Entry #03 - "Blessed"
Title: Blessed
Written By: nightsister
Timeline: Post Season Five
Rating: PG-13 for language
Warnings: None
Genre: Drama
Blessed
Brian Kinney's dirty little secret #347, and one that he would probably deny to his dying day, was this:
He thought. A lot.
He thought, he surmised, he ruminated, he philosophized; sometimes he even brooded. And his closest friends and acquaintances? None the wiser. Ted and Emmett never suspected, Lindsey suspected but didn't know for sure, Melanie also suspected but she was stuck in a deep, raging denial that anything other than a Brian Kinney who wasn't a selfish asshole even existed. Michael sometimes caught a glimpse of this contemplative version of his best friend and Ben surely recognized a kindred spirit, but neither of them would ever acknowledge it in public. And Justin?
Justin knew. Justin had always known. But that didn't matter any more.
Thinking was like fucking to Brian -- he could do it anywhere. Which was why he was sitting at the bar at Woody's on a Sunday afternoon, nursing a beer growing steadily warmer, staring off into space. This was also why he never saw the stranger who came over to sit next to him until it was far too late.
"I want an ice cold beer and a long hard fuck." The stranger turned, caught Brian's questioning look, and gave a slow, top to bottom leer. "Though maybe not in that order."
Well, fuck it. Brian was getting tired of thinking anyway. He stood up and motioned toward the bathrooms. "Anytime you're ready."
To his surprise, the stranger laughed and shook his head. "As much as I would love to say that I've had Brian Kinney's cock up my ass, I've got far too much to do," he said. "I'm so very busy. Sorry."
Brian shrugged and sat back down. Wasn't his loss. He was prepared to blow the guy off and get back to his beer, but apparently the stranger wanted to talk some more.
"Aren't you the least bit curious how I knew your name?"
Brian shrugged again, bored. "Lots of people know me, especially here."
"But you've never seen me before," the other man insisted. "In fact, you have no idea who I am."
With that, Brian turned and placed his full focus on the stranger. Average height, obvious slim build hidden under a soft black t-shirt, wavy shoulder-length blond hair, blue, blue eyes and holy shit, a magnificent ass, nicely shown off in a pair of practically indecent Rufskin jeans. "I've seen my share of guys like you," Brian said dismissively, after a while. "I've had better." He thought that would be enough to make the other man leave in a huff, but no. The stranger laughed again.
"Oh, you've never met another one like me," he said. "And if you have, he was lying." The stranger held out a well-manicured hand. "I go by many names, but you can call me Sam."
Brian took Sam's hand and the jolt shook him. A sharp, acrid smell like decaying flesh filled his nose while accompanying screams of horror and agony pierced his head, right between the eyes. He wrenched his hand away with a startled yelp as Sam grinned, his teeth flashing putrid and black. "It's very nice to meet you at last, Brian Kinney." His voice was low and rough, as if filled with dirt. "I've heard so many things about you."
Brian pulled back in shock and glanced around quickly, but no one else seemed to notice the bizarre exchange. In fact, everyone in the room ignored them, including the bartender wiping down the bar right in front of him. "What… what the fuck are you?" he gasped, clenching and unclenching his fingers, physically trying to shake out the feeling of anguish from them.
"I told you," Sam said calmly. "I'm Sam." He paused. "Oh, it's short for Samael, if that's what you mean. Samael… the Accuser? The Seducer? The Destroyer? You must've heard of me." He leaned in, eyes going black and soulless. "You know what I am, don't you?"
Brian had suffered through countless Sunday schools and two world religion classes in college to know exactly what the other man meant. "What you are is completely fucked," Brian said angrily, getting ready to leave, hoping his fury would grow strong enough to hide his fear.
But Sam reached out to stop him, only pulling back when Brian visibly flinched. "No, no I'm not, although I am also known as the Prince of Lies," he said, tapping a finger on his chin. "It's true. I'm what some of you groveling, wretched maggots would call the Devil. That part I can't lie about, even if I wanted to. And you know it's true." He pointed at Brian with a meaningful stare. "You know."
