You take me here from far
Up to the highest star
You took a part of me
No one else will ever see
And if I gave away
What I'm dying to say
I couldn't give you more than this
I was born and it was bliss
I have died for a thousand years
Tasted salt of a thousand tears
And your kiss was almost gold
**********************
He is lying in an empty bed and he wonders exactly when he stopped preferring it that way.
The music is from high school, back in the days when he and Mikey were into Brit bands and guitars. Back when he thought he was invincible, god with a gold bandana and a well-practiced smirk.
Back then, you know, when everything was different.
He is aware that time is passing. It's an ever-present reality, crystallized at certain moments, like plucking grey hairs and not thinking about 30.
He is not a stupid man. He can read his actions as well, better, then those around him. It's just that he decided a long time ago not to care, not to worry about all that shit. Just to live. Thinking about how to fix everything just didn't seem to be working. So he decided to stop thinking.
But tonight he can't stop. He's had six men since Justin left on his pretty boy artist's arm.
Six men and every single time he's come he's pictured that blond head, that brilliant smile. The image comes unwilling, unbidden into his mind. He tries to clamp down on it, push it away, but it only makes it stronger.
There is a certain horror in realizing that he does in fact feel something for the kid. A distinct horror in the acceptance that, in his own fucked up way, he had a whole fantasy world constructed for the two of them.
But he always knew that it would come to this. Even if his little fantasy sometimes got the upper hand, underneath it all he knew the time would come when Justin would go out there and get a real boyfriend.
And it's really okay. Because underneath all the bravado, he really does want what's best for the kid.
He just wishes he could escape the melodrama of asking himself why it couldn't be him.
************************************
There are three messages on his machine when he gets home from work. They are all from Mikey. He fights off the sense of dissapointment. He does not call Mikey back.
He showers and changes, with familiar ritual and precision, he is out the door before thinking about where he is going.
He drives past Woody's, uptown to some swank hotel bar. A place where he often entertains clients. Where the patrons are unlikely to be well-versed in the Legend of Brian Kinney.
Halfway into his second scotch he feels the eyes of a tall asian man from the other end of the bar. He is well-dressed, older. Brian makes eye contact but can't bring himself to saunter over. He feels suddenly tired. He lets the man come to him.
He does not bring the asian back to the loft. They end up in one of the hotel rooms, all guilded brass and French tapistry.
They fuck hard, mercilessly. Brian thinks the man is married, or at least in some kind of committed relationship. Afterwards the trick tries to make small talk. He obeys listlessly for about ten minutes, then offers some bullshit about a work deadline.
As he drives home the dashboard clock reads 11:20pm. He figues he has been out long enough.
**********************************
He is wrong. When he enters the loft Justin is disassembling the computer. At the sound of the door Justin looks up suddenly, the deer in the bright headlights.
But as soon as thier eyes meet, the tension breaks.
Brians regards Justin, nods towards the computer.
"I didn't think you'd take it".
"It's...it's just until I can transfer the files", Justin's voice catches with an uncomfortable hestitancy.
Brian breathes, feeling older then he ever has before. He searches for an angry rebuff, but finds nothing but exhaustion.
"Justin, it's yours".
Justin starts to argue then seems to backup in mid-thought.
"Thanks", he says, his voice soft and familiar. He tucks the computer under his arm and grabs the duffel bag at his feet.
Brain thinks he should move, put distance between them as Justin walks towards the door, but he doesn't.
Justin's gaze is down and he is walking slowly. Brian thinks that he will just slip past him, but Justin stops directly in front of him and looks him straight in the eyes.
"For everything", the boy says. "Thanks for everything". He smiles, almost, and then falters. "It was...you...I..."
Brian is surprised to find that he wants to say something, but he has never been here before.
Justin's eyes are deep blue and Brian sees wisdom and innoncence and fire.
"Be careful", he says as he directs the boy towards the door.
**********************************
Lyrics from "Almost Gold" by Jesus and Mary Chain.
