Banner courtesy Andy-Pig

Thanks to Hastings, Connie & Lois! You girls are the bestest betas ever!
To thank you, I'll get *Brian* to make spaghetti! tee hee

PEPTO BISMOL

"Justin?"

Justin looked up from the art project he was working on to see what his lover wanted. Brian had just woken up and was in the process of pulling on his favourite pair of black jeans, the ones that he paraded around the loft with - top button undone.

Less than a minute later, he was standing beside Justin's desk, a hand on his hip, the other scratching his bare stomach, a miserable expression fixed on his handsome face.

"What's wrong?" Justin immediately asked, dropping his pencil and pulling Brian closer so he could slip an arm around his boyfriend's slim waist. He pressed his chin into Brian's navel and tilted his head back to look up into hazel eyes.

"I'm hungry." Brian bent his head so his eyes were locked onto Justin's. "Do you feel like Italian?"

Justin shrugged. "Sounds good to me." He could eat anything really.

"Great. Go make us some."

Justin grinned. "Nice try, Stud. In case you haven't noticed, I'm busy."

Brian ran a hand through Justin's silky blonde hair. "But you make the best spaghetti and tomato sauce."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Flattery's not gonna work this time."

Brian grinned. "Don't say I didn't try. I'll call Luigi's."

"No, you won't."

Brian gave him a grin when he saw the pink tongue circling his navel. "I want lots of garlic, ok?"

Justin bit into the flesh surrounding Brian's navel gently before saying, "Then you'll chop up 'lots of garlic.' I'll tell you what to do so you won't screw it up."

Brian's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You expect ME to cook?"

Justin laughed at Brian's incredulous expression. "Don't make it sound as if I'm asking you to kill someone, Brian."

Brian snorted. "I'd choose that anyday. Look, forget about it. I'll order us something."

Justin held firmly onto Brian's butt cheeks so he wouldn't move away. With his free hand, he slowly started unbuttoning Brian's jeans and begain trailing soft kisses downward. Justin sucked on the taunt skin just above Brian's cock until he saw the splotch of colour. Looking up, he saw that Brian had his eyes squeezed shut in anticipation and his dick was slowly coming alive. He stilled all movement.

"Brian?" he said sweetly.

"Hmm?" Brian responded without opening his eyes.

"I'll finish this after dinner."

Angry hazel eyes immediately glared down into michevious blue. "You little fuck!"

Justin smiled. "Tomatoes, garlic, onion, parsley, mushrooms and Parmesan cheese. Please." He said with a smug grin.

Brian sighed, accepting defeat. "If you tell anyone about this-"

"I won't." Justin promised. He buttoned Brian back up, patted him on his ass and told him to get started now if he wanted dessert later.

Brian didn't grumble much, went into the kitchen and started digging through the fridge.

Justin did his best to ignore the slamming fridge door, the pot falling out of the cabinet and Brian's irritated mutterings.

Five minutes later, he heard, "Justin?"

"What?"

"I think these mushrooms have gone bad."

Justin knew he had gone to the supermarket just that week, so everything should be nice and fresh. Intrigued though, he went into the kitchen to make sure everything was ok.

Brian had everything out on the cutting board already and was engrossed with searching the fridge. Justin tapped him on the shoulder. Closing the fridge door, Brian turned and placed the box of mushrooms in Justin's open hand.

"They look fucking gross." he complained.

Justin looked at the mushrooms, then at Brian and finally at the mushrooms again. He shook his head. "Brian, these are fine."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Brian asked.

Justin pushed the small box back into Brian's hands and walked back to his table, saying over his shoulder, "Just wipe them with a damp cloth. The little scrubber is below the sink if you want to take off the bottoms."

"I'd rather eat yours," Brian muttered.

"Later," Justin muttered back.

He heard Brian snort and couldn't help but smile.

Ten minutes later, he heard, "Fuck!"

"Is everything ok?" he asked, concerned immediately.

"I think I cut myself." Brian grumbled, as he examined his fingers. "Fucking sharp shit." He tossed the knife in the sink.

Justin sighed. "Are you all right back there?"

"Just fucking fine. Oh yeah, everything's fine."

Justin ignored him and stretched his fingers to loosen them up. He needed to do this every so often to ensure they wouldn't cramp up on him.

