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Allie
Disclaimer: All things QAF belong to CowLip. I take
liberties but they own them, I don’t.
Characters: All Queer As Folk characters
Pairing: Brian and Justin
Warning: Entire Thing will be NC-17. Spoilers for
like all Five Seasons.
XXI - Choices
"The doors we open and close
each day decide the lives we live."
~ Flora Whittemore ~
June 26, 2019 8:38am
Justin's
POV
I walk into the
kitchen just as Gus is throwing the comics away in the trash. Looking at me, he
shrugs as he walks over to the table and sits down. I decide not to say
anything about it. Why make an issue of something that seems ridiculous in the
scheme of things? Gus has been acting different since the show on Saturday. He
hasn't had any panic attacks or nightmares that I know of, and the sudden
absence of these things seems odd when it should feel comforting. I want to
believe that remembering what happened has helped him, but I know it won't make
him better overnight. I pour myself a cup of coffee and join him at the table.
He's biting the end of a pen, his brows are furrowed, and his concentration is
focused on the crossword puzzle in front of him. Setting my coffee aside, I
reach for the Arts & Leisure section and spread it out on the table. I try
to concentrate on the article about post-modern digital animation, but I can't
help but feel like something is wrong with Gus. It's not like he's a big talker-he's
like Brian in that respect-but he's been unusually quite the last couple of
days. I glance up from the paper. He looks fucking exhausted.
"Don't
forget I won't be at the studio until this afternoon."
He looks up at
me. "I know."
"Are
you-"
He looks back
down at the paper, his forehead crinkling. "I'll be fine. I don't need you
to hold my fucking hand." He tosses the pen on the table and stands up.
I furrow my brow
as he walks back into the kitchen. "Hey." He stops and turns back to
me. "What was that about?"
The anger that
was on his face only seconds ago dissipates. He shakes his head. "Sorry
Justin. I'm just…" He sighs, leans against the counter, and rests his chin
against his chest. "You have that meeting with your agent today?"
I'm suspicious
about the change of subject, but I answer him anyway. "Yeah, in >SoHo."
His head snaps up and his eyes meet mine. "SoHo?"
Standing, I grab
my cup and walk over to the sink. "Yeah, Amy loves this little French
restaurant there that she claims 'serves the best fucking crepes,
darling'." I laugh as I put my cup in the sink. "I think the fact
that it's expensive appeals to her upper-class nature." I look over at
Gus. He's biting his lip and staring at the floor. I turn to him, crossing my
arms over my chest. "Alright what's up?"
Slowly he looks
over at me. "Nothing." He pushes himself off the counter and turns to
face me. "Is the restaurant near…the SoHo Grand Hotel?"
"The SoHo…" I tilt my head and furrow my brow. "Why?" He
shrugs, but his eyes don't leave mine. "Uh, it's not far from the restaurant,
maybe about three blocks."
"Mind if I
go with you?"
"To the
restaurant?"
He shakes his head. "No, to SoHo. I have something I need to do."
I don't know if
he thinks I'm clueless or just that I can't put two and two together. I know
Grady works at the SoHo Grand. He's looking at me and there's something in his
eyes that I can't quite make out. "Why do you need to go to the SoHo
Grand?"
"Look
Justin, the guy fucking…" He shakes his head. "Never mind, forget
it." He moves to walk by me but I stop him. He looks down at me and
smiles, but it doesn't look or feel genuine.
"I'm sorry
Gus."
His brow furrows.
"What for?"
I laugh.
"For acting like a parent."
He rolls his eyes
and grins at me. "I hate to tell you this Justin, but you are a parent." He moves out of my
hold. "It's no big deal."
I shake my head.
"You can come if you want. I was going to drop by and see your dad
afterward."
He smirks at me.
"Are you kidding? I think I've been exposed to enough of you and Dad for
this week."
I feel my face
flush. Two nights ago Gus walked in on Brian and me in the kitchen. We didn't
even know he was there until we heard the refrigerator open and Gus say,
"Don't you two have a bedroom?" I was completely mortified. Of course
Brian thought it was fucking hilarious. It wasn't like we planned it. I was
hungry and then there was ice cream and Brian and one thing just happened to
lead to another. Gus may have been with us three weeks, but sometimes we forgot
we no longer lived alone.
Gus shakes his head.
"You should see your face right now."
I furrow my brow.
I know diversionary tactics when I hear them. "If you want to-"
The smile fades
from his face. "I don't. I have a shit load of pictures on my digital
camera to develop." He leaves the kitchen without saying anything else.
