


Briefly Yours

by Del Rion



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Angst, Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-02-28
Updated: 2007-05-05
Packaged: 2013-11-05 08:40:15
Rating: M
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,586
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3417998/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/666814/Del-Rion
Summary: Snippets reflecting the events of the show, during the five seasons. Short glimpses of love and life on Liberty Avenue. In a way connected with "Always Mine" and "Dirty His".





	1. Story Info

** Story Info **

**Title:** Briefly Yours

**Author:** Del Rion

**Fandom:** Queer as Folk

**Era:** 2000-2005

**Genre:** Drama, angst

**Rating:** M / FRM

**Summary:** Snippets reflecting the events of the show, during the five seasons. Short glimpses of love and life on Liberty Avenue.

**Warnings:** Slash, language, references to violence, death, drug abuse, underage sex, drunkenness, and attempted rape.

**Disclaimer:** The characters, original story, and the places belong to Showtime and the makers of the series. No harm intended; no profit made. I'm just borrowing.

**Beta:** Mythra

**Feedback:** Yes, please; it is much appreciated.

**Author's Notes:** English is not my native language, so it isn't perfect. Any mistakes left in this text – even after the wonderful work of my beta-reader – are all mine. No hard feelings…

And other than that, big thanks to my beta who has survived with me like a decent human being (even if might not deserve that at times)!

**

* * *

About _Briefly Yours_:** This is not actually a story, but a collection of short novels and ficlets. Therefore the story has no end, but it may "continue" whenever a new idea strikes me. The parts of this story (parts, not chapters) take place somewhere thorough the journey presented in the Showtime's TV-show "Queer as Folk". The parts are not tied together, either, so it doesn't matter in which order you read them.

Other than that… This is my first attempt at trying to write in this fandom. Sure, I might continue it years later, but this is still where I began my journey. Meaning: don't judge me too harshly!

**

* * *

Chapters and their status:** Here below you see the writing process of the story's parts – planned or written. If there is no text after the part's name, then it is finished and checked (until I do some updating…)

**Committed… not**  
**Guilty Love**  
**Shoot**  
**Poor Baby**  
**New First Time**  
**Hurt?**  
** "Love": a Lie**  
**Yes I Do**  
**Smooth Criminal**


	2. Committed not

**Committed… not**

"Are you asleep?"

For a moment, there is silence. Then, a groggy answer: "What do you think?"

"Well, I asked."

"Smartass…" A groan, a shifting weight moving the mattress, sheets slightly sliding against skin. "So?"

"So?"

"What?"

"What… what?"

Brian bounces and sits up on the bed, switching the lights on. "Tell me you woke up me up for _no_ reason, and you'll be sleeping on the couch from this moment on." His eyes are dark, like his face – sleepy and ominous. Brian's never happy when he's woken up in the middle of the night. And if that happens, in the following morning "bitch" doesn't even begin to cover the way he is…

Eyes so unnaturally aware at this kind of hour gaze back at Brian. Steady, unhesitating. There's something in there, unsaid yet so plain Brian can almost touch it. Not that he's really keen on making the effort to find out, quarter past two in the morning that it is. "Justin… Never mind. Just fuck you."

"Guess I don't have much of a choice as you're not," comes a reply from the young man.

"I'm not _what_?"

Justin finally turns so they are facing each other. "Fucking me," he says slowly, placing extra care on each word. "You don't fuck me."

Brian blinks, stares, then scratches his already messed up hair. A yawn follows, then a look into the direction of the living room. After a few long, silent seconds he looks back at Justin, everything but total seriousness falling from his face. "I do," he says tonelessly.

Justin just keeps staring at him, lying very still on his side of the bed. "Oh," he replies finally. His voice is almost hollow, unnatural compared to his usually passionate nature. A blink of the eye later he turns around, his back directed at Brian. A patch of pale skin is visible above the covers, almost like an invitation.

And it would be an invitation taken and devoured any other night but this one.

"Is that the problem? That we're not fucking often enough?" Brian keeps talking, even if only to Justin's back. "Because last time I checked, you were this non-rent paying, annoying stalker who wouldn't leave me alone, and who definitely isn't my–"

"Boyfriend, I know!" Justin bites back, voice slightly muffled by the mattress, his shoulders visibly tensing. "I'm just a miserable one-night stand who keeps coming back over and over again to bother you. But that didn't keep you from fucking me before."

