


Under Different Circumstances

by Elayna Fournier



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-08-08
Updated: 2007-10-26
Packaged: 2013-11-28 04:58:42
Rating: T
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,373
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3711512/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/701890/Elayna-Fournier
Summary: Justin is just a whore, trying to survive. Brian just had a really bad day and just needed a little relief. What if Brian and Justin met under completely different circumstances? Would they still love each other?





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Queer as Folk or the characters, which is a pity because they're really pretty.

Chapter 1

It had been a bad day. No, scratch that, it had been a really fucking bad day.

Brian Kinney sighed as he took a long drink of his beer. It had been such a horrible day that he couldn't just brush it off. He had to dwell on it, it was such a fucking horrible day.

First, at work (Brian groaned at the thought of it) there had been that new account. (_The account that got away,_ Brian thought sadly). They had been trying to sell some kind of sex enhancement drug and were looking for a new angle to try to sell it. Unfortunately, after spending four hours with them, Brian was convinced that the new angle they were searching for did not exist. He'd spent _hours_ trying to find the right thing, but every time, there would be something off. Something that wasn't _just_ right. Something that blatantly screamed "I'M IMPERFECT!" to the clients.

Brian rolled his eyes just thinking about them. He'd thrown some of his best ideas at them and they had turned down every single one. All of them. On a lot of them, they didn't even look twice and had just dismissed them offhand.

One of the problems (which would haunt Brian until his dying day) on one of his ads was so simple as:

"The color," the haughty woman said, glaring at his ad.

"What about it?" Brian asked, internally rolling his eyes.

The woman shrugged. "I don't like it. It doesn't...stand out enough. I don't think the customers will respond well too it." She turned around and looked at Brian. "I don't want our ad to simply be another ad that will get lost in the crowd, Mr. Kinney."

Brian smiled at her and nodded slightly. This woman was positively crazy and fucking driving him crazy. "I understand your concern, but our polls have shown that people respond more often to blue than any other color."

The woman shook her head imperiously and retorted, "Well, that's today. What about tomorrow, or next week? Sure, people might respond well today, but what if it's only for today? I want you to be ahead of the curve."

Brian closed his eyes for a moment to control himself and nodded before looking back up at her. "What color would you like to use in your ad then?"

The woman shook her head. "Oh, there's no use to changing the color, Mr. Kinney. I don't like this ad anyways. I was just pointing out a slight problem your ads all seem to have. They're correct for today. They will sell our product today. But tomorrow, that's my concern."

"Well, the trends will always change, but we predict them as best we can," Brian said, a fake smile on his face.

The woman glared at him and then the ad, and then back at him. "Well, I'm afraid your predictions aren't quite up to our standards." She paused for a moment and then asked, "Do you have any more options for us to see?"

Yes, it had been a long, bad day.

Brian took another drink from his beer and sighed slightly as his best friend, Michael Novotny walked up and sat down.

"Bad day?" he asked as he ordered a drink.

Brian shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "One of the worst," he said, watching as a man with a great ass walked by. He'd had him before though, so he returned his attention to Michael.

Michael was sipping his own drink and glancing around at the men who were at Woody's. Brian shook his head slightly. He needed someone new, someone that he hadn't fucked before. And he wasn't going to find that here, apparently.

"Let's go to Babylon," Brian suggested, pulling on his jacket as two of his other friends, Emmet and Ted, walked up.

"Oh yay!" squealed Emmet, clapping his hands together, having only heard the word 'Babylon' and being excited to dance.

"Oh yay," Ted repeated, sounding downright dismal._ Another chance to be rejected by hot men,_ he thought sadly.

Brian looked at both of them for a moment before shaking his head and walking to the door without looking behind him. He knew that Michael would follow him- that was a given. And judging from Emmet's excitement, he'd also follow, and anywhere that Emmet went, Ted was sure to go.

So the group of friends began the walk over to Babylon, talking and joking around. Brian purposefully excluded himself from their conversation, leading the group to Babylon. He was hoping that his bad day could be easily remedied by a quick fuck with a hot ass.

But it had been such a bad day that he wasn't counting on it.

But then again, even on a bad day, Brian Kinney was still Brian Kinney.

Brian smiled slightly at that thought. Yes, it might have been a bad day, but it was probably going to be a good night.

Or at least that's what he thought before he got there. His mood diminished drastically when he learned that, not only were most of the men far below his standard, but he'd already had most of them.

Brian shook his head slightly as he stood at the bar, unable to believe his rotten luck. He knew that, when Babylon failed to cheer him up, there was only one course of action left to take:

Go home and hope that tomorrow would be better.

Which wasn't really too much of a competition, seeing as today fucking sucked.

So Brian danced a little, drank a little, and eventually tired of the club.

"Hey, Mikey," he said, leaning over to his friend who was sitting at the bar, watching as Emmet was dancing with some man. Ted sat next to Michael, also watching Emmet dancing and checking out men as they walked by. Brian rolled his eyes at his pathetic friends, but bit back a snide comment.

"What's up?" Michael asked, tearing his eyes away from a man with a hot ass.

"I think I'm calling it a night." Brian started to walk away, waving at his two friends. "I'll see you later."

Michael nodded and waved farewell, slightly worried for Brian. "Do you want me to drive you home?" Michael called after him, after thinking about it for a moment.

Ted looked at him, a slight glare on his face. If Michael left, they all left. Even Emmet looked over for a moment, realizing that something was happening. He walked over to Michael and Ted, looking interested. Brian had hesitated and then shrugged. "If you want," he said and continued to make his way out of the club.

