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Am Anfang waren das nur ein paar Oneshots usw. aber als die dann alle zusammenpassten und die Leuts auch recht gut drauf angegangen sind, hab ich beschlossen, da ne Serie draus zu machen!
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Title: Listen to me
Author: MyOnlySunshine
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Episode 5.13, the last scene between them, Justin's POV
Word Count: 504
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic (Thanks a lot!)



Justin's POV

I don’t know if he’s crying, it’s dark and it’s silent. He just holds me, his face between my shoulder and my neck, his fingers buried in my hair. I can feel his breath and his sweat. He’s scared, it was all over his face the entire time and now it’s over. I have to go, I have to leave. Just two hours before my flight goes. Just three hours until I start a new life in New York city.

I was strong, I tried and it worked. Because no matter where I live, no matter where he lives, it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t have to change anything. But right now, with him in my arms, the angst in his eyes fresh in my mind, I get scared, too.

We already failed without being separated and now we would live hundreds of miles away from each other. There was no fast fuck, no sitting together, no dinner or breakfast together.

I’m not afraid for the same reasons as he is. I know he thinks that I won’t come back, that I will move on, forget about him and find someone new, someone better and that he’s going to lose me for good. I’m afraid because he thinks that. I need him to believe in us, too. I can’t do it all alone, not with me living in New York and him living here. I need him to make this work.

"Listen to me,“ I whisper. "I love you. Not for the fucks, I love you just because of who you are. With all your flaws and all your insecurities and because you love me.“

His breath gets harder, I think he’s crying or at least trying to hold his tears back, because he doesn’t believe me. I know he doesn’t. He tries, but he can’t.

I put my hand on his neck to hold him close. "We’ll make this work. But you have to help me. Whenever I call you, answer me. When I say I miss you, tell me that you miss me, too. When I miss you too much and wanna come home for a weekend or a week, be there and when you miss me too much, then come and see me. Don’t cut me out, don’t keep things from me, don’t play it cool, and don’t freak out when I don’t call back the same day or don’t answer your email in a minute. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you and don’t miss you. And whenever you start thinking that we won’t make it, remember this: I love you.“

He still doesn’t believe me, but I know he will try to make it work, he’ll help me. And with him helping me I can do this. I can live in New York. I can be successful. Because I have nothing to lose. He’s here, with me, we’ll make this work. He kisses my neck. I have to go.

"Call me when you’re there, I’ll answer“, he whispers.

Title: Trust me
Author: MyOnlySunshine
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Sequel zu "Listen to me", Brian's Justin's POV
Word Count: 653
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic (Thanks a lot!)



Brian's POV

He did, he called when he arrived. I was still on the bed, naked. It got a little cold, but I didn’t want to move, I just lay there. I knew he would call, he told me he would, and it was too soon to not keep promises or agreements.

He has a lot of trust in us, in me and in himself. I wish I could do that, too. I know he will try to make this work. He will call, he will email me, he will tell me that he misses me and that he loves me. He will show up from time to time, we will fuck and yes, we will be happy. And then he’s going to leave again.

After a while he will stop missing me, that’s the normal way. After a while he will live in New York, he will know the city, he will have new friends. He doesn’t need me, he never did, and that’s okay. It was okay, as long as he was around, so I could make sure that he’s okay, that he had anything he needed.

I did what he wanted me to do, when he called. And I will keep doing it. I promised and I never break a promise, at least not on purpose. He said "I love you“, and I said "You, too“. But I know he knows that, this is all about me believing him.

I got up, I showered and I went to work, I did it every day, he called every evening. He complained every evening. New York was too loud, too full and too dirty – I wondered if he ever walked through Pittsburgh’s streets with open eyes. Well, he’s going to learn to love the city, I know he will. Everybody loves New York.

After a week I started to clean up the loft. At least a little. There was the box with the rings. I left it on the table the entire time and every evening when he called I looked at it. I know I was suppose to return it, but I couldn't – I wouldn’t. I have no idea why I want to keep it. It’s not that I want to get married, well, at least I don't think so. I put the ring on once and somehow I thought it looked sexy. I never associated marriage with sexiness. Maybe I should have.

When I took the box to put it away, he called again and as I promised, I answered. He was totally euphoric, because he got an offer to work at a small but popular art gallery.

"Maybe I can bring up my stuff after a while“, he said. "Maybe I can become the star of the gallery, wouldn’t that be cool?“

He already started to dream big and all I could answer was "Sure, that’s would be absolutely cool.“

New York didn’t suck anymore that evening, it wasn’t to loud anymore, it wasn’t to full anymore. Everything was just cool.

"We're going out to celebrate“, he told me. "Well, not really. It’s Noelle’s birthday, but for me it’s a celebration, too.“

He was happy and I was... not so happy, but happy for him.

"I wish you were here.“

I nodded. I wished that, too. I looked at the rings. He ended the call because his roommate, Daphne’s friend, Noelle, wanted to leave. There was no I miss you and no I love you. I nodded to the phone and closed the box. Then I went to the drawer, to open the empty one, the one where his clothes were suppose to be, the one that seemed to be destined to be empty.

I opened it and saw his underwear and some socks and his favorite shirt and a pair of jeans. On top was a note that said: "Trust me.“

Title: Babylon
Author: MyOnlySunshine
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Post 5.13, POV's
Word Count: 1.643 (Part 1) & 1.993 (Part 2)
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic (Thanks a lot!)



Part 1

Justin's POV

New York was loud, full and dirty – and so cool. But I was careful with saying that. I know Brian, I've loved him for five years, so I know that he applies everything to himself. So when I tell him that New York is cool, he hears: "I love living here, I won’t come back, never.“

It’s complicated. Not only do you have to learn to listen to him, because he doesn't always say what he really means, you also have to learn to say things in a way he won’t misunderstand.

So I told him about my job in the gallery. It was a small gallery and Nadya, the woman who owns the gallery, was very special. She was arrogant, really arrogant, but people respected her; it was fascinating. Every artist she decided to support was kinda popular. They weren’t all painters, some were sculptors and some did really abstract art pieces. But whoever had a show, the press was always there and every artist got his own interview. And that is cool, especially when you want to be popular and when you want to make your money with art. So of course my goal was to get her to give me a chance.

So far I realized that asking her wouldn’t help. So I waited and hoped that one day she would ask me or that I would get a brilliant idea of what I could do.

Until then I worked at the gallery and got some really great inspirations there. But soon I realized that it wasn’t enough to pay for rent and food and clothes and my cell phone and my computer… so I took another job at the coffee shop "Around the corner“. They were very flexible with me being there, so it never was a problem when I had to leave sooner or arrived later. That was a perfect job for everyone, if they would’ve payed better.

Anyway, with two jobs I could pay for living in New York and Noelle and I became friends – sort of.

After almost three months I got a weird feeling, that something might happen, because everything seemed to work out perfectly. Noelle called me paranoid.

I called Brian almost every evening. Once I didn’t, because I fell asleep while watching TV, he called me and I had a really big smile on my face when I woke up with my cell phone ringing and an even brighter smile after we were done with the phone sex.

