The Lamppost

Who would have thought that such an innocuous object like a lamppost could have such bearing on a person's life. I suppose a lamppost was an appropriate place for the rest of my life to begin. I know it's such a cheesy cliché but that lamppost shed some light on my life. He was standing there, so innocent and virginal. Yet there was something so powerful, so strong, so captivating. It was as if the light were coming from him, not from the lamppost above him. I should have realized then that my next course of action would change my life, and his forever. Unfortunately for him, but lucky for me I couldn't think about much else besides getting some sexual release that evening. I often wonder what would have happened if I had gotten a halfway decent blowjob that evening. Justin likes to say that we were destined to meet that night, that things could not have happened any differently. The universe wants us to be together, he says. Well I don't believe in fate and destiny and all that sappy bullshit. I think our meeting was simply a coincidence. Most things in life are just a series of coincidences. I will admit, however, that there was some force that drew me to him that night. Well whatever. It doesn't matter why I saw him there under that lamppost that evening all those years ago. It just matters that I did.

I had to approach him. I was being dragged towards him, or rather he was reeling me in. I know that I always claim to have been the one to have approached him, and it's true, I was. But he was responsible for my approach.

So where does that leave us now? A pair of ridiculously romantic fags? That's what Justin jokes about us being. I suppose there's some truth behind that statement. I'm as romantic now as I'm capable of being. Mind you, this doesn't mean I come home with a bouquet of flowers and write him sonnets or shit like that. I know he doesn't even want that, at least not anymore. The romance I'm talking about is more subtle. A stolen kiss here, a whispered sweet nothing there. It's more than I EVER thought I would be doing. I've come to like it though. I also like people's reactions. Still, though we've been together for quite some time, people's mouths drop when they see me holding hands with Justin or making dinner plans. I guess I will never live down my reputation as the stud of Liberty Ave. And I'm egotistical enough to revel in the fact that people still remember me in my glory days. It used to bother Justin a lot that people couldn't accept the fact that he had "tamed" me, as they like to call it. He always felt like they thought he wasn't good enough for me. Luckily he's learned, at least to a certain extent, not to give a fuck about what other people think about him. That's part of the Kinney wisdom that I have imparted to him over the years. Still, he's not nearly as cold hearted as I am, or as people like to think I am.

Here we are. A couple, in a relationship, lovers, boyfriends, partners for life. All those words that I would have rather cut off my cock than be associated with have finally caught up to me. Might as well hang a sign around my neck that reads "Brian Kinney: caught in his own game". Really that's what happened. Justin played my game better than I did. He could see past my bravado und arrogance into my inner self. He saw the man underneath the façade. Me. Brian Kinney. Cold. Exposed. Naked. He had been able to accomplish what no other human being, Mikey included, had been able to do. He broke me down, wore me out. Forced me to show my vulnerable underbelly. That's what pissed me off the most. That's why I pushed him away so hard at first. I was afraid. Scared to death. This bratty obnoxious kid was able to see me for who I really was. I worked so hard to put up a front, to keep people at a distance. But he broke through all my defenses. He laid siege to my protective wall of indifference. He found his way, through all the barbed wire and landmines, to my heart.

When did I become such an introspective fag? I guess that's something Justin has brought out in me. All of his insistence on communication and talking about our feelings has caused me to really do some reflection. Most of this reflection comes at night, like tonight, after a particularly good love making session. Yes, I finally call it love making instead of fucking. I know that's what it is, what it always has been with him. With him asleep next to me, safe and protected from the outside world the only thing that can harm him is the one thing that could probably kill him. Me. I don't intentionally hurt him but sometimes I'm just an asshole.

He's done his share of hurting too. Those few months he was with Ian were extremely painful for me. Not just because he was gone but because I was too much of a coward to make him stay. He knew what I was about though, from the beginning. I never pretended to be someone I wasn't. I never lied, I never cheated, I never promised him anything I knew I couldn't give. But that's what he wanted, he wanted the promises of eternal devotion, the "I can't live without you" bullshit, he just wanted to hear those 3 little words. The most dangerous words in the world. Words that I just couldn't utter. He would rather hear them from someone who didn't truly mean it than not hear them from me, even though I showed him everyday. I'm always telling him and proving to him that actions speak louder than words. Or at least they're supposed to. I've forgiven him, of course, for leaving me, for wounding me, for making me realize exactly why I had built up all those defenses to begin with. When you let someone in to your inner sanctum, they will ultimately hurt you. The strange thing is that when he was done with his experiment with the fiddler I let him back in. I didn't even really put up a fight. I guess I realized that there is no use trying to keep him out. He belongs in. His place is by my side and in my heart. I realized, after he kissed me in the office that afternoon that it was no use trying to keep him away. He knew his place just as I did.

That kiss sealed it all. Hook, line, and sinker. He had me from then on. Now, even though he snores like nothing I've ever heard before and he's a cover-hog, I know that in my bed is where he belongs. In my bed and in my life. I lean over to run my fingers through his blonde hair. God his hair always feels so soft, so gentle and silky. Christ, do I sound like a fucking lesbian. I bet that's the kind of thing that Lindsay and Melanie say to each other. "Oh your hair smells so nice" "Your skin is so smooth". Next thing you know I'm gonna be eating pussy. Ooh. Justin must be just as disturbed by that thought as I am because he is stirring.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You're still awake? Did I not fuck you hard enough?"

"Shut the hell up you little twerp."

"You know, I'd be perfectly willing to give it another go if that's what you need to fall asleep"

"The only thing that will go anywhere is you when I physically throw you out of this bed."

"Whatever. You're such a drama princess"

See what I have to put up with? He can be so obnoxious sometimes. I thought that he would have gained some maturity as he got older. Guess I was wrong.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that. I know your pensive look." He knows all my looks.

"Alright, if you must know I was thinking about this hot guy I saw today"

For that I got a pinch on my ass. That really fucking hurt. What a jerk I live with. Well, at least he's my jerk.

"Ow! Justin! What makes you think that hot guy isn't you?"

"Oh stop whining. I'll make it feel better. I know what makes your boo boos feel better."

Oooooooh yeah Sunshine. You do know what makes me feel better. What you don't know is that your smile can erase all my pain

Return to Phoenix's