The Great God Kinney Finds his Achilles' Heel

Disclaimer: Don't own them, not mine, characters and song belong to someone else. I mean, of course I don't have them… if I had them, do you think I'd be writing? No, I'd be watching or filming.

A/N: I know I have other stories I need to be working on that you're probably waiting for, but this came to mind and I had to get it down. It was inspired by Jason Mraz's Butterfly (which is in here, so technically it's a song-fic). The time line might be a bit off, when compared to when that song was released, but I had to use that song, so whatever the time line ends up being isn't that important. And reviews make me happy… constructive criticism and suggestions will be taken under consideration.

Extended Summary: Post-series, but also AU after 121. Brian got the job in New York in season 1. He didn't go with Justin to his prom. Justin didn't get bashed, but he certainly was miserable when Brian left. He goes to college and becomes an artist. Brian now owns his own agency, still in New York. Justin has relocated to New York after studying abroad in Italy. Babylon doesn't get blown up, Mel and Linds don't go to Canada. Michael still comes home, opens his comic store and meets Ben. Some of this might not be important, but I know there are those out there who want all the little details answered, whether they are part of the story or not.

Justin Gets an Unexpected Request

"Hello?"

"Justin, just the man I was looking for."

"Well that sounds foreboding, what do you want Mark?"

"Now is that any way to talk to your friend and mentor, who's given you a place to sleep, food from my kitchen, clothes off my back and a shoulder to cry on?"

"Uh huh, and again, I say what do you want?"

"Oh nothing big, just a little favor, one time only, and you'll have fun doing it."

"The last time you said something like that I ended up drunk, high and half naked on the bar at Santorini, followed by waking up in some strangers bed with the worst hangover I've ever had."

"That's beside the point, he was fucking hot, and you had a ball…*laughs* pun intended…*chuckle*…and I couldn't have gotten over that break up without you, you know that."

"Oh, that's not fair playing the comforted, do anything for you friend card."

"Well I got play something, and it sure isn't gonna be Anthony."

"What's Anthony got to do… with…no, no, absolutely not, I told you I wasn't going to do that again. Being a go-go boy is one thing, but stripper? You've seen the men that come in to your club, right?"

"Please, Justin, for me, for everything we've been through, I know you don't like being the center of attention, unless it's your art, but I wouldn't ask unless I had to. You're not only the closest in size to Anthony, but you'll be a perfect fit for his costume. I can just see your perfect little bubble butt in it now."

"Ugh…and I suppose if I do this you'll be forever grateful, and you'll owe me, and be my best friend, yadda yadda."

"Actually, you owe me…"

"What for? After that last time you asked…"

"Justin…a month ago, when you were having one of your bad moments, that time of year… you needed me and no one else was available… a no strings, no promises kind of night… you said you owed me… remember?"

…..

"Justin?"

"Yes… I remember, that was a really bad day, nothing was going right, all I could think about was… okay, Mark, just tell me when and I'll be there. And you're right I do owe you, but I really don't like being out on that big stage."

"Good, because you won't be, that's what I was going to say earlier. Anthony was scheduled to work the Eros room tonight…"

"The… Eros room… really? I'll work the Eros room?"

"I take it that's a better offer."

"Are you kidding? Only the best of the best request that room. Not only is there little to no crowd, but usually, well, you know the kind of clientele that requests that room."

"I know, that's why I called you. You were actually my first choice. Yes, partly because of the last month, but also because I knew you wouldn't have any problem with a small room, and because I know who usually chooses that room."

"Thanks Mark, I mean, not necessarily for asking me to fill in at your club, but certainly for thinking of me enough to know that I don't mind your private rooms."

"You're welcome Justin, you just do what you do best at my gentlemen's club, and I know I'll have very satisfied customers. Just wait till you see the costume Anthony had picked out… you'll look 100 times better in it than he would."

"That sounds a bit more than the standard leather pants, vest and jock strap."

"That's because it is, but I'm not saying anymore, well, I'll give you a clue, but you still have to come tonight *giggle* well, you know what I mean."

"Yes Mark, I'll be there, coming is something entirely different… so what's the costume?"

"Hmm… instead of that, I'll just say that tonight the whole club is having a theme to it, something we do once a year, on this special day to gay men everywhere, well, out and proud gay men, here in New York … it's Drag Queen night."

