Disclaimer: Showtime and Cowlip own the pretty boys. And the rest of the characters and settings. I just use them for my own amusement and enjoyment.
Moral of the Story: Don't sue.
Unavoidable
Some things are best left up to fate
"So if my mom calls, make sure you tell her I'm sleeping or in the bathroom or something. Make sure that she thinks I'm there."
"Okay! Justin, I'm not stupid, I won't tell."
"I know, Daph," he said into the phone, "I just need to have all my bases covered. If she finds out where I'm really going tonight, she'll kill me."
"Where are you going, anyway?" Justin hesitated and Daphne heard his breathing quicken. "Justin?"
"I'll tell you tomorrow, Daph, if everything goes okay," he answered finally. He forced himself up off his bed and walked towards the closet and started digging through it- had to find the perfect outfit for tonight.
"Why are you being so secretive? Don't we tell each other everything?"
"We do! And I will… I just have to… make sure of some things first. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay Daphne? And remember: don't let my mom know I'm not there."
"'Kay, Justin." Daphne gnawed on her lower lip, not quite ready to hang up yet. It kind of worried her that he wouldn't tell her where he was going. "Justin, why don't you really stay over?" She quickly continued before Justin could interrupt, "That way you won't have to lie, and we'll order pizza and laugh at bad porn movies all night. C'mon, it'll be fun!"
"Daph, I have plans…"
"So break them! It's been so long since we've hung out, just the two of us."
"One week! And besides, we see each other every day in school."
"Justin…"
"C'mon Daph, I told you, I'm busy."
Daphne sighed dramatically, "Fine, I understand. My best friend in the whole entire world is too busy to hang out with me. I'll get over it one day…"
"Daphne…"
"No, Justin. No need to explain, I'll be fine. I'll just find something else to do tonight, like paint my nails or wash my hair. Or something."
"Fine," He gave in, "I'll postpone my plans until next week." He rolled his eyes, even though she couldn't see him. "But only because it's you."
She squealed. "You're the best, Justin! We'll have so much fun tonight, promise! Come over in, like, an hour. I'll order the pizza."
Justin put the phone down and sighed, shoving the jeans and over shirt he'd laid out back into his closet. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't chickening out; he was just doing Daphne a favor. After all, she was his best friend…but he knew the truth.Justin Taylor was too pussy to play with the big boys of Liberty Avenue. He'd rather spend his evening somewhere safe and familiar with his best friend (fag hag? Was that what she was?) and being completely juvenile while the rest of the gay world was happily sucking and fucking and leaving him out.
"Are you gonna tell me where you were going to go?" Daphne asked, tearing the crust of her pizza into tiny pieces. In the background, a cheesy porno was still playing, but the two had long since gotten bored of watching bottle blonds with impossibly large breasts and unattractive older men fuck on the screen.
If Justin had ever doubted his gayness, his aversion to hetero porn would have squashed it in an instant.
"I was gonna get laid," he stated boldly.
"Oh yeah? By who?" Daphne was interested.
"I'd find someone," He said nonchalantly.
Daphne snorted, "Where?"
Justin barely hesitated before saying, "Liberty Avenue."
Daphne gaped at him, much the reaction he was expecting. "And you weren't going to take me? Liberty Avenue is supposed to have the best night life in Pittsburgh!"
Okay, maybe he was expecting a slightly different response. "Aren't you shocked?"
She shook her head, "Not really."
"Oh." He'd be damned if he wasn't a little disappointed. This was a life changing admission, after all.
"Well, I kinda figured that you were…y'know…" Daphne paused, "Even though you never told me."
"I'm telling you now," he retorted.
There was an awkward silence and Justin felt his heart sink. Daphne looked up at smiled sincerely at him. "Want the last piece of pizza?" she asked. Justin was reminded of how much he loved her.
Justin sat alone at a booth in the Liberty Diner sketching on a napkin and eating ketchup drowned fries from his nearly empty plate. Daphne had told him that he shouldn't rush into this gay thing. That his blowing off Liberty for her meant that he simply wasn't ready to dive headfirst into the stereotypical gay lifestyle of sex, drugs, and dancing.
