Title: Grow Up and Face It
By: Amanda
Feedback: sweety167yahoo.ca
Rating: PG (Language)
Disclaimer: Nothing QAF related is mine and I'm not making any money off of this, it's a labour of love.
Spoilers: Season 4
Summary: Brian and Uncle Vic moment. B/M overtones. (Season 4 Spoilers)
Completed: June 17, 2004
"You love Michael," the horse, older voice greeted the young Brian in the Novotny kitchen.
The sixteen-year-old jumped slightly from the realisation that he wasn't alone while he dug through the refrigerator, "Huh?"
"I said you love Michael," Vic Grassi repeated, speaking through a cough as he reached for one of many bottles of pills from the counter.
"'Course I do," came the shrug along with a piece of chicken from the fridge, "He's my best friend."
Vic laughed a little, swallowing water from a glass, "That's not exactly what I mean and you know it." Another swallow and cough followed, "He loves you too."
"Listen—"
"Vic," he cut the boy off, "You've been around here enough with me lurking in the shadows like a ghost, you can call me Vic." The little attempt at being friendly was delivered while leaning back against the counter; his pill dose was finished for now.
"Okay, Vic," Brian was laying the teenaged attitude on thick. He had escaped to Michael's to avoid people, not to be draw into a family conversation with the sick uncle. "I know Michael loves me, we're best friends," he punctuated his statement by biting into the meat.
Vic rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, there was no way he was going to break this one right now, ever if it was obvious, even to him, "Sure, but one of these days you're gonna have to grow up and face it."
"I'm going to be young forever," he snorted with the smugness of youth that Brian Kinney would never really out grow.
Vic laughed at him through a coughing fit- whether it was the laughing or virus that caused the fit wasn't clear, "Sure kid. I just hope it's not being sick that wakes you up to this." There was an air of wisdom that drifted off of his words, but also an eccentric vibe that made his comments both cryptic and insightful.
Young Brian's face contorted as if the very idea of becoming sick was foreign to him. Being forever young and beautiful was the plan, there was no other option.
"Vic?!" a bellowing call from Debbie broke into the mini-moment and silence between the two, "Where the hell are you?"
"Playing Hide-n-seek Sis," he replied with a bitter humour to his sister's unamused and panicked stare.
"Well get your bony ass back into bed and stop trotting around the house at one in the morning," she ripped into her brother in their usual way, "And Brian honey stop snacking at this time of night or you'll lose that tight little ass of yours." And with that she drifted into the kitchen, swooping the plate away from the boy and dropping it into the sink, while still managing to usher Vic toward that stairs.
The grumble from Brian didn't deter her from patting him on the head, "'Night sweetie." But she didn't dare kiss the teenager goodnight. And again her train of thought was on her brother; "Better get you back to bed."
"Yeah, yeah. Quit riding me – you're missing the best part for that anyway," Vic winked back at the unamused boy still seated at the table, "You'd better get yourself back upstairs before someone misses you, or worse, you miss him."
With one last pointed look the miss-matched pair disappeared up the stairs.
Brian laughed to himself, but he wasn't sure which was more absurd, the strange fag hag and corpse of a brother, the young and beautiful Brian Kinney aging and rotting like Vic or the idea of him and Mikey and love in the same thought. As if any of that were possible.
XxXxX
Brian awoke, followed by the sickening pain that plagued him now. Plagued him like the recent dreams with the late Vic taking on a starring role. But this one wasn't a twisted nightmare, it was a memory. Some long forgotten moment from the far too distant past – just how distant he didn't want to dwell on. Ever since Vic died, and this goddamned thing invaded him, Brian had been tormented by these thoughts…and now Vic's words.
"One of these days you're have to grow up and face it."
He rubbed his hand over his face, taking a deep breath to fight the nausea. "Grow up and face it," he laughed to himself, bitterly, "How's this for growing up, asshole?" He groaned, rolling himself onto his side, away from a sleeping Justin on the other end of the bed. The thoughts taking up more space in their bed than usual.
"Of course I love him," he took a long, slow breath staring off at the wall, "he's best friend." And with that he carefully curled himself up, alone, trying to find peaceful sleep again.
-End-
A/N: This is partly homage to Uncle Vic, since I really miss that guy.