Justin falls silent all of a sudden, and Brian snorts. "I told you that from the beginning. That we're nothing. You should be glad I'm even fucking you in the first place, and moreover because I let you spend your nights here."

"I _am_ fucking glad!" The outburst is violent, almost making Brian jump off the bed when Justin sits up to face him, blue eyes shining. "Every time you kiss me, touch me… Fuck, every time you _talk_ to me or even _look_ at me, I feel like the world's gonna end and I'm gonna die a happy man. And don't say how corny that sounds…" his voice goes lower, hushed, and his eyes fall to trace the covers bundled up between them. When he continues, there's a slight shiver in his voice. "Opposite to all I want to believe, I'm _not_ happy. I could fuck every cock and butt in Babylon – on Liberty Avenue – and still it wouldn't be enough. Because none of them would be _you_, Brian. They don't matter, any of them. Yes, call me pathetic, but that's just the sad little me!" There are tears in the blonde's eyes, threatening to fall. Justin must notice this because all of a sudden he attempts to turn away, to hide, but Brian is faster, catching his chin, keeping him still.

Brian is tempted to say he has always known he's special – but he doesn't speak a word. It is not the time for sarcasm and mockery. He keeps looking at Justin's eyes, as if trying to find the words the young man wants to hear. Of course he knows what Justin wants, even without asking. He has known it for a long while…

Practically he knows because at times he wants the same thing. Lately, he's been thinking about it more often, and it both scares and annoys him. Could he and Justin become steady? Monogamous? Committed? No, that's not it. They're not ready yet, and won't be for a long time. Especially Justin, who is still so young.

But there's a change taking place between them – a change that will eventually lead into what Justin wants. The kid is too impatient to notice this, but he will figure it out when the time is right. _If he's still here when it happens_, Brian reminds himself. _It will take time, for both of us, to come to terms with such a… thing._ The idea makes him shudder, and for a moment he wants to push Justin away, to get him the hell out of his loft, and his life.

Instead he draws Justin close, and leans back down on the bed, pulling the blonde with him, holding him close to this chest. His fingers caress warm skin, spiky hair. He says nothing. There's no need. Brian smiles and kisses the top of Justin's head, as a silent promise. Justin will understand when the time's ripe. Until then, they just have to keep struggling.

**The End**


	3. Guilty Love

**Author's Note:** Takes place during the episode 301. Justin's POV.

**

* * *

**

Guilty Love

It all happens so quickly: Brian draws back his fist and punches Michael in the face. Shouts erupt, filled with worry and shock. They tell him to leave, all giving him accusing looks. Brian looks confused, and then walks away, all those eyes still shooting daggers at his back.

I look after him, waiting him to look at me. Even a glance… But he doesn't, and instead of waiting to see what happens next, I turn around and leave as well.

I'm not stupid. I may not have heard what Mikey said, but it doesn't require much thought to figure it out. I want to go after Brian, to feel his arms around me – mine around him – and make him feel better. Because I know he did this for me. He hit _Michael_, his best friend, someone he has known since long before I came around. I want to go after Brian and say that it's ok; that we're ok. But that would only take me back to the situation from which I had just escaped.

If I went back to Brian, I wouldn't leave.

As we walk, Ethan takes my hand, and I feel terribly guilty. I like him, I really do. Perhaps I don't love him – not the way I still love Brian – but I care about him too much to ruin us now.

"Us"…

How funny it sounds. For once, I'm free to think like that. This was never the case with Brian, even if I liked to think so times… But that was only a dream. A kid's dream of love and happiness. Commitment.

I will have what I want with Ethan.

Brian will have what he wants with the rest of the world as his to fuck.

So why do I feel downcast all of a sudden? As if I've lost something important – vital… Something I want back.

**The End**


	4. Shoot

**Shoot**

"Just shoot."

"I'm not ready."

"Oh, for Christ's sake! Stop fondling the shaft, aim, and do it."

"I'll shoot when I'm ready," Justin states vehemently, his eyes never rising to meet Brian's intense gaze.

With an annoyed look, Brian places his fingers around his own slender pool cue, gripping it with a strength that looks painful. "Fine," he says back, shifting his hips back a little.

"Not everyone can be as quick as you, Brian," Emmett notes.

"No talking from the peanut gallery," the brunette bites back, his brown eyes returning to Justin's form. "Come on. You know you can't beat me anyway," he smirks, confident as always.

