Random Musings of a Slash Addict

Trinity Summer - Chapter 5

2009-11-07T02:20:15Z

Disclaimer: I do not know Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki,or anyone else in this story, mores the pity, nor do I have any claim to them. (Now I’m really depressed!) That said, I feel I can safely say that none of this happened, and if it did, I would more then likely be the last one to know anyway! Written for NaNoWriMo 2009.
Feedback: Yes please...
Warnings: AU, Angst, Slash, Mild peril, violence

My Progress Thus Far!

8366 / 50000 words. 17% done!

Previous Chapter

Trinity Summer

Chapter 5

How do I let Chad talk me into these things? Jared thought; as he lay in the dark listening to Jensen breathe on the other side of the cabin.

When Chad had first asked him to switch with him at dinner so that he could be paired up with Matt, Jared’s first instinct had been to say no, his ego still being a bit raw that Chad had so easily found someone that he seemed to prefer spending time with rather then hanging out with Jared.

However, as he looked at Chad, and saw the way he and Matt seemed to be drawn together, like flies to a lamp, he just couldn’t find it in himself to refuse his friend the chance to spend the next two weeks with a man that he seemed so genuinely attracted too, especially since Matt seemed to be attracted to him as well.

So, after a few minutes of token protest, Jared had switched sticks with Chad, and at the end of the meeting they had approached Kim and requested that their assigned pairings be changed. When Chad approached him and informed him of the change, Matt seemed pleased with the idea.

For his part, Jensen, when Jared told him about the switch didn’t seem to have any particular feelings about it either way. He had simply nodded and said, “It’s all good.” Before turning and walking away toward the cabins.

As he lay there thinking about it, Jared had to admit to feeling a bit disappointed about Jensen’s lack of reaction. Although he wasn’t exactly ready to declare his instant attraction to the man, and at this point he wasn’t even close to wanting to explore it, he had to admit that there was a tiny little part of him that had hoped it might be mutual. Jensen’s ‘whatever’ attitude made it pretty clear that was most likely not the case.

Sighing, Jared turned over restlessly, and plumped up his pillow for the third time. He knew that they had an early start tomorrow, and if he didn’t get some rest soon he was going to be lagging. Tomorrow’s leg of the trip was going to consist primarily of crossing Lake Livingston. According to Karl and Joe, the guides that would be accompanying them on the trip, they would reach the Trinity River outlet sometime in the late afternoon, and would stop for the night at around 7 pm. That would make for a long physically taxing day, and even as physically fit as Jared was, he knew that he would be seriously lagging if he didn’t get some rest.

Unfortunately, sleep seemed to be eluding him. Glancing at his watch, he saw that is was nearly 2:00 am, which meant he had been laying there thinking and trying to sleep for nearly 4 hours. Heaving another sigh, he sat up on the side of his bunk, slid his jeans on over the gym shorts he had worn to bed, and tiptoed in his bare feet over to the door where he had left his socks and shoes the night before. Opening the door, and grabbing a flashlight, he went to step out on the tiny porch in front of the cabin he and Jensen were assigned to. Suddenly he jumped hard and dropped his shoes and the flashlight when a voice behind him startled him.

“No need to sneak. They won’t send you home to mom and dad if you are out after curfew ya know.”

Jensen’s voice was gravelly and hoarser the usual, and held a bit of amusement.

“I wasn’t sneaking!” Jared replied, thankful for the darkness that hid the burning blush he felt on his cheeks, because that was exactly what he had been doing. “I just didn’t want to wake you up. Considering we are sharing a canoe, I figured at least one of us ought to have had a good night’s rest.”

Rather then a reply, Jared heard the rustle of bed clothes and then footsteps as Jensen crossed the room.

“Well, now that I am awake,” Jensen asked, “where are you off too?”

“I thought I would take a walk down by the lake.” Jared said, backing away a little and watching as Jensen pulled his own jeans, socks and boots on before standing and turning on the flashlight he had retrieved from the floor.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, shining the light out the door and turning to grin at Jared.

Jared felt a little thrill of excitement at the thought of walking in the dark with Jensen and quickly squashed it down with a swift mental yell of ‘He’s straight, dumbass!’

“No… that’s fine with me.” He replied, and was surprised at how even and normal his voice sounded, even though the butterflies in his stomach were playing hell with his pulse.

Jensen waved his hand out the door in an ‘after you’ gesture and Jared walked out the door of the cabin in the general direction of the lake. When they reached the shoreline, the light from the moon illuminating the area and making the strip of beach that lined the area between the water and the trees light up, Jensen shut off the flashlight, and the two men stood quietly looking out over the water at the silvery path the moonlight made across the flat surface of the lake.

After a few minutes of standing silently, Jensen cleared his throat and said in his hoarse voice. “So… Steve Carlson…?”

Jared tensed, and continued looking out over the water, contemplating whether he wanted to unload his sordid story on the man he just happened to be crushing on. Finally, almost against his will, the words began to flow.

“I graduated from Texas A&M about 3 weeks ago.”

“Really?” Jensen interrupted, “I graduated from the A&M last year. Odd that I never saw you on campus. What did you major in?”

“Education.” Jared said, “with a minor in Child Psychology.”

“That’s probably why, I majored in Physical Therapy with a minor in Sports Medicine. Different departments. Anyway… continue.” Jensen said and turned to look at Jared while he spoke.

“Yeah… so… anyway. My sophomore year I met this girl, pretty little thing, long black hair, brown eyes. Everything I was brought up to believe I should be looking for, ya know what I mean. We clicked right off. Ended up spending pretty much every minute outside class together. We even ended up landing jobs at the same off campus coffee house. I had all my plans made, ya know. Graduate, work for a year at this high school in Austin for troubled teens. Already got the job all lined up and everything. Then when Sandy graduated we’d get married. She’s gonna be a Social Worker, so we planned to continue to work together, maybe open a center for troubled kids or something. Build a little house, have a couple of kids, maybe a dog or two. Was gonna be a sweet little life.” Jared turned at this, looking at Jensen for his reaction. When he saw the pensive look on Jensen’s face, he waited to see if he was going to say anything. When he hadn’t spoken after a few moments, Jared turned back to the water and continued.

“We were together 3 years. Things were good, ya know. We were happy. Or at least I was anyway, and I thought she was too. Then about 3 weeks before graduation she started acting weird. Ya know, girly weird. Getting all clingy one minute and then acting like I had the plague the next.”

Jared heard Jensen make a derisive noise that sounded a bit like a snort at his ‘girly weird’ comment, but by that point he was beginning to feel keyed up, and he knew if he didn’t keep talking he wouldn’t be able to get the whole story out, and, though he didn’t know why, he had a feeling that it was important for him to finish telling Jensen his story.

“I just figured it was nerves, ya know. That she was freaking out about the fact that we would be in different places this summer, and wouldn’t have as much time together next year. I thought she’d get over it. Thought that right up until she didn’t show for my graduation, and I went to her place, thinking she had to be sick right, I mean why else would she just not show up at the most important event in my life so far?”

Here Jared laughed, a bitter, hurt sound that startled even him, and he felt Jensen’s hand land lightly on his shoulder. A friendly gesture of comfort that meant more to Jared at that moment then he could even understand himself. Swallowing past the lump that was forming in his throat, Jared took a deep breath and pushed on the finish the story.

“Yeah, well… I was wrong. She wasn’t sick… she was in bed with Carlson! While I stood on that podium, worrying about her, and thinking that she must be really sick, imagining having to rush her to the ER even, she was screwing that… that…!”

His voice cut off at that point, and he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

“Whoa there!” Jensen said, the hand on Jared’s shoulder squeezing.

The comforting squeeze helped Jared to bolster his reserve of calm, and he continued on.

“So yeah… I guess you know that that was the end of that. Sandy admitted that she and Steve had been fucking for about a month, I took back the engagement ring that I had bought and was planning to give her that night, and that was the end of that. Chad and I planned this trip as a getaway before I start working for my dad this summer because we me starting work in September there won’t be much time for us to just hang out anymore. I honestly don’t want to be here, but Chad’s been a good friend to me, and has been listening to my crap about the break-up for that last 3 weeks with almost no complaint and I couldn’t let him down.”

“That sucks, man!” Jensen said, “I had a feeling it was something like that though. Steve’s infamous for the relationship’s he’s broken up, and he’s not real picky about which sex he hooks up with, ya know.”

“How do you know him?” Jared asked. The words ‘Who’s Chris?’ on the tip of his tongue.

“A few years ago pretty much the same thing happened to me. I came home from class to find him in bed with my boyfriend, Chris. That’s the guy he’s here with. Thank goodness they got paired up in a tent. At least Steve can’t cause too much trouble if he’s with Chris all day.”

Wait… what? “Boyfriend…?” Jared asked, cringing at the tiny squeak his voice made at the end of the word.

“Uh… yeah… I’m gay, man. Sorry I didn’t mention it before, but I guess I figured… well, after watching your friend and Matt make google eyes all through dinner, and Mike and Tom climb each other like trees, I guess I figured you wouldn’t care. I can talk to Kim in the morning and try to change the assignments if you want…”

“They said that last night was the last chance.” Jared interrupted, suddenly feeling anxious, confused and nervous. Jensen wasn’t straight… Chris was a guy…

Holy shit! “Besides,” Jared continued, “your right, I don’t have a problem with it.”

Smiling and nodding, Jensen turned and started walking a little way down the shoreline. For a few minutes, Jared simply stood and watched him; the way the moonlight lit up his hair and gave his skin a silvery, unearthly glow. Then Jensen turned and called in a low voice, “You coming, Jared?”

Without giving it a moments thought, Jared smiled, the first real smile that he felt all the way from his heart to his mouth in nearly a month, and strode quickly over to catch up.

They walked in companionable silence for a bit before Jensen suddenly put up a hand to stop Jared, and placed a finger over his lips to silence his questions.

Pointing toward the tree line, Jensen leaned up and whispered in amusement into Jared’s ear, his breath brushing across Jared’s ear and causing a crop of goose bumps to pop up on Jared’s arms.

“Looks like we aren’t the only ones that couldn’t sleep!”

Following the line of Jensen’s pointing finger, Jared spotted what had made him stop.

Leaned up against a big tree, limbs intertwined, hands buried in each others hair, and lips sealed so tight it was a wonder neither had passed out yet from lack of oxygen, were Chad and Matt.

Next Chapter

Master List Of My Fic

Trinity Summer - Chapter 4

2009-11-05T08:14:23Z

Title: Trinity Summer
Rating: NC-17, for m/m sex, and language
Pairing: J2, Chad Michael Murray/Matt Czuchry, Chris Kane/Steve Carlson, Tom Welling/Mike Rosenbaum
Summary: After breaking up with his girlfriend of 3 years, Jared lets himself get talked into taking a canoe trip with his best friend Chad down the Trinity River. What starts out as a reluctant vacation might just change his life forever.
Disclaimer: I do not know Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki,or anyone else in this story, mores the pity, nor do I have any claim to them. (Now I’m really depressed!) That said, I feel I can safely say that none of this happened, and if it did, I would more then likely be the last one to know anyway! Written for NaNoWriMo 2009.
Feedback: Yes please...
Warnings: AU, Angst, Slash, Mild peril, violence
Authors Note: I am so proud of myself... this part is the longest yet at 2,540 words! I am trying to make up for a few of the days that I have come up short. A few more days like this one and I might be able to pull ahead of myself and give myself some breathing room!

