Always Mine: For One Night
Story Info
Title: Always Mine
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Era: 2005- (after QAF)
Genre: Drama, angst
Rating: M / FRM
Summary: Imaginary snippets of what might have happened after the fifth season. Short glimpses of life and love on Liberty Avenue - and the world around it.
In a way connected with “Briefly Yours”.
Warnings: Slash, language, references to violence and underage sex, death, drug abuse, drunkenness, (and a lot else not perhaps mentioned here).
Disclaimer: The characters, original story, and the places belong to the makers, creators, and producers of the series - Russell T. Davies, Ron Cowen, Daniel Lipman, Showtime, and Showcase. No harm intended; no profit made. I’m just borrowing.
Beta: Mythra (mythras-fire)
~ ~ ~
For one night’s sake. That was what Brian kept telling himself as he threw objects of uttermost necessity into a suitcase. He had less than an hour to get to the airport, and he was already late according to his carefully planned schedule. His latest client had caused a delay, taking more of his time than expected, and they hadn’t even ended up in the bathroom fucking.
This was what happened when one didn’t tell of his plans to another soul, Brian knew, and rushed to the bathroom to get the rest of the needed items. There wasn’t much he would need, though, and that was what kept him from missing his flight altogether.
The entire journey to Dallas was spent thinking, over and over again, if this was a smart move. But he couldn’t turn away now; not when he was so close to his goal.
After the plane landed Brian took a cab from the terminal, gave the driver the address of his hotel and sat back, trying to calm down. He had used all his connections to confirm he was in the right hotel. Still a small voice of doubt kept nagging at the back of his mind: what if… He told his mind to shut up for the rest of the drive. Brian Kinney didn’t worry about such things.
He was shown to his room in the hotel whose standards were far from his usual demands. “For one night,” Brian told himself again, aloud this time. He laid his bag on the bed and unzipped it. He only had a few hours to kill, and he had to shower and perhaps get something to eat in that time.
Brian’s lunch in the restaurant of the hotel was spent poking at his food, eyes staring off into the distance. Eventually he returned to his room, took a shower, and put on clothes he had laid out earlier. The clock kept ticking and his hands shook when he fastened his tie, eyes almost wild as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Brian shook his head, checked his outfit once more, and then called a cab.
He arrived at his destination almost twenty minutes late, thanks to being stuck in traffic because of a car crash somewhere miles ahead. He showed his invitation to the doorman, and was allowed in with a polite nod. He had used quite a lot of time and effort to get his hands on this invitation-card, and at the moment he hoped it would pay off.
When he entered the crowded gallery, it was apparent the event had already begun. With a pang of remorse Brian walked past the crowd, completely ignoring the waitresses with drinks. There would be time for drinks later, when he would really need them. His eyes sought one thing only, but when he found his target, he froze. What now? What will I say? ‘Hi, I decided to drop by your first grand opening!’ It sounded lame in his head. Maybe he should say nothing at all. Speech and explanations were overrated anyway, and there was no reason at all to be nervous.
The problem was solved as the target of his attention suddenly noticed him. For a moment they just stared at each other before the other man strode right up to Brian.
Surprise had shifted into a dazzling, warm smile by the time Justin approached him. “You missed my speech.”
“Traffic was a bitch,” Brian mumbled.
“You’re here now.” An unimportant but soft reply followed with a step forward into Brian’s personal space.
Their eyes met, breaths mimicked a similar rhythm and before they knew it, their lips came into contact, reluctant to let go once joined. It was nothing like their usual kisses: the heat was still there, but it was overpowered by reconnection and love that had been held for too long.
Out in the crowd someone called Justin’s name, and they broke apart with regret. “You better go,” Brian said, seeing an important-looking man coming towards them.
“Come on, then,” Justin replied and took Brian’s hand, dragging him along before the older man got a say. “Murphy, this is Brian. Brian, my promoter Murphy,” Justin introduced the men.
Murphy looked shocked behind his huge, thick-rimmed glasses, staring at Brian as if he was seeing some kind of endangered animal. “A pleasure,” the promoter said at last, reaching out with his hand.
“Likewise,” Brian replied, taking the offered hand into a firm but brief shake.
In the meanwhile a woman who looked - and talked - like a reporter had taken Justin aside, her intelligent eyes shining as she listened to the young artist go on about something. As a question followed, and an even longer answer after that, Murphy turned his attention to Brian.
“It’s almost surreal to finally meet you in person.” Brian gave the other a surprised, slightly confused look. The promoter smiled. “He talks a lot about you - especially if you know how to listen to him. You’re… well, not exactly a ‘muse’, but definitely something that has affected his life much; someone who’s important and dear to him.”
Brian frowned, glanced at Justin, and honestly didn’t know how to feel about all this. Should he be happy, grateful, impressed, angry, or hurt - or just uncaring because it was just fine with him either way? All publicity was good publicity…
Murphy rescued him from deciding. “It’s not like your name would hang around his neck. I just have been fortunate to work with young Justin here, for quite some time, and I have learned a thing or two from him in the process.”
