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After the End	By : Bloodyrose82 Category: M through R > Queer As Folk Views: 2115 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Queer As Folk, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-After the End
- 2-515
- 3-516
- 4-517
- 5-518
- 6-519
- 7-520
- 8-521
- 9-522
- 10-523
- 11-524
- 12-525
- 13-526
- 1
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- 3
Prologue.

Some people call it making love, as if the correct ingredients have to be found, and a precise recipe has to be followed; a caress here, a kiss there, a careful shifting of skin against skin and a pace that is neither too slow or too fast less the simmer reaches boiling point and you find yourself on the cusp of fucking.

But it�s rarely that controlled, and besides, isn�t that just something other people imagine after reading one too many romance novels with a swooning damsel on the cover? It all seems so woefully heterosexual.

Mostly it just happens, without candlelight or chilled champagne, and you find yourself subconsciously reaching up to smooth the hair off his brow, your lips grazing over his cheek, and you realize that setting or, God forbid, ambience, has very little to do with it; that somehow during the night you stopped looking at him with that predatory gleam in your eye as he writhed amongst the sweaty bodies on the dance floor, and all you wanted to do was touch him, and keep on touching him, until you are the only two people in the room.

Then suddenly it happens, and you ache so much you feel like you might explode from the intensity of it.

-*-

I. Brian

He pulled away from you far too quickly, offering you a look that you couldn�t decide was pity or understanding. He moved across to the other side of the room to greet Debb, and hand her something that looked suspiciously like a wrapped bottle of wine.

You forced yourself to turn your back, and half listened to the chatter going on around you, ignoring the glances of worry that were tossed in your direction as you stopped a passing waiter and grabbed a glass from his tray.

You glanced at your watch - 8:27 - and made yourself stop looking at the exit. Five hours to go and nowhere to hide. You plastered a smile on your face and tried to remember the name of the gallery in Canada where Linds worked, as you asked her about her job, politely nodding every couple of seconds in a hope she would think you were listening. But then you squared your shoulders and picked your eyes up off the floor. You could get through this, even if every part of you was focused on the little blonde twat behind you, his laugh obscurely loud in the echo of the room.

-*-

II. Justin

You broke the hug and moved away from him, because if you didn�t then you never would, and you didn�t think it was polite to spend the duration of the party with your face buried in his neck, not to mention incredibly bad for your �I�m moving to New York and staying there come hell or high water� plan.

So you let him go and played the perfect guest, heading straight for Debb and offering her your gift: the most expensive bottle of wine your money could buy. Brian would be surprised at the culture you had managed to soak up whilst schmoozing around art shows in the heart of Soho. But then, Brian didn�t know everything about you anymore, did he?

Everyone was smiles and kisses, but you couldn't help but feel that underneath their fa�ade lay something a little bitter; some sort of accusation that you had been the one to go away, leaving them to look out for Brian as he sat around and waited for you to come back.

But you weren�t planning on ever coming back, were you?

-*-

III. Brian

The seating plan had you positioned between Michael and Ted. Obviously it wouldn�t have been comfortable for anyone, least of all you, if they had stuck Justin by your side. It didn�t seem whomever had made up the plan had extended their logic further than that, as you found yourself looking up as Debb made a longwinded thank you speech, and looking straight at Justin across the table, two seats to your right.

You couldn�t help but stare as he beamed around the room, answering questions between mouthfuls of filet mignon, about how great New York was, about how many paintings he had sold, about how much he loved the scene there. He glanced in your direction when he said that, and you averted your eyes to your plate in a hurry. Sex had been assigned a new name.

As dessert was served, you found yourself ignoring the rapidly melting ice-cream in favor of watching the way he inclined his head, his hair shining in the dim light, the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed. He looked like he had no idea you were eyeing him so intently, and you supposed that nobody else would really have a clue. But you knew differently because you knew him completely. You had spent many hours studying the way his posture was slightly stiffened when he was nervous, and the way his voice lilted at the end of each sentence, perfectly aware that he was playing to your audience.