My Progress Thus Far!

6228 / 50000 words. 12% done!

Previous Chapter

Trinity Summer

Chapter 4

Jared sat in the dinning hall and listened to the chatter of voices swirling around him. He had spent most of the afternoon after lunch doing his best to avoid another run in with Steve, and keeping a diligent watch out for the man Steve had called Jensen.

The more he sat and thought about it, the more he wondered just how similar his situation with Steve and Sandy was to what Steve had done to Jensen and this ‘Chris’ Steve had mentioned. Was Chris Jensen’s girlfriend? Had Steve stolen her the way he had stolen Sandy? Jared had a feeling that was what had happened, and he wondered at the feeling of disappointment he felt at the thought of Jensen having had a girlfriend for Steve to steal.

Come’on now Padalecki… keep it together. He thought, giving himself a mental shake. Sure, the man was hot as hell, anyone would eyes could see that, but that didn’t mean that Jared could just start mooning over him. Chances are, considering the conversation he had overheard earlier, and the fact that Steve had stolen his girlfriend as well, Jensen was straight. With that in mind, Jared stopped his search for the man amongst the crowd, and turned his attention to the others at his table.

He and Chad sat on one side of a number of picnic tables that had been scattered about in the dinning hall. On the other side of the table were the two men that Jared had seen unloading their car earlier that day. Jared had learned during dinner, which had turned out to be burgers and hot dogs cooked on two big industrial sized barbeques grills located in the back courtyard that separated the main cabin from the row of bunkhouses that lined the back yard and separated the main cabin from the lake, that the taller of the two was named Tom, and his friend’s name was Mike.

Any doubts that Jared may have had about what the relationship between the two of them might be were cleared up quickly when Mike had announced just after sitting down that he and Tom had just bought a house together and were thinking about having a commitment ceremony to celebrate the purchase.

Jared had smiled at him, and taken a big bite of his burger to show that he had no issues with this news. Chad on the other hand, had shocked Jared yet again when he began asking all sorts of questions about their plans for the ceremony. At the time, Jared had been concentrating on spotting Jensen amongst the others entering the hall with their plates that he hadn’t spared more then a passing thought about the fact that it was odd that Chad would show so much interest in gay weddings.

Jared was well aware of Chad’s sexual orientation. He had been the first one to learn of Chad’s discovery that he “liked dick… a lot!” At the time, they had been 15, and Jared hadn’t really thought too much of his own tendency to get just a turned on by the pictures of naked men in the porn mags stashed in his closet then as he did by the pictures of the women. After Chad’s announcement, he and Jared had talked a bit about the whole ‘gay’ issue, and decided to try an experiment.

They had snuck into Jeff’s bedroom and stolen some of his pot stash, climbed out Jared’s bedroom window and snuck out to his tree house, where they had gotten stoned off their asses, and proceeded to jerk each other off. The results of the experiment had ended up showing them that they did indeed both tend toward being attracted to men, but not necessarily to each other. This conclusion was reached because of the amount of laughter between them, and the complete lack of orgasm on both their parts; though neither had any problems once they gave it up as a lost cause and simply broke out the gay porn and jerked off together.

Jared had been nervous the next day for fear that his best friend might hate him after the ‘experiment’, but the fact of the matter was, Chad simply walked up to him in the hall at school, slapped him on the back and said, “Crazy shit last night, eh?”

When Jared had agreed, Chad had changed the subject, and that was the only acknowledgement either of them had needed. By unspoken agreement they had decided they were friends and nothing more and they hadn’t spoken about it again.

Two weeks later Jared began dating the head cheerleader for the junior varsity basketball team, and Chad started dating the president of the drama club. A year later, Jared had sat at the kitchen table at Chad’s house, there to lend moral support to Chad when he came out to his parents. It had turned out that Chad’s fears had been for not. Basically his parents had just looked at him after he announced that he was gay, and planned to live with his boyfriend at college.

After a few moments of silence, his father had asked him if he planned to hog all the potatoes, and his mother had asked what his boyfriend’s name was. Chad had simply gaped at them in shock for a moment before he handed his dad the bowl of potatoes and responded to his mother’s question. And that was that! Chad was out, and every single one of the scenarios he had imagined over the last week as they had planned this particular meal… the crying, the screaming and yelling, the banishing and disowning… none of it had happened… not a single, solitary repercussion.

That right there, Chad’s parent’s non-reaction to the news that their only son was gay and moving in with his lover, that was at the root of Jared’s decision to stay firmly in the closet. That and the fact that though he was attracted to men, for the most part he found himself more attracted to women.

Jared loved his family, there was no question about that, however, his family was very much the reactionary type. Where Chad’s parents had taken the news in stride with it causing barely a ripple in the pond of their lives, Jared’s family would react in all the ways that Chad had imagined his family reacting and most likely even more so, with the news causing a tidal wave of repercussions.

Not that Jared expected that his parents or siblings would hate him, not after having been given time to accept it, but mostly because he knew that it would shock and worry them, and it just didn’t seem worth it for a fleeting attraction here and there.

So even though Jared was well aware that Chad was unquestionably gay, he had never so much as mentioned in a passing way having any interest whatsoever in getting married.

The relationship that had compelled him to come out before college had lasted another 6 months before they had split, and to the best of Jared’s knowledge there had only been causal dating and a few random hook-ups since. Therefore, Chad’s interest in marriage was surprising.

As he sat contemplating this, Jared noticed that the people around him were beginning to clear their tables, and two men stood in front of the room, one holding a large stack of papers, and the other holding a hat and several bundles of what looked like popsicle sticks held together with rubber bands.

Stepping forward the man with the sticks placed his items on the small table at the front of the room, and waved his hands for quiet. Quickly the room quieted down, and the man said with a smile, “Hello there all, and thanks for choosing Kripke and Manners for your vacation. We’re gonna get started with the orientation now. My name is Eric, and I am the Kripke part of this outfit, this here is Kim,” he said, gesturing to the other man, “and he is the Manners half. Don’t let that fool ya though… I’m the nice one of the two.” He said with an impish grin and a nod of his head.

This caused a ripple of laughter to go through the room, which Jared supposed was the desired effect.

“Ok,” Eric continued. First we’re gonna break you up into groups based on which tour you are signed up for. After that, Kim is going to assign you your partner for the trip. This is the person with which you will be sharing both a canoe and a tent for the duration. I trust most of you have gotten to know the other members of your tour group over the course of the afternoon, since most of you arrived before lunch, and have a fairly good idea of who you may or may not be able to get along with.”

When he said this, he caught Jared’s eye, and Jared felt himself squirming with the knowledge that the director’s must have seen the altercation between him, Steve and Jensen earlier in the day. For some reason, even though he himself was the victim in that whole scenario, this made Jared feel profoundly guilty. At the same time it made him feel nervous. What if he ended up paired up with Steve? Could he spend two weeks trapped in a canoe all day and a tent all night for two weeks with the man? The answer was no, and Jared decided then and there that if he was paired with him he would leave, non-refundable deposit be damned! Having made that decision, he returned the director’s look with a determined one of his own.

“We ask if there are any desired changes in assignments that you request them before we depart tomorrow morning. Once the group leaves the dock, there will be no changes in boat/tent assignments. It is important that there be an accurate list of who is paired with whom here at the main office in case of accident, injury or other catastrophe.”

A murrmer of conversation went around the room at this last part, and Eric chuckled and added. “Not that we expect a catastrophe, and there has never been one in the 20 years we’ve been running tours of the Trinity, but it never hurts to be prepared, right Kim.”

The other man nodded, and this seemed to calm the ripple of nerves that had gone around the room.

“Now then,” Eric continued after everyone had settled down again, “Kim is going to pass out the rules and safety guides. In the meantime, I want you all to split up into groups based on the number you were given for your particular tour at the time that you paid your deposit. That number can be found on the upper left hand corner of your confirmation page…”

Jared and Chad were in Tour group number 1, so they made their way to the table marked with a 1. Already seated at the table was a blonde haired man about Chad’s height, maybe a bit shorter, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Jared extended his hand to shake with the other man who stood and introduced himself as Matt. Returning the introduction, Jared sat across from him in a chair and turned to introduce Chad only to discover that his friend was still standing a few feet away from the chair staring as if memorized Matt.

“Chad…” Jared said, his voice slightly amused, “Dude!” A ripple of something like awareness seemed to pass over Chad’s face, and he slowly extended his hand and mumbled in a manner so unlike Jared’s brash and forward friend that Jared wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it, “Ummm… Chad… my name’s Chad.”

Matt took the extended hand and shook it, introducing himself and saying, “Good to meet you Chad.”

Chad looked like he was about to say something else but, whatever it was, was interrupted by Tom and Mike joining their group, followed by, much to Jared’s dismay, Steve Carlson and another man, and as though to counteract the hit of having to deal with Steve for the next two weeks, their group was completed by the addition of the final member, Jensen.

As Jensen joined the group, Jared turned to say something to Chad, and was surprised to discover that Chad was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Matt. The two were talking away as though they had been introduced years ago rather then only about 5 minutes, and Jared couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. This trip was supposed to be about he and Chad spending some time together before work and life got in the way of their ability to just hang out. The thought that Chad might find someone else to spend time with on the trip, the trip that Jared didn’t even want to be on anymore, was a bit of a blow to Jared’s already sensitive ego.

Before he had any real time to think about it, Kim came up to their group with a bundle of the Popsicle sticks. He explained that each bundle held 4 sets of numbered sticks. Each person in the group was to choose a stick, and the person with the corresponding numbered stick would be their canoe and tent partner for the trip. He also explained that, if there was a problem with the match up’s any changes would need to be made before the end of the meeting tonight. After that the final list would be made, and no further changes could be made after that.

As the bundle of sticks went around the group, Jared found himself crossing his fingers, and praying that he would not end up stuck with Steve. He also noticed Mike and Tom casting hopeful glances at each other, and found himself hoping they would end up with partners other then each other. He knew it was childish, but something about how happy they were together was touching a nerve left still raw by his recent break-up, and it was beginning to grate.

When the bundle came to him, there were two sticks left, and with a final prayer sent heavenward, he chose a stick. With a sinking feeling of doom in his belly he looked up as the other members of the group matched up their sticks. To his chagrin and, now that it had happened, a teensy bit of relief, he saw that Mike and Tom had ended up as a pair. He felt a teensy bit of annoyance and another flash of jealousy when he noticed that Chad had ended up being paired with Jensen. However, his strongest feeling was that of relief when he saw that Steve had ended up paired with his friend, whose name Jared still hadn’t learned.

This left Jared paired with Chad’s new friend Matt. Jared wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Matt seemed nice enough though, so Jared decided to give it a shot.

All that changed when 20 minutes later, during the training session part of the orientation, Chad leaned over and whispered, “Trade sticks with me dude, I wanna be paired with Matt!”