Phone sex sucks! New York has some really cool clubs – but you know, it’s a real benefit when your boyfriend owns a club, because paying for getting in is expensive and I already mentioned how expensive New York is, didn’t I?

So I only went out on weekends. But as full as New York was, I barely knew anyone except Noelle. And she wasn’t so into gay clubs. People seemed to keep a distance, or maybe it was me. I wasn’t really in the mood to dance or to visit backrooms, but I totally was in the mood to fuck. It was weird.

I got a lot of emails from Brian with so-called news, most of them about Kinnetik, but who cares, he talked to me and I was happy. He seemed relaxed, happy and comfortable and that made me happy and comfortable.

I missed him and I wanted to see him as soon as possible. Listening to his voice wasn’t enough. I could’ve borrowed Noelle’s car to drive home for a weekend, but for some reason I thought running back after just ten weeks would be pathetic. So I decided to get another reason to come back and fortune played my game well.

Brian’s birthday was coming up soon. It was the perfect reason to visit him. The worst thing that could happen was that he wasn’t there, since I planned to surprise him. I decided to take the risk.

Of course I waited for him to surprise me. I wanted to come home and have him there waiting for me, just because he missed me. But I knew this wouldn’t happen, I know Brian. He’s not ready for that, not yet. I had to make the first step. And I would.

So I planned it. I talked to Noelle, I talked to the coffee-shop-people and I talked to Nadya and I was really excited.

And then it happened. I talked to Michael. Most of time we communicated via email for the comic, it was easier that way, because with me working here and there I wasn’t so easy to reach, especially not for a talk about another job. The typical smalltalk like "How are you“ "Fine“ "Thanks“ and such stuff worked perfectly via email. But then he called, because Hunter had caught a computer virus and their computer at home wasn’t working and Ben needed his laptop for school.

We were almost done with the new issue for Rage, when he asked: "So, when do you arrive this weekend? It’s gonna be so cool, much better than it was before, it’s stunning. You’ll love it.“

He was totally euphoric, the way he normally only was when he talked about Rage – or any other comic. I laughed. "What are you talking about?“

"The Reopening, Babylon, remember?“

Remember? It was the first time I heard about it. Fuck!

I closed my eyes briefly and swallowed. I wasn’t paranoid, I was right. We were straight back on our way to distrust. I cleared my throat. "Didn’t Brian tell you that I can’t come? Unfortunately I do have to be here, there’s a show at the gallery I work at and it could be important for me. I wanted to skip, but he wouldn’t let me, you know him.“

Michael sighed. "Yeah, I do. We’ll miss you, he’ll miss you. You should be there.“

"I know.“

"But there are photos on the website. Look at them.“

We hung up and I looked at my phone, as if it would tell me anything. I’ve never changed my plans so fast. Fuck his birthday! I would be at the reopening! I was angry, I was pissed. I was pissed enough to not answer my phone when Brian called that evening. He tried it two more times, but didn’t leave me a message.

I checked all the emails he sent me, to make sure he really never told me about it. Then I checked the website and there it was. The reopening of Babylon. It was all back, all those feelings I thought I left behind. I was disappointed. Reopening Babylon was a big thing, a really big thing and he didn’t tell me. He cut me out – again.

I wasn’t able to make it to the big reopening in time, simply because I had to deal with Nadya and I couldn’t just take off every time I wanted to. I left New York Friday after I closed up the gallery. It was already after 8 pm, so I wouldn’t make it in time. But anyway, it wasn’t my plan to show up at Babylon.

It was 11:30 when my cellphone rang. It was Brian. I had already avoided him for 2 days, so I picked up and tried to play it cool. I learned from the master. "Hey.“

"„You’re still alive, good to know.“

"Sorry, had problems with my cell, it doesn’t work properly. I tried to send you an email, but every time I started I got disconnected. Noelle called the provider to fix the problem.“

Fuck, I’m good.

"Where are you?“ he asked.

"I’m on my way home.“ It wasn’t a lie, was it? And I so knew that he heard: 'New York is home now.' But what the fuck, he deserved it.

"Busy night?“

"You can say so.“ I cleared my throat. "So, where are you?“

"At home, I think I’ll make it an early evening.“

I closed my eyes briefly. He lied to me, why did he lie to me? "Really?“

"Yeah, it was a hard week. We got a new account, a big one. Unfortunately not an easy one.“

"Well, I can call you when I’m home, we could reduce the pressure together.“ I knew I got him, he wouldn’t be at home before 3 or 4 am.

"With an unstable phone connection? Imagine that… no thanks!“ He laughed, he fucking laughed.

"At least think about me while jerking off,“ I said. I was surprised how calmed I was while I was pissed to no end.

"I will“, he said. "Call me when your phone works well again, okay?“

"Sure.“

"Are you okay?“

Okay, maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. He sounded really concerned. I was close to yelling at him what a motherfucking peace of shit he was – again! "Everything’s fine, I’m just tired. Love you.“

"You, too.“

We hung up. "Asshole“, I mumbled.

While I was driving I had a lot of time to think and after I was done with planning what I would say to him, I tried to figure out why he didn’t tell me about Babylon. There must be a reason, there’s always a reason. And most of time it’s a Brian-Kinney-reason, so I had to think complicated.

Was it because of the bombing? Was he worried that it could be too much for me? I sighed and rolled my eyes. That was ridiculous. I wasn’t even injured and Michael was totally euphoric about the reopening. There was no reason to be worried.

When did he decide to reopen the club? The last thing I remembered was that he wanted to sell it. And then I knew it. I slapped against the steering wheel. Of course he didn’t tell me. I shook my head and laughed. Just one hour and I would be there.

Part 2

Justin's POV

I opened the door and turned the alarm off. The light in the kitchen was on, as always. Brian says it keeps burglars away. Well, it’s kinda ironic that the only time he got robbed was during the day. I went straight to the bedroom and pulled off my clothes. I was tired. I would’ve preferred to fall asleep the second I got home, but of course I had to wait for him. I wasn’t there for sleeping.

I got nervous while waiting. Dressed in my pants and my shirt I walked through the loft. Nothing had changed, it looked as always, it looked like home – it was home. It also smelled like home. A mix of smoke, fresh laundry and eau de cologne. I missed the loft, I missed living here.

After a while of just walking around, I remembered the note I left him and went back to the bedroom. I opened the drawer and my clothes were still there, so was the note. Right beside that I saw some keys and the box for our wedding rings. I took it and opened it. The rings were still in it. He didn’t return them. I wasn’t sure if I was touched by that or if I needed to talk to him about it. I decided to be just touched. The rings meant something, no matter if we were using them or not.

I took the keys out, too and looked at them. I had no idea what they were from, there was no sign on it, so I put them back and closed the drawer again. He had read it, I knew it and I was calmed. I guessed the note would be the reason why we were still talking almost every day, but unfortunately it hadn’t been enough to make him trust me completely.

It was 2:59 AM when the door opened. I sat on the bed and waited. My heart beat so loud I could hear it. It had been almost 3 months. Would he look different? Did I look different? What would he say? What would I say?


Brian’s POV

What the fuck? Why was the alarm off? I never forget that. I looked around, everything seemed at it’s place. The light in the kitchen was still on, the rest was dark. I opened a window. The night was warm but windy so why not use the pleasant temperature?

