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Not Just Another Black Shirt

Sorry for the spammage, I hadn't re-posted this at my journal yet.

Title: Not Just Another Black Shirt
A/N: Written for highd for the [info]qaf_giftxchnge. The request was for late Season 1, before prom. Focus on Brian and Justin and the newness of their relationship. Fairly G-rated.
Beta: [info]noteverything. Thank you!


Rolling open the door to the loft, I stopped short in the doorway. Justin.

Every light in the place was on. As I stepped inside, I took in the dirty saucepan in the sink, the dirty dishes on the counter and some sort of fluorescent orange powdery shit on the normally pristine stovetop. I felt annoyance start to bubble up out of my chest and saw no reason to quell it. I spun around, looking for the culprit.

He sat frozen still, staring back at me from the center of a huge mess of papers scattered about the floor. Just as the bubbling annoyance was about to erupt into something more, the bane of my existence spoke.

"I got a call for an interview at PIFA on Monday. I have to bring in a portfolio of my work. I don't have a portfolio. I just have all these sketches. And random projects from art classes at school. I only had to send in slides with my application, and that was mostly my work from last year. They want to see my recent work. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't even know why I'm doing this. Its not like my Dad is going to let me go anywhere other than Dartmouth. What should I put in it? How many pieces should I put in it? Does it need to be in a physical portfolio? How am I going to buy one? How am I going to get this done in three days? How am I going to get from school to an interview at four o'clock?" It all came out as sort of one big run-on sentence, his voice getting higher as he went and his eyes wider.

I let out a slow breath, the anger starting to sink back inside. "Take it easy Drama Princess. This is hardly a crisis. Just bring in that sketch you drew of my dick. You'll be a shoe-in."

"Brian! This is serious."

He sounded a tiny bit on the hysterical side now. I rolled my eyes. Clearly humor wasn't the right approach. A trace of annoyance still lingered in the background, and I could still hear a hint of it in my voice when I spoke, but the lad was far too worked up to notice. "First, let’s collect this shit off the floor,"

"Its not..."

"...then tomorrow I'll take you go get a fucking portfolio to put your work in. You can work it off in trade tonight."

He flashed me a cheeky grin.

"By cleaning every inch of my kitchen."

The grin quickly faded to a frown.

"But you have a maid."

"Who is very well paid to clean up after me. Not rude little shits like you."

"I've looked at portfolios for people we've hired in the art department before," I continued. "Between my knowledge, the powers of the internet and Lindsay, I'm sure we can figure this out. Now pick this shit up and then clean up my fucking kitchen."

He just stared at me for a moment, and then calmly went about collecting the sketches from the floor. By the time he had them stacked he was actually sort of smiling. By the time he finished wiping down the kitchen, he was actually grinning.

"What?"

"You so love me."

"The fuck I do. And now it's time for you to go. I have places to go. People to do." I walked into my room and started sorting through a multitude of black shirts looking for just the right one.

The grin disappeared.

As I buttoned up a tight black Armani, I watched him sling his bag over his shoulder and open the door. He paused and looked back at me.

"Brian?"

"Yes?"

"I really don't want to go to Dartmouth."

A pesky voice inside my head said, "I don't want you to either." Fortunately, it stayed there. Who knows what nonsense the boy would make of a sentiment like that. He was just too good of an artist to waste his talent, that's all.

"Don't worry. You aren't going to."

"I could go to Babylon with you."

He never gives up. I just shook my head, turned back to examine how the shirt looked in the mirror and watched the door roll shut behind him in the reflection. And he certainly never gave up that easily.

When I got to Babylon and saw the familiar blond head on the dance floor I was not at all surprised. And when I rolled over the next morning and saw it lying on the pillow next to mine, that wasn't too surprising either.

Comments

Jan. 28th, 2011 11:44 am (UTC)
Sorry for the spammage brian and justin are not spammage..

we know how relentless s1 justin can be..loved this.!!
Jan. 29th, 2011 02:58 pm (UTC)
I agree, they are not spammage! But I do wish I had something new to offer...

And thank you!
Jan. 29th, 2011 01:10 am (UTC)
they are so good together. balance each other.
Jan. 29th, 2011 02:58 pm (UTC)
I agree, obviously. :D
Jan. 29th, 2011 02:51 am (UTC)
Oh the ubiquitous Justin Taylor...
Love this. The last paragraph is perfection!
Jan. 29th, 2011 02:58 pm (UTC)
Thank you! :D
Mar. 12th, 2011 02:29 am (UTC)

Nike Shox Clearance

I'd adore to check out images as well Aby!! I in no way imagined to label the fridge. My cabinets are labeled, but not the fridge. Good plan!!Nike Shox Clearance