Next Chapter

Master List Of My Fic

Trinity Summer - Chapter 3

2009-11-04T18:35:49Z

Disclaimer: I do not know Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki, mores the pity, nor do I have any claim to them. (Now I’m really depressed!) That said, I feel I can safely say that none of this happened, and if it did, I would more then likely be the last one to know anyway! Written for NaNoWriMo 2009.
Feedback: Yes please...
Warnings: AU, Angst, Slash, Mild peril, violence
Author's Note: This was actually posted yesterday... no really it was... but I couldn't get the formatting right so I gave up and decided to leave it private and try again today... stupid LJ-cut's never work right for me...
Author's Note 2: This is a bit longer then yesterday's... about 1,100 words but still too short... sorry! But there is more coming later today! I am about 400 words into today's part, so that will be up sometime later tonight!

My Progress Thus Far!

3689 / 50000 words. 7% done!

Previous Chapter

Trinity Summer

Chapter 3

Jared felt his surprise turning to anger as he watched the other man’s facial expression turn from shock to smug satisfaction.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Carlson?” he practically snarled, trying his best to resist the urge to beat that smug look off the other mans face.

“I could ask you the same thing, Jared,” he said, his voice taking on a mocking, sarcastic tone when he said the name, “thought you were gonna be playing cowboy this summer.” the other man sneered. His pleasure at Jared’s obvious struggle to hold himself back made Jared’s blood boil, and he started to lunge for the other mans face, fists coming up and getting ready to fly, when he felt a hand fall on his shoulder, causing him to halt his momentum. Whirling around, ready to rip whoever it was a new asshole for stopping him from beating the shit out of the man who had helped along the demise of his dreams for the future, he suddenly came to an abrupt halt when he saw who it was that had stopped him.

Standing in front of him was possibly the best looking man he had ever seen in his life.

Jared had never tried to fool himself; he knew he was attracted to men as well as women. He had just never, until now, found a man that he wanted badly enough to bother with the whole, ‘coming out’ process. Now though, even in the midst of his anger, perhaps even partially because of it, he found himself staring at the man in front of him, and, where just a moment ago he felt nothing but rage and hate, he now felt the stirrings of arousal. His gaze swept swiftly across the man’s face, taking in the green eyes framed by long lashes, the freckles that swept across his cheeks, and the pouty lips, while he fought the insane urge to blurt out, “Damn, man, can I kiss those things?” Though if asked he wasn’t sure if he meant the man’s lips, or the thousands of freckles that peppered his skin.

“Everything ok here, fellas?” Green eyes, asked, his voice deep and slightly hoarse, as though he had just woken and his throat was dry.

“Huh?” Jared replied, cringing inwardly at his lack of verbal prowess, and momentarily forgetting that he had been about to beat the crap out of another man that now stood forgotten behind him. Forgotten, that is, until Jared heard the snort of disgusted amusement from behind him, and his anger came flooding back.

“Christ, Padalecki… no wonder she wanted done with you,” Steve Carlson muttered, as Jared whirled back around. Before he could take that delayed and much desired swing, he felt that hand land on his shoulder again.

“Whoa, there!” Green eyes said, his voice firm but slight cajoling, “no point doing that! If they see you fighting, they’ll send you packing before you even get your bags from the bus!”

“Like I wanna be here and have to look at his face for the next two weeks.” Jared spat, feeling a bit like a kid throwing a temper tantrum, although he knew he had good reason to hate the other man.

Seeing the look of sympathetic confusion on the green-eyed man’s face, Jared felt his anger drain away and being replaced with defeat and maybe even a smidgen of self-pity if Jared was honest about it.

“Whatever,” he muttered, suddenly feeling too hot and tired to care who was there. Casting another glare in Steve’s direction, he turned and walked off toward the bus, where he spotted his backpack and duffle bag sitting outside the luggage compartment.

After he walked away, the green-eyed man turned to Steve and said, “Up to no good again I see. Chris know what you’ve been getting up too?”

“Screw off, Jensen!” Steve said, his voice harsh, all traces of humor now completely gone, “What I do is none of your fucking business, and leave Chris out of this…!”

“Whatever, Carlson.” Jensen replied, “But let me give you a little advice. I don’t know what you did to that kid, though I have a pretty good idea, but my thinking is that you might just want to steer clear of him. From the looks of things when I walked up, he was about ready to squash you like a grape. And from the looks of him…” he stopped there and turned to look as Jared picked up his bags and walked toward a shorter man with short cropped blonde hair with whom Jensen has seen him talking earlier.

He took in Jared’s body; tall, at least 6’4”, muscular broad shoulders and chest, narrow waist, flat stomach that Jensen suspected sported an impressive six-pack, and long legs encased in tight jeans that showed off a fantastic ass. For a minute, Jensen was so engrossed in his perusal of Jared’s attributes, that he forgot to continue what he was saying, however when he heard the sarcastic chuckle from beside him, he turned back and continued, “From the looks of him, he could do it to, probably wouldn’t even break a sweat!”

“Whatever!” Steve replied, “I’m not scared of him, and I’m not scared of you either, Ackles! You’re just sore because in the end Chris chose me over you!”

Jensen threw his head back and laughed at that, long and loud, drawing the gaze of everyone in the clearing.

“Sure thing, Carlson, you just go right on telling yourself that, ain’t no matter to me either way. But you remember what I said.” With that he turned and picked up his backpack and sleeping bag, which he had set on the ground when he moved to intervene earlier and walked away. As he passed his met Jared’s eyes, and smiled, then raised his hand above his left eye and gave him a two-fingered salute before turning and disappearing into the large cabin that housed the dining hall/orientation hall.

Jared watched him go, a feeling of confused interest churning in his belly. Who was he? He had heard that snake Steve call him Jensen, and from what he had overheard of their exchanged, it sounded like Steve had maybe done something to him similar to what he had done with Sandy. Jared’s curiosity was peeked, and he decided then and there to try to talk to Jensen later on.

Forcing down the little shiver of excitement that swept through his belly at the thought of talking to Jensen later on, he continued on his way to grab

Chad

so they could go inside and get some lunch. Oddly, for the first time since he had found Sandy and Steve together, he actually felt hungry.

Next Chapter

Master Fic List

Trinity Summer - Chapter 2

2009-11-03T07:55:44Z

Disclaimer: I do not know Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki, mores the pity, nor do I have any claim to them. (Now I’m really depressed!) That said, I feel I can safely say that none of this happened, and if it did, I would more then likely be the last one to know anyway! Written for NaNoWriMo 2009.
Feedback: Yes please...
Warnings: AU, Angst, Slash, Mild peril, violence
Author's Note: Ok, I know this is short, (only about 822 words, what can I say... the day sucked and no matter what I did I just couldn't get people to let me write... dammit!) and late for Day 2, and I debated just waiting and posting both day 2 and 3 together, but because I really want to do this, and do it right, I decided to go ahead and post this now and then post Day 3 later on today.

2566 / 50000 words. 5% done!
My Progress Thus Far!

Previous Chapter

Trinity Summer

Chapter 2

Jared stood beside the bus, his shoulders hunched and a grim look on his face as he watched the rest of the passengers grab their gear and head inside the large log cabin style building that housed Kripke and Manners Whitewater Tour Company.

In all there appeared to be about thirteen other people there for the tours that were leaving in the morning. Jared knew from reading the brochure’s, that each tour group consisted of eight members and two guides and that three groups left at a time, all taking different branches of the river and meeting up for the last leg into Trinity Bay. As he looked at the people milling about, he wondered which if any of them would be part of his group.

As he watched, Jared noticed two men unloading backpacks and a cooler from the trunk of a car. One of them was bent over, leaning nearly completely inside the trunk and handing things out behind his back to his companion, who was laughing and joking somewhat loudly. As the man in the trunk stood up straight, and leaned back, stretching his back and groaning as it apparently popped, Jared mused over the fact that he was nearly as tall as himself, not something he ran into often.

Suddenly he let out a loud “Ooff” and stumbled forward a bit as someone came up behind him and slapped him hard on the back while at the same time yelling in his ear, “Dude… is this gonna be awesome or what!”

“Fuck, Chad!” Jared replied, looking around and feeling his face heat up as he noticed some of the others looking at them, “would you quit sneaking up on me, and shut up already!”

“Shit man!” Chad said, his face creasing into a disapproving frown, “are you gonna keep up this whole, ‘broken man grump’ routine the whole trip, dude? Cause if you are, I might just pitch your sorry ass overboard on the first day!”

Seeing the look of combination anger and hurt that crossed Jared’s face as a he muttered, “Fuck-off, Chad… don’t start!” Chad’s demeanor softened a bit and he put his hand on Jared’s shoulder, squeezing in a slightly awkward consoling manner.

“Dude,” he began again, his voice lower this time, “I know the whole Sandy thing was tough, man, but don’t let that little… um,” he paused here, remembering the last time he had insulted Sandy, just after Jared discovered her with the prick she replaced him with, and the throb in his jaw from Jared’s right fist that still, a few weeks later, throbbed if he moved it wrong, Stupid chivalrous bastard, bitch deserved that insult and a hundred more for what she did to him, Chad thought quickly before he continued, “don’t let her ruin your summer man!”

“If its all the same to you, Chad, I’d just a’soon not talk about this right now!” Jared said, his voice heated before he realized that everyone was still looking at them, and witnessing this little exchange. Blushing again, he lowered his voice and said, “I’m here ok… I agreed to go on this trip even though all I really wanna do is drive off a cliff at the moment, so please, lay-off on the whole ‘commiserating friend’ bullshit, and just let me be ok!”

Chad sighed, and held his hands up in surrender, having learned to pick his battles when it came to Jared, who was not a violent person by nature, but could throw a hell of a right hook when provoked. Having no desire to add an ache to the other side of his jaw Chad decided to back off for a bit, “Fine, dude! You wanna be miserable, far be it for me to try and stop you. I’m just gonna go and see if I can find someone that is actually glad to be here to hang with for a bit.”

As he watched Chad turn and walk away, Jared began to feel like a king-sized douche. Chad really was a good friend, despite being outspoken and a bit of an ass most of the time, and he really was only trying to help.

“Chad!” Jared called out to his friend’s retreating back. When Chad turned around to see what he wanted, Jared tried his best to grin as convincingly as possible and said, “We good, man?”

Chad scoffed and rolled his eyes at Jared before waving his hand at him and saying over his shoulder, “Overboard the first day, dude… don’t doubt it for a minute, man!”

Laughing, Jared turned, and came a an abrupt halt, all the blood draining from his face as he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see… hadn’t seen since that terrible afternoon that he had seen his future trickle away as the man before him held Jared’s fiancé in his arms as Jared had walked away.

Next Chapter

Master Fic List

Trinity Summer - Chapter 1

2009-11-02T04:07:42Z

Title: Trinity Summer
Rating: NC-17, for m/m sex, and language
Pairing: J2, Chad Michael Murray/Matt Czuchry, Chris Kane/Steve Carlson, Tom Welling/Mike Rosenbaum
Summary: After breaking up with his girlfriend of 3 years, Jared lets himself get talked into taking a canoe trip with his best friend Chad down the Trinity River. What starts out as a reluctant vacation might just change his life forever.
Disclaimer: I do not know Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki, or anyone else in this story, mores the pity, nor do I have any claim to them. (Now I’m really depressed!) That said, I feel I can safely say that none of this happened, and if it did, I would more then likely be the last one to know anyway! Written for NaNoWriMo 2009.
Feedback: Yes please...
Warnings: AU, Angst, Slash, Mild peril, violence

Trinity Summer

Chapter 1

Jared stared moodily out the window of the bus as it made its way slowly down the twisting and bumpy dirt road.