Ted and Emmet looked at Michael questioningly before Michael also shrugged and made his way out of the club as well, following Brian as usual. Ted and Emmet followed Michael as well, each wondering why Michael always allowed Brian to have his way.

But the sight that greeted them was not one that filled any of them with great delight. Brian was talking to a young boy who was leaning against a lamppost. Michael had his arms crossed and was stomping his feet angrily.

"So how much?" Brian asked, trying to sound seductive. He'd seen this boy around before, hustling.

"Depends on what you're looking for," the boy smoothly replied, checking Brian out. He seemed to approve of his newest client.

Brian smiled insolently. "A good fuck."

The boy smirked slightly and said, "Ah, my specialty. $100. With a condom."

Brian shrugged, and without another word walked away to his car, gesturing for the boy to follow him. He smiled slightly at his great find. Sure, he was a hustler, but he was a hustler with a great ass.

So maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had not been a good day.

Justin Taylor groaned and lay his head on his desk as his math teacher, Mr. Smith, passed back the math tests they had taken a few days ago. _Fucking limits,_ he thought angrily, as he glared at the gigantic red F that adorned the top of his math test. He had studied so hard for this test too, knowing that he desperately needed to pull of a good grade in this class if he still planned on getting accepted into one of the Ivy Leagues.

Unfortunately, judging by the stream of bad grades he had been receiving recently, that didn't seem too likely. Justin sighed and shoved the test into his backpack angrily, ignoring the stares that he was getting from his classmates. He sighed internally and rolled his eyes. What, it's not like they had never gotten a bad grade on a test before. _In fact, _Justin thought bitterly, _they've probably gotten a lot worse than an...'F'. _Well, maybe not. But it still did a little bit to lift his foul mood.

He sat through the rest of the class doodling on a piece of paper, not really paying any attention to the lesson that Mr. Smith was trying to teach the restless class (which, on second thought, might also help explain why Justin was doing so poorly in his math class). But really, could he help it if Mr. Smith was a particularly unimpressive teacher who taught the most boring, pointless class in the entire school?

The bell rang, and not a moment too soon, in Justin's opinion. He immediately grabbed his backpack and began to head out of the classroom.

"Um, Mr. Taylor," called Mr. Smith's voice, halting Justin as he reached the door. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

Justin rolled his eyes and then forced a fake smile upon his face and turned around to face Mr. Smith. "Sure."

Mr. Smith sat down at his desk and gestured for Justin to come and stand in front of the desk. "Now," said the math teacher, shifting through the papers on his desk, "I've noticed that your grades have slowly been slipping over the past few months."

Justin nodded, fighting the urge to contradict the teacher. His grades hadn't been slowly slipping. No, indeed, they had been violently plummeting within the timespan of about a week.

"Normally, you are such a good student," Mr. Smith continued, "but I've noticed that you've stopped doing homework and that you aren't really paying attention in class anymore. Is there something wrong with your home life that's affecting your schoolwork?"

Justin shook his head innocently. "No, I've just been really tired recently. I just haven't been sleeping much I guess."

Mr. Smith nodded slightly. "Ah, a fellow insomniac." He pushed his glasses further up his nose and stared at Justin intently. "I suggest you talk to one of your parents about getting sleeping pills or something like that. Lack of sleep is a dangerous, unhealthy thing. I suggest you also talk to your doctor. You need help." He shook his head slightly. "I'd hate to see one of my best students fail because of an unfortunate circumstance."

Justin nodded and left the room quickly. Mr. Smith was one of his least favorite teachers, to be sure. It was nice to know that he cared about his well-being, but really. To go far as to suggest that Justin get sleeping pills? That seemed ridiculous to Justin. Although, to be fair, Justin hadn't really been too honest about why his grades were slipping or the reason why he wasn't sleeping as much as he probably should have.

The thing was, Justin had taken up a night job, and not a typical night job. At night, Justin would walk over to Liberty Avenue, stand on a corner, and hustle. He would get a client, go with him for about an hour, and earn about $100. Then he would head back to his corner and start all over again. Sometimes he could get up to four clients a night, but normally he stayed around two or three. After all, school was still really important to him and he didn't _really_ want to be sleeping during his classes.

But because of this nightly job, he had to face a lot of the consequences. One of which, apart from his slipping grades, was not so easy to fix. And she was heading towards him with a scowl on her face.

"Hi Daphne," Justin greeted the young girl hesitantly.

"Another F, Justin?" she asked, sounding frustrated. She had his math class, but sat on the other side of the room so she knew all about his bad grade and his chat with Mr. Smith.

Justin rolled his eyes. "It's only limits," he said, trying to defend himself.

"Oh, so that makes it okay to fail the test, because they're 'only limits'?" She rolled her eyes as well. "When are you going to stop this nightly job of yours?" She ended her question with a harsh glare.

Justin shrugged. "When my mom decides that having children means actually providing for them as well."

With that being said, Justin stomped off, frustrated with his best friend. He knew that she meant well, but it didn't really do much good. If things had been different at his home, then he wouldn't have gotten in to hustling to begin with. But his mother didn't generally care enough to put food on the table or have enough time. She was trying to get a divorce with his father, which meant trying get reach a point of financial stability so that it would work. Which left him to fend for himself. Unfortunately, Daphne didn't understand that he worked out of necessity, not desire. If he wanted to eat, then he had to work.

Which reminded him that it was lunch. So he headed to his locker to drop off his books before he went to the cafeteria. Unfortunately, Chris Hobbes intercepted him on his way to his locker, shoving him up against one of the walls, instantly gathering an audience.

