Title: Briefly Yours
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: Queer as Folk
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 (mythras_fire)
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…)
New First Time
“Love”: a Lie
Yes I Do
“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?”
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.