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AFTER THE PARTY
Brian's Point of View


I couldn't give him what he wanted. The words, the flowers, the romantic picnics.

Now, he'd met someone who was prepared to do just that.

I'd had a feeling for a while, even before Michael, in his meddling way, told me.

'Working on a project,' he'd said.

Yeah, he was working on something all right.

I kept telling myself it's the best thing for him. Finding someone about his own age, someone who was able to say and do all the wonderful romantic things.

Each time he was late home, I knew. I could smell the guy on him. And he really wasn't that good at hiding the truth. Nervous, jumpy, making excuses.

Slowly he was slipping away from me and into the waiting arms of the other guy.

The more it happened, the more I convinced myself it was the best thing for him.

He'd be happier. That's what mattered.

To hell with my feelings! Most people said I didn't have them anyway, so it didn't matter.

Whatever he needed, I'd give him his freedom.

After everything he'd had to deal with, he should have what he wanted. A person who could do the romance, the sweet things.

It's not me! Probably never will be.

But I care. A lot. He's been a part of my life for almost two years, and believe it or not; I like having him here.

I like coming home to him, enjoying one of his home-cooked meals, relaxing on the sofa in front of the television.

Never thought I'd like those things. It's different with him. It's become comfortable, welcoming.

Shit! Where did that come from?

I know, I said it didn't matter, but hell who am I kidding?

It matters, and it hurts. Beyond belief! I might one day be able to say the words he's always wanted to hear. I'm no good with words, not in that situation.

At work, presenting a fabulous campaign to a client, no problem at all. I'm the best at what I do. I thrive on it, gets the adrenalin pumping.

Yeah, I'm blowing my own horn. No-one else will. Except him.

He's always defended me, put up with my shit.

He's always been so damned persistent.

Why now? Why, all of a sudden, is it all too hard?

I called him on it the other night.

Used all my powers to arouse him, excite him, then leaning over him on the floor, I let him know that I knew about the other guy.

It smacked him fair between the eyes.

The realisation he could no longer hide.

I left him lying there! Walked away, telling him with my actions, that we're done.

It's up to him now. He can choose to stay or go.

I'm not going to beg him to stay. Not me. I'd rather wallow in my own self-pity. It's what I do!

Christ! Why did I agree to publicise the comic book?

But I promised! I never break them. So, I've put together a huge party Friday night at Babylon. Planned the whole event, hired actors to give the whole of gay PA a taste of Rage!

How am I going to get through it?

We're barely speaking, but he hasn't moved out yet.

He and Michael aren't talking. He found out Michael told me about the other guy.

They're pissed at each other, and I'm just getting pissed.

It's taking every fibre of my being to stay in control or at least some semblance of it.

It's Friday night, party time at Babylon.

The rest of the gang is having a wonderful time, getting right into the spirit of the evening.

The 'Rage' creators are barely civil to each other and I'm having a hell of a time even being here.

I can barely look at him. Yet, hiding behind one of the black Rage masks being handed out, I can't help but practically stare at him.

God, he's so beautiful! Just like the first night I saw him.

Never the type I usually went for, but there was something about him.

Still is. Those blue eyes. I don't think I've ever seen anyone else with such amazing eyes like his. They almost speak to you. So alive, so vibrant.

I signal the show to start, and it's impressive. The crowd love it, but they don't know how real the storyline is.

I think about that night - the prom. The night I almost lost him for good. It was a miracle he didn't die that night.

A miracle! That's exactly what he is.

Fuck! The show's over, and thundering applause invades my thoughts.

They're both thanking me, saying all the polite things, then he says he needs a drink and walks away.

I can discreetly watch from behind my mask, the one made of black material and the other from long ago that I now have back in place.

I see my chance. To make the choice for him. I move to the backroom with some other masked person, telling the munchers how proud I am of him. Saying I'm looking for him. Knowing they'll tell him.

It's all so easy! He'll come looking for me. He always does.

This time he won't like what he finds.

I sense him staring at me, the pain evident in his blue eyes.

I'm there with the 'Rage' portrayer sucking my cock.

I know what he's thinking. How could I want to see him and be there letting some other guy suck me off?

He's hurt! I know he is. But, so am I!

He walks off without speaking. As soon as he's out of sight, I push the trick off me and zip up, rushing outside.

I see the blonde head veering towards the bar.

It's then that I see him! The interloper, the one who has driven us apart.

