Title: Molly Taylor vs The Stud of Liberty Avenue
Written By: Suz firstname.lastname@example.org
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Timeline: Post-season three. Knowledge of 314 would probably help, but isn't essential
Rating: R, for language
Summary: Brian's not entirely sure how he ended up babysitting Molly. Brian fic, with some Brian/Justin on the side. Humour
Authors Notes: Many thanks to my wonderful nel_ani for looking over it. *MWA*
Brian's not entirely sure how he ended up babysitting Molly.
He remembers a really hot blowjob from Justin, and then some explanation about how the twat absolutely had to work a shift at the diner for reasons Brian hadn't cared enough about to pay attention to (although he suspected Kiki was involved somehow. She always seemed generally useless, even when she was Kenny). Then there was some vague explanation about Jennifer having to show a client a house at some weird ass hour and her usual babysitter coming down with a case of crabs or something - although it might have been a family emergency instead. He wasn't sure.
And apparently everyone else in the entire Pittsburgh area is busy with some kind of shit too, because Brian can't think of any earthly reason why he's been asked by his not-boyfriend's mother if he wouldn't mind 'keeping an eye' on his not-boyfriend's little sister for a few hours.
Molly seems distinctly unimpressed by the idea herself, glowering at him as Brian is led into the living room to be introduced.
"I don't need a babysitter," she argues, lifting her chin up. "I'm not a kid. I'm almost twelve!"
Christ, she really is like her brother.
But at least they have similar feelings on the subject - neither one of them want him to be there. It probably doesn't help that they've never actually met before. He and Justin have been fucking for well over two years, off and on, and the closest he's got to actually meeting Molly before is seeing her in the back of Jennifer's car (he remembers that encounter. They'd both done their best to avoid looking at each other).
Brian really doesn't know what he's doing there at all, but it's not like he's working or has anything better to do. It's either stay at the house with Molly, or go back to the loft and stare at the spaces furniture used to fill.
Yeah, he should've stayed at the loft.
But Jennifer is smiling at him gratefully and assuring him that Molly mostly takes care of herself. She tells him to help himself to anything - "Except the TV, Brian," - and there's money on the side if Molly wants to phone for a pizza later. She makes sure he has her cell number and promises that she shouldn't be gone for more than three hours.
Babysitting turns out to be pretty fucking easy. His only experience with it in the past has been with Gus - a lot younger and a lot messier - and his sister's fucking demon spawn. Being accused of molesting his nephew wasn't something that gave Brian bright, shiny feelings about the idea of babysitting anyone.
But Molly stays up in her room, playing loud music that's probably supposed to irritate him. Brian hears shit louder than that most nights at Babylon and feels oddly Zen as he lounges about on the sofa, idly watching a documentary about James Dean and deciding on the many and various ways he's going to fuck Justin when he gets home.
Jennifer had asked him not to smoke indoors, so he climbs down the stairs that lead to the front door and stands outside for a few minutes. It's starting to get cold so he's almost grateful when he stubs out the smoke and steps back inside, closing the door behind him. Heading up the stairs, he pauses when he realises Molly's sitting on the top step, frowning down at him.
"That's a really bad habit," she tells him. "Smoking kills."
It's like dealing with a younger, pissier version of Justin. Justin used to warn him about the evils of just about everything - but changed his tune when he actually <i>tried</i> everything.
"Good thing I'm not making you do it, then," he retorts, and finishes climbing the stairs.
She doesn't move, and Brian has to step around her.
He's been lounging on the sofa for a few more minutes when he notices the head peering around the doorway. Molly watches him and he tries not to watch her because Christ, what the fuck does he care if some little girl is staring at him anyway? She's not legal and she doesn't have a cock, so she's of no interest to him whatsoever.
The documentary ends and Molly keeps staring, and Brian apparently has no fucking self-control whatsoever as he snaps, "What?"
Taking that as an invitation, Molly pads across the room in socked feet and sits on the sofa next to him. Her expression as she studies him is inquisitive - and determined. "So," she begins, "you're like...my brother's boyfriend."
Brian doesn't flinch, something that annoys him greatly when he realises. This whole thing has been a really fucking bad idea, but Brian's not about to be bested by a not-quite-teenage girl. "And you're his little sister."
Her nose wrinkles. "I'm not little."
It's like she's just waiting for him to insult her. "I don't know," he drawls, "your brother's not particularly tall. Could run in the family."
Thinking about it, she tips her head to one side. "I guess he's not very tall for a guy. But he's not as bad as Ricky Johnson - he's in my class and he's like five inches shorter than me. Everyone always makes fun of him, which kind of sucks really." She focuses back on him. "So what do you do?"
It's like the Taylor Inquisition. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" She clearly has trouble with the concept. "Don't you work or something?"
"No," he shrugs, "I got fired."
Her eyes widen. "What for?"
Brian ponders the best way to phrase it, and eventually goes with the least complicated, "Expressing my beliefs."
"Oh." Frowning, she leans against the back of the sofa. "Justin does that a lot. Is it hard?"
"Being gay," she reiterates, looking at him curiously, "is it hard?"
He blinks once, slowly, wondering how the fuck they got onto this subject and realising that he should never underestimate any Taylor. "So," he ignores the question completely, pushing himself up from the sofa, "you want pizza?"
Brian has no intention of touching any of the pizza. He needs to be seriously high before contemplating eating that many carbs and that much fat, but Molly persuades him to eat two slices. She chatters away the whole time about school and her friends and how she's secretly glad she doesn't see her dad anymore (apparently his new girlfriend is 'a real skank'), and Brian decides just to let her get on with it. He's become kind of an expert on tuning Justin out when he gets in a similar mood, and it's easy enough pretending to listen while trying to decide if selling off his DVD collection would be worth it. It's not like he has a DVD player anymore.
When they move to the kitchen table he teaches her how to play poker, using M&M's for chips, and when he lets her win a game she scoops her winnings up and shoves them all into her mouth.
Unable to stop himself, Brian laughs.
"You know," she tells him, after managing to successfully swallow that much chocolate and not choke to death, "Dad used to tell me all kinds of stuff about you."
Brian can imagine. Pervert. Animal. Sodomiser. "Oh?"
"Yeah," she shrugs, dealing out the cards, "but you're here right now and he's not. So I figure he was full of shit."
Brian thinks that he might be starting to like her.
Justin and Jennifer arrive at the house together, which makes Brian instantly suspicious that they planned the entire thing. Justin stinks of grease from the diner, though, and his mouth tastes of the chocolate milkshake he always drinks near the end of his shift (Brian can admit, if only to himself, that it's given him a new appreciation for chocolate milkshakes).
Jennifer thanks him enthusiastically for watching Molly and, though she knows better than to offer him any money, she insists on driving them back to the loft. So the four of them pour into the car, where Molly insists that Brian sits next to her in the back, and Brian's kind of glad this whole ordeal will be over soon.
When the car pulls up outside the loft, Molly is suddenly launching herself at Brian in the back of the car, throwing her arms around him. "'Bye, Brian!"
Confused, surprised, Brian pats her on the back twice before shoving her away as gently as he can. "Uh, bye Molly."
Giggling and blushing, Molly settles back onto her side of the car.
Brian's outside in record time, and he doesn't look back to the car as he makes a break for the building, because he's pretty damn sure he'll know what he'll find.
Justin sidles up to him with a stupid fucking grin on his face. "Aww, that's so cute, Brian! She totally has a-"
"Shut the fuck up," Brian orders, and stomps inside.