(no subject)
The Wisdom to Know the Difference
Sydney Alexis
Just watching how Tucker comforted his mother he knew it was more than just a passing fling.
Maurice
Tucker wasn’t the first of Jennifer Taylor’s serious relationships. In fact, he was the fourth. Not that Justin was counting, but, if he was, he’d label Maurice as the first.
The first time he’d heard the name Maurice, Justin was post-Ethan, pre-Brian. His source? Molly Taylor, chatterbox extraordinaire.
The girl had spent the first half of the conversation talking at length about the great drama that was junior high while Justin half listened. Thirty minutes of ‘uh huhs’ and he was ready to make his excuses when the littlest Taylor had casually mentioned that Maurice was coming over for dinner before her piano recital. Trying to push Molly for details, he listened to the girl fall into a gale of girlie giggles before hanging up on him.
Justin sat on the couch in Daphne’s tiny apartment staring at the phone in disbelief. He didn’t know what pissed him off more--that his kid sister had just hung up on him or the fact that he had been the one to teach her that little trick.
By the time he’d finally gotten in contact with his mother, The Great Maurice had been reassigned to his company’s Syracuse office and Jennifer Taylor was on the rebound.
Russell
Russell was in the picture for four months before Jennifer invited Justin over for dinner. Post-Stockwell and $100,000 plus in debt, neither he nor Brian put up much of a fight when invites for free, home cooked meals came. Justin, however, suspected Brian was more interested in meeting this Russell Jen had been gushing about.
They arrived on time and Justin was barely through the door when his mother introduced him to Russell. Justin instantly began eyeing Russell. Tall, with a swimmer’s build, black hair, blue eyes, Justin had a nagging suspicion he’d seen Russell somewhere before.
And then Brian walked through the doorway.
Justin took one look at Russell’s wide-eyed stare at being introduced to Brian and he knew without seeing Brian’s tongue in cheek response that Russell was more than familiar with his partner. The clincher though? As Brian shook Russell’s outstretched hand, he asked:
“So, Russell, have you ‘seen the light?’”
Jennifer’s eyes shot from Russell’s shocked expression, Brian’s amused one, and Justin’s high color and put it all together.
“You’re gay,” she asked Russell, voice raised slightly in surprise.
Russell shifted from one foot to the other, refusing to lift his eyes from her rug.
“It was a one time thing,” he responded.
“Seemed like you knew what you were doing,” Brian volleyed.
Justin pinched Brian’s side. “Not helping,” he whispered harshly.
“I think your mother has a right to know that Russell here was at the Baths and he sure as fuck wasn’t a nervous virgin.”
Justin watched his mother’s jaw tick once, twice, eyes locked on Russell as she walked passed him and opened the front door.
“I think it’s time for you to leave, Russell.” Each word was carefully annunciated and brokered no argument.
Russell nodded mutely not looking at any of them as he passed. The door slamming behind him reverberated throughout the house.
Jennifer stood stalk still for a moment before letting out a sigh.
“Mom,” Justin started, tone filled with worry. Jennifer’s upraised hand stopped him.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said, offering Brian a weak smile.
Clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders, she started walking towards the dining room.
“Dinner’s getting cold,” she called over her shoulder.
Conversation was stilted at first. Talk of work and family long since visited, Brian went for the obvious:
“So, how was he?”
Jennifer laughed brusquely before answering. “Not very good. You’d think after having been fucked by the legendary Brian Kinney he would have picked up a few moves.”
Justin blanched. It was official; he was scarred for life.
Donald
Donald was tall and balding. He had a paunch, a shrill laugh, and shitty taste in music. Brian was quick to point all this out to Justin of course.
“He’s more pathetic than Theodore, and I honestly didn’t think that was possible.”
Justin nodded as he continued to flip through his art history book.
“Maybe Russell scared her off of any man even remotely hot,” he reasoned.
“Are you trying to explain Donald or Ethan?”
Justin looked up from a biography of Henri Matisse only long enough to offer Brian a withering look.
“Or maybe she’s weirded out that she fucked someone you did. I mean it’s like three degrees of separation to me.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Justin’s nose crinkled at the thought because the Oedipus-esque mental image was so not needed.
Three weeks later, Jen came to her senses. At least Justin thought she had when she started talking about some hot thing that changed her tire.
Tucker
Justin hated Tucker on principle. He was young enough to be in college, and could he have picked a more dangerous mode of transportation to drive his mother around in…on? Whatever.
He would give his mother this much; Tucker was hot.
If he were willing to admit it to himself, he knew Tucker had potential to be ‘the one.’ Smart, sexy, and willing to snark back, Justin begrudgingly had to give the guy props for standing up to his…oh god…dare he say it? Girlfriend’s kid. (Especially when that kid was almost his age.)
There were other clues, too. Jennifer smiled and laughed much more easily. Her stories increasing included ‘Tucker and I,’ ‘us,’ and ‘we.’ Every time Justin heard her use these phrases, he felt something itching beneath his skin that he dare not name. He distanced himself from the problem and his mother by making snide comments and watched in disbelief as she easily deflected every barb. Eventually, she called him on his shit. She was happy, she told him and that none of his adolescent, jealous riffs would dissuade her from her relationship with her boy toy. Okay, so maybe she'd used the word boyfriend rather than boy toy, but, honestly the kid was a twink compared to her.
