Fic: Queer as Folk: The Look 1/1
AN: One-shot quickie written for a challenge on Drabylon. Not actually posting it because it's so Brian/Michael-y. But people open to both might like it, as well as obviuosly Brian/Michael fans.
Justin's POV. (NO Justin-bashing, totally Justin <3 ) Future-fic. Cuteness all around.
I <3 you for comments. Seriously.
I'm looking. I'm always watching. It's a little pathetic. Married, famous, and still lusting after Brian Kinney. Love has nothing to do with anything. Brian Kinney is still the hottest man on earth.
So that's why I was staring. Leering. Thanking God or whomever for Stefan not being there, for staying home with baby Deborah during my visit home. The longer I could keep him from meeting Brian Kinney, the better. The last thing he needed was to see how much I played down Brian's...
Guh. Okay, I was leering. Staring at his shoulders tonight. In his fitted business shirts his shoulders look so wide. Damn. Damn.
Maybe I did wish Stefan had come with me. Now I was horny. And Stefan? ...Stefan had broad shoulders, too. I smiled at the thought.
Then I looked at his expression.
Intense. Thoughtful. His eyes stared, transfixed at the man sitting across from him at the dinner table, talking animatedly to his mother.
Justin noticed that the imprint around Michael's finger was gone. The wedding ring had been missing from his hand for six months now.
And Brian stared at Michael.
I should have known.
I wanted to laugh. It bubbled into my stomach and I hid a giggle behind my glass.
"What's so funny, sunshine?" Debbie asked, smiling from across the dinner table.
Michael, Lindsay, Melanie, Debbie, Carl, and their babies stared at me then.
Brian stared at Michael.
I blinked. "I'm happy for you," I said, my gaze never leaving Brian's face.
He finally blinked and lifted his head, looking at me with those too-intense hazel eyes.
I smiled. I really meant it. I really did.
He arched his right eyebrow. The left eyebrow usually meant he was pissed or depressed. Right eyebrow was acknowledgment. Understanding.
"Go for it," I said.
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Debbie snapped.
Michael beamed. "He's an artist, they don't have to make sense."
"Hey!" Lindsay exclaimed. "I make sense!"
Brian snorted. His gaze was back on Michael.
Gus reached across the table for the platter of lasagna, knocking over a glass of milk.
"Shit!" Melanie exclaimed, jumping up as milk poured into her lap.
Gus' eyes widened to saucers, then quickly returned to normal. "Whoops," he said. "Sorry." Polite, I thought, but aloof like his father.
"Sit down, I'll get it," I said as Deb began to stand. I moved to the oven and snatched a dish cloth from the handle, moving to the mess and wiping it up as Melanie went to the restroom to clean herself up.
Jenny squirmed from her chair and ran into the living room, ignoring her mother's cries for her to stay put. Independent. I liked that.
Brian still stared at Michael. Then he stood, shoving his chair back, walking towards the back door.
"Smoke break?" Debbie asked. "Be quick, there's still dessert!"
Brian groaned, rubbing his stomach, as if he had any fat on his body.
I waited. I watched.
As Brian opened the door he still held his gaze on Michael's head.
Michael turned and their gazes met. Michael grinned.
Brian took out a joint.
Michael laughed, shaking his head, eyes sparkling.
I sighed as they slipped through the door into the darkened back yard, Brian's arm slipped around Michael's shoulders.
"Sunshine?" Debbie whispered.
I turned to find everyone in movement, chasing children, cleaning up dishes, shouting and clammoring above the din. Debbie smiled at me, compassion radiating from her.
It was a little overwhelming.
"You okay?" she asked, glancing at the back door before looking back at me.
"Are they already...?" I asked.
"No, no," she said quickly. "But any day now. I can tell."
I smiled again. I couldn't help it. Jealousy coursed through my veins, but I shut my eyes and remembered Stefan, and Deborah, and our home, and our cat. "I can tell, too. It's all over his face."