I didn't mean to
give him the third degree about going to >SoHo with me or even going to
see Grady. He did save Gus from being hit by a taxi. I lean back against the
counter and try to puzzle out something that seems to be simple but feels
complex. It was a shock to both me and Brian when we found out Gus bought one
of Grady's paintings from the show. When we asked him about it he just told us,
"I like it, that's all, it's no big deal." In fact he seemed rather
defensive about it. I sigh. It's probably nothing. I tend to blow things out of
proportion, at least that's what Brian tells me. Besides that, it's not strange
for Gus to want to thank Grady, he did save his life. It isn't even strange
that he bought a piece of Grady's art. Gus is an artist himself, and Grady's
work is good. Shrugging it off, I walk out of the kitchen, grab my bag, and
yell out to Gus that I'm going and to call if he needs anything. He's right, we
can't hold his hand. I stop in front of the elevator and look back at the loft.
If he goes to the studio it will be the first time since his panic attack that
first week that he's gone alone. I won't deny that I'm worried about that.
Christ, I am a parent. When did that happen?
************************************
June 26, 2019 8:59am
Gus' POV
It was stupid,
like looking at this painting is stupid, like remembering a kiss that was
barely a kiss is stupid. I lie back on my bed and stare at the painting hanging
on the opposite wall. What the fuck was I thinking asking Justin about going to
>SoHo? Why did I even fucking
mention it at all? It's completely fucked that I can't stop thinking about
Grady's lips on mine, or the way he whispered in my ear, or the way he stoked
the heat in my stomach that's been dormant since… I close my eyes as guilt
presses heavy on my chest. I've tried not to think about it. I tried every way
I could to make it a mistake, to make it not mean
anything. It didn't mean anything, did it? Opening my eyes, I focus on the
painting. I can't stop fucking looking at it. The last four nights have been
filled with restlessness and insomnia. When I did sleep, all my fucking dreams
were a mixture of something I could see, but not quite reach. It's been endless
nights of staring at this fucking painting as the city lights shine across the
dark canvas, making the pink glow like neon.
Every day I went
to the studio I kept expecting Grady to show up, only he never did. I thought
about calling him, but what the fuck would I say? Why the fuck am I even giving
this so much thought? I fucking know why, and the guilt on my chest gets
heavier. I want to deny, deny, deny, but it's all just building up in me. It's
getting out of my control and I fucking hate that. I can't deny what I'm
feeling any more than I can deny the guilt that comes with it. Isn't my life
fucking complicated enough without adding this shit to the pile? Don't I have
enough to worry about, to think about, to fucking keep me awake at night
without this? What is this anyway?
I push myself up
and get off the bed. Fuck this. Just fuck this. Maybe if I just go fucking see
him I can rationalize these thoughts and fucking feelings away. Maybe if I just see him I can say to myself,
see Gus, it's fucking nothing. I pull on a pair of >
I leave the loft locking the door and setting the alarm before heading to the
elevator. When I exit the building I stop just outside the doors, realizing
that this will be the first time I've gone anywhere by myself since that first
week. Has it really been that long? I try not to think about it, but there is
a fear in me that I can't escape. I have to hail a cab which requires me to
basically step out into the street. There's no fucking way that's going to happen
without me freaking the fuck out. I know it, just like I know JR hates rap music.
Shit. What other fucking choice do I have? I could walk…all the way to fucking
SoHo. Yeah, that's not going to happen. I don't even know where the fucking
hotel is. Fuck. What if he isn't even at work? I lean against the side of the
building and light a cigarette. This is a fucking dumb idea. Running around,
putting myself in situations I won't be able to handle, just to fucking prove
that his kiss didn't mean shit. That Ash is still everything I ever wanted or
needed, and that this whateverthefuck with Grady is nothing. Yeah, right.
Sighing, I pull
my cell phone out of my bag and flip it open. I scroll down to Grady's cell
number, and yes I fucking entered it in my contacts because who the fuck
carries around numbers anymore? I take a deep drag of my cigarette and press
the dial button before I can fucking change my mind. I feel stupid and pathetic
and something else that's a mixture of excitement and guilt.
He picks up in
three rings. "Hello?" His voice is raspy and thick with sleep. Fuck.
"Hello?"
Speak Gus. Say
something, anything. "Hey." It comes out in a whoosh of air and
smoke.
"Gus?"
I close my eyes
and take a drag of my cigarette. "Yeah."
He yawns and I
can hear the rustling of sheets. "I didn't think you'd call."
"Me
either." There is a long silence that feels both uncomfortable and
comfortable at the same time. "You haven't been by." I mumble because
it's the only thing I can think to say.