Brian sat back, stunned and fighting the urge to start laughing hysterically. Of all the fucking fucked up things he'd been through over the years, meeting Evil itself took the fucking cake. And there was no denying who He -- It -- was. Brian really did know. He fucking knew. But what he didn't know was --
"Why me?" he asked suddenly. "Why the hell are you here talking to me?"
"Oh my fucking, weeping Christ," Sam said, as thunder rolled in the distance. "This isn't all about you, you know. Please, you're not that important. I only came in for a pit stop."
"Then why --"
"Oh, of course I've heard about you. Your father gives you his sloppiest, wettest love and kisses by the way." Sam smiled as Brian blanched. "Just kidding! It's no secret that he hates you. He was overjoyed when they sliced you open and cut out that rotten ball." He made motion like scissors snipping. "The syphilis took him by surprise, although I thought it was inevitable, wasn't it? I mean," he added sweetly, "a disgusting, nasty slut like you should've gotten it a looong time ago."
Brian felt sick. "You're lying. That's what you do, right? And fuck you about the slut thing, too."
Sam gave a smirk but remained silent.
"Anyway," Brian continued, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bar, "What I fucking meant was, why are you here, walking around on Earth? Christ," he muttered to himself. "I'm having a conversation with the Devil. I'm losing it."
"No, you won't lose it for a while yet," Sam replied, eyes glittering. He leaned back and crossed his legs coquettishly. "And isn't it obvious what I'm doing here? Take a goddamned look around, sweetie. You've got wars, killings, bombings -- hate all around!" His laughter came out in a screech. "Shit, this is a dream come true! It's like, it's like fucking Disneyland for the Damned! Oh, speaking of Uncle Walt -- "
"Spare me," Brian said, holding up a hand. "I don't want to know. I don't care."
"Suit yourself," Sam said with a predatory smile. "But okay, I've actually had my eye on you for quite a while now. You're verrry entertaining. All that sex! And that little blond you were with -- Justin, wasn't it? -- he's pretty hot, too. Fuck, I thought he'd be blown up in that explosion! What sweet, sweet irony that would've been, killed in your very own club!" He sighed. "But no. He lived. I swear, I think he's touched by Providence. That boy's lived through too many experiences that should've killed him."
Brian swallowed, a cold fear creeping up his stomach. Whatever this grotesque guy was, Devil or demon or psychopathic fiend or what, he held far too much interest in Justin. "Maybe Justin is blessed," he said thickly. "So maybe you should stay the fuck away from him."
Sam narrowed his eyes and broke out into a sickening parody of a grin. "You still liiiike him," he said, in mocking singsong. "You still loooove him. You still waaaant him. But we both know that he wants nothing to do with you! He lives in New York and you're stuck here!"
"Fuck you," Brian snapped, his anger coming back. "You don't know shit about us."
"Oh, let's see." Sam said, tilting his head and barking out a raucous laugh. "You almost married that tender hors d'oeuvre with the sweetest little hole in all of Pittsburgh, then you lost whatever balls you had left and sent him packing because YOU WERE AFRAID you weren't enough for him! You told him that you wanted the best for him but never stopped to think about what was best for you." He gave a loud sniff. "You're so fucking noble I could cry! Seriously! Oh, you promised you'd stay in touch but you're too much of a pussy to admit that you need him so you never called. He got tired of waiting for you and finally sent you that email that said you really were a cunt and that he'd had enough." Sam blinked innocently. "Am I close?" Before Brian could reply, he added, "But it doesn't end there, right? He found someone else, because he can forget you, even though you can't forget him! He found someone who isn't afraid to be loved by him, someone who's always there for him! Someone who loves him enough to fuck him bareback..." He grinned. "Someone who'll infect him."
Brian lunged and grabbed empty air. "Come on, Sonny Boy," came a voice from behind. Brian whirled to find Sam behind him, sitting on the bar. The bartender walked by, oblivious. "You gotta do better than that."