How the hell did I let Chad talk me into this? He thought for probably the hundredth time since boarding the bus in downtown San Antonio that morning.

For the past two months, ever since Chad had proposed this trip, the plan had been that Jared’s dad would take them the four and a half hours to Dallas where Jared and Chad would embark upon a two week, four-hundred and thirty mile, guided canoe tour down the Trinity River, and Chad’s father would pick them up in Trinity Bay at the end of the trip. When Chad first brought up the subject, and showed him the brochures, Jared had liked the idea; the trip began three days after graduation, and he would arrive back two days before he had agreed to start working for his dad. It sounded like fun, and it would give him a chance to relax and unwind a bit before his summer belonged to the cattle.

The plans had changed abruptly less then a week before the trip, when Jared’s dad had been called out of town on business. Jared had been all for postponing the trip until his dad returned, mostly because by that time his life as he knew it, and his plans for the future had hit the skids, and he had lost all desire to go. When he mentioned postponing until the next slot, he hoped if they had to postpone Chad might forget about the whole thing. Chad had a habit of making plans on a whim and then breaking them on a moments notice.

Chad, however, had surprised Jared with his persistence, and refusal to explain why, when he had insisted that they had to go on this particular tour. Against Jared’s protests, Chad had arranged for them to be picked up by a bus that was run by the tour company, Kripke and Manner’s. Thus, the four and a half hour drive in his dad’s SUV with the comfy leather seats, four CD changer and air conditioning turned into an eight hour bus ride on a reconditioned school bus with rock hard seats, staticy radio that cut in and out the entire trip, no air conditioning and only five seat with windows that would open more then two inches, all of which had already been taken when the bus stopped to pick he and Chad up.

That in itself would have been bad enough, but when you add in the fact that the bus left San Antonio at 5:30 AM, after which it made a run to Dallas to pick up more passengers before backtracking slightly to Lake Livingston, at the head of the Trinity River, where Kripke and Manner’s was located, and the fact that the Texas weather, which had, up till then be quite fair for late June, picked that day to ratchet up to the high nineties, Jared couldn’t remember a time in his life when he felt more miserable. To add to his misery, the bus would be arriving at the tour company’s compound at about 1:30 PM, just in time for lunch with the tour guides and the company’s owners. Once lunch was over, the bus driver had informed them in an altogether too cheerful voice, the members of the tour group would spend the afternoon relaxing, checking in, readying their gear and getting acquainted with the others as they arrived.

Technically, they were not required to arrive until dinnertime, after which was a mandatory orientation meeting where canoe and tent assignments would be handed out along with all the necessary maps and instructions. Release forms were required to be handed in at that time, and then all members of the tour group would spend the night in the tour company’s lodge so that they would all be present and ready to leave on the tour at dawn the following day. Anyone not present for the mandatory orientation meeting would not be allowed to go on the tour, and would lose fifty percent of the $200 tour fee.

Jared had wanted to sleep in the day before they left, and be dropped off at the lodge around dinner time, just in time for the orientation meeting, after which he planned to go to bed early and avoid having to get to know his fellow canoer’s before it was strictly necessary. He had no intention of ‘mingling’ with the rest of the group. He simply wanted to lick his wounds and suffer in peace.

He wasn’t going on this trip willingly, not anymore. In fact, the only reason he had agreed to still go at all was because Chad had badgered him incessantly until he finally said yes just to shut him up. Now, as the bus topped a hill, and the lodge came into view, Jared heaved a sigh and wished he was anywhere but where he was.

~*~

All Jared really wanted to do over the summer was a whole lot of nothing. The excitement of his graduation from Texas A&M University and his plans for the summer and the start of his career had been dulled considerably by the ending of his 3 year relationship with the girl he had thought he was going to marry.

Sandy was everything he had grown up believing he wanted in a wife; beautiful, petite, smart, and funny. They had met the first week of school 3 years ago and it had been love at first sight. He was a sophomore, she a freshman. Before long, they were inseparable.

Everything had been going fine as far as Jared knew. Then, the last few months before graduation, Sandy had begun acting a little strange. Sometimes clinging to him like she was afraid to let go, and other times shying away from him as though she was afraid she might catch something if he got too close. Jared had chalked this up to nerves about his graduation, and uncertainty about the future.

Jared had few of these fears himself but he knew that he loved Sandy and wanted to spend the rest of this life with her, so, confident that Sandy felt the same, their relationship was not something he spent much time worrying about. Mostly, his thoughts and worries centered on the fact that he couldn’t wait to graduate and get his life started.

However, he could understand Sandy being nervous, she still had another year to go at the A&M, and he would be working in San Antonio on his father's ranch over the summer and then beginning his new position as a first year English teacher at Austin High School. He was particularly excited about this, because Austin High had a reputation for housing some of the most troubled teens in the city, and he couldn’t wait to get started and try to make a difference it the lives of kids with less advantages then he himself had had growing up.

Sandy had argued that she was hoping they might spend the summer together before being apart the following year, but Jared had already agreed to take the tour with Chad and work for his dad. He had felt bad at the time about disappointing Sandy, but as he pointed out to her, it was only for a few weeks and then they would be in the same city again. Her argument was that they would both be so busy when he returned that they would probably never see each other. Unfortunately, he had had to concede that she might have a point there.

Although they wouldn’t be living that far apart once he returned to Austin, they had gotten used to seeing each other every day and spending nearly every evening together. With Jared starting his teaching career and Sandy still taking classes, there would be little time for them to spend together in the coming months. Jared knew all this, and was aware that the adjustment would be tough but he was confident enough in his feelings for Sandy, that aside from a few nerves here and there, he felt they would be able to handle it like the adults they were.

Needless to say, it had been a huge blow to him when Sandy had told him that she thought they should see other people. Even then, Jared chalked it up to fear of separation and less time together. He figured that after a couple of days, Sandy would realize that herself and things would go back to the way they had originally planned.

As it turned out, Sandy had apparently had that 'other person' already in mind. A fact that Jared discovered quite by accident the day of his graduation. As he stood at the podium receiving his diploma, and listening to his older brother, Jeff and his younger sister, Megan, whooping loudly over the rest of the crowd’s applause, he had looked out over the crowd, trying to find Sandy. When he found seat two-hundred and ten, the number that had been on the ticket he had kept out for her out of the ones reserved for him because it was closest to the stage, the chair was empty.

Later, after being congratulated a million times by what seemed like a million people, and having had his picture taken by nearly every one, Jared had broken away from the well wishers and quickly made his way to Sandy’s dorm, thinking that she was probably ill and that was why she didn’t show up for his much anticipated graduation. When his concerned knocking had turned frantic and there was still no answer at her door, Jared reached up above the doorframe and fished down the key he had hidden there for just such and occasion. Opening the door quietly, he tiptoed in and made his way to Sandy’s room. Inching the door open so he wouldn’t wake her if she was sleeping, Jared peaked around the door frame, Sandy’s name on his lips. The breath of air that had began its life as the name of the women he thought to marry came out instead as a loud gasp as he took in the sight in front of him. Lying in Sandy’s bed, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, was Jared’s fiancé, and a man that Jared had never seen before in his life.

~*~

Next Chapter

Secrets And Lies - Chapter 1

2008-08-09T02:49:16Z

Title: Secrets And Lies
Rating: NC-17 overall, for m/m sex, and language
Pairing: J2, brief Jensen/Danneel Harris
Summary: What would you do if everything you thought was the truth turned out to be a horrible lie.
Disclaimer: I do not know Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki, mores the pity, nor do I have any claim to them. (Now I’m really depressed!) That said, I feel I can safely say that none of this happened, and if it did, I would more then likely be the last one to know anyway! Written for the j2_spn_100days community.
Feedback: Yes please...
Author's Note: I have no idea who wrote or originally sang ‘You Are My Sunshine’ from which I have borrowed lyrics to head this part and end the last chapter. The version from which I have borrowed was done by Stine J. and appeared in a Season 5 Episode of ‘Queer as Folk’.

Author’s Note 2: I don’t know Danneel Harris. I am sure she is a perfectly lovely person, and I mean no harm to her at all. However, for the purposes of this story, she is not a very nice person.

Author’s Note 3: This story is in parts… and there is more coming! I know that is not really how this is supposed to work, but very little in my life is going the way it is ‘supposed to’ these days. Sorry… but I hope the story itself will make up for the delay.

Warnings: AU, Angst, Contrived Character Death, Mild Violence, Slash, Very Mild Het Sex.

Secrets and Lies

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
And I hung my head and cried.

~ Stine J.

Chapter 1

Dallas, Texas – July 2000

A gentle knocking broke thorough the sweet haze of his mind, and he pushed it away, refusing to let himself be pulled from his memories.

A louder knock this time, more insistent.

“Jensen… honey you need to eat something…” His mother’s voice floated into his room through his thick bedroom door, and washed over him. Although he heard it, and recognized the concern in his mother’s voice, he remained quiet and still, his mind too swamped with sweet memories and refusal to allow reality to enter.

Suddenly pulled completely from his memories as the door to his room was flung open, Jensen turned his head into the pillow to shield his eyes from the bright light streaming in through the door.

“Jensen!” He heard his father bark from the doorway, and reluctantly turned his head, knowing that his father would not relent unless he acknowledged him. Blinking owlishly he said in a dull, cracked and listless voice. “Yes, Sir?”

Stomping into the room, his father crossed to the curtains and whipped them open, revealing a bright orange Texas sunset. Turning back around, he crossed to the bed and stood at the foot.

“There will be no more of this nonsense!” His father began, his voice clearly conveying that he would allow no argument.

“I understand from your mother that you and this Pada… Padales…” His father stumbled over the name, and Jensen turned to look blankly at his mother as she said in a hushed voice, “Padalecki, dear, his name was Jared Padalecki.”

“Yes, yes, whatever!” His father continued, waving his hand dismissively as though the name, and in fact the person was of very little importance, and Jensen felt his stomach clench painfully at the slight.

“I understand that you and this boy were acquaintances, and his death has come as a shock to you. However, the funeral was two days ago and here you lay, in the dark, and still dressed in the clothes you wore to it. This behavior is unacceptable, and it ends now. You will get up from that bed, shower and present yourself at the dinner table. Tomorrow morning you will report to the office and resume your internship. Am I making myself clear?”

Jensen opened his mouth to argue, the numbness that had come to live in his chest and head overshadowed for the moment by hot anger at his father’s obvious uncaring and disregard for the fact that Jensen had less than a week ago lost his best friend to a senseless and tragic accident.

“Dad…” He began his tone bitter.

“I will hear no more about it… you will do as I have said, and you will do it now!” His father proclaimed, before stomping from the room and leaving Jensen alone with his mother.

Jensen sighed loudly and flopped back onto the bed, his eyes coming to rest on the framed photo on his nightstand. The picture was of him and Jared, taken at their graduation from Texas A&M University just a month before. Clothed in their caps and gowns and holding their diplomas proudly. Jensen’s face was flushed and he was smiling happily as Jared rested his arm across his back, and seemed to only have eyes for Jensen.

The feelings of pain and loss that he had managed to hold at bay for a short time came rushing back, and he once again felt the prickle of tears begin behind his eyelids.