"I
know." He sighs. "I didn't think you'd want to see me."
"Why?"
"You know
why."
Yeah, I did know
why and isn't that the bitch of it all. Just do it Gus. I've never been fucking
shy, or a fucking pussy. "Can you come by the studio today?"
"You really
want me to?"
I take the last
drag of my cigarette, open my eyes, and flick it to the street. "I asked
didn't I?"
"Yeah, I can
come by." He pauses. "Is around ten okay?"
"Yeah."
There is another
silence. "I'll see you then Gus."
"Right."
I flip the phone closed before I can say anything else. What the fuck am I
doing? I know what I'm doing. I'm going to go to the studio, I'm going to work
on developing my pictures, and then I'm going to tell Grady that while I
fucking wish something could happen that nothing can happen. I light another cigarette and start walking to
the studio. I stop and take a deep drag of my cigarette, since when did I wish something could fucking happen? I'm
so fucked.
*************************************
June 26, 2019 9:14am
Brian's
POV
I'm in the middle of replying to an e-mail when my direct line rings. Without
even looking away from the computer screen, I pick up my earpiece and put it
on. "Meeting over already?"
A soft laugh
comes over the line. "Hello Brian."
I click send on
my e-mail and sit back in my chair. "Lindsay."
"How are
you?"
I roll my eyes
and spread out a set of preliminary drawings for the new Vox gaming system
across my desk. "Busy." I say, because I know that while she might
care how I am, that's not why she's calling.
"Oh."
She says as if she's surprised. "Well…I won't keep you."
"He's fine
Lindsay."
"I
know." She pauses. "His prescriptions are about to run out. I called
his doctor and-"
"He doesn't
need them." I say, cutting her off.
"What do you
mean he doesn't need them?" Even though her voice is soft I can feel the
sting of the sharpness in her tone.
Pinching the
bridge of my nose I lean back in my chair. "He isn't taking them."
"He
isn't?" Her voice is unsure.
"No, he
isn't." I wonder how many times I'll have to repeat it before she gets it.
"Why
not?"
"He doesn't
want to."
"Did you
tell him to stop taking them?"
"Christ
Lindsay, you're like a dog with a bone. Look, he came to me and Justin and told
us that he wanted to stop taking the sleep meds. We said fine. He said he
wanted to stop taking his anti-depressants. I said; let me call about that
because I know how long he's been on that shit. My doctor gave the okay to
start decreasing how much he took, so he's almost weaned himself off of
it." I remove my fingers from the bridge of my nose and pick up one of the
drawings. Hot and sexy, but not blatant. Good, but still needs some work.
"Brian?"
"What?"
I snap.
"Why didn't
you tell us?" She snaps back.
I laugh.
"Like you told me about the fucking sleeping medication?" She sighs
into the phone. "Look, he said he wanted to tell you himself, so we left
it up to him."
She pauses.
"We're thinking about coming up to see him."
Christ, he's only
been here three weeks and already they want to fucking visit him. "Talk to
him about it."
"We're going to
"And you
thought you'd make a little detour to the Big Apple?" I stand up and walk
around my desk to some boards that are set up against the wall.
"JR has been
begging us to let her see Gus."
"Call Gus.
Ask him. You know Justin and I don't care if you want to come. Now I have to
go. I've got a shitload of work to do." It wasn't even a lie. I have way
too many meetings today and way too many ad-copies to approve, and art to look
over, and clients to please. Not only that, I have to make a little room in my
schedule for the surprise, but not really surprise, visit Justin is going to
pay me after his meeting is over.
"Brian, are
you listening to me?" She sounds irritated. Shit, was she talking?
"No."
Why lie?
She sighs into
the phone. "I'll call Gus, but I'm sure he'll want to see JR." I can
almost see her smiling. "He can't say no to her."
I laugh as I take
a board and toss it across the room because it is pretty much complete crap.
"Well then I guess we'll see you this weekend."
"I'll let
you know. Bye Brian."
"Later."
I remove my earpiece and toss it on my desk. Great, Mel, >
"Sure thing
boss."
I toss the board
to the floor and wonder how much it will take to convince Justin that taking a
mini-vacation is just what we need. I sigh. Most likely he'll want to stay. I
smile to myself as I sit down in my chair. Maybe I'll just come up with a plan
to convince him to say yes.
***************************************
June 26, 2019 9:36am
Justin's
POV
I've decided that
I hate this restaurant. It's not the atmosphere or the waiters or anything
trivial like that. I just don't care for French cuisine. It's really kind of
funny, considering I spent a month in >
"You know
I'm starting to think you don't like this place." She pushes back a lock
of her strawberry blond hair and grins at me.
