Fic: QaF: The Invisible E
You know how I said I hit a wall? Well, I did. But as I was resting in my bed, thinking about being happy that I'd finished Queer As Grease, how I was totally exhausted and felt like I'd been drained of all life force, that writing can be hard work, yadda yadda, this ficlet showed up (again) and was like, "Psst. Write me. Now. It'll be easy. Eeaaasyyy. I promise."
*sigh*
The Invisible E
He didn't see me. If it wasn't for his blond hair, I might not have noticed him either, but it always did shine like a beacon, attracting attention, glowing--just like him.
He had on that old blue jacket, the one he wore back when we were together. Navy. It brought out his eyes. I was surprised that he still had it. But I wasn't surprised at where I'd found him: the electronica section of Seamus' Backdoor Music, the hip, hot spot to buy music on Pittsburgh's own Liberty Avenue. It was so 'Justin' to be there and it was so my luck that he'd be there on the same day I had a meeting to arrange a signing the following week.
It'd been over a year since I'd last seen him and even longer since I'd been anywhere near Liberty Avenue.
But he stood there, flipping idly through the discs, picking out one at a time to look over the song titles or examine the cover art, before replacing it. I remained where I was, two rows down, pretending to look through the classical section, not sure whether or not I wanted to talk to him, or if I should just let him walk away--again.
There really wasn't anything to say anyway.
His hair was shorter. A lot shorter, but it looked like he might be growing it out. He looked good. He always had. He had that almost unreal beauty at times, equal parts ethereal and boyish. Angelic in appearance and utterly devilish inside. Not that I got to see a lot of his inner playfulness in our time together. He was unhappy with me and I could see that clearly, looking back on it all.
He looked pretty happy now, though. Content, I guess.
He pulled another disc from the display turned it over and smiled. He lifted his head and glanced around the store, looking for someone. I followed his eyes and knew before he even called out the name.
"Brian!" Justin beckoned with his whole hand.
I'd heard they'd gotten back together. I'd thought that it would have ended again by now, though. Justin was a fairly monogamous sort, generally speaking and in relative terms, and I knew that he'd always have trouble with Brian's whoring. Because that's what it was, to be perfectly blunt.
And I knew that Brian would never stop.
Even now, Brian Kinney was not perusing the country western section because he was a fan of Kenny Chesney, or Reba; no, it had everything to do with the hot, built, and hung stud in bicycle shorts drooling over the latest Hank Williams' Greatest Hits compilation.
Still, when Brian heard his name, he abandoned his feigned interest in the music, turned his back on the potential trick, and sauntered over to Justin. I admit that I felt unreasonably jealous when Brian wrapped his arms around him from behind.
"What've you got?"
Justin held the CD up for Brian to see, turning his own attention to the trick Brian had been cruising. "What've you got?"
I felt a surge of spiteful joy at the thought that Justin had left me to go back to this.
"Bicycle shorts. I'm guessing a nine inch cock. Great ass."
Justin leaned forward to get a better look at the guy and Brian took the CD from Justin's hand and inspected it. Justin stared at the guy for a long time and I could only imagine the jealousy that was seething within him.
Brian bopped him on the head with the disc. "So, do you want it?"
Justin wrinkled his nose. "He's kinda ugly, actually. Sure he's got a nice ass, good cock, but the face--"
"I was talking about the CD."
Justin blushed. "Oh."
"The youth of today, only interested in one thing," Brian mocked, studying the cover of the disc. "You know, they did a shit job in packaging this. I see nothing here that moves me to want to purchase it, product unheard."
"It's the Martian Overload. They do that song the new DJ at Babylon keeps playing. You know the one--" Justin demonstrated a small dance move, grinning playfully and grabbing the lapel of Brian's coat to pull him into a grind. "--we were dancing to last night?"
"Oh, that one," Brian said, nuzzling Justin's hair and then chucking his chin up for a kiss.
I realized that I wasn't even pretending to look at discs any more. I was pretty much just blatantly staring at them, seeing Justin the way I remembered him from the first day we met, from before things got complicated. Open, laughing, glowing. Yeah, he'd never been happy with me. I'd always been second choice. And then I was last choice. So he'd left.
Justin took the CD from Brian and pointed at the back of it, apparently indicating the number in question. Brian plucked it back from Justin's hands and motioned toward the sales counter.
Justin waved him on. "I'll meet you up there. I just want to check on one more thing."
Brian nodded and walked past the guy in bicycle shorts again, looking at the guy's ass, then glancing at his face. Brian turned to Justin, walking backwards; he wrinkled his nose and Justin laughed.
I kept my eyes on Brian, watching as he leaned against the check-out counter, flirting with the salesgirl as she rang up his purchase. I hadn't been paying attention and was unprepared to hear Justin's voice at my side.
"Hi."
I jumped. "Jesus, you startled me."
"Sorry." Justin smiled; he waited a moment to see if I would say anything else before continuing, "You're looking good." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and made a long appraisal. "Fame suits you."
"You're not looking bad yourself," I replied. I almost said, "Brian suits you," but I had too much pride.
"I saw you over here and just wanted to say hello. I've seen your discs; I know you're doing well. And I'm happy for you, Ethan. I just wanted you to know that I'm always glad to hear good things about you."
"Thank you, Justin. I feel the same."
Justin grinned. "Oh, I know you're always glad to hear good things about you." He gazed toward the counter where Brian was still chatting up the salesgirl. "I'd better go. Bye. Best of luck."
"You, too."
He slipped past without touching me and slid under Brian's arm as the clerk handed over the bag. Brian passed it to Justin and steered him toward the exit. I heard him ask as he held the door open, "What'd Ian have to say?"
