Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and all its characters belong to CowLip, I'm merely borrowing them.
A duck called Hugo
Brian slid the loft door open. Justin was outside, looking rather tired and disheveled, but very happy.
"Hi! I came for a surprise visit. Surprised?"
Brian waited for a second before answering. He had to make sure this wasn't a hallucination brought on by exhaustion, or just an irrefutable proof that he was, after all, crazy. The hallucination didn't fade. Just smiled brilliantly. Ok, so it was Justin. Brian moved so Justin could step inside. And eventually remembered he was supposed to answer.
"Um… yeah."
"So, what were you doing?" Justin asked curiously. "You took a while answering the door…"
"Nothing…" Brian answered, looking briefly towards the bedroom. "You could have used your key, you know?"
"Well, sure, but it wouldn't have been quite as… surprising."
Brian just snorted. And looked quickly towards the bedroom again.
Justin narrowed his eyes.
"Are you busy with someone else?"
"No! I…"
"It's… it's ok, I… I shouldn't have showed up like this… I'll go." Justin said, pain clear in his voice. Shit, he was an idiot. He should have known better… but he just missed Brian so fucking much.
And just as Brian was about to say something, a strange squeaking sound came from the bedroom.
Squeak… squeak…
"What the fuck is that?"
"That's… um… Hugo."
"Who?!"
By this time, Justin was moving quickly towards the bedroom and up the three steps. Was Brian into squeaking tricks now? Was this the new kink? Justin wasn't sure he could… squeak.
He went inside and noticed that much of the floor seemed to be covered in newspapers… and plastic…
Things were worse than he imagined. He knew Brian would take his leaving to New York hard, but this was too much!
Squeak
Justin turned quickly towards the source of the noise and faced… a duck.
A duck?!
"Brian… what the fuck is a duck doing here?!" he asked, utterly bewildered, at the man who was now leaning in the doorway.
"That's Hugo." Brian shrugged, as if it explained everything.
The duck heard Brian's voice, squeaked happily and pattered towards where the man was standing.
"Ok… you better start at the beginning."
o
Three weeks earlier…
"Hi, Brian! How are you, sweetie?" Emmett gushed, kissing Brian on the cheek.
Brian didn't answer right away, just looked at Emmet suspiciously.
"Ok, out with it Honeycutt, what do you want?"
"Must I want something to come visit my favorite stud? Brian, you wound me!" answered Emmett, clutching his chest dramatically.
Brian just stared at him.
"Ok, ok… I do… need a favor"
A raised eyebrow was the response.
"You see… I'm going away for a little while…"
"And this is my problem because?"
Emmett frowned slightly, trying to explain the situation from the most reasonable point of view. He glanced briefly at the cardboard box beside him, outside of Brian's line of vision, and decided there really was no way to explain this reasonably, so he should just go ahead.
"Well… you know I'm always trying to be innovative in my catering business… give the extra touch, go the extra mile… It's the only way to stay on top…"
"And what would you know about staying on top?" Emmet glared at him."Get to the point, Honeycutt."
"Right. Well, I was talking with this friend you see… and he mentioned how 'free-range' animals were totally in fashion lately…"
"Yes… apparently assurance the meat on your plate lived like little Mary from the prairie eliminates any grief over eating it. I still don't get why this has anything to you being here."
"I'm getting there! Anyway, this 'free range' gave me the idea to experiment a bit. If people are so concerned with where 'the meat on their plate', as you put it, was before… then what greater guarantee than assuring them it was with me!"
"What?"
"Yes! That way, I can control what they eat, where they sleep… I can make sure they're happy…"
"You know these animals will eventually be eaten, right?"
"Well, yes… but there's no need for them to be sad about it… they can live happily until it's time."
"Emmett… you seriously have to stop hanging out with… whoever the hell you hang out with. Anyway, you still haven't gotten to the point."
"Um… well, you see… I decided to start small, just to see if my idea could work. But… well, this little vacation sprung up, and I can't give him back, and I can't take him with me!"
"And why the fuck did you think I'd be the person to help you?"
"'Cause Teddy and Blake are away, to that retreat thing… and Michael and Ben are visiting Hunter… and frankly, I'm a bit afraid of what seeing Debbie and Carl will do to the poor thing…"
"So why the fuck don't you just cancel your little holiday?"
"Because…" Emmett looked conspiratorially around, and leaned towards Brian. "Drewsie invited me!" he attempted to whisper.
Brian said nothing.
"Please, Brian! Please!!! It could mean so much! Maybe he's ready to settle down!" Emmett looked down, disheartened. "And I really need a decent fuck."
Brian snorted. Oh… how he was going to regret this.
"Fine."
"I'll do anything, I swear I… wait, what?"
"I said… fine."
"Oh! Thank you!" He launched himself at Brian.
"Let go of me before I change my mind." Brian sighed deeply. "So what critter am I supposed to take care of?"
Emmett presented the cardboard box to Brian.
"A fucking duck! Emmett!"
"It's a tiny duckling! And he's so cute! And yellow… come on, you like yellow!"
Brian just glared at him. "Just… leave before I change my mind."
"Ok! Oh, before I go, here's his food…" he handed Brian a huge bag of feed. "And… thanks so much, Brian!" he hugged him quickly and nearly ran out of the loft.
Squeak… squeak… squeak
The little duck was looking up at Brian. He was bright yellow, tiny, his little black eyes were shining… totally cute.
"What the fuck did I just get myself into?" Brian asked him.
squeak!
o
"Hello?"
