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
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for the ending of Season 5.
Summary: Their first break up is only an almost break up.
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 Two:
I dare you to leave me.
Their first break up is only an almost break up. It’s only an almost break up because although Justin counts it, Brian doesn’t. He says they were never together in the first place.
Their first break up takes place inside Brian’s loft, and because of Brian’s loft. Just one tiny slip-up, one tiny mistake, an unlocked door, an unset alarm, and it’s all that Brian needs to get rid of him.
Their first break up makes Justin beg and plead and apologize, anything for a second chance but Brian just turns his back on him and shrugs it off, letting Justin’s words roll through him, unnoticed behind the anger.
Their first break up and Justin walks away from the loft, his future suddenly undecided. And Brian storms through his empty building and slams doors too hard, trying to drown out the voice that says, “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m so sorry.”
Their second break up seems a long time coming. It festers bitter between them until both of them know it’s only a matter of counting down the days. And when it finally comes to the act of leaving, they both realize Justin’s left already, back at the start of Rage, or maybe even before that. And Brian let him, lets him and always will.
Their second break up, and for days after Justin whispers, “Play me something” and Ethan will get sleepily to his feet and grab his violin. Their second break up and every night Justin lies awake and concentrates so fucking hard on the symphonies and the concertos and the requiems, but try as he might, nothing blocks out the sound of Brian’s voice and the words, “In ways that I won’t.”
Their third break up comes as a surprise. Justin walks into the loft thinking there’s nothing wrong apart from his cancer-ridden, anti-acceptance, truth-avoiding non-boyfriend. Their third break up and the cancer-ridden, anti-acceptance, truth-avoiding non-boyfriend has had enough.
If Brian took the time to analyze these things he would realize he isn’t angry at Justin for not telling him, he’s angry at Justin for knowing in the first place. And though he won’t think long enough to put his finger on what it is, something about Justin knowing he’s ill wrenches at his gut and brings bile to his throat.
So Brian doesn’t analyze, preferring instead to free fall on anger. And if he yells long enough and shouts loud enough then maybe Justin will turn to him, eyes sparking with fury rather than sympathy, and there will be no pity in his words.
Their third break up and things don’t go as planned. Pushed and shoved back in more ways than one, Justin’s eyes show only grief and somehow that’s worse than pity. And Brian slams the loft door shut behind him, kicking chairs and punching walls until he’s breathless and gasping.
Their third break up and Justin stands still and silent on the other side of the door, the words “I don’t want you here, get the fuck out,” ringing in his ears.
Their fourth break up and both of them try to pretend it isn’t happening. They don’t say ‘leaving’ or ‘distance’. ‘Goodbye’ would roll bitter over their tongues. Their fourth break up is slow, inevitable, but it tears at their hearts all the same. There is no pattern to follow, no set words for this situation, their relationship is hardly conventional.
So this is their fourth break up and their last moments and their goodbye fuck, all rolled into one. The movements, so goddamn familiar, so fucking natural to fall into that easy rhythm. And memories flicker across the moving bodies, their first, their last and every time in between.
When it’s over they lie tangled in each others arms, Brian’s fingers so tight they leave bruises behind. Their fourth break up and when the loft is still Justin slips away, bags already packed by the door. It’s easier this way. And Brian lies awake on the bed, eyes clenched shut, faking sleep because that’s easier too.
And when the door slides quietly shut he sits up, smokes a cigarette and stares at the floor with sightless eyes. As the distance between the two men grows, Pittsburgh to New York, the words “It’s only time” haunt them both.