


Going Nowhere

by nothing-rhymes-with-ianto



Category: Queer as Folk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2013-10-06 02:09:04
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,850
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5705543/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1570705/nothing-rhymes-with-ianto
Summary: Brian's thoughts during three scenes in 5.07. Character study-ish thing.





	1. Chapter 1

Brian rolled his neck, sighing. Fucking kid taking over _his_ position. He was going to stay the Stud of Liberty Avenue, whether this Brandon person liked it or not. He shook his head. _I wasn't going to think about that, remember_? So instead he turned his mind to the young blonde who was probably sitting at his computer, working. The elevator stopped and he stepped out and unlocked the door, sliding it open.

Stepping inside, he noticed Justin sitting on the couch, staring off into space. He smiled affectionately at the blonde. _He's hot when he's thinking. Okay, he's hot all the time. Whatever._ He took off his jacket and opened the fridge. It was fucking hot and he needed a refreshment. He grabbed a water bottle and turned.

"The club was packed tonight."

Justin groaned and stretched. "That's nice."

"Line all the way around the block." He wasn't really sure why he was telling Justin this.

"Great." Justin sure sounded interested.

"Barely any room on the dance floor." _You should have been there with me._

"Whatever else happens, by all means, keep on dancing."

"What about you, Dear, how was your evening?" It was partial mockery, but it covered the fact that Brian really did want to know. Justin had been acting weird for a while now.

"Not nearly as exciting as yours." Justin stood and walked toward him. "I spent it here. Alone. Thinking. And don't say always a dangerous sign." Jesus, Justin knew him well. He made a gesture of zipping up his lips, pulling them into his mouth in a way that he knew Justin found sexy. "I made some decisions." _Shit. Not this again. Don't say what I think you're going to say._

"'Bout what?"

"My life." Well, that was informative. Brian nodded.

"Ah."

"What I want." _Shit. _ It was worse than he thought. Brian stared at him, then looked away.

"I thought you'd already worked that out. You're gonna live off your considerable Hollywood wealth and try your hand at being an artist." _You'd live with me, you'd torture me into caring about you, you'd drive me batshit crazy but I don't want you to leave._

"Why are you making fun of me?" _You're accusing me. You're thinking. You've made decisions. What the hell is going on?_

"I'm not making fun of you." Justin stared at him. "Look, you're making me fucking nervous as hell. Just…tell me what you want, and what you've decided, so we can go to bed. And fuck."

Justin chuckled derisively. "You already know what I want. I've already told you." _Yeah. I cant give it to you. I don't do romance. I don't do words. I could never do words like you can. I'm an actions kind of guy. So give me a fucking break._

He nodded. "That's right. You have. A husband. A family. A home. All the things that make life worth living." _All the things I never had and could never even imagine having. Shit like that just doesn't work. At least, not around me._

Justin rolled his eyes. "Would you fucking cut it out? Just _stop_ it." Brian raised his eyebrows. _What do you want from me?_ Justin sighed, resigned. "And I _know_ you cant give me those things."

"Not cant. Cant implies that I am incapable. It's that I wont."

"I accept that. I suppose it's why I've always loved you."

Brian scoffed. What a great reason to be loved. "Ah. The untamable beast."

"But…" Brian felt nervous adrenaline in his stomach. Where was this going? "To be a couple both people need to want the same things. To move in the same direction. If they cant…or…wont, they really have no where to go."

_You're leaving? Don't. Don't go. What are you going to do without me?_ He didn't know what to say. "Probably not."

"Then why are we still doing this if we both know it's never going to work?"

_Because I want you to stay with me. Because…_ He gave a little smile. This fucking conversation was ridiculous. "Damned if I know."

_If he's going to leave, he would have done it already. That was the most pointless conversation._ He watched Justin cross the room, uncertain suddenly filling his gut.

For a moment, his heart hitched as he watched Justin fling a jacket on and pick up a couple of duffels. He rolled his eyes. _Shit. He's leaving. I should…I have to…I cant say that. I cant say what he needs to hear. I've been showing him for years. But I cannot say it. Brian Kinney just doesn't say things like that. He should know how I feel by now._

He set his water bottle down on the counter with more force than intended, and stepped over to stand in front of Justin, who dropped the bags at his feet, giving him a last chance. Brian knew he wouldn't take it. Instead, he stared at the black duffels on the floor. He felt Justin pull him into an embrace, and stood there awkwardly for a moment before wrapping his arms around his Sunshine.

He silently savored the arms around him, memorizing the touch. "Where you going?"

He felt Justin shake his head. "Dunno. I'll figure it out."

