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10 - Cheap Imitation
Brian and Justin’s POV
Rated NC 17
******************
Justin
How can I go from happy to suicidal in under ten seconds? I’m standing on the
curb in front of the student gallery at PIFA, absolutely dumbfounded. One of
my feet slides from the curb onto the street and drags along the place where
Brian’s tires just left track marks. I bet they're similar to the ones he’s
left on my heart, black and ridged and hot to the touch.
Ethan’s hand finds my shoulder, gently and hesitantly. I don’t shrug it off,
but I find myself trying to avoid his touch. Then I turn, realizing what I’ve
done, “Sorry.”
He shakes his head at me and the pity in his eyes goes right to my gut, making
me nauseous. I hate that he feels sorry for me: like my mom does, like Debbie
does, like all the guys do, like Mel and Lindsey do. It makes me so fucking
mad, they all think Brian’s broken me, made me less of a person, taken my innocence,
damaged my soul. No one gets it. No one. Least of all Brian, which is the saddest
part of all.
Brian’s made me better, stronger and more of a man than my father ever did.
He’s taught me patience and understanding and compassion. He’s shown me that
love isn't always easily revealed, that it isn't always shown in a conventional
manner and that when it's offered you have to treasure it and hold it sacred.
He taught me how to be a good lover (who am I kidding, an amazing lover.) He’s
shown me how to be a good father. He’s made me laugh so hard I cried, and cry
so hard I laughed. Yeah, Brian hurt me…really badly, but I hurt him too…probably
worse. And after all of it, after I lied and betrayed him and maybe even broke
his heart, he forgave me. He let me in, let me be his friend again, let me share
in his life again. He came to the diner and sat with me day after day, week
after week, as we tried to rebuild the relationship we’d so easily torn apart.
I have to believe that after all this time, we'd been building towards something.
I felt it; every day he came in we got a little closer. We flirted a little
more, talked a little more, danced around the issue a little more. We were going
somewhere, I was sure of it. And now, now I’m not sure of anything. I have no
idea what he’s thinking or even where he is.
The tears are coming, but I do a good job of choking them back. I know how much
it would hurt Ethan to see me cry over Brian, and I’ve caused enough pain for
one day.
“What are you going to do?” Ethan’s voice is almost a whisper.
I just shrug, and keep shrugging, no clue what my answer should be.
“Okay, well what do you want to do?” His voice is steadier now, and I can hear
a small dash of annoyance in his question.
“I’ll work it out, you can go. I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“Don’t apologize to me Justin, in some convoluted way I actually understand
why you love Brian. I’ve been there myself and I’ve also seen you together.
I don’t think it’s healthy, and I don't advise going after him, but I know you
probably will.”
I nod slowly and give Ethan a tiny smile, just enough so he can walk away. But
he doesn’t, not yet.
“We could still go get that cup of coffee,” he says meekly. Now that fucking
makes me sad. He knows I can’t, knows I won’t, but he asks anyway.
I shake my head a little, “I think I should be alone, but thanks.” I lift my
head to meet his eyes and I see disappointment there. I have to pause and think
that he likely didn’t want to hear about Brian or be my friend, he just wanted
to be close to me again, I know exactly what that feels like. Maybe I’m a self-centered
prick for thinking that, but something in his eyes tells me I’m right.
“He’ll never stop hurting you,” is the sentiment I’m left with as Ethan walks
away. It’s one that will come back to haunt me, I’m sure of that. But, somehow
I have to believe it isn’t true. Somehow I have to believe, after everything,
that Brian’s capable of love. Capable of giving it out and taking it in and
living in it and for it and because of it. I have to believe that we were meant
to be, otherwise what has all this pain been for?
I sit on the curb with my head on my knees and think for a long while about
what I really want to do about Brian. I could go after him: chase him, explain
that things aren’t at all what they appear to be. Or I could just let it go:
I could go home to my mom, to my warm bed and cry myself to sleep. See what
happens in the morning, see if he comes back to me.
I don’t want to have to chase him; it seems silly after all we’ve been through.
But, the fact that after everything, he showed up, he came here, he made it
in time to see the show, says something. Doesn’t it? I told him ‘no’ last night.