I walked to the bedroom and there he was, sitting on the bed, obviously waiting for me. He looked me straight in the eyes and smiled.

"Hi.“

Fuck! I swallowed and raised my eyebrows. "Hi.“

There it was, the silence. He still looked at me and there was no doubt that he knew where I was and so of course he also knew that he wasn’t there. "What the fuck are you doing here?“

"I told you, I’m on my way home.“

Fuck! What was I suppose to say? What did he expect me to say? Why didn’t he tell me that he was on his way to Pittsburgh? I just stood there and looked at him, unable to move or to talk.

"So, how was it?“

He was totally calm, not angry or disappointed or mad or even sad. He just sat there, looking at me. I cleared my throat and shrugged. "It was okay.“

It was weird, the last days were weird. The opening was a big success, as we expected it to be. The club was full of people and they were proud to be back. So was I. Michael was happy, Emmett was totally crazy and Ted and Blake were such a couple it wasn’t even normal anymore. And in the middle of it all there was me. I tried to relax while dancing, it felt good, it felt like home. But something was weird, something was wrong. Seeing him sitting on the bed in front of me, I knew what it was.

"Fuck!“ I closed my eyes and sighed. "Listen…“

"No!“

Rating: NC-17 (für diesen Part)

Part 2 (Teil 2)

Justin’s POV

The second he saw me, the guilt was all over his face, so I had gained the upper hand.

"You should’ve told me that you’ll be here this weekend“, he said.

"Do you really think this going to be about what I should have told you? Because I doubt that.“

Upper hand or not, the way he stood there - all the pain in his eyes and the guilt over his face and the insecurity in his pose - really hurt me. I looked away and then it hit me.

"Oh my god.“ I rolled over, opened the drawer again and took out the keys. "These are from the house, aren’t they?“

He didn’t say anything. He just stood there and looked at the keys and then at me. I was right.

I stood up, I was standing on the edge of the bed, looking down on him and he seemed so lost. I put my hand on his cheek and made him look up to me. This man is so fucked up, he’s so complicated, he’s so strenuous, he’s so wonderful. "No excuses, no apologies, no regrets. What happened to that?“


Brian’s POV

"You mean other than you?“ His hand was still on my cheek, his other hand on my shoulder and I’m not so sure if I was relieved that he wasn’t really angry, that he didn’t yell at me, but instead was all-comforting. I felt compromised, caught and vulnerable.

"You don’t need to keep the house or the rings to prove anything to me. Selling the loft and the club doesn’t even enter the equation anymore. I don’t see it as a breach of trust, I don’t feel disappointed or betrayed or whatever you might think. And you also shouldn’t feel that way. I told you, I want you to do what makes you happy. If you want to reopen Babylon, if it makes you happy, then it is the right thing to do. You don’t have to keep that from me.“

To do what I wanted to do wasn’t possible. How can you do or get what you want when it’s just not available anymore, because you sent it away. All I wanted was him and all I couldn’t have – at least not the way I wanted to – was him. So of course there were regrets and excuses. I’m still not so much into apologies.

Slowly but steadily I realized that he was here, in Pittsburgh, in my loft, on my bed, right in front of me – at home. He came back, just as he said.

"You don’t have to feel guilty. Stop that.“

"I tried.“ I did. When Michael talked me into the reopening, it felt right. But when I talked to Justin and wanted to tell him about my plans, I stopped myself because I felt guilty. I promised him I would sell the loft and the club, to marry him, to live with him in a manor, to be with him forever and suddenly I was supposed to keep the loft and the club, but to give up the house and the rings and him.

"Didn’t work?“ he asked.

"No.“

He laughed. I missed that. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against his cheek. "I couldn’t sell the house.“

"You really should. It’s big, expensive and as beautiful as it is and as much I will always love you for buying it, we don’t need it.“

"I can’t sell it.“

"Brian…“

"No. Really, I can’t. It’s not mine.“ I looked at him. "When I bought it I put your name on the owner-document. It’s yours. I can’t sell it.“

He raised an eyebrow. "I own a palace?“


Justin’s POV

Fuck! Now I had to sell the house and even though I could, I didn’t want to. I never owned a house or anything else and I never would. Sure, everybody was telling me that one day I would be a successful artist, but I wasn’t so naive to think that any of my paintings would sell for big money – at least not as long as I was alive. I decided to think about that later.

"Okay“, I said and looked back at him. "So, again, how was it?“

He smiled at me and finally put his arms around my waist. He looked beautiful. "It was... great. I wish you could’ve been there.“

Huh, yeah, right... HELLO?! "Me, too.“

He closed his eyes and leaned against me, held me tight and breathed harder, just as if he was trying to inhale me. He’s unbelievable. I had every right to be pissed at him; he fucked up. But I couldn’t be angry, I just wanted to make sure he understands.

"How long are you staying?“

I put my arm around his neck. "Sunday afternoon.“

He kissed me. First it was a soft kiss, almost careful, but it turned into one of our well known hot and passionate kisses. His hands were already under my shirt.

"I forgive you,“ I breathed into his mouth.

"I’ll repay you for it,“ he sighed while he stripped down my pants and continued with his shirt and his jeans.


Brian’s POV

I’ve never felt so alive since he left. Sure, there were tricks, some guys who sucked me off, but it felt different than before. I barely enjoyed it, it was just like something normal to do. It was a vicarious sexual thrill, but not what I really wanted. All I wanted was to kiss Justin and be with him as long as possible. And right now my worst enemy was Sunday afternoon.

Our tongues played with each other and I felt his hard cock against my stomach. I stepped up to the edge of the bed and laid us down.

He smelled and tasted so good, I missed him so much.

Just as I always did when I talked to him, when I jerked off while talking to him and missed him too much to calm down, I promised myself again that I would go straight to New York the next time I felt the urge to see him – to fuck him. I’m not sure if I will do it, but in that moment, with him under me, naked and horny, I promised myself.

He turned us around, sat above me and looked down at me with a satisfied smile. I was so relieved to have him back, I was so horny just because he was with me, I didn’t even argue about giving up control. He reached for the condom and the lube and I just leaned back and let it happen. I let him ride me. He put the condom on me, lowered himself onto me and started to move. He loved to do that and I love when he does it.

This wouldn’t last very long, we both knew it. We were totally on fire. His body was pressed against mine, I was inside him. When he moved my hand to his cock, I was already done. I jerked him off steadily while he was riding me. I don’t know if said anything or just moaned and groaned while pushing into him. My eyes were closed, my mouth was open and when I heard him moaning, he clenched around me and I came. I felt his come over my hand the same second.

He groaned loudly and then he fell forward, his face on my neck, he was breathing hard. "That was fast.“

I sighed loudly. "Fuck. This long distance thing sucks!“

He laughed. "Three months are way too long. I felt like we were fading. I missed you.“

"Yeah. We have to change that.“

He grabbed the duvet and pulled it over us, cuddled himself against my chest and put his hand on my cheek. "Tomorrow, okay?“

"Okay.“ A few minutes later he was asleep and I was staring at the ceiling, holding him. I knew... we both knew that tomorrow wouldn’t change anything.