“That’s nice,” Brian finally said, still not quite comfortable with the idea. “He’s quite a talent,” he added then, trying not to appear rude to the other man. It wasn’t as if he had a problem with being a ‘known man’. His and Justin’s relationship merely was something he usually didn’t advertise.
“That he is,” Murphy replied, grinning as a breathless but satisfied-looking Justin returned to them. “That was the fourth one tonight. I think it will be safe to assume that at least one of them will be writing an article about you and your work.”
“Fifth,” Justin corrected, stepping over to stand right next to Brian. “And they have all promised to put at least little something in their next issue.”
“You know the promises,” Brian put in.
“Allow me to be at least slightly optimistic on my big night,” Justin nudged his partner, receiving a light swat on the ass in return. Justin turned his head to no doubt snap something clever at Brian, but the older man made his move first, locking their lips into a heated kiss. Justin fought for dominance for a while, but in the end he yielded and allowed Brian to have his way with him. Pleased, Brian commenced his advances on a new level, luring the younger man into an equally matched battle of tongues.
When Murphy cleared his throat after a while as a cue for them to stop, Brian pulled back and carefully drew his thumb over Justin’s shining lips to remove the excess wetness from them. The move was met with a dazzling Sunshine-smile. For another minute they just looked at each other, until interrupted.
“I’m afraid the night is still young, and Justin’s bound to go do his share of ‘meet and greet’,” Murphy reminded his artist, drawing a deep look of disappointment from Justin’s face.
“Hey, no faces like that,” Brian chastised. “You go do what you do best - charm people out of their wits - and I’ll go check the catering, and perhaps some art, too, as I’m here,” he concluded with a lopsided smirk.
“Is that really what I do best?” Justin whispered as he pushed against and past Brian.
“At least that’s what meets the public eye,” the older man decided, reaching over to leave a brief kiss in the blonde hair before Justin disappeared into the crowd.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully in Brian’s case. He kept sipping champagne and wine, walking around the gallery. His eyes remained glued on the walls surprisingly well, rather than sliding over to the possible hot specimens in the room. He would save that for Justin. Oh the sacrifices I’m willing to make, just for one night…
He left the idea hanging, moving on to the next painting. For some reason, he could tell it was Justin’s, even if had he not known it in advance. Perhaps he had seen too much of his art - or ‘enough’, as most would say. Instead he decided it was about spending such a large amount of time with Justin himself. Brian could see much of those times reflected in the drawings and paintings on the walls. In some portraits of people and places, he could see things he knew. Yet there was not a single picture of him. He had gone over the whole exhibition four times, and as he stood again by the first painting, he felt almost betrayed.
“Something missing?”
“Yes. Me,” Brian said, turning to look at the artist himself.
Justin frowned, then looked at Brian with a peculiar look, as if to check if he was joking. “And if there was a picture of you here, what would you do?”
“I would tell someone to take it the fuck off the wall.” Justin smiled, teeth peeking from between his lips. “But you have pictures of me, then?” Brian asked in more serious manner.
“I do,” Justin confirmed as if it was a miracle, staring at the painting before them. “I just… I don’t really want anyone to see them, I guess. They’re too…”
“Personal.”
“Something like that.”
“Would you show me?”
Justin seemed to consider this, his eyes slowly moving to Brian, who was openly staring at him. “Maybe. If you want.” A cautious answer that made Brian smile.
“Perhaps I want to see the glory of my beauty and youth one more time, brought to life by your capable hands,” Brian announced with a dramatic sigh.
“Fuck it. You will always be beautiful,” Justin replied almost harshly. Their eyes met, locked, and their bodies were drawn closer as if by unseen strings. Just before they came into a full contact, Justin blinked and shook himself. “The party’s almost over. I should go to find Murphy, say some goodbyes, and then we could go…” He left the line hanging, probably waiting to see what Brian would decide.
“I have a hotel room. I’ll get us a cab while you say your farewells.” If Justin was surprised, he hid it with a look of euphoric joy. With nothing more than a wave of his hand, he was gone again, leaving Brian to deal on his own. Not that Brian really whined. He went outside, lit a smoke, and stared into the distance deep in thought. Only, he wasn’t thinking. His brain could not function beyond Justin’s smile, smell, taste… The brief touch of skin that Brian had stolen tonight, and which now made his body tingle. It had been a long time since he had felt this anxious about sex.
Approximately ten minutes later Justin appeared in the lobby with Murphy in tow, and Brian set his eyes on catching them a ride. By the time the blonde got out, Brian had a cab waiting. Without as much as a glance they climbed inside. Justin cast Brian a long look when he gave the driver their address, but said nothing. Only when they arrived at the hotel and stood before the door of Brian’s room did Justin speak his mind.
“You do know that my room is the one next to this?” Blue eyes were full of question, yet answered to the mirth in Brian’s own.
“Of course. You have no idea how much this cost me,” the older man declared.
“Not as much as your usual rooms,” Justin laughed.
“Smartass,” Brian growled, slapping the ass before him, then opened the door for them. “Make yourself at home,” he noted as Justin bent down to take off his shoes. The fine curve of young male body was tempting, and Brian couldn’t resist in the long run. His hands, as if they had a will of their own, moved to trace Justin’s behind, his mind picturing what he could not see, but only feel at the moment.
