Title: Always Mine
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Era: 2005- (after QAF)
Genre: Drama, angst
Rating: M / FRM
Summary: Imaginary snippets of what might have happened after the fifth season. Short glimpses of life and love on Liberty Avenue – and the world around it.
In a way connected with “Briefly Yours”.
Warnings: Slash, language, references to violence and underage sex, death, drug abuse, drunkenness, (and a lot else not perhaps mentioned here).
Disclaimer: The characters, original story, and the places belong to the makers, creators, and producers of the series – Russell T. Davies, Ron Cowen, Daniel Lipman, Showtime, and Showcase. No harm intended; no profit made. I’m just borrowing.
Beta: Mythra (mythras_fire)
Feedback: Yes, please; it is much appreciated. The bad and the good.
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 I might not deserve that at times)!
About Always Mine: This is not actually a story, but a collection of short stories and ficlets. Therefore the story has no end, but it may “continue” whenever a new idea strikes me. The parts, not chapters, take place somewhere after the journey presented in the TV-show “Queer as Folk”. The parts are not tied together, either, so it doesn’t matter in which order you read them.
Parts 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…)
For One Night
Author’s Note: Brian’s POV.
I sit in my office, a magazine laid out in front of me on an empty desk. I don’t read stuff like this, but, as Cynthia pointed out, perhaps I should. What a sneaky, effective way that woman has to lure my attention into just the right places. So, many thanks to her, it caught my interest.
He caught my interest.
It’s the same as years ago, the night we first met on Liberty Avenue. Ever since, he has managed never to bore me once, or make me turn away. There’s always something new to be found in him, even if you think you’ve seen it all.
The world is beginning to grow aware of that, too.
I open the magazine, and flip through the pages slowly. I don’t even look at the able of contents to find the page I’m looking for. It will come across my path eventually – like he did, and eventually will again.
When I find the page I’ve been looking for, I know it immediately. It’s not the big title with his name on it that draws my eyes. It’s the picture of him, standing in front of a painting I can tell is his. He’s smiling. He looks proud. Happy. Like he belongs.
And he does.
That’s why I let him go.
He has to live this part of his life. And when he’s done, perhaps he will return here. To Pittsburgh. Home. To me.
It’s kind of ironic that I’m thinking about this to begin with. But I’ve learned to live with the idea since he left. We never said “goodbye”. We never said it was over. Quite the contrary.
I look at the page again, my eyes passing over words full of amazement and admiration. He’s conquering the world, my Sunshine. And when he’s done, he will come back to reclaim what he left behind. Me.
I’m pathetic, perhaps. Pathetic like he used to be, believing all those clichés that we’re dealing with each day of our lives. But at least our lives are not on hold for a better day to come; we live our lives to their fullest, walking towards the one goal that means most to us at the moment.
Last question in the brief interview catches my attention in the middle of my musings.
“What do you think of love?”
Justin: You cannot know love – or know that you’re in love – unless you feel pain. I have known both. I will, each and every day of my life. It’s both the greatest tragedy and the greatest of love stories ever written. And we all make our own stories, be it tragedy or something else.
I’m proud of my Sunshine, I truly am. He outgrew all my expectations. And one day, perhaps I shall tell him that.