I recently discovered Queer as Folk and fell in love with Brian and Justin's story. Although I liked the series finale, I hated not knowing if they stayed together. I needed closure, and it needed to be realistic and in character. So I devised this tale, and I hope it stays true to their story.
For those of you who aren't familiar with Queer as Folk, you can view the entire series on Netflix. Also, you can watch Brian and Justin's story on YouTube, minus the explicit sex scenes.
I owe a debt of gratitude to my beta, Zevgirl, for her tireless work in editing my writing.
This work is my own, but the characters belong to the Cowlip team. I hold no rights to them.
Blowing out a huff of frustration, Justin erased the faint lines for the fourth time. He studied the sketch, rubbing at the scruff lining his jaw. Usually, he shaved first thing in the morning, but he had woken distracted, immediately grabbing his pad. Last night's dream would not let him go, shrouding him in melancholy and reminiscence. Emotions had a way of drowning him if he let them build, and for Justin, letting the energy flow from his hand to paper was better than letting it flow from fist to wall.
All day, he had crouched over the desk, eating only an apple and cereal for fuel. Even with his glasses, his eyes had begun to blur with exhaustion. His gimp hand had improved over the years, but he rarely pushed this hard, and it would not stop shaking. Removing his glasses, he rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. It should not be this hard; he had drawn this figure for years. Maybe time had finally smudged the edges of his memory.
Dark shadows crowded his studio as the sun's last rays disappeared over the building across the street. He stood slowly, turning off the desk lamp. Silken fur wrapped around his ankles, and he smiled down at the blue eyes glowing in the twilight.
"Sorry, girl. Did I forget to feed you today?"
The Siamese stared back, tail twitching. He had adopted Henrietta a year ago after splitting with Adam. The nights were a little less lonely with her warm body sharing the bed.
"Yeah, I did. Let's get you something."
He entered the kitchen, flipping on the lights as he went. After filling the cat's bowl, he stared into the nearly empty refrigerator containing a gallon of milk, a bottle of wine, and a loaf of bread. Shit, I was supposed to get groceries today. The cell phone rang as he slammed the door shut. Recognizing the ringtone, he grabbed it from the counter.
"Hey, Sam, what's up?"
"What are you doing tonight, Justina?"
Justin laughed. He had lived with Samantha when he first came to New York, and they had jokingly placed a gender switch on each other's name.
"Guess I'll be making a late trip to the market. Got too absorbed in doodling and forgot to buy food."
"Again? Maybe you need to move back in with me. You're going to starve on your own." When they had lived together, Justin had cooked while Samantha bought the food. The arrangement suited them both.
"I only just moved here a year ago! I don't have the energy to move again."
"Well, somebody's got to take care of you now that the asshole is gone."
Justin sighed. "Adam wasn't an asshole, Sam. It just didn't work out, okay?"
"But you guys were together for six years! Never mind, I swore I wouldn't bring it up anymore. My apologies, Michelangelo."
"It's okay. I know you're just looking out for me." She had certainly done so when he first arrived in New York, showing him around and introducing him to her friends. He would not have made it without her.
"Well, since you don't have anything to eat anyway, how about meeting me for dinner at Josie's? I've got a surprise for you."
"It's late, Sam. I haven't even showered today."
"So wear PJ's if you want, I don't care. Just come, please. I swear you'll like it."
A distraction could only be helpful at this point, and he was hungry. "All right. In about an hour?"
"Great! See you there!"
He showered quickly before throwing on jeans and a t-shirt. It was warm for April, and Josie's was only a twenty-minute walk. He passed the studio on the way to the front door and stopped to grab the sketch. Carefully, he placed it in a red folder on the corner of his desk. With a scratch behind the ears for Henrietta, he was gone.
Josie's was a casual restaurant that reminded Justin of the Liberty Diner. It was two buildings down from Sam's apartment, which Justin had shared when he first came to New York. They had spent many a meal laughing over burgers and fries, not to mention Josie's deluxe sundae. Years later, they continued to dine together frequently, catching up on each other's lives.
Sam waved from a booth in the back as he entered, but it was her companion that caught Justin's attention. His face split into a wide grin as he threaded his way through the tables to the back of the diner.
"Daph!"
His best friend from Pittsburgh engulfed him in an enthusiastic hug.
"Justin!" She pulled back to take in his appearance. "God, look at you! You still look all of twenty-five, damn it! Although your hair seems to have gotten darker."
"Sam calls it a dirtier blond, which is probably how she envisions my sex lifesupposed to describe my sex life as well." He laughed, slipping into the booth across from Sam and Daphne. "But you seem barely older yourself! You look great, Daphne."