Jensen felt the bed dip as he mother came to sit beside him, and he felt the cool pressure of her reassuring hand as she gently rubbed his back and stroked his hair.

“Darling,” She said her voice sympathetic and soothing, “I know how very hard this has been for you. Jared was a wonderful young man and the two of you were so…” she paused for a moment as though looking for the words, and Jensen held his breath. Fear coursed through him at what his mother might say… what she might possibly have guessed.

“…close.” She finally concluded, though something in her voice indicated that that perhaps was not what she had wanted to say. She squeezed his shoulder gently and continued. “I know that your father seems harsh, and perhaps he doesn’t quite understand how you are feeling, but please don’t think too badly of him. He doesn’t know any other way to be.”

Jensen lay quietly on the bed, listening to his mother’s words, and steeling himself to do what his father had instructed. He knew there was no other choice.

At last when he did not respond to her consoling, Jensen’s mother sighed sadly, patted him on the shoulder and left the room, reminding him gently as she left that dinner was in 30 minutes.

August 2008, Dallas, Texas

Shaky, sweaty fingers fumble hurriedly with stubborn buttons and the rasp of a zipper is drowned out by hoarse gasps and whispered curses against wet, kiss swollen lips…

…bodies press together tighter and fingers clench and brush restlessly over smooth, slick skin…

…soft words are whispered hotly into burning ears, drawing forth mewling sighs and reciprocated expressions of emotion, and desire…

“…God Jay… please… want you so bad… love you… need you…”

“…yeah Jen… oh yeah… God yes… Jen… fuck… you feel so good… so hot… so tight… Jesus… close… so close… love you so damn much, baby… fuck… Jen”

“… yeah baby… oh god… yeah… Jay… love you…love you…”

“Jensen.”

A female voice broke through the masculine moans and heated whispers of Jensen’s dream, and he grunted, pulling away from the hand that shook his shoulder, trying desperately to remain in the hazy realm of pleasure his mind had created.

“Jensen!” The voice spoke more harshly this time, and a hand shook his shoulder hard, nails digging into his arm. With a groan Jensen gave up and cracked open an eye to look at the owner of the voice.

Smooth shiny red hair framed a beautiful face before trailing down her back in silky waves. Not so much as a tiny blemish marred her complexion, and with a internal grumble of distaste for which he felt immediate guilt, Jensen wondered for the hundredth time how anyone could sleep for 9 hours and wake up looking like she just stepped off the front of a fashion magazine.

That beautiful face was, however, at this moment marred with lines of anger and disgust.

“Who the hell is Jay?” Danneel Harris stormed at him as she swung herself from the bed and flounced across the room. Jensen winced as he watched her stomp around the room completely naked.

“Jay?” Jensen asked, a tiny shiver of fear slithering through his stomach.

“Yes, Jay!” Danneel hissed, swinging around and standing with her hands on her hips, “You wake me up at all hours of the night moaning and humping the damn bed like some disgusting, out of control mongrel, and as if that’s not bad enough, you are crying out someone else’s name and telling them you love them!”

“Danny…” Jensen began, fighting to regain his thoughts and clear his still sleep muddled head.

“Oh my fucking GOD!” Danneel interrupted, her voice an outraged screech, “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that! My name is Danneel… not some stupid boy’s nickname!”

“Ok honey, I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t like that nickname.” Jensen cajoled, crossing the room and trying to wrap a robe around her shoulders. Almost violently, she shrugged the robe off, and shoved her way past him.

“You still haven’t told me who the hell this Jay person is yet!” Danneel stated, seemingly ignoring his apology and his attempts to get her to cover herself.

Jensen swallowed, and searched his still somewhat confused brain for a plausible answer that the furious woman in front of him would accept.

“Jay…” he paused to swallow a lump that suddenly seem to form out of nowhere in his throat as he stated the name consciously for the first time in a very long time. “Jay is just someone that I knew a long time ago, sweetheart. Long before you and I met. We knew each other in college, dated for a couple of years. There was a car accident, not long after we graduated. Jay’s parents and siblings… Jay… they didn’t make it.” Jensen’s voice trailed off at this last part, the lump in his throat now firmly lodged.

“Well then why the hell are you dreaming about some dead girl for, and what kind of woman allows herself to be given a nickname like that anyway…? Jay… what was she some kind of dyke?”

Jensen felt a surge of anger at her pettiness, and wanted nothing more then to grab her by the neck and shake her until her eyes rattled in her pretty little head. He so wanted to tell her what a selfish, cruel and spiteful bitch she was, and demand that she never speak of Jay in that manner again… that Jay had been the best person that he had ever known, and that Jensen had loved him more then he had ever loved anyone else in his life.

Much as he wanted to say all those things, shock her with the knowledge that his first and only real love had been a man, he swallowed down his anger. Forced it past the lump of sadness in his throat, and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know why I dreamt about Jay. I can’t control what I dream about, Danneel!” Although the words did come out a bit harsh and snappish, they held little of the heat that he had felt moments earlier.

Danneel glared at him for a moment before she said in her quiet, no nonsense, ‘you better do it or else’ voice, “I suggest you think more about me, and less about some girl that died eight years ago!”

“Yes, sweetheart.” Jensen conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

“Fine!” Danneel said, her voice smug with the knowledge that she had once again proven to Jensen just who was in charge in their relationship. “Maybe now we can go back to bed.”

Walking past him on her way back to the bed, Danneel traced a fingernail across Jensen’s bicep and gave him one of her patented smoldering looks. “and I can show you just what I can give you that your precious dead girl can’t.”

Jensen suppressed a shudder as he followed her back to the bed and slid between the silk sheets, steeling himself for what was coming and desperately pretending that the hands that caressed him and the mouth on his body belonged to the owner of sparkling, lust filled hazel eyes and shaggy brown hair whose image swam across his memory.

When she climbed on top of him and began to ride him, he closed his eyes and imagined long muscular legs clutched against his hips and big calloused hands running across his chest and pinching his nipples instead of tiny soft feminine hands. When he reached his climax he bit his lip until it bled to keep himself from once again crying out another’s name.

When it was over, and Danneel had turned away, Jensen lay on his side, his back toward her and listened until her soft breathing turned into tiny kittenish snores. When at last he was sure that she was asleep once again, he closed his eyes and whispered in a low broken voice, “God, Jay, I miss you so much…” as a single tear ran down his cheek.

Jensen sat at his desk in the Vice-Presidential wing of the Ackles Oil tower with his head slumped into his palms.

Even though he had eventually gone back to sleep the night before, he had awoken with a headache and couldn’t seem to shake the painful lump from his throat.

As he sat at his desk contemplating how angry his father would be if he was to cry off from their lunch meeting with the new investors and just simply went home and crawled back into bed, the phone on his desk rang.

Sighing, he picked it up, “Yes, Jeanie?” He said into the phone, his head hurting too badly for him to be able to muster up any enthusiasm even for his pleasant Assistant.

“Mr. Ackles, there are two gentleman here in the lobby from the Dallas police dept. They say they need to speak with you.

Jensen’s brow furrowed as a chill ran down his spine, “The Dallas PD? What is it about?” He asked.

“I don’t know sir,” Jeanie replied, “They said they need to speak to you directly.”

Sighing, Jensen said, “Fine, Jeanie, show them in.”

Standing, Jensen straightened his jacket and trousers as he watched the door to his office open and Jeanie ushered two uniformed officers into the room. Something about the way they carried themselves and the looks on their faces caused the chill down his spine to make Jensen’s blood run cold.

“Gentlemen,” he said, and stepped forward to shake their hands, “what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Ackles,” the first officer said, his voice grave, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there has been an accident…”

Jensen sat in the living room of his parent’s mansion, his arm firmly around his mother’s shoulders as she sobbed. He felt numb, as though the only part of his body that still worked was his brain, and that was only functional enough to keep playing the same thought over and over again in his mind.

My father… the man who has dictated every move I have made since I was 10… is dead!

When the maid, Sara, entered the room and announced that his brother’s car had just pulled up the drive, Jensen couldn’t help the little shudder of relief that ran through him.

He needed to get away from his mother… needed some time to come to terms with his father’s death and what it meant for his future.

When Josh came into the room, he immediately went to their mother’s side and embraced the distraught woman. Reaching out a hand, he shook Jensen’s hand and they exchanged knowing looks.

“How you doing?” Josh asked, his voice low.

Jensen nodded and replied that he was ‘hanging in there’.

“Have you heard from Mack?” Josh continued, and Jensen shook his head.

“Last we heard she was backpacking through Ireland. We’ve left messages at some of her scheduled stopovers telling her she needs to call immediately, but you know Mack!”

Josh nodded, and frowned, their sister was well known for being somewhat flighty and unreliable.

At that moment, Fred Lahne, the family attorney walked into the room. He first approached Josh and shook his hand briskly, offering his condolences to everyone in the room as he circulated.

Jensen shook his hand when he reached him, and then wiped it on his pants as soon as the man had moved on. Fred Lahne had been the attorney for the family for as long as Jensen could remember, and he had never liked him. There was something about the man that made him feel as though he needed to shower after speaking with him.

Not wanting to spend any more time with the man then necessary, Jensen made his excuses, and left the living room.

As he wandered down the hall, he passed the door to his father’s den, a room that he had never been allowed to step into while the man was alive. Feeling brave and just a tiny bit defiant, Jensen turned the knob and entered his father’s private room.

Feeling almost like a little kid sneaking around, Jensen found himself tiptoeing as he crossed the room and stood behind his father’s big mahogany desk. Almost in awe of how polished and shiny everything on the desk was, Jensen ran his hand across the desk pad and the smooth shiny surface of the desk.

With a grin, he pulled the big leather chair back from the desk, and sat down in it. Pushing back just a bit, he leaned back in the chair, and placed his feet on the surface of the desk. Placing his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes and breathed in the scents of the room. Pipe smoke, furniture polish, his father’s aftershave. This last scent brought a wave of grief and regret, and Jensen felt his eyes tear up a bit. He had always wanted to have a good relationship with his father. Always wanted to be close to him, but his father’s way of doing things, and his stubborn way of never accepting differences in people had made that impossible.

Sighing, Jensen moved his feet in order to bring them back down to the floor. As his heels cleared the desk pad, it shifted forward and began to fall off the desk. Jensen bent forward quickly and caught it in mid air. As it hung there in his hand a tiny brass key fell from between the mat and the leather holder and tumbled to the floor.

Jensen righted the desk pad, and then bent to pick up the key. Turning it in his fingers he thought for only a second before he began trying it in the desk drawers, trying to figure out which one it would open.

The key opened the third drawer he tried. In the drawer were several files and folders pertaining to Ackles Oil, he, Josh and Mack’s college tuitions, and other assorted financial matters. Placing the files back in the drawer, Jensen was about to close it when a large manila envelope with his name on it caught his eye.

Pulling the envelope out of the drawer he felt a tiny shiver of unease run through him when he saw the dates written under his name. Almost all of them were in 2000.

Jensen closed the drawer, and relocked it then put the key back in the desk pad. Sitting back in the chair, he unclasped the envelope, and shook the contents out onto the desk.

It took several moments for him to register what he was looking at. There were pictures, several of them, and a bundle of envelopes held together with a rubber band. Also in the envelope were several legal type documents and check stubs, dozens of them, all made out to a doctor.