"It's not
the place Amy, it's the food."
Her eyes widen
and she presses a hand to her chest. I swear she wanted to be an actress before
she got into her profession. "What a horrible thing to say. You don't like
French Cuisine?"
I shake my head.
"Amy, you've known me for how many years now, twelve? Are you really just
now figuring that out?"
She folds her
napkin and sets it aside. "Didn't you and Brian go to >
I shrug. She
reaches for her briefcase, placed on the chair beside her, and pulls out a file
folder. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I like French food anymore than I did
before we went."
She shakes her
head at me and wrinkles her freckled covered nose. "That's just not right
at all, darling."
She flips open
the file folder which means, thank god, we can finally get down to the reason
we are here. "So what's this great news you just had to share with
me?"
She sorts through
a few papers and then looks up at me, her thin pink lips spreading into a wide
smile. "You have two offers. Both are well known and well respected
galleries." I should hope so. I don't do Mom and Pop shows anymore. She
looks back down at the folder, her long thin index finger running down a piece
of paper. "Gavaiz in >SoHo and-" She flips a piece of
paper over. "Rauling's in Midtown."
"Dates?"
I ask like I didn't just hear what she said. I try to keep it all business, but
I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face at the mention of Rauling's.
"Gavaiz
wants you for…the end of December, they haven't given me a solid date
yet." I love that, plenty of notice and no need to rush things.
"Rauling's…" She looks up at me the smile on her face fading. She
sighs. "July 27th."
Perfect, just
fucking perfect. "Can't do it."
"Justin."
I hold up my
hand. "I'll give you two very valid reasons."
She sighs.
"I know your reasons."
"One, that's
really short notice and two, you know I have a show at TK that same day."
She rolls her
eyes. Sometimes I question the fact that she claims to be three years older
than me. "Justin, it's Rauling's." She leans forward on the table.
"Rauling's." She stretches out the name as if that, and saying it
over and over again, will make a difference.
Leaning back in
my chair, I have a sudden craving for a cigarette. "I know it's Rauling's.
It's a big deal." I sigh. Fuck. "How many pieces do they want?"
She smiles at me,
her eyes twinkling. "Depending on the sizes." She looks up at me and
rolls her eyes. "They'd like ten to twelve of the size you normally bring
in…plus ten smaller ones."
I raise an
eyebrow. "Are you seriously telling me that they want anywhere from twenty
to twenty-two pieces with less than a month's notice?" I feel a slight
twitch in my hand, but ignore it. "And they want me to include small scale
work?" It's not that I don't like to do smaller scale work, but they take
longer to produce, due to the small details involved. I should say my hand
doesn't like small scale.
"Darling, I have one word for you, Rauling's."
I lean forward
and place my elbows on the table. Fuck. Rauling's is one of the top Galleries
in >New York, and by one of the top, I mean the top. Fuck. I shake my
head. "When do they need a confirmation?"
She tries to bite
back a smile but she fails miserably. She fucking knows there is no way I can
turn them down. She looks back down at the papers in front of her before
looking back at me. "Monday."
Shit. "Okay."
I sigh. "Let me talk to Brian, and can you call Rauling's to see if they
can push back the date?"
She raises her
eyebrow at me. "Darling, you don't ask Rauling's to push back dates."
I place my head
in my hands and stare down at the white table cloth. "Has Gavaiz mentioned
how many pieces they want?"
"Well they
are a bigger gallery, size wise, so I imagine they'd want more than what
Rauling's is asking." I hear her shuffling papers. "Looks like for
now they are asking for twenty. Scale is not an issue for them."
I run a hand
through my hair and look up at her. "Okay." I take a deep breath.
"Wait for confirmation on the date for Gavaiz before we give them a go. As
for Rauling's…" I sigh. "I have to talk to Brian first." She
rolls her eyes at me, but I could fucking care less. Sure Brian is co-owner of
TK, but he doesn't have time to be hands on for setting up a show. I could push
most of the work off on Maddie, but that's really not my style. Either Brian or
I will have to be at TK that night. I won't be able to because I'll have to be
at Rauling's, and Brian, fuck, Brian hasn't missed a single show since I moved
to fucking >New York.
Amy laughs and I
glare at her. "You think too much darling." She straightens out her
papers and closes the folder before returning it to her briefcase. "Confer
with your husband and let me know this weekend, sooner if possible. They hate
to be kept waiting." She straightens out her blouse and smiles at me.
"Justin, you really can't say no to Rauling's."
She's right, and
I fucking hate that she is. Rauling's is the fucking >