House Call

by Brown-Eyed Girl

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Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

Discipline, no slash (believe it or not!)

Fandom: Queer As Folk : US

Pairing: Brian and ...?

Spoilers: Yes, but I don't know what the episode was called-the one where Brian turns 30! I don't have the episode on tape, so I apologize if there are any errors in the details.

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Brian lounged in his apartment; bored, strangely depressed, and feeling bitter.

Thirty years old. How could he possibly be thirty years old?

When his parents were thirty, they'd had two children and had been married for several years. Ugly, argument-filled years, but still settled. What did he have to show for his time here on earth?

A great job, a killer apartment, a closet full of designer duds, a sleek black jeep; okay, those things were all right.

But where was the fun? The excitement?

He shook his head to clear his maudlin thoughts, appalled at his own sentimentality. He was Brian Kinney, for god's sake-fuck 'em and leave 'em wishing for more.

He dragged himself off the couch and grabbed a cigarette, stopping to stare at the scarf still draped on the couch.

More-that's what he was after. More sensations, more excitement, more...something. That's what had led him to trying the trick with the scarf. He just wanted a little something to shake up his predictable world.

The baths.
Justin, when he needed a quick and compliant fuck.

And times with the boys: Ted, Emmett -and Michael. Always Michael. His best friend. His oldest friend.

Hell, to be brutally honest, (and if you can't be honest with yourself by the time you're thirty, then you really are a loser) his only friend.

Michael, who was leaving him-abandoning him. Running off to Portland with the good doctor and leaving Brian all alone.

Michael, who left his own going-away party to track him down. To save him, again-without even knowing he was doing it.

Michael, who charged in like a knight on a white horse, wearing his dorky Q-mart clothes, and a worried frown.

Michael, who could read him the riot act better than anyone else on earth. (Though god knew, he had learned from the master. Debbie's tongue could cut wood when she was on a roll.)

Michael, who didn't use smooth words and casual sarcasm to disguise his feelings. Who wore his heart in his eyes; naked, open, not even trying to cover it up.

Those eyes; those beautiful brown eyes which had always held nothing but love and acceptance for Brian were now filled with love for another. Brian's face hardened as he thought of the man who had captured his one true friend.

David, the good doctor. The chiropractor who had manipulated Michael's back-and his heart. Who now claimed Michael for his own.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, wondering idly if he had anything left in his stash of drugs to numb the pain and stop his tortured thoughts. His eyes flicked back to the scarf, but he dismissed the thought. The moment for that was lost; the thrill erased by the anger in Michael's eyes when he'd found him.

He toyed briefly with the idea of heading to Babylon for a late night grope or blow job with any one of the nameless guys who hung around there, but at this time of night, all that would be left were the rejects and seconds. The poor slobs who couldn't even give it away, and there was no way his ego could take that tonight, thank you very much.

He resigned himself to a dark, dreary night, maybe surfing the internet for porn sights. Just the way he'd hoped to celebrate his milestone birthday.


Walking over to the bar to fix himself a drink, he was startled by a firm knock at the loft door. He glanced down at the silk pajama pants he wore and decided they were all right for a late night visitor. Hell, it was more than he usually wore when he had company here. Probably Justin anyway, doing that 'mother hen' thing that Brian found simultaneously endearing and annoying.

He paused by the steel door. "Who is it?" he growled, just in case it wasn't Justin.

"It's David, Brian," came the startling reply. "Can I come in?"

Brian frowned, wondering what the good doctor would be doing paying him a visit at this time of night. He pulled open the door and leaned on the jamb, gazing at David with a weary eye.

"Well, well, well, and to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight, Doc?" he ground out with a bored tone. "Little Mikey left here a while ago. What's the matter, did he get lost on his way home?"

David didn't answer immediately. He stared at Brian until the younger man finally shrugged and moved aside to let him in. "When I left, Michael was half way through the fourth episode of an all-night Scooby Doo marathon," David replied, his voice filled with an affectionate exasperation that Brian found incredibly irritating.

"So what are you doing here? I'd think you'd want to be home, packing all your things up for your new life in the land of the lumberjacks-or is that 'jack-offs?" Brian said snidely.

"The packing is mostly finished. I just had something else to take care of."

Curious in spite of himself, Brian wandered back to the living room to light another cigarette. "Does Mikey know you're here?"

"No, he doesn't. I told him I'd received an emergency phone call from a patient that I had to take care of."