Taking her advice, he took his first trip to Liberty Avenue as a openly gay man during broad daylight when it could have been any street in any city in the country. Well, any street that had an astounding number of same-sex couples kissing and groping out in the open. But Justin didn't feel intimidated, quite the contrary. He felt comfortable.
The Liberty Diner had seemed the perfect place to begin his exploration of Liberty Avenue, and Justin wasn't disappointed. He'd liked it from the moment he entered. Like the rest of the street, it was open and colorful, not like the stuffy, uptight diners his parents had brought him and Molly to for Sunday brunch.
The diner hadn't been crowded when he'd gotten there- he'd beaten the lunchtime rush by about an hour- but he saw something, someone, immediately that sparked his attention. A man- no, he was more than a man. Jesus, he had to be some kind of god- was sitting at the counter, hunched over a sandwich and a steaming cup of coffee, acting and talking like he owned the place as well as the rest of the world. Justin's fingers itched for a pencil.
He'd been drawing for nearly a half hour. The man was long gone and his french fry supply was dwindling, but the image was clear in Justin's mind. The figure on the napkin was beginning to take a distinct form. He just needed to add the little details and he'd be done. He was shading the jacket of the man's suit when he was interrupted.
"Whatcha drawing, Sunshine?" The waitress- Debbie, her nametag said- asked, coming over to take his empty plate. Justin winced at the nickname; she'd been calling him that ever since she'd taken his order. She was a freak, Justin had decided, what, with her bright red hair, lewd, colorful clothing, and outrageously loud demeanor, but he had liked her right from the beginning. "Haven't seen you around here before," was the first thing she'd said to him, "You're cute. Every guy here has his eye on you today, Sweetheart."
"It's nothing," he said, trying to hide it, but Debbie snatched the napkin out from his grasp.
"You're an artist," she said, awed, putting down the plate and looking more closely at the drawing, "And a fucking good one at that!"
Justin flushed slightly and muttered his thanks and tried to hide as heads turned his way, but Debbie didn't seem to hear him.
"Hey, Lindsay! Check this kid out, he's a fucking artist!" She called, and Justin was suddenly too interested to be embarrassed as a pretty blond approached the table. "Lindsay's an art teacher," Debbie said, after introducing them both.
Lindsay smiled at him, "It's nice to meet you, Justin." She studied the drawing in Debbie's hand. "How long have you been drawing?"
"My mom bought me crayons while I was still in the crib," He'd taken another napkin out of the dispenser and began sketching Lindsay, "I never stopped."
"Y'know, these are… good," Lindsay said, looking at his drawing of the gorgeous man at the counter and the one he'd started of her.
"That's what my mom says," He answered, shrugging slightly.
"Well, they're both right. You're a fucking genius, Sunshine," Debbie was beaming at him.
"You know, for someone your age, you have an amazing feel for the human form," Lindsay continued.
"He keeps hanging around Liberty Avenue and he'll have an even better feel for it," Debbie cracked.
"You know," Lindsay said thoughtfully, "There's going to be an art show at the GLC."
"What's that?" Justin asked, interested.
"The Gay and Lesbian Center, of course," Debbie said, nudging him, "You should check it out, it would be good for you to meet some nice, young men."
"It's an annual fundraiser." Lindsay explained, seeing Justin's confused look. "My partner Melanie and I are on the board. Would you like to have your work in the show?"
"You mean people seeing my stuff?" The concept was foreign to Justin. Sure, he'd shown his drawings to a few people. His art teacher for one, and Daphne of course had seen and praised them all. He'd even shown a couple of the best (and most PG-rated) ones to his parents, well, his mom at least. His dad never seemed to care much about his art.
"Yeah." Lindsay was smiling at him almost hopefully, as though he single handedly could make this art show a success. He had a feeling that Lindsay had that affect on most people, making them feel like they were the most important person in the world in her eyes.
"That'd be intense," Justin considered, "But… yeah!" He'd be an idiot to turn this chance down.
"Great!" She sounded genuinely excited for him. "I should introduce you to Melanie, she'd love to meet our new star artist." Lindsay rubbed his shoulder warmly and walked back to where she had been sitting.