"Get out of my life!" Brian rasped. "You said you didn't come here for me, you think you can get to me but you can't! You said it yourself -- all you can do is lie!"
Sam shook his head with a teasing smile. "I do lie a lot," he admitted. "And sometimes I don't." He shrugged. "But what're YOU gonna do about it? You're here, sucking on a stale beer at two in the afternoon and the future poster boy for Remsen Pharmaceuticals is in New York, getting that hot little bubble butt reamed by his disease-ridden lover--"
That was when Brian finally lost it. He threw back his head and laughed, roared long and hard, even while he saw the dark shadow of irritation cross his tormentor's face. "Oh… oh shit. You really can't touch Justin, can you?" he said, wiping his eyes. "Justin is here in fucking Pittsburgh. He arrived last night. His mother's birthday party is going on right now, as we speak."
Sam snorted, but there was a dangerous black glint in his eyes. "So why are you here at Woody's?" he asked, ever so softly. "Why aren't you with him? It's because you're feeble and terrified and he's too pitiful to tell you that he's sick because then you won't love him anymore--"
Brian chuckled again. "I'm here because I'm a coward, yeah," he said. "But if Justin has a boyfriend, this is the first time I've heard about it. I was in Woody's wondering if I should move my business to New York or if I should convince him to come home. What do you think?" He was still smiling as he patted Sam on the cheek. He heard a brief tormented scream in his head but it no longer held any sway over him. He had Justin. And Justin was blessed. The Devil himself admitted that much. So it would all work out. "But now, why don't you run along and go find someone else's head to fuck with. I've got things to do. I'm SO very busy."
*************
Brian was walking out of Woody's when he bumped into a familiar blond who was coming in. "Well, speak of the devil," he said. "Shouldn't you be eating ice cream and cake at your mommy's?"
Justin grimaced and gave Brian a light kick on the shin. "Fuck off," he answered. Brian's response was to herd him back to the bar where Sam was now nowhere in sight. Woody's was filled with the ambient murmurs of the regular, human customers again. "I come home for the weekend hoping to explain my email and -- "
"And you were right," Brian said, sitting down. He pulled Justin's stool, the one Sam had occupied, closer. "I was acting like a twat. And you had every right to dump my ass."
"How much have you had to drink?" Justin asked, frowning. He idly started playing with an empty beer bottle, picking at the label. "I thought you said that you didn't care where I lived, that it was my choice."
"Why do you still insist on listening to me?" Brian sighed inwardly, suddenly tired from his encounter with Sam. But exhaustion quickly turned into elation because he had endured a round with the Devil and had managed to come out on top. He could take on anything, including convincing the man he loved to come home. "If you're going to listen at all, listen to this." He swallowed. "I… I want you to move back to Pittsburgh."
Justin stilled. "What?"
Brian tilted his head and stared at the ceiling. "You heard me. I'm fucking tired of waking up alone. I need more than phone calls-"
"That's why you don't call?"
"Shut up and listen to me," Brian said, returning his gaze to Justin's shining, beautiful face. "I want you to come home and live with me. I want to see you everyday. I want you to work here and grow old here and bitch at me here and… and love me here."
Justin's hand flew to his mouth. "Oh my god," he said, suddenly understanding. "You know that I love you wherever you are, right? But that's enough for you? No, of course it's not enough. I knew this long distance thing would be hard for me but I never thought--"
"What? That I wouldn't feel the same way?" Brian asked. "Well, I'm telling you that I feel the same way. So what are we going to do about it?"
It took Justin exactly two heartbeats to make a decision. "We're going to New York and getting my shit and bringing it back here," he said. "I can make my own way with you as easily I can do it without you. But I'd rather be with you." Then he flung himself into Brian's arms and held on tight.
Brian could only close his eyes and enjoy this moment for as long and as hard as he could. Then he looked up, looked around, and thought: Fuck you, Sam. The rest of the world can keep you busy with their hate. There's only love here.