"Oh?" Justin raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. Then he focuses his attention back at the pool table beside him, leans a bit forward, and takes his shot. Balls knock against each other, the previously tight group splitting over the green area, two of them actually sinking into dark holes on the edges. "Ha!" Justin hoots, circling the table with light steps to get another shot.

Subtly, Brian steps closer, and just as the blond is about to make his next move, Brian lifts his cue to rest firmly between Justin's wide-spread legs. The teen yelps, and completely misses his intended aim.

Angry eyes turn to Brian in a nanosecond. "You cheat!"

"You love it when I cheat," Brian says with a low voice, taking a step towards Justin, tossing his cue on the pool table. Justin's follows suit, and the confused blond is drawn into his arms and a deep kiss.

There is coughing, laughter, and yelling beside them, but those sounds vanish from the minds of the duo as they kiss deeper, tongues playing. By the time Brian draws back, he has Justin sitting on the edge of the pool table, breathless and flushed.

"You're just afraid I'm gonna win," Justin murmurs, not looking like he actually cares about the interruption anymore.

"Not as long as I know how to play the game," Brian argues, then tilts his head to the side and dives in for another kiss, making Justin yelp in delight.

**The End**


	5. Poor Baby

**Poor Baby**

"Watch where you aim!"

"I am!"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Stop whining and lift it up!"

"I'm lifting. Would you stop pushing?"

"I'm _not_ pushing!"

"See, sonny-boy? There's a brilliant example of a 'queens at work' horror clip," Brian cooed at Gus, earning a glare from Ted and Emmett, who were struggling to put a cupboard together.

"We should have hired a professional," Emmett whined, taking off his gloves and throwing them aside.

"Some hunky hot stuff that you could have ogled at all day," Ted muttered, still fighting to make two of the pieces fit.

"Don't lose it over a piece of furniture," Michael intervened, entering the living room. "Here, let me help," he offered, taking one of the pieces Ted was holding.

There was a noise from the kitchen, and a blonde appeared in the doorway. "Aren't they sweet?" Justin laughed, taking in the scene before him, then crawled over the back of the couch to settle upside-down beside Brian and Gus. The child made a happy sound, immediately struggling to get closer to the blonde. The smiling father released him, and soon Gus was all over Justin, both laughing and making funny faces at each other.

"It's really nice that you're helping," Ted commented, a bit annoyed. He received a stuck-out tongue from Justin. "Now that's really mature."

"I'm a _teen_, remember?" Justin shot back.

"That's not what you've been telling me," Brian said, his fingers playing on Justin's stomach. "'Most mature person you know,' remember?"

"Fuck you," Justin retorted.

"Language."

"Such a daddy you are."

"I'll give you a nice parental spanking if you don't start behaving," Brian promised with a not-so-innocent look on his face.

"Eww!" and "Aww!" were the comments that followed from the other men in the room. Gus just made his usual baby-yell, slapping his hands repeatedly against Justin's chest.

"Promises, promises…" Justin hummed then, his fingers focused on tickling Gus.

"You never know," Brian said in return.

Justin threw him a sceptical look. "We have Gus over, so no can do."

"He can count the strikes," Brian decided after a thoughtful moment.

"Aww! Poor baby!" came an echoing answer from the general direction of Michael and Emmett.

"And which baby would that be?" Ted asked, looking up from his work on the cupboard.

Justin made a face, and Gus yelled happily.

**The End**


	6. New First Time

**Author's Note: **Takes place during episode 202. Justin's POV.

**

* * *

**

New First Time

* * *

"Like the first time?" he asks.

I barely manage to give him an answer. But he doesn't need a vocal confirmation, my Brian. He doesn't give a shit what others say. I used to wonder if he's telepathic, because he can see behind all the crap, lies, and pretence– and hunt down the truth, just like that. It makes some people hate him so much; because he tells them the truth, whether or not they want to hear it.

Usually they don't.

Maybe that's why I trust him so much, especially now as I feel more vulnerable than ever. My Brian doesn't put up with bullshit, nor does he offer any.

'My Brian.'

There it was again. Since when have I dared to think of him like that? On that first night we were together? Yeah, because back then I didn't know him, and thought he loved me.

Today… Well, the illusion of 'my Brian' is the only thing that makes these two nights similar. Because even if he promised to make love to me like he did back then, he isn't.