I told Brian Kinney no, and he still came to my show. And he was jealous, JEALOUS
of Ethan. After everything that’s happened with us he reacted like that. He
must have been coming here hoping that something would happen. Hoping that he
and I…that we…fuck, I don’t know. And really, if I think about it, he’s been
the one chasing me all this time. He’s been coming to me everyday, he’s been
rebuilding this bridge all by himself, and I’ve just been standing aside directing
the project. Maybe it’s time I picked up a fucking hammer.
Brian
That little…fucking…FUCK…this sucks. I hate feeling this way. I hate that he
makes me feel this way. Like some fucking little insane jealous housewife. I
mean, what are we? We’re nothing! We’re not dating, we’re not boyfriends, we
are not even fucking lovers for Christ sake!
My Jeep is on autopilot and I find it parked behind Babylon before I even realize
where I'm headed. I sigh and grab my coat from the passenger seat, shrugging
it on as I get out and lock the doors.
Inside I find the standard fare: the same two hundred guys that are here every
fucking Friday night, the same bartenders, the same music and the same bullshit.
It’s usually fine, a good way to waste an evening, but tonight I’m really not
into it.
I hold up one end of the main bar as I throw back two bottles of beer and a
couple of shots. I settle my tab and walk away with a fresh beer in hand. I’ve
decided to check out what the dance floor has to offer. If the selections leave
little to be desired, I’ll hit the back room. Any asshole can suck my dick,
but maybe I want to take someone home tonight. Maybe I need a little company.
I’m wandering aimlessly, completely unimpressed with the same eight decent looking
guys who are always here, each of whom I’ve already fucked, when I see him,
the hottest little blond ever to grace the dance floor of Babylon - well the
second hottest. And he’s young…so fucking young. Must have just gotten a fake
ID. He’s flying high and loving it, though his insecurities about what’s happening
to him run right under the surface. In no time, I’m in his face and he’s smiling
so wide I think his head might split. Great smile…not as great as….well, whatever,
it’s a good smile.
I snake an arm around his waist and pull him to me. I breathe in his space,
marking him for the night. I can literally feel the five guys who were trying
to move in on him before I arrived back off. At least in here I’m still a god;
at least in here I get some fucking respect.
Justin
I’m not chasing him, but I do need to talk to him. I have to find out what the
fuck he thinks is going on here. And I have to tell him that I love him. He
doesn’t know, I haven’t told him since…well, in a long time. I need him to know
I didn’t stop. I need him to know that I’m still totally and completely in love
with him, but there's no way in hell I’m starting this again if he’s going to
act like a twat. He has to try harder, be better at this. Give us a fucking
chance to survive, otherwise there’s no way I’m going through this bullshit
again. I was just barely left standing the first time, and I don’t trust myself
to survive another round.
I pick myself up from the curb and start to walk. I grab a bus that will take
me close to the loft. Sitting in the back, I have to fight being tossed around
like a rag doll as the shitty shocks on this decade-old bus do little to soften
the blow from each bump on the worn streets of downtown Pittsburgh. We finally
come to a screeching halt at my stop and I exit as quickly as possible. Some
tattered man in the front grabs the edge of my shirt as I walk by and I shake
him off with little thought. My mind is too crowded to process him right now.
I stand outside of Brian’s building for about ten minutes before I'm able to
catch the door and sneak in as one of his neighbors is leaving. I thought about
calling up, but I was scared he’d turn me away. I stand a better chance of actually
getting into his loft if go up and knock on his door than I would if I wait
to be buzzed in.
After knocking until my knuckles are numb, I press my ear to the cold metal
door and listen. I hear nothing. No talking, no movement, no nothing. Fucker
isn’t even home. Why on earth did I think he would be? That was so fucking stupid
of me. Well, I’ll wait. How late could he be out? He has to come back here eventually.
Brian
Even when I close my eyes after taking a long, deep inhale with a bump of cocaine
to my nose, I can still see the lights in the club flash orange and pink and
red behind my eyelids. I throw my head back and wait for the drip: that acidic,
disgusting blob that rolls down the back of my throat, flavored by the poisonous
white powder I’ve let go straight to my head. I rub the residue off my hand
onto my gums until my teeth are numb. I let my lips play over them in a familiar,
calming way. I find a couch, two bottles of beer and the blond boy in my lap.