Chris Hobbes was one of the jocks at their school. He was generally known as a fairly intolerant guy who enjoyed picking on people who weren't as strong as him. And, unfortunately, Justin just happened to be one of those people. But, what most of the others didn't realize was that Justin could easily blackmail Chris.

Once, during a detention, Justin had stopped by to help him, and, in the process, had given him a hand job (which he thoroughly enjoyed). Once news got out that Justin was gay, Chris made it his job to threaten and torment Justin as way of making sure he never told anyone about that incident. So far, Justin hadn't told, but he hadn't let him forget it either.

"Hey faggot!" yelled Chris as he pushed him into the wall. Justin's books toppled out of his arms and onto the ground as he glared at Hobbes. "Get out of my way!"

"Fuck you Hobbes," Justin shouted after him, bending down the pick up his things.

No, it had not been a good day at all.

But that didn't stop the day from continuing in its horrible haze. Justin still had two classes to go, plus art club. As it was, he had his two classes with both Daphne and Chris, and seeing as Daphne was angry at him and Chris always hated him, he really didn't have too much to look forward too.

Finally though, the school bell rang, signaling the end of school. Justin packed his backpack and slowly walked to the entrance of the school. Sometimes his mom would pick him up, if she managed to get over her depression for a few moments and realize that she did, indeed, have children. However, based off the fact that it had been such a horrible day, Justin was not at all surprised to discover that he was walking home. Again.

Oh well, he thought dejectedly as he began his walk home. It wasn't too far anyways. Well, not really. Plus, Justin wasn't really complaining. He did find his walks home to be mildly comforting. It gave him time to think about his future and the possibilities that it held. Or didn't hold, but whatever. Also, walking home gave Justin's images that he otherwise would not have. As a fledging artist, having images in his mind made his art that much more realistic. And more meaningful as well.

The only bad things about these walks was they always came to an end too soon. And Justin would trudge into his house in a depressed fashion and quickly change clothing before heading to Liberty Avenue. He had a system going on. He would arrive in Liberty Avenue and walk to a diner where a crazy red-haired lady, named Debbie, worked. He would order something to eat and then listen to her day and tell her about his in return. She was a really nice woman and he would even occasionally come back after one of his clients to grab a lemon bar and to talk to her a little bit more. Sure she was eccentric, but who on Liberty Avenue wasn't?

Thus the night begun and Justin's system as well.

Shortly after he got to the diner, he left, with a lemon bar in his hand to snack on while he found a client. So Justin walked through Liberty Avenue, munching on the lemon bar and trying to stake out a place for himself. Eventually, he found an appealing lamppost and leaned against it, quickly finishing his snack. Usually he didn't have to wait too long before a client would come and chose him, but today had been so horrible that Justin wasn't counting on any small miracles.

That is, before he saw him.

There he was, God himself, walking towards him. Justin stared at him, enamored by the being who was walking in his direction. He was beautiful. Brown hair, tall, lean, brown pretty eyes. Justin felt his heart stop as he realized that the man was truly walking towards him.

"So how much?" the man asked, leaning against the pole as well.

"Depends on what you're looking for," Justin smoothly replied, sounding more suave than he felt.

"A good fuck," came the retort.

Justin smirked slightly. "Ah, my specialty. $100. With a condom."

The man shrugged and walked away, gesturing for Justin to follow. A smile on his face, Justin took after the tall man, stunned by his good fortune as he slid into the car.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The alarm clock was ringing. Really loudly. Right in Brian's ear.

Groaning, Brian rolled over and slammed his hand on the alarm and rolled back over. Then he abruptly opened his eyes. Something was different.

He rolled back over and came face to face with a little blond boy who was looking at him oddly. And then it all came rushing back to Brian. The bad day, lack of new men at Babylon, the boy had a hot ass...he was a hustler. Oh shit. Had Brian really stooped so low as to hire a prostitute? Glancing at the boy beside him, who was now looking at the ceiling, Brian nodded slightly. He had stooped that low.

_Fuck_, he thought eloquently. _How much was he charging? _

Of all the stupid, retarded things that Brian did when he was mildly depressed and drunk...he just had to hire a prostitute. And not only had he hired a hustler, but he hired one who only looked like he was 16 or 17 years old. Which was... illegal at best. Damn...shit...fuck.

"So," the boy said softly, looking at Brian intently. Brian looked back and found himself getting lost in the boy's (_Fuck, what was his name?)_ blue eyes.

Brian sat up, utterly angry at himself for his serious lack of judgment. He'd probably only seen a pretty blond boy with a great ass and hadn't even considered any consequences. _Oh well_, Brian thought, and decided that lamenting on it was really a pointless idea. Plus, now that his memory was restoring itself, Brian remembered that he was quite a good fuck. Apparently there was a reason the boy was a good hustler. If only he could remember his name...

"What's your name?" he asked stupidly, sounding more hung over than he felt.

"Justin," the boy responded, smiling slightly.

"How old are you?"

Justin hesitated at this question. "It depends," he finally responded, "how old do you want me to be?" Justin flashed a mildly seductive smile at Brian, and he felt something inside of him melt slightly. In a non-attachment kind of way.

"I want you to be the age you truly are," Brian retorted dryly, not wanting to put up with the fantasy of a hustler's world.

Justin laughed slightly, but still hesitated in his answer. Finally he said, "I'm 17."

Brian groaned slightly and rolled his eyes. "A child," he muttered. "I fucked a child."

Justin shrugged. "You didn't think so last night."

Brian rolled his eyes again and flopped down on the bed. Well, this would go nicely on Brian Kinney's resumé of men (and now boys) that have been fucked by him. Oh well, it had just been a matter of time anyways. What shocked him most was the fact that Justin was so young. Then again, Brian also knew that most of the hustlers were probably around his age, and some were probably even younger.