He's gentler. Slower. Loving to a point where it's almost ridiculous.

Perhaps it's real now.

Maybe now he does love me.

**The End**


	7. Hurt?

**Author's Notes:** Takes place after episode 214. Justin's POV.

**

* * *

**

Hurt?

* * *

Brian, at times, is the easiest person to live with. Mostly because he's an ignorant, dense bastard who only minds his own business. And Michael's, occasionally.

There are times when I would wish that he noticed things, just by himself, and then did something about them. Show some kind of reaction. But I have learned to deal with the opposite, and in the meanwhile I have also learned to appreciate it.

At times, I wonder how blind and uncaring he actually is. The level he reaches with his "all-for-myself" bullshit is unhealthy, I swear.

Like a few nights back, when I went to Sap's party, got drugged, and was almost raped… Brian told me from the beginning it wasn't a good idea to work at Babylon – or in general for the man who owns it. He perhaps didn't say it in so many words, but I got the hint. See if I cared.

I almost got hurt, bad. No one to blame except myself. I admit that freely.

When I went back to his place after the… _accident_, I tried to act normal. I ended up topping Brian for the first time in my life. How normal is that?

He said nothing, though. Did nothing. Maybe that's why I didn't press the matter, either. If I seemed so "ok" for him, maybe I was. Besides, had I told him, I would have been up for yet another round of "I told you so."

That I can live without.

**The End**


	8. Love: a Lie

**Author's Notes:** Justin's POV. Takes place during episode 510.

* * *

"**Love": a Lie**

* * *

"I love you."

No one knows how long and desperately I have waited to hear that. Three simple words… I have waited for what seems like an eternity. In fact, it's been about five years, but still… I have yearned for them with such passion that none should suffer the same.

Waited. Hoped. Ached.

Perhaps I've been lucky: people say those words very easily these days. Their meaning is almost hollow. Worn out. It doesn't mean as much as it's supposed to. With Brian, I knew that when – if – he should ever say it, he would mean it. Like he means it with Michael…

But right now, right here, under flashing lights and the echo of cries in my head that refuses to leave … I know he doesn't mean that. And it hurts almost worse than what just happened.

He is in shock, I can see that much. I don't blame him for being like this, I really don't. The wild, almost feverish look in his eyes… Of _course_ he is like this. Michael was taken away to the hospital, and for all I know, he might die. Like some others have tonight. All of Brian's friends, no matter how vehemently he claims not to care about them, might have died tonight. I could have.

"I love you."

He says it again. I refuse to answer, to show a reaction. He doesn't mean it. Not like he is supposed to. He doesn't say it for the right reasons. He will realize that sooner or later, and I don't want to crush my heart with a false dream. I'm no longer that naïve kid who thought he loved me just because he fucked me more than once, held me afterwards, and told me some of his perfectly kept secrets. Even that he let me – asked me – to live with him should've made my once foolish heart flutter with the 'knowledge' that he loved me.

I know better now.

I know better than to believe him.

Still it doesn't mean I don't hear the words, or don't want to say the same in return. I just can't. Not when I know it won't last.

**The End**


	9. Yes I Do

**Author's Notes:** Takes place around the episodes 511 and 513. Justin's POV.

**

* * *

Yes I Do

* * *

**

"_Of course, Brian! How I have waited for you to ask me that one thing since we first met!"_

I could have said that. And a lot more. None of that would have been a lie.

Instead, I laughed; didn't even look at him. I knew he didn't mean it. Compared to this, he had been totally sincere when he told me he loved me, on that night the bomb exploded inside Babylon. But now that he asks me this… I _know_ he doesn't mean it. And I tell him that, too. It hurts, the way he stares at me, in total shock.

He knew – believed – that I would say "yes".

I should have said that. The pain I feel overwhelming my body after he leaves isn't worth this. But I had to say "no", for the both our sakes. Because he will regret it, and I could never take what he isn't willing to give. In today's world, that might be the policy that leaves you poor and weak.

Yet I call it "love".

* * *

This house… It isn't a house. It's… I don't know. A castle? Yeah, a modern version of a castle. A manor. And he says we live here now; that this is our "home".

Oh Brian…

You're selling the loft, you gave up on Babylon, and still there's one thing you hold on to: me. And when you place it all before me like this, and all but ask my hand in marriage – again – can I say other than what you want me to say? Can I say "no" twice? Especially when time has passed since the nightmare of Babylon, and our lives should be back to normal…

I can't say no. I'm not that strong. And you know this is what I want – all I've ever wanted.

