No Need for More

Author's Note:  The muse struck, I just typed.

I watch him as he crosses the room, all dark and mysterious, thinking he's God's gift to all fags. I bite my tongue to keep from laughing out loud as he turns to catch his reflection in the mirror above the bar. Sometimes I wonder if he could ever love me as much as he loves himself.

Then I think back to all the times he's proven I'm the most important person in his world. I think about all those nights he spent at the hospital after Chris Hobbs happened. He finally broke down and told me about that one drunken night not too long after I came home from New York.

Thoughts of that night only manage to make my dick feel way too tight in my pants. But then again any thought of Brian does that.

At first I thought he was just joking when he started telling me how he'd just sit outside my room and watch me sleep. That's when he told me about the night he finally came into the room and held me as I screamed through a nightmare. I always thought I'd dreamt that night, but he really was there. He loved me even then; he was just too damn stubborn to admit it.

I almost laugh again as he stops to talk to some admirer, his eyes never leaving mine. It's as if he's searching my expression to find even the tiniest hint of jealousy. I'm so over that. Now if I could only convince him to be that evolved as well.

Which brings me to Ethan. Or as Brian so affectionately called him, the Fiddler. What the fuck was I thinking there? I mean I left Brian. Brian. I. LEFT. BRIAN. KINNEY.

Must've been out of my fucking mind to even think I could start to get over the love I have for this man. Add to that, he just let me go, and the whole thing reeks of soap opera.

I understand now why he let me go, but at the time all I could think was that he never really loved me. How could I have been so blind? He let me go to make my mistake, not because he didn't care, but because he loved me enough to want me to be happy. He wanted me to have things he could never give me.

And I believed that I could find something better. What I've come to realize is that for me there is nothing better than Brian. He completes me.

I know, kinda cheezy stealing a line from Jerry Maguire, given that whole Tom Cruise thing and all, but it's true. I've searched for even the slightest sign that someone else could give me what he does. No one's ever come close.

He slides in next to me at the bar and reaches for my drink, helping himself to a long drink before pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Hey, Sunshine," is all he says. There's no need for anything more. I look up into his hazel eyes and lose myself. I find a deep love shining back at me that fills my soul with giddiness.

I kiss him back and slip my arm around his waist, staking my claim, as if no one in this bar knows he's mine.

Hell, we've been the talk of the town since that night he picked me up outside of Babylon under the damn street light. That's the night I met Gus and became Brian's blond bombshell.

But that's all water under the bridge now. We've been together for twenty years. Twenty years of fights, tears, laughter and the best fucking time of my life. Things sure have changed since that night. It doesn't even seem like we're the same people. And in a way I guess we're not.

Brian grew up, and I learned to lighten up a little. We have a successful business, a nightclub with our own private backroom and a loving, monogamous relationship. Just don't mention it to Brian.

Sitting here with him at the bar, with all the boys dancing and that unmistakable thumpa thumpa, I'm convinced that Heaven couldn't get any better than this.

FINIS

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