"And how much were you charging?" Brian asked, aware that he probably knew, somewhere in his sleep hazed mind. Why did he insist on waking up so early?

"$100," Justin responded.

Brian nodded. The boy was fairly cheap, considering some of the other hustlers he'd come across. He didn't usually hire any, but curiosity kept him checking up on the boys now and then.

The two sat there in total silence for a few minutes, Brian staring a the wall and Justin occasionally sneaking glances at Brian, as if trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"If it makes you feel better," Justin said suddenly, "I turn 18 in a few days. Well, a week, but still. So you were only fucking a minor by a week."

Brian chuckled slightly and turned to look at Justin. "Well, now I feel like a saved man," he said sarcastically. After thinking for a few more moments he asked, "Don't you have school today?"

Justin shrugged and then nodded. "In a few hours. Usually I would have gone home after I'd finished my job, but that clearly didn't happen."

"Why didn't you go home afterwards?" Brian asked, raking his memory for what might have happened in terms of conversation. But all he really remembered was fucking, which was good enough of a memory for Brian to be content.

Justin raised his eyebrows. "You _asked_ me to stay, remember?"

Brian shook his head. "No..."

Justin laughed slightly. "It figures," he responded, laying back against the bed. "You seemed slightly...intoxicated."

The two lapsed into silence for a while longer, this time neither one of them seemed to want to break it.

"So, what do you do?" Justin asked tentatively after a moment.

Brian looked over at Justin and for a moment, he regretted asking the question. "I'm an ad executive," Brian finally responded. "I basically take a company's product and make it look good to the customer."

Justin nodded slightly. So that would explain why he had such a nice place. Brian must have been a huge success. Well, he was cocky enough.

"What do _you _do?" Brian asked, a mocking tone in his voice.

Justin glanced at him and answered regardless of the tone that he was employing. "I'm a student. But I will be going to college to become an artist. I think. It's always been my dream to be a well known artist, able to express my opinion through art without limitations."

Brian nodded slightly. "Are you good?"

"What?" Justin looked surprised at the question.

"I said, are you good?" Brian repeated, this time slower and with more enunciation.

Was he good? Justin began to ponder this question. Of course he was good. Wasn't he? It was really relative, he supposed. Some people would probably hate his work, but there would be others who would be astounded by his paintings. So was he good? Well, people always told him that he had a good perception of the human form. He guessed that meant that he had talent.

"Yeah," said Justin, a slight tilt to his head. "I'm good."

Brian smiled slightly and nodded. It was tough, he knew, the life of an artist. To be the best, you had to think you were the best. Even if you knew it wasn't true, you had to at least have the attitude. It was the attitude that was worthwhile, after all. It was what would save him, even if his artwork couldn't. Without the attitude, he would have failed before he started.

"Hey, would it be alright if I took a shower before I go to school?" Justin asked, sounding timid for the first time since Brian had met him.

Brian nodded and pointed his finger in the direction of his bathroom. "It's through there," he muttered and watched as the boy walked in the direction that he had pointed.

Brian watched him go with a small smile on his face. Yes, the boy did indeed have a great ass.

When he heard the shower start, he dragged himself out of bed and walked out into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and began to rummage around one of his wallets for money. The boy had said $100, right? Brian chuckled slightly. It was amazing how much one bad day had cost him.

He set the money aside on a table where it would be easy to simply hand to Justin on his way out and then walked towards the shower to wait for him to finish showering. He was really paranoid and didn't want the little hustler to slip something into a pocket or something.

He gently pushed the bathroom door open and watched as Justin turned off the water and ran his hands through his wet hair. Brian was impressed with how...pretty the boy was. He was like porcelain almost, with his chiseled face and body. Brian watched with interest as he grabbed a towel to dry off his body and was sad when he covered it with his clothing. What a waste, covering that gorgeous ass with unnecessary clothing.

When Brian noticed that Justin was fully clothed and was ready to leave, he stepped away from the bathroom door and walked away to wait in his kitchen.

Justin was about to head into the other room to find Brian when he paused to look in the mirror, just to make sure he looked acceptable for school. He looked fine, so he walked out into the other room where he found Brian drinking a glass of water. Justin watched for a moment, a small smile on his face before he cleared his throat, gaining Brian's attention fast.

"Would you mind dropping me off at school?" Justin asked timidly.

Brian nodded slightly and immediately walked towards the door, pausing for Justin to catch up.

He reached down and grabbed a wad of money on the table. "Here's your payment, $100."

Justin looked at it for a moment and then glanced up at Brian's face, shaking his head. "I can't accept this," he said, making his way to the door.

"What?" Brian asked, confused. "Why not."

Justin paused and turned to look at him with a sad smile on his face. "Under different circumstances, I would have fallen in love with you, I think. I'm not going to take money from someone that I could have loved if only life had been dealt in a different manner."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Daphne!" Justin called out, rushing after his friend. "Daphne, wait! I know you're angry at me but really. I have something to tell you!"

"Oh, are you quitting?" she asked turning around suddenly, almost causing Justin to fall over as he came to an abrupt halt.

"Well...no, but," Justin started and then had to stop as Daphne started to walk away from him again. "Daphne, I have to tell you about the most wonderful thing in the world. Well...the most wonderful man in the world."

Daphne turned around again. "Oh no," she muttered. "You didn't."

Justin halted, a confused look on his face." What?"