He was so carried away with his work, he didn't notice Brian pacing back and forth in front of him.

"What are you doing, Brian?" he asked when he finally DID notice, more confused than ever.

"Nothing." Brian responded quickly.

A little too quickly, Justin thought, suspiciously. Justin kept his gaze fixed on Brian until he noticed the tears in the other man's eyes. He was immediately amused.

"What are you crying about? I said we'd fuck later, didn't I?"

Brian glared at him. "It isn't funny, you shit! Damn onions are going to make my eyes fall out-"

"At least it's not your dick," Justin quickly cut across.

Brian glared. "I'll be fucking blind for the rest of my life."

Justin raised an eyebrow. "You're practically dead anyways," he joked. "Thirty one..."

At Brian's evil look, Justin stifled his laugh and leaned back in his chair. "I thought you hated onions?"

"They can ruin a boy's sexlife," Brian informed him. "But, I know you like them."

Justin grinned. "How sweet...and totally unlike you."

Brian ignored him and returned to the kitchen... and his onions.

Justin decided to ease his suffering. "Put them in the freezer for about ten minutes. Or put on your Guccis. That should do the trick"

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me that before?" Brian asked grumpily as he threw the onion into the freezer, slamming the door shut.

For quite some time, Brian was quiet. Justin was able to think clearly and come up with a good concept. Just when he was about to put his thoughts onto paper, Brian called out, "Pasta's boiling! What do I do with this sauce?"

"Did you start it already?" Justin tossed over his shoulder.

"It's done."

"It is?"

"Sure."

Justin had to see this one to believe it. Walking into the kitchen, he watched Brian stir at the thick red sauce, which looked a lot like ketchup with chunky vegetables.

Scratching his head, Justin worked up enough courage to ask, "Brian? What the fuck is this?"

Brian was quick to defend his sauce. "Don't say shit until you've tried it. You might just be surprised."

Justin was surprised all right. He forced a smile as he looked at Brian then turned his gaze to the pasta.

"I think that's overcooked," he commented.

Brian gritted his teeth.

Justin raised his hands in surrender. He set the table and got comfortable, reluctantly awaiting the meal Brian had prepared for them.

When Brian placed the plate in front of him, he wanted to pass out. The gooey sauce mixed into overcooked pasta was not a tempting sight but Justin's grumbling stomach couldn't...wouldn't turn food of ANY nature away.

He surprised himself. Hell, he surprised Brian. The bottomless pit ate three plates. Brian couldn't even bear to finish his. It was disgusting...simply revolting.
Brian was appalled at how horrible the meal was and even more alarmed at the amount Justin packed away. Throughout the meal, he tried to get Justin to stop eating but the teen assured him it was fine. Plus, he was hungry.

So Brian was not surprised that at 4 am, Justin was bent over the toilet throwing up his guts. Justin's stomach of steel had found its weakness...Brian's cooking!

Brian lifted the duvet when Justin returned to the bedroom, a pained expression on his pale face.

Justin crawled into the bed and Brian's arms.

"I want to die..." he groaned miserably.

Brian rubbed his forehead gently. He had no idea what to say. After all, he had brought this on his lover.

Justin groaned.

Brian swallowed. "What can I get you?"

"Nothing!" Justin muttered immediately. "You don't do anything..."

Brian tried not to be insulted. He stifled a bitchy response and continued rubbing Justin's back.

"How about some Pepto-Bismol?" Brian offered.

"Has anyone ever over-dosed on that?" Justin asked.

Brian snorted. "Will you behave? This is nobody's fault but your own. One plate was enough. Did you really have to have three? I told you-"

"Stop..." Justin pleaded. "No 'told you so's. Please."

Brian gave in. He massaged Justin's back until the teen relaxed in his arms.

"Brian?" Justin whispered a while later.

"Feeling better?"

"A little," Justin responded quietly. "Brian? Can you do me a favour?"

"What is it?"

"Don't go near a stove again!"

"Justin-"

"I just don't think I can stomach another one of your meals."

Brian wanted to be insulted but he totally understood Justin's fear. He was actually relieved the teen didn't want him cooking. He honestly didn't think he was any good. He was incapable in a kitchen...that fact was pretty obvious now.

So he gladly agreed.

Justin sighed happily and snuggled closer.

"Night, Brian."

Brian's snort filled the room.

08/01/03