Thanks to Wendy, Jenn and Lois for their wunnerful beta-expertise!!!

Sunday Afternoon Delights:
SPRING CLEANING
by Irina & PIG

He heard banging and a bunch of indecipherable words that sounded like variations on the "fuck" theme.

Brian pulled his pillow over his head, trying to block out the loud sound coming from the other end of the loft. He didn't even care to look up to see what time it was. That wasn't important. It was Sunday. The day after Saturday, which meant it was the day of recuperating after the night of fucking, drinking and taking impressive amounts of drugs that wouldn't be on the list of any self-respecting pharmacist.

But apparently Justin didn't get the memo because instead of the two of them spending all day in bed like Brian had planned, for some God forsaken reason his lover was trying to get something out of the utility closet.

"Brian."

The voice came from the entrance into the bedroom and Brian heaved a sigh of relief that the blond had come to his senses.

"Brian, come on, wake up."

"Mmmm," Brian mumbled, burying his head deeper into the pillow.

He felt the bed move and in the next moment, he felt his lover's hand touch his shoulder.

"Come on, we have things to do."

"People to kill," Brian replied grumpily, realizing that Justin just wasn't going to go away or better yet, lie down next to him and pretend they were both dead for the next four or five hours.

He raised the pillow that was covering his head and opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light that flooded the room.

"And you'll be the first one on the list, Sunshine," he droned. Not waiting for Justin's response, he closed his eyes and pulled the pillow over his head once again.

Justin sighed. He had known this wasn't going to be easy. Getting Brian up on a Sunday before 2pm was a tough task… impossible even. But if Justin was one thing, it was determined. Brian had to get up and help him!

Besides, this wasn't Justin's fault. If Brian hadn't gone and fired the cleaning lady, they'd still have someone to do the cleaning! Justin wouldn't have to be up at this horrible hour. Instead, he'd be curled up next to his lover under the warm duvet.

He poked Brian's shoulder and heard a low growl. Gritting his teeth, Justin got off the bed and moved to stand at the edge. Getting a tight grip on the covers, he pulled them off in one swift motion.

He was now staring at a pair of recently tanned butt cheeks, clenched angrily at the loss of warmth.

"Oh fuck it!" Justin heard as he scooped the duvet in his arms.

He ignored Brian's groans of protest and moved into the kitchen, where he dumped the contents of his arms onto the floor to join the pile of dirty linen he'd already collected.

"Brian!" he called, ensuring his voice was loaded with sugary sweetness.

Turning around, he collided with a bare chest.

"Oh," he said sheepishly, a blush creeping into his cheeks. "You’re up! Did I wake you?"

At Brian's glare, he lost his grin.

"Don't look at me like that," Justin pleaded.

"It's fucking Sunday, Justin," Brian growled. "SUNDAY," he repeated slowly. "The day of rest… not the day of wake-your-boyfriend-up at an ungodly hour to..." His voice trailed off when his eyes landed on a pile of towels, sheets, and the missing duvet from his bed.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"The Salvation Army called this morning, so I thought we could..." Justin started, but was cut across.

"You do not..." Brian raised his gaze to Justin's face. "You do not actually expect me..." The older man snorted as he picked the duvet off the floor.

”I'm going back to bed while you go in search of your sanity, Sunshine."

Grabbing onto an edge of the duvet and using all of his strength, Justin pulled Brian back towards him.

"Oh, no, you don't!" he gritted out. "It's not my fault you went totally ballistic and fired Maria for no apparent reason!" When Brian made a move to respond, Justin continued quickly, "And don't annoy me at this hour with your excuses. I've heard them all. It's your loft and we're going to clean it. Understood?"

Brian held onto the duvet as if it was his lifeline. "First of all, there's a lot of expensive shit in this loft and I need to be able to trust the person who cleans it not to ruin things."

He tugged on the duvet. "And second of all…" he scowled, pulling harder, "I make enough money to have someone else clean, as you say, MY loft."