"He's going to break your heart," Debbie said once Lindsay had gone.
"Hm?" Justin looked up from his drawing.
"I've known Brian Kinney since he was fourteen; he doesn't do boyfriends or relationships. He fucks 'em and leaves 'em, Sunshine. Don't let yourself get too attached."
Justin just stared at her, "I'm sorry, who?"
"Brian Kinney," The waitress sounded exasperated, "You know, the guy you were drawing."
"Oh," Justin felt his face flush slightly, "I never actually met him, he was just sitting there, and I was bored and… he's beautiful." Justin stuttered, mentally smacking himself for sounding like such a twat.
Debbie just nodded, excusing herself, and went back to bussing tables. It annoyed Justin that Debbie was acting like such a know-it-all. He had only met her today and already she seemed to think he was some starry eyed little twink who would fall in love with the first gorgeous man he saw.
"Justin," Lindsay had returned, "I'd like you to meet Melanie and our son, Abe."
"Hi," Justin stood up to greet them, smiling the smile that'd earned him his new nickname. "He's, like, the cutest baby ever." The lesbians beamed at him. "And his name… very unique. I don't think I've ever met another Abe in my life."
"Well, I wanted to name him Gus…" Lindsay said, but she was smiling.
"I like Gus," Justin nodded.
"Well then, it's a good thing you didn't name him or we'd have you to thank when he ended up pumping gas," Melanie said.
"Mel's a lawyer, there was no way I was going to get my way," Lindsay laughed.
"You know," Justin began, "If you ever need a babysitter…"
"Don't say that unless you mean it," Lindsay cut in.
"Oh, I definitely mean it. And anything else you may need help with, too. Cooking, cleaning, carrying heavy things…"
"Well, aren't you good for a thousand and one uses," Mel said, shifting Abe in her arms, "And with your talent, it looks like you'll make the Center a good amount of money."
"And we'll make sure everyone comes, including-" Lindsay winked at him, "Brian Kinney."
There was that name again.
"How about this one?" Daphne asked, holding up a charcoal sketch of Jennifer Taylor. "It's really, really good."
"Maybe," Justin put it aside, "do you really think that it's the type of art that people would want to buy though?"
"Who cares? You can totally see how much you love her by how you drew her. Aren't gay people supposed to find that sweet?"
"Some of them do, I guess." He answered, thinking about what he'd heard of Brian Kinney. Brian Kinney wouldn't find it sweet, he'd think it was totally sappy and lesbianic. That definitely wasn't the impression he wanted to make.
"And just think about how much she would love seeing it up there, Justin."
"She's not going to see it," Justin put the sketch in question into the 'definitely no' pile.
"Why not? She'd be so proud of you! You always told me that she was the one that always encouraged your art!"
"Think about it, Daph. The show is at the Gay and Lesbian Center. If she was there, she'd know I'm gay."
There was a long pause. The two halfheartedly dug through the pile of artwork without really looking at any of the pieces. Finally Daphne broke the silence, "Would that really be the worst that could happen?"
Justin shrugged, "I don't know. I don't really want to find out, either." He picked up a watercolor landscape he'd done about a year ago, "How about this one?"
Daphne shook her head, letting him change the subject. "I don't think so. The art is good and all, but it's a little boring."
Justin nodded his agreement and set it aside with the rest of the rejects.
"I do like this one, however," Daphne said with a big grin. She held up his most recent drawing of a naked Brian Kinney, fast asleep. Justin felt his face heat up and tried to grab the paper from her, but she held it out of his reach. "Who is this, Justin? He's so hot!"
Justin gave up trying to get the picture back and sat back, letting her admire Brian's impressive form. "Brian Kinney. Remember that guy I told you about? The one from the diner."
Dapne's eyes grew wide as she looked between Justin and the drawing. "You had sex with him, didn't you!" she cried. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Cause nothing happened," Justin sighed, "We didn't fuck; I never even met him. This is just what I drew from imagination."
"You have a pretty good imagination, then," her eyes wandered to Brian's lower regions. "Hey, is Brian going to be at the art show?"