During coffee you slipped out of the room and vanished into the grounds of the hotel for a cigarette. The air was just too stifling indoors.

It was just too hard to breathe.

-*-

IV. Justin

You noticed him slipping out the door and waited for a lull in the conversation to follow him. He stood, highlighted in the doorway, his back to you, and you took a moment to compose yourself before making your presence known.

"Brian."

He turned slightly, his profile highlighted for a second in the glow from his cigarette, and then nodded his head.

"Justin."

You stood by his side, your hands in your pockets, and together you looked out into the night. It was an awkward silence, something you weren�t used to sharing with him, but you found you realized it was inevitable.

Just as you were about to turn and go back inside, he spoke, and it took you a moment to register his voice.

"I�m glad you�re doing well."

In New York. You knew that�s what he meant, even if he couldn�t bring himself to say the words.

"Thank you. It�s exceeded all of my expectations so far."

That wasn�t a lie. New York was bigger, brighter, bolder, and far more exciting than you ever could have imagined.

You never thought you would have spent as much time thinking about him as you did.

"So I�ve heard."

That�s when you wondered exactly what he had heard. You couldn�t imagine them sitting around a table in the diner gossiping about the people they knew you had slept with. Then again, you couldn�t imagine them remaining silent on the subject either.

You tried to think of something to respond with. Something witty and hopefully artistically intelligent. But then the seconds passed and the moment vanished.

Brian threw his cigarette onto the floor and ground it out under one shoe.

"You�re looking good," he said, with a lopsided smile, and touched your arm before rejoining the party.

Every time he turns away you still feel it burning.

-*-

V. Brian

You knew it was going to happen at some point. It was impossible to avoid. But standing there, feeling him behind you, just like it was the old days, when you knew without looking that he had entered your space, you wished you could have avoided the whole situation and claimed that you had something better to do with your time instead of attending the party.

Like losing your head as you fucked yourself into another dimension.

You refused to speak first. Why make it easy for him when he never once made it easy for you? You supposed that wasn�t exactly fair, but that had never been your game. However much you liked to think you let logic rule your life, your carefully cloaked emotions usually took the lead.

After the first polite exchange, he lapsed into a silence so thick that you almost choked on it. You broke your own rule and threw him a line. It bounced straight back and hit you in the face. So much for false manners.

You finished your cigarette, and with it your excuses for staying a moment longer, and made your way back inside to join everyone else.

The lights were unbearably bright and all you suddenly wished for was your bed.

-*-

VI. Justin.

He left you standing there and it took you a full five minutes to gather yourself up before you headed back inside. Your eyes immediately found him standing in the corner, Michael by his side talking intently. You knew he wasn�t listening.

You ignored the glances that were cast in your direction, asking why you had followed him outside. You wanted to scream at all of them and tell them you never wanted to rub salt in an old wound. His or yours.

You busied yourself with mingling through the room, repeating the same pre-prepared monologue about how lovely New York was in the fall and how great the lighting was for landscape work.

You�d barely seen anything other than the four walls of the apartment you shared with Daphne�s musician friend, losing yourself in the scales he played on his piano, transporting you back to a time when you fucked up and threw everything away for a violinist who had lied to you more than Brian ever would.

When you had ventured outside it was to show Daphne or your mother around the neighbourhood, hoping that they wouldn�t notice that you had never been to half the places you took them to. Or to the numerous gallery openings, art shows, clinical little performances you had to endure if you wanted your face to be recognized by the people who mattered.

And the clubs. The thrumming, pounding, whirling kaleidoscope of colours and sounds that allowed you to pretend, just for a couple of hours, that you were dancing in Babylon and that at any minute he would walk in and drag you over to the bar for a quick drink before a visit to the backroom.

"Sunshine?"

You blinked and focused on the face in front of you. Debb with her sequined top and curly red wig, staring into your face as if she could read your soul like the short-hand orders she took down every day at the diner.