“Brian,” Justin began with a petulant voice, fighting not to topple over.
Taking pity on him, Brian moved his hands enough to catch the small waist and urged the other to stand up. His lips found a smooth neck, fingers wandering down to undo Justin’s belt.
“You really are in a hurry,” the centre of his attention noted. “Slow down, will you?”
Brian froze for a moment, then set out to release Justin from his clothing with renewed vigour. “One night,” he mumbled to Justin’s skin. “I have to fly back to Pitts in the morning. I only have one night.”
That seemed to do the trick. Justin swirled around, drew Brian’s head down and locked their mouths into a deep kiss that left nothing unsaid. Brian’s hands were no longer the only ones fighting with the clothes.
- - -
The world was grey on the outside. The sun wasn’t going to rise for a few hours still, and even the sound of traffic seemed far away. The room was filled with silence, occasionally disturbed by a sound coming from somewhere beyond its walls.
Brian’s hand moved in slow, random patterns; down Justin’s back, over the swell of his ass, tracing down along the smooth thighs, then back up again, feeling ribs move with steady breaths. Silky blonde hair was spilled on the mattress, the blue eyes opening and sliding back shut as Justin kept dozing in and out of sleep.
Years ago Brian would have been either up and about at this hour, or busy fucking Justin into said mattress - whether the other man was awake and participating or not. Yet this morning he was happy to simply lay there, touch his lover, and just… be. He recognized the change in himself but gave the accusing, repulsed thoughts no room for attention. He was happy like this. This was about ‘now’, and not what had been before, even if it meant he was getting old. He just didn’t care.
He had been ready to make a lot of effort for one single night. Now it seemed he was willing to sacrifice a lot for the morning after. Never mind his pride. Justin was warm and pleased in his arms, and that was all that mattered, really.
A small sound issued from between Justin’s lips, and the relaxed body shifted a little closer to Brian. The older man couldn’t keep from smiling, or from bowing his head to place a long, tender kiss to the smooth cheek. Justin sighed, shifted a little more, and was asleep again in a matter of seconds. Brian didn’t blame him: the previous day must have been both nerve-wracking and tiring for the young artist.
He lay still for a moment, Brian continuing to draw lazy circles on the pale skin. After half an hour passed, the brunette started to divide his attention between his sleeping lover and the room. His eyes traced the path their clothes had left from the doorway to the bed. A piece of paper just beside the bed caught his attention, and the longer he stared at it, the greater the temptation grew.
Finally, unable to resist, Brian carefully got up from the bed, picked up the paper and then returned to his earlier position. He carefully unfolded the note, then frowned slightly when his eyes met Justin’s familiar handwriting. After the first few lines he figured this was the blonde’s speech from last night.
Smiling, he reached out with one hand to pet the tousled hair of his sleeping partner, his mind fully absorbed in the words.
This evening is special to me, so thank you for coming.
A few years ago I would have not believed this could be happening: my solo exhibition. To be honest, I’m scared about the whole idea of it, but here we are. The road up till now hasn’t been easy. Roughly five years ago, I was ready to give up art altogether, thinking that the sacrifice would fix my life, and help those around me.
I came to my senses, though, thanks to my friends and family.
Not long after that, doctors told me I would never draw again, owing to an accident I had. I believed them. I was angry, tired, defeated. But again I was pointed in the right direction by those who love me, and think the best of me. I’m eternally grateful for that. If it was not for them, I would not be standing here today giving this speech and seeing so many dreams of mine coming to life.
Yet most of all, there is one person I owe more to than everyone else. He taught me things about myself that I had never known. He showed me nothing but plain honesty, and as much as he might have also hurt my feelings along the way, I respect and thank him all the more for it now.
He taught me the true depth and meaning of love, devotion, and passion. He helped me to become what I am now, today, and even if he’s not here tonight, I know he would be proud. Thank you, Brian.
For a moment Brian just stared at the paper, his hand forgetting its steady motion on Justin’s head. With a curious look on his face the blonde - now very much awake - turned to look over his shoulder at what the other man was doing.
“Do you like my speech?”
“Did you really say all this?” Brian asked, while his eyes were still nailed to the final line, unstable to depart from it.
“Yes,” Justin replied slowly, turning a little more. “Though originally I had ‘I love you, Brian’ attached to the end. I left that out, knowing you wouldn’t like it, and all who needed to know could read it between the lines; because in fact I truly deeply love you.” He sealed the words with a kiss to Brian’s cheek.
“I love you, too,” came a silent, almost forced reply. Brian still couldn’t tell how he felt about this whole melodramatic shit that was supposed to be a speech. It touched him somewhere deep, though. Justin knew what he meant, anyway; the blonde didn’t offer those words often, and they still held an eerily holy meaning.
“How long do you have?” Justin asked.
“Not enough time.”
“Well, don’t waste it then,” Justin smiled.
Brian didn’t. And when he turned Justin to lay with his back towards him, searched for a condom, and pushed into the warm body he loved, he knew he would do this again.
For one night’s sake.
The End
Story Info...