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Author's Chapter Notes:

 

The making of Brian Kinney is pretty much complete. By this point we see him at his most 'Brianish'. It's really not a pretty sight. But he's become what his circumstances and his environment made him, for better or worse . . . Enjoy! TAG

 

 

 

Chapter 20 - Routine.

 

"Greetings boys and boys and Debbie," Brian sauntered into the Novotny family kitchen and seated himself in one of the empty chairs around the table.

 

"It's about time, you little asshole. What part of 'Dinner's at six and you better be there on time' did you not understand," an exasperated Debbie scolded as she passed plates and serving dishes to whoever had a free hand.

 

"Lay off, Ma," Michael intoned right on cue. "You know Brian likes to make a grand entrance. That's just how Brian is. Besides, I'm sure he's got better things to do than come to a family dinner. Right, Brian?"

 

Brian shrugged. Actually, he'd just been lying around watching television at the loft when he remembered at the last minute that he'd been ordered to show up at Deb's for dinner tonight. Brian didn't mean to show up late and why Mikey would think he'd need to grandstand or make an entrance for a simple family dinner was beyond him. He didn't have any real plans either. But, of course, Mikey would never believe that. In his friend's mind, apparently Brian at twenty-eight was still some perpetually sexy fuck machine who was always either in the process of finding a new, hot, fuckable guy or actually busy consummating the act. At least that's how Brian felt his friend regarded him. And who was he to disabuse the man of his favorite fantasies?

 

"You know me. Busy, busy. So many asses out there that need my attention and so little time," Brian prevaricated, letting Michael and the rest think what they wanted to think since that's what seemed to make them happy.

 

"Oh, come on, Brian. You can't seriously tell me you already snagged a trick before six p.m. on a Sunday evening," Michael's new friend Ted questioned from his place at the other side of the table.

 

Brian didn't really know what to think about this relatively new addition to their little improvised family. Ted Schmidt was an unassuming, nondescript type, with a quick wit and lots of smarts but also with serious self-esteem issues. He'd latched on, almost desperately, to Michael as soon as they'd met. Brian didn't think Ted was all that bad looking - he actually had the most amazingly beautiful, soulful eyes you could ever imagine - but his lack of self-confidence was a big turn off. And he seemed to just assume Brian would look down on him, so why disappoint?

 

Brian donned his seediest smirk and just smiled at Ted without actually saying anything. He wasn't going to outright lie, but he'd happily let them believe whatever they wanted about him. Vic, who wasn't naive enough to believe half of the stories that circulated about Brian, snorted a little laugh at all of them and then went back to his dinner. Brian reached over and squeezed Vic's shoulder conspiratorially, happy to see that the sick man was feeling well enough to join them for a change.

 

Luckily, before anyone could pry further into Brian's sex life, the doorbell rang and the lesbian contingent of their little group bustled into the house without waiting to be asked in. Along with Brian and an assortment of Michael's other misfit friends, Debbie had adopted Lindsey Peterson into the clan after about the fifth or sixth time Brian had invited his old friend to the Diner for lunch. Deb claimed she was glad to finally have another female around to counter the overwhelming amount of testosterone she was usually subjected to. Along with Lindsey, though, came Melanie, the lover she'd been with since just after they'd graduated from college. Brian could have lived without Mel's caustic attitude and open hostility. But, even then, Brian played the role he'd been thrust into without much protest. Mel liked to think of him as the evil male influence that all good dykes should fight against, so Brian let her. It didn't make any difference to him.

 

Debbie finally finished setting the last of the heavy serving dishes full of pasta on the table right as the last of their number clambered down the stairs. Emmett, Michael's roommate, flounced his way through the living room and took the last vacant chair at the table just in time to accept the plate of garlic bread passed to him from Michael. Brian hid a smile over Emmett's latest outrageous costume in the beer bottle he was sipping from. Brian secretly got a huge kick out of the flamboyant queen's crazy taste in clothing. He respected that Emmett wasn't afraid to just be himself. He'd never admit that out loud, of course, because that wouldn't fit with the studly Brian Kinney image, but he could quietly appreciate the spectacle in his own mind.