_Stay here, with me. Say it, Kinney. Say it. I cant. I cant say it._ Justin released his grip and they stepped away from each other. A line had been crossed and broken. He stood there, helpless, as Justin picked up his bags and opened the door.

He stared at the floor. He should've expected this. Everyone in his life left him at one point or another. It had just taken Justin longer than most to figure out that he was damaged goods, that Brian Kinney was not quite perfect, and that he was better of with someone else. Again. _But he said he loves me. Fuck. Kinney, just say it._

He turned toward the door. "Let me know." He raised his eyebrows. Justin looked at him, expression unreadable, didn't even nod. The sliding of metal and Brian was staring at blank grey where his Sunshine once was.

_Why didn't you say it? Because I cant. It's over now._ It was over now. Time to get back to life. If he knew how.


	2. Chapter 2

Ahh, Babylon. Where things never changed. Correction; where most things never changed. Brian let the music surround him, let himself forget everything. Looking down at the glass in his hand, he decided that empty would not do. He needed another drink. He spotted Ted and Emmett by the bar and pushed through the pulsating crowd toward them.

Ted noticed him and looked extremely relieved. "Hey, hey, look it's Bri! Bri, buddy, great to see you!"

He put his empty glass on the counter, effectively ignoring Theodore.

"Brian, why are you here?" Emmett asked. _So I can get wasted, what does it look like?_

Taking a breath, he put an arm around Emmet's shoulders. "'Why am I here?' Hmm. That's a question philosophers, scientists and theologians have been asking themselves for thousands of years. The best I can come up with is: We live in Pittsburgh. Where the hell else am I gonna go?"

"I believe what Emmett means is, we didn't expect to see you here, considering you and Justin….broke up."

Emmett patted his arm. Brian kind of wanted to break his hand. Instead he frowned at the table as if contemplating the idea of even caring. "You must be devastated."

"We're so sorry."

Brian nodded sarcastically. "Thanks for the sympathies. Another." He signaled the bartender. He really, really needed to get hammered. Now. He knew he was already halfway there, but come on, they lived in Pittsburgh, what the hell else was he going to do? "And the condolences. But…I'm not devastated. And you're not sorry, so, please, spare me the sentiments, and the sentimentality." He grabbed his drink and turned to lean against the bar. His eyes zeroed in on Brandon. Shit. He tuned back into what Theodore was saying.

"It's a relief to know you wont be dying of a broken heart anytime soon."

"Silly of us to even think you had one." Brian closed his eyes. Why did people always say that about him? He wondered if Justin was the only one who had never told him he didn't have a heart. He cleared his throat.

"I'm doing just fine."

"Yeah, we can see."

"And I'm sure Justin is too."

"Oh, he's doing better than fine. He's picked himself up, dusted himself off, and started all over again."

_Thanks for telling me._ "Glad to hear it." He smirked at Emmett, then rolled his eyes. "Be sure and give him my regards next time you see him."

"You can tell him yourself next time you're over at Michael and Ben's." Brian frowned.

Emmett clarified. "He's living with them." _What the fuck? Shit._ Brian turned back to the bar.

"Another."

Fuck. Justin was living with Michael and Ben? The stepford fags had acquired another lost boy to recruit—That's where Justin's ideas had come from. Husbands and families and houses and pets. Because Michael and Ben had joined together in happy imitation hetero life. And Michael had been talking to him. This was all Michael's fucking fault. He sat down at an empty barstool, now determined to get sloshed.

**********

By the time he got to his car, Brian knew where he was going. He didn't give a shit what time it is or who the president was or where in the goddamn world he was, he was going to go pay that little shit Michael a visit.

Even drunk as hell, he still found his way to stepford avenue and Michael's front door. The anger in his chest built as he banged on the door and no one answered. Finally the door swung open.

"Brian." Ben did not look amused.

"Excellent, Professor. You recognize the subject and can identify him by name."

"We've gone to bed."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. The Stepford Husbands turn in early!" He yelled it out at the neighborhood. This whole thing was bullshit. _They fuck up my life with this charade, make Justin believe it too. _

"Get in here, you'll wake the whole neighborhood." Brian stopped, took a last drag of his cigarette and stomped the butt out on Mikey's front porch. _How do ya like that?_

Once inside, he turned on Ben. "I want to see your wife. Where is the little woman? I mean, little husband?"

"If you're referring to Michael-"

"Who the fuck else, would I be referring to?"

"He's asleep." _I don't believe this. Fuck._

"Rouse him. Wake him up." Ben didn't move. "Michael!" Brian yelled toward the stairs. "Get your ass down here!"

"All right, all right, you better go." Ben began pushing him towards the door.