"Thanks." She smiled, running her hand over curly hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. "I'm visiting Sam for the week, and I had to see you too!"
"I would have been pissed if you hadn't." Justin removed his glasses and set them aside on the table. "So how's life in the emergency room?"
"Better now that I'm a senior resident. I get to boss around the first years instead of doing the crap work." ! " Daphne chuckled. "But my life isn't nearly as exciting as yours.! Did you know your comic strip, Maddie, finally reached the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette? You're famous!"
Justin had begun the comic strip, Maddie, five years earlier. It centered on a ten-year-old girl named Maddie, who lived with her two gay fathers. After gaining popularity on the east coast, it was now attracting the attention of major newspapers across the country.
"Well, it's mainly a cash cow to fund my other projects," said Justin. "Gives me the financial stability to work on my other art without living in the streets."
"As if," muttered Sam. "You know you're always welcome back if you need a home."
"Thanks, Sam, but I'm fine in Chelsea. There are lots of galleries within walking distance of my apartment, so it's perfect."
"Better now that Adam is gone, also."
Daphne glanced between them. "What did happen to Adam, Justin, if you don't mind me asking? Sam told me last year that you two broke up quite suddenly."
Justin avoided her piercing gaze, fiddling with his napkin. "It just didn't work out. No special reason, really. We just realized we were very different."
"Ha." Sam glared at him. "You told me you guys were fighting, and he wasn't being very understanding about giving you space."
"We had some disagreements, okay? Enough said."
Fortunately, the waiter appeared to take their order, saving Justin from more questions, but he did not miss Daphne's concerned look. I'm in trouble later.
The food was delicious, as always, and they talked about Sam's current internship in a Wall Street firm. Daphne told gory stories from her time in the E.R. until they begged her to stop before they vomited their meals. Justin relaxed, and enjoyinged the conversation. It had been three years since he last saw Daphne, and he had not realized how much he missed her.
"Want to come see my apartment?" he asked her while they waited for their checks. "I can drive you guys back to Sam's later."
"I got a lot of work to do for work tomorrow, but you kids go ahead," said Sam.
"I would love to see your place!" said Daphne. "Chelsea sounds like such a cool area to live." They bid goodbye to Samantha and headed to Justin's Corolla.
Justin drove them to his townhouse, talking about the pieces he had recently shown at a local gallery. Daphne gazed out her window enraptured, taking in the sights of New York.
"Wow, it's so different from the Pitts. I can't believe you don't get lost here."
"I did at first. Even after eleven years, I still don't know where everything is."
As they entered the apartment, Henrietta pounced on Daphne's feet from the stairs leading up from the foyer.
"Oh, how cute! What's her name?"
"Henrietta. Her head's a bit too big for her tail, so if she gets too pushy, just nudge her aside." Justin chuckled, tossing his keys on the console by the door. "She's got the idea that she's boss of the house."
Daphne followed him upstairs, gushing praise at the sight of the living room, decorated in shades of burgundy and black. The furniture was of modern design with an Oriental feel. "Your place is so much better decorated than mine. I'm so rarely home, I haven't really bought more than the essentials."
"It's a nice neighborhood. Many gay people live here, and everything I need is within walking distance. I only bought the car for my work and visiting friends."
"Where did you live when you were with Adam?"
"A couple streets over. He still lives there, but I've been lucky enough to never run into him." Justin turned away, clearly wanting to end any discussion of his ex-boyfriend. "Want some coffee?"
"Sure." Daphne went to the window and looked outside. "You know I'm going to ask you what really happened, don't you?"
A sigh mixed with the clatter of dishes. "Of course, you are. There's nothing to tell though."
"Uh huh."
Daphne wandered into what was clearly Justin's studio. An unfinished canvas rested on an easel in the corner next to a side table covered with bottles of paint. Corkboards covered the walls, adorned with notes and drawings. An assortment of sketches littered the desk, most of which were rough drafts of his comic strip. She skimmed through them, admiring Justin's minimalist style, as well as his wit and humor. The comic strip had garnered a great deal of attention both within and without the gay community. Same-sex parents were still rare, and Maddie dealt with gay addressed many issues in a subtle but witty fashionpertaining to gay life.
A red folder lay neatly in the upper corner of the desk, and she opened it curiously. It was full of sketches done in pencil, some very rough and some finely detailed. The subject, however, was the same on every page, and it was enough to set Daphne's heart pounding.