"You fell in love with one of your clients!" she shrieked, rolling her eyes. "I told you that this was going to happen, but you never listen! Now you're in love with some 50 year old perv who can't get anyone unless he pays them. Justin..."

"Hey, hey," Justin said, waving his arms to try to get her to shut up. "I didn't fall in love with one of my clients. Or, at least not one of my regulars."

"But he was still a pathetic 50 year old perv?" Daphne asked, a slight smile gracing her face. Justin laughed slightly and shook his head. Daphne always liked to make things sound 10 times worse than they really were.

"No, he was actually..." Justin trailed off, unable to find the words to describe how amazing Brian was. "Let's just say, I saw the face of god last night."

Daphne raised her eyebrows and shook her head slightly in disbelief. "So, you're really in love with this guy?"

Justin shrugged, almost helplessly. "I don't know. I just...last night was different," he tried to explain. "

"Different," Daphne repeated, skepticism filling her voice. She had her arms crossed and Justin realized that it was going to take a lot more to make her understand what he meant.

"I mean..." Justin trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew what he was trying to say, but then again, he'd been the one who experienced it. He didn't need to be convinced of how incredible being with Brian was. There were simply no words that could express what happened- mentally, emotionally- while he was in the loft with the older man.

So Justin just stood there, trying to find the words to tell Daphne of his wonderful experience. However, in the meantime, Daphne was standing there, staring at him as if he had lost his mind, as were several other people walking through the hallway. So Justin grabbed her arm and began to walk out to the football field, where they could sit on the wall and discuss Justin's recent infatuation. Plus, it gave him extra time to think about what to say.

Daphne allowed herself to be pulled to a place to sit and waited for her friend to tell her what had happened. It wasn't that she didn't approve of Justin finding an older lover, it was just that she didn't want to see Justin getting hurt because he couldn't see the line between a client and a potential lover.

When they finally found a good place to sit, they both sat down, neither of them talking yet. Justin was still mulling over what he wanted to tell Daphne in order to get her to understand.

"Have you...have you ever had a pet before?" Justin finally asked, looking up into his friend's eyes. He could see confusion on her face and bit back the urge to laugh at her.

"Well yeah," she answered, shrugging. "I was a lot younger and he was a cat." At this, she chuckled slightly. "I named him Freddie, because it rhymed with my favorite stuffed animal's name: Teddy."

Justin laughed, but didn't allow himself to get sidetracked. "You loved your cat, didn't you? From the moment you saw him in the store, you loved that little furball."

Daphne nodded. "Yeah. It was really funny because I found him at an animal shelter. He was all scrawny and looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He was one that had just been brought in, you know. My mom had tried to dissuade me from picking him out, but when I saw him...I don't know, I knew that he was the cat for me, even though he tore the heck out of my arm when I picked him up." Daphne laughed. "I guess you could say it was love at first scratch."

Understanding suddenly filled her eyes as she took in the point of the story. Justin smiled, glad that he had found an acceptable analogy, no matter how seemingly unrelated it had been.

"Exactly Daph," Justin said softly. "There's no way to explain an instant connection, it's just there." Justin shrugged and stared off across the field, watching the football team practice for a few moments. "I guess...I guess, when I was with him, something just felt right." A smile flashed across his face. "For the first time, it felt _so _right."

Daphne smiled slightly, but a frown almost immediately began to tug on her face. "I'm glad," she muttered. "I just...I don't see how any relationship could possibly work if you're still hustling."

Justin's eyebrows raised and the smile on his face quickly vanished. "What?" he asked softly, sounding incredulous.

Shifting uncomfortably, she elaborated, "Well, I can't imagine any man would want his partner to be a whore. Not to mention, this man might not even think about you in any other manner than a whore. I mean, that is the context under which you first saw him. Maybe if you stopped hustling and went back to find him, it could work. But face it, Justin, men want you for one thing, and it's not your good company."

Hurt and disbelief immediately washed over Justin's face as her words struck him. Daphne instantly regretted the blunt way in which she had spoken. She hadn't meant to make it seem as if he were only a sex toy. It just...it was his profession! _Which_, she thought, _probably requires a little more tact while discussing it. _

Before she could apologize or amend what she was saying, Justin got up without a word and walked off across the field, not looking back. Daphne bit her lower lip and considered going after him, but changed her mind. Maybe she had been wrong to say that, but, deep down, she knew that she had meant it. And Daphne was not about to apologize for something that she knew needed to be said.

Brian entered the diner and looked around, immediately spotting his three friends sitting over at their usual table. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips for a moment before he wiped it off and sauntered over to the table.

It turned out that they were discussing Michael's recent sex problem- or, to be more accurate, his lack thereof.

"I don't know," Michael said, playing with a plate of eggs that were probably cold, "I know he was attractive and all, but..."

"But what?" Ted asked incredulously. "What else could you possibly want."

"Well, I mean, personality is always nice, and a good job, and possibly success."

"You're looking for a sugar daddy," Emmet teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

Michael shrugged, but didn't deny it as he grinned sheepishly at his plate. "Well," he said after a moment, "you can't all be completely interested in my love life." He looked over at Brian and an impish smile crossed his face. "Who was the guy you left with last night?" he teased innocently.

Brian shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "Nobody important," he replied smoothly. "He was just a hustler. Well...kinda."

Shocked silence fell around the table. Brian Kinney hired a hustler? He had to _pay_ someone to have sex with him? What was happening to the world? Before you knew it, Emmet would be straight and Debbie would mind her own business.

"Wait," Ted broke in, thinking about the previous night. "You're talking about the small blond boy, right?"

"The one with the great ass?" confirmed Brian, nodding slightly, a small smile on his face.