"Tsk, tsk," Brian moved his fingers in the classic 'no no' motion. "Lying to your true love? Where's the trust in this relationship?" Brian teased, but in all honesty, he was surprised. After the tension caused by the good doctor's visit to the baths, Brian was sure he wouldn't lie to Michael anymore. It angered him to think that his poor, love sick friend might find himself betrayed.

David didn't reply, and finally Brian spoke again. "So where's the emergency?"

"Standing in front of me."

Brian stared at David, and then grinned cynically. "Sorry, doc, but nothing's ailing me that a good all night fuck and a few controlled substances won't cure."

"Not according to Michael," David said evenly.

Brian's head flew up. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked testily.

David gestured to the scarf still draped on the back of the sofa. "According to Michael, you were trying something a bit more dangerous than even the pharmacy worth of shit you stick into your body on a regular basis."

Brian was startled by David's comment but he never lost his sly grin. Damn! Michael never knew when to keep his mouth shut. I can't believe he told him about that!

"Mikey never could keep a secret," he said casually. "So, you came all the way over here to tell me that I'm stupid. Believe me, you could have just phoned. I really didn't need to hear it in person."

"Well, at least you admit that it was stupid. That's a step in the right direction."

"You know, your opinion of me is not exactly news. If you've said all you came to say, I think it's time for you to run back to Mikey. I'm sure Shaggy and Scooby are on their last Scooby snacks by now," Brian sneered.

David seemed unperturbed by his tone. "You know, Michael loves you," he said quietly.

This was not what Brian expected to hear. "Yeah, well he loves you...more. That's why he's leaving." Brian was annoyed when he heard a tiny bit of wistfullness in his voice.

"And I love Michael," David continued as though Brian hadn't spoken.

"And Jesus loves the little children. Now that we've established that were all just a bunch of happy fucking queers, I'd really like to get back to my evening," Brian snarled; all pretense of civility gone, brushed away by the sharp flare of hurt he felt at David's calm declaration.

"Remember your algebra?" David asked unexpectedly, and Brian stared at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"My algebra? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You remember-the old rule about if A equals B, and B equals C...?"

"Yeah, yeah, then A equals C-I remember, doc, but I've got to tell you, I think you've been writing too many of your own prescriptions."

David's face never lost it's placid expression, which was beginning to unnerve Brian. "No, but you wanted an explanation for why I was here, and I thought maybe an analogy would make it a little clearer. You see, Michael worries about you, and what worries Michael, worries me. So, like it or not, I have a vested interest in making sure you keep yourself together."

"Your concern is overwhelming, but I can manage just fine," Brian said bitterly.

"Look, I'm leaving with Michael tomorrow, and it's my hope and intention to make sure his future has as many happy days as it can possibly hold. And I know he won't be happy if he's worrying about you doing something stupid. Something like that." David indicated the discarded scarf with distaste.

"So you came over here to make me promise never to do it again?" Brian couldn't help it; he was truly dumbfounded. He shook his head and chuckled. "Fine, tell Mikey I promise I'll never try it again." He held his fingers up in a mock salute. "Scout's honor."

"The boy scouts don't allow gays, or haven't you heard? And sorry, but a promise from you just doesn't give me the reassurance it should."

Brian shook his head, growing bored with the conversation. "Well, sorry, doc but that's the best I can do." He snatched up the scarf and tossed it at the older man. "Here, take it if you want. Use it to tie Mikey up. He might like that," he said coyly.

David slowly shook his head. "With your bank account, you can buy a million scarves. What I want to do is ensure that you'll never even want to try it again."

The flat, cold tone in the doctor's voice was giving Brian just the tiniest flicker of unease. He'd gotten into a few bad scenes with some of the tricks he'd brought home, and his warning bells were beginning to chime. Odd, he'd never felt that way about David before. He glanced up, surprised to discover that David was standing much closer to him than he remembered.

"Don't know how you think you're going to do that," Brian tossed off, praying that David couldn't hear the slight tremor in his voice. The guy was much bigger than he looked.

David's voice dropped to a silky and dangerous tone. "Thirty years old now, aren't you, Brian? But of course, I'm much older, as you are always so quick to remind Michael. Old enough to teach a young brat like you a lesson in taking stupid risks."

"You know, this intimidation thing never even worked for my father, so why don't we just end this conversation for the night?" Brian said with a bravado that was beginning to sound false even to his own ears. He couldn't help himself from backing ever so slightly away from David's looming presence.

"Maybe he just didn't have the right motivation," David continued in that same tone, which seemed all the more threatening for its calmness.

Brian found himself still edging backwards, by now almost reaching the back of the couch. He was frantically trying to remind himself of the first rule of advertising: Never let them see you sweat. It had never, or at least rarely, been a problem for him, but now he found himself more and more unsettled by David's unpredictable behavior.