"Emmett! The fucking duck won't stop following me! And if I put him inside the box, he won't shut up!"
"Well, honey, he probably thinks you're his mother…"
"He what?!"
"You've spent more time with him than me, and you feed him, he sees you all the time… he thinks you're his mom."
…
"Brian? You still there?"
"You owe me so fucking much, Honeycutt."
Emmett heard the dial tone and chuckled.
o
"Shit!... no, I didn't say that so you'd poo again, you idiot duck! I said it 'cause I just stepped on it!"
Squeak… squeak…
"We really have to lay down some ground rules. You are only allowed to shit ON the newspapers. Not anywhere else."
…
…
"Oh, fine. I'll just put newspapers everywhere… But don't even think of coming anywhere near my closet."
o
Brian was sitting in front of the computer, attempting to come up with something brilliant for the new campaign.
"Ok. Be brilliant. Now."
He waited. Nothing came.
"Oh, fuck it, then. I'll just get high."
He stood up to roll himself a joint, the soft pitter-patter of duck feet shadowing his movements. He sat down on the couch.
He lit up and took a deep drag.
The little duck started squeaking.
Brian looked speculatively down at him, moved to grab a newspaper and covered the couch with it. He scooped the duck from the floor and set him next to him.
He took another drag.
squeak… squeak…
"You know what's weird, duck? I thought ducks were supposed to quack… but you squeak…"
squeak
Brian chuckled, and looked at the little duck beside him.
"I should really call you something other than duck. Duck is just not a cool name… it's so… common."
squeak
"Glad you agree. Hmm… how about…" Brian looked around the loft for inspiration. He noticed the jacket he'd bought recently hanging from a chair. He squinted his eyes to make out the label. "Hugo!"
Squeak
"Yep, it's perfect. Hugo Boss… so what's it like being small, yellow and feathery, Hugo?"
squeak
"Yeah… I figured."
o
"I have to go to work, Hugo. I don't care how much you squeak at me, I still have to go."
squeak… squeak…
"Fine. I'll fucking take you with me, but stop looking at me like that."
Brian grabbed the cardboard box, the bag of food and the plastic recipients that Hugo used.
Driving to Kinnetik, he kept up a stream of conversation with Hugo, who looked up at him from his box on the floor of the passenger side. At a stop light, Brian reflected that his life had become seriously pathetic… talking to duck had to be rock bottom.
When he arrived at the office, he immediately asked Cynthia to get him a bunch of newspapers and mushrooms (Hugo really liked mushrooms).
Cynthia looked at the box next to his desk, then looked at Brian, and shook her head.
Brian knew he had a new assistant for this sort of thing, but he really didn't want her to see the boss had a soft side.
"Ah, well… another day, another dollar."
squeak
"You know it, Hugo."
Later that night, already at the loft, Brian browsed the net for pet bags.
"If there are designer bags for stupid little Chihuahuas, there have to be some for annoying little ducks." he muttered to himself.
squeak
"Oh, shut up, Hugo, you know you are totally annoying. And if you're going to make me take you to work, you better be sure I'm taking you in style. Brian Kinney doesn't do cardboard."
o
"You… what, honey?"
"I want to adopt the duck, Emmett."
Michael looked at Brian. Ted looked at Emmett. Emmett looked at Michael, then Ted, then Brian. Ok, so this wasn't a figment of his imagination.
"Um… why?"
"Because I don't want him to be eaten, and I've taking care of the damn thing for two weeks already and damn it I just want to, alright!"
"Ok, ok, Brian… no problem. You can keep it."
"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work."
The guys looked on with barely concealed amusement as Brian dropped some money on the table, bent down to grab a Louis Vuitton pet carrier bag and made his way out of the dinner.
Then they burst out laughing.
Ben came in looking confused and sat down next to Michael.
"I think I saw Brian talking to a duck. My new meds must have more side-effects than I thought."
"No, sweetie. Brian was talking to a duck."
Ben looked at Emmet, even more confused. Ted and Michael just burst out laughing again.
o
"Ok… let me get this straight… Emmett asked you to take care of the duck he planned on cooking eventually, you did… and then you adopted him?"
"Yes, basically."
"And you called him Hugo?"
"Hugo Boss."
Justin stared in wonder at Brian.
"You know… I think you may have really lost your mind."
"Yeah, I think so too."
"Ok, just so we're clear. Can we fuck now?"
"Sure."
squeak
"Brian… the duck is staring at us…"
"He's just a duck Justin… plus it's not like you're not used to an audience…"
"Not one that squeaks!"
"Just one that moans, pants and sweats?"
"Will you just please… put him to bed or something?"
"Fine… fine… come along, Hugo."
Justin was torn between hysterical laughter and absolute tenderness at the sight of Brian, shirtless, jeans unbuttoned, looking like sex personified, being trailed by a small duck.
Brian Kinney never ceased to surprise him.
The object of his thought came back, looking at him intently.
"So, why aren't you naked yet?"
Justin laughed, and as he unbuttoned his jeans, something occurred to him.
"Brian, what are you going to do with Hugo when he's bigger?"
"I'm sure a house with a swimming pool, a stable and a tennis court can accommodate a little pond for a duck." Brian answered nonchalantly.
Justin's eyes widened at the implication of that.
"You still have… the house?" he whispered.
Brian just smiled and kissed him.
Yep, Brian Kinney was full of surprises.
The End.
Author's note: I have no idea where this came from. I guess it's what happens after three weeks of spending time with a duck. Blame him. LOL