#broojie

so…we’re all a lil sad (some more than others) about branjie but remember to support them and not to send them hate. I had this written up a couple of days ago but never posted bc I just didn’t have the time.

Also please let me know on spelling errors and grammar errors!

***

The first thing Brock felt as he woke up half asleep, was warmth - except it was the boiling type, the type to make you suffocate and need to kick the covers off in the middle of the night. He groaned, kicking his feet at the cover to move it away but as he did, an annoyed moan came from next to him.

“No, gimme the covers.” The voice has voiced out, voice gruff from sleeping.

Brock froze at the gruffness. It was scarily familiar and he hoped he wasn’t dreaming when he turned around. He felt a squeeze around his midsection and he realised that the big lump behind him under the covers (that got kicked back up and over the lump) was the reason he was sweating profusely.

“Jose?” Brock timidly called out. He hoped this moment wasn’t a dream and he hoped there wasn’t some stranger underneath the lump because then…that would be a nightmare.

The lump groaned again and removed it’s arm from Brock’s midsection and turned around, the back of the person now facing Brock.

“I got in like a couple of hours ago Brock, lemme sleep.” Soft snores then faintly told Brock that Jose was asleep.

He was ecstatic, sure, but he couldn’t jump on his boyfriend now. He looked over at the clock on the wall and had gotten up. All that dance training he had with waking up at stupid o'clock in the morning had now stuck with him in his daily routine. Wake up at 6am, think about life for a second before getting up and doing whatever needed to be done before hitting the sheets at 12am because work hated him not doing his job.

Brock sighed and stretched, grabbing his t-shirt and then fixing the duvet covers over Jose properly. He’d wake him up in 4 hours.

——–

Jose had dreamt of his love story fairy tale again. The type where it was all butterflies in stomachs and cliched cheesy lines over dinner. Where hands were held tightly, fingers interlocking. Kisses lying on the grass and looking at the stars and stupidly guessing constellations and planets. But then it all fades to soft white sheets, blinds drawn but the shadow of golden hour still sitting on him, skin moving against skin - not sexual but safe. The smell of coffee in the background and the warmth of a chest against his back as he nuzzles into the neck attached to the body behind him.

The butterflies are there, not the excited type but the in love type - the warm, safe and cared for type. Jose doesn’t want to wake up from this love story.

The dream starts to blur but he wants to hold on to it, he doesn’t want to leave.

“-ose.” An upset groan half answers.

“Jose.” The voice is softly waking him up, a hand rubbing his back in an up and down motion - it’s so safe.

Brock’s face is mere inches away from Jose’s and he smiles at the bright blue eyes softly saying “Good morning."

Jose sleepily gives a smile back, eyes still not wanting to open, just yet. Chapped lips meet his cheek with whispers of ,"I’ve made breakfast. Hurry and wake up before it gets cold.” Jose hums as an answer.

The warmth is gone and Jose now faces with a bitter coldness. The duvet covers are gone; they had fallen off the bed. And Brock is sitting in the kitchen, awaiting Jose. Jose reluctantly gets up, legs still stiff from the flight. He shoves his t-shirt back on before scrapping it and going to grab one of Brock’s. “He won’t mind.” Jose thought.

Opening the door, the smell of coffee and pancakes hit his nose and he sighed in relief as his stomach grumbled loudly. He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.

“Nice to finally see you babe.” Brock smiled across the table. Jose sheepishly smiled, “I should have woken you up but you know what I’m like. You looked peaceful."

A soft chuckle answered back, "Still. I almost got a fright when I felt someone’s arm across me. Could have been anyone."

Jose choked on the piece of the pancake he accidently inhaled as Brock spoke. "W-what?!” His face was red with tears in his eyes from the gagging. Brock had moved quickly when he started choking and rubbed his back as Jose managed to exhale it back out. “Babe, not that way. Don’t think that way. I meant it in a funny way, like a stupid drunk who forgot what apartment he lives in or something."