Justin wasn't the only one who was blessed.
Written By: nightsister
Timeline: Post Season Five
Rating: PG-13 for language
Warnings: None
Genre: Drama
Blessed
Brian Kinney's dirty little secret #347, and one that he would probably deny to his dying day, was this:
He thought. A lot.
He thought, he surmised, he ruminated, he philosophized; sometimes he even brooded. And his closest friends and acquaintances? None the wiser. Ted and Emmett never suspected, Lindsey suspected but didn't know for sure, Melanie also suspected but she was stuck in a deep, raging denial that anything other than a Brian Kinney who wasn't a selfish asshole even existed. Michael sometimes caught a glimpse of this contemplative version of his best friend and Ben surely recognized a kindred spirit, but neither of them would ever acknowledge it in public. And Justin?
Justin knew. Justin had always known. But that didn't matter any more.
Thinking was like fucking to Brian -- he could do it anywhere. Which was why he was sitting at the bar at Woody's on a Sunday afternoon, nursing a beer growing steadily warmer, staring off into space. This was also why he never saw the stranger who came over to sit next to him until it was far too late.
"I want an ice cold beer and a long hard fuck." The stranger turned, caught Brian's questioning look, and gave a slow, top to bottom leer. "Though maybe not in that order."
Well, fuck it. Brian was getting tired of thinking anyway. He stood up and motioned toward the bathrooms. "Anytime you're ready."
To his surprise, the stranger laughed and shook his head. "As much as I would love to say that I've had Brian Kinney's cock up my ass, I've got far too much to do," he said. "I'm so very busy. Sorry."
Brian shrugged and sat back down. Wasn't his loss. He was prepared to blow the guy off and get back to his beer, but apparently the stranger wanted to talk some more.
"Aren't you the least bit curious how I knew your name?"
Brian shrugged again, bored. "Lots of people know me, especially here."
"But you've never seen me before," the other man insisted. "In fact, you have no idea who I am."
With that, Brian turned and placed his full focus on the stranger. Average height, obvious slim build hidden under a soft black t-shirt, wavy shoulder-length blond hair, blue, blue eyes and holy shit, a magnificent ass, nicely shown off in a pair of practically indecent Rufskin jeans. "I've seen my share of guys like you," Brian said dismissively, after a while. "I've had better." He thought that would be enough to make the other man leave in a huff, but no. The stranger laughed again.
"Oh, you've never met another one like me," he said. "And if you have, he was lying." The stranger held out a well-manicured hand. "I go by many names, but you can call me Sam."
Brian took Sam's hand and the jolt shook him. A sharp, acrid smell like decaying flesh filled his nose while accompanying screams of horror and agony pierced his head, right between the eyes. He wrenched his hand away with a startled yelp as Sam grinned, his teeth flashing putrid and black. "It's very nice to meet you at last, Brian Kinney." His voice was low and rough, as if filled with dirt. "I've heard so many things about you."
Brian pulled back in shock and glanced around quickly, but no one else seemed to notice the bizarre exchange. In fact, everyone in the room ignored them, including the bartender wiping down the bar right in front of him. "What… what the fuck are you?" he gasped, clenching and unclenching his fingers, physically trying to shake out the feeling of anguish from them.
"I told you," Sam said calmly. "I'm Sam." He paused. "Oh, it's short for Samael, if that's what you mean. Samael… the Accuser? The Seducer? The Destroyer? You must've heard of me." He leaned in, eyes going black and soulless. "You know what I am, don't you?"
Brian had suffered through countless Sunday schools and two world religion classes in college to know exactly what the other man meant. "What you are is completely fucked," Brian said angrily, getting ready to leave, hoping his fury would grow strong enough to hide his fear.
But Sam reached out to stop him, only pulling back when Brian visibly flinched. "No, no I'm not, although I am also known as the Prince of Lies," he said, tapping a finger on his chin. "It's true. I'm what some of you groveling, wretched maggots would call the Devil. That part I can't lie about, even if I wanted to. And you know it's true." He pointed at Brian with a meaningful stare. "You know."
