Contact the author: ladewi@comcast.net

While things had been going smoothly between him and Brian, Justin was still a bit nervous. Brian wasn't buying flowers and candy, or showing up on a white -horse in front of the diner to pick him up (though the 'vette was a nice substitute), but his comfort level about their relationship/love affair/situation/fiasco or whatever Brian called it in his mind was obvious to everyone. So Justin felt ready to make his move. Especially since they'd pass the place on the way home.
 

"How about...we stop at Baskin-Robbins?" he said in his sexiest tone as he gazed at Brian.
 

Brian cruised along, pretending to ignore the suggestive suggestion. Actually, he had been preparing for this moment. Sharing ice cream with Justin was more than just a way to fuck up his chaise lounge. It was a signal, a sign, an oracle. Whatever the fuck you called it, there wasn't another guy in the entire Western hemisphere who could say that he'd fed ice cream to Brian Kinney after a hot fuck session. Tricks were usually out the door before they could get their pants back on. Of course that meant Justin was different, and of course that meant he couldn't possibly be considered a trick. Every time they did their "Ice-Cream Special" fuck in the chaise, Brian was confronted by that little fact. Damn the little twat for knowing it. And fuck him if he thought Brian was going down without a fight.
 

"How about we NOT stop at Baskin-Robbins?"
 

" Aww, c'mon" Justin urged. I haven't had ice cream in a while.."
 

"Good fucking thing. You wouldn't want to get any weird-looking dimples on your ass. Cellulite isn't sexy; I'd have to stop fucking you if your ass got lumpy."

Justin was undeterred. Brian knew what ice cream in the chaise meant, and was getting all weird on him. Despite bitching and moaning about all the extra gym time he had to put in, Brian never missed a single spoonful Justin so affectionately fed him. Despite his strict eating habits, Justin a la mode was Brian's favorite "dessert". Justin was determined to get to that point again, wanted things to be the way they were before he'd left Brian--before everything had changed.
 

Eating ice cream was never the same after he'd left. Justin remembered how Ethan had once come home with a half pint of "Superman" flavored ice cream, cooing how he'd make love to him while they ate it. He remembered thinking that anyone who thought Superman ice cream was an aphrodisiac had some serious issues with their confidence. Justin also recalled making every lame ass excuse for not doing it, like "Ice cream makes me cold", "I just took a shower". Stupid stuff.
 

He also remembered being relieved when Ethan finally got the hint that the ice cream was a no-go ...EVER! There were just some things he would NEVER share with Ethan.
Brian drove along Eighth Street trapped in his own memories of the many times they enjoyed ice cream on the chaise lounge.
After Justin left Babylon with Ian the night of the Rage party, Brian had little use for ice cream. Frozen memories invaded his mind each time he'd reached into the freezer for ice and saw that poor, lonely, unused half-pint of vanilla Haagen-Daaz. It sat in the freezer for a month, waiting for its chance to become part of "Brian and Justin: The Sex Odyssey", before Brian finally tossed it into the trash.
 

The closer they got to the store, the more Brian remembered what those times in the chaise were like. Not just the hot, sweaty sex that made him weak for hours after, but how much he'd laughed. Justin, complaining about how skinny his mom thought he was, tickling him and exciting him with the swirl of a spoon, smearing the stuff over Brian's face before fastidiously licking it off. It was ceremonious at times. Kinda like when a bride and groom shove wedding cake into each other's faces...and THAT was exactly why Brian didn't want to stop at Baskin-Robbins--somewhere beneath all the cold sugar and cream were the deeper meanings of what was actually happening between them. Of course, the little fucker would never hear that from him. But with every kiss, and every spoonful that passed between them, Justin knew what Brian was saying--or NOT saying. And that bugged the shit out of Brian.
 

As he pulled up to a stop light, he felt Justin touch the side of his face. And he knew. He knew from the moment he felt Justin's fingers on his cheek that he'd be spending an extra 20 minutes on the Stairmaster tomorrow, and he was okay with that. That soft caress made pulling up in front of Baskin-Robbins a little easier.
 

"Yes I'm sure the chaise is dying for a new flavor" Brian groused.
 

"How about I get something different?" Justin asked as he climbed out of the car.
 

Justin wasn't fazed by Brian's ever-present snarkiness...he knew that Brian had waited for this moment just as much as he had.
 

Things were looking up, and all it would take was a scoop of ice cream.