The crowd appears to part as they see each other. They stand close, and he's soon kissing the lips that I enjoyed kissing.

He turns and sees me watching from a short distance away.

I slowly deliberately remove the mask.

The gang glance between him and me, not knowing what to do or say. Thankfully, they do nothing, just wait.

We look into each other's eyes, and then I replace the mask.

That fuck has his sleazy arms around him, and he's turning him away from me, almost pushing him out of the club.

For a few very long seconds, I follow the golden hair as he weaves through the crowd. Then I turn around to dance with anyone who's there.

Stupidly, I feel a stray tear as it trickles down my cheek, but no-one else sees it.

Michael tries to interfere, to console me, but I reject his efforts.

None of them realise what I've done. I've deliberately made the choice for him. I let him go.

Swaying to the music, I can only think of how many times, hundreds perhaps even thousands, we danced here together, our bodies perfectly in tune.

And, afterwards, back at the loft, our home, in bed together.

Never again would he be in my bed, our bed.

I stop dancing, though he's always said I can't dance for shit! He's always called me on everything and gotten away with it!

Fuck! What have I done? The best thing in my life and I've pushed him so hard.

I don't immediately realise, but my feet are moving, and suddenly I'm outside.

It must have been only a few minutes because he's still there in the street with that fiddler.

I can almost see his eyes from where I'm standing, and I remember back to that night we met.

Here, outside Babylon, the glow of a streetlamp on him.

Just like now!

They're nearing the corner, and if I don't do something now, it will be too late.

I sprint across the street, but they're moving away and talking and don't see me.

Shit! I can't let him leave. I know I've hurt him far more than he deserves.

He's hurt me too. Turned my world upside down and inside out, then threw it on the rubbish heap. Betrayed what we had together.

I thought I'd shown him in every possible way how much he means to me. Christ! I let him move in, paid for school, encouraged his talent, put up with his shit too!

At first, I don't even hear myself, but I'm calling after him.

"Justin! Justin! Wait!"

He hears me and turns around. I think, even in the dim light, I see a slight smile.

"What do you want, Brian?" he sternly asks me. "I've already thanked you for the party."

He's still angry, and I can't blame him for that. I pushed too hard this time, and he's in freefall.

"I want you to come home," I say, hoping it's enough.

"What? Why?" He's a stubborn prick, and he's not going to make this easy for me.

"Because it's where you belong." I'm edging closer until I'm about ten feet away.

"That's a great reason." Justin remains cool with me.

If I stand even the remotest chance, I have to say something significant right now to convince him to stay.

I take a deep breath and pray. "Justin, we've both made mistakes, done stupid things. My excuse is I don't know any better. At least, I didn't until you. I cannot imagine not having you in my life. You're far more than the trick who never went away. You were never a trick." I pause for only a second, then continue. "I've never been used to sharing feelings and emotions. I shielded myself from that my entire life until I met you. Justin, you're the only person who truly gets me, and I know you've put up with so much. I'm hoping you'll give me another chance: give us another chance. I don't want to be without you."

He hesitates, and I think I might have succeeded, but the fiddler is saying something to him, and it seems to be having the opposite effect.

"Don't know if I can do this anymore, Brian," Justin sadly says, and he starts to turn away. That creep has him by the arm.

I feel my heartbreak again, a stabbing pain I never knew I could feel.

He's the other half of me, I realise. Why had I never thought of that before?

Justin is about to move when I speak again. "Justin, I need you." I call out. He stops and slowly turns and looks back at me.

His eyes! Why is it always his beautiful eyes?

"I love you, Justin." I finally admit to him and to myself. I can't believe I said those words.

He looks stunned briefly taking in what he'd heard; then he says something to the fiddler who releases his hold and moves away.

I'm even closer now, mere feet between us.

I open my arms, hoping he'll take the hint. And he does.

The space between us disappears in seconds, and I have my arms securely embracing my favourite blonde.

He looks into my eyes and I into his.

For the first time I know it's true.

I'm in love with Justin Taylor!

I am so fucked!

He almost knows what I'm thinking, so I give him my trademark smirk, quickly kiss his forehead.

"Let's go home, Sunshine!" I say, finally.

Without a word, he wraps his arm around my waist as I put mine across his shoulders.

It's going to take some work; it's new territory for me.

Who'd have thought it?

Brian Kinney is in a relationship!

And I don't mind one bit!
The End.
Kinnetik Eagle is the author of 5 other stories.
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