Thursday, January 26, 2012

Thursday Morning Coffee... QAF FanFiction? Egads!


Okay, like a million other straight women over 30, I TOTALLY fell in love with Queer as Folk. And being quite enamored of the series, (addicted, even) and reading tons and tons of Fan Fiction, I could not stop myself from writing just a teeny-tiny bit. I think I allowed myself to write 4 or 5 FanFic shorts based on QAF characters of the Showtime drama created by Cowlip productions, and then I forced myself to stop because I figured my time would be better spent creating my own characters of awesomeness. 



And just so you know I'm not alone in my insanity, there's FanArt, too:



But I will gift the story here, for Thursday Morning Coffee, because my blog is centered around fiction at the moment and I'm too lazy to showcase someone else's fiction this week. So just give me a little break - this is old, was written quickly, and is just supposed to be a cute, sweet read for QAF fans.

So it's my fiction... but I don't own rights to the characters or story line, and would never presume to such ownership. Think that's enough disclaimer? Not yet.

Content disclaimer: This story contains romantic interaction (though not explicit sex) between gay male characters. If this offends you - please don't read it!

Aftermath – Everything
by SM

[Set beginning of Season 2, rated R for language. Music quotes from Lifehouse album No Name Face, song title "Everything." Standard disclaimer: I don't own Brian or Justin or Queer as Folk, Cowlip does.]

Find me here, Speak to me
I want to feel you, I need to hear you

            He got what he wanted, what he'd always wanted from the first night – his heart's desire was to be here, to be wanted and welcome. To belong in this amazing place, the home of this amazing man.

            You are the light that is leading me
            To the place where I find peace again

            He was so jacked to be here, couldn't stop smiling despite the irritated looks Brian threw him while he prowled the loft jerking open a drawer and emptying it – "You can put stuff in there,"  yanking open the closet doors, "hang things here. And just try to remember I'm a minimalist, and don't bring too much crap over." 
Justin followed him putting socks and underwear in the drawer, then stopping to hang his clothes. "What about my art stuff?"
Brian looked exasperated and stalked to the kitchen, pulling open a cupboard door and moving his juicer to the top of the fridge. Minimalist, to be sure, devoting a whole cupboard to a juicer. Brain was such a snob.
"There," Brian said, tossing in a sketch pad and pencils that had been sitting on the counter. "Art stuff.  Happy?"
"Thank you," Justin said.  If he didn't know Brian, Justin would think from this indignant display that Brian didn't want him here. But Brian never did anything he didn't want to do. Brian didn't do "obligation" or "responsibility."
"All right. You settled now?" 
Justin nodded and slumped on the sofa. He still got tired way too easy. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He was safe. Hobbs couldn't get to him behind the sliding iron door of Brian's loft. No one could.

You are the strength that keeps me walking
You are the hope that keeps me trusting
You are the life to my soul, you are my purpose.
You are everything.

He felt Brian's presence behind him, standing at the back of the couch a moment before Brian's hands ruffled through his hair, strong fingers lightly massaging his skull, gently tracing the scar. Justin flinched and jerked his head away.
"Does it hurt?" Brian asked.
"Not in the way you mean." 
It hurt in the way everyone looked at him, pitied him, poor little Justin. Hurt in the way they watched him so carefully, like he might freak out or fall apart. He wasn't going to. He was fine, perfect. Brilliant, in fact. He was right where he wanted to be. Brian wouldn't treat him like a fragile thing, Brian would treat him like a pain in the ass.
Brian's hands reached out, framed Justin's face and tilted his head back so Justin was looking at Brian upside down. Brian bent to drop a light kiss on Justin's mouth, then pulled away and searched Justin's eyes for... something.
Dread coiled inside Justin and he begged in his head don't, don't be different now, not you.
Brian's expression settled and he looked satisfied. 
"What?" Justin couldn't stop himself from asking.
"You're all right."
"I told you."
Brian ran his fingers into Justin's hair again, then slid his hands down each side of Justin's neck, to his shoulders, smoothed down to his chest. He tapped a rhythm with both hands on Justin's breastbone.
"Now what?" Brian asked. "Should we eat?"
Justin was surprised. "Is there food here?"
"Of course not."

And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how it could be any better than this?

