Pitts Pa.

- 5 -

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Brian

Funny the things that you think you would miss but don't, and then those things that you never even thought of, but do. I miss him lying beside me in my bed, our bed. I bet you didn't think it was that. I bet you thought it was the taste of his cock, the feel of his ass, the smell of his hair, didn't ya? No, something simple, him lying there, usually an arm over me or my arm over him. I miss other things too, but the idea of him there, always there next to me at night, when I wake up in the morning…that I miss. Ok, and the feeling of him encasing my cock, ok, with his mouth or ass...hey, give me a break here.

There are other things, things I got used to without even noticing that it was going on. The shampoo, the soap, the dry cleaning…I had gotten used to things being there for me and now they weren't. Inanimate objects being tied to emotions, this was something new for me. Soap, how did it become so important?

Things started reappearing thanks to Cynthia, who apparently has taken it upon herself to make sure my needs are being met, especially because I seem to be making her life a living hell. When she had taken my suits to some dry cleaner that returned them on metal hangars without any paper on them, I thought I wouldn't just fire her, I thought I would kill her. Luckily she figured out most stuff after awhile and I started to think that things would go back to normal. After all, it had been a month, a whole fucking month without HIM. But I was fine. I was ok. Everything was going to be ok. Once in a while something strange would happen, like Cynthia sending me off to a Mommy and Me class, but Lindsay knew that Gus was a good outlet for some of my stress and so Cynthia lived to see another day after that fuck up.

Claire and her family drama took up a lot of down time. I found myself being drawn over to her apartment to check up on her and her kids more often then not. Usually around dinner time. While Claire wouldn't be up for any cooking awards anytime soon, it was easier going there for dinner when I couldn't tear Mikey away from his hubby for a trip over to Woody's or the diner. Anything to delay returning to the empty loft. There, I said it. The empty loft. I hate going to the empty loft. I used to call the place home but now it is just a closet and a place to change, a glorified locker. Had begun to half consider moving on, into someplace bigger to give Gus his own room and to get rid of all the memories that lurked around every corner.

Claire called and was getting all weepy on the phone. Hadn't had any real mental break downs in the family for a month, so I guess I should have expected it. When I got to her apartment, Tom answered the door looking like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "What?" I demanded, pushing past him, "what did you do now?"

"I didn't do anything Uncle Brian!" Tom whined.

"Don't call me Uncle, you know I hate that. It makes me feel old."

"I didn't do anything, I swear!" Tom shot back nervously, following behind me. Claire was sitting on her couch, staring into space, face all puffy and red.

"What's going on?"

"I did it, I finally did it."

"What?"

"I told Mom I didn't want to see her anymore and I didn't want her around my kids."

"You're kidding, what brought this on?" I was genuinely surprised. Against my better advice Claire had recently begun to involve herself back into Joanie's life, like some sort of therapy, with mom as a victim of domestic violence or some crap like that. What a fucking joke! That woman sat by and let things happen to us that never, ever should have happened. Victim my ass. I have always told Claire, take Mom in small doses, and spread the visits out over long periods of time, so the toxins don't build up.

"I can't take it anymore, the hatred. She hates us Bri, she really hates us!"

"Tell me about it," I said sitting down on the couch next to her. I didn't know what else to say, so I tried patting her back but she shrunk away from my touch. "What happened?"

"Tom, go back into your bedroom, ok please hon?" Claire said looking up at her son who stood cowering in the hallway. She didn't have to ask twice, he was gone in a flash. "On the way over to the church Tom told me she asked if you were molesting him."

"Jesus."

"Well, it got worse. I went and confronted her about it and she started saying how I was leading my children on a path to hell by exposing them to you and your friends, and to that thing, that child! She kept calling her grandson Gus, `that thing', and said that she would have to call my ex and let him know this. So…so he could use it in the divorce to get custody to save her grandchildren…." Claire let the water works go again.

"I told you she isn't going to change and we don't owe her a god-damn thing. "

"Why does this have to be so hard? I can't stand anything about her but it's killing me. Why can't she love me?" Claire said, rocking herself back and forth.

Brian stood back up, towering over his older sister as she cried on the couch. He was at a loss for words. He knew practically from the beginning that the people he was supposed to call mom and dad, the people who were supposed to love and protect him, didn't do either.

"Claire, she doesn't deserve your attention, your love. She never has. Once you realize that, life is going to get better for you."

"That is so fucking cold, Bri. I can't be like you. I'm not strong like you!" she wailed.

"It isn't a matter of being strong, it's a matter of being realistic. She stood by our whole lives and just let those things happen. She witnessed them and she condoned them with her silence, her inaction. You don't owe her a god-damn thing!" I began to lose my patience. My anger was rising and I didn't know who it was being directed at more, whether it was at Claire for being so god damn weak, or for that woman making her feel so terrible. Life wasn't throwing Claire any breaks these days. It seemed just as she was getting stronger something like this would come up and push her twelve steps back.

