The love song of Brian A. Kinney


Timeline: Past, Present and Future
Rating: R
Summary: Dare to be who you want to be. Even if who you want to be is a narcissistic asshole with a pretty blonde boyfriend.
Author Notes: Inspiration for this was The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. There's a line that may sound familiar because it's lifted from a really good QAF fic.


Brian is only starting to realize that he might not be like other boys when Grace Wilson wears a tight white shirt that shows off her breasts to school one day. Her brand-new boobs seem to have appeared overnight. The mosquito bites have all the boys atwitter and Brian can't really muster the energy to care.

He makes the travel soccer team that year, and he knows that it's because of him that the team's undefeated that season. He's a kick-ass forward.

He can tell the coach wants him. The guy's thirty-five, maybe younger. He glances at Brian longingly. Places his hand on Brian's shoulder and leaves it there a few seconds too long. Team sports are supposed to teach the value of working well in groups, but what Brian's learning mostly is that men want him.


Brian's no older than ten and he's beginning to realize that his dad's kind of pathetic. He goes to parent-teacher conferences and hits on Brian's teacher, a pretty young thing fresh out of college, her hair in a chic ponytail that doesn't really make her look any older. She squirms uncomfortably under his leer.

He vows then that he won't grow up to be like his father. Married before he's twenty-five and miserable.

His father echoes what he's thinking.

"Don't ever settle down, sonny boy" his father tells him drunkenly one night. "You'll be tied down forever by some bitch and a couple of kids." He doesn't remember it the next day. But Brian does. He promises himself that he won't ever let himself be limited like that. And it gets even easier when he realizes he's gay.

It's not like a lightning bolt epiphany that strikes one day. I am gay. Not like waking up one morning and finding a zit on his chin. No. It's more gradual than that.

He's smart as fuck and he can make connections. He can see that all the boys drool over Grace's new tits, and he doesn't care, which has to mean something. Mikey reads all those comic books that feature hot men in tight clothes, and it's certainly not for the plot.


It's another story when he gets to high school. There's public showers after gym class. For the first year, he's walking around half-hard all the time. It's a wonder that he gets onto the principal's list all four quarters. Actually no, it's not, because he's fucking smart as hell and deserves some recognition.

That Brian doesn't believe in love stories is a given. He barely even believes in love.

It's like this. Sure, Justin's a creepy stalker and Brian's underwear goes missing the day after he fucks Justin. That's just weird. The kid obviously finds him irresistible though, and it's pretty hard to resist someone who finds you irresistible. Especially when he's so obvious about it.

After awhile, Brian gives up insisting that he doesn't enjoy Justin's great ass, his enthusiasm, his sincerity. Not out loud, of course, because if he ever did, the earth would cease revolving on its axis and all the world's lakes would turn to blood. It would be terrible.

Then one day, Babylon turns into a war-zone. Brian declares marriage, and Justin agrees. Brian can sell anything, though it's really unfair to turn his amazing powers of persuasion on Justin. Usually he uses them to convince people to buy the right brand of toothpaste.

If he were smarter, less addled by over a decade of drinking and drugs and too-loud music, he'd realize that it's a stupid mistake to get married. Mostly he blocks out everything after 'I love you', Justin's breath-squeak and his big blue eyes.

Maybe we'll end up a couple of old queens in Palm Springs.

He flies out to New York; makes a stop over at Justin's. They spend two days fucking. Justin blows him for the fifth time that Saturday, and after Brian has come and is basking in the post-coital haze, Justin reaches for his sketchbook and starts drawing him.

It's almost like old times again. Except that his hair's longer and he's five years older.

Brian flies back to Pittsburgh that night. He doesn't get sentimental on the plane. Instead, as soon as he lands, he calls Cynthia and tries to assess the damage Ted has caused to Kinnetik.

It's not even in him to mourn the lack of Justin. He is pretty miserable without regular great sex though. Sloppy backroom blowjobs don't cut it, somehow.


Michael and Ben are the poster couple. Better than Gay as Blazes, raising the little hustler up right. Debbie ropes him into endless PFLAG functions where he speaks about his experiences as a teenage hustler. Mothers and aunts cluck over him. They try to set him up with their daughters. And their sons. Mostly he says no.

He still hits on Brian shamelessly. Tough luck, kid. Brian's only got room for one fanboy with a mouth like a Hoover in his life.


Did you expect a happy ending?

Brian will always be who he wants to be; which is to say, fabulously successful, narcissistic to a fault and entirely too fond of bad innuendo. Justin will still be the twink that changed things. He won't get wrinkles until he's about fifty and he'll take every opportunity to point this out, and Brian will grit his teeth a lot.

And then he will drag Justin to bed and fuck his brains out.

He'll always do exactly what he wants. Men have wanted him for his entire life, but he's beginning to come to terms with the fact that he mostly wants Justin in his life.

And the entire fall Prada collection in his closet.