Justin’s disapproval probably would have gone on indefinitely if he hadn’t been forced to see how much Tucker actually cared for his mom. Funny that things changed so dramatically in his life because of one night’s events. Scratch that…two nights.'
It was dark and late and cold out that night. Tired from hours of pounding the pavement to get votes for Prop 14, Justin was happy to see such a huge turnout for the fundraiser.
Lights, music, dancing, and liquor all culminated into a lull of thumpa thumpa.
But things like happiness and victories are tricky things. Seldom held long, they're always replaced by something horrendous that pops the happy little bubble people wrap themselves in.
In a bright, white, deafening flash that lull turned into chaos. Debris, smoke, and screams filled the air. He could feel the heat of the fire on his face and the smoke burning his lungs.
Suddenly Brian was there, screaming his name in a tone that was eerily familiar to a cold night five years before.
A shaking hand found his, fingers intertwining before Brian began to lead them out of the club into the street. Blue and red flashing lights reflected off of every surface. Lines of people stood huddled near police cars and ambulances looking at the wreckage of Babylon.
Brian spotted the ambulance Michael was being loaded into.
“We need to check you out, sir,” a voice said.
Startled by the too loud, too close noise, Justin turned to find a paramedic standing beside him.
Casting a look between his partner and Michael, Justin squeezed Brian’s hand once.
“Go,” he said, simply.
A stunned Justin sat on the back of an ambulance, shivering from shock, the cold, and the realization that he could have died again.
A short distance away, his mother and Tucker stood. Just watching how Tucker comforted his mother he knew it was more than just a passing fling.
He knew in the way this man he had once hated on principle turn a worried expression towards him despite the fact that Justin had only shown disdain for Tucker’s presence in his mother’s life.
He knew in the way Tucker wiped away his mother’s tears with the pad of his thumb and in the soft whispers of comfort he offered.
He knew in the way Tucker gently steered Jennifer to their car to go home because the words ‘let’s go home’ were used where ‘let me take you home’ could have been.
He noticed all of this because Brian reacted the same way to seeing him--the same worried expression, the same gestures, and the same softly spoken ‘I love you.’
His mother had found happiness and who the fuck was he to keep her from it?
This is the first thing I've written since Katrina. It's been spell checked and that's about it. I'm not in the right state of mind to handle a blood beta, but, if there's anything glaring, let me know.
Sydney Alexis
Just watching how Tucker comforted his mother he knew it was more than just a passing fling.
Maurice
Tucker wasn’t the first of Jennifer Taylor’s serious relationships. In fact, he was the fourth. Not that Justin was counting, but, if he was, he’d label Maurice as the first.
The first time he’d heard the name Maurice, Justin was post-Ethan, pre-Brian. His source? Molly Taylor, chatterbox extraordinaire.
The girl had spent the first half of the conversation talking at length about the great drama that was junior high while Justin half listened. Thirty minutes of ‘uh huhs’ and he was ready to make his excuses when the littlest Taylor had casually mentioned that Maurice was coming over for dinner before her piano recital. Trying to push Molly for details, he listened to the girl fall into a gale of girlie giggles before hanging up on him.
Justin sat on the couch in Daphne’s tiny apartment staring at the phone in disbelief. He didn’t know what pissed him off more--that his kid sister had just hung up on him or the fact that he had been the one to teach her that little trick.
By the time he’d finally gotten in contact with his mother, The Great Maurice had been reassigned to his company’s Syracuse office and Jennifer Taylor was on the rebound.
Russell
Russell was in the picture for four months before Jennifer invited Justin over for dinner. Post-Stockwell and $100,000 plus in debt, neither he nor Brian put up much of a fight when invites for free, home cooked meals came. Justin, however, suspected Brian was more interested in meeting this Russell Jen had been gushing about.
They arrived on time and Justin was barely through the door when his mother introduced him to Russell. Justin instantly began eyeing Russell. Tall, with a swimmer’s build, black hair, blue eyes, Justin had a nagging suspicion he’d seen Russell somewhere before.
And then Brian walked through the doorway.
Justin took one look at Russell’s wide-eyed stare at being introduced to Brian and he knew without seeing Brian’s tongue in cheek response that Russell was more than familiar with his partner. The clincher though? As Brian shook Russell’s outstretched hand, he asked:
“So, Russell, have you ‘seen the light?’”
Jennifer’s eyes shot from Russell’s shocked expression, Brian’s amused one, and Justin’s high color and put it all together.
“You’re gay,” she asked Russell, voice raised slightly in surprise.
Russell shifted from one foot to the other, refusing to lift his eyes from her rug.
“It was a one time thing,” he responded.
“Seemed like you knew what you were doing,” Brian volleyed.
Justin pinched Brian’s side. “Not helping,” he whispered harshly.
“I think your mother has a right to know that Russell here was at the Baths and he sure as fuck wasn’t a nervous virgin.”