"Oh god… *grunt* you just had to get me to agree before you mentioned that didn't you?"

"True, I did, but I guarantee you that you will be the hit of my entire establishment, shit, this costume was fucking made for you, I mean Anthony would have looked good, but as soon as I saw it… suffice it to say, you're customers will be so turned on, you could stand and do nothing and they'll get off happily."

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"No, well, yes, but not with this, I'm positive that you will knock their socks off."

*sigh* "Very well, Mark… boy if I didn't owe you and know you as well as I do."

"I wouldn't be asking."

"True, you really are a good friend Mark, I don't know how I would have gotten through the last couple of years without you."

"I know Justin… no need to get sentimental right now… you have some cleaning up to do before coming being here at 7pm."

"Cleaning up, are you suggesting that I'm dirty sir?"

*laugh* "I most certainly am, you're probably knee deep in paint and this is Drag Queen night, not Painter or Construction worker night."

*chuckle* "You might just be right about that, alright, I'll put down the brush and get cleaned up, maybe I'll stop by a little early and eat something before getting ready in whatever get up you seem to think is perfect for me."

"Not seem to, it is… and if you come by before 6pm, dinner is my treat, in my office."

"Well, well, I'll be certain to be there early, wouldn't want to miss one of your esteemed chef's creations."

"I'll make sure she makes something that is right up your alley… see you soon, Justin."

"See you soon Mark."

Both men hung up and hoped for the best this evening. Justin because he doesn't really want to do this, but at least the room he'll be in, Jesus, the Eros room, Mark must be really desperate. Only his best dancers/strippers/entertainers get that room. While Justin is no stranger to dancing or stripping, that was quite a while ago, and he didn't really like being in the center stage of Mark's place. All those old queens and closet fags, oh sure there's always several good-looking guys there to just appreciate the show, maybe a little backroom action with more class and experience than the standard gay club. But the ones at the stage shoving money in your drawers, not the cream of the crop to this beautiful, 25 year old blond who could still pass for a twink, and certainly doesn't need any help in the love, well, trick department.

Love…maybe he was right… him…he hasn't thought about him in…oh who is he kidding, about 5 minutes. Justin had been in a couple relationships since then… they all ended the same… maybe love was bullshit that people said to get laid but all you got was hurt in the end. Course, he didn't think he'd really been in love, more in lust, or in love with the idea of being in love. He had only really loved and been in love with one person, and he left. True they might be in the same city, but it would hurt too much to see him. Well, it might be easier now with so much time in between them, but he certainly hadn't forgotten what the other man looked like.

He had been so devastated, hurt, angry and furious when he left. He thought he would never be the same again. Oh sure, he took Daphne to the prom, not that they stayed long, they danced a little, but that was for Daph, not Justin. Then they left in his mom's car and went home. He went straight to Daphne's, and crashed in bed with her. They had slept side by side many times, thank god it wasn't awkward, it certainly could have been. School was easier after that. Hobbs still gave him a hard time, but at least he got out of there when high school was over. His stupid father had been so happy that he left that he agreed to pay for college, even with the divorce. Fortunately Justin was able to do some research, with Daphne's insistence, that Justin look into all available options and be more than ready when it came to talking to his dad about college.

As it turned out the infamous Dartmouth his father was so insistent he go to, because it was an upstanding and respectable college and didn't waste time and energy on silly kid activities like drawing… Well it was certainly a surprise to Justin to find that they not only had drawing, but you could major in Studio Art, Theater, Film and Media, and they had performing arts curriculum, as well as their own Art Gallery and resident artist. Justin was so thrilled with all this information when talking to his dad about his esteemed alma mater that when Justin showed him all the silly art classes that Dartmouth prided themselves in, his dad was forced to reconsider his opinion about drawing.

So Justin went to Dartmouth, and earned a Bachelor of Arts in Studio Art, and to appease his more business minded father, he earned a minor in Government and Politics, because he knew understanding something about business and politics would come in handy in the art world. Not only do you have to sell your art, you have to sell yourself, but you also have to protect yourself and know what you have the right to and the rights of galleries and collectors.

