Brian fucking Kinney (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
minimumbullshit) wrote2014-06-12 11:09 pm
minimumbullshit) wrote2014-06-12 11:09 pm
(no subject)
He hadn't slept in days. It was starting to show. Dark circles, sallow skin, a walking tragedy. Even he wouldn't fuck himself, looking like this. Even he couldn't blame his bosses for how they were breathing down his neck, unconvinced that he could continue to shoulder his responsibilities.
And Sonny Boy wasn't doing a hell of a lot better. Unfortunately, Brian didn't have a pair of tits to offer, and while the formula he'd bought seemed to be going over relatively well, Gus had made everyone loudly, vocally aware of how much he missed the munchers.
Sometimes, it was like they weren't even related.
That morning, Gus had settled down enough that Brian was finally able to escape the claustrophobia of his apartment, which was glaringly inappropriate for a goddamn baby. He'd packed up a diaper bag, strapped Gus into the new carrier he'd bought, and had carried him down the street to the diner he frequented. Thankfully, the noise didn't seem to be bothering the kid, who was clearly tuckered out.
Shouldering his way inside, bell dinging cheerfully overhead, Brian headed toward the bar to put in his order. It was then that he saw a familiar set of shoulders and shaggy hair slumped in a booth in the back. With a sigh, Brian showed the waiter, a young guy who seemed more interested in cooing over Gus than taking his order, where he was headed, and weaved his way through the tightly packed tables, holding Gus' carrier aloft to keep from bumping it on anything.
Without a word, he set the carrier down on the table and slid into the booth.
And Sonny Boy wasn't doing a hell of a lot better. Unfortunately, Brian didn't have a pair of tits to offer, and while the formula he'd bought seemed to be going over relatively well, Gus had made everyone loudly, vocally aware of how much he missed the munchers.
Sometimes, it was like they weren't even related.
That morning, Gus had settled down enough that Brian was finally able to escape the claustrophobia of his apartment, which was glaringly inappropriate for a goddamn baby. He'd packed up a diaper bag, strapped Gus into the new carrier he'd bought, and had carried him down the street to the diner he frequented. Thankfully, the noise didn't seem to be bothering the kid, who was clearly tuckered out.
Shouldering his way inside, bell dinging cheerfully overhead, Brian headed toward the bar to put in his order. It was then that he saw a familiar set of shoulders and shaggy hair slumped in a booth in the back. With a sigh, Brian showed the waiter, a young guy who seemed more interested in cooing over Gus than taking his order, where he was headed, and weaved his way through the tightly packed tables, holding Gus' carrier aloft to keep from bumping it on anything.
Without a word, he set the carrier down on the table and slid into the booth.