Brian's side

It had been a week since he had last seen Justin. Was he ever coming back? Brian didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. I hope that twink never comes back. He knew that was a lie. Why didn’t I just ask him to stay? But he knew why. He didn’t want to risk the chance that Justin might actually turn him down. No, it was better this way. But is he okay? Mikey had told him that Justin had cancelled their meeting. Of course Mikey went off on how irresponsible Justin was, and how he knew that Justin wasn’t sick and was probably stuck at home with a hang-over. Brian wondered if Mikey ever stopped to think before he opened his mouth. Probably not. Shaking his head, he didn’t have time to ponder over Mikey. Instead, Brian had kept himself busy at work, and at night made sure to do his usual rounds in the backroom. He had stopped bringing them home though, just in case Justin was to stop by. He didn’t want Justin to see a trick there. Not that he cared… But if Justin was upset about something and needed to talk… he wouldn’t come inside if he knew I had a trick here… Yeah, that was it. Tracing the rim of his glass with his fingertip, Brian knew he had to stop thinking about Justin. He’s just some twink. But nothing was working. Ted had jokingly pointed out to him the other day that all his tricks seemed to sharing the same gene pool: blonde hair and with blue eyes. But none of them even compare… Gulping down his drink, he stares at the crowd around him. Woody’s had lost it’s edge. It used to be a great hang out for Brian and the gang, but now it just seemed boring to him. Maybe that’s because Sunshine ain’t here… shit. He hated to admit it, but Justin could even make a morgue fun for him. Who needs him? I don’t. I don’t need anyone. Calling for another shot, he leans back against the chair. He could sense people watching him, wanting him. Of course they want me, who wouldn’t? The bitterness caught his throat as he remembers Justin leaving the loft. Was that really goodbye? But it was suppose to be like this. Justin deserved better than what Brian was offering to him. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.

(memory) “Everybody needs somebody,” Ahmed tried to explain. “Fuck you!” Brian screamed at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that the woman Ahmed kept visiting in the hospital was his wife. His wife! Ahmed lied to him. He was married. Not just married, but happily married. He loved her, and she loved him. And she was dying. Brian was nothing but a fling, a fantasy to him. “I hate you!” Ahmed again tried to reason, “You don’t mean that..” “I gave you everything! I told you things that I never told anyone else in my life! I trusted you! I trusted you, I let you take me to those parties… and share me… and I fuckin’ trusted you!!.. You lied to me! I trusted you!” He shakes his head, “Well now you learned.” Yes, Brian learned very well that night. He learned what happens when you open yourself up and let someone inside like that. He learned what happens when you submit your everything to one single person… you get burned.

Brian barely notices the new drink being placed in front of him. He still could feel the burn. I hope Ahmed is rotting in hell. Twisting his bracelet between his fingers, he takes the thought back. Even though he hated Ahmed, he couldn’t deny what Ahmed meant to him, what he taught him. Sighing, he glances over at the bar. Who will be the lucky trick tonight? Fuck what Ted said… Deciding on a slender fellow with dark brown hair, Brian throws a few bills on the table of goes to take his prey.

The trick’s apartment was a shit hole though, that was nearly a turn-off… nearly, but not quite. His ass made up for it. He was a good fuck. Not the best. But he was good. Brian exited the elevator of his building and walked into his loft. Would there be any phone messages for him? Checking,

Mikey calling to see ‘what’s up’ and ‘hey, call me!’ Cynthia reminding him about tomorrow’s eight AM meeting. Debbie asking if he had any plans for Thanksgiving Aw fuck, is that next week? and Mikey calling again to see if he’s going to be at Babylon tomorrow night.

Rubbing his temples, he sits down on the couch and stares at the empty space where Justin’s easel once stood. Fuck. He needed to put something there. It was driving him nuts. Closing his eyes, he remembers Justin standing there, holding a charcoal pencil between his lips while highlighting his work on the canvas with a piece of white chalk.

(memory) “You’re doing that on purpose,” he teasingly scolds as he takes the pencil out of his mouth. Brian smiles, innocently asking, “What?” before playfully tapping the lamp on the table. Justin frowns, “You keep changing the lighting… knock it off.” Brian smiles wider, “You mean like this?” and taps the shade again. Justin laughs, “Yes, Brian, like that. Can you please stop?” Brian stops, staring at Justin. Justin, noticing that he’s being watched, smiles, “You’re making it hard to concentrate.” Brian smiles softly. He knew that Justin could easily block the feeling of his stare out if he really wanted to. When Justin would sketch, he could shut out the entire world without realizing it. Sometimes it frustrated Brian, but at the same time he admired that about him. Standing up, Brian walks over to him, “Can I see?” Justin takes a step back, putting the pencil back in his mouth, “What do you think?” Kissing Justin’s temple, he watches him add more chalk highlights. “It’s good.” Justin grins, “Really?” He nods. Justin playfully pushes his away, “You’re biased.” Brian shrugs; he didn’t feel like having that conversation. Standing behind him, he lightly kisses the back of Justin’s neck. He can hear him sighing, almost like a purr. Brian tenderly kisses behind his earlobe. Putting his pencil and chalk down, Justin turns to face him….

Those eyes. Vibrant blue crystals staring at him, reading him… knowing him. Brian shakes the image away. Forget about him, Kinney. Standing back up, Brian heads to bed. Fuck him.