Jensen picked up the pictures and looked through them, his heart beating faster and harder with each one he looked at.

The pictures were all of him and Jared! Most of them were taken from a distance on what Jensen recognized as the A&M campus. Some showed them hugging or exchanging a quick kiss, others showed them holding hands, but some of them were of them in bed, sleeping in each others arms, or kissing passionately. One even showed Jensen riding a sprawled out Jared, both of them with their heads thrown back in obvious pleasure.

As he looked at the pictures, he felt the blood drain from his face and then quickly rush back so that his face burned with a combination of anger and embarrassment. His father knew! All along his father had known about him and Jared, he had known that Jensen was gay, and yet he had plotted to force him into marrying Danneel, even knowing what a bitch she was.

Slowly, he leafed through the pictures again. This time really looking at them, and remembering when they must have been taken. When he reached the last one, he placed them carefully on the desk and began looking through the papers. Most of them made no sense. Why was his father paying hospital and doctor bill for some anonymous patient? Each and every bill and statement had a check to match it, but none of them contained a name for the mysterious patient. Who was this person, and more importantly, what did any of it have to do with Jensen or Jared?

Confused, Jensen at last picked up the packet of envelopes and turned it toward him. Again the blood drained from his face when he saw his own name in that sloppy, loopy handwriting on the top envelope. He would know that handwriting anywhere had seen it nearly everyday for almost 10 years. He drew in a breath, and slowly leafed through the stack of envelopes, his breathing becoming erratic and his heart beating faster with each envelope he looked at, all of them addressed to him, all of them post marked from California, and all the date stamps showing dates after the accident that killed the Padalecki family.

With shaking hands, Jensen opened the envelope for the one with the oldest date, July 25, 2000, 2 days after they had laid the Padalecki family to rest.

Slowly and methodically he read through each and every letter, felt all the pain and confusion that Jared must have felt. First the pain he felt at the devastating loss of this family, as well as the physical pain of his own injuries.

Then the letters moved on add his confusion and pain at Jensen’s silence. Some of the letters outright begged to know why Jensen hadn’t contacted him, why he hadn’t called or written even if he couldn’t come and see him.

Then he came to the last letter. This one letter reflected all the pain and betrayal of each of the others. Jared had received a restraining order as well as order to cease any and all attempts to make contact with Jensen. From the letter, Jensen presumed that the court orders had both contained his signature.

Finally he came to the last paragraph of the last letter.

I’m sorry Jen… so damn sorry! I don’t understand why you are doing this, but if this is how you want things to be then I will leave you alone.

Good-bye, Baby. I love you, Jensen Ackles. Always have and always will. I hope your life is everything you want it to be.

All my love always,

Jay

Jensen wiped away the tears from his face as he read those words and thought about Jared, his sweet, handsome, caring Jared all alone and in so much pain, dealing with the loss of his family as well as dealing with his own injuries and believing that Jensen no longer wanted to be with him, no longer loved him. Slumping down in the chair, Jensen clutched the letters to his chest and began to sob.

When the sobs began to subside, Jensen noticed that it had begun to get dark outside the window. Scooping up the pictures and all the papers, Jensen put them back in the envelope and fastened it again. Tucking it under his arm, he stepped out of his father’s den. Turning and looking back into the darkening room, Jensen whispered quietly.

Good-bye you bastard! You might have thought you won, but you were wrong! I will find Jared, and if it takes me the rest of my life I will show him that I never stopped loving him.

With that, he closed the door to his father’s den with a slam that echoed through the house. Squaring his shoulders and clutching the envelope to his chest he started back toward the living room where his mother and brother waited.

Chapter 2

Do You Wanna Touch...?

2008-06-18T01:06:26Z

Title: Do You Wanna Touch
Rating: NC-17, for m/m sex, and language
Pairing: J2
Summary: Ever been caught in an embarrassing moment? Jensen has.

Author's Note 2: The movie referenced in this story is ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ and you can find out more about it here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0096438/

Written for: j2_spn_100days
Warnings: None… well m/m sex… but um… HELLO?? Also pretty schoompy.

You can find the story here… and don’t forget to check out the rest of the fantastic stories posted there… and keep coming back… there’s a new one coming every day this summer!

http://community.livejournal.com/j2_spn_100days/5972.html#cutid1

Another Face In The Crowd - Chapter 5

2007-10-05T08:34:07Z

Another Face In The Crowd
Title: Chapter 5
Rating: NC-17 story as a whole, PG-13 this chapter (language)
Pairing: Justin/OC, Brian/other, Brian/Justin
Summary: While on a ski trip, Justin is lost in an avalanche and presumed dead. 2 years later everyone has moved on as best they can. Then one day Brian sees a man on T.V. that bears a striking resemblance to Justin. Can Brian find this mystery look alike, and is it really Justin? Most importantly... can love conquer all?
Disclaimer: All original characters are mine; however, Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip and Showtime... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.

Feedback: Yes please...
Author’s Note: The pronunciations of some of the names in this story are as follows : Giuseppe (jess-e-pea) short e sound, Giusee (Jessie), Simmons (sim-ons), Philippe (phil-eep), Cavalli (ka-valley), Lydia (Li-d-a) Dagostino (Da-ga-steen-o). I hope this helps make the reading go more smoothly.

Author’s Note 2: From this point on, at least for the next few chapters, Justin is going to be having a lot of flashes of memory. For the sake of readability, and in the interest of avoiding becoming redundant, rather then stating that each flashback ‘swept through his head’ or anything else like that, I will simply put the flashbacks in bold print, that way they are easily distinguishable but don’t interfere with the pacing of the story. If this is annoying or makes the reading harder, feel free to let me know and I can try a different tactic.

Warnings: Angst, VERY Mild Violence.

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Chapter 5

Philippe paced around the apartment restlessly as a feeling of dread churned in his stomach. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, alternating between fear and anger that Giusee’s friends had shown up now, just when he had honestly begun to feel that there was hope for a possible future for them.

Now, Giusee had gone out without telling him that he was leaving. Something he almost never did. Not that either of them had to answer to the other about their activities, but somehow they had fallen into the habit of telling each other when they were leaving and where they were going. Philippe’s stomach lurched again in fear at the thought of Giusee running into those two men on the street.

Would he remember them? Would seeing them bring his memory back? A part of Philippe hoped intensely that he would never regain his memory, because he knew Giusee well enough to know that he would never remain here if he suddenly remembered where he was from and who his family was.

Of course there was also the part of him that knew it was wrong for him to think that way. He knew how unhappy Giusee became whenever he thought about his past and how frustrated he was by the fact that he still could not remember. He also knew how hurt Giusee would be if he knew how fervently Philippe had prayed that he would stay ignorant to his past, and remain here with him.

He knew Lydia was right of course. It would all be so much easier if he simply told Giusee how he felt. Then he would know once and for all whether there was any chance of them ever being more then friends and roommates. Somehow though, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

The paintings that plastered the walls of their tiny apartment played a big part in his reluctance to speak. Somehow, he had always known that the ‘Mystery Man’, as they had all taken to calling him, was not simply a figment of his friends imagination, and though he argued otherwise whenever possible, deep down he had always known that the man was someone from Giusee’s past, just like he knew without a doubt that they had been more then just friends.

Sighing angrily at his confusion over what seemed a hopeless and ultimately doomed situation, he decided to take a walk, maybe stop by the café to get a cup of coffee, and try to decide what he should do about Giusee. Grabbing his sweatshirt from the back of the sofa, he left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Giusee’s fingers gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles became white as the trio drew closer, and he fought to yank his eyes from the hypnotic gaze of the other man.

“Giusee,” Lydia said as she approached and placed a hand on his shoulder, “are you all right?”

Unable to make his tongue move, his simply nodded, and watched as the other man broke the stare first and stood looking at the booth in front of him, as if trying to decide what chair he wished to sit in. The expressions that crossed his face as he stared at the empty chairs ranged from horror, amusement and then to outright disgust, and Giusee found himself fighting the urge to suggest he try “Eeny Meeny Miny Moe” as a means to decide.

Though he was able to keep the words from spilling from his lips, he could not suppress the grin that flashed across them when the shorter man hissed at him to sit down and shoved him into the empty chair across the table.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the few seconds they had been inside the café, Brian’s brain had waged a mental war of jumbled thoughts that he would later blame on lack of sleep and not nearly enough caffeine in his system. The first and most immediately strong urge was of course to grab this man, who he knew with complete certainty just from seeing him in person was indeed Justin, and whisk him off to the hotel for a most private and extremely hot night of reunion fucking. After which he would never let him out of his sight for more then a day again.

Another thought came from a voice that sounded annoyingly like Theodore’s. That thought was that he should move cautiously. After all, this man whose perceived death had plagued him with loneliness, guilt and regret for two long years, reportedly remembered nothing about his past, and therefore most likely did not feel the same mixture of joy, relief, pain and, though he could barely admit it even to himself, desperation that was coursing through Brian at lightning speed, upon seeing him again.

Another thought, amusingly enough sounding just like Emmett, urged him to go for it and see what transpired.

However as easy as that sounded, there-in lay another problem. Should he sit next to him, in effect making it a definite possibility that he might be able to somehow act on the insane desire to touch him, even just his arm. Or should he sit across from him, there-by indulging the equally strong desire he had to simply look at him.

Then his own voice sounded in it’s practical ‘fuck-em all’ manner and said, “For Christ sake Kinney, get a grip and sit the fuck down already!”

Suddenly he realized how ridiculous he must appear, when he was shoved gently from behind by Michael as he hissed in his ear to sit down. He glanced quickly at the man that Lydia had called Giusee and saw the grin flash across his face before he suddenly he found himself planted in a chair across from him and staring into his eyes.

At the sight of that grin, and the so familiar mischief flashing in those blue eyes, he immediately felt himself becoming hard and instantly regretted his hesitation, wishing he had sat next to him so he could touch him, kiss him, fling him to the floor and fuck him silly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once they were all seated, Lydia cleared her throat and said, “Giusee, I would like you to meet Michael Novotny, and Brian Kinney. They are here looking for a friend of theirs who was lost in an avalanche 2 years ago. Michael, Brian, this is Giuseppe Simmons, although most people simply call him Giusee.”

With introductions out of the way, Lydia sat back to watch. Although there was a part of her that felt sadness in the almost certain knowledge that Giusee would be leaving with these men to pursue his past, at the same time she could not help but feel elated for her friend. At long last he was about to find out who he truly was, and where he had come from. Two questions that she knew had plagued him since the day he stumbled out of the woods and collapsed at the door of that farmer’s cabin two years ago.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking a deep breath, Michael glanced at Brian and watched the indecision flit quickly across his face. Knowing the pain and despair that his friend had suffered over the last two years, he could only imagine the joy and relief he must be feeling at that moment.

As he watched him staring at the man they had come all this way to see, the man that was undoubtedly Justin Taylor, he decided that he would need to take action or else they might all end up standing here like this for the rest of the day.

Rolling his eyes, he pushed Brian from behind and hissed, “Brian… sit down!”

Once he was seated on the other side of the table from Justin, he listened as Lydia made the introductions, and then waited to see who would speak next.

