A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Action, a queer as folk fanfic

11:00 a.m.

Brian Kinney had given up long ago on his adamant protests that he never got jealous over his partner of now, shit, could he say it?, more than 16 fucking years. (At least if you counted back from the day they had first met so long ago under that lamp post). But maybe that was why he found it so damn hard to believe that Justin, of all people, could possibly be carrying on some type of affair with another man.

After all, they had gotten married five years ago, for fuck's sake. He thought Justin had been happy; he thought he knew his husband so well after all these years that he could tell when he was happy, and if he wasn't, he sure as hell was doing a good job as an actor. You certainly wouldn't know he was unhappy by examining their fucking/lovemaking this past few weeks; it was as exciting, intimate, and insatiable as ever, even though he was going on 45 years old now and Justin had just turned 33. Neither man was a young stud any more, but Brian looked into his mate's eyes and still saw the adoration and passion there every day. At least, until a month ago, he thought that was what he saw. Now he wasn't so sure.

It was about that time that Justin started coming home even later than Brian did; normally, the blond would work on his latest art piece at his nearby studio until dinner time, and then come home just before Brian so he could either fix them something to eat together or order a carryout to be delivered. Both men had come to thoroughly enjoy the time they had alone together each night; while they ate, they could get caught up on what had happened during the day and lighten their load if the day had happened to be a shitty one. Just simply seeing Justin always made Brian feel much better, no matter how terrible the day had been. And Justin was as eager to share with Brian what had happened at his art gallery in town, or describe his current piece to him.

In the last four weeks, however, something had changed. He told Brian vaguely that he was working on a special project, whatever the fuck THAT meant. The only thing Brian knew was that it kept Justin from getting home each night until almost 9:00 or 10:00, well after their special allotted time together. He was also being very secretive about frequent phone calls he had been getting on his cell phone at the loft, deliberately walking away from Brian's presence to talk when someone in particular called and explaining it away by saying it was a "persistent, picky arts patron" that he didn't want to bore Brian with. Yeah, right.

Apart from noticing a little evasiveness radiating from his husband, though, he really didn't notice anything different necessarily in the way Justin treated him. He still made Brian's coffee first thing in the morning and enthusiastically showered with him (and fucked with him, of course, IN the shower – the two always did go hand and hand where they were concerned). And they still made love every night, with Brian receiving Justin's customary snuggling embrace from him afterward, the soft, blond head lying on Brian's chest. But his partner's inexplicably secretive behavior at other times started to feel suspiciously like another, very painful time in their lives when Justin had felt he wasn't getting what he needed from Brian and the brunet made the stupid-ass decision to push Justin toward the cliff known as Mt. Fiddler.

So if Brian were truthful with himself, not only did he miss not having that special time of his own to share with Justin, he absolutely hated the idea that he might be sharing Justin with someone else. Well, he decided, he doesn't share his husband with ANYONE. He was determined to get to the bottom of what was going on. Only he wasn't about to admit to Justin that he was doing exactly that – he wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

So he did what any red-blooded, American male with an inkling of jealousy and a ton of insecurity and possessiveness would do in his situation: today he decided to follow his partner secretively to get to the bottom of what was going on once and for all. After all, that was one of the perks of being your own boss – you could come and go from Kinnetik as you pleased (at least with Ted and Cynthia's help, anyway).

It was certainly easy enough to locate Justin at the moment. He was actually relieved to see that his husband was hard at work in his studio where he normally would be at this time of day. Feeling a little foolish that he was resorting to spying on the man he loved, he nevertheless peered around the corner of Justin's studio like some peeping tom pervert to see his husband standing in front of a work in progress, paint brush in one hand and his other hand resting on his slender hip in deep concentration. It was a warm, spring day, and Justin had opened up a couple of the large, rectangular windows nearby to let in some fresh air. Fortunately, the blond's back was mainly to Brian, so he didn't notice the other man studying him carefully for any signs of subterfuge.

Brian was actually quite happy to see that Justin was alone and doing what he should be doing – working on his art. Maybe he really was reading too much into what had been going on this past few weeks – after all, Justin's attitude toward him hadn't changed. Was he just being paranoid? Smiling, he was about to slink off unnoticed when he heard his partner's cell phone ring. As Justin answered the call, his voice carried outside to the sidewalk within hearing distance of his husband.

"About fucking time! I almost got caught last night! I thought I told you NOT to call me at the loft when he was there! Do you want him to find out what we're up to?