Title: Find a way
Author: MyOnlySunshine
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Warnings: NC-17 for Part 4; Ethan (NO TRIANGLE OR SUCH STUFF, I just need him to push the storyline)
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Post 5.13, POV's
Word Count: 1.287 (Part 1) & 1.228 (Part 2) & 1.092 (Part 3) & 1.713 (Part 4)
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic (Thanks a lot!)



Part 1

Brian's POV

It wasn’t really a good weekend when Justin was here, it was weird. I think we both expected us to feel comfortable with each other, as if nothing had changed and we both had to deal with the fact that things had changed. We hadn’t seen each other for three months, so yes, we fucked a lot that weekend and that was great, but neither of us had any plan or idea how to change things.

And every 'I miss you’ and 'I love you’ sounded so pathetic. Missing and loving wasn’t the problem. It’s what he said, we know that we love each other. But that doesn’t make it easier.

We hadn’t talked about our relationship. There might had been things to talk over, but on the other hand there wasn’t any way to change anything, so we had to deal with it the way it was. And so we fucked, slept and fucked again. Saturday night we went to Babylon and danced and fucked again. And when he left Sunday afternoon, he just did. He took his stuff, kissed me goodbye and left.

And he called when he arrived in New York.

Of course he told me to never cut him out again, to trust him and to be honest about everything. But sometimes I don’t see the any necessity to tell him everything. He’s in New York, it’s like he’s not a part of any decision I make, he’s not here to talk me out of it, he’s not here to convince me. And it was the same for him. Our lives drifted apart, we drifted apart.

And so far there was nothing we could do to prevent it.

Justin’s POV

We were drifting apart, I could feel it. I think in some way it was a normal development, nothing we couldn’t have dealt with, nothing we couldn’t work out. I’m sure I could find a way to convince him to follow me, but with me living in New York and him living in Pittsburgh, I couldn’t do anything. Brian never was an optimist, he always expects the worst thing to happen and so I decided to just prevent the worst thing to happen, which was easy, since I had absolutely no plan to break up or to never come back or to fall out of love or what the fuck ever he expects to happen.

The thing is, us drifting apart happened subtly. Everything was as always, we talked, we emailed, we had phone sex, we said our lines and then we moved on.

Noelle called me paranoid, again. She called us complicated. Yeah, well, that’s who we are.

Unfortunately it was me who brought up the first fight.

I had to do something, I'd lived in New York for more than three months and had nothing to show. I worked in a gallery and in a coffee-shop and that was it. So I decided to push forward. When we closed the gallery one evening, I talked to Nadya. We had a show coming up in two weeks and I knew there were some free places, so I asked for one.

She laughed at me. It was humiliating, I felt like a stupid little boy. But of course I tried to not show her how much it hurt me, that for her to even think about showing one of my paintings was laughable. In the end she said, I could have one of the corner-places, if I pay for it. The upcoming show was a paid show. The artist had chosen Nadya's Gallery for his show, so he paid her for the preparation.

I asked her if I could probably show one of my painting with the next official gallery-show, which she gave and for which no artist pays. That idea was even more laughable for her. She left me with a "You’re too cute.“

I was...sad and disappointed. I knew she was arrogant and I expected her to say no, but I didn’t expect her to laugh at me. It was just humiliating. If this would’ve happened in Pittsburgh I would’ve never worked for that person, but New York wasn’t Pittsburgh.

I was really close to bursting into tears on my way home. Apparently that was obvious, because Noelle just looked at me at gave me one of her "Pooh-Bear“ and then she hugged me.

I didn’t tell Brian about Nadya, simply because when I told him about her and how arrogant she was, the first thing he said was, that she would never help me to show one of my paintings and that I should look out for other opportunities. He was right. But he doesn’t have to know that.

I called tons of agencies, sent them my art and waited, just to get the same stupid answer for more than twelve times: "Dear Mr. Taylor/Justin, we would love to represent you and your arts […] but we kindly ask for your understanding […] to anticipate…“

So I took my portfolio and decided to just go to the galleries I knew. I hoped that they wouldn’t be as bad as Nadya was.

It was depressing. The first two told me – without even looking at my art – that they weren’t interested in new artist. And the third one was a weird mix between Emmett and Nadya. Queer as Emmett and arrogant as Nadya.

"Hi“, I great him when I entered his Gallery. It was a small gallery and it seemed similar to Nadya's, there weren’t only paintings, he also offered other arts. And he had a show coming up, called "new and upcoming artists“.

"Hi.“ He gave me a short look.

"My name is Justin Taylor, I’m an artist and I read about the show for new and upcoming artist next months and I wanted to ... sign in.“

He laughed, without looking at me. Arrogant or not, not looking at someone while talking to him is just disrespectful. "Sign in? This is not an open performance.“

"Okay, then I want to announce or offer some of my arts for the show. Because I am a new an upcoming artist.“

"Really?“ Now he was looking at me.

I nodded and smiled friendly. "Yeah.“

"Who are you?“

"Justin. Taylor.“

"Who’s your agent?“

"I don’t have one. I’m doing it on my own.“

That obviously wasn’t the right answer. He raised an eyebrow and eyeballed me as if I were an alien. I kept smiling friendly. "Where have you had shows so far? Normally I know all the new and upcoming artists.“

"Well, I haven’t had a show in New York so far, but I had a couple of shows in Pittsburgh.“ Why not ham it up a little bit?

"What Gallery?“

"Some were charity shows at the Gay and Lesbian center. And I had some paintings shown in Sidney Bloom’s Gallery in February this year.“

He nodded. "Did they sell?“

I cleared my throat. This wouldn’t work out for me. "No, but I had a really good review on the Arts Forum Magazine about it.“

"Wonderful!“ He smiled brightly, just as Emmett normally does and then he rolled his eyes. "Bye.“

Fuck! "Please, just one painting, I‘m good. Look at it.“ I offered him my portfolio, but he refused and shook his head.

"I’m sure you are good, just as thousands of others, too“, he said. "But that doesn’t matter. No one will show up to watch your paintings or even buy them, when they don’t know you. And I can’t fill my gallery with shelf warmers okay?“

I sighed and swallowed. "But how am I suppose to become popular, if no one gives me a chance?“

He shrugged. "Find a way.“

New York sucks!

Part 2

Justin's POV

Noelle looked at my portfolio while I told her what had happened.

"You should go find an agent. They’re suppose to work for you,“ she said.

"Not for free.“

"Normally they get payed by the proceed you do with your art.“

"Yeah,“ I sighed. "Unfortunately my references for that are... nonexistent.“

"Did you even try to find an agent?“ She looked at me, reminding me of my mother in that moment.