Justin's entire demeanor changed. He chewed on his lower lip slowly as he digested what Brian had carelessly tossed his way. Justin saying the loft belonged to Brian was one thing. Brian saying it... well, that was another story.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Justin nodded and forced a smile. "I see. Ok, that's fine. Go back to bed then. Take care of YOUR place. I won't do anything. In fact..." He turned away and walked into the bedroom. Finding his hooded jacket on the floor, he picked it up and put it on. Walking back outside, he headed for the door.

He heard the exasperated sigh and knew Brian was going to start on him.

Brian dropped the duvet on the floor and with his free hand rubbed the back of his neck. It was too damn early on a Sunday morning to have this conversation YET AGAIN. But somehow he seemed to have backed himself into that corner, which wasn’t at all surprising, and now he somehow had to get himself out before it got blown, and not in a good way, out of proportion.

”Would you quit being such a fucking drama princess?”

Justin was already at the door, disarming the alarm.

At the sound of his voice, though, the blond stopped and turned around, waiting for him to make the next move.

Brian sighed exasperatedly. It was obvious Justin was not going to make it easy for him this morning.

”Look, we’ve had this conversation before. Do we really need to go through the same dance again?”

Justin didn't respond. Instead, he went on disarming the alarm. Fuck Brian if he thought he was going to ignore this problem by making it seem like Justin always made a big fucking deal over everything. It wasn't Justin's fault Brian was a self-absorbed asshole at times.

Justin sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to fight. And Brian did have a point, it was Sunday. They both had better things to do than argue on their one free day of the week.

"Look, forget it. I'm gonna go see Mol. I promised her I'd stop by today to help her with some stuff."

Brian inhaled sharply. Obviously his usual approach wasn’t going to do the trick this time.

He had to practically crawl over the enormous pile Justin had created in the middle of the kitchen. Walking over to the door, he covered Justin’s moving hand with his.

“It’s really early for the whole soap opera thing. Can we just skip to the kiss and make up portion of the program?”

Justin pushed him away gently. He was not giving in that easily.

"Don't, Brian."

He walked out of the loft and into the awaiting elevator. To his utter dismay, he realized Brian had followed him inside... naked.

"Brian, you don't have any clothes on!" he told him, just in case the older man had forgotten that minor detail.

The only response to this was that Justin found himself jammed against the inside wall of the elevator. Resolutely, he turned his head away when Brian tried to kiss him.

“Morning breath never been a problem for you before,” Brian commented, using his index finger to lift Justin’s chin up, forcing the younger man to look him in the eye.

Justin didn't know why he was reacting like a big baby, but he couldn't help the tears that had welled up in his eyes. Brian was going to think he was pre-menstrual if he kept this up.

Using the back of his hand, he quickly wiped at his eyes, but not before Brian had seen the twinkle of a tiny tear.

Even though Justin usually did a good job of covering up his tears, or blaming them on his allergies, this time Brian saw them nevertheless. The confident smirk that was his trademark faded quickly, replaced by a lost look. He was still clueless when it came to dealing with all things ‘relationship.’ Sex was the only thing he knew, but obviously that wasn’t going to fix things right now.

Brian cupped Justin’s face in his hand, brushing the smooth cheek with his thumb.

“Fine, we'll clean,” he announced in defeat, hoping that Justin would cheer up. “But I am NOT doing laundry,” Brian added, noticing the artist’s mouth twitching at the corners.

Throwing his arms around Brian's neck, Justin hugged his boyfriend tightly. When he pulled away, he was grinning like a madman.

"Are you sure?" Justin asked, although he already knew he was getting his way. "I would hate to *force* you to do something you didn't want to do..."

Brian pulled away ready to come back with a witty response. But his features softened, his mouth curving at the sides into a sly smile.

“You can enjoy this all you want… because as soon as we’re done spit shining the floor, you’ll be on your back spit shining my cock.”

"It'll be my pleasure." Justin winked. He grabbed a hold of Brian's arm quickly in case the other man changed his mind and walked back into the loft.

Before letting Brian go, so he could put on some clothes, Justin leaned close to whisper, "You didn't really mean it, did you, Bri?"

