Title: Baby Steps Series: 601- Family Ties Author: Greens Feedback: Yes! Please? Pretty please? I’m asking nicely Pairing: Ben/Michael, Brian/Justin, Mel/Lindsay Rating: R for now (for language, sexual content) will become NC-17 Genre: Season 6 (with one major change in canon) Summary: 601- Brian misses Justin, Michael and Ben prepare to send Hunter off to college. Gus turns five years old. Notes: Season 6 series with one major change which will become obvious in the beginning of the fic. Special Thanks: Thanks to the actors who gave us these wonderful characters whom we all love. Without them, there would be no QAF. So thank you. Spoilers: Through 513 Warnings: None Disclaimer: I do not own QAF. I simply like to borrow them for the purpose of some friendly play. I am not making any money on this or any of my stories. All characters (with the exception of my original characters) belong to the creators ________________ "What about that?" Michael asked, pointing into the toy store window as he walked down the street with Brian. "That one’s nice." Brian stopped and looked in the window at the shiny red two wheeler. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Too... red." He began to slowly start down the street once again. Michael rushed to catch up with him. "The last one was too blue." he pointed out. "The one before that was... too gay." "Well it was, wasn’t it?" "I guess," Michael said. "But I mean... it’s just a bike." Brian stopped. "Not just any bike, Mikey. Gus’ first two wheeler. This, as you know, is an important step in a young boy’s life. You remember when you learned, don’t you?" Michael thought. "Sure," he replied. "My Uncle Vic taught me." He laughed. "I was so cut up and bloody. It took me hours. You remember when you learned?" Brian nodded. "Taught myself. Claire never wanted to be bothered. My old man was drunk, my mother was drunk. That didn’t leave me anyone else. So I did it myself. Didn’t take me very long." Brian laughed. "And then I got hit by a car." "What?!" Michael was shocked. "You never told me that." "Yeah," Brian kept walking with him. "Broke my arm. And after... my son of a bitch father beat the shit out of me, I was the most fabulous kindergartner with my tiny wittle cast." "Shit..." "Hey, I survived. I always do." Brian said. "But that, Mikey... is why I’m teaching my kid how to ride a bike." "Superdad," Michael swung his arm out around Brian’s waist. "So is... Justin coming in for the party?" "I don’t know," Brian admitted. "You saw him last weekend, right?" Michael was a bit surprised. "You used the Brown account as an excuse to drive up there." "Yeah, I saw him." Brian continued to check out the store windows. "We spent all weekend together. He’s fucking busy, Mikey. Justin... is a fucking superstar out there." Brian stopped, looking in a window. "That’s the one." "It looks... just like the last eight we saw." Michael began as Brian stepped away from him. "Brian..." he followed his best friend inside. "Look at it, Mikey." Brian stood beside a forest green bicycle. "Isn’t it a thing of beauty?" "It’s... nice." "It’s more than nice." Brian looked it over. "It’s a fucking piece of art." Michael laughed, watching Brian admire the bicycle. "If you say so. What about Justin?" "What about Justin?" "Did he say anything about Gus’ party?" "Justin is too busy to even know his fucking name at this point." Brian explained. "He probably doesn’t even remember it’s the kid’s birthday. What do you think?" he changed the subject. "Bell or no bell?" "Brian..." "Right, no bell. The last thing my kid needs is a bike with a bell. I’ll take this one." He said to the clerk. Michael followed Brian to the counter. "That’s not what I meant and you know it." "Just because we’re fucking married doesn’t make me his fucking keeper. We agreed that before we tightened the noose. He’s got his life and I’ve got mine. Nothing’s changed. Except... the fucking around part. We put an end to that." "You’re honestly telling me that the... what is it, almost seven months now that Justin’s been gone you haven’t fucked another guy?" "I am telling you that in the past seven months since Justin’s been gone, I haven’t so much as had another guy suck me off." Michael smiled, shaking his head. "Brian Kinney, you’ve really grown up." "Shh," Brian hushed him. "Don’t tell anyone. I’m still holding onto my image." "Oh, OK," Michael laughed. "I’ll keep that in mind." Brian signed the credit card slip. "Gus is gonna fucking love this," he said proudly, admiring it. "If he likes it half as much as you do," Michael laughed, "You’re like a ten year old in a candy shop." "Or you in a comic book store." Brian teased him. "Let’s get the fuck out of here already. I’m starving. I need to eat before going to work." "Work?" "Yeah, work. It’s what people do to make money to buy all the nice, expensive things they want and need. Like a shiny new two wheeler." Brian wheeled the bike along with them. "You’ve got a kid heading off to college now. You should know the meaning of the word by now." "Don’t remind me," Michael sighed. "Ben is freaking already." "The professor needs to grow some balls. NYU isn’t even that fucking far from