Falling back on his tried and true methods, Brian glanced slyly at David and murmured in his sultriest voice, "What's the matter, doc? Mikey not enough for you? Want to try something a little different? Mikey would never have to know." Brian really didn't want to betray his friend that way, but the whole situation was making him feel a little out of his depth. He'd do anything to escape the good doctor's mesmerizing eyes.

To his surprise and chagrin, David merely shook his head patiently, almost like a father mildly reprimanding his naughty child. "Thanks for the offer, but that's not what I'm here for."

Brian actually felt himself blushing, embarrassed by David's almost condescending refusal. "Well, then I guess you'd better get out of here," he said firmly, trying to remind himself that the man was a guest in his apartment.

David shook his head again. "Not until I'm sure we understand each other."

"Look, I get it, okay? No more hanky-panky with the scarf.. Jesus, does Mikey put up with this bossy shit?"

"Michael has a good head on his shoulders. He knows better than to try anything so pointlessly dangerous and careless."

"And if he did?" Brian asked, curious in spite of the perilous ground he knew he was on.

Suddenly, David was right on top of him. "Then I'd spank him. Just like I'm going to do to you," came the lethal answer in his ear.

Brian managed a stuttering laugh. "Yeah, right, doc. Sorry, but I'm not into leather. If it's kink you're after, you've definitely come to the wrong place."

David pressed tightly against Brian, imprisoning him against the back of the couch. "Sorry, little one, but I'm afraid there's nothing kinky about what I have planned tonight. Tonight is just about learning a lesson."

Brian felt a burst of fear-born adrenaline and shoved back, but David suddenly seemed as immovable as one of the brick walls in his apartment. Brian felt himself jerked around, his stomach and hip bones meeting the rigid edge of the cushions as David pinned him firmly.

A moment later, his silk pajamas were in a puddle at his feet.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" Brian managed to shout, though the surprise maneuver had driven most of the air from his chest.

"I told you, I'm making sure Michael can leave for Oregon with a clear conscience. Because by the time we finish tonight, you'll never even be able to think about repeating your asinine actions from earlier without remembering the pain and humiliation that followed. That should be enough to drive it from even your stubborn and self-destructive mind."

Brian was panting now from exertion, but his struggles seemed to have no effect on the older man. Just as he geared himself for a more determined attempt at freeing himself, a blazing pain made itself known across his bared backside.

"Owww! Fuck!" The sudden blow brought tears to his eyes, but the doctor didn't stop at one. Within moments, every nerve ending in Brian's bottom was singing out. He managed to bite back the reactions that the first few smacks produced, but as they continued, his resolve faltered and then gave way completely. He started with mere grunts, but within moments, he couldn't help himself from crying out.

"Ow, shit! God, stop it! That fucking hurts!" How could pain like this come from nothing more than a hard hand? Brian had flirted a little with S/M play, but always as a top. How could anyone think this was fun? Or erotic?

David didn't reply, concentrating all of his energies on the task at hand. Brian's body had a smooth sleekness that Michael's never would, but that fact didn't interest him at all. He had a mission to complete, and nothing was going to keep him from it. When he judged that he'd delivered enough punishment to have Brian's full attention, he paused and spoke softly.

"Are you beginning to realize what a bad idea scarfing is?" he murmured into Brian's ear.

"Get the fuck off me, you goddamn asshole!," Brian gasped, reeling from both the pain and his awkward position.

"Always a charmer, aren't you Brian?" David teased, and then reached for the scarf still dangling nearby, keeping one hand firmly on Brian's back. He drew the length of silky material over the younger man's shoulders, trailing the soft fringe down to the burning ass beneath. "Still want to use this scarf for playing?"

The slippery coolness brought gooseflesh to Brian's naked body. "Stop it, you fucking freak!" he shouted, but his words were trembling and cracked.

David gently looped the cloth around Brian's mouth, making a loose-fitting gag, letting the ends rest on Brian's back. "Enjoying the sensations, brat? Trust me, you'll never think about a scarf in the same way again."

David's cool and sardonic demeanor was almost as disturbing to Brian as the punishment he'd received. Brian was used to being the one in control-the one who made the rules of engagement, and then changed them as it suited him. This utter helplessness was alien and unwelcome.

Without warning, David brought his hand down hard again, but this time he continued more slowly, drawing out the agony. "Are you learning your lesson?" he asked his captive.

Brian spat out another expletive, but the soft folds of the cloth muffled his words. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. He was Brian Kinney, damn it! And a Kinney never cries! God knows, he'd learned that lesson clearly as a child.