Brian listened with a sinking heart and increasing dread as the conversation continued. "Yeah, I'll be there. At least it will all be out in the open soon. You won't be able to hide it from him after that. Someone's bound to tell him, even if he doesn't see it for himself." Justin actually had the gall to chuckle then. "I still don't understand why we don't just tell him – it's not that big a deal," he continued, as Brian continued to listen, shocked. What the fuck! Not a big deal?!

He heard Justin issue another little laugh as he said in closing, "Yeah, I know, I know. Okay, yeah, you're adorable, too. Yeah, Yeah, I've heard that before….I love you too, you twat! Just remember, you'll owe me BIG TIME for this one, pal. I'll see you later today," Justin concluded, before Brian saw him flip the phone closed and shake his head, apparently amused at what the caller had said.

Brian turned around and sunk to the ground against the brick wall. A mixture of emotions cascaded through him – first devastation, then anger, then resolve. Uh, uh….not THIS time. I'm not letting you go without a fight, Taylor.

He peeked around the corner again to make sure Justin was still working on his latest piece. Satisfied that he was still there, he crept back to the nondescript rental car nearby that he had picked up earlier in the day and got in. Donning the dorky-looking ball cap and sunglasses he had secured earlier at the dollar store, he sat behind the steering wheel, determined to wait there until the younger man left his studio. We'll just get to the bottom of this today, Sunshine, he thought, his jaw steeled. I don't care how long you're in there - one way or another, I WILL get the answers I need.

Finally, at approximately 4:00, he noticed Justin emerging from his studio and turning to lock the door as he exited. Brian watched him intently as he walked purposefully toward the used compact car he had bought a few months ago and got in; after a few seconds, he observed his husband pulling out into traffic. Careful to not fall in right behind him in case somehow he was detected, he waited a couple of car lengths before he, too, emerged into traffic and kept a close eye on the small, maroon car travelling north toward downtown Pittsburgh, which was in the exact opposite direction of their loft. Well, you certainly aren't heading home, are you? Brian wasn't actually surprised, though, because they had maintained this same, odd routine now for the past four weeks. At last, though, he was about to finally discover what had been occupying his husband's time lately; he just wasn't sure he really wanted to know. But he DID know he HAD to find out, for better or worse. Swallowing the bile that had unexpectedly rose in his throat, he doggedly kept his eye on his target, as Justin drove farther and farther away from their home and, he feared, maybe out of his life.

Finally, after 30 minutes, Brian saw the blond turning off the exit that would take them to the outskirts of downtown. He knew there were several chain hotels in this part of town; was that where Justin was meeting a secret lover for his trysts? As he continued to follow the other man, he fully expected him to turn down one the driveways to a Holiday Inn or a Marriott; instead, after a few minutes, he watched as Justin flipped his flasher on and turned right – into the Convention Center and not a hotel.

Puzzled now, Brian wondered why he would be meeting someone there. He had attended events here several times in the past on business and knew the layout intimately; he also knew there were NO hotel rooms inside, only conference rooms. What in the hell was Justin up to? Did the person work here, perhaps? Only one way to find out, Kinney.

He waited for Justin to park and then found a spot several cars away; tired of all the pretense now, he shucked his disguise and threw it down on the passenger seat before he, too, emerged from his rental car and surreptitiously followed the blond into a side entrance of the building and into the large, cavernous center. Fortunately, Justin was still within seeing distance, as he noticed him striding down a long, carpeted hallway toward a set of double doors. From his purposeful gait, he certainly gave the impression that he had been here before, because there was absolutely no hesitation on the blond's part. Brian ducked briefly inside a small alcove and watched as Justin walked up the double doors and swung them open. Unfortunately from his viewpoint, he couldn't really see anything inside, just some tables and chairs.

Once the doors were closed, however, he emerged from his temporary hiding spot and continued down the same hallway toward the doors Justin had entered. It's time for confession, Sunshine. Time to fucking get it out in the open and get it over with. He winced at the word over, as he prayed that would not be the case.

As Brian came closer to the doors, he grew both intrigued and puzzled by what he heard. Because instead of the soothing, soft voices of two lovers meeting in a secret rendezvous, he could hear several muffled voices that sounded boisterous and excited about something. And just beside the outer doors, he could see a small announcement board that read, 22nd Annual Gay & Lesbian Talent Show – Saturday, May 2 – 8:00 p.m., which was precisely three days from now.