Brian sat back, stunned and fighting the urge to start laughing hysterically. Of all the fucking fucked up things he'd been through over the years, meeting Evil itself took the fucking cake. And there was no denying who He -- It -- was. Brian really did know. He fucking knew. But what he didn't know was --
"Why me?" he asked suddenly. "Why the hell are you here talking to me?"
"Oh my fucking, weeping Christ," Sam said, as thunder rolled in the distance. "This isn't all about you, you know. Please, you're not that important. I only came in for a pit stop."
"Then why --"
"Oh, of course I've heard about you. Your father gives you his sloppiest, wettest love and kisses by the way." Sam smiled as Brian blanched. "Just kidding! It's no secret that he hates you. He was overjoyed when they sliced you open and cut out that rotten ball." He made motion like scissors snipping. "The syphilis took him by surprise, although I thought it was inevitable, wasn't it? I mean," he added sweetly, "a disgusting, nasty slut like you should've gotten it a looong time ago."
Brian felt sick. "You're lying. That's what you do, right? And fuck you about the slut thing, too."
Sam gave a smirk but remained silent.
"Anyway," Brian continued, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bar, "What I fucking meant was, why are you here, walking around on Earth? Christ," he muttered to himself. "I'm having a conversation with the Devil. I'm losing it."
"No, you won't lose it for a while yet," Sam replied, eyes glittering. He leaned back and crossed his legs coquettishly. "And isn't it obvious what I'm doing here? Take a goddamned look around, sweetie. You've got wars, killings, bombings -- hate all around!" His laughter came out in a screech. "Shit, this is a dream come true! It's like, it's like fucking Disneyland for the Damned! Oh, speaking of Uncle Walt -- "
"Spare me," Brian said, holding up a hand. "I don't want to know. I don't care."
"Suit yourself," Sam said with a predatory smile. "But okay, I've actually had my eye on you for quite a while now. You're verrry entertaining. All that sex! And that little blond you were with -- Justin, wasn't it? -- he's pretty hot, too. Fuck, I thought he'd be blown up in that explosion! What sweet, sweet irony that would've been, killed in your very own club!" He sighed. "But no. He lived. I swear, I think he's touched by Providence. That boy's lived through too many experiences that should've killed him."
Brian swallowed, a cold fear creeping up his stomach. Whatever this grotesque guy was, Devil or demon or psychopathic fiend or what, he held far too much interest in Justin. "Maybe Justin is blessed," he said thickly. "So maybe you should stay the fuck away from him."
Sam narrowed his eyes and broke out into a sickening parody of a grin. "You still liiiike him," he said, in mocking singsong. "You still loooove him. You still waaaant him. But we both know that he wants nothing to do with you! He lives in New York and you're stuck here!"
"Fuck you," Brian snapped, his anger coming back. "You don't know shit about us."
"Oh, let's see." Sam said, tilting his head and barking out a raucous laugh. "You almost married that tender hors d'oeuvre with the sweetest little hole in all of Pittsburgh, then you lost whatever balls you had left and sent him packing because YOU WERE AFRAID you weren't enough for him! You told him that you wanted the best for him but never stopped to think about what was best for you." He gave a loud sniff. "You're so fucking noble I could cry! Seriously! Oh, you promised you'd stay in touch but you're too much of a pussy to admit that you need him so you never called. He got tired of waiting for you and finally sent you that email that said you really were a cunt and that he'd had enough." Sam blinked innocently. "Am I close?" Before Brian could reply, he added, "But it doesn't end there, right? He found someone else, because he can forget you, even though you can't forget him! He found someone who isn't afraid to be loved by him, someone who's always there for him! Someone who loves him enough to fuck him bareback..." He grinned. "Someone who'll infect him."
Brian lunged and grabbed empty air. "Come on, Sonny Boy," came a voice from behind. Brian whirled to find Sam behind him, sitting on the bar. The bartender walked by, oblivious. "You gotta do better than that."