During his last year, Justin was selected to be part of a group of students to study at the Florence University of the Arts in Italy. Justin was shocked, to say the least, he knew his artwork was great, he was very proud of everything he had done. His artwork was always powerful, whether portraits, nature, people participating in something, or every day activities, Justin's painting always pulled the viewer in. He was known among his peers and professors for his mix of realism and abstract within the same canvas.

Life at Dartmouth was easy enough in his art classes, but it was still a typical school with plenty of jocks and bigotry. He was just very lucky to share one of the few dorm rooms with another gay boy. Not that they had much in common, nor did they really hang out, but in the evening when they would study or work on homework, or just watch TV, it was nice to not be judged or worry about anything.

Fortunately college kids seemed a little more sophisticated than high school kids so he never was bullied or teased like he was at St. James, but that didn't mean that he didn't have his fair share of being called names, or bumped into "accidently" a little harder than an accident. And there was that first night he went on a date with someone. Thank god they weren't bashed or anything, but they were pushed and spit on and told they were going to get AIDS and die. That was the last time he went on a date that far away from campus. Not that he had many dates.

He had one boyfriend in college, and one in Italy. Although maybe the one in Italy wasn't a boyfriend, but a fling. He was Italian student at the FUA while Justin was there. It was definitely lust at first site, and they certainly spent many a day touring the cities of Italy (when they weren't studying) and definitely many a night at a few gay clubs, more than a few nights in backrooms and a whole lot of nights enjoying each other's bodies in every position they could find. Those were some of the best months of Justin's life, so far (well, A.B. as Justin liked calling it – after…him – he doesn't really want to say or think the name, that will make forgetting harder). He was tall, dark and handsome with the perfect physique and bronzed skin and… well, maybe resembled another man in his life that he had missed terribly. Angelo was a beautiful man with a perfect body and magnificent manners (oh shut up, this is important and incredibly romantic) and a stamina that almost matched his own. And his cock…almost as perfect as the most beautiful cock in the world. His ass wasn't half bad either.

So now Justin's back in the good ole US of A… and heading to a strip club, okay, gentlemen's club, Mark was really picky about that. It wasn't your typical strip club, gay club or dance club. It had a restaurant with a full bar (although customers were limited if you were to spend time in a private room), a separate room with three stages for the strippers/dancers, then there was a backroom (but it was higher class than standard, with actual trash cans, bins of condoms, and chairs and couches – in waterproof and stain proof material). Then there were the private rooms, they were upstairs, cost more, and afforded the better paying (and often better looking and mannered) patrons a chance to savor something more than was allowed on the floor. These rooms each had a name and the dancer there performed a number of services, depending on the customer. Not there's anything wrong with anyone's looks, but it seemed the standard man who paid for these private rooms paid for the service, the quality, the stamina, the knowing what you were getting. But they didn't need to pay for it, they could find anyone, but they wanted to use their money for quality rather than quantity.

The Eros room was a simple room, it was like a lap dance, for gay men, and if anything happened between the dancer and customer, it was be consensual, safe and fees to be paid and services agreed to before the dancing started. Although there were times when a patron wanted more services than expected once they saw the dancer, or if there was some connection (which was few and far between – but it had been known to happen once or twice) and something else was wanted. Then the manager would be called using the phone in the room and an arrangement would be made.

Justin was hoping that after dinner, it would be a simple lap dance, maybe a few, he'd be working all night, and you never know how long the customers would stay. He was just happy he could pick the length of time and services rendered. He had no problem dancing and stripping, completely, if requested, but never chose to do anything else at Mark's place. Oh, he tricked, what single gay man doesn't, but there wasn't much thrill or joy. If he had an itch, he would find a scrathing pole *chuckle* or rather he'd "scratch" his pole. Relationships were over rated, and he really didn't know a lot of people in the city.

He had met Mark one night when he had just gotten back from Italy and decided to settle in New York, as he had been approached by a few galleries. He now shared a studio, with a couple other artists, that was owned by one gallery that showed his work. He was just leaving after his shows opening that first evening and met Mark when he bought one of his paintings for his office. They hit it off right away, and up until last month, nothing ever came of their friendship. Although they both knew that was a onetime thing. They were both attractive single men who work well together, but they both had one main thing in common. They both had hearts that belonged to someone else.