"He looked kinda young to be a hustler," mused Emmet, taking a bite of his bagel.

It might have just been the others' imagination, but they could have sworn they saw concern flash across Brian's face. But if he cared, he didn't show it and if he had shown it on his face, it hadn't lasted long enough to matter. "He was...He was only 17," Brian muttered, taking another sip of his coffee.

Once again, the table descended into shocked silence. Not only had Brian Kinney hired a hustler, but he had hired a minor. That was two felonies in one blow!

"Brian, you are aware that that's...um, illegal, right?" Michael muttered softly, looking around warily, as if half expecting a cop to swoop down and arrest Brian right there on the spot.

"No, really?" Brian asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Emmet shook his head slightly, his way of expressing his disapproval and Ted glared at Brian, unable to believe that he lacked so many morals.

Michael, on the other hand, preferred to verbally express his disapproval for his friend's actions. "I can't believe you'd do that," he hissed, sounding angry. Brian bit back a snide comment about how Michael was only upset because he hadn't been with him last night and was cut off from saying anything by the arrival of Debbie.

"What'd he do this time?" she asked, shooting a glare at Brian, who rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he told them anything anymore. Everything seemed to blow out of proportion. All the time.

Then again, the shock value seemed to always make it worthwhile.

"He hired a 17 year old hustler to go home with him last night," Michael muttered accusingly. Debbie raised her eyebrow and looked at Brian.

"You had to pay someone to fuck?" she asked, a laugh in her voice. "I hope you paid the poor kid well." With that being said, she walked away. Brian stared after her. Debbie always managed to get under his skin, even more than all of his friends' constant admonishes.

"Which brings up a good point," Emmet pointed out. "How much did you pay him?"

"Yeah, what would a prostitute classy enough to go home with Brian Kinney charge?" asked Ted, looking mildly interested. _Typical accountant, _Brian thought, _always concerned with money._

"Yeah, I hope he charged you a small fortune," a bitter Michael added.

Which brought Brian to an interesting place. He didn't pay the kid anything. He didn't let him. Which was the most troubling thing, he supposed. He'd never met a prostitute who would refuse money. Hell, he'd never met _anyone_ who refused money.

So Brian simply stared into his cup of coffee blankly and replied, "He didn't accept the payment."

A.N. Hey, thus far, I hope you're enjoying this story. Thank you for reading. Please review- they fill me with great joy, really they do.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Mom, I'm home," Justin shouted when he walked into the house, throwing his backpack on the floor next to the door. With any luck, his mom would be at work until late, which would leave him free to go as he wanted without having to make up any bad excuses. Eventually, he had a feeling that his mom would stop believing that he went to Daphne's house every night until the early morning hours. Then again, he wasn't entirely sure that his mother even noticed that he was gone.

Justin proceeded to walk further into his house, walking through the kitchen to attempt to find something to munch on. He hadn't had time to eat lunch because he had decided to tell Daphne about the potential love of his life. He scoffed slightly at the thought of their conversation.

_So much for that,_ he thought bitterly, pulling out an apple from the refrigerator. He had never expected Daphne to react like that. Well, actually, he kinda did, but it didn't excuse it. She had been unfair and cruel to say the least. Even though she had basically voiced Justin's own thoughts.

Justin sighed and started to head into the living room to sit and think about the rotten turn his life had taken. Only to be met with a swift punch in the stomach.

Justin doubled over in pain, gasping slightly. He looked up and saw his father standing there, staring at him with a drunken look of anger on his face. Justin glanced at the clock that was behind his father. It was only 4:00. His father should still be at work.

"You useless, disgusting little shit," his father hissed, slurring his words, confirming that he was, indeed, drunk. Justin backed away slightly, bringing his arm up to rest around his waist. It was really a shame that his father had done wrestling when he was in school, because Justin had a feeling that it was really aiding him in tormenting his son.

Ever since Justin had come out to his family, his father had developed a personal vendetta against him. It was like he blamed Justin for everything. His financial problems, the potential divorce, his alcohol consumption problem. Everything. If it could be classified as a problem, it was immediately Justin's fault. Which would inevitably lead to more alcohol consumption, which would eventually lead to some type of beating.

Justin winced as his father raised his fist to strike him again, but was spared the blow by his mother, who came rushing into the room. Relief washed over Justin and he straightened, inching his way towards the stairs. His room was generally a safer place, away from his crazy father's fist and his mother's persistent questions.

"Justin," his mother's voice called out, halting him on the second step. He stood there, waiting for her to continue without turning around. "Where were you last night?" she asked half-heartedly. Justin could tell that she really didn't care too much and was just asking to fulfill her parently duty.

Forcing a smile, Justin turned around and said, "I was at Daphne's house. We were studying for our biology test that's tomorrow."

"Oh," his mother murmured absently, nodding. "Alright, go do your homework." Also known as: Leave While You Can.

Justin chuckled slightly, as he walked up the staircase. If his mother had paid attention at all, she would have known that he didn't even have biology. He was in a physics class, having taken biology three years ago.

When he got to his room, Justin closed his door and threw himself onto his bed, wincing in mild pain at the jolt that went through his body. Bringing his arm to his waist again, he merely lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He knew that he would have to get ready for work in a little bit, which also meant that he should probably be doing his homework and finding food right then. But, at the moment, he didn't really care enough.

No matter what, his thoughts would always go back to Brian. A smile graced Justin's face at the mere thought of his name. Justin couldn't imagine anyone more sophisticated, more suave, more...more perfect than Brian. He could just see his face, his abs, his arms...He was simply amazing.

