Work in Progress

Justin's POV:

As I lay here, gently wrapped up in his arms like a Christmas package after such an intense session of sucking, fucking and making love, my mind wanders over the past few years of my life. How I've grown up or think I've grown. I still do some incredibly immature shit, like that Pink Posse stuff, but I've gotten better. He's grown up too.

He's gently snoring. Oh, I know, Brian Kinney does not do snoring. Well, if the world only knew just what Brian Kinney does do, the world would never know what hit it. Like quietly depositing money into Lindsey's account and setting up a special college fund for Gus, one that Mel doesn't know about. I can't say I blame him, she was never one of his supporters. And paying for part of Vic's funeral. I don't know how he arranged it, just a quiet word with the funeral director, some accounting slip up when Deb got the bill. Not to mention Ted, when it seemed that everyone thought he was a pariah, there was Brian giving him another chance at life. Even Emmett. I know he pitches his name when one of his local clients needs a party to be planned. Me too; does he really think I don't notice that my bank account has a few extra bucks in it after I pen a doodle for him when he discusses a new campaign. We all know about second or third chances at life.

And me. He gave me another chance, just as I gave him one or two. We both gave ourselves and each other another chance.

I'm still a kid but I don't know what that means anymore. I don't think I do what other kids my age do. Oh, I go to college like other kids and I have a part time job like other kids. I hang out with friends like other kids do but where do I hang out? Woody's, the Liberty Diner and Babylon. Not many kids I know hang out there, unless they're like me, that is. And do other kids have friends like mine? An out and proud flaming queen, a quiet conservative, horny accountant, a comic book connoisseur, a college professor, ex-hustler, and another mother who is indescribable. And then there's Daphne, the girl that in an alternate universe would be my girlfriend and probably my wife, eventually. And Brian, now how does one describe Brian. You don't, I guess. You just have to experience him.

But I don't think there are many kids who took a bat to the head, held a gun to their attacker's mouth or get to fuck the legendary Brian Kinney on a semi regular basis.

I still think I was personally responsible for the break up of my parent's marriage, not to hear them say that, but I still think it sometimes. I am responsible for my sister not having a good father figure in her life anymore. She tells me she doesn't care, but it hurts all the same.

And I have the craziest bunch of friends/family that no other kid I know can ever claim to have. So I'm not sure if my life can ever be called normal; I'm not sure what normal is anymore.

Now it's the Rage movie. Now what kid my age can say they have a chance to do that? Nope, my life is far from normal.

Brian's been so good lately, good for Brian Kinney that is. It's not that he's completely given up tricking but he is discrete and I haven't seen any stray unidentifiable underwear lying about. If he is tricking, it ain't here. He's feeling better, putting back the weight he lost although I think he could still use a few more pounds. God forbid.

He's happier than a pig in shit with Kinnetic. He works harder than anyone in his employ but he's happy. Like a king, no more like a dictator, barking out his orders, watching everyone scurry away to do them. I've seen that smirk appear when they all shoo. All except Cynthia that is, got a heart of lion that woman. If he wasn't gay or she a man; not going there.

I guess for once in my life I can say I'm happy too. Not the jumping up and down kind of happy. The kind of happy I learned how to be when I learned how to cope with the roller coaster ride that is my life. As long as Brian's in it some way I can be happy. I have no delusions anymore, I lost them when I realized I'm not like other kids my age. Anything can happen. It already has, many, many times. But he's here and I'm here in his arms, right where I, we belong. It pays to grow up sometimes so you can learn about the important shit and not sweat the little shit.

I guess we're both a work in progress. *yawn*

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Brian's POV:

The little shit's thinking again. All that brain activity woke me up. He's so cute cuddled up in my arms. Shit, Brian Kinney cuddling. How does he do this to me.

Yeah, yeah, we're okay. Better than okay. I think I can get used to this. Used to this blond lump drooling on my chest, snoring in my ear, mumbling how he loves me. Little twat.

I'm not the loving kind, not the white picket fence, 2.8 children, PTA, car pool the kids to scouts kind. I'm Brian fuckin' Kinney. Owner of Kinnetic, best ad man in Pittsburgh and the best fuck in the Pittsburgh. I'm a fuckin' father, for Christ's sake and shit, I'm a fuckin' boyfriend, partner, whatever the fuck I am.

He does this to me, he and all his thinking. I'm surprised there's not steam rising up from his ears. The wheels are turning. God, what this kid's had to go through, put up with. And he survived, better than survived. He's grown, grown up, matured and shit, took me along with him. Forced me to grown up too.

I wanted to stay young and beautiful forever. Now I'm not so young, not so beautiful. Well, to him I'm still beautiful. If he sees my flaws, it doesn't seem to matter. He makes me feel beautiful, it's my flaws, my humanness that attracts me to him. He's made me human, more human than I've ever been or hoped to be.

Growing up Kinney, wasn't. I certainly didn't want to grow and neither did anyone around me. They needed me to stay the asshole. Not Justin, not this beautiful kid, man, in my arms. He's forced me to change, kicking and screaming all the way, but I can't deny it, I've changed, hopefully for the better. For his sake and Gus'. I needed to grow up and grow up right. He'll do that, force me to grow up and do it right this time. If I don't I'll loose this. This babbling man-child in my arms and I can't loose this, can't loose him.

Shit, I sound like a lesbian. I should wake him up and fuck him silly. That'll prove I'm no lesbian. I have no need to prove anything to anyone, just to me and to him. Prove I can be the man he thinks I can be. I sound like a fucking ad for the army. His army, the one he's earned, all the friends he has, that love him.

I can be that man for him. I'm trying. He'd say a work in progress, and yeah that's me. A work in progress, his work. My one man on a mission, to make me the best homosexual man that I can be. For him, I can do it.

Fuck, now he has me thinking. I hate thinking.

Sleep, sleeping's better. We'll sleep a while and start all over again. Our work in progress.

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