His tongue snakes its way between my lips. I turned my head, bit his neck, sucked
his nipple through his shirt, avoiding what he really wanted. And then…I don’t
know…I just saw this flash in my brain, Justin and The Fiddler standing there
together, laughing, touching…being fucking happy. I grabbed the kid’s head and
shoved my tongue so far into his mouth that he nearly choked. And now I can’t
stop kissing him. I forgot how amazingly erotic it was to share saliva with
someone, to feel how warm another person’s mouth is. What a guilty pleasure
it is to run your tongue over someone’s teeth, to bite lightly on their lips.
I’ve missed this so much, I’ve missed it with Justin…but this kid is a damn
good imitation.
I keep my eyes closed tight, it’s easier to imagine that my tongue is somewhere
familiar, somewhere it loves to be when my eyes aren’t soaking in the foreign
form of this stranger. With my eyes closed, this kid's young skin, short hair,
baggy jeans and round ass become Justin's. I listen to him gasp and I feel him
grind his hips against me. I sense that he’s a virgin. Suddenly, I’m turned
on by this all too familiar territory. I could take him home. I could show him
what sex can be. I can make him a man; I’ve done it before.
Maybe this beautiful blond will fall for me. Maybe he’ll spend the night and
wake up with me tomorrow. Maybe I’ll drive him to school. Maybe he’ll start
my next fan club. Maybe he’ll be smart and funny and witty and talented. Maybe
I’ll fall for him too; I’ve done it before.
Justin
Okay, it is fucking cold out here and I'm bored as hell. I’ve sung like all
six songs I know the words to. I found a little piece of lead on the top step
and used it to draw the faint image of a breaking heart on the cement landing
where I’m sitting cross-legged. Then I paced back and forth for a while to get
warm. I rode the elevator up and down four times, hoping to run into someone
I know in the building, but I don't. Brian would be so annoyed with me right
now if he could see what I was doing. He always said I had ADD. I think that’s
a child’s disorder, but of course, Brian often treated me like I was a 12-year-old.
Not to say I didn’t often deserve it.
I’m actually getting really tired. It has to be after 11pm and I’ve been running
around all day. I need some sleep, but I’m not leaving until I talk to this
asshole. Yeah, the asshole I love. The asshole I want it to work with. The asshole
I have waking dreams about spending the rest of my life with. That one. That
asshole.
Brian
“It feels so good,” the blond in my lap proclaims with a breathy, throaty voice
as I massage his dick through his jeans and swirl my tongue around his left
nipple, leaving a wet spot on his thin blue cotton t-shirt.
I
laugh a little, the drugs and alcohol making me a bit silly. I bite down hard
on his nipple to snap him back into reality. I take my hand from his dick and
move it to his neck, bringing his face back down to mine for a little more
making out. He probably wonders why the fuck I like kissing so much. Justin
isn’t here, but I’m making a point, damnit.
He moans into my mouth as my tongue assaults him for the umpteenth time
tonight. I rub his back lightly, in big lazy circles, like I’m trying to soothe
him. Really I’m just trying to soothe myself. Even though I’m having a good
fucking time teaching this kid how to kiss, I have to admit I feel a little
guilty. But, fuck, I should NOT feel guilty! Justin and I are nothing. I guess
we aren’t even friends. Little fucker couldn’t even tell me he was back with
Ethan. That must be why he didn’t come over last night. God, he was probably on
his way to Ethan’s and couldn’t be bothered to take a detour. Well that’s
wonderful, I hope they’re happy together in the end. Maybe they were meant to
be, maybe everything I did to push Justin out of my life was right, maybe and
all these months of working to get him back into my life have been a mistake.
Maybe...whatever …the kid in my lap is hot, and he’s close enough to the real
thing.
As he grinds in my lap to the beat of the music, my dick stiffens under him and
I see his eyes light up with that familiar sense of power. He just made me
hard; he’s relishing the moment. I lift my hips to let him feel how hard I am,
let him have his moment. I smile a little and he kisses me some more. He’s so
satisfied with himself. The kid hasn’t even seen anything yet. I close my eyes
and let my imagination wander as he tries to figure out what to do with his
hands. I try to remember what being young and innocent felt like. I try to
remember the moment I lost my virginity. I try to remember what falling in love
did to me. My mind is a complete blank.