Very carefully, she drew the sketches from the folder and began to shuffle slowly through them. Every page was dated at the bottom and in consecutive order with the most recent on top. The last page had been drawn nine years earlier. In some, the person was clothed, and in others, he was nude, but always, he was as beautiful as she remembered.
It was Brian Kinney.
"Coffee's ready."
Daphne whirled around, flushing guiltily with the sketches still in her hand. Justin froze when he saw what she held. Their eyes met in one long look before he hurried forward, snatching the papers, and shoving them back into the folder.
"I'm . . . I'm sorry," Daphne stammered. "I was just admiring your comic strips, and I thought there were more in the folder."
"It's okay," Justin said, although it clearly was not.
He led her back to the living room, handing her a mug before taking a seat on the sofa. She sat next to him, trying to assimilate what she had just seen.
She had been certain Justin was over Brian. As far as she knew, they had not seen each other in ten years. In all that time, Justin had never mentioned him once, and Daphne had politely avoided the subject. She had wondered, of course, but the mere mention of Brian's name was enough to shut Justin down, ending any conversation.
Those sketches were more than a simple reminiscence. The sheer number of them bordered on obsession. Whatever Justin might say about Brian, he clearly had not forgotten brushed aside his memories of his former lover.
"I'm sorry, Justin. I truly didn't mean to pry."
Justin ran the tip of his finger slowly around the rim of his mug, biting his lower lip.
"I've never shown those to anyone," he said softly. "Adam found them, however."
"Is that why he left?"
"Sort of." He sighed and set his coffee down on the coffee table. "There's more, of course."
The ensuing silence was awkward. Long ago, Justin would have poured out his heart without a second thought, but they had not seen each other in a long time, although they kept in touch through email. Would he be offended if she persisted? Daphne took a deep breath and plowed forward.
"Justin, what happened between you and Brian? If you don't want to talk about it, I understand, but the two of you were about to marry, and then you moved to New York. A year later, you told me it was over."
Justin slouched back on the sofa, propping his feet on the table. For a moment, she felt certain he would change the subject, but he swallowed and lifted his face to meet her gaze.
"He pushed me away after I came here. We stayed in touch for a while, but he called less and less, always making excuses for not coming to visit. Finally, he stopped returning my calls altogether." He closed his eyes. "I tried . . . . pleaded with him to call me. God, I was so upset."
He rubbed his eyes, and Daphne reached out to take his hand. "I loved him, Daphne, but it wasn't enough. I thought we could manage our relationship, even long distance, but I was wrong."
"And then you met Adam."
"Yeah." Justin opened his eyes, smiling wistfully. "He was like a breath of fresh air, you know? And completely different from Brian. He believed in the importance of family, in the sanctity of monogamy. He wasn't afraid to show affection or to say I love you. I thought, with him, I had finally found someone I with who I could share my life with. We bought a townhouse together, and we were happy. Truly happy. I didn't forget Brian, but I moved on . . . put him behind me."
Daphne thought of the sketches. "Except when you drew pictures of him."
Justin nodded. "Every now and again, I would have a dream or a memory just hit me out of the blue. The only way to get it out of my mind, get him out of my mind, was to draw. It was like yanking my feelings out by the root and depositing it on the paper, you know? Then it would disappear, and I could move on without thinking of him anymore."
"Did Adam know about him?"
"I told him about my previous boyfriend, of course. It wasn't a secret. I didn't ever show him the sketches though. That was for me and only for me."
Daphne sipped her coffee. "So what did happen with Adam then?"
Justin took in a deep breath, running his hand over his face as if he could wipe away the memories. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, hands dangling. His eyes never left the floor.
"It was at a wedding for one of Adam's friends here in New York. The ceremony was beautiful, and the reception was very fancy. The bride's parents had a lot of money, and they went all out. After the meal, they cut the cake, and then it was time for the bride and groom's first dance. I remember sitting at the table in the back, and I was holding hands with Adam. Then they started playing the song, and Daphne, it was the song."
His gaze lifted to fix on Daphne's, and immediately, she knew which song he meant. There could only ever be one song that significant for Justin.
"Save the Last Dance for Me," she whispered.
"The very same one. Daphne, you know I had no memory of that dance after Chris Hobbs bashed my head, except for later when I remembered Brian calling my name and turning around to see the bat. I had never been able to recover that memory. But Daphne, that night, I remembered."
Daphne recalled how hard she and Brian had tried to help Justin recover his memory of that night, how frustrated Justin had been when they failed. She could not imagine how it must have felt to regain it all at once.