When the silence began to stretch, and the other two men continued to simply stare at each other, Michael decided to end the silence and cleared his throat.

“Um… Giusee is it?” The other man simply nodded but did not break his gaze from Brian’s. Grinning at the strange familiarity of the scene, he continued.

“Hello, Giusee, I’m Michael.” He stretched his hand out, and finally the man broke the fixed gaze and turned to him.

“Nice to meet you, Michael.” Shaking the offered hand, Justin smiled before glancing again quickly at Brian who was still looking at him.

Suddenly, Lydia’s patience with all three of the men’s hesitation disappeared, and she grumbled disgustedly in Italian, “Oh, per amor di Dio!” (“Oh for goodness sake!”)

When all three turned to look at her she continued in English her firm voice allowing no interruption.

“Giusee, these men are here because they believe you are their missing friend, Justin Taylor! They have been looking for you since your disappearance, and finally through a stroke of luck they have succeeded!”

“Justin Taylor” Justin whispered, the name sounding right to his ears, and feeling familiar on his lips.

He was seated in a classroom wearing a navy blue blazer and a white shirt, while a man at the front of the room called out names. When the man called out ‘Taylor, Justin’ he raised his hand and said, ‘here, sir!’

Smiling quickly at Lydia, he stretched out his hand and stated with an impish glint in his eyes. “Hello, Lydia. My name is Justin Taylor!”

Lydia giggled and shook his hand. He then held his hand out to Michael and shook it, “Justin Taylor, pleased to meet you!” Michael laughed and shook his hand. Then he turned to Brian, and again held out his hand, “Hi, Brian,” he began, his voice a bit different then that which he had used to introduce himself to the others, “my name is, Justin, Justin Taylor.”

Brian accepted the hand and gripped it tightly, his hand warm and oddly familiar feeling, and shook it with a half smirk, half smile on his face as he responded in a slightly hoarse voice, “I know.”

Reclining in bed, covered only by a sheet, he gazed expectantly at his mystery man, whose name he at last knew was Brian Kinney, as he leaned over him saying, ‘What’s your name again?’ A feeling of disappointment and rejection swamped him as he replied in a crestfallen voice, ‘Justin’ and Brian replied vaguely, ‘right.’

Suddenly Justin jumped, and pulled his hand away, his gaze glued to the door of the small café. For just a moment Justin saw framed in the window, the anguished, and angry, face of Philippe. When the others turned to see what he was looking at, Philippe suddenly turned and hurried away down the sidewalk.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he arrived back at the apartment he shared with Giusee, Philippe was torn between anger, pain, and betrayal. Anger at these men who had shown up out of the blue after nearly two years to claim Giusee as their long lost friend, pain at the interest and attraction he had witnessed between Giusee and that other man… an attraction that he had dreamed and prayed for but had never once come close to seeing between Giusee and himself… and betrayal from the sure knowledge that the little meeting he had stumbled upon could have only been orcastraited by Lydia.

As he paced back and forth, he faced at each turn another picture of the ‘Mystery Man’, the man that he had suspected all along was not a figment of Giusee’s imagination. Now there was no more doubt. This man truly did exist, was very much a real part of Giusee’s past, and had come to re-claim him.

Crying out his anger and anguish, Philippe grabbed the painting closest to him and ripped it from the wall. Throwing it to the floor, he stomped on it with all his weight, his face splitting into a feral grin when he heard the canvas rip and the wooden stretcher frame crack.

Lifting his foot his gazed in fascination at the ruined painting. He felt a perverse satisfaction when he saw that his foot had punctured the canvas in such a way that the man’s face was completely obliterated, leaving only the outline of his head, and a gaping whole where his handsome features had once been.

The grin on his face turned to a grimace and suddenly he began rushing about the room, tearing each painting he came too from the wall and smashing them beneath his feet. As he stomped and smashed he cursed the mystery man, cursed him for existing, cursed him for coming here and destroying everything… cursed him for the part of Giusee’s heart that he so obviously possessed. A possession that was obviously so strong that even the loss of his entire memory had not obliterated him from his heart and mind.

At last he stopped. Standing in the middle of the apartment he looked around bleary eyed at the carnage and destruction that was all that remained of Giusee’s art.

Suddenly, the realization of what he had done hit him, and he slumped to the floor, his face buried in his hands, and began to sob.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justin sighed heavily as he walked the last few blocks to the apartment building where he lived with Philippe. Somehow he knew that a conversation between them about their feelings and friendship was long overdue, and though he knew it had to be done, he was not necessarily looking forward to it.

After he had seen Philippe watching them through the café window, he had risen to go after him. Although he knew that Philippe had feelings for him that he could never return, and that it was not truly his fault that Philippe was hurting because of Brian and Michael’s appearance, he still felt horrible to think that his friend was hurting because of him. However, Lydia had insisted that Philippe could wait. He needed stay there and get reacquainted with his friends.

The truth of the matter was that Justin had not been in that much of a hurry to leave Brian’s presence anyway. He was happy to have re-met Michael, and was very much looking forward to spending some time getting to know him and hearing all about their friendship, that much was quite true. However, the thing that was drawing him in the most and seemed to be taking over his thoughts completely, was his relationship to Brian.

What exactly was that relationship? Were they just friends… or was there something more between them? Had they once been lovers, or were the dreams and fantasies he had been having for the past two years just that… dreams and fantasies about someone that he had perhaps been attracted too before but had been too close a friend to for anything more to have come of it, or perhaps, just like Philippe and himself, he had been attracted to Brian, but the feelings had not been reciprocated. Justin swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat at this thought, his heart feeling just a bit heavier at the thought that he might have once carried an un-requited torch for Brian.

He was not blind. Brian was an incredibly beautiful man, with a body that would make pretty much anyone with eyes drool, but the difference in their ages was not difficult to spot. Though not sure of his birth date, Justin estimated that he was most likely about 24 years old. During their conversation, it had been mentioned that Brian and Michael were both 36.

While the age difference did absolutely nothing to dampen the instant attraction he had felt for the man, he couldn’t help but wonder about the odds of a man like Brian being interested in someone so much younger.

They delved far enough into their friendship for Justin to know how long they had known each other, but it had to have been at least a couple of years or so before his accident given some of the things Michael had talked about, such as the comic book he and Michael had written together, the business that Brian ran that Justin had supposedly come up with the name for. If he was correct about his age that would have made him about no older then 20, possibly even younger, when they first met.

Unless he had an older sibling they had neglected to mention, and he doubted that was the case, he had to assume that he had been a part of their direct circle of friends, or as Michael referred to them, ‘the family’. It would be interesting to find out just how that had come about.

Brian and Michael had asked if he could meet them for breakfast the next day, and he had eagerly agreed, feeling himself blush a bit at Lydia’s knowing smile. He could read in her eyes just how aware she was of the fact that, while he was indeed anxious to find out more about himself and his former life, he was even more anxious to spend more time with the man who had haunted his dreams for so long.

“Nell'interesse del Christ, Giusee, mantenga la vostra testa circa voi! Neppure non sapete che l'uomo è disponibile! Potrebbe molto bene avere qualcuno aspettarlo nel paese!” (“For Christ sake, Giusee, keep your head about you! You don’t even know that the man is available! He could very well have someone waiting for him at home!”) He muttered to himself as he opened the door to his building and started up the stairs.

He had figured out fairly quickly that Michael was indeed attached. Justin had deduced from the conversation that Michael and another member of ‘the family’, someone named Ben, were partners. Brian on the other hand had been a bit less forthcoming with information about himself. Although he had detected definite interest and at least some degree of attraction from him, he had revealed nothing that would let it be known whether he was single or off the market.

Shaking his head and snorting in disgust at the direction his thoughts had taken in the short time since they had parted company, he dug around in his bag, and pulled out his key.

As he stepped into the apartment and took in the carnage and rubble that surrounded him, all thoughts of Brian fled from his mind. Stepping gingerly around piles of broken wood and mangled canvas, he took in the mess with growing anger and disbelief.

TBC...

A Chance Occurrence in an Otherwise Normal Life - Epilogue

2007-10-02T01:12:38Z

A Chance Occurrence in an Otherwise Normal Life
Title: A Chance Occurrence in an Otherwise Normal Life, Epilogue: What the Future May Bring
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ennis/Jack
Summary: For years Jack has been trying to convince Ennis to build a life with him, but Ennis is scared to do it. Would that change if Ennis was suddenly able to hear everything that Jack and others around them thought when they see them together?
Disclaimer: By now I shouldn’t need ta tell ya they ain’t mine… but just in case… they ain’t!
Feedback: Yes, please...
Author's Note: I apologize if the way our narrator refers to them is awkward… I couldn’t find any other way to do it. You’ll see what I mean.

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Epilogue: What the Future May Bring

November 15, 2003

I was there on a camping trip the day I met them. My boyfriend, Ben, and I had done nothing but fight and ignore each other for months, and I had thought that being together in nature with nothing to distract us would help us become closer to each other again. I was beginning to think that I was wrong.

I sat by our fire, looking into the flames, trying to think what I could do the make Ben see that he loved me and that we belonged together. Our relationship had never been an easy one, and there were times when I wondered if he was even aware that I was in the room.

While I was sitting there, I heard an engine approaching, and turned to watch as a black pickup truck pulled in and parked next to my Chevy Tahoe. Standing, I watched as the doors opened, and two men emerged.

Tall, slim, and somewhat weathered looking, I immediately noticed that they were both strikingly handsome, in that way that men have of becoming remaining handsome even when approaching their 60’s. Both were dressed in blue jeans, long sleeved button down shirts, cowboy boots, and hats. The one on the left, was wearing a tan hat, and appeared to have blonde hair generously streaked with gray. The one on the right, was wearing a black hat, and had salt and pepper hair, though more pepper then salt. Both men reached into the truck, pulling out jackets and putting them on.

They glanced at each other briefly, looked around sizing up my camp, and myself and then began walking down toward me. As they approached I noticed that both men had intense eyes that, though very different… one set being brown as chocolate and the other as blue as the winter sky… both held the same expression. A look of happiness and fulfilled life that I had begun to believe I would never enjoy.

“Evenin’ lil’ lady,” Black Hat said, and tipped his hat to me.

Tan Hat stood next to him and simply said, “Evenin’.” he tipped his hat as well, than stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Good evening,” I replied, still surprised by their arrival, but happy for a bit of company. Ben had driven away in a rage almost 4 hours ago, and I wasn’t sure he was even coming back.

“Mind if we cut through yer camp site, ma’am?” Black Hat asked, “We was plannin’ on a takin’ a walk along the creek there… not usually anyone here.” He grinned, reassuring me that he held no grudge for my being there, but was simply stating a fact. His blue eyes twinkled with that smile, and I suddenly felt like I had been graced with a gift.

“Beautiful here ain’t it?” He continued looking across the water at the snow covered peaks in the distance.

“Oh, yes… not sure what the name of that mountain is, but it is very beautiful.”

Suddenly, Tan Hat spoke up, his voice slightly gruff though friendly enough, “That there is Brokeback Mountain, lil’ miss”.

The statement itself was simple enough, but something about the man’s voice when he said ‘Brokeback Mountain’… a certain reverence perhaps, as though he were speaking of a beloved and cherished memory… led me to think that for some reason that mountain was special to him.