I shove the kid from my lap and stand up a bit too hastily. The resulting head
rush makes me shaky, but I regain my balance quickly enough. Confused and
bewildered, the blond boy wonder blinks up at me with wide, beautiful blue
eyes. Fuck me. I hadn’t really looked into them until now; I hadn’t looked into
him at all until now. He’s so innocent and trusting. He’ll come home with me;
let me do what I want with him, go when I tell him to. I know it’s wrong on so
many levels, starting with the fact that he’s just a fucking kid and a virgin
and ending with the fact that he's the spitting image of my…my…well, a spitting
image of Justin. Though admittedly, not quite as attractive.
“Coming home with me?” I say it as nonchalantly as possible. He’ll be easily
fooled by my cool façade just like Justin was years ago. Years ago…God, it
seems like yesterday.
He nods hesitantly at first, and then adds an enthusiastic “Yes!” as I begin to
walk away. He follows at my heels quickly, a puppy that's found a home.
Mentally, I shake my head when I think of how trusting this kid is being, how
stupid. Just like someone else I know.
As we exit the club and hit the alley I say to him, “Got a car?”
“N-n-o,” he stutters. He’s so nervous, it’s kind of cute. Fuck, where did I
park the Jeep? I’m tweaked.
“Come on then.” I nod my head in the general vicinity of where I think I left
my car and start to walk. When I find the damn thing, I put the key in the
passenger side door and unlock it while he stands incredibly close beside me. “Thanks,”
he says genuinely when I open the door and let him in. I’m amused that the only
thought running through my head is ‘at least no one I know is having one of my
children tonight, then this really would be fucking déjà vu.’
We pull up to my building and screech into a parking spot. When we both hop out
and walk quickly to the door, I find that I’m already regretting doing this. As
soon as I close the elevator doors and hit the button for my floor, I slam him
against the back wall and give him a long, heated kiss that gets both of our
dicks back on track. I grind into him until he’s moaning into my mouth. I suck
the air out of his lungs until he’s gasping for more. I slide my cold hands
under his layers of clothes until I find his warm, leaking dick for the first
time. He practically comes when I grab it, screaming and struggling away from
me. “Shit, shit, shit” is all I hear pouring from his lips.
“Relax,” I whisper calmly as I start to kiss and stroke him. “I can make you
come all night. Just let it go.” And he does. Into my hand, onto his jeans.
Confined down there in that small space where his dick and my hand have been
struggling for real estate. He slumps against me as the final quakes of his
orgasm surge through his body. The elevator’s been stopped on my floor for
ages, but I haven’t yet opened the grate to let us out. I wipe his come on his
jeans. He smiles at me so sweetly, I have to laugh a little.
“Come on,” I say casually to him, with a slight smile as I take in his look of
utter satisfaction. I fling the gates apart and step out onto my floor with him
on my heels, like I’ve done a million times before with a million different
strangers. But, unlike every other time, I’m stopped dead in my tracks by the
sight of Justin, neatly curled into a little ball at the base of my doorway,
sound asleep. What the fuck?
Justin
I hear the slide of the elevator doors as I’m trying to pry my eyes open. I
must have fallen asleep waiting for Brian. I wonder what time it is. In a daze
I try to sit up, but my body isn’t quite awake yet. I see Brian standing right
in front of me and I reach for him as a gesture for him to help me up, but he
doesn't. I drop my arm and rub my eyes so I can focus on him and that’s when I
see it. This bewildered little blond kid who’s looking at Brian like he’s the
fucking messiah. Gee, wonder where I’ve seen that look before? Fuck this. I am
not going to fucking live my fucking life like this.
Suddenly alert, I stand abruptly, looking first at Brian and then at the kid. I
shake my head and dart straight for the stairs. I was kidding myself that I
thought this would ever work, that I thought we’d ever work. People don’t
change; I guess they shouldn’t have to. But God how I wanted him to.
He catches my arm as I fly past him, “Where the fuck do you think you’re
going?” His voice is filled with anger.
“Away from you. You aren’t the only one who can run away, Brian.” I shake him
off and then start to take two stairs at a time on my way down. Part of me
hopes and prays that I’ll hear Brian on the steps behind me, but the only
footsteps making the descent are mine.
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