kiss.”
“What happened to you last night?”
“Too much sugar.”
I laughed and walked over to him to kiss him. I mean, he was standing under the mistletoe, and he deserved a little love. And fuck, the man was good. How the fuck did he do all of that?
“Thank you,“ I said.
“Can we please leave town next Christmas? Just the two of us, far far away from here?“
I nodded. “Whatever you want.”
He kissed me again and his hands were everywhere on me.
“Mel and Linds are on their way, we don’t have time,” I mumbled onto his lips.
“You never complain that I’m not fast enough.”
Well, after all, he had created a beautiful Christmas spirit in the house…