"Sorry, Debb, I was miles away."

She gave you one of her looks, as if she was telling you that you may be able to fool yourself but you had never been able to fool her for one second. You wore your heart on your sleeve, isn�t that what she used to say?

"Don�t fucking give me that," she scolded, her lips pursed. The only thing missing was the snap of bubblegum.

You tried to look appropriately surprised, but you could feel a lecture brewing.

"You weren�t miles away, Sunshine," she continued. "You were in this very room. Just not standing here in front of me."

You didn�t need to look behind you to see where her gaze fell.

"Don�t even think about it. He�s fine. We�re all fine. Thinking about coming up there in the spring to take in the sights, pop in on one of your famous shows. Couldn�t do that if you were back in Pittsburgh, could we?"

She gave you another look and you nodded in reply.

She always had a way of getting you back on track.

-*-

VII. Brian

You couldn�t help but watch as he played with Gus, pulling a small notebook and a pencil out of god knows where, and sitting down on the floor in his expensive suit, flipping the pages until he found one he hadn�t been doodling on.

Gus was enraptured, as he always was when Justin showered him with attention. His eyes were wide as they followed the lines of his pencil, smiling with pleasure as he began to recognize the cartoon Justin was drawing from one of the Saturday morning shows Gus had insisted on watching, no matter how late you had been up the night before.

You didn�t think it fair of him to make himself familiar again, only to walk straight back out of his life and onto the plane. You could see it in the way Gus held himself still, his focus completely on Justin, tuning out his mothers� offers of a slice of birthday cake.

It wasn�t right to get attached again.

-*-

VIII. Justin

As you sat, sharing your time between Gus on the floor, praising his crude copy of your cartoon sketch, and chipping in on the conversation Linds was having with Ted about the differences of living somewhere else that wasn�t Pittsburgh, you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked up.

It was almost frightening, the anger behind his gaze, and you drew in a quick breath before looking away. You had expected him to be angry before, and would have welcomed it. Anything other than the silent passivity, as if he had just given up.

You missed his fight, his spark. You had armed yourself with logical reasons as to why you left and why you stayed away and why you wouldn�t speak about any of that now because it was in the past. But they all fell away under the heat from his eyes.

What use was logic in this situation, anyway?

You took the notebook back from Gus and tore out the page he had drawn on and the picture he was copying. Linds swiped it from your hand before Gus�s fist had a chance to close around it, and forced you to sign the bottom corner.

Could be worth a fortune in ten years time.

You couldn�t imagine what your life would be like in ten years. Would you feel you were sailing without an anchor like you were now? Would you have your own apartment on upper West, fully equipped with the latest gadgetry like Brian�s loft? Or would you be somewhere else entirely; perhaps Rome or Paris. Somewhere bohemian and fit for an artist-type.

Suddenly you wished you had been able to fulfill your father�s demand to attend business school.

-*-

IX. Brian

The party finally broke, and it felt like days. Your mind was heavy with drink, your shoulders stiff from leaning against the wall for all those hours.

On to Babylon, everyone said. Just like the old times.

Mikey insisted on accompanying you back to the loft and wait while you changed. If this was supposed to be like the old times then why wasn�t he trying to get a look at you as you slipped from your $800 suit and into the more appropriate clubbing apparel?

"What do you think about this shirt?" you asked him, looking in the mirror as you buttoned it up.

"Who gives a shit about the shirt, what about Justin?" he shot back, and you caught a glimpse of his scowling reflection.

"What about him?" you replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed to put on your shoes. "I�m sure he will approve of the shirt."

Mikey narrowed his eyes and you hid a smile. He always took everything far too seriously.

"That isn�t what I meant. You�re walking around like someone just killed your puppy."

"I�ve never owned a puppy," you pointed out.

He sighed in exasperation and started pacing the floor. "How can you act so calm about the whole thing? If I were you and he were Ben--"

"We�d be living in a disgustingly average house in a disgustingly average street, spending all of our time talking about the best way to weed the daisies and how many minutes the garbage collectors were late this week."