 

Dinner at Deb's proceeded as usual. The gang was rowdy and the conversation was raunchy bordering on profane, just like always. Brian didn't contribute much, but that was normal too. He couldn't care less about Michael's latest comic book obsession, or Em's gossip about the botched cosmetic surgery some drag queen he knew had been subject to. He had little to no interest in Mel's rant over the latest news from the GLC or Ted's discussion of some recent news bite. Really, other than his longtime friendship with the Novotny's, Brian had nothing in common with any of them. Mostly he was content to just sit, eat and pretend to be part of the group, though, since that was what was expected of him.

 

“So, Brian, what’s your plan for tonight,” Michael asked, turning the conversation back on his best friend. “I have an early shift tomorrow at the Big Q but if you’re heading to Woody’s or the club I could probably go hang out with you for at least a little while.”

 

“Michael. You shouldn’t be out to all hours every night. Especially when you have to work in the morning,” Debbie enjoined in full mother hen mode.

 

“Ma! I’m a grown up. I can take care of myself. And if I want to go out at night, I will,” Michael asserted in a childishly whiney voice that made him sound far from grown up. “Besides, somebody’s got to look out for Brian. If anyone needs a designated driver it’s him.”

 

While Brian sat there saying nothing, the entire table full of people proceeded to have a rather long and heated conversation about what Brian should or should not do with his evening and whether or not Michael should tag along. Brian just kept picking at his food and sipping at his beer, passively listening to the debate. It sometimes amazed him the way Michael projected him into this role of playboy extraordinaire so that he could insinuate himself into the picture as Brian’s wingman and general minder. Meanwhile, Mel, Ted and Emmett contributed the occasional snarky comment. Brian didn’t bother to respond to any of them. He didn’t feel his input was wanted. If anyone HAD actually asked him, he probably would have said he wasn’t really in the mood to go out. But he really didn’t have any plans for the night other than returning to his stylish but empty loft, where he’d probably spend his time getting drunk. He could just as easily get drunk out at a bar with Michael and the rest of the crew. It didn’t matter much to Brian.

 

While his social plans were being decided for him, Brian looked around him at the group assembled in Debbie’s kitschy little kitchen. The Novotny home had in many ways been a shelter for the brunet all these years. He’d never forget all those times he’d come crawling in at whatever hour, dripping blood and sometimes barely able to walk, but confident that Debbie and Michael would do what they could to patch him up and heal him. He felt far more comfortable here that he had ever felt at his own parents’ house. At the same time, though, this place had never really felt like a home to him either. Probably because all the care and concern came with a price. It came with the constant pressure of Michael’s expectations and Debbie’s disappointments. It came with Michael’s unvoiced but always present desire to be more in Brian’s eyes than just a friend. It came with the assumption that Brian would be the person they needed to take care of.

 

Both Michael and Debbie were the type of people who needed to be needed. And in order to make that a reality, they had slowly changed Brian into what it was they envisioned him to be - someone who would need them. The process had been so slow and built up so gradually that no one even noticed it happening at the time. But, looking at himself through their eyes now, Brian saw that he’d become an almost completely different person. Not that he was complaining really - in a way he liked Michael’s adulation and Debbie’s mothering. He’d long known that he’d never been wanted in his own home, so it only seemed natural that he would do what was necessary to become what his surrogate family expected. If that’s what it took to be considered important and special in their eyes, he would gladly play his assigned role. Even if that role was beginning to grate and seemed pointless these days.

 

But what else did he have?

 

At long last, dinner was finished and it had been decided that the whole group would head over to Woody’s for a couple drinks. Then, later, Deb, Vic and the girls would head home while the boys continued on to Babylon. Brian had no real objections to this plan. It was pretty much par for the course. And so the crew bubbled out of the house, divided up amongst the available vehicles and headed to their favorite watering hole.

 

~**~**~**~**~

 

Even from his hidden spot behind a teetering stack of empty beer kegs at the far side of the bar, Justin still had a pretty good view of Brian and the gang. The large group was gathered, as usual, around one of the pool tables and the two small round-top tables nearby. They were all laughing and chatting and it looked very congenial. Even Brian seemed in a fairly decent mood so far this evening. For a change.

