First Meetings
Title: First Meetings
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Pairing/Characters: All main cast, Brian/Justin
Author: knittedshadow
Rating: adult
Words: 887
Description: When the father first lays eyes on his son he is delighted, absolutely fucking delighted. There is just something about the idea of bringing a new life into the world that tickles his toes.
Challenge: None
Disclaimer: Cowlip just won't hand over the QAF cast to me however many times I offer them money. Or Gus.
First Meetings
Jack
When the father first lays eyes on his son he is delighted, absolutely fucking delighted. There is just something about the idea of bringing a new life into the world that tickles his toes. And a son, a sonny boy to kick a ball in the garden, to talk about sports and to teach to be a gentleman. He stands there in the hospital room, beaming down proudly at the sleeping baby in his arms, a baby who has wisps of dark brown hair and tiny fighter's fists just like his own.
And as he lifts his son to his chest to feel that tiny heart beat, he never imagines that, seven years from now, the sleeping boy will need those fighter's fists, when his father drowns himself in drink and hits him for the first time.
Michael
Fifth school in as many years. Walking down new hallways, surrounded by new faces. And Brian loves it. Everyone wants to make friends with the new kid when, at the age of eleven, he wears sunglasses in rainy weather and smokes stolen cigarettes round the back of the gym. And when Brian walks into his first lesson of the day all eyes are on him because every child wants to see who he will decide to sit next to.
Every child that is, except for the boy on the back row. The boy on the back row is short and skinny, he has tufty black hair and a Superman T-shirt. The boy on the back row does not think the new kid will decide to sit next to him. But Brian does, sliding onto the seat and giving him a lazy, melting smile. And at recess the boy cannot believe his luck when Brian slings an arm around his shoulders and whispers in his ear.
When the boy goes home that night he lies in bed and dreams that Superman has a melting smile and wears sunglasses in rainy weather.
Lindsay
He crashes drunkenly through the door, already bored of the college party going on downstairs and looking for a place to comfortably black out in. The room he's entered is dark but occupied. A girl with blond hair and coal eyes sits in the middle of the floor. Her clothes are a little tangled and her make-up is a little smudged and even through the drink and double vision, when she turns her head, he can make out tear stains on her cheek.
Not wanting the drama he is preparing to leave and settle on passing out in the corridor, when she moves, getting up and leaning out of the bedroom's only window, letting cool night air dry tears she can hardly bear to let fall.
"I'm glad you're drunk," she whispers, "You won't remember that you saw me cry."
Brian decides then, that if he has to fall in love with anyone, he would like to fall in love with her.
Ted and Emmett
It's so early in the day that it makes Brian's head hurt. The kind of morning that's so bright and cheery that all he wants to do is crawl back in bed, drink off his hangover and wait for the night time. But instead he's been propped up in the Diner and forced to drink one of those godawful Morning After Milkshakes. He is not happy.
So far, despite the Diner being at its busiest, his red-rimmed glares have kept the seats around him unoccupied. That is, until a tall man in the most glittery polo neck Brian's ever seen, clearly not bothered by glares or scowls, slides in next to him, hurriedly followed by a much shorter man, who flicks nervous looks in Brian's direction and blinks constantly.
Brian considers for a moment the satisfaction he would feel at smashing a salt shaker over one of their heads and yelling at the whole room to leave him the fuck alone. But that glittery top is making his head hurt and he decides it's too much effort. Plus the movement might just tip the delicate scales between hurling and not hurling and the Diner's floor is newly washed.
So Brian does not yell at them and his friendship with the two men begins.
Justin
Young. Blond. Cock. Ass. Shaking hands and clenched toes. Breathy half-gasps in a spinning room. Legs over shoulders and lips bruising. He knows there's too much shit in his system, poison spreading like heat but all he can think of is the body beneath him, moving as he moves.
And when he wakes the next morning he can't remember how he met this boy.
Gus
When Brian first sees his child, properly sees him, through eyes that aren't glazed with drink or drugs, all he can think of is that his son is gorgeous, fucking gorgeous. After all, he's got great genes. And holding him in his arms he can't help but feel that splice of pride. His son, his own sonny boy, to teach how to down a shot or roll a joint. Whose wisps of dark hair and fighter's fists are just like his own.
And when he sees those tiny balled up hands he promises with all his heart that he will never hurt his son. And, unlike his father, he will keep his word.