"Okay, let's do it." Yes, I do want to marry you, to keep you as mine, as I want you to keep me as yours.

I will save the proper words for the minister to hear, though. But all I can think in my head are two small, simple words: I do.

**The End**


	10. Smooth Criminal

**Author's Notes:** Takes place after Season 1, since Justin has already left St. James Academy. Brian's POV.

**

* * *

Smooth Criminal

* * *

**

"Justin, you do understand this is illegal, right?"

"Like what you do never is."

"Good point. But this still doesn't make you a better homosexual."

"No?"

"No."

"Then I guess you have to teach me a little better – and harder."

"Harder?" There's the way he says it that makes me think of something completely different than what I'm about to engage in.

"Mm…" Justin hums, thoughtfully. He's busy digging out equipment from his bag, crouching on the ground, but it's hard to miss the smile on his lips, however dark it is out here. I can always tell when he wears that smile; self-satisfied, flirting, and expectant. He knows that once we get back to my loft, he is going to get it 'hard'. The lesson, I mean. Can't keep from doing my best to educate him, or else I'll be stuck with him forever.

Not that he would mind, I think. Not at the moment, anyway; one day he'll change his mind, I'm sure. But for now we're both enjoying the ride.

"Come on, Brian. Help me up," Justin says, his voice hushed, but still insistent enough to get me to move immediately. I clasp my hands together, and boost him up when he steps on them. He's smirking, yet focused, carefully climbing up the fire escape ladder on the wall of the building.

I watch him go, promising myself that if he falls I won't even try to catch him. What makes me nervous is that I need to tell myself that to begin with. After all, it should be clear as day…

He's up the ladder now, balancing on the edge of the roof. Quick fingers work in a patter he's been practicing since he decided to do this. I watch him like a hawk, still dreading he'll topple over. My ears are the only part of me doing what I'm supposed to be doing with my whole presence: keeping watch.

The thought itself is ridiculous. Just imagine it: Brian Kinney, the most desired piece of flesh – and equipment – on Liberty Avenue; a top-ranking advertiser with infallible sense of style and glamour, keeping watch while his teenage-something is committing a hideous crime for the honor of the whole gay community. Okay, perhaps I went a little over the top back there somewhere, but who's going to fight me over it? Well, Justin would, even if he knows I don't do 'boyfriends'… And yes: that would have been the part that would've arrested his attention, not the rest of the exaggerated bullshit.

Still, I'm his partner in crime here, and honestly, there's no place I would rather be.

There's a sound from above and I look up, spotting Justin on his way down. I reach up and grab him about the waist when he drops down the last few feet.

He packs up his stuff and I glance up, unable to keep the grin from my face. He soon joins me, standing and watching his handiwork. It looks brilliant, in a way. Justin's learned some important lessons already, though he had this spirit of rebellion and dream-pursuing to begin with. Whatever I'll teach him, he will always be the one standing up for others, openly. Or not so openly, like tonight, but I'll let it slide.

Maybe I'm proud.

I nudge him on the shoulder, and together we spring away like kids from the scene of their mischief. When we break through the bushes lining the area, we can't refrain from laughing anymore. It feels good to let go like this, to see his face lit up, knowing my own is a mirror image. It is these moments between us I embrace most – after the fucking, of course. Nothing can compare to that… But this moment is so… liberating. He doesn't expect anything from me; nothing I'm not willing to give.

He keeps laughing when I scoop him into my arms. He's still making that funny sound between a giggle and a chuckle when I lift him up a little, swirling us around in some strange, morbid dance. He seemingly cannot remain silent, but my lips on his shut him up, finally. Not that I don't enjoy this display of life in him; but at times it's just better to vanish from the crime scene discretely, and his tittering won't allow us an unnoticed exit. Still, he doesn't mind my means of shutting him up, and in the end I'm the one fighting to breathe when his lips refuse to leave mine.

* * *

In the next day's newspaper it stands out from the front page:

_PRIDE ARISES_

In the picture that is taken of the side of the St. James Academy building, there's a flag of rainbow colors hanging from the drainpipe following the edge of the roof.

Yes: we're such slinky bastards, I think as I fold the paper again and sip from my cup of coffee. But it was Justin's idea.

**The End**


End file.
