Disclaimer:I do not own Queer as Folk Any characters and situations and anything else pertaining to real life is referred here for non-profit purposes only No copyright infringement is intended. Although everyone here is now so Out of character, I hardly think this matters. Sorry folks. These things happen.

A/N: SURPRISE!!! I'm BAAAAAAACK!!!!! All right, well almost. This chapter was like the Energizer Bunny It just kept going and going and going....but I'm almost done! But it was so long I decided to split it in two and let you guys n' gals fight over this morsel while I finish up. Part 2 should be ready and posted later tonight or tomorrow.

Chapter 6

The Second Week

Part 2 The Dance Contest

PART 1

Dawn.

Justin endured the kitchens, acquired Gus' loaf and made his way to the river. His steps were slow and sorrowful and his limp heavy. His eyes were soft with sorrow and they shone with unshed tears. He carried a piece of paper in his hand.

The birds could see at once that something was wrong. The ducklings all crawled into his lap and let him pet them and even the mother duck nuzzled him a bit before asking what he had brought that morning.

Justin smiled a little at that and spread out all the goodies that had been given him.

"What's wrong, Justin?" Gus asked.

Sorrowfully, Justin held out the piece of paper for the heron to read.

"Well, well, well!" the heron exclaimed, "Let's see what we have here." He bent his head down to the paper and began to read.

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"Michael, what the HELL!? What are you up to now?"

Brian reached up and snatched one of the many posters that hung around the Great Hall, on the windows, and elsewhere probably throughout the entire habitable castle.

"I don't know what you mean Brian. Why would I be up to anything?"

"Because you're ALWAYS up to something lately!" snarled Brian. They read:

LIBERTY KINGDOM PRESENTS

THE 1ST ROYAL PROMENADE!

A ROYAL DANCE OFF TO CELEBRATE

ME

MARRYING PRINCE BRIAN IN ONE WEEK'S TIME

DAZZLE THE PRINCE WITH YOUR SMOOTHEST DANCE MOVES

A SPECIAL SPOTLIGHT DANCE FOR THE ONE WHO IMPRESSES THE PRINCE THE MOST

PLAN THE WEEKEND DINNER

AND 250 GOLD COINS

ADMISSION BY DONATION

ALL DONATIONS WILL BE DONATED TO THE SPITTSENBERRGHUR ORPHAN'S HOME

"Dammit Michael! What the Hell is this! Wasn't your last "contest" enough of a humiliation for you!?"

"It'll be different this time," said Michael.

"Well, I'd appreciate a little warning before you come up with these little ideas to pimp me out! Take these down at once! There will be no such contest!"

"I can't. It's too late," answered Michael, a smug little smile playing upon his lips.

"What do you mean...it's too late?" asked Brian softly.

"I sent out the truck this afternoon. Spittsenberrghur should be wallpapered by now. You don't want to disappoint the poor orphans do you?"

Justin had had enough of this. Wearily, he limped across the Great Hall and started up the stairs. A quarter of the way up, he stumbled and fell a few steps down again. He sat there, massaging his foot.

Brian watched him go like a hawk, thinking...thinking...

"YOU BASTARD!!!" he roared, his voice reverberating throughout the Great Hall. "You planned this out on purpose to spite Justin! You know he can't dance with his limping disability. So you created something else you KNEW he couldn't compete in!"

"Why Brian! I have no idea what you're talking about!" said Michael in this horrible, stilted voice.

"Like HELL you don't!" Brian yelled.

He turned his back on Michael and strode over to Justin, his eyes blazing. Justin watched him come with fear and trepidation shining out of his own. He had never seen Brian so angry. And now he was coming for him. But he was angry with Michael. He wouldn't hurt him. Would he?

And then he was there, towering over him like a leather sex god, violent emotion radiating off of him in waves.

Justin looked up. Frightened sapphires looked up into angry emeralds. Brian reached down and grabbed his denim collar with one large leather gauntlet. He hoisted Justin easily into the air...

Justin closed his eyes and cringed in fear.

...and grabbed him under the knees, and adjusted him so that he was holding him in the cradling position. Justin was smushed up against a mass of leather, leather everywhere. He relaxed against it and luxuriated. His lips were mashed against the leather god's in a hot and hungry kiss.

In utter contempt and defiance to Michael, Brian strode up the stairs and carried Justin up to his room.

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"Ahhh. I see. I'm so sorry," said the heron. He let Justin stroke his bill before snapping up a scone and then heading back to the water.

One by one, the birds finished eating, showed their sympathy, and swam away until only Gus was left. Justin had crumbled his loaf up and Gus ate happily. Justin looked on, happy in love but sad in his plight as well.

Thanks to the Prince's bread, Gus was nearly full grown. He was almost as big as the heron. His feathers were white, soft and silky and his neck was long and graceful. His wings had a wide span, nearly four feet across.

Gus ate and ate and then tossed the last morsel into the air and caught it and gobbled it up. Then he ambled over to the river, honking softly in a content sort of way where he had a drink. He tried to ignore the way Justin's sad eyes followed him.