Brian frowned. What the fuck? He took a deep breath and was just about to open the doors to finally confront his husband when he heard the distinct sounds of a band beginning to play. Listening intently, he thought he recognized the tune after several beats; it sounded like an Elvis Presley song he had heard a few years ago. This was getting weirder and weirder. Only one way to find out what's going on….

As he pulled open the doors, an amazing scene greeted him. It was definitely a band playing up on a stage at the front of the room – composed of two guitar players, a drummer, a keyboardist, and a vocalist, all but one teenagers. The most amazing part, however, was that he intimately knew both the drummer and the vocalist. Because the beautiful blond who was singing was his incredibly talented husband, and the drummer furiously banging away on a set of drums and cymbals was his 16-year-son, Gus.

His mouth fell open in amusement as he continued to stare at the unbelievable sight in front of him. He was too stunned to move any further as he watched Justin sing the lyrics to the song in an amazingly good voice, and his son confidently keeping time with the beat.

It was apparent that both Justin and Gus were having the time of their lives; Justin was gyrating with the song back and forth on the stage and by the beaming look on Gus' face, he was in heaven. Gus' upper body bobbed up and down when he banged out the rhythm perfectly as Justin continued to sing.

As Justin eventually looked over toward the doors, Brian's cover was instantly blown as he saw his husband motion for the others to stop. "Bri-an," he said, sounding almost exasperated. "What are YOU doing here?!"

Brian smirked. "I might ask you the same question, Sunshine. And corrupting my only child, too," he scolded him, as both Justin and Gus jumped down from the stage and met him halfway down the room.

Justin rolled his eyes. "I think you did a good job of that a long time ago," he clarified as Gus stood nearby, smiling at the familiar interaction. When his two dads got together, the banter always flew furiously back and forth. He had actually missed being around it until his two moms had realized how much they missed their family and friends and had moved back to Pittsburgh a couple of years ago. Now Gus was delighted that he could see both of his fathers on a regular basis.

"Hi, Dad," Gus greeted his father with a handshake. After all, it wouldn't do for him to hug or heaven forbid, kiss the man in front of his friends – he was 16 years old, for fuck's sake. "Like Pops said, what are you doing here in the poor side of town?"

Justin grinned as both loves of his life exchanged almost identical smirks; sometimes it was like looking at a fucking mirror when the two of them were together.

"Actually, Sonny Boy (he curled his lips under to keep from smiling as he saw Gus wince slightly at the endearment), I was trying to find out just what, or should I say whom, was keeping my husband's evenings so occupied this past month?"

"Ah," Justin answered knowingly. "Was your little active imagination going into overdrive, Mr. Kinney?"

Brian briefly considered lying through his teeth, but after so many years around the other man, what was the use? He would see right through the ruse, anyway. Deciding Benjamin Franklin was right and that honesty was the best policy, he bit the bullet and admitted, "You could say that, I guess. So why in the fuck didn't you just TELL me and spare me the agony?"

Justin smiled. "Gus wanted to surprise you the night of the show. You remember Lindsey gave him that drum set for last Christmas?"

Brian chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, I remember. I thought that was the stupidest thing she had ever done," he retorted, as Gus started to protest. "Because I knew they would never get another decent night's sleep after that," he explained, joking. "I thought it was great," he added, grinning.

"Well, Dad, I'll have you know, I've gotten pretty damn good at it," Gus said proudly. "Thanks to Pops here."

Brian frowned. "What the fuck does Justin have to do with it?"

"He was taught how to play the drums when he was younger, and he offered to teach me so I could play with the other guys in their band. They were looking for a new drummer and they offered to let me join them if I could prove I could play. Justin offered to teach me in exchange for the guys participating in the charity talent show Saturday. Only we didn't have a vocalist – that's where HE came in. I didn't know he could sing," Gus said almost in awe. "He's fucking good," he stated, as Justin beamed his trademark smile.

"That makes two of us," Brian growled. "The only times I've heard him sing he sounded like a cat being neutered."

Receiving a mature stuck-out tongue in return from the blond, Brian chuckled as his husband said, "Well, a lot you know, Mr. Kinney. Why don't you just stick around and listen before you dismiss me as a substitute for Roseann Barr the next time she sings the National Anthem?"

Brian laughed as his eyes twinkled. "Okay, you're on, gentlemen," he decided, turning towards one of the nearby circular banquet tables. "Let's get this Gong Show on the road," he said, crossing his hands across his chest and sitting down.