 

Despite the seemingly happy scene, Justin was very worried about his charge. The rest of them might not have noticed it, but the boy that had known Brian from birth had seen the way the lonely man was changing. Brian rarely laughed or even smiled these days. He'd smirk or sneer but a true, joyful, unselfconscious smile from the taciturn man was almost unheard of anymore. His temper was always short. He'd become hypercritical of everyone - not even his friends escaped his sarcastic put downs. Any natural empathy Brian had possessed as a boy had long since disappeared. He was cold and distant and no longer seemed to get any real satisfaction out of anything.

 

And the worst part was that there didn't seem to be anything Justin could do to help Brian.

 

At this point, Justin hadn’t actually talked to Brian in years. Luckily Brian was no longer at risk for any physical abuse and since he’d cut off almost all ties to his parents outside of the couple times a year he was summoned for a ‘family’ meal - which was always code for the fact that his father was going to hit him up for money - even their emotional abuse was limited in scope. The rest of the time, Brian just moved through his world maintaining the status quo, and didn’t need much day-to-day assistance from his spiritual guide. Plus, Justin’s presence always seemed to make Brian uncomfortable, which in turn made Justin feel guilty and even more worried. As a result, he’d just given up trying to maintain a visible presence in Brian’s life. Not that he wasn’t still watching - he couldn’t help himself - but these days he always stayed hidden.

 

It wasn’t like talking to Brian would have helped anyway. Brian had long ago given up listening to Justin, or anyone else for that matter, when it came to personal advice or emotional support. Brian had closed himself off from virtually everyone. Emotionally, that is. Physically, he was still there. He had a small but active circle of friends who thought of themselves as close but who in reality saw very little of the true Brian Kinney. Brian was more successful than ever at work and could still charm the birds out of the trees if he chose to. And as far as his sex life was concerned, he’d never been hotter or more desired. But when it came to anything other than superficial interactions, Brian simply refused to engage.

 

Tonight, while Justin watched, he saw it happening yet again. Brian’s attention slowly drifted away from the conversations around him as he withdrew into himself. Justin could see the restless shifting of the beautiful hazel eyes. It was as if Brian was searching for something to cure his dissatisfaction - something that was missing from the present company and maybe his life in general. His glance roamed around the room but Justin could tell that nothing Brian saw held his attention for long. Not the warmth of his friends’ conversation, not the camaraderie of the pool game, not even the bevy of beautiful men who wandered throughout the bar. Brian had that, ‘Been There, Done That’ expression on his face.

 

Justin could tell Brian was ready to bolt even before he stood up, drained the rest of his beer and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

 

“Brian? What’s up? Where you goin’?” Michael immediately asked, as always acutely aware of his best friend’s every move. “I thought we were all heading to Babylon later?”

 

“Not tonight, Mikey. It’s a total troll-fest in here tonight. I doubt Babylon will be much better. I think I’ll try my luck at the baths instead,” Brian replied indifferently.

 

“But, Brian . . . we haven’t hung out in ages. I was really looking forward to hitting Babylon with you,” Michael tried his best to keep hold of his hero’s attentions.

 

“You can’t just blow us all off, Brian; you drove. How are we supposed to get home if you run off,” Ted asked, less concerned with where Brian went to pick up his next trick than the fact that he’d be stranded without transportation.

 

“You’re big boys. I’m sure you can find your way home without my help,” Brian explained as he pulled his jacket on. And then, with a brusque, “Night, ladies!” he was gone.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~

 

Why was it that the Orgy Room at the Liberty Baths was always packed on Sunday nights? It was probably some reaction to all the usual sanctimonious crap doled out in the churches, mosques and synagogues on Sunday mornings. But, whatever the reason, Brian had found a whole passel of willing men waiting for his attentions when he arrived there that evening. Being the organization freak that he was, Brian immediately took action to sort them out, discarding anything that wasn’t up to his standards, and then line them up so that he could deal with them in order.

 

Strangely enough, nobody seemed to mind this heavy-handed treatment. The guys were actually very accommodating. In fact, it was almost as if they all tacitly agreed that it was not only Brian’s right but his obligation to treat them in such a fashion. And nobody really fussed or complained, they just waited their turn.