"Yes I did, I contacted some agencies and sent them some pieces of my work. I got twelve answers that they liked my art and that they would love to represent me.“

She smiled at me and nodded. "That’s great.“

„But I had to anticipate for their expenses. Which would then be racked up with my earnings. But if I don’t sell any art, the money is gone and it would be the same for the next show as long as I don’t sell anything. Did I mention that my references for sales are nonexistent? And did I also mention that I don’t have the money to pay them?“

She shrugged. "You have a rich boyfriend, who I’m sure would love to support you.“

"Yeah, and I have my pride. I always lived on his expenses. He paid for school, he paid for the loft, he paid for the food.“

"You’ve got some money from this Rage comic, right?“

"It’s not enough. I could pay the agency for one or two fucking shows. But if I don’t sell anything and I doubt that someone will pay a couple of thousand dollars for my paintings so far, I’ll end up with nothing.“

"Fine.“ She resigned and gave my portfolio back to me. "So you already figured out what you can’t do. Now start to figure out what you can do. Find a way!“

"Thanks.“

"You’re welcome.“

Everything just felt wrong and pointless. How was I suppose to change anything if no one was willing to give me chance? And their fucking 'Find a way’ wasn’t helpful either. I tried to distract myself from thinking about it too much, because it made me sad and I still felt humiliated. I would’ve loved to just quit everything and leave that fucking city for good. I wanted to be back in my safe place, in Pittsburgh, in the loft, in Brian’s arms.

On the other hand I was angry that I was willing to give up so fast. I needed a plan, I needed to find a way, they were right. I just had no idea so far and hearing 'Find a plan’ from everyone just sucked.

While working at the coffee shop I tried to figure out what to do next. Maybe I should try to sell some of my art on the streets, there are tons of artist out there who do that. But how big is the chance that a gallery owner would see me and would offer me my own show?

"Justin?“

I looked up. "Oh… my god.“

How big is the probability to meat one of your ex-boyfriends in New York City? And how big is that probability when you only have one ex-boyfriend?

"What are you doing here?“ he asked. He still looked the same, dark hairs, soul patch and the cute-boy-smile.

"I’m living here since… a few months.“

"You moved from Pittsburgh to New York to work in another diner slash coffee-shop?“

"Not really, but New York is expensive and the coffee shop helps me to pay for rent,“ I answered. It was weird. I hadn’t seen him since we broke up. At least I hadn’t talk to him since then. He tried to call me a few times after I left him, but then it stopped. I saw him at PIFA a few times, but we never talked or even waved at each other. And since I left school I hadn’t seen him at all.

But for some reason it was nice to see him, to see a known face.

"Expensive is an understatement.“

"What about you?“

"I live here, too. Well, in Queens. I moved here two years ago.“

"And you can afford it?“

He laughed. "I don’t have to take care of it alone, actually.“

"Well, I do – or I want to.“ I sighed. "I try. But the people here seem all so distant and arrogant. It’s like they don’t want you here. They don’t…“

"Listen to you?“

"Yeah, and they don’t…“

"Help you?“

"New York sucks!“

He laughed again and gave me five dollars. "With qualification from PIFA you should find an agent. They love qualifications for some reason.“

I took the money. It was embarrassing, at least for me. "I don’t have one. I left school after… well, I didn’t finish at PIFA.“

"Oh."

"Why did you finish it? And why did you look for an agent, you already had one.“

He sighed and shook his head. "Long story, bad ending. Let’s just say, I learned my lesson. I’m sorry I accepted that contract back then by the way. Wasn’t fair. Actually it was very selfish.“

I gave him the change and frowned. "Wow, so bad?“

"Worse.“

"Sorry to hear that.“ I really was. Yeah, the contract sucked and yeah it wasn’t funny to be called his cousin back than, but it was a great offer with concerts and CD’s and it was what he wanted and he was fucking good with the violin.

"Nah, it’s okay, it’s done. I found a way.“

"Can you give me a lesson?“

He took the money and his coffee and shrugged. "Just find a way.“

I swear to god, the next person who tells me that I had to find a way won’t survive it.

New York sucks!

Distracting myself worked just as long as I had something to do. When I went home to my room, I felt lonely again. I started to hate New York, because New York obviously hated me. It was just 9 PM but I was already in bed, I was tired, I was depressed and I talked to Brian about it. I told him about Nadya.

He laughed when I told him that she laughed at me. Did I miss the joke in it? "I told you she won’t help you.“

Helpful, isn’t he? "So? Does it make you feel better that you were right?“

"Stop being bitchy.“

"I’m not bitchy.“ I was bitchy. I was pissed, depressed, angry, disappointed and sad. I was humiliated. I knew I was good, my paintings were good, but no one in that fucking city cared about it.

"If you need help why don’t you just ask?“

"I won’t take you money. Never! Stop doing that, I’m not a child anymore!“

"You sure? Because right now you’re very childish!“

He made me even more angry than I already was. "Just because I won’t live on your money anymore doesn’t make me childish!“

"Take it as a loan, you can pay me back!“ he offered.

"I already owe you 10,000 dollars for school, it’s enough!“ Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Why couldn’t he understand? "Stop being so patronizing!“

That worked, now he was pissed at me, too. "Then don’t take it!“

"I won’t!“ Like I said, it was me who brought up the first fight.

"Fine.“

"Fine!“ I hung up and slammed my phone beside me. Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!

Part 3

Justin's POV

I sighed. I knew I was wrong, I knew he was right. It was childish to put all my anger on him; it wasn’t his fault. But it was easy to blame him. He told me to go to New York and live as an artist. Why couldn’t he just tell me that I needed to come home because he couldn’t live without me? That would be the best – for both of us. Okay, it would be the easiest way out for me.

I took my phone and pushed redial. He answered the call, but didn’t say anything. I swallowed and blinked the tears away. I didn’t want to cry, just because some arrogant idiots humiliated me. They weren’t worth it and I’m not a crybaby. I just felt lonely. Life sucked, everything sucked and I was alone. I knew that even if he would be here with me in that moment, he couldn’t help me, but at least he would be here. I always felt better when I was with him.

I guess I sounded a little teary when I said. "I miss you. I wish you were here to tell me that everythings’s gonna be okay. Can’t you just come over here by magic?“

"Go to sleep, it will be okay, it always is,“ he answered.

"Don’t hang up.“

"I won’t.“

He didn’t. At least not as long as I was awake, but I fell asleep soon, my cell still on the pillow beside me.

The next thing I remembered was the sound of my door, which jarred a lot. I was still in deep sleep and I hoped and prayed that it wasn’t already morning. I had absolutely no intention to step out in that horrible city again. I blinked, it was still dark, so it was definitely not morning.

Then I heard and felt some mumble beside me and turned around. "What…?“

"Go back to sleep, it’s just me.“

Do you know that feeling? When you have such a wonderful dream and never want to wake up? When everything is perfect and exactly how it’s suppose to be and you feel comfortable and secure and loved and...then you realize you’re not sleeping anymore? And normally that feeling is gone then, but I still felt it. I was speechless. Almost. "What the...?“

I turned on the light, just to remember that a few seconds before I was still in deep sleep and so I moaned while blinking. It was 2:10 AM, five hours since we had talked on the phone and there he was. In my bed, in fucking New York, right beside me, wearing nothing but his pants.

Now I was really speechless, I had no idea what to say. It was Thursday morning, he definitely hadn’t planned to come to New York that night, not in the middle of the week. But there he was. My heart was beating so fast and I could feel this adrenalin-kick in my body. How did he come in? Was Noelle still awake? Did he ring the bell? Why didn’t I hear it? Did he knock? Was even one of those questions important?