"I'm not going anywhere." _Not until I give that little shit a piece of my mind. Not until he gives me Justin back._ "Michael!"

"No, I said, get your drunken ass out of my house." Brian jerked his arm out of Ben's grip.

"Ben. It's okay." Michael's voice on the stairs made them both stop, staring at each other like cats about to fight. Neither dared to back down or look away. Michael stood beside Ben, staring at Brian. "I'll handle it, just, go to bed."

"You sure?" Ben didn't break eye contact. The guy was good. Michael nodded. Brian grinned at him. Another win for Kinney. Ben shook his head, turning back up the stairs. Brian turned his attention to Michael, who was staring at him questioningly.

"Well, Mikey…congratulations."

"For what?" _What do you mean 'For what?' You know exactly what I'm talking about. _

"You won!" _You got him. All to yourself._ "To the spoiler goes the victory." _Justin's the one thing I can never keep._

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. No one plays dewy-eyed innocent better than you. Although at thirty-four, you're getting a little bit long in the tooth for short pants."

"Speaking of outgrowing your act! Nothing's more pathetic- to use one of your favorite words- than an over-the-hill club boy." Michael turned away, walking towards the kitchen. Brian laughed sardonically, following close behind. Mikey pretending not to know what he's done. Not a new trick at all. He was getting tired of Michael never taking the blame for the shit he'd caused.

"You infected him!" Michael turned. Good, now Brian could really get in his face, get his point across. "With your petty, bourgeois, mediocre, conformist, assimilationist life! Thanks to you, he's got visions of babies, weddings, white picket fences, dancing in his blonde little head." _Things I cant give him. Even if I wanted to. It never works out. I cared about him, wasn't that enough?_

"And you think I put them there?" _Who else? Tell me, Mikey, who the fuck else?_

"Before you and your husband tied the noose around your necks, he was perfectly happy. And now, he's a defector. Just like the rest of you."

"He was never perfectly happy!" What? He didn't want to listen to this bullshit. He done everything he could to make Justin happy. '_Done'_ being the keyword. Saying things was not in his nature. Actions over words. And no one, not even Justin seemed to get that. "Waiting for years for you to say 'I love you, you're the only one I want.'" Brian cringed, the sickeningly romantic words make him want to punch something.

"That's not who I am!" _Justin knew that. And he stayed. Until you fucked it up._

"Don't we all know!" Fine. He sighed, then turned back.

"And now, he's here, in your house-"

"It's a home!" _Who cares?_

"It's a _farce_! It's a freak show!"

"Call it what you want. I honestly don't care. But he didn't leave because I infected him. He left because of _you_! Who wouldn't!"

_And I'm the heartless one, huh? So now everyone is leaving me. Well fuck them all. Fuck you, Justin. And fuck you, too, Mikey. Fuck this. _

He turned to leave, stiffening. Some tingling instinct in the back of his mind told him that Justin had heard everything. Fuck him. He left the stepford fag house without looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

Brian was actually in a sort of good mood. Brandon was out of the way, for now. And he was still on top. He walked down Liberty, sort of enjoying the cold.

He noticed a familiar form walking toward him and stopped in front of Justin.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Uncertain of what to say he nodded, then gently touched the No on Prop 14 button pinned to Justin's lapel. "How was the meeting?"

"You should have been there." Brian smiled.

"I'm not Rage, saving Gayopolis isn't my thing." _Marrying JT, giving him the kind of love he wants. That isn't either. Because I cant. _Justin nodded, seeming to understand the continuation of that sentence. Brian looked his Sunshine over.

"You doing okay?" _I miss you._

"Yeah, I'm fine. And you?"

"Likewise, thanks for asking." They nodded at each other, the undertones of the conversation, their emotions, their lives, too intertwined. It didn't used to be like this.

"Well, I guess I better get going."

"Me too." Justin smiled at him, and he felt a familiar warmth come up that was quickly replaced by the thought that the smile was no longer reserved just for him any more. He fidgeted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Well, take care of yourself."

"You too."

"Okay. See ya." It wasn't their usual 'Later.'

"See ya." Justin continued on, leaving Brian standing there. He frowned, almost turned to watch his Sunshine go, but thought better of it. When had that happened? They used to be able to talk about anything for hours on end. They used to be able to touch each other. What happened? Everything was changing.

Brian began walking again. Maybe he was still Stud of Liberty Avenue, but he had no idea how to deal with this sort of thing. He didn't know how to let his Sunshine go. And he didn't know how to deal with this thing in the pit of his stomach that had no name. _Dammit, Kinney, why cant you just say it?_ He let out a long breath. Everything had changed.


End file.