 

The proceedings did slightly shock Justin, who’d followed Brian from Woody’s. Watching Brian plowing his way through the innumerable bodies at the baths wasn’t really what Justin wanted to do with his evening, but he couldn’t help himself. The incorporeal spirit felt he was becoming almost as pathetic as Brian himself, the way he was forced into this voyeuristic role. He just couldn’t abandon Brian, though. He couldn’t stop following and watching. Even though the watching served no purpose other than to make Justin himself feel increasingly hopeless. He was so frustrated and forlorn and all he really wanted to do was scream at the unfairness of the world, but all Justin could do was stand and watch while the man he loved wasted himself on these unworthy cretins.

 

Brian didn’t take any notice of the insubstantial specter that was hovering half-hidden in the far corner of the room - he never did anymore. Instead, he continued to look over the night’s offerings. After strolling nonchalantly down the line of hopefuls, Brian stopped in front of one man and snorted, shaking his head disparagingly. “You’re kidding, right? This isn’t Troll Tuesday, buddy. I don’t think so.” Without even commenting, the man, head hanging low, stepped out of line and slunk off towards the private rooms up front. All the onlookers did was chortle a little, but none called Brian out on his rudeness.

 

Sometimes Justin wondered if Brian did that shit on purpose as a kind of dare, hoping that someone WOULD call him on it. Nobody ever did though, so Brian had no incentive to change.

 

Once he had them all sorted by whatever esoteric standards he was employing that night, Brian moved so that he was seated on the tiled bench next to the back wall. With a crook of his index finger, he summoned the first applicant and then used his hand on the man’s shoulder to force the guy to his knees. As this particular supplicant started to lap at Brian’s half-hard dick, the reclining man popped in a tab of Molly, leaned his head back and prepared himself to be serviced by his harem.

 

Brian’s first blow job of the night was merely adequate. The only reason he came was because he hadn’t gotten off since morning and was horny. The guy’s mouth was sloppy and his sucking was weak. Whatever. It was an orgasm and Brian never said no to that. The second and third guy were summoned as a pair. Brian had one working his cock and the other engaged in some chest play. Halfway through he had them switch places. When he got bored with them, he dismissed the duo and had the next two step forward. But those two weren’t any more inspiring than the last set. Brian was even losing his hard on by this point. When did getting your dick sucked become so tedious, he wondered?

 

Realizing that he wasn’t getting anywhere like this, Brian pushed the men away from him and stood up, grabbing hold of a new offering from out of the line of waiting hopefuls. However, right as Brian was about to spin the man around in order to fuck him, the guy’s face came into focus and struck a chord of remembrance. Brian quickly realized that he’d already had this loser a week or two earlier.

 

“Damn it! What the fuck do you think you’re trying to pull,” Brian shoved the trick away from him forcefully enough that the guy stumbled and almost fell. “You know the rules. You all know the rules,” Brian turned and addressed all the waiting masses. “No deposits. NO RETURNS! What part of that is too difficult for you to remember, buddy? I DON’T do repeats. No exceptions! Once I’ve had you, why the hell would I ever want to see or hear from you again? Now get lost you loser.”

 

“Fuck you, Kinney,” the slighted trick growled back, clearly not happy to have been so singled out in front of this crowd.

 

“Not while I’m living. And not even once I’m dead. Not where you’re concerned, at least. Besides, your ass has more miles on it that the runway at Pittsburgh International Airport and your hole is as wide as a plane hanger. You weren’t worth the effort the first time I fucked you. No way am I going to waste my skills on you a second time.” Undaunted by the confrontation and now starting to feel the effects of the E he’d consumed, Brian dismissed the man completely from his mind. “Next!” he hollered to the assembly.

 

And Brian Kinney returned to his meaningless dance with the nameless, faceless partners, fucking them for no other reason than he was bored and had nothing better to do, while Justin watched and wondered how it had come to this.


 

Chapter End Notes:

 

If I've done my job right, you should see the canon Brian that was in place at the start of the series. He's cold, detached, lonely and has little or no empathy. This is Brian before Justin came along. Now that I've broken him, let's see what I can do to rebuild him . . . TAG

 

 

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