Justin gasped in revel at the sensations filling his body. He felt every heart beat clearly pinging around his body. His body, alive, free, dancing.
With Brian.
It was then he discovered what he needed. It wasn't his parents acceptance. It wasn't Debbie's give'em hell attitude and sage wisdom, it wasn't the flamboyant praise of Emmett, Lindsey, and Melanie for following his dream nor their uneasy acceptance when he decided to desert it.
He needed Brian.
He needed the rock that was Brian FUCKING Kinney.
He needed a beer, a dance, and the lecture that would hurt his feelings. He needed the reality check that only Brian could give him. He needed to see it in the omnipresent, unbiased eyes of Brian Kinney. He needed to hear it - the truth of what growing up and making his own decisions meant - from that sensuous, cruelly honest pair of cupid's bow lips.
Justin felt Brian's hand along his body, Justin felt the thumpa-thumpa of Babylon, Justin knew Brian was dealing with his own demons, Justin knew Brian FUCKING Kinney was one of the nicest, egotistical, most generous assbutts in the entire state of Pennsylvania.
Justin just smiled his 10,000 Watt smile and brought his lips to Brian's as they danced their way closer to grinding and farther from actually dancing. He knew he'd go to Deb's and write a letter. And he knew that he'd probably teeter on it all night long, the decision that is of which to send.
Justin knew, that whichever he ultimately chose, would be trumped by Brian remembering the sentence that started Justin along this crazy train to self-exploration and independence and emotional freedom.
"I'm going with him."
Justin was going with Brian. Justin was going with his gut.
Justin's gut had always told him, that he deserved and wanted and craved what Brian and his magical, rainbow, sordid, crazy world offered to him that night.
Freedom to just be.
_X_X_X_X_X_
Well, that's the end. Not much to it. I was overcome with emotions and stuff like that after a whole lot of stuff, then Justin and the episode where he's trying to decide on Dartmouth vs PIFA and it just rung so many bells my fingers were itching.
Technically this is my first QAF fic, if it counts as a real fic, I think it's a drabble. Maybe I'll write more tonight, it's only 3am.
Reviews are very welcome, criticism is as well as long as it's not mindless hate, there's enough of that in the world.
Hope y'all liked it.
~Ley
DISCLAIMER: I make no profit from this story, I do not own any QAF characters, settings, or plot lines.