Gus continued to ignore him and began walking along the grass, pecking up bits of gravel and blades of grass. Justin just smiled in sad love and watched him for a bit. Finally, he got up and made his way over and in a sort of sad, absentminded way, patted him on the head and turned to go.

Gus looked very hard at the slow, sad, retreating form and then sighed and bowed his head.

"Wait! Come back! I can help you!

Justin stilled and turned, his entire being hoping against hope that this was true.

"I did not want to say anything, because the price...for both of us... is high. Do you still want my help?"

Justin nodded excitedly.

"First, if I do help you, this is going to delay my own plans for another week. As payment, and to regain my strength, you must promise to bring me 2 loaves of the Prince's bread every day for a week. Second, the help that I do give will not be much. And whatever you decide to do with what I give you, you will only have till midnight. There will be pain afterwards, a great deal. Oh, Justin, are you sure? Is this man really worth all this trouble?"

Justin nodded resolutely. He could not explain to Gus, but it didn't even matter if Brian wasn't worth it. He was in a do or die situation here. And yet, even that did not matter, because Brian WAS worth it. He was worth anything. He was worth everything.

"Very well, then. Here we go." Gus began honking softly and he flapped his wings hard. Feathers began to fly. Soon the air was filled with white. The feathers flew up and around and down like snowflakes. There were tiny, soft, pin feathers, long and large, more mature feathers and everything in between. The feathers flew up and around but whenever they went down they gravitated towards Justin.

Justin watched in amazement as a few pinfeathers floated down and stuck to his shirt. Then a few more. Then a few more stuck to those feathers. Then faster and faster, the feathers swirled around him in a whirlwind of white and joined onto each other and onto his upper body. At the same time, more feathers attached themselves over his feet. Justin had never experienced anything more wonderful or enchanting in his entire life.

At last, Gus stopped honking and he was still. He was exhausted and nearly completely bald. His wings were gone. His body was nearly completely bald except for a few small patches of pinfeathers and his white neck. Even his tailfeathers were gone.

Justin was now wearing a fancy dress topcoat made entirely of Gus' feathers. It reached down to just cover his pert little bubble butt. The last row was made up of Gus' longest feathers, creating a flared effect. More long feathers spread out along the top, creating a high collar. The coat's sleeves reached down to his wrists. On his feet, he wore feathered slippers.

"There! I can do no more!" gasped Gus, "Now listen closely. Do not put on the coat until you intend to dance with the Prince. It will last but one dance. Put the slippers inside the shoes you intend to wear. They too, will have a limited effect and at midnight they will fail altogether and the pain you experience now will return double on you. And do not forget, this will cost you 2 loaves of the Prince's bread per day now. I told you the price would be high."

Justin bent down and hugged the little bird conveying his love and thanks in any and every way he could.

"Oh, one more thing. Keep these things secret until the appointed time. Tell no-one, not even your valet. I have seen many things in my flights around the castle and I have seen there is evil in his heart. He is not to be trusted."

"Justin's mind raced. If that was true, he could not risk hiding this wonderful coat in his wardrobe or anywhere else in his room. He patted Gus to show that he understood.

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Justin took off the wonderful coat and slippers, folded them over his arms and then took the coat he was wearing off and folded that over everything. He ran straight back to the castle, went in through a side door and crept along the halls like a bandit. Fortunately, he met no-one along the way.

He did not go to Brian. He did not go to his room. No, if he was to trust no-one there was only one place he could take this, the one place that was his and his alone - His studio.

Arriving at the correct door, he pulled out his golden key from around his neck and quickly opened the door, darted inside and then quickly locked the door again.

A few minutes passed.

In what seemed like no time, Justin reappeared, sans feather coat and slippers, his hair coiffed, his clothes straight and neat. He locked the studio again and ran off to meet Brian and Michael for breakfast.

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The rest of the week went by pretty smoothly. Justin followed his routine pretty much as usual, except that in the kitchens, he'd wiggle his fanny a little more, show a bit more appreciation to the grannies and when they were all in a twitter, he'd sneak an extra loaf into his pocket along with the one they would give him. They never noticed. He hated doing it but he had made a promise and received magical goods and he wanted to make good on his end of the deal.

Next was breakfast. Every morning, Justin always sat on his own separate side of the square table and every morning Brian would get up and move over beside him. Justin would always give him a "Shame on you, you are just fuelling the fire," type of look and Brian would always studiously ignore it. Otherwise, there was nothing Justin could do. Brian was Prince, he could do as he liked and nobody could stop him. Michael's green eyes would flash bloody murder but he would bite his tongue and say nothing. He couldn't. He had dug his own grave and stepped one foot in with his little stunt and he knew he had to grin and bear just about everything and anything until that Friday when he could dazzle Brian with his smooth moves.

