Showtime's QaF Fanfic Contest: Topic #1
Michael couldn't believe it. He was 40. Turning 30 was bad enough, but this was way worse. He was 40, and had just broken up with yet another father figure. Now he would have to be his own father figure. He wanted to die.
"Mikey, you're 40 now, I think it's time I told you something," Brian said, sipping on his cola, having gotten sober 5 years prior.
"What is it, Brian? Are you going to make some ageist statement about my life being over?"
Brian smiled. He had gotten so much kinder than he was at 30. He was still hot, but now he was also serene. "No. I think the kidding is over for tonight. But there's something I wanted to tell you for a long, long time. And I can't hold it in any longer."
"Okay," Mikey said, leaning closer to Brian. "Shoot."
"David is dead," Brian delivered without warning.
Mikey furrowed his eyebrows for a few seconds of confusion, and then his features softened, giving way to a blank expression. "David," he repeated, "M-my David?"
"He was never yours," Brian said, matter-of-factly.
"Brian!" Mikey said with exasperation. "Are you talking about--"
"Yes," Brian cut him off. "The good ol' doctor. Dead."
"Wow." Mikey blinked a few times, his eyes lingering away from Brian. "When did it happen? How did you find out?"
"When Ben was in the hospital...right before he...died," Brian said, with his characteristic tact.
Mikey turned over to face Brian once more. "But that was six years ago!"
Brian nodded. "I got the call at your place when I went to get your change of clothes. Someone who said he was David's son."
"Hank?"
"Yeah. That was his name." Brian sipped on his soda again. "Said the doc wanted to see you."
"HOLY SHIT!" Mikey's eyes widened. "And you're telling me this now? What the hell did you say to him?"
"I took care of it for you, Mikey." Brian rolled his eyes. "I told him you were on a European vacation with your boyfriend, and that you'd probably not want to be disturbed."
"WHAT?" Mikey sprang up from his seat and his yell managed to turn a few heads at the bar. "Mind your own fucking business!" He said, waving his hand at the curious stares. "How could you do that! You had no right!"
"Sit down," Brian said quietly. He pulled Michael by the hand, forcing him down on the stool. "It's not like you were gonna go. You couldn't leave Ben."
"Well...no," Mikey said, his voice trembling. "But still! You should have told me! I needed to know!"
"I know." Brian nodded. "I was probably wrong not to tell you. I thought it was the right thing at the time." He shrugged. "I'm telling you now. Does that count?"
"You're a fucking asshole!" Mikey said, throwing a few dollars on the bar. "You're *still* a fucking asshole!" he repeated and stood up, not bothering to give Brian a second look. He walked out of the bar.
Brian looked into his glass, filled with dark, and now warm, soda. He set the glass on the counter and pushed it away, letting out a disgusted sigh. Mikey's beer bottle was still three-quarters full, fogged-glass covered in condensation, cool to the touch. He gave the bar tender a crooked half-smile and took a swig of the beer.
"Happy birthday, Mikey," he said softly.
-fin-