Justin stuck his tongue out once more as he promptly pirouetted and walked back to the stage with Gus laughing at both of them as he followed closely behind.

The two guys took their places as Justin counted off, "One, two, three…" before the familiar, thumping strains of Elvis Presley's song, A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Action began on the keyboard and Gus joined in with a perfectly timed drumbeat. As the first stanza began, Justin started to dance with the beat as he sang:

A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation aint satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me
Satisfy me baby

Baby close your eyes and listen to the music
Drifting through a summer breeze
Its a groovy night and I can show you how to use it
Come along with me and put your mind at ease

Brian had to admit it – Justin was actually GOOD. He was downright impressed, in fact, but he wasn't about to tell HIM that and risk the blond getting a big head. And he was even more amazed by his son. For someone who hadn't so much as picked up a drumstick until a few months ago, he was great. Of course, as his father, he may have been a little partial, but he figured he would find out for sure this Saturday when he talked himself into coming to see both of his guys perform on stage. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead at a function for the Gay & Lesbian Center, but he thought in this case, perhaps he could make an exception.

Just then, he was startled out of his musing when he noticed Justin jumping down from the stage and walking toward him. He noticed with a distinct sense of dread that the blond was aiming right for him as he continued to sing the next lyrics of the song:

Come on baby I'm tired of talking
Grab your coat and let's start walking
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Come on, come on
Don't procrastinate, don't articulate
Boy it's getting late, gettin upset waitin around

Nevertheless, Brian had to laugh as Justin sang the "Come on, come on" part and waggled his finger at him, eyes sparkling mischievously as he continued to walk over to him, gyrating and singing to the music. As he stood close to him, he suddenly leaned down and hooked his finger into Brian's shirt collar as he pulled for him to stand up.

Feebly protesting before letting his husband pull him up, he was mesmerized by the playful look on the blond's face. It had been some time since the two of them had danced, but just like riding a bicycle, they resumed their choreography in perfect synchronization as Brian's arms snaked around Justin's neck and Justin wrapped his arms around the brunet's waist.

"Oh, boy, here we go - horny alert," they heard Gus groan, as the two of them leaned in and rubbed their foreheads together, grinning. Even after all this time, the two of them acted like fucking teenagers sometimes; in fact, MOST of the time, from what Gus could tell. Justin barely managed to finish the last of the lyrics before the pair came together for a passionate kiss:

As the band finished the song with a flourish, Brian and Justin broke apart, beaming. Brian turned toward the stage and clapped, "Bravo, Sonny Boy!" he declared. "Not bad," he added, in characteristic Kinney fashion. Gus knew coming from his dad, that was a supreme compliment and he, too, beamed at his father.

"So are you going to come Saturday night?" he asked his dad, unable to totally keep the hopeful tone of voice from escaping his lips.

Both he and Justin looked at Brian expectantly as they waited for his reply. The brunet had to bite back the reply he REALLY wanted to say to Justin before he answered, "Well, I suppose I can come if only to make sure you do the King justice," he finally declared as he was rewarded by a bright smile from both guys. "But better practice some more…..if I'm being forced to show up Saturday, you guys better fucking be absolutely brilliant," he growled.

"Dad's right," Gus decided, turning to the other guys. "We're NOT coming home without the fucking trophy," he declared confidently. "Justin? Come on," he implored his other dad, hands impatiently on his hips as he waited for the blond to come back to the stage.

"Stardom calls," Justin announced. "Better get back to the band. I'll see you about 10?" he asked Brian.

The brunet nodded. "I'll order Thai and have it ready then. But I'll be glad when we can get back to our normal dinner….and fucking schedule. This business of only fucking once a night has got to stop, Sunshine," he smirked, as he managed to slip in a quick kiss on the pink lips.

"Dad!" Gus protested. "Will you fucking stop and let us get back to business?!"

"Okay," Brian said, rolling his eyes. "Don't ever let it be said that I stood in the way of fame." Waving to his son, he turned to go. "I'll see you later, Sunshine."

"Count on it, you little hunk of burning love."

"Don't even THINK about it, you twat."

A/N: The song quoted above was written by Billy Strange and Mac Davis - no copyright infringement is intended. Hope you enjoyed this little one shot before I get back to the darker stories - this plot bunny appeared suddenly and I had to run with it - LOL!