Even though he knew perfectly well what Justin was referring to, Brian couldn't just come out and take the words back. It just wouldn't be his style. So, instead, he smirked. "I always mean it when it comes to your mouth and my cock."

Deciding not to push his luck, Justin forced a smile. He smacked Brian's butt and was rewarded by the flush of red and an enticing wiggle of Brian's hips.

"While you change, I'll move the furniture around, " he said and moved to do just that.

Brian was on his way to the bedroom to do as his fearless leader in cleaning commanded. That was until he heard Justin's last words. Stopping cold in his tracks, he spun around on his heels. "Did you just say, move the furniture around?"

Justin was in the process of lifting the coffee table. He set it down immediately when he saw the expression on Brian's face.

"I thought we could shift some stuff around," Justin rushed out. "I've been checking out the latest styles in home design and..."

Brian fought back the urge to strangle his lover right there and then, forcing himself to be reasonable. He REASONED that Justin was much younger and less experienced, and therefore did not understand completely that moving a gay man's furniture was like trying to take a bone from a hungry dog ­ A. VERY. BAD. IDEA.

"How about you just take a Swiffer and wipe the dust off the coffee table?" He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"But Brian," Justin began. When he saw Brian's right eye begin to twitch, he paused. "Um, Bri, are you ok?" At Brian's blank look, he explained, "I think something's wrong with your eye."

"We are not moving the furniture," Brian uttered, not leaving any room for argument or objections.

This was non-negotiable. Not giving Justin a chance to respond, the brunet resumed walking toward the bedroom to get dressed, hoping that Justin would not tempt the Gods and everything holy and move ANYTHING. No matter how much he gave a damn about the little shit, *shifting stuff around* was grounds for losing a testicle or two.

Justin stuck his tongue out at the retreating back. Damn it! He never should have mentioned his plan to Brian; he should have just done what he had intended.

Sighing loudly, he picked up the Swiffer duster and made a quick sweep over the coffee table, grumbling softly to himself.

Making his way over to the utility closet, he located what he was looking for - the vacuum - and dragged it towards the small area of the sitting room, which was carpeted. He didn't quite make it to his destination though. Brian, who still wasn't completely dressed, blocked his path yet again.

"I think you forgot something, Sunshine," Brian tossed casually, his arms snaking around Justin's waist.

"Huh?"

Brian snickered. "You know," he began, pulling the smaller man closer. "For someone who was in a *romantic relationship,* you know jack shit about being a boyfriend."

When the confusion on the blond's face only deepened, Brian smiled and informed the teen of his ‘boyfriendly duty.’

"It's customary in a RELATIONSHIP to kiss your BOYFRIEND good morning."

"Oh," was all Justin was allowed to say before his mouth was covered by soft lips. Brian's mouth slanted over the blond's deliciously, sending thrills down his spine. Wrapping an arm firmly around Brian's waist, Justin dropped the vacuum cord on the floor and allowed his lover to deepen the kiss. His tongue stroked Brian's teasingly, begging for more and more... even more.

Pulling away for air, Justin gazed into Brian's glazed hazel eyes. He knew exactly what that meant and he was having none of it. Not right now anyway. Quickly, he removed his arm and moved past Brian, leaving the other man stupefied.

Brian grimaced, willing his dick to go down. Apparently, his usual trick of getting Justin to forget about ridiculous things such as cleaning the loft as opposed to letting the cleaning lady do it, and instead, fall into the bed making love…er…fucking…for the rest of the day wasn't going to work. And he was stuck doing something he hated with all of his being…the ultimate C-word ­ Cleaning.

Justin found himself humming as he plugged on the vacuum. Ignoring Brian's clearing of the throat he clicked 'on' and proceeded to speed clean the white carpet. In no time at all, he was done.

Realizing that there was nothing left to do but start cleaning and hope that they got done quickly enough, leaving more than enough time for more important activities, such as SLEEPING, Brian picked up the Swiffer that Justin had dropped earlier and started going around the room, removing dust from furniture - -or at least moving it around a little, his efforts making it clear this wasn't one of his areas of expertise.

Justin pressed his lips together when he saw Brian attacking the sofa with the white duster. It was such a rare thing to see Brian clean anything.