I put my hand on his cheek and kissed him, I just pressed my lips on his. He was real. I could taste him and smell him and I felt so much better immediately. I kissed his cheek and buried my face in his neck. I laid half on him and sighed. "Thank you.“

He put his arms around me and held me tight. I wasn’t crying, but maybe I was shaking a little. This was so unreal. I never expected this. But it felt so good, I needed him so much and there he was.

"Thank you“, I whispered again.


Brian’s POV

I still can’t believe I really did this. Normally I don’t do spontaneous things like this. It was Wednesday, I had to work. It’s just not me taking some free time.

When Justin had called that evening, he sounded really disappointed and then he started to bitch at me, then he hung up on me and a few seconds later he called again and sounded even more sad.

I couldn’t do anything on the phone. When I booked the night flight via internet I was fucking nervous and when I arrived at his apartment, which was even worse than his studio in Pittsburgh, I was even more nervous. I knew he didn’t expect me to be there. Fuck, not even I expected me to be there.

I rang the bell twice and knocked twice, but nothing happened. After a while I heard some noises from inside and then a female voice, "Go away, I have a bat and I’ll call the police.“

What a lovely welcome. I knew it had to be Noelle, Justin had told me about her. "I have a bag and a boyfriend sleeping in your apartment. I’m...“

She opened the door and nodded. "Brian.“ She looked exactly like Daphne – in blond. "Justin didn’t tell me you were coming.“

"He doesn’t know.“

She pulled me in and closed the door behind me. They had four fucking locks on it. She nodded to the left door. "That’s his room. Be quiet okay? Walls are thin and I need my sleep.“ She winked at me and left.

I tried to be quiet but this fucking door was so loud, there was no way he wouldn't hear that. On the other hand he hadn't heard the bell or the knocking. I put my bag to the side and took off my shoes, jeans and shirt, before I crawled into his bed. Thank god he didn’t have any shutters on the window, so I could see something.

I took his cell phone from the pillow and I laid down beside him when he turned around. "What…?“

"Go back to sleep, it’s just me“, I said.

He wasn’t really awake, at least not immediately. But then he seemed to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. "What the…?“

He turned on the light and stared at me. He tried to say or do something, but I guess I really caught him off guard with showing up in the middle of the night. I don’t know if he cried, but if he did, he really was in a bad shape. I had barely seen Justin cry since I met him. I just held him. I knew I couldn’t really do anything, I couldn’t make things better. But if I could make him feel better, even for a moment, it was worth it.

Part 4

Justin's POV

I felt Brian's fingers threading through my hair, gentle and calming. I hiccuped twice and and lifted my head to look at him, trying to stop shaking. He smiled at me a little, comforting and soft, and my heart ached with love for this man who was always there for me.

When he kissed me, I closed my eyes and relaxed. I missed his lips so much, I missed our good morning kisses, and our goodnight kisses, and our just-out-of-the-shower kisses, and our home-from-work kisses, and, well, you get the point. I just missed him. I wanted and needed him inside me. I needed to feel him close. I needed him to love me his way, I needed to feel save.

I hold him closer and he kissed me even more gently, rolling us slowly until he laid on my body. He took of my shirt, kissed my neck, my chest, my stomach, soft open-mouthed kisses as he pulled off my sweat pants and briefs. His hands were everywhere.

He moved back up and looked at me, his eyes full of love, stroking the back of his hand against my cheek. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his shoulder as he reached around me towards the rickety nightstand. He opened the drawer and grabbed a condom and some lube and smiled at me for finding it right away. He tought me well. Thank god he did and I didn't have to break the moment to tell him where it was.

I watched him preparing himself and then he slid a lubed finger inside of me. He kissed me deeply, his tongue stroking mine. I groaned, arching off the bed, needing his cock inside me. I pulled him closer and he kissed me again and nuzzled against my cheek, his warm breath ghosting across my ear.

He pushed into me, slowly and tortuously until I was moaning and scrabbling at the sheets and begging him to press fully inside. He moved his hips in a gentle circle, then pulled slowly out before gentle pushing back in. He wasn't fucking me, he was loving me, comforting me. His hands were tender and strong against my body. His lips were at my ear, his voice whispering nonsensically, sweet and sultry and vibrating against my neck.

My cock was pinned between our bodies and each movement rubbed against me. His cock hit my prostate and I cried out, my shout swallowed by his mouth on mine. His hand wrapped around my dick and he began to stroke me in time with his thrusts.

He kissed my neck, my cheek, whatever he could reach. He whispered against my neck, his lips now just below my ear as he kissed me. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I knew they were words of love and comfort. It was still so unreal to have him here, in my bed, inside me, in New York.

And then I came with another swallowed cry, my feet locked tightly on his back as he followed with his own climax. His pressed light kisses against my face, my hair, my neck and I sighed softly.

He pulled out as gently as he could, tying the condom off and tossing it in the direction of the trash can. He lay down beside me, scooting as close as he possibly could until our arms touched and I tossed a leg over his.

"That was good,“ he sighed. „Do you feel better?“

"Way better.“ I did. I knew my problems were still there and still the same, but I felt better. I took his hand in mine and closed my eyes. "Life was so much easier in Pittsburgh.“

He laughed. "I guess the competition wasn’t as strong as it is here. Not to mention your very own fan club lives there.“

"The people were nicer. All the gallery owners here seem to live in a contest to top one another in being the most arrogant person on this planet!“

He squeezed my hand. I opened my eyes and he looked at me. "The art world is arrogant.“

"I’m not arrogant.“

"Not yet. Just wait until you’re successful. Success does make you arrogant, it’s like a drug.“

"Ah“, I smiled at him. "That explains it.“

"It does, right?“ he answered. I leaned forward to kiss him. If it’s justifiable I have no problem with arrogance, like Brian being arrogant when it comes to his job. He’s fucking good, he knows how to do it, he’s better than the rest so yes, he can be arrogant from time to time. But I doubt he ever laughed at someone who asked him for a chance.

"You know, you could have a lot of money.“

I moaned. "Brian, not again. I won’t take your money.“

He rolled his eyes. "Put the fucking house on the market.“

"You bought it, where’s the difference between selling it and taking the money and taking the money from you without selling it?“

"This is so ridiculous“, he sighed and let my hand go to turn around to me. He leaned on his elbow and looked down at me. "If I asked you for help, would you think of me as a failure?“

"You...asking me for help?“ I laughed. "You think that will ever happen?“

"I’m talking about possibilities.“

I bit my lip and turned around, too, to look at him directly. "No, of course I wouldn’t think that. But you would. And the same goes for me. I know that you don’t think of me as a failure if I ask you for help, but I would. And I know that you can understand that.“

He could, so he didn’t say anything, just leaned his forehead against mine.

„You know that showing up here in the middle of the night, just to be there for me because I feel homesick is absolutely romantic, right?“

„Who said I did it for you?“

He so sucks with rejecting romance. I laughed and kissed his lips. „Showing up here in the middle of the night, just because you missed me so much that you couldn’t be without me for even one more night is even more romantic.“

He laughed and leaned against me. „I give up.“

We spent four days together. Of course I had to work, so Brian went through New York alone, he figured he could find some new clients. I knew he would, he’s always successful, while I am...not. I worked at the gallery and tried to ignore any conversation with Nadya. I still felt humiliated. She also didn’t say anything, she was busy with being nasty to other people. But it was so incredible to come home and to have him there waiting for me.