Justin shook his head, "Probably not. Mel and Linds told me that he hates the Center and hardly ever has anything to do with it."
"Then I think that you should put this one up there. It's your best, I think. The artwork is fantastic and you're obviously really passionate about the subject," she teased.
Justin grinned back at her, "Maybe," he said. His mind was already made up.
Justin could hardly believe that this was real. A huge crowd had turned up at the Center for the art show. People were milling around, sipping at their free drinks and admiring and critiquing all the art. He purposely hung around his own section, listening intently to what everyone had to say about his work. He hadn't been disappointed with their reactions yet.
Not surprisingly, his most popular piece was the drawing he'd done of Brian. Everyone knew right away who he was and everyone had something to say about it. Mostly, he was hearing comments about how accurate his portrayal of Brian's cock was. And every so often, some jealous fag would mutter that "the artist had taken some liberties. It had never been that big"
All in all, he was positively beaming when Daphne ran over to him.
"Did you see this?" she asked, waving a piece of paper in his face. "They're charging $100 for every one of your drawings. You could be rich!"
"It's charity, I don't get to keep it."
Daphne made a face, "Still…"
"Come here, I want you to meet Melanie and Lindsay." He grabbed her hand and dragged her over to where the lesbians were standing, talking to a patron. Lindsay, holding a sleeping Abe in her arms, excused herself and smiled at Justin when she saw him.
"So?" she said warmly, "What do you think?"
"It's great! I've never had so many people see my stuff before. And everyone keeps coming up to me to tell me how talented I am."
"Well, they're right," Melanie said. "We've already sold about half of your pieces."
"Really?" Both women nodded. Suddenly, he remembered Daphne. "This is my best friend, Daphne," he introduced her.
"Hi," she said with a small wave, "I'm not a lesbian but I'm a big fan!"
Justin was having the time of his life. The show had been going on for a couple hours, but more and more people kept showing up. He hadn't lied before when he'd told Lindsay how many people were complimenting his talent. At this point, if his head got any bigger, he was sure he'd never be able to get out the door.
He had just thanked an admirer who'd given him his card and told him to contact him if Justin would be interested in privately selling some of his work, when he felt warm breath on the back of his neck.
"Mind telling me what my dick is doing up there?" A voice breathed softly. Justin stiffened and turned around slowly until he was face to face with Brian Kinney. He was even more beautiful up close.
"How did you-" he began.
"You're the artist, aren't you?" Brian said in that same low tone. "You do have one hell of an accurate imagination, though, Sunshine."
"I- I do?" Justin wanted to smack himself. He was making such an idiot out of himself in front of the god of Liberty Avenue, and he couldn't seem to stop.
Brian raised an eyebrow and smirked with his tongue pressed into his cheek looking so cool and sexy that Justin immediately tensed up again.
"Well, I never fucked you," he said, and Justin wanted to sink into the floor. He never should have listened to Daphne; he never should have put up that drawing.
Justin opened his mouth to make another lame remark, but Brian was already long gone. He had missed his chance.
The art show was over. Inside the Center, volunteers were cleaning up and packing away the sold artwork to ship to the buyers the next day. Daphne was inside helping, but Justin had politely excused himself, saying he needed some fresh air.
He stood out back, leaning against a streetlamp. He lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly, feeling horny and sorry for himself.
"How's it going?" Brian Kinney asked, coming up to him from out of the shadows. Justin tensed up again, but forced himself to try to not make a fool out of himself again. He'd already fucked up once. "You had a busy night?"
Justin cleared his throat, "Yeah. The show made the Center more money this year than ever before," he said. There was no response from Brian, so he continued, hoping he wasn't babbling. "Lindsay said that I helped a lot. They sold all my drawings; even the one I did of you."
Brian smirked, "Oh yeah? So there's going to be a picture of my cock on some hopeless fag's wall for them to jerk off to every night," he laughed, "at least no one can say I'm not giving back to my community."
He took the cigarette out of Justin's mouth and took a long drag, while Justin watched and tried to keep his face cool and impassive.
"So where you headed?" Brian asked, finally.
Justin's heart jumped, but he kept himself under control, "No place special."
"I can change that."