Justin pulled his new CD out of the bag, looking at the cover again. "Not much. So, you really think this is shitty cover art?"
And he was gone. Again.
And, for some reason, I felt invisible.
*sigh*
The Invisible E
He didn't see me. If it wasn't for his blond hair, I might not have noticed him either, but it always did shine like a beacon, attracting attention, glowing--just like him.
He had on that old blue jacket, the one he wore back when we were together. Navy. It brought out his eyes. I was surprised that he still had it. But I wasn't surprised at where I'd found him: the electronica section of Seamus' Backdoor Music, the hip, hot spot to buy music on Pittsburgh's own Liberty Avenue. It was so 'Justin' to be there and it was so my luck that he'd be there on the same day I had a meeting to arrange a signing the following week.
It'd been over a year since I'd last seen him and even longer since I'd been anywhere near Liberty Avenue.
But he stood there, flipping idly through the discs, picking out one at a time to look over the song titles or examine the cover art, before replacing it. I remained where I was, two rows down, pretending to look through the classical section, not sure whether or not I wanted to talk to him, or if I should just let him walk away--again.
There really wasn't anything to say anyway.
His hair was shorter. A lot shorter, but it looked like he might be growing it out. He looked good. He always had. He had that almost unreal beauty at times, equal parts ethereal and boyish. Angelic in appearance and utterly devilish inside. Not that I got to see a lot of his inner playfulness in our time together. He was unhappy with me and I could see that clearly, looking back on it all.
He looked pretty happy now, though. Content, I guess.
He pulled another disc from the display turned it over and smiled. He lifted his head and glanced around the store, looking for someone. I followed his eyes and knew before he even called out the name.
"Brian!" Justin beckoned with his whole hand.
I'd heard they'd gotten back together. I'd thought that it would have ended again by now, though. Justin was a fairly monogamous sort, generally speaking and in relative terms, and I knew that he'd always have trouble with Brian's whoring. Because that's what it was, to be perfectly blunt.
And I knew that Brian would never stop.
Even now, Brian Kinney was not perusing the country western section because he was a fan of Kenny Chesney, or Reba; no, it had everything to do with the hot, built, and hung stud in bicycle shorts drooling over the latest Hank Williams' Greatest Hits compilation.
Still, when Brian heard his name, he abandoned his feigned interest in the music, turned his back on the potential trick, and sauntered over to Justin. I admit that I felt unreasonably jealous when Brian wrapped his arms around him from behind.
"What've you got?"
Justin held the CD up for Brian to see, turning his own attention to the trick Brian had been cruising. "What've you got?"
I felt a surge of spiteful joy at the thought that Justin had left me to go back to this.
"Bicycle shorts. I'm guessing a nine inch cock. Great ass."
Justin leaned forward to get a better look at the guy and Brian took the CD from Justin's hand and inspected it. Justin stared at the guy for a long time and I could only imagine the jealousy that was seething within him.
Brian bopped him on the head with the disc. "So, do you want it?"
Justin wrinkled his nose. "He's kinda ugly, actually. Sure he's got a nice ass, good cock, but the face--"
"I was talking about the CD."
Justin blushed. "Oh."
"The youth of today, only interested in one thing," Brian mocked, studying the cover of the disc. "You know, they did a shit job in packaging this. I see nothing here that moves me to want to purchase it, product unheard."
"It's the Martian Overload. They do that song the new DJ at Babylon keeps playing. You know the one--" Justin demonstrated a small dance move, grinning playfully and grabbing the lapel of Brian's coat to pull him into a grind. "--we were dancing to last night?"
"Oh, that one," Brian said, nuzzling Justin's hair and then chucking his chin up for a kiss.
I realized that I wasn't even pretending to look at discs any more. I was pretty much just blatantly staring at them, seeing Justin the way I remembered him from the first day we met, from before things got complicated. Open, laughing, glowing. Yeah, he'd never been happy with me. I'd always been second choice. And then I was last choice. So he'd left.
Justin took the CD from Brian and pointed at the back of it, apparently indicating the number in question. Brian plucked it back from Justin's hands and motioned toward the sales counter.
Justin waved him on. "I'll meet you up there. I just want to check on one more thing."
Brian nodded and walked past the guy in bicycle shorts again, looking at the guy's ass, then glancing at his face. Brian turned to Justin, walking backwards; he wrinkled his nose and Justin laughed.
I kept my eyes on Brian, watching as he leaned against the check-out counter, flirting with the salesgirl as she rang up his purchase. I hadn't been paying attention and was unprepared to hear Justin's voice at my side.
"Hi."
I jumped. "Jesus, you startled me."
"Sorry." Justin smiled; he waited a moment to see if I would say anything else before continuing, "You're looking good." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and made a long appraisal. "Fame suits you."
"You're not looking bad yourself," I replied. I almost said, "Brian suits you," but I had too much pride.
"I saw you over here and just wanted to say hello. I've seen your discs; I know you're doing well. And I'm happy for you, Ethan. I just wanted you to know that I'm always glad to hear good things about you."
"Thank you, Justin. I feel the same."
Justin grinned. "Oh, I know you're always glad to hear good things about you." He gazed toward the counter where Brian was still chatting up the salesgirl. "I'd better go. Bye. Best of luck."
"You, too."
He slipped past without touching me and slid under Brian's arm as the clerk handed over the bag. Brian passed it to Justin and steered him toward the exit. I heard him ask as he held the door open, "What'd Ian have to say?"
Justin pulled his new CD out of the bag, looking at the cover again. "Not much. So, you really think this is shitty cover art?"
And he was gone. Again.
And, for some reason, I felt invisible.