He pulled up short and glared at you, his arms folded across his chest. "Can�t you be fucking serious for once?"

"I am being serious." You gave him a smirk.

"Doesn�t it bother you that he�s here?" he asked to your retreating back as you stood up and walked through into the kitchen, grabbing your cigarettes from the counter-top.

"Why should it bother me?" you asked innocently, and started for the door.

"Because�"

He trailed off as he followed you out to the elevator.

You knew he could never bring himself to say it.

-*-

X. Justin

You were staying with your mother, despite your insistence that you could get a hotel. Apparently it was stupid to waste the money when your old room was sitting there untouched.

It was unhinging, walking back into the space your life had once revolved around. Your old sketches were still pinned to the wall, and your closet door stood open, a few items you had left behind gathering dust on their hangers.

You walked quietly around, studying everything. It seemed like somebody else�s life. You fingered a couple of the shirts, trying not to remember how you wore this one the first time you saw Brian, when you were still a na�ve little boy who had no clue what it meant to fall into someone so deeply you never thought you could find your way out.

You remember standing there against the lamppost, thinking that perhaps it was a mistake to come down to Liberty Avenue on your own, when you looked up and saw him, approaching his jeep with Mikey and the others. You�d seen plenty of attractive men mingling about, giving you the eye, but none of them could hold a candle to Brian Kinney. He was like a walking wet-dream and it took all of your time to will down the sudden stiffness in your pants.

You couldn�t believe someone like him would show interest in someone like you. Little did you realize that back then you were just another trick. Another marking on a headboard that was more notches than post.

But you just couldn�t let him go.

-*-

XI. Brian

The club was packed when you entered with Mikey, tuning out his continual ramble about how you should take it easy that night, not get too drunk, play it cool and not let Justin know you were affected by his being there.

But you were never all that fond of lying.

The music pounded through your body like a migraine, and a couple of shots inside of you found you itching to take to the floor. You weaved through the bouncing crowd as they moved like a single entity, and found yourself a prominent spot.

You tiled your head back, your lips slightly parted, and closed your eyes, absorbing the heat from the people around you. It felt so good to be back, shaking off the last five hours as you moved fluidly under the lights, painting your face red, green, and then gold.

You felt someone watching you, their eyes roaming down your body and then back up, and you responded with the usual shiver of a thrill. You weren�t all that interested in being cruised tonight, but your body still reacted in the same way.

You opened your eyes, casting a quick glance over the man in front of you, and that�s when he caught your eye. He was dancing a few feet away in his own little pocket of the club, all at once oblivious and hyper-aware of the people around him. He was shirtless, his chest gleaming under the toxic heat of the lights, and you watched his muscles as they moved lightly under his skin.

But you weren�t the only one watching, and you found yourself staring as a faceless somebody slipped up behind him and ran their hands down his side, resting them possessively against his waist. He looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly, leaning his head back against their chest, and pushed himself back into them.

He knew all of the right moves, and you supposed you had taught him well. But there was something more to it than the precise rules of seduction, and you knew it was something you could never have. There was a light about him, a bright white innocence that stayed with him no matter how much he had been through, how many people he had sucked and fucked, how many bombs had been thrown his way or the bashing he had endured.

It was like he was untouchable. Like life could never bring him down. You remember after he came out of a coma, how cautious he was for a while, but also how determined. Nothing, not even brain damage, could knock him down for long.

You almost smiled when you thought about how worried everyone had been about his move to New York, how they tried to call him regularly and check he was sleeping properly and eating right. Whether he had enough money and was making his own friends. Watching him now, from a distance, barely aware of the stranger�s hands moving across your chest as he danced against you, you knew that if anyone could survive, Justin could.

You tried to tell yourself that�s why you had rarely called.