After breakfast, Justin would lock himself into his studio working on his next round of painting and of course his magnum opus. It remained his mostly guarded treasure and secret. At 1:00, the hated tutor would come and at 3:00 he would leave, as frustrated as ever. A strange thing happened. Justin learned his letters, learned all he could about writing up to a certain point and then...and then he hit a wall. He improved no more. He could write a little faster, stopped pressing the pen or pencil into the paper to the breaking point but he never really...improved. He spelling was always wrong and childish and it was always hard for him to form his letters and hard for him to express his thoughts and feelings through the written word. Finally, on Thursday, the tutor gave up in disgust.

"It is an absolute waste of my precious time to be here any longer!" the tutor spat out in venomous hate in Brian's office that afternoon. "He is either faking, or without a doubt, the stupidest man I've ever come across!"

"WATCH - YOUR - TONE !!!" growled out Brian dangerously.

"I am the BEST in my field! He claims he has been practicing my assignments constantly, yet he makes no improvement. However, they are designed to do just that! I don't expect miracles but I expect some results after every lesson. There are none! I can only conclude that he is fooling around with those pointless pictures of his at all hours and not working on my assignments at all!"

"Those "pointless pictures" as you call them sold out- at his last art show!" growled out Brian even more dangerously. There was a scraping noise, as if a chair had been pushed back along the floor.

"Whatever!" the tutor dismissed carelessly - and foolishly, "My point is, if he is not going to put in the effort or stop lying to me, there's nothing more I can do here! I quit!"
There was a thump and a bumping noise as if someone had fallen over furniture and maybe a few books had fallen off their shelves.

"That was for calling him a liar. Your resignation is accepted. Get out. You should think about taking your services on the road, out of Liberty Kingdom, for the moment I see your stick figure face again, it will surely be your last!"

"Well, I never...!" gasped the tutor.

"EAT MORE BRAN! Didn't you hear me? I'm done with you! Get out!"

Brian's heavy office door was yanked open and the tutor stalked out sporting a puffy eye already changing to deep shade of purple. He stopped short in surprise when he saw Justin standing there, leaning against the opposite wall. He was studiously examining his fingernails.

The tutor recovered quickly, tossed his long pointy nose in the air, and strode away and out of the castle. They never saw him again.

After he had gone, and before the door could close completely, Justin knocked softly and cautiously entered.

Brian's back was to the door. "I thought I told you I never wanted to...- Oh, it's you, Sunshine! Come on in!" His tune changed as he turned around.

Justin did. He sat down in the visitor's chair and then pointed at the door. He made punching motions with his fists and then waggled his fingers at Brian. "Shame on you!"

"Ahhh, you heard that, did you? Well, then you heard what a pompous dick he was being as well. I'm sorry you had to put up with him for as long as you did."

Justin hung his head and shook it sadly. Slowly, he wrote out on his pad. "IM SORY. I FAIL YO."

"NO, JUSTIN!" Brian's voice was rough with pain and anger. But it was anger at himself, as usual. "It was I who failed YOU! I holed myself up in here trying to avoid you and passed you off on that ass. From now on, I'll try to help you more myself. And if you make more mistakes, I'll write them out and show you where you went wrong, OK?"

Justin's face was alight with the rapturous joy that gave him his name. That was all that he had ever wanted.

"Do we have a deal?" Brian asked him.

Justin nodded.

"Good. Why don't we seal it with a kiss?" Bran motioned to his lap.

Justin hastened to comply. Brian's lap was quickly becoming his favourite place in the world. Even better than his stu -

And then, soft and warm, Brian's tongue was filling his mouth and he lost all train of coherent thought.

Of course that kiss led to another. And another...and another...and anoth...well, you get the idea. (winks)

And of course, someone was watching.

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Now, (ahem, ahem) where was I? Ahh yes, well after 3:00 after the tutor left (and after he left for good) Justin would throw himself into his paintings again with a renewed vigour and the unbridled joy that only came with sweet freedom and creativity. At the end of the day, he could cover everything up and lock the door and meet Brian at his door to walk him to dinner.

Dinner. If Justin thought breakfast was awkward, dinner became ten times worse. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Michael ate in stony silence. Hate radiated off him in waves. Justin allowed Brian to sit beside him mostly because at this point he also couldn't stop him. But he strictly insisted through his behaviour and gestures that Brian was to sit in his own space at least 6 inches away and to keep his hands to himself and behave himself with dinner time manners. He hated Michael and he could feel the hate waves coming off Michael and he knew there was nothing he could do to fix things. But at the same time he felt dinner was supposed to be a formal time (well more formal than breakfast anyway) and he saw no point in provoking Michael unnecessarily.

Brian behaved himself but barely. He shared no such view. He was seriously pissed at Michael and his contests and games and attempts as he constantly put it "to pimp him out." He had no desire to spare his feelings. After dinner, his evenings were spent with Justin primarily. He made it a rule that Michael was not excluded from any game or other activity but that his attention primarily belonged to Justin now. And so, after a few nights, Michael just left them alone.

All three men slept alone. This made Michael pissed. It made Justin stressed. And of course, it made Brian horny.

TBC