Justin watched his mother’s jaw tick once, twice, eyes locked on Russell as she walked passed him and opened the front door.
“I think it’s time for you to leave, Russell.” Each word was carefully annunciated and brokered no argument.
Russell nodded mutely not looking at any of them as he passed. The door slamming behind him reverberated throughout the house.
Jennifer stood stalk still for a moment before letting out a sigh.
“Mom,” Justin started, tone filled with worry. Jennifer’s upraised hand stopped him.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said, offering Brian a weak smile.
Clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders, she started walking towards the dining room.
“Dinner’s getting cold,” she called over her shoulder.
Conversation was stilted at first. Talk of work and family long since visited, Brian went for the obvious:
“So, how was he?”
Jennifer laughed brusquely before answering. “Not very good. You’d think after having been fucked by the legendary Brian Kinney he would have picked up a few moves.”
Justin blanched. It was official; he was scarred for life.
Donald
Donald was tall and balding. He had a paunch, a shrill laugh, and shitty taste in music. Brian was quick to point all this out to Justin of course.
“He’s more pathetic than Theodore, and I honestly didn’t think that was possible.”
Justin nodded as he continued to flip through his art history book.
“Maybe Russell scared her off of any man even remotely hot,” he reasoned.
“Are you trying to explain Donald or Ethan?”
Justin looked up from a biography of Henri Matisse only long enough to offer Brian a withering look.
“Or maybe she’s weirded out that she fucked someone you did. I mean it’s like three degrees of separation to me.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Justin’s nose crinkled at the thought because the Oedipus-esque mental image was so not needed.
Three weeks later, Jen came to her senses. At least Justin thought she had when she started talking about some hot thing that changed her tire.
Tucker
Justin hated Tucker on principle. He was young enough to be in college, and could he have picked a more dangerous mode of transportation to drive his mother around in…on? Whatever.
He would give his mother this much; Tucker was hot.
If he were willing to admit it to himself, he knew Tucker had potential to be ‘the one.’ Smart, sexy, and willing to snark back, Justin begrudgingly had to give the guy props for standing up to his…oh god…dare he say it? Girlfriend’s kid. (Especially when that kid was almost his age.)
There were other clues, too. Jennifer smiled and laughed much more easily. Her stories increasing included ‘Tucker and I,’ ‘us,’ and ‘we.’ Every time Justin heard her use these phrases, he felt something itching beneath his skin that he dare not name. He distanced himself from the problem and his mother by making snide comments and watched in disbelief as she easily deflected every barb. Eventually, she called him on his shit. She was happy, she told him and that none of his adolescent, jealous riffs would dissuade her from her relationship with her boy toy. Okay, so maybe she'd used the word boyfriend rather than boy toy, but, honestly the kid was a twink compared to her.
Justin’s disapproval probably would have gone on indefinitely if he hadn’t been forced to see how much Tucker actually cared for his mom. Funny that things changed so dramatically in his life because of one night’s events. Scratch that…two nights.'
It was dark and late and cold out that night. Tired from hours of pounding the pavement to get votes for Prop 14, Justin was happy to see such a huge turnout for the fundraiser.
Lights, music, dancing, and liquor all culminated into a lull of thumpa thumpa.
But things like happiness and victories are tricky things. Seldom held long, they're always replaced by something horrendous that pops the happy little bubble people wrap themselves in.
In a bright, white, deafening flash that lull turned into chaos. Debris, smoke, and screams filled the air. He could feel the heat of the fire on his face and the smoke burning his lungs.
Suddenly Brian was there, screaming his name in a tone that was eerily familiar to a cold night five years before.
A shaking hand found his, fingers intertwining before Brian began to lead them out of the club into the street. Blue and red flashing lights reflected off of every surface. Lines of people stood huddled near police cars and ambulances looking at the wreckage of Babylon.
Brian spotted the ambulance Michael was being loaded into.
“We need to check you out, sir,” a voice said.
Startled by the too loud, too close noise, Justin turned to find a paramedic standing beside him.
Casting a look between his partner and Michael, Justin squeezed Brian’s hand once.
“Go,” he said, simply.
A stunned Justin sat on the back of an ambulance, shivering from shock, the cold, and the realization that he could have died again.
A short distance away, his mother and Tucker stood. Just watching how Tucker comforted his mother he knew it was more than just a passing fling.
He knew in the way this man he had once hated on principle turn a worried expression towards him despite the fact that Justin had only shown disdain for Tucker’s presence in his mother’s life.
He knew in the way Tucker wiped away his mother’s tears with the pad of his thumb and in the soft whispers of comfort he offered.
He knew in the way Tucker gently steered Jennifer to their car to go home because the words ‘let’s go home’ were used where ‘let me take you home’ could have been.
He noticed all of this because Brian reacted the same way to seeing him--the same worried expression, the same gestures, and the same softly spoken ‘I love you.’
His mother had found happiness and who the fuck was he to keep her from it?
This is the first thing I've written since Katrina. It's been spell checked and that's about it. I'm not in the right state of mind to handle a blood beta, but, if there's anything glaring, let me know.