And he was haunting Justin's every thought without any sign of regret or remorse.

_What's he doing now? Is he thinking of me right now? Did the other night mean as much to him as it did to me?_ Justin thoughts whirled endlessly. However, on top of his desire for Brian haunting him, he also had Daphne's words lingering in his mind as well.

_Men want you for one thing..._

Justin shook his head at this thought. For most his clients that was true, but Justin still firmly believed that Brian was different. It had simply _felt_ different, which meant that it had to be judged differently from his normal clients.

_"Maybe I'll see him tonight, and he'll sweep me away and I'll never have to do this again!" _Justin thought happily. But the thought quickly vaporized when he realized the reality of his life.

Maybe if he were named Cinderella or Snow White, then Brian would save him from his life. But in his reality, his name was Justin and he didn't for see a savior in Brian any time soon.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

6:00.

Justin sighed and hit the alarm that he set in order to know when to start getting ready to leave. He stood up and stretched his arms out, yawning. Generally Justin would have gotten a short nap so that he wouldn't be falling asleep on the job, but Brian was consuming even that.

Rolling his eyes at how pathetic his thoughts sounded, Justin began to go through his closet to find something acceptable to wear. After a few minutes of seemingly fruitless searching, Justin found a black tank top and pulled it on quickly. If he wanted to stop at the diner for food and good company, he would have to leave in a few minutes.

Quickly running a brush through his hair, Justin began to head for the door, pausing to stare in a mirror for a few moments. Satisfied with his reflection, Justin grabbed his jacket and left his room, closing his door softly.

At the top of the stairs, he paused and listened for any loud sounds. After a minute, he heard snoring coming from the couch in the living room and decided that his father must be passed out. With a small smile on his face, he walked down the stairs into the kitchen, wrote his mother a quick note (_I'm at Daphne's)_, and left silently.

"So," Lindsey said, rocking back and forth with Gus in her arms. "Who's this new boy toy everyone's talking about?"

Brian rolled his eyes and stood up, surprised that it had gotten to Lindsey, surprised that she cared. She never seemed to pay any attention to his sex life, mainly because it was so inconsistent (in terms of who the partner was). He didn't understand why everyone was making such a big deal over Justin.

So Brian shrugged and began to pace slightly. "He was standing by a lamppost, I asked how much, and we went back to my place." He stopped pacing and turned to look at Lindsey. "That was it."

Lindsey raised her eyebrows and a small smirk crossed her face. "How much?" she asked, a laugh in her voice. "You had to _pay_ someone for sex?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "I didn't _have _to. I _chose_ to...technically."

Raising her eyebrows, she repeated, "Technically?"

Great. Now he had to explain this too. One of these days he would learn to hold his tongue. Until then, he would continue to dig his own verbal grave. "Well," he started, "when I went to pay him, he blew me off and mentioned something about different circumstances and love and...well, it really didn't make too much sense."

"He didn't accept the payment?" Lindsey was shocked. She'd never heard of a hustler who wouldn't accept money.

Brian shrugged again. "No." He chuckled slightly and shook his head. "I don't really know why either."

Lindsey laughed slightly at Brian's incredulous expression. He could be so oblivious sometimes. "He obviously felt wrong taking the money from you," she said, a small smile on her face.

Brian raised his eyebrows, not liking what she was implying. After all, the boy was a hustler and slept with a lot of different men. Why should he be so different? In fact, Brian was sure that the boy's refusal of payment was a...was a thank you in a way. Yes, that was it. A thank you. Thank you Brian Kinney for _allowing _me to be fucked by you. Yes. That had to be the explanation.

Brian growled softly and shook his head. Why was he letting the boy affect him so much? It had just been another fuck. Nothing more, nothing less. However, that thought didn't get rid of the disconcerting thoughts of Justin.

Lindsey smiled as she watched Brian work through his thoughts. It was odd that he was showing a mild display of affection towards someone, especially someone who was meant to merely be a fuck toy.

"Maybe you should find him again," she suggested carefully. "You could talk things out and maybe it'd give you peace of mind."

Brian scoffed and turned to face Lindsey. "Ha, yeah, and then I'll ask him to move in with me and before you know it we'll be a fucking married couple." He made a face. "How hetero sounding," he spat, as if the word brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Which, on second thought, it probably did.

With that said, Brian grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house, leaving Lindsey alone and mildly frustrated.

A.N. Thanks for reading. Please review. It lights up my life.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"ID?" the guard at the door to Babylon said around a yawn. Justin smiled slightly at his inability to hide his boredom.

After showing the guard his fake ID (which nicely said that he was 22 years old), Justin walked in slowly, adding a slight sway to his hips and a bounce to his step as he walked through the crowd. Occasionally he was able to find clients at Babylon, so it was always a good idea to exude the idea of sex from the very instant he stepped into the club. Which, if Justin thought about it, he was very good at.

Thus began the night for Justin. Revolving around the dance floor, trying to catch a few clients, and dancing to the music when a good song came on. Justin smiled slightly as one of his favorite songs came on. Now all he needed was someone to dance with. He gazed around and saw a tall man standing by the bar with a two shorter men. He looked older, but kind of cute, so he walked over to him, still swaying his hips seductively.

"Hey," Justin called out at the tall man. He turned to look at him with a mildly interested expression on his face. His two friends also looked up, frowning slightly. Justin glanced over the three of them and was surprised that he recognized their faces from somewhere. He stared at the short man with the dark hair and cute smile, knowing that he had seen him somewhere before quite recently.

The tall man looked Justin up and down before looking away. "Hey," he said in response, waiting for Justin to continue.