Jose flushed red in embarrassment and mumbled under his breath, "Bit hard when I have the spare key but okay.” Brock giggled at Jose.

Brock brought Jose in for a side hug before moving Jose to sit against his chest, arms wrapped around his stomach. “I missed you.” He whispered. Jose grabbed the hands at his stomach and interlocked his fingers with them before leaning back into Brock’s embrace. “Me too. So fucking much."

A small kiss to the back of Jose’s neck made him melt into Brock, soft sighs then being released as the kisses kept coming - getting bolder, wetter. Smacking sounds filling their little bubble with quiet moans. A nibble on that spot that makes Jose turn into a puddle of goo.

"Fuck."

Both Jose and Brock stood up, the taller pulling Jose towards the bedroom in almost a hurry but not quiet rushed. "I haven’t had my breakfast yet but I guess…I’ll just have you.” Jose rolled his eyes at the cliched line and matched the smirk Brock was holding on his face.

“Well hurry up and eat me then, Mary."

—–

Hushed whines fell from Jose’s lips as his legs were spread onto Brock’s shoulder’s as the latter kisses the inside of his thighs. The skittering of them ticklish but when Brock gets near his dick he whines for him to get closer, his hands on Brock’s head guiding him to give him some sort of pleasure. "Fuck, Brock. Please.” Jose could feel annoyance rise up in his stomach, the desperation of cumming large. Brock sniggers before taking Jose’s dick into his mouth. “Yes, fuck.” Jose grabs onto Brock’s head, slowly thrusting up into his mouth.

Taking the dick out of his mouth, Brock gave Jose a raised eyebrow, “If you want to cum, you’ll keep your ass on the bed.” He was unamused, knowing fine well Jose knew the rules. But Brock knew, he couldn’t blame him. There’s only so much pleasure you can receive when you’re faraway from each other - phone sex and sending nudes to each other can only do so much.

Brock sat back against the headboard of the bed, patting his lap indicating Jose to sit on it. A breathy sigh escaped his mouth as both his and Jose’s dicks rubbed against each other. Brock grabbed a hold of them both, rubbing each other together. He stopped for a second to grab the lube from the bedside table, squirting a lot onto both his and Jose’s cocks.

“Brock, please hurry up and fuck me. We’ve waited long enough for this shit."

Brock brought his slicked up fingers around to Jose’s ass, a finger running along his taint with slight pressure against his hole. His other hand was wrapped around Jose’s cock, rubbing ever so slowly and teasing the slit with his fingernail. Jose had his face hidden in Brock’s neck, breathy sighs and long, droned out moans loud in the taller’s ear. It was hot, so fucking hot and he wanted to hear it more, louder. Brock slid his finger inside Jose, curling it upwards. A hitch in Jose’s breath was heard before a deep whine spilled from between his lips.

"R-right fucking there.” Jose slowly rocked back onto the finger, one of his hands against Brock’s indicating to add another. Another digit slid inside, curled up towards Jose’s stomach with the first one and he whined louder, needier. Jose grinded down on the fingers, pleasure building quickly in his stomach.

“Fuck you’re so hot babe.” Brock groaned in his lover’s ear. The way Jose was grinding down onto his fingers, the way he whined he wanted more, the way he told him to fuck him already could have made Brock burst in a second. Brock slid his fingers out, pushing Jose down onto his back.

Grabbing the tube of lube again, Brock coated his dick in the lubricant. “Jesus fuck, how much are you going to be using?” Jose’s face had disbelief all over it, eyebrows furrowed in his signature “what the fuck” look. Brock nervously laughed it off.

“I mean it was an accident. I got too excited.” Jose smirked at that. “But it’s also been a month boo, so more lube equals a less painful ass fucking.” Brock smiled, pearly whites and all at that last word and Jose guffawed his usual gruff laugh.

“Hurry up then.”