A half an hour later they were at the diner.
"Sunshine!" Deb exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh baby, you've lost weight.  Well, I'll fix that," and off she went to the kitchen.
Justin watched her go, a laugh bubbling from his lips, his heart warm and full. Debbie was at least normal – she treated all her "boys" like children. 
Brian, still standing behind Justin, grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him to a booth.  Justin slid in and Brian sat across from him. "Deb," Brian called out, "Can I order something, too?  I'm feeling awfully weak..."
"Oh, Brian," she waved him off. "Haven't I always looked after you?"
Michael was the first of the gang to show up, barely five minutes later. The fawning started the moment Michael slid into the booth next to Brian, big brown eyes almost liquid as he asked, "Justin, how are you feeling?" Michael's voice, his whole face, really, dripped with concern. He even reached for Justin's hand.
Justin pulled his hand back, out of reach. "Michael, I'm fine," he said. "Really." And tried to laugh, rolling his eyes.
"Well, forgive me for asking," Michael said, and Justin could tell he was offended. "You know, you were almost dead."
"Everyone keeps reminding me," Justin said, and felt relief wash over him as Emmett and Ted appeared at the table.
Ted greeted them with one of his sarcastic statements. "I hear this is the place for fine dining and even finer company."
"Scoot," Brian said, and nudged Michael out of the booth. He slid in beside Justin. First Michael and then Ted took the bench Brian vacated. 
Brian snugged up tight to Justin, and motioned Emmett to the small space left at the outside edge of the bench.
Emmett eyed the edge of the seat that Brian was patting. "Is it me or are the booths here at the Liberty Diner shrinking? Deb's got to stop with the vigorous cleaning."
"Well, then we'd catch something," Ted said.
"C'mon, Emmett, "Brian said, "you can fit one cheek."
"And the booths are not shrinking," Michael groused. "Just Justin here taking up space."
"Which is better than the alternative," Ted said, and smiled at Justin. "I'm glad you're not dead. I've nearly been there."
Emmett leaned across Brian to greet Justin. "You look good, Sunshine! Wow, your hair's practically all grown in already."
"I know," said Justin, "it grows fast. It'll be like it never even happened."
Brian arched an eyebrow at him but didn't refute his words. Instead he slid his right arm around Justin, and let his fingers touch the side of Justin's head, gently, gently. He tipped his own head a bit to the side, like he was asking a question.
"I'm fine," Justin insisted, and said it so firmly that he even believed it.

You calm the storms, you give me rest.
You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.

He still believed it later at Woody's, until a couple of guys started arguing – LOUD – and he felt himself shrink a little. When the argument continued, getting louder and louder, he started feeling nervous and found himself staring at them, unable to tear his eyes away. He even backed up a couple of steps without meaning to, until he bumped into Brian who was standing behind him. From his look, Justin knew Brian knew, and Brian's arms came around him and he whispered in Justin's ear, "Let's get out of here." Raising his voice, Brian told the others, "This is boring. I'm taking my child prodigy to Babylon where the music is hot and the guys are hotter."
Brian pulled Justin out of Woodys, and of course the rest of the gang grumbled, groused, and followed.
Babylon seemed fine as long Brian was touching him or he was touching Brian. It was like Brian was his ground, his touchstone and as long as Brian was within arm's length, the world was right.
Of course it was inevitable that Brian would get cruised by someone he couldn't resist. "You okay?" he asked Justin.
Justin certainly wasn't going to say no, for God's sake, and he tried not to watch as Brian led the trick onto the dance floor. Thank God Brian never changed, he told himself.

You still my heart and you take my breath away
Would you take me in, would you take me deeper now?

But as Justin stood next to Ted, drinking his kiddie cocktail, which was all Brian would allow him to have tonight, the music got louder and louder until it was a senseless rush in his ears. His heartbeat sped up to match the thumpa-thumpa of the techno beat, and then he could feel it in his ears too, and it made him a little sick. He swayed on his feet, but he wasn't dancing, he was in danger of falling down.
"Hey, are you okay?" Ted's hand was on his shoulder.
Justin tried to focus on Ted's face, to nod, and was horrified to feel his eyes watering. Fuckin' Hobbs.
And then Brian was there, his voice soothing, "Hey, hey." His arms curving around Justin's body, holding him close, whispering in his ear. "Everything is all right. I have you. You're safe."
Justin could hear Brian's heartbeat and felt his own slow down to match. He took a deep breath that almost was a sob, grateful the music covered it. He clung to Brian. Brian was his everything.

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
And would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
Because you're all I want, you're all I need... You're everything, everything.

[end]


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