Justin looked back at him, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to figure out where he'd seen them before. He glanced over all three and then did a double take on the short man with dark hair. He was all but glaring at him, exuding as much hostility as he possibly could. That made it even more important for Justin to remember who they were.

Wracking his memory, Justin thought as hard as he could over the past few days. And then, suddenly, it hit him.

_"So how much?" _

_"Depends on what you're looking for." _

_"A good fuck."_

Oh... They were _his_ friends. Which could explain the hostility. Justin smiled disarmingly and slowly began backing away. "Sorry," he said, "I thought you were someone else."

"One of your other clients?" the short brunette said, even sounding hostile. The tall man nudged him with his elbow and smiled at Justin.

"Don't mind him, sweetie. Who are you looking for?" he asked nicely.

Justin shrugged. "It was a good song. I was looking for someone to dance with."

"How much do you charge for that?" the short man said snidely.

The tall man glared at him and then turned back to Justin. "I'm Emmett," he said, extending his hand to Justin, who took it gratefully. "This is Ted," he said, pointing to the sullen looking man on his right, "and this is Michael." He pointed to the man who had been verbally attacking him. "You'll have to excuse him," Emmett said softly. "He's been in a bad mood all day."

Justin shook his head, easily dismissing it. "I'm Justin," he said, smiling at the three men. The man called Michael simply frowned and turned back to the bar without saying anything.

Just then, a man walked up and grabbed Justin by the arm and began to pull him away from the three men. Justin began to struggle, attempting to pull away from him when he turned around and looked at the man, only to see one of his regular clients. Instantly putting a sexy smile on his face and a seductive sway to his hips.

"The ususal?" Justin asked in a low voice.

The man smiled and Justin suppressed a shudder of revulsion. He wasn't an attractive man, and he wasn't necessarily cleanly. It really wasn't hard to see why he had to pay for sex. But money was money, regardless of who was paying.

So he followed the man in the back rooms willingly. As he was about to enter the room, he caught sight of a man with brown hair who was dancing with another attractive man. Justin paused and gazed at him. Could it be?

The brunette suddenly grabbed the man he was dancing with and also began to head to the back rooms. He looked up and Justin found himself looking in the eyes of one Brian Kinney.

Justin gasped and felt his heart rate speed up. He was suddenly nervous and his palms were sweating profusely. And all of a sudden, he wanted to do nothing else than throw himself into his arms and ravish him, right there on the spot. However, his client was becoming impatient and was attempting to get Justin to move by gently pulling on his arm.

Justin shook his head slightly and complied with his client, accepting the $100 that he slipped into his hand. This was work. There would be time for pleasure later.

Brian smiled ferally as he was shoved against the wall by his most recent trick. He was a very attractive man...almost as attractive as Brian himself. Almost.

As the trick (_what was his name...?)_ began to play with the button on his jeans, Brian, for some unknown reason, looked up and gazed around the back room. As he looked around, a certain blond head caught his eyes. Brian looked at him. He was surprised at the twinge of...jealousy? Sorrow? Regardless, he definitely wasn't supposed to be feeling anything toward this trick. Nothing at all.

Brian shook his head, as if trying to physically dislodge the thoughts of Justin. Instead, he merely relaxed and enjoyed the company of his most recent trick.

However, when he closed his eyes, he was haunted by a certain blue-eyed, blond boy.

"You're great," the man panted as he pat Justin's cheek occasionally.

Justin smiled his thanks, but inwardly scowled at the man. He hated it when people pat his cheek. It made him feel like a toddler again.

The man walked away, turning around and winking at him. Justin smiled slightly and gave a small wave, not having the energy to do anything else. Running his hands through his hair, Justin started to head for the exit and back into the club. He still had a long night ahead of him, and he figured he might as well get some dancing in before he went to his usual corner. After all, he was already there.

What he didn't expect was the sudden presence that sidled up behind him as he was walking toward the dance floor.

"Come on," a low voice said in his ear. Justin turned around, somewhat surprised that someone was already behind him. He was doubly surprised when he saw that it was none other than Brian.

Justin shot an immediate grin at the man and felt his nervousness return almost immediately. Brian smirked back at him, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him onto the dance floor.

The two began to dance, first somewhat hesitantly, then with fierceness that neither of them knew they possessed. They moved together, fluidly, as if they were one entity. Heads turned and watched them briefly, taken in by how well the two worked together.

For Brian and Justin, it was if the rest of the room didn't exist. It was just them and the music, dancing along to the beat. And they danced, not caring about the world around them. Justin forgot about his home life and his financial situation. He forgot what he was supposed to be doing that night, forgot about his usual street corner. He forgot about Daphne and her judgment and her harsh words.

Brian forgot about his work, about his jerk boss. He forgot his friends and their judgments. He ignored Mikey's glare from the bar. He forgot his own misgivings about relationships. He forgot his own rules and judgments.

And they danced, both recognizing their instant compatability. They danced without care or regard for others. They danced for what seemed like hours, each content in the others company.

Finally, when reality could be placed on hold no longer, Justin smiled, leaned in closer, and said, "We could dance all night or we could go somewhere less...loud." He laughed, trying to bring an amount of humor to his next words. "I promise I won't charge you or anything."

Brian hesitated. Now that he had to deal with life, his misgivings and rules came back to him with full force. And Brian Kinney made a habit of not breaking his rules. But then he looked at Justin's face and took in his earnest expression. And just like that, he was able to suspend reality and forget that he had rules. "Don't worry," Brian said, pulling Justin in close to him, "I'll make sure it's worth your time."

A.N. Sorry that I haven't updated in forever. Thanks for reading and please review.


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