Several more strokes destroyed his resolve and he shook his head frantically, dislodging the makeshift gag as the tears streamed down his face.

"Stop it. Please!" he begged, and he was stunned when the heavy hand actually did come to an abrupt ha1t. He continued to lay draped over the cushions, too mortified by his tears and surrender to face his punisher.

David gently unwound the scarf, leaving one hand on Brian's back. He gathered it into a ball and tossed it towards the table, watching as it slipped and fell to the floor.

Now that the punishment was over, Brian was determined to regain his footing, both literally and figuratively. He pushed himself up, throwing off David's hand and ignoring the sharp protest from his stinging backside as he slid his pajama pants back into place. He glared at his tormentor, wanting desperately to punch the placid expression right off the older man's face.

"Get out of here, you fucker. And while you're driving home, I'll be on the phone with Mikey, telling him exactly what kind of sicko he's hooked up with!" Brian was still having trouble catching his breath, so the declaration came out more petulant than menacing

David's expression remained calm. "Be my guest, but I intend to tell Michael all about it anyway. And if you're hoping he'll be angry with me, I'm afraid you'd be wrong. I'm sure he would have liked to have done it himself, but you have him so well trained as your whipping boy, the thought never occurred to him."

Brian heard the frank honesty in the words and couldn't deny them. He suddenly felt even more defeated. Overloaded by both the pain and humiliation of the last few minutes, he wanted nothing more than for the doctor to leave so he could lick his wounds in private. "Just go, then, get out of here," he said raggedly. "You got your pound of flesh, your revenge for every nasty remark and age crack I've ever made. You can leave for Oregon as the great, big doctor, the one who made Brian Kinney cry!" He turned away in humiliation, stiffening when he felt David moving closer to him. He couldn't help the tiny flicker of fear he felt at the thought of more punishment, and that flicker threatened to destroy the little composure he had left.

To his amazement, David gently reached for his chin, turning it to face him. Then he used one thumb to rub away the traces of tears on Brian's stubbled cheek and spoke softly.

"I know you won't believe this, but I didn't punish you tonight to win some sort of rivalry between us. Michael wants to help and protect you, but you won't accept it from him. Your roles are so clearly defined from back when you were kids, you won't let him be the strong one, even though you both know he is."

"So you did this for Michael?" Brian remarked scornfully, pushing the man away.

"I did something you'd never let him do, yes," David replied, "but I did it for you."

Brian rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Oh come on, doc, you loathe me. I can see it in your eyes every time we're together."

David shook his head. "No, I don't loathe you. Like I said, Michael loves you, and I trust his judgment. He's convinced me that there's more to Brian Kinney than a biting wit and devastating good looks," David said with a faint grin. His demeanor became more stern, and he took both of Brian's arms in firm grip.

"That's why I don't want you trying things like that damn scarf trick again. Nothing is worth that kind of risk. You've got too much going for yourself to take the chance on throwing it away for something so fleeting." He released Brian and grinned at him again. "Trust me, there are other, less dangerous, ways of having mind-blowing sex. Maybe by the time you're an old geezer like me, you'll learn some."

To Brian's amazement and annoyance, he found himself grinning back. "I know all kinds of tricks you don't, old man," he said with a flicker of his usual cocky spirit.

"Good. Now, just keep yourself alive long enough to share them with as many men as you can, all right?" David turned to the door. "Guess I'd better get back before Michael decides to ignore the rule about no popcorn in the bed. Take care of yourself, Brian. And remember, Portland's just a few hours away by jet."

Brian nodded, feeling abandoned once again. "See ya, doc. Take care of Mikey for me."

"Always," the older man vowed. "And you take care of yourself. Those jets fly both ways, you know, and I won't hesitate to come back for a reminder lesson if it's needed."

Brian shook his head. "It won't be." He watched David leave, and then locked the door behind him, leaning his head on it wearily. His bottom still throbbed, and the thought of Michael being so far away made his heart feel heavy.

He dragged himself to his bed, stripping off his silk pants and flopping down on the covers face first. He reached back tentatively with one hand, trying to assess the damage done to his best asset. The skin was hot and felt rough, but the sting was beginning to fade. On the brighter side, he wasn't feeling quite so ancient at 30 anymore. There was nothing like a spanking to help you get in touch with your inner child. He found himself thinking of Justin, and hoping the kid wouldn't pick tonight to visit. There was no way he was going to try and explain this one! He drifted off to sleep, thinking of Justin's invitation to his high school prom.

Maybe he wasn't too old after all.


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