To keep Brian's mind off their chores as much as anything else, Justin put on his new Moby CD. The minute the first song started, Brian was at his side, stopping the music.

"Brian!" Justin pouted. "I like that song."

Justin heard, "Well I don't.” He watched as Brian turned his back to him, stooping to the ground to search through his own CD collection.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Justin glared at the top of his boyfriend's chestnut head. "That's so unfair, Brian!"

Brian shrugged absentmindedly as he found the CD he had been searching for. “Life’s not fair, Sunshine.”

Justin rolled his eyes heavenward. "Let me guess, another Brian Kinney lesson in life?"

Brian took Justin’s chin in his hand, a lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Well, it is my duty to prepare you for the future.”

He flashed Justin a smile before turning away to put the CD into the changer.

The minute Brian pressed play, Justin groaned. "Brian, I am *not* cleaning to Pink Floyd!"

“What’s wrong with Pink Floyd?”

"I don't mind them," Justin explained. "But not while I'm cleaning! How about some Abba? Mom bought me their Gold album! We could sing and..."

Brian’s eyebrow glided up his forehead, curving into a furry arch. ”Please, please, PLEASE tell me you’re kidding?”

He cringed at the thought. When he was met with a confused look on his lover's face, Brian added, “You are never hanging out with Emmett again. And I am seriously considering limiting the time your mother spends with Debbie.”

Justin snorted. "Fine, be that way!"

Stomping off into the bathroom angrily, Justin gripped onto the laundry basket, pulling it close to where the dirty linens lay.

Brian sighed loudly, even though there was nobody in the room who would hear him express exasperation. Yes, Justin was very mature and very experienced for his age. BUT... he was also nineteen and it was moments like these that Brian wondered what the hell he was doing with a teenager. He wasn’t equipped for raising kids. That was the main reason he wasn’t more involved in raising Gus.

Pushing back the urge to read the teen the riot act, Brian took a deep breath in and then exhaled slowly. Feeling in control of his emotions once more, Brian crossed the loft, knocking softly on the bathroom door - something neither of them ever did. When he didn’t get a response, he carefully opened the door and peeked in. Justin was on the floor, folding the towels before placing them into the laundry basket.

”You know, you’re supposed to fold them AFTER you do the laundry.”

Justin was not amused. "Fuck off," he snapped, folding the dirty towels with more vigour.

Why did he allow Brian to irritate him so? Justin vowed to strangle the other man in his sleep.

Well, Brian thought, at least he had tried. But it seemed like the planets had aligned perfectly for Justin’s drama queen moment.

“Fine, let me know when you stop acting like a fucking two-year-old and want to have an adult conversation.”

With that, Brian walked back over to the stereo where he had left the Swiffer and resumed his dusting duties, painfully aware of the two blue eyes intently following his every move.

Justin glared hotly at Brian's back hoping the other man was feeling their burn. He wondered if Brian was even aware of his *own* drama queen traits!

Then a thought struck him. An utterly, totally, brilliantly wicked thought.

"Bri?" Justin called sweetly. "Come help me carry these hampers down to the jeep. There are a stack of quarters in the side pocket. It shouldn't take you more than a couple hours to do the loads."

Brian’s first reaction was to ask the little fucker whether he had heard him correctly. He was on the other side of the loft, so there could have been a very good chance that what Justin had said had nothing to do with him, laundry and quarters. After all, Justin should know him better than that.

His second reaction was to laugh, which was exactly what he did. He laughed out loud, right in Justin’s face.

Justin smiled, enjoying the humour of the situation. After all, he *knew* he was going to get his way. Brian needed to be pulled down a peg or two. He needed to know who was the *real* boss of their relationship. Sure, Justin might have to give-over when it came to selecting CDs and such, but the important things... well…  a little reminder wouldn't hurt anyone, Brian in particular.

"What's so funny?" Justin asked, although he already knew the answer.

Brian glared at him, the silly smile on his face long gone. “I told you before, there is no fucking way I am doing laundry.”

"Is that so?" Justin asked. "Ok, have it your way."