At nights we went out. With him the clubs were wonderful, dancing was wonderful and even the backrooms were great.

He stayed until Sunday evening and I wished he would stay forever. Even though my situation was still the same, it felt different when he was with me, I felt different. I felt like I could do anything with him. He never let me fail.

"Why do I have to stay here?“ I asked him. "Why can’t I just come back? You need me.“

He looked at me and frowned. "What a wonderful excuse for you to give up.“

I smiled at him. "But it wouldn’t be a lie, would it?“

"New York is a great opportunity. Find a way to use it.“

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Find a way, find a way… I hated those words.

"Thanks for coming“, I said while he packed his stuff. I was still in my bed, naked and happy. I would miss the daily fucking.

He leaned down and kissed me. He got this angst in his eyes again, it was always there. He never showed it to me, but I could see it there.

"Call me“, he said.

"I will.“

And then he was gone again and I was still in fucking New York City with fucking nothing to show! I really wanted to go back. I knew this feeling might change when I was successful. And I wanted to be successful, I wanted people to see and love and understand my art. And of course, to buy it. But I didn’t want to live so far away from everything and everyone I loved. New York might be a great opportunity for my career, but not for my life. I had to find a middle way, a compromise. I couldn’t go back just because New York wasn’t nice to me, that would be embarrassing and it would be just wrong. I’m a fighter, I never give up. That’s why I’m the first and only partner/boyfriend/fiance/almost husband Brian Kinney ever had.

And I wanted to prove to myself, to Brian, to Debbie, to Michael, to the gang and even to my fucking father, that I can be successful, that I can live on my own.

I spent the entire night on my computer, working on some new arts and surfing on the internet. I googled Kinnetik, just to look at the pics on the homepage and smiled. Then I googled Babylon and looked at the pics on it, too. I missed home.

And then I googled Ethan Gold and went straight to his personal Website. He really made it to the New York Philharmonics, I was impressed. All his dreams had come true. The website also showed some of his private life, his partner, his studio at home and you could buy his CD’s and some fan stuff on the site. He had more than 1000 visitors per day, which I would call successful for one single person. If one of them bought one fucking CD, he made a lot of money with it.

The Internet...the world wide web. I laughed, clicked the 'Contact' button and wrote: "Hey, it’s Justin, I have a question about your website, please contact me.“ I gave him my cell phone number and waited. And for the first time since I went to New York – except fort he moment when I thought working with Nadya would make me successful – I felt like I was going a step forward.

Mein treuer Fan
Danke, es freut mich, dass es dir gefällt.
(Mir fehlt dein Abschlusskommi bei "In Between" )

Title: ...remember what's missing
Author: MyOnlySunshine
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Warnings: Ethan (...bla bla... nothing happens here)
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: Post 5.13, POV's
Word Count: 2.311
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic (Thanks a lot!)



Justin's POV

It was September. I had lived in New York for 5 months so far and no, I hadn’t started to love the city yet, but I got used to it. I still worked at Nadya's Gallery and at the coffee shop and I still hated phone sex.

After Brian had visited me we hadn’t seen each other in almost two months. Horrible! And our excuse was really lame: We were busy. He really was, he had three new clients, one really big European supermarket chain who was trying to expand in the US, one company who produces and sells items for women's hygiene… you know (I really would’ve loved to be at that meeting, just to see all the not-so-cool guys getting red-faced from talking about tampons & Co.) and one fast food restaurant chain.

And I was busy creating my first very own website. Actually I tried to do but failed horribly. There are many offers for free websites, but they didn’t offer everything I needed. Ethan had called me two days after I sent him my message and gave me the number of the guy who had created his website.

"But it’s getting expensive,“ he said. "Just to warn you.“

"I don’t need as many special things as you have, maybe it’s not so bad then?“ I asked.

"It’s not so much the website, it’s more the advertising. A website doesn’t help you if no one knows you. I mean..."

So I wanted to create a website for people to visit, to become popular, to get some possibilities for art shows, but no one will visit my site without knowing me? "This is a fucking doom loop!"

"I can’t believe you don’t have a website yet. Every good artist should have one, so you’re awfully overdue, but you have to do advertising. You can do it by yourself, at least a little. The internet is worldwide, so don’t focus on New York. I’m sure some galleries outside of the city will love to help you. With fliers or a poster or something."

"Ever thought about changing into the agent business?"

He laughed and that was it. I contacted that guy, Evan Porters, and he gave me an offer. He was expensive, at least for someone who doesn’t have that much money. But he was really nice and very helpful. After I talked to him for two hours I realized two things: That he wasn’t gay and I was far away from being an internet-star.

Anyway, I decided to give it a chance. I had nothing to lose.

Evan emailed me almost daily to ask me about my references and art, which made me realize that I had none of it. I mean, sure I had art, but references? Who? My boyfriend? My mother? The mother of my boyfriend's son? The cunt who wrote that one single article about my art? I really was a nobody... I might have had a chance to become someone in Pittsburgh, but in New York I was a fucking nobody. And New York knew that.

"Christmas is coming up, this is a good thing for you," Evan said. "I’ll concentrate on the shop for your art. You should try to do some advertising, make your site popular. Oh, and...get a copyright, otherwise you will find your stuff on Ebay sooner or later."

I remembered telling my father once, that I wouldn’t become a business-man, yeah...there I was, looking for copyright and how to get it. I started to try the advertising and contacted galleries out of New York. I asked about posters and fliers to let people know that I was living on this planet and that I had some stuff to sell. One of those gallery owners told me about online shows. And so I was busy with writing emails, searching all the stuff Evan gave me, looking out for online art shows, working at the gallery, working at the coffee shop, jerking myself off while listening to Brian doing the same, sleeping and eating.

So, even without getting anywhere for the foreseeable future I was so busy that I hadn’t had any time to even plan one fucking weekend in Pittsburgh.


Brian's POV

I worked like a dog to prevent thinking about anything. I spent every day, even almost every weekend at my company and the nights at Babylon. Sometimes I got a blowjob and sometimes I didn’t. Most of time I felt even worse after I got one. Before I went to the club I went home to change clothes and every evening I got a call from Justin and had a phone sex adventure that sucked even more than the worst blowjob.

I hated it that even the phone sex gave me a better orgasm than every guy in that fucking backroom was able to, and that phone sex was the only kind of connection I still had to the man I once wanted to marry.

He barely talked to me. Not because we had any problems or were fighting, simply because he was busy and he didn’t want to tell me what he was busy with. He just called it a little project and told me that it might help him to find his way. He said that he will tell me more about it when it’s done. That was almost two months ago, until now he hadn’t told me anything.

I had no problems with him being busy – I had a problem with him not telling me anything about it. What was I suppose to think? Definitely the wrong theories crossed my mind, but there was nothing I could do about it. Every time I asked him if there was something new he said "Just busy with the same stuff, nothing new."