"Get out of my life!" Brian rasped. "You said you didn't come here for me, you think you can get to me but you can't! You said it yourself -- all you can do is lie!"
Sam shook his head with a teasing smile. "I do lie a lot," he admitted. "And sometimes I don't." He shrugged. "But what're YOU gonna do about it? You're here, sucking on a stale beer at two in the afternoon and the future poster boy for Remsen Pharmaceuticals is in New York, getting that hot little bubble butt reamed by his disease-ridden lover--"
That was when Brian finally lost it. He threw back his head and laughed, roared long and hard, even while he saw the dark shadow of irritation cross his tormentor's face. "Oh… oh shit. You really can't touch Justin, can you?" he said, wiping his eyes. "Justin is here in fucking Pittsburgh. He arrived last night. His mother's birthday party is going on right now, as we speak."
Sam snorted, but there was a dangerous black glint in his eyes. "So why are you here at Woody's?" he asked, ever so softly. "Why aren't you with him? It's because you're feeble and terrified and he's too pitiful to tell you that he's sick because then you won't love him anymore--"
Brian chuckled again. "I'm here because I'm a coward, yeah," he said. "But if Justin has a boyfriend, this is the first time I've heard about it. I was in Woody's wondering if I should move my business to New York or if I should convince him to come home. What do you think?" He was still smiling as he patted Sam on the cheek. He heard a brief tormented scream in his head but it no longer held any sway over him. He had Justin. And Justin was blessed. The Devil himself admitted that much. So it would all work out. "But now, why don't you run along and go find someone else's head to fuck with. I've got things to do. I'm SO very busy."
*************
Brian was walking out of Woody's when he bumped into a familiar blond who was coming in. "Well, speak of the devil," he said. "Shouldn't you be eating ice cream and cake at your mommy's?"
Justin grimaced and gave Brian a light kick on the shin. "Fuck off," he answered. Brian's response was to herd him back to the bar where Sam was now nowhere in sight. Woody's was filled with the ambient murmurs of the regular, human customers again. "I come home for the weekend hoping to explain my email and -- "
"And you were right," Brian said, sitting down. He pulled Justin's stool, the one Sam had occupied, closer. "I was acting like a twat. And you had every right to dump my ass."
"How much have you had to drink?" Justin asked, frowning. He idly started playing with an empty beer bottle, picking at the label. "I thought you said that you didn't care where I lived, that it was my choice."
"Why do you still insist on listening to me?" Brian sighed inwardly, suddenly tired from his encounter with Sam. But exhaustion quickly turned into elation because he had endured a round with the Devil and had managed to come out on top. He could take on anything, including convincing the man he loved to come home. "If you're going to listen at all, listen to this." He swallowed. "I… I want you to move back to Pittsburgh."
Justin stilled. "What?"
Brian tilted his head and stared at the ceiling. "You heard me. I'm fucking tired of waking up alone. I need more than phone calls-"
"That's why you don't call?"
"Shut up and listen to me," Brian said, returning his gaze to Justin's shining, beautiful face. "I want you to come home and live with me. I want to see you everyday. I want you to work here and grow old here and bitch at me here and… and love me here."
Justin's hand flew to his mouth. "Oh my god," he said, suddenly understanding. "You know that I love you wherever you are, right? But that's enough for you? No, of course it's not enough. I knew this long distance thing would be hard for me but I never thought--"
"What? That I wouldn't feel the same way?" Brian asked. "Well, I'm telling you that I feel the same way. So what are we going to do about it?"
It took Justin exactly two heartbeats to make a decision. "We're going to New York and getting my shit and bringing it back here," he said. "I can make my own way with you as easily I can do it without you. But I'd rather be with you." Then he flung himself into Brian's arms and held on tight.
Brian could only close his eyes and enjoy this moment for as long and as hard as he could. Then he looked up, looked around, and thought: Fuck you, Sam. The rest of the world can keep you busy with their hate. There's only love here.
Justin wasn't the only one who was blessed.