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Pairing/Characters: All main cast, Brian/Justin
Author: knittedshadow
Rating: adult
Words: 887
Description: When the father first lays eyes on his son he is delighted, absolutely fucking delighted. There is just something about the idea of bringing a new life into the world that tickles his toes.
Challenge: None
Disclaimer: Cowlip just won't hand over the QAF cast to me however many times I offer them money. Or Gus.
First Meetings
Jack
When the father first lays eyes on his son he is delighted, absolutely fucking delighted. There is just something about the idea of bringing a new life into the world that tickles his toes. And a son, a sonny boy to kick a ball in the garden, to talk about sports and to teach to be a gentleman. He stands there in the hospital room, beaming down proudly at the sleeping baby in his arms, a baby who has wisps of dark brown hair and tiny fighter's fists just like his own.
And as he lifts his son to his chest to feel that tiny heart beat, he never imagines that, seven years from now, the sleeping boy will need those fighter's fists, when his father drowns himself in drink and hits him for the first time.
Michael
Fifth school in as many years. Walking down new hallways, surrounded by new faces. And Brian loves it. Everyone wants to make friends with the new kid when, at the age of eleven, he wears sunglasses in rainy weather and smokes stolen cigarettes round the back of the gym. And when Brian walks into his first lesson of the day all eyes are on him because every child wants to see who he will decide to sit next to.
Every child that is, except for the boy on the back row. The boy on the back row is short and skinny, he has tufty black hair and a Superman T-shirt. The boy on the back row does not think the new kid will decide to sit next to him. But Brian does, sliding onto the seat and giving him a lazy, melting smile. And at recess the boy cannot believe his luck when Brian slings an arm around his shoulders and whispers in his ear.
When the boy goes home that night he lies in bed and dreams that Superman has a melting smile and wears sunglasses in rainy weather.
Lindsay
He crashes drunkenly through the door, already bored of the college party going on downstairs and looking for a place to comfortably black out in. The room he's entered is dark but occupied. A girl with blond hair and coal eyes sits in the middle of the floor. Her clothes are a little tangled and her make-up is a little smudged and even through the drink and double vision, when she turns her head, he can make out tear stains on her cheek.
Not wanting the drama he is preparing to leave and settle on passing out in the corridor, when she moves, getting up and leaning out of the bedroom's only window, letting cool night air dry tears she can hardly bear to let fall.
"I'm glad you're drunk," she whispers, "You won't remember that you saw me cry."
Brian decides then, that if he has to fall in love with anyone, he would like to fall in love with her.
Ted and Emmett
It's so early in the day that it makes Brian's head hurt. The kind of morning that's so bright and cheery that all he wants to do is crawl back in bed, drink off his hangover and wait for the night time. But instead he's been propped up in the Diner and forced to drink one of those godawful Morning After Milkshakes. He is not happy.
So far, despite the Diner being at its busiest, his red-rimmed glares have kept the seats around him unoccupied. That is, until a tall man in the most glittery polo neck Brian's ever seen, clearly not bothered by glares or scowls, slides in next to him, hurriedly followed by a much shorter man, who flicks nervous looks in Brian's direction and blinks constantly.
Brian considers for a moment the satisfaction he would feel at smashing a salt shaker over one of their heads and yelling at the whole room to leave him the fuck alone. But that glittery top is making his head hurt and he decides it's too much effort. Plus the movement might just tip the delicate scales between hurling and not hurling and the Diner's floor is newly washed.
So Brian does not yell at them and his friendship with the two men begins.
Justin
Young. Blond. Cock. Ass. Shaking hands and clenched toes. Breathy half-gasps in a spinning room. Legs over shoulders and lips bruising. He knows there's too much shit in his system, poison spreading like heat but all he can think of is the body beneath him, moving as he moves.
And when he wakes the next morning he can't remember how he met this boy.
Gus
When Brian first sees his child, properly sees him, through eyes that aren't glazed with drink or drugs, all he can think of is that his son is gorgeous, fucking gorgeous. After all, he's got great genes. And holding him in his arms he can't help but feel that splice of pride. His son, his own sonny boy, to teach how to down a shot or roll a joint. Whose wisps of dark hair and fighter's fists are just like his own.
And when he sees those tiny balled up hands he promises with all his heart that he will never hurt his son. And, unlike his father, he will keep his word.