Title. Paradise
Author. obsidianchaos
Word count. 409
Pairing. Brian x Justin
Fandom. Queer as Folk
Disclaimer. they belong to Showtime and Cowslip; I'm just borrowing them.
Notes. themes 02 (news; letter) 14 (radio-cassette player) and 15 (perfect blue) for 30_kisses

Hazel eyes looked out over the clear blue perfection known as the Caribbean with a hint of amusement. Though lighter in shade, the Gulf-warmed waters and his lover’s eyes were both as transparent as glass. It didn’t make much of a difference that Justin’s emotions were smeared across his face like war paint every time he felt strongly about some cause or another.

A tropical dawn was coming to an end, tinged with a salty coconut breeze. And in the midst of it sat Brian Kinney, president and founder of Pittsburgh’s Kinetic, who was lost in a sea of his own creation. To think it had all started with a piece of ivory stationary with an embossed letterhead.

The letter had arrived in an innocent enough envelope: a plain white one labeled with neat black calligraphy and a postmark from Florida. Even the contents weren’t too horrible; it was from a long lost relative’s lawyer who was “terribly sorry” to be the bearer of “bad news,” blah blah blah. To sum it up, Brian had one less branch on his family tree to worry about and a beach house in the Keys to make up for it.

Several hours in a borrowed car now fondly called “Piece of Shit” with only his artist and a radio with a cassette player as company, he was here. Justin had passed out somewhere just over the Georgia-Florida border and had shown no signs of waking when Brian had deposited the blond on the couch upon their arrival.

Surrounded by summer bliss and countless palm tress, the brunet sighed softly as he tilted his already tanned face to greet the sun. Waves lapped like hungry kittens at the sugar sand, bringing a slight smile to the sex god’s lips. Yes, this had to be paradise. No ringing phones, no sweat-stained backrooms filled with horny queers, no deadlines. Nothing could ruin this for him.

Lips that were sun-kissed brushed against his. In his moment of Zen, he had closed his eyes to revel in the peace the dawn had brought with it. Upon opening them, he was greeted by a naked Justin who was suffering from a very serious case of bed head. His smile widened as he returned the kiss.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he teased.

“Fuck off,” the blond murmured, his voice rough after so many hours of sleeping.

“Only if you insist,” Brian smirked, tugging Justin into his lap, kissing him deeply.