Feedback makes you sexier. Give it to me at cl.47@rogers.com
Up to the highest star
You took a part of me
No one else will ever see
And if I gave away
What I'm dying to say
I couldn't give you more than this
I was born and it was bliss
I have died for a thousand years
Tasted salt of a thousand tears
And your kiss was almost gold
**********************
He is lying in an empty bed and he wonders exactly when he stopped preferring it that way.
The music is from high school, back in the days when he and Mikey were into Brit bands and guitars. Back when he thought he was invincible, god with a gold bandana and a well-practiced smirk.
Back then, you know, when everything was different.
He is aware that time is passing. It's an ever-present reality, crystallized at certain moments, like plucking grey hairs and not thinking about 30.
He is not a stupid man. He can read his actions as well, better, then those around him. It's just that he decided a long time ago not to care, not to worry about all that shit. Just to live. Thinking about how to fix everything just didn't seem to be working. So he decided to stop thinking.
But tonight he can't stop. He's had six men since Justin left on his pretty boy artist's arm.
Six men and every single time he's come he's pictured that blond head, that brilliant smile. The image comes unwilling, unbidden into his mind. He tries to clamp down on it, push it away, but it only makes it stronger.
There is a certain horror in realizing that he does in fact feel something for the kid. A distinct horror in the acceptance that, in his own fucked up way, he had a whole fantasy world constructed for the two of them.
But he always knew that it would come to this. Even if his little fantasy sometimes got the upper hand, underneath it all he knew the time would come when Justin would go out there and get a real boyfriend.
And it's really okay. Because underneath all the bravado, he really does want what's best for the kid.
He just wishes he could escape the melodrama of asking himself why it couldn't be him.
************************************
There are three messages on his machine when he gets home from work. They are all from Mikey. He fights off the sense of dissapointment. He does not call Mikey back.
He showers and changes, with familiar ritual and precision, he is out the door before thinking about where he is going.
He drives past Woody's, uptown to some swank hotel bar. A place where he often entertains clients. Where the patrons are unlikely to be well-versed in the Legend of Brian Kinney.
Halfway into his second scotch he feels the eyes of a tall asian man from the other end of the bar. He is well-dressed, older. Brian makes eye contact but can't bring himself to saunter over. He feels suddenly tired. He lets the man come to him.
He does not bring the asian back to the loft. They end up in one of the hotel rooms, all guilded brass and French tapistry.
They fuck hard, mercilessly. Brian thinks the man is married, or at least in some kind of committed relationship. Afterwards the trick tries to make small talk. He obeys listlessly for about ten minutes, then offers some bullshit about a work deadline.
As he drives home the dashboard clock reads 11:20pm. He figues he has been out long enough.
**********************************
He is wrong. When he enters the loft Justin is disassembling the computer. At the sound of the door Justin looks up suddenly, the deer in the bright headlights.
But as soon as thier eyes meet, the tension breaks.
Brians regards Justin, nods towards the computer.
"I didn't think you'd take it".
"It's...it's just until I can transfer the files", Justin's voice catches with an uncomfortable hestitancy.
Brian breathes, feeling older then he ever has before. He searches for an angry rebuff, but finds nothing but exhaustion.
"Justin, it's yours".
Justin starts to argue then seems to backup in mid-thought.
"Thanks", he says, his voice soft and familiar. He tucks the computer under his arm and grabs the duffel bag at his feet.
Brain thinks he should move, put distance between them as Justin walks towards the door, but he doesn't.
Justin's gaze is down and he is walking slowly. Brian thinks that he will just slip past him, but Justin stops directly in front of him and looks him straight in the eyes.
"For everything", the boy says. "Thanks for everything". He smiles, almost, and then falters. "It was...you...I..."
Brian is surprised to find that he wants to say something, but he has never been here before.
Justin's eyes are deep blue and Brian sees wisdom and innoncence and fire.
"Be careful", he says as he directs the boy towards the door.
**********************************
Lyrics from "Almost Gold" by Jesus and Mary Chain.
Feedback makes you sexier. Give it to me at cl.47@rogers.com