here. It’s not like the kid is going to California or some shit like that." "Still," Michael entered the diner with him, Brian leaving the bicycle by the doorway. "He’s going to be away from home, on a campus in the city. You remember what college was like for you." "Fuck yeah," Brian smiled, recalling it. "But I... am not your kid. Although you did raise me as your own." Brian paused. "I turned out OK despite the fact." Michael shoved him with a laugh. "Well look at you two!" Debbie exclaimed as Brian and Michael took a seat. "You boys had a busy morning, I see. Gotta be ready for those kids. Can’t believe that little boy is gonna be five. When’s Sunshine coming in?" "He’s not!" Brian said. "Christ. He didn’t say a fucking word about coming back to the Pitts. He’s happy where he is. Why the fuck would he want to come back?!" Michael didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t go through this conversation again. Debbie, on the other hand, would never take Brian’s shit. "Because he fucking loves you." she said, resisting the urge to crack him in the back of the head. "That’s why. So don’t sit there and fucking think for one second that he wouldn’t come back here for you or that little angel son of yours!" "Ma," Michael attempted to get her to ease up on Brian. "Can we just get some lunch... please." "You’re fucking married now," Debbie wouldn’t back down. "Like I told your son," Brian spit. "Justin has his life and I have mine. I don’t want him giving up what he loves just so that he can live in the Pitts with me. And I know that he would be saying the same exact thing." Brian stood from his seat. "I’m going to fucking work. Take care of the bike for me, Mikey." "What am I supposed..." Michael couldn’t even finish his statement as Brian exited the diner. "What crawled up his ass?" Debbie asked, pouring Michael some coffee. "He misses Justin," Michael said softly with a sigh. "He’ll never admit it. Even now." "How fucking hard is it to pick up a Goddamn phone and tell the guy... who you’re gonna spend the rest of your fucking life with that you love him and you miss him?" "You’ve known Brian as long as I have." Michael sighed. "That’s who he is. It’s who he’s always been." Michael took a deep breath. "Who he’ll always be." NEW YORK CITY The Arnsworth Gallery was filled to capacity, wall to wall works of Justin Taylor. The pictures were dark, almost gloomy and morose, far different than anything else Justin had created in years. If viewing the young man’s work was taking a glimpse at his soul, one might think that the artist was torn in two. That the dark colors which filled his canvases were a way for him to scream out in agony and heartbreak. Justin’s demeanor never made it quite clear to his colleagues and acquaintances how he was feeling, but his artwork spoke volumes. Justin walked the perimeter of the gallery, admiring his display. "This is going to be a fantastic shoe," Julie Morris said, following Justin at a distance. "Probably your best yet." Julie had become Justin’s first friend once he reached New York. The art world could be a hard, mean place to live and surviving was most often difficult. Justin was so far from home, from his mother and sister, from his friends... from Brian. Having Julie around helped ease the homesickness a little. She reminded Justin a lot of Daphne, demeanor-wise. She kept him honest. "I guess we’ll see," Justin said, taking a step back. Julie gazed over at him, reading his eyes and expression. "Something’s the matter." Justin sighed. "No it’s... It’s Gus’ birthday tomorrow. Brian’s son." "It’s opening night tomorrow," Julie reminded him. "Big names coming to meet you, to see your work. This is the opportunity of a lifetime." "I thought coming to New York was supposed to be my opportunity of a lifetime." Justin said. "I’ve been here for months, living in a shitty fucking apartment, reading a load of bill in the magazines and newspapers about how fabulous I am." "It’s all true," Julie said gently. "You are fabulous." "I could have been fabulous in Pittsburgh. I was fabulous in Pittsburgh." Justin took a seat on a bench before a sketch. "No matter where you go you’ll be amazing, Justin. You’re a talented artist and such a special person. But... anyone looking deep enough would be able to see that you’re not happy. You haven’t been happy in months... except when you see Brian." Justin stood once again. "Justin! You miss him. I know that and you know that. There is no hiding it." Julie watched him step forward and begin removing the frames from the wall. "Justin what... what are you doing? What are you doing?!" "They’re mine, right? I can do what I want with the,." "You’re not gonna destroy them." "Fuck no!: Justin said. "I’m taking them with me." Julie looked at him questioningly. "The opening is off." "You can’t just up and leave." "I have to. I’ll have my shit boxed up and sent back to Pittsburgh. I need to leave here/ I need to go home." "What about your career?" Julie said. "Even you said it. I’m fabulous. Whether I’m living in the fucking city or in the Pitts. I’ll still be fabulous. Fucking fabulous." Justin gathered up as many canvases as he could. "I’m going home."