Justin dumped the handful of Brian's clothes back on the floor and reached for his own and the dirty linens. He quickly shoved everything into the laundry bag and headed for the door, ignoring the angry gaze that refused to leave his face.

Sliding the door open, Justin turned and said, "I'll be back shortly. If Mol calls, tell her I'll stop by sometime later."

Tapping his foot angrily on the floor, Brian scowled at his lover, even more disconcerted by the fact that Justin wasn’t at all affected by it. In fact, Justin was a picture of serenity as he pulled the big laundry basket through the doorway.

His lips pressed tightly together, eyes narrowed into thin lines; Brian looked between the pile of his dirty clothes and his lover. It wasn’t that his clothes were dirty. He could have just bought new ones and that would have been the end of it. The problem arose from the fact that he didn't plan on spending the rest of Sunday alone in the loft while Justin went off and did...well, whatever it was teenage boys did on Sundays when they weren’t being fucked by their much older, much hornier boyfriends. Plus, the thought of letting Justin out of his sight at the moment, even if it was only to go to the Laundromat, did not appeal to Brian in the least.

”Wait!” he called out just as Justin was about to close the door.

With a straight face, Justin sweetly said, "Yes, dear?"

Brian knew that he had just been played, but as a player himself, he recognized the skill it took.

Smirking coyly at his boyfriend, Brian announced defeat. “Since you’re going to do laundry anyway, I guess I could come with.”

He tried to win some points by at least losing gracefully.

Thankfully, his lover didn’t rub it in his face. Instead, Justin simply leaned against the doorframe while Brian went into the bedroom and put a shirt on. He then piled all of his clothes into a separate bag before joining Justin at the door.

The blond made no comment. He waited in the elevator, trying to keep his laughter contained, while Brian set the alarm.

Once Brian and he were in the jeep and on their way, he turned to his partner-for-life-and-laundry and said, "Could you make a little detour and stop by my Mom? She needs me to do her laundry as well 'cos she's gonna be real busy this week."

Justin knew Brian would complain about the ordeal of seeing Jennifer Taylor. As predicted, Justin heard, "No, I refuse to..."

Justin blocked out the rest of Brian's complaint and waited until his lover was done.

"How about you drop me off here then?" Justin asked, his finger pointing to the nearby bus-stop. "The bus passes every ten minutes."

He saw Brian grimace and knew the older man was going to give in and take him to his mother's, but Justin was having none of that. He opened the door and hopped out.

"I’ll get mom to drop me at the laundry in twenty minutes, tops!"

As he walked to the bus-stop, he watched the jeep drive away. Shaking his head in disbelief, he wondered how long it would take Brian to realize that he'd just been had.

Jennifer asking JUSTIN to do her laundry? Ha. What a joke. Whipping out his cell phone, Justin dialed his mother's. Molly answered after two rings.

"Mollusk," Justin said.

"Jus! Are you still coming over today?"

"Change of plan. Can you get mom to drop you off at the loft?"

"Um... hang on." He heard her shouting the question to their mother in the background. "She said ok. What time?"

Justin calculated that Brian would be stuck at the Laundromat for at least an hour and a half. That would give him enough time to clean up the loft.

"Give me a couple hours," he told her. "No, make it three hours."

"Ok, Jus."

"Oh, and Mol?"

"Yeah?"

Justin grinned. "Tell Mom she'd be proud of me."

"What d'you mean?"

"You know how she always says I'm Brian's 'hired hand?'"

Molly laughed.

"Well, tell her the boy has trained the man. And she's going to be pleased with the results."

Still giggling he hung up the phone. Three hours. That would give him time to tidy the loft and make good on his promise of "spit shining" Brian's cock before Molly arrived.

After all, suitable rewards were a very important part of any training process.

Of course, Brian might be more than a little annoyed with him when he realized that he'd been had. He might even want to punish his "bad boy". Well, that was all right.

"I mean," Justin thought to himself, "I deserve my reward too."

In happy anticipation he headed back to begin work on his cleaning, so that when Brian returned he would find the loft looking spotless, just like a home, just like their home, should.

14/05/03