Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

Justin couldn't believe that he had fallen for Ethan's lies.  The minute he had the chance, his so called "boyfriend" had taken up with the first star struck fan he encountered.  His impassioned I love you's all meant nothing now.  The violinist had ruined their six month relationship with one night of indiscretion.   Although Justin wondered if perhaps there were many more, and he had been foolishly blinded by Ethan's romantic ways.

Searching for an affordable apartment to call his own, Justin thought everything seemed so expensive.  After all, he was barely making above minimum wage at the diner.  But luckily for him, his mother was a real estate agent, so she would be able to at least help him find something within his price range.

After a month of sleeping on his best friend's uncomfortable couch, Justin had finally located an apartment.   It was not in the best of neighborhoods, and it needed a great deal of work.  But on the other hand, he could swing the rent, and the light from the windows was amazing.  Since Justin was also an artist, that particular feature was of the utmost importance. 

Jennifer Taylor had reluctantly showed her son the run down apartment.  She was hoping he wouldn't like it, but of course he did.  Even though things were hard for her since she and Craig had divorced, this was her only son.  So she made one last futile attempt to convince him to move in with her and Molly.  Justin refused the heartfelt offer, stating that it was time for him to make it on his own.  He teased her that he was going to embody the term "struggling artist".   Jennifer wasn't surprised, and knew better than to argue with him when his mind was made up.  He had always been stubborn, even as a baby.

Brian Kinney was a successful man in every sense of the word.  He had a terrific job with Vangard, the top advertising company in Pittsburgh, and was in line to become a partner soon.  He was father to a wonderful little boy, courtesy of  his best friend's biological clock ticking.  His son Gus lived with his two mommies, and was the one accomplishment he was the most proud of.   Although he didn't see his little boy as much as he should, the child loved him unconditionally. 

Brian also took pride in the fact that he was the reigning stud of Liberty Avenue.  Every fag in town wanted to experience a legendary Kinney fuck.  Brian was always happy to oblige, but he was careful not to do repeats.  You see, Brian didn't believe in boyfriends.  He especially didn't believe in love.  His firsthand look at his own parent's horrendous marriage had completely soured him on that.  Despite his self indulgent lifestyle, Brian always felt that something was missing.

Justin was at the diner, working the morning shift.  During the five months he had been there, he usually worked behind the counter, which he preferred.  Justin loved to study people, and he'd sometimes sketch them.  From his vantage point, he was able to watch the various customers who frequented the lively place.   For someone would undoubtedly catch his eye, and he'd find himself having to draw them once he got home.   

All of the regular clientèle was there this morning.  To others, they might appear to be freaks, but to Justin this was home.  He belonged here, and was comfortable in this environment, and with who he was.  He watched as a couple of drag queens strutted in, followed closely by Debbie's son Michael, and his friends.  Debbie was the head waitress, and a PFLAG chapter president.  She was a strange, loud woman, but also lovable and gregarious.  She had taken an instant liking to Justin, even bestowing the nickname Sunshine upon him, due to his blond hair and winsome smile.

Justin's eyes were always drawn to one of Michael's buddies.  The man's name was Brian Kinney.  Justin didn't really know him well, having only had several brief interactions with him.  But the man was sex on legs.  He was a tall brunet, with striking good looks, and a sleek chiseled build.  Justin was well aware of the King of Liberty Avenue, as he was referred to by the endless stream of fags who gushed his praise.   From the gossip he had heard about the way the man treated people, he sounded like an arrogant ass.  Justin recalled with satisfaction how he had deflected Brian's bold come on, when he first began working at the diner, and was living with Ethan.  Since the unexpected rejection, the older man barely acknowledged him these days.

Justin had just begun to fix up his new home.  He started by painting it.  His friend Daphne came over to help, and they had a great time together.  Too bad most of the paint wound up on them, instead of the walls.  It could have been due to their little paint war.  Daphne had accidentally painted Justin's hand, and he dabbed the tip of her nose.  Before long, they were giggling and covered head to toe with splotches of paint.

After his best friend left, he took a shower to scrub what little of the substance had remained.  Although they had both cleaned off, smidgeons of paint were still embedded under their nails, and in their hair.  As the warm water cascaded down his body, he felt the weariness of his long day catching up to him.  Refreshed, Justin stepped out of the misty stall, and threw on his underwear.  He gratefully slipped under the soft inviting sheets, as his aching body immediately curled into them. 

It was no surprise that Justin easily transitioned into a deep sleep.  He was suddenly awakened by the shrill ringing of the phone.  It brought him out of his restful state, interrupting an especially good dream.  Justin rolled over, the weight of his tired limbs felt like lead.  He glanced at the time.

'Shit, it's nearly midnight,' he thought.  He reached for the phone, annoyed at the lateness of the hour.   'Who the fuck was it?'  He managed to croak a "hello" into the receiver, and then waited for a response.

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