testdog65 (testdog65) wrote in qaf_challenges, @ 2006-09-01 22:41:00 |
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Original poster: _alicesprings
Title: In Which Brian Kinney Dares the World
Written By: knittedshadow
Timeline: Various Seasons
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Summary: When Justin’s seventeen, he writes a list of Brian’s flaws.
Author Notes: Cowlip owns all. Thanks to my lovely beta for all her help during writing, you shall get proper named glory when the anonymous-cahoots are over.
Part Three:
I dare you to see my imperfections.
When Justin’s seventeen, he writes a list of Brian’s flaws, sitting cross-legged on his bed. When Justin’s seventeen he makes a last ditch attempt to remind himself this man isn’t everything.
Number 1, Brian Kinney does not do dates. Number 2, Brian Kinney does not do love. Number 3, Brian Kinney fucks his way around the Babylon backroom at every opportunity. Number 4, Brian Kinney has an unhealthy reliance on drugs, drink, and bad club remixes. Number 5, Brian Kinney is in the possession of three hideous flowered shirts that Justin is pretty sure his grandfather also owns, or possibly his grandmother. Number 6, Brian Kinney will never commit.
When Justin’s eighteen, less naïve, he sits in a tiny apartment, jostled and uncomfortable between sheet music and violin cases. When Justin’s eighteen, he pulls out the list again and adds to it, words spiked and angry.
Number 7, Brian Kinney will never love anyone as much as he loves himself. Number 8, Brian Kinney is incapable of the usual range of human emotion. Number 9, Brian Kinney does not, and never will, give a shit about Justin Taylor.
And when he’s finished, Justin doesn’t look at the list again for a long time. When Justin’s eighteen, he convinces himself that he’s forgotten all about Brian Kinney and his fucking imperfections.
When Justin’s nineteen and things have changed, he gets the list out once more and tries to soften its words. When Justin’s nineteen, he takes every bad thing on the list and writes a reason next to it.
Brian Kinney does not do dates because he has a hundred and one better things to do with his time. Brian Kinney is in the possession of three hideous flowered shirts but at least he looks good in them. Brian Kinney will never commit because his childhood was so fucked up that he doesn’t know how to.
When Justin’s nineteen, he looks at the list and realizes that for the rest of this screwed-up, undefined non-relationship he will probably always be making excuses for Brian.
When Justin’s twenty-one, Brian finds the list. He goes into bathroom to look for condoms and doesn’t come back out again. After five minutes, Justin follows and finds him standing in front of the cabinet, holding the piece of paper that had fluttered out of its hiding place behind a stack of towels.
He doesn’t look up when Justin enters, the expression on his bent head unreadable. Justin is the first to speak. His voice is quiet.
“Brian,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Brian, you weren’t meant to see that, it was written a long time ago.”
Brian’s gaze snaps up, his expression hard. “Oh sorry.” His voice is sharp and mocking. “Not up-to-date enough for you? You want me to add to it? ‘Only has one ball.’ ‘Getting kind of old.’?”
“Brian, don’t—”
But Brian’s voice rises to drown him out. “What, you thought you wouldn’t be able to keep count if you didn’t write it all down? You’re hardly perfect yourself.”
“Look, Brian, I know that and—”
“And don’t fucking make excuses for me, Justin. Don’t kid yourself I do this because of some awful childhood trauma. I do it because I want to. Because I can.”
Brian crumples the list and throws it at Justin, the balled up paper hitting his chest and falling to the floor. And he storms past him without a word, then spins back before he reaches the door, eyes like flint.
When Justin’s twenty-one, Brian spins to face him and hisses, “And don’t you dare think I don’t give a shit.” His eyes are angry. “Don’t you dare write it on some fucking list and think that it’s the truth.”