"Well, I honestly think…" Claire sighed, trying rather unsuccessfully to compose herself, to believe her own words. "That she did it to herself this time. It's over. She threatened you, she threatened my boys, and I can't take it anymore!"

"You know you don't have to worry about me…"

"I shouldn't impose her on the boys, it’s unhealthy. She is so fucked up, Brian. Why haven't I ever seen it so clearly before?"

"You did for a while there, after you got married."

Claire grunted, "That was all about Jack, it really had nothing to do with her."

"Yeah, well" I said standing up and taking off my coat, I had a feeling this was going to be a long night. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…best away from them, worst because you didn't seemly end up in a much better situation."

"I'm going to start dinner, you want some lemonade or a coke?" she said, brushing off my last comment.

"Anything harder?" Claire stopped in her tracks and smirked.

"Apple juice?"

"Whatever." I sighed, leaning back on the couch and closing my eyes. I felt some movement on the couch beside me and opened one eye to a very nervous Tom. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Um, have a good day?" I smirked at him and tried a little male bonding punch to the shoulder. Tom winced. Jesus he was a soft boy.

"Yeah, I really upset Mom."

"Oh no you didn't, you did her a big favor, trust me."

"Unc…Brian, um, is it true, do ya think, that you…um…are going to hell because you're gay?"

"I don't believe in that stuff Thomas, so I am going to have to go with a no on that one. "

"Why does it make Grandma so angry?"

"Um," Oh, there were so many very special `adult' answers to that question…I bit my tongue though, Tom was what, 10, 15? Whatever. "You know, I don't know. Sometimes people are scared of things that they don't understand and so instead of showing they're scared, they act mean."

"Brian, I…um, you know I am fourteen…" he said with all the confidence of a fourteen year old. "I am not a child. Grandma just hates you because you have sex with men, which is none of her business, right?"

"Ok, sure thing Sonny Boy. Yep, that's right," I said, loosening my tie, it was suddenly getting very warm in the apartment for me to be playing Gay 101 with my all grown up fourteen year old nephew.

"I mean," Tom said solemnly, "I mean, it’s ok to have sex with someone who is your own sex. You just have to love them, right?"

"Brian!" Claire yelled from the kitchen.

"Yes, dear!" Ah, a window of opportunity, I am out of here. "I best go see what your mother needs in the kitchen!"

Mel

Yes, it is true, I fucking hate Brian Kinney. Ok, you know that is a lie, a big lie. I almost fucked it all up, my whole entire life, fucked completely up. Brian swooped in - `Rage, here he comes’. And he saved me, saved me and Lindsay. How can you not love a guy like that? Yeah I know, I am the tough dyke mean bitch, ‘Fuck you Bri.’ etc. However, truth be known, I love the mother fucker. Don't tell anyone, please, for the love of god.

I admit it, love the Bri. Yep, full fledged fan club member. I can see what all the others have seen in him; he is the real fucking deal. No apologies, no regrets. He lives life out in the open, full blown, no sensors, he lives for the moment. Ok, so you think I am fickle? Fuck you, you know you love him like I do!

I almost ruined the relationship that I thought would last a lifetime, should last a life time. Lindsay. My beautiful girl, my lover, my friend, my besheret. Fucked around on her as things got tough for the first time in six years. I deserved to be thrown out, and I am so grateful she took me back. You all know that she wouldn't have taken me back except for what the great motherfucking Brian Kinney did. The fucking bastard!

So, I stand on the side lines with Linds, watching him break into a million pieces. I bet he thinks that what he did was best for Justin. I bet he thought, ‘Hey, he is too young for me, he needs to get out and meet others, someone who will bring him flowers, tell him he loves him…’ Well, hello, Brian Kinney, you fucking love the boy, admit it!

Of course, he doesn't admit it. He pushes the only person I have ever seen him love away like he had the plague and mopes around like a love struck teenager. Now it's pay back time. Lindsay has been sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong, conspiring with Justin to get Gus and Brian together more often. And for the first time, I endorse it, I actually find myself encouraging her. My son's name is Gus because of Justin. He might turn out to be a gas station attendant because of that name, but I love Justin. What the fuck is wrong with me. Ok, I admit it, they deserve to be happy. Brian deserves it. Justin is his besheret. OK, there. I feel better.

Brian

I had the dream again. A simple dream. The blue lights are on, shining and illuminating off his creamy white skin, his pink cock is pointed up towards his chest and my face is buried in his balls. He moans my name, the only way I like to hear it moaned. Then I wake up. Fuck me.

One day, one night, I am going to sleep for a few hours without having a dream about Justin.

I rolled over and grabbed the stranger in the bed next to me. "Want to do it again?" asking the obvious question, knowing the answer before it was spoken.

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