"I was watching the bride and groom dance, but the entire time, I never saw them. I saw Brian smiling at me, and God, he was beautiful. He took off that white scarf, placed it around my neck, and we danced as we never had at Babylon. I remembered every step, every twirl, as if it was happening right there in front of me. The whole time, he was smiling just for me, and it was heaven. Then at the end, he kissed me, and I remember thinking, it can never get any better than this. I thought, let them look, let them see that this gorgeous man is here for me, Justin Taylor."
Daphne remembered it well, the enraptured look on Justin's face as Brian held him in his arms. She had thought it was the most loving thing she had ever seen.
"Then it all shattered. I was back at the wedding, and Adam was kneeling in front of me, shaking my arms. He looked so scared, and I asked him what was wrong. He said, 'Are you kidding me? What happened? You've been in some kind of a weird trance.' He pulled me to my feet and dragged me out of there. People were staring at us, but nobody said anything."
"He wanted to take me to the hospital because he thought I had suffered a seizure. I told him to take us home, and I would explain. He knew the story about my bashing, but only in general details. I told him all of it: about Brian, the dance, and what happened after. He didn't say much, but I thought he understood."
Justin took in a shaky breath and took a sip of coffee. He seemed to notice that Daphne was holding his hand for the first time and gave it a squeeze.
"I'm afraid I went into kind of a funk after that. For a few weeks after the wedding, I wasn't entirely myself. I wanted to be alone a lot, and I spent a lot of time thinking about that night. I admit, I thought about Brian too, but not in a regretful way. I was just replaying memories in my mind of our relationship. It wasn't like I was considering getting back together with him."
"Well, that's understandable," said Daphne. "You tried so hard to remember that dance, and it really bothered you that you couldn't. Suddenly, there it is. Of course, you want some time to comprehend it."
"Adam wasn't so sympathetic. He accused me of wishing I were still with Brian, instead of him. Then one night while I was out, he went through my things. He found that folder, the one with the sketches of Brian. When I got home, he was in a rage . . . said I was pining for my long lost lover, and he'd be damned if he was going to live with someone who loved someone else. I told him how stupid he was being, that it was him I loved. I explained that I was just trying to put my memories in perspective, now that I had recovered all of them. He didn't believe me."
"So he left."
"Yes."
Justin bent over his lap, closing his eyes. Daphne reached out her arm and pulled him close. He tensed at first, and then relaxed, laying his head on her shoulder.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have told that story your first night here. Kind of a downer, isn't it?"
She smiled. "You should hear my pathetic relationship stories. I've been through three boyfriends in ten years and still haven't found my Mr. Right."
He chuckled ruefully. "You sound like Sam."
"Maybe Sam and I should become lesbians and move in together. It would be so much easier."
They both laughed at that, and the subject turned to less depressing things. By the time Justin drove Daphne back to Sam's, his mood had lightened considerably. He offered to take Daphne and Sam to a club in the Meatpacking District the following night, and she enthusiastically agreed. It was only her second time in New York, and she looked forward to experiencing the nightlife. After exchanging a chaste kiss on the cheek, she headed into Sam's apartment building, and Justin drove back home.
He started to head directly to his bedroom but stopped at the doorway to the studio. After staring at his desk for a moment, he finally went in and opened the red folder, pulling out the sketches of Brian. Sitting in the chair, he slowly looked over each drawing, lost in memories of another time; another Justin . . . a Justin who believed in love at first sight, who believed that love was worth fighting for. Had he really given up so easily?
I tried. He didn't want to see me anymore. What more could I have done?
He sighed, placing the papers back in the folder. It made no sense to berate himself over something that ended eleven years ago. He had moved on then, and maybe it was time to really move on, time to stop drawing pictures of a lover who had forgotten him.
He tossed the folder on the desk, and resolutely turned out the light, pulling down the blinds over the window. Heading for bed, he turned his mind to thoughts of tomorrow and spending more time with Daphne. He had not been to a club in a few years and looked forward to dancing again.
Outside, the streetlights cast pools of luminescence across the quiet street. Underneath one lamp, the faint glow of a lighter appeared as a dark figure lit a cigarette. The man wore a long, black coat, and his eyes were fixed on the window that had just gone dark. He stood there for a long time just watching and smoking, a mere shadow among many others. Finally, he dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the sidewalk. Moving down the street, he reached a busy intersection and hailed a taxi.
"Eventi Hotel, please."
It was very late, and he had an important meeting with a new account at 9 A.M. No trip to New York, however, began without a stop in Chelsea. Few things took precedence over business, especially in recent years, but one man had broken through all his rules long ago.
It's only time.
And Brian Kinney did not forget.