Title: "Don't Go."
Fandom: Queer as Folk (QAF)
Characters: Brian Kinney & Justin Taylor
Word Count: 972
Summary: Season 1 episode 21 scene where Brian packs for New York and Justin begs him not to go. (Brian's thoughts)
S1e21 ~ He looks at me as if I have suddenly sprouted another head. Hell, I can't even believe the bullshit that is freely flowing from my mouth, so it's no surprise that he's not buying it either. We both know that I'm lying through my teeth about this and I can see in his eyes that we both know the real reason why. The little twat really does know me better than I thought. Justin's eyes, which are usually a shining bright sapphire blue, suddenly are a very cold and dull grey. A color made worse by the tears now threatening to fall from them. Eyes usually so full of life and joy when he looks at me are now full of disbelief and pain...pain that I am causing. I know now I am in over my head with Justin and so I am scrabbling wildly for the only lifeline I see, which is moving to New York. We have gotten closer than I had intended, way too close. I need to put this distance between us. Shit! When did I start thinking of Justin and I as "us" and "we"? When did it stop being "me" or "Justin"?
I can't pin down exactly when I stopped trying to push him away, even keep him away, but I know at some point I must have. I realise how much I have wanted him, both in my bed and have just plain wanted him near me and that scares the shit out of me. It gives him a power over me I never want anyone to have. The power to hurt me. I know if I stay in the Pitts it will only get worse from here, for both of us, but mostly for Justin. He deserves so much more than I can, no, than I will give him. He needs to be with someone his own age, someone who will give him what I won't. I know he'll choose to leave me eventually because of it, but I make the choice for him to be free now. I choose New York. So, I tell us both the biggest lie of all, "I won't...I won't think of you."
I don't know who I am trying to convince more, myself or Justin. The hesitation in my voice alone when trying to utter the phrase is proof of how false that statement is. I decide to follow that up with another lie. Hell, what's one more? I tell him that once I walk out the door for New York, I never plan on looking back, and I expect him to do the same. Liar, my heart screams. I know without a doubt, that no matter how many miles are put between us or how much time goes by, I will always think of Justin, even though I am sure he won't think of me. Honestly, a part of me is sick at the thought that maybe he really won't. How much I actually care hits me full force as my guts twist when I look at Justin's beautiful face, marred by hurt and heartache. Feelings I am wholly responsible for. I struggle to do what is best for both of us, which is to leave, all the while aching to make his pain go away. I hurt him and I want to make it stop, have to make it stop.
Who am I kidding? I'm doing this only for him? I need to hold him, to feel him close to me, to hold him in my arms while I still can. I can't stand to see him hurt, not by anyone, but especially by me. Which is exactly why I need to go, because I will only continue hurting him. He is better off without me. I've convinced myself that it can only end one way, badly, and that there is no alternative. I start to wonder if maybe what I'm really afra-, no, worried about, is that he will end up hurting me. I try to put the wall back up, but I can't help myself as I reach out to caress his cheek and pull him into my arms to comfort him...and myself. I pull him to me, burying my face in his neck, my cheek against his. My arms wrap around him tighter as I hear and feel him start to cry, my heart aching for him, though I pretend I don't notice. My hand slowly fingers through his hair again and again, his arms tighten around me, almost painfully so, clutching at me like he never wants to let go... because he doesn't. The painful dichotomy of whatever it is that we have is this, what's best for Justin is never good for me, and what's good for me is never good for him. In short, we are always at cross-purposes. As I continue holding him in my arms, my resolve begins to falter. I will have to keep reminding myself that this is for the best...isn't it?