-*-

XII. Justin

It was nice to be picked up so easily, you decided. It seemed so much quicker than when it had happened at the clubs in New York, but it was probably just your imagination. No matter where you went, which club you managed to wangle your way into, the bodies were the same and the desires were always along the lines of a quick fuck or a blowjob in a back alley.

But there was something relaxing about it being back at Babylon, and you were almost surprised at how quickly you fell into it. You barely looked at the guy who was busy wrapping himself around you, his hands everywhere at once; grabbing your ass and trailing down the top of your thighs, maneuvering you to push against his hardening cock every time you thrust your hips backwards.

It didn�t matter who it was. It was something you needed to erase the awkwardness of the party, the longing you had felt when your plane had hit the ground and you smelled the air of Pittsburgh.

You had never realized that even trees felt different when they were growing at your home.

As the man took your hand and gestured towards the back room, you followed without hesitation. Your body ached for something to take away the awful memories that flooded your senses as you stepped back into the club: flashes of music and the glitter of someone�s shirt; bloodied bodies and a loud bang as you were thrown backwards; Brian�s voice cracking as he strode through the wreckage and gathered you in his arms.

I love you.

-*-

XII. Brian

You watched him being lead away from the dance floor, and you knew where he was going. Moments later when your own trick bent down and whispered in your ear that he had to have you there, then, now, you followed his blonde head through the throngs of people waiting for their own lay, and disappeared into the back room.

The grey-blue lights flickered before stilling, and you worked your way down the passage, nodding occasionally to a familiar shadow or a bobbing head. The man�s hand was sweaty in yours, and you wondered how often he had done this before.

You stopped underneath some rusted pipes and pushed him up against the wall, pressing his face against the rough stone, as your hands worked quickly on his belt.

Then your eyes were drawn sideways and there he was, his fingers running over the heated flesh of the man�s back, his hands pushing up his shirt and diving underneath to smooth up his spine.

Your body tensed and a cold shiver fell over your skin. It was like an itch you couldn�t scratch.

You managed to undo the belt and snapped the buttons on his jeans, pushing the denim down to his knees. You bent him over slightly, watching as Justin did the same to his, and pulled a condom out of your pocket, baring your teeth.

Twin rips.

You forced yourself up into him, grunting slightly with the effort, your eyes fixed on the way a lock of hair fell in Justin�s eyes during the pressure of his own entrance. His fingers splayed over the man�s ribs and found his nipples.

Yours began to ache.

He pulled himself out slowly, agonizingly slowly, and looked up.

Your eyes met.

You adjusted your angle and began to fuck him slowly, the slip-sliding of your balls against his ass like a metronome guiding you through the motions.

Your rhythm was slow, steady, and you took your time. Gone were the desires to fuck him so hard he bled. Your hand caressed his stomach and found his cock. Suddenly you wanted to help his release.

Justin fucked his guy just as slowly, blinking lazily in the half-light as he watched your fingers stroking and pulling, one of his hands subconsciously moving to do the same.

The symphony was almost painful and for a moment all you could see was a pair of clear blue eyes, a body under you on a mattress; a long, drawn out goodbye, and tears on a pale face that were echoed on your own.

Justin thrust into him again and again, his hips snapping in a leisurely cadence. You licked your lips, moaning as his hands finally found their goal, and you felt your cock twitch in response.

He was everywhere. The smell of him, the sight of him, the feel of him against your flesh., the way his bottom lip was drawn tightly between his teeth.

You came hard, your eyes wide open, affixed on his.

The man underneath you pulled away with a look of disgust, his voice loud amongst the myriad of groans in the backroom.

"I was told you like it rough."

-*-

Epilogue.

Some say that time is a great healer and that anything bad will pass. They tell you that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, but Justin thinks that they had never been in love in the first place.

It was never easy, loving Brian Kinney, and he didn�t suppose it ever would be. But he wasn�t about to stop. Some things, he knew, were worth the pain and the trouble, and he knew that even if nobody believed him, there would never be anybody else who could come close.

He wasn�t sure if he even wanted them to.
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After the End