Brock slipped inside Jose slowly, legs kept to each side of him. As soon as Jose was comfortable, the rest of the morning was history.

—–

"Babe…what time is it?“

"Around 2pm now.”

“Well fuck."

"Glad you loved it."

Jose turned his head to the side, an unamused frown on his face. "Not funny but I can’t disagree.” Jose grabbed Brock’s hand and linked his finger’s with his.

“So, you enjoy you’re breakfast I take it?” A cheeky grin sat on the smaller’s face, as Brock smiled softly. “Yeah it was the best buffet I had.”

“Buffet?”

Brock stifled a laugh, “Yep. An all you can eat one."

The last time Brock had seen Jose was before he left for his Europe mini tour - that was almost a month ago. And while communicating in different time zones was hard, they made sure to contact one another as much as often. It broke their hearts but Brock knew Jose would be back within the week, into his arms before going off again for work.

“I’m waiting on the flight so I should be in Nashville around 1am.” Jose yawned into the phone as Brock hummed. “I’ll probably be asleep by then haha. Sorry baby.”

“It’s alright,” Jose chuckled softly, “I still have the spare key and all.”

“Oh,” Brock stopped for a second, “Does this mean I get to wake up to your shark voice in the morning?” Jose could almost hear the snarky grin on Brock’s face. “Okay Mary, you think you’re funny?” Brock laughed into the phone, his heart light.

Goodbye’s and I love you’s were rushed over the phone as Jose ran towards the gate to catch his flight. He dreaded the hours of flying but the excitement of seeing Brock again had almost made time go slightly faster.

—–

As Brock hung up, he began to get ready for his gig at his local bar. He had already let the owners know he wasn’t going to be staying long, and that he’d do overtime the next time he was free. He was the best performer to rally in customers and sometimes, he didn’t mind the extra work and tips.

But there was always an underlying stress that came with performing and that was drunkards who thought drag queen’s were objects you could touch, harass and demand shit from. And while Brooke may have not many encounters with such, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be one of those nights. With the stress of not seeing Jose and lack of sleep most nights, Brooke had snapped at a handsy drunk and had ripped the hands of her to fling the man backwards on his ass. “Follow the fucking rules and don’t touch the drag queen!”

Brooke left earlier than expected. She stormed off the stage to untuck, de-drag and just become Brock again. Brock didn’t have to deal with handsy drunkards. Brock didn’t have to deal with the shouting at customers.

He caught an Uber home, and had sighed in relief at the safeness of it. Home was safe…but Jose was safer.

—–

Jose arrived in Nashville a little over 1am. Tired, jet-lagged but excitement ran through his body at the thought of being with Brock again; to just cuddle up next to him and fall asleep to his soft snores and beating heart. He hauled himself and his suitcase outside to the taxi rank. He paused for a while, breathing in the cold air as it shook his lungs. He missed this.

Jose flagged down a taxi before it was taken. His suitcase in the boot and himself in the car, warm air hitting him face front. A slight shiver ran down his spine at the thought of being in Brock’s warmth. A blush appeared on his face at other thoughts of being warm.

“Get your head our yo’ ass.” He had muttered to himself.

A grunt from the front of the taxi was heard and Jose had found himself outside Brock’s apartment.

“Thanks.” He paid the driver, took is suitcase out the boot and rushed inside, excitement coursing through his body. His heart was rushing with joy and he had to compose himself, quieten himself down before he opened the door.

The apartment was pitch black, quiet, save from the humming of the heater in the bedroom. Jose moves his suitcase to the side, toeing off his shoes and flinging his jacket on top of his suitcase. He tiptoes quietly into his boyfriend’s room. He sees Brock’s silhouette in the darkness, his back is turned but his breathing is soft.

Jose strips down to his briefs, lifting up the covers carefully and slotting himself in beside Brock. It’s warm, it’s home. Jose passes out quickly, unaware of Brock unconsciously turning to wrap his arms around him. Almost like muscle memory.