I went to Canada four times. Not enough. And I had known what would happen when I gave them my okay for moving. They moved...they moved away, they moved on, Gus got new friends and with me not being around very often he sure was happy to see me, but didn’t seem to miss me when I was gone, even though Lindsay tried to make me believe he did. He’s fucking five years old, what’s he supposed to think? He’s too busy to miss me and too young to already miss Pittsburgh.

I tried, I really tried to avoid that feeling of helplessness. After that few days I spent in New York, Justin never called and bitched at me or sounded so needy again. He found a way to deal with it – alone. Unfortunately I didn’t. I never did. I tried and as long as I wasn’t alone it worked. But every night I somehow waited for an "I miss you, can’t you just come over here"-call. It never came.

I told him about my new clients and that I was busy – which was true, but I could have easily taken one free weekend. Actually, I would’ve loved to. I told him, I said "Of course as the owner, I could take off whenever I want to." He didn’t seem to care, he didn’t say anything. The only thing he kept telling me was "Phone sex sucks." But he never showed up, not even for a weekend.

[...]

Justin's POV

I really enjoyed being busy, even though I hadn’t sold one little piece so far. My own website was online and my very own shop with all copyrights, disclaimers and what the fuck ever you need to have when you start to run something like an online-business, was online, too. It looked beautiful, at least for me, a person who had no idea about that stuff.

I talked to hundreds of galleries and I chatted with some artists all around the world who helped me to find other websites and then I started all over again. Some galleries agreed to help me and I sent them some fliers and posters.

So far I had 100 visitors per day, which made me proud. And some left comments on my guestbook and told me how much they liked my art. That was nice to read after all those months, but it would’ve been more helpful if one of them would buy anything.

Evan was totally flabbergasted when I told him that I was the one who drew "Rage."

"You fucker, why didn’t you tell me that? We could’ve build that in."

"But it’s not mine, at least not only mine. I have to ask my partner." Who was I fooling, Michael would support it immediately. "Fuck that, yes, we should build it in. Maybe we can do some merchandise for 'Rage,' too?"

"Maybe you should expand your target group, Mister.“

And so, new work was coming up. I talked to Michael about it, actually, I asked him if it’s okay for him to do some merchandise for Rage, that we could get some money out of it. I didn’t tell him about my website. He agreed and Evan started to work on it, and I started to contact some more people, websites and and...and...

I finally found a way. I had no idea if it was the right way, but it was better than wallowing in self-pity and badmouthing New York, even though the fucking city hadn’t done anything good for me so far. Running a website is possible from everywhere.

I realized how busy I really was one night when I was sitting in the kitchen and drinking some hot chocolate. Noelle came in: "I’m really happy for you. You seem to be over him, that’s great."

"What?"

"Brian."

She’s a girl...she confused me. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I asked again. "What?“

"You two broke up, right?“

This was a really confusing conversation, especially since I had a really vivid memory about the phone sex orgasm Brian had given me a few hours ago. "What?“

"You didn’t?" she asked.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well, he never showed up again, you never went to Pittsburgh again, you barely call him and you’re working almost 24/7. Normally that’s the master plan for lovesickness, you know...to forget.“

While listening to her I could see it right in front of me and I started to think about it, every call, every word Brian said to me. I closed my eyes and sighed out loud. If Noelle already thought that we weren’t together anymore, then Brian... "Fuck!"


Brian's POV

It was September, the summer was over, it was getting colder and the nights were already getting longer again. Today Ted told me that he and Blake had bought a house and planned to move together. And that they wanted to celebrate their new home and he expected me to come.

Moments like that really sucked. Not that I wasn’t happy for him, but every time someone's relationship developed into something new, I realized again that I stood still. And I still had no idea how to change it and what to change.

I stared at the ceiling waiting for hell to open up under me and to eat me alive. I knew I had to do something, to change something, I wanted to feel alive again, I was tired of feeling like I was dying slowly but steadily, while everyone around me enjoyed their lives.

I startled when my cellphone rang, and looked at the ID. Justin. It was months ago since he had called me in the middle of the night. Actually, the last time he did was the night I went to New York. And when we talked a few hours ago, he was as busy as ever. "Hey."

"Hey," he answered. "Did I wake you up?"

„No."

"Good."


Justin's POV

I was pissed at myself. I knew Brian, how could I not listen to him or better, how could I not figure everything out?

"So, what’s wrong?" he asked, and it was all in his voice. He was expecting the worst, probably he expected exactly what Noelle was assuming had already happened.

"I love you," I said. "I just wanted to tell you."

He didn’t say anything. I didn’t expect him to say anything. I knew he wasn’t expecting me to call just to tell him that either.

"I know I neglected you lately. I hope you haven’t been looking out for a new boyfriend already."

He cleared his throat. "I wanted to start tomorrow."

"Wow, lucky me, just in time." Laying in bed and not being busy getting back to the computer, but concentrating on him, it was all back. "I miss you. Nights are getting longer again.“

"Yeah." Silence. "I miss you, too."

"I know." It was weird.

"Ted and Blake bought a house, they're having a party next weekend."

"Yeah, I know, they sent me an email. I mean, really, I’m happy for them, they deserve all the best, but what the fuck is that 'the happy lovers’ signature about?"

He laughed, he seemed to relax, at least a little. But it was hard to tell over the phone. I needed to see him, to make sure.

"I’m sure it was Emmett’s idea", he said.

"Yeah, it’s screaming his name."

"Yeah..." Silence again, it was so weird. "Well, I guess you’re too busy to come over for the party?“

"Do you think you can book me a flight for Friday evening and Sunday night on your bonus miles?"

I’m so smart, such a genius. Not only did I tell him that I would be there for the whole weekend, I also let him help me to come there, without discussion. Okay, fine, I’m a selfish little prick. Ten hours in the car isn’t fun and he barely uses his bonus miles. But it made him happy.

"I’ll email you the details," he answered.

"Okay.“

"See you next weekend.“

"Talk to you tomorrow evening for our daily orgasm.“

Danke

Also ich hab schon einige Post 513 Fics gelesen und bei 99% ist es so, dass Justin entweder sofort super erfolgreich wird, was ich total unrealistisch finde, auch wenn ichs ihm natürlich gönne oder das Justin nicht voran kommt und sofort aufgibt und zurück nach Pittsburgh geht, was ich ebenso bedeppert finde.

Und so dachte ich mir... schreib ich doch mal was, was irgendwie bisschen mehr der realen Möglichkeiten entspricht

New York wartet nicht auf Justin Taylor und Justin Taylor ist keiner, der nach dem ersten Abpfiff alles hinschmeißt - sonst wäre er ja bei Kinney nie übern ONS hinaus gekommen.

Danke schööön
Also funzt das mit dem Übersetzer?
Ich hab ja immer so meine Bedenken dabei, weil jedesmal wenn ich z.B. bei google nen Liedtext reinhaue zum Übersetzen, zieht mir die Fußnägel ausm Nagelbett, was da für'n UNsinn rauskommt... *LOOL*

Nein, einen Komplettübersetzer kenn ich leider auch nicht.
Ich nehm für sowas auch immer google, nur um dann zu erkennen, dass ich das ohne besser hinkriege

Also wie gesagt, "In Between" ist nicht so lange, würd ich dir übersetzen...