AJ freezes mid-step, nearly losing hold of the pizza box in his hand. It takes a moment, but the tension in his shoulder melts, and he doesn't turn around when he says, curtly, "this is my day job."
He hasn't taken two steps forward when Brian's voice stops him again. "So I should come back later?"
"If later means sixty-nine lifetimes from now, check then."
There's an obvious smirk in Brian's voice, and AJ knows he's stupid enough to take the bait. "You were always so easy, McLean. What happened?"
This Brian, AJ thinks, gripping the edge of the pizza box so tightly his knuckles are white, is nothing like the Brian AJ remembers. He's sharp and bitter and if AJ thought nothing else in the world could bring him down after the AIDS scare, he was wrong.
"Fuck you," he growls, flinging the cardboard box against a wall. He turns to look at Brian, his hands clenched. "What the hell do you want?"
Brian smiles, thinly, but his attention is focused on AJ's delivery motorbike, now. "Pizza Hut, AJ?" Brian laughs, shortly, glancing up, "well done. The uniform looks good on you."
Shit. The conversation winds AJ. His anger dissipates like a flock of birds under attack, and Brian's too close before AJ even realizes it.
"I don't--" AJ mutters, but Brian's kissing him before he can finish. It all happens so fast: AJ kisses him back, and god, he's missed this, Brian's mouth, and the feel of Brian's hair threading through his fingers, Brian's hand sliding down his stomach--fuck, fuck, no.
AJ catches Brian's wrist, tightly, and shoves Brian backward. "I don't work the streets anymore, goddammit!"
"Don't, or can't?" Brian asks, except it's not a question at all.
AJ doesn't answer as he slides back onto the motorcycle. He guns the engine, and disappears down the street. He never looks back.
sorry! i'm not quite sure if this is what you want. but my hooker!aj universe has had this little piece bugging me for a while now.
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Date: 2005-03-09 04:04 am (UTC)AJ freezes mid-step, nearly losing hold of the pizza box in his hand. It takes a moment, but the tension in his shoulder melts, and he doesn't turn around when he says, curtly, "this is my day job."
He hasn't taken two steps forward when Brian's voice stops him again. "So I should come back later?"
"If later means sixty-nine lifetimes from now, check then."
There's an obvious smirk in Brian's voice, and AJ knows he's stupid enough to take the bait. "You were always so easy, McLean. What happened?"
This Brian, AJ thinks, gripping the edge of the pizza box so tightly his knuckles are white, is nothing like the Brian AJ remembers. He's sharp and bitter and if AJ thought nothing else in the world could bring him down after the AIDS scare, he was wrong.
"Fuck you," he growls, flinging the cardboard box against a wall. He turns to look at Brian, his hands clenched. "What the hell do you want?"
Brian smiles, thinly, but his attention is focused on AJ's delivery motorbike, now. "Pizza Hut, AJ?" Brian laughs, shortly, glancing up, "well done. The uniform looks good on you."
Shit. The conversation winds AJ. His anger dissipates like a flock of birds under attack, and Brian's too close before AJ even realizes it.
"I don't--" AJ mutters, but Brian's kissing him before he can finish. It all happens so fast: AJ kisses him back, and god, he's missed this, Brian's mouth, and the feel of Brian's hair threading through his fingers, Brian's hand sliding down his stomach--fuck, fuck, no.
AJ catches Brian's wrist, tightly, and shoves Brian backward. "I don't work the streets anymore, goddammit!"
"Don't, or can't?" Brian asks, except it's not a question at all.
AJ doesn't answer as he slides back onto the motorcycle. He guns the engine, and disappears down the street. He never looks back.
sorry! i'm not quite sure if this is what you want. but my hooker!aj universe has had this little piece bugging me for a while now.