“Stop pouting.”

Justin huffed, crossing his arms at his chest. “I’m not pouting.” He chose to ignore the derisive laugh from Brian’s side of the jeep, and pledged to spend the rest of the ride home in silence.

He lasted about thirty seconds.

“But I’m hungry!”

“No, you’re not.”

Justin raised an eyebrow and turned to Brian indignantly. “Excuse me? How the fuck can you possibly know if I’m hungry? Since when are you familiar with the workings of my gastro-intestinal tract?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Brian--”

“We already ate.”

Justin snorted. “I really don’t think two asparagus tips, a quiche the size of my thumbnail and a slice of lemon was enough to tide me over till supper.”

“The Allegra Bistro is one of the finest dining establishments in--”

“I’m starving!”

“Your taste buds have been mutated by all that shit Deb feeds you at the diner. You should be thankful that I’m taking the time and effort to--”

“Brian!”

“Fuck off, Justin. We are not stopping at Burger Queen.”

Justin heaved a sigh as he threw himself back in the seat. Brain was, as usual, being completely unfair. They’d spent the whole morning doing exactly what Brian wanted to do. Did Brian think that he wanted to spend an hour perusing Prada’s fall line? Nooooo. Did Brian think that he wanted to wander for two more hours in some oh-so-elite salon while some pretentious fag with his head up his ass belaboured the artistic merit of a two-bit painter with less talent that he had in his little finger? Nooooo.

But he’d done it. He’d done it because he loved Brian. And if the reason behind Brian’s refusal to buy a painting from the two-bit painter’s collection had put a smile on his face, what of it? He was a better artist and he was better equipped to know what Brian liked. And his painting would look awesome in the loft. That didn’t negate the fact that he’d trailed behind Brian all day and that his feet were sore and that his stomach was rumbling like a freight train.

“You’re pouting again.”

“I am NOT pouting.” Justin angled a glance at Brian, but the man’s face was unreadable. Justin sighed. “At least tell me why we can’t stop at Burger Queen.”

“I already told you.”

“Brian--”

“That shit is full of fat and carbs and eating it is like asking for a heart attack.” Brian shifted in his seat, smirking. “I’m saving you from an early death.”

Justin merely stared.

“It’s ridiculously overpriced.”

Justin added a raised eyebrow to his stare.

“Do you know how long it takes for that greasy oily french fry smell to get out of the jeep? That shit practically burrows into the upholstery!”

“The truth comes out! I knew it, I just--” Justin suddenly lunged to his left, grabbing Brian’s arm in his excitement.

Brian roughly pulled his arm away, briefly glancing from the road to fix the younger man with a glare. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“There!” Justin’s eyes gleamed with anticipation as he pointed at the upcoming road sign. “Look! Burger Queen at the next exit!”

Brian grimaced. “Look! The loft, straight ahead!” he mocked.

As the speeding jeep left the enticing road sign in its wake, Justin flopped back into his seat. Brian wanted to play hard-ball. Fine. He could play hard-ball.

“Okay. Fine. We won’t stop at Burger Queen.”

He glanced at Brian in time to see the older man roll his eyes. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled.”

“Yup. I realize that there are sometimes things in life that one wants, that one can’t get.” He ignored the snort from Brian’s direction and soldiered on. “I want Burger Queen, but I can’t get it. Just like tonight, you’ll want my ass… and… well…”

Brian barked out a laugh. “You can’t last fifteen minutes. You expect me to believe you’ll last an entire night? Fat chance.”

Justin frowned. “I am perfectly capable of withholding sexual favours in order to get my way. It doesn‘t mean I have to like it.”

“Uh huh.”

Justin closed his eyes and slouched in his chair, defeated. Brian was right. Oh, his intentions would be good. He’d do his best to avoid temptation. But all it would take would be a look… a touch… a kiss… and all his good intentions would fly out the window. Justin sighed. He was a slave to his hormones.

Opening his eyes, he turned back to Brian with a smile. “Pleeeeease, Brian?”

“Fuck, Justin! I said No!”

Fifteen minutes later, Justin struggled to balance the Burger Queen bag on his lap as he took a large slurp of his chocolate milkshake.

“You surrrrre you don’t want any of my fries?”

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, Justin. I said No.”