The men shared a look and a smile, eyes flashing, some unspoken message passing between them, before they turned back to me.

“Well,” I said, feeling suddenly as though it was me that had come upon them, rather then the other way around, “I won’t keep you from your walk.”

“Pleasure to meet ya, ma’am,” Black Hat said, tipping his hat again. Tan Hat nodded, and they walked down to the creek bank.

I stood for several minutes watching them as they stood on the bank a moment, talking in low voices.

My eyes suddenly opened just a bit wider, and I blinked, not sure if I had seen correctly… yes… I had. Tan Hat was reaching out, and taking Black Hat’s hand, fingers interlacing, thumbs rubbing gently over each other. Turning they began walking along the stream, their hands linked between them as causal and natural as anything I had ever seen.

Something about the two of them fascinated me, and without thinking about what I was doing, I slowly began to follow them as they walked along the bank, hanging back so they would not know I was there.

They walked at a slow but steady pace, close together, their hands parting occasionally to pick up a rock or some other thing of interest, but each time the hands came back together smoothly and effortlessly, no hesitation, as though two halves of a whole, drawn together like magnet to metal.

As they walked, they talked. At first this surprised me. Because of Tan Hat’s reticence at the camp, I had gotten the impression that he rarely spoke. However, talk between them flowed easily, both adding and taking as much from the conversation as the other.

At one point, Black Hat made a remark and bumped Tan Hat with his hip, causing Tan Hat to throw his head back and laugh long and loud. Something about that laugh, the pure joy in it, gave me goose bumps.

Finally, after walking for nearly half an hour, they came to an area that was thick with boulders and larger rocks. Both men ducked between two large boulders. Thinking that they were cutting through to the other side rather then get their boots wet going around, I waited a minute or two. When I was sure that they must have come out on the other side, I crept up to the boulder and started to slip through myself. What I saw when I peeked my head around the rock brought me up short and took my breath away.

Standing in the center of an enclosure formed by several of the boulders, the two men were entwined in each other’s arms, lips molded together in a passionate kiss. As I watched, their lips parted, and Tan Hat brought his hand up to gently stroke the other man’s face and an obvious shiver ran thorough Black Hat’s body at the touch. Leaning forward slightly he brought their foreheads together, and they stood for several moments, looking into each other’s eyes. Even from my poor vantage point, I could see the energy, desire and love that radiated from the eyes of both men.

Even though I was afraid of being seen, I was drawn forward. I stepped a bit closer, and ducked behind another boulder. Though they spoke in hushed tones, from where I was, I could make out their words.

“Twenty years… damn!” Black Had said, and chuckled.

“Yup,” Tan Hat replied, “Twenty years. Don’t seem possible does it?”

“Went by so damn fast… too fast!”

“Wouldn’ta wanted em any other way though.” Tan Hat said affection plain in his voice.

“You mean that? No regrets?” Black Hat asked, his eyes lowered and his voice deep and shaking a little.

Tan Hat placed his finger under his chin and raised his face so they were eye to eye again, “Not a one…can’t think of any oth’r person in this world that coulda help’d me live the best damn 20 years a man ever had!”

“I’m glad you said that.” Black hat said, his eyes shining and a smile playing across his lips.

“Why’s that?” Tan Hat whispered, his voice taking on a husky tone.

“Cause I love you… that a good ‘nough reason?” Black Hat asked amusement clear in his voice.

“Damn well better!” Tan Hat growled, and tightened his arms a bit.

“Oh yeah… Ennis Del Mar,” Black Hat said, “and that’s because…”

“Cause I can’t have the man I love not loving me back!” Tan Hat replied, his eyes flashing.

“Hmm… guess its damn good thing I do then, huh?” Black Hat said, a change coming over his face, his eyes darkening and responding to the look in the other man’s eyes.

“I love you… Jack Fuckin’ Twist!” Tan Hat replied, his voice full of affection and taking on a pleading quality, laced with longing and desire when he spoke the name.

Pulling each other close, they brought their lips together in another passionate kiss, bodies pressed fully together. Soon the kiss became more intense, hands drifting to undo buttons and caress exposed skin... lips parting to whisper loving words… then rejoining.

For several moments, I stood in the silence, watching them, before I realized I was crying. Tears streamed down my face, and blurred my vision. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, and suddenly I felt like a horrible person. This scene that I was witnessing… this intimate, souls bared, hearts revealed scene before me was not meant for anyone’s eyes other then these two men who had begun gently and lovingly undressing each other.

Spinning around, I squeezed back out of the rock circle, and fled back to camp. I ran the entire way, a stitch in my side, my tears running freely, great sobs wrenching from my body.

By the time they returned nearly two hours later, I had washed my face, composed myself, and come to a few decisions. I watched as they approached my seat by the fire. They were once again holding hands, and walking so close together that at times their legs and hips brushed against each other. They seemed to have eyes for only each other, and for a moment, it was hard to remember that they were middle-aged men and not starry-eyed teenagers.

When they approached the fire, they suddenly seemed to remember I was there, and with pained looks on their faces they stepped apart and dropped their hands.

“Ma’am,” Jack Twist said, and touched his hat.

I found that my throat was dry as I spoke, “Have a nice walk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ennis Del Mar pitched in, “me an’ Jack here been coming to this spot on this day eve’y year for the last 20 years.” Jack smiled at this statement and lowered his head a bit, gazing at Ennis from under his hat brim.

“Really, you’ve known each other that long?” I said, wincing at the forced surprise in my voice.

“No, Ma’am,” Jack replied, a smile playing across his face at my surprised expression and the slightly shamed expression on Ennis’.

“Me and Ennis’ve know’d each other for 40 years. Met in the summer of ’63, herding sheep up there on Brokeback Mountain.”

Suddenly it was all clear to me… the reverent, loving tone in Ennis’ voice when he spoke the mountain’s name… they came back here every year because this was where they fell in love.

“40 years,” I whispered, awed by the fire and passion that still flowed between them after all that time. That they loved each other deeply was obvious to anyone who watched them together. The looks that passed between them, the soft little touches, the tones, and nuances’ of their voices that spoke volumes beyond what their words said.

At that moment, as though to emphasize my last thoughts, Jack looked at Ennis, a message passing between them. Ennis nodded and lowered his head.

When Jack spoke next, his voice held a bit of regret, “Well, Ma’am, we best be headin’ out, got us a long drive ahead of us ‘fore we get home.”

“Home?” I asked, and chided myself for prying.

“Yes ma’am,” Jack replied his voice now full of pride, “Ennis and me are the sole proprietors of the ‘J & E Ranch’ in Fort Collins, Colorado.”

Ennis smiled at the pride in Jack’s voice, and reached out to squeeze his arm. Their eyes met again, and I couldn’t help but gasp at the look that passed between them.

When Ennis spoke again, his voice was full of pride too…not just pride of his ranch but also pride that this man standing there with him was his. Without taking his eyes from Jack’s, he said, “Nice lil’ place really… was Jack’s dream for long as I’ve know’d him.”

Jack said nothing… he only smiled.

“Ready to go home, Darlin’”, Ennis said softly.

“You bet, Cowboy…” Jack replied.

The men turned to me and said their good-byes and then walked hand in hand to their truck, turned back to gaze at the mountain for a moment, turned to each other and kissed very briefly, their lips barely touching, then got into their truck and drove away.

20 minutes later, I was behind the wheel of my Tahoe, leaving behind me a piece of paper pinned to the tent that read,

Dear Ben,

Take care of yourself. Hope you have a wonderful life.

Love,

Krista

As I drove away I looked back at Brokeback Mountain, and took with me its message…its gift. I didn’t know what I was driving toward, but thanks to Brokeback Mountain and two amazing people, I knew what I wanted…

I wanted what those two men, Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist had… I wanted someone to look at me the way they looked at each other, as though I was the most precious of gems… I wanted someone whose eyes lit up when they saw me, the way their eyes lit up each time they looked at each other… I wanted someone whose touch, gentle and loving made me shiver with desire… and most of all I wanted a love that would last forever… like theirs!

The End

A Force of Nature

Sometimes, by chance or coincidence,

two souls meet and will never again be the same.

From the first moment that eyes meet eyes,

they are irreversibly connected.

No amount of time nor distance can break the connection,

though fade it might, it ever after remains.

When present, every touch, every look, every caress,

though try to fight it you may, brings delight.

It is not something that you can plan,

conspire for nor contrive,

it is not something that you can seek out,

nor will you be able to detect it before it happens.

You cannot choose with whom it occurs,

nor can it be forced upon one of your choosing.

You cannot choose not to feel it when it occurs,

though you may strive to block it from your mind.

Against this, gender has no meaning,

nor does age, nor appearance.

It can bring great joy as well as tremendous sorrow,

at times it can bring both at once.

Some people are never fortunate enough to experience it,

while others, not recognizing what it is,

foolishly push it away,

ever after mourning for its loss.

What is this force that brings such turmoil, grief, joy and delight?

I tell you,

that force is love,

true, pure, undying, love.

When born without guile or deception,

love truly is a force of nature,

and as such cannot be contained nor controlled.

That love is nothing more nor less then…

A Chance Occurrence In An Otherwise Normal Life.

Angi Tamburo – October 1, 2007

A Occurence In An Otherwise Normal Life - Chapter 19

2007-10-01T23:55:41Z

A Chance Occurrence in an Otherwise Normal Life

Title: A Chance Occurrence in an Otherwise Normal Life, Chapter 19: Inside the Inferno

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ennis/Jack
Summary: For years Jack has been trying to convince Ennis to build a life with him, but Ennis is scared to do it. Would that change if Ennis was suddenly able to hear everything that Jack and others around them thought when they see them together? Ennis and Jack are finally in their new home in Fort Collins... but even paradise had a few serpents
Disclaimer: By now I shouldn’t need ta tell ya they ain’t mine… but just in case… they ain’t!
Feedback: Yes, please...
Author's Note: Here it is folks… the final chapter… and about friggin time if I do say so myself! I am truly sorry for the LONG delay in updating this! The Epilogue will follow directly after in a seperate post.

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Chapter 19: Inside the Inferno

“Jack!” Ennis yelled frantically, and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light and blazing heat of the flames that licked their way up the bales of hay and bags of feed stacked in the rear of the barn. Oh God, please let’em be alright… he thought, and coughed hard against the horrible burning he felt as his lungs protested to the smoke that forced its way in each time he opened his mouth.

“Jack…” he yelled again, falling into another coughing spasm. Remembering a trick his daddy used to use when they burned the hay fields in the spring, he pulled his bandanna out of his pocket, and held it over his nose and mouth to filter out the smoke before continuing on into the row of horse stalls.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ow! Dammit, Salamar… watch it!” Jack cursed as the frightened horse once again pushed against him, knocking him sideways and stepping on his foot.

Coughing slightly, he pushed the horse away, and pulled his foot closer to his body, causing him to tumble sideways and bang his head against the tack room wall.

Damn… its fucking hot in here! Ya really dun it this time Twist… got yerself stuck but good! Runnin’ in after a damn horse of all stupid things!

Jack once again mentally kicked himself for running in to the barn after the horse. He had known while he was doing it that it was a foolhardy thing to do, but his thoughts couldn’t get away from how brokenhearted Ennis would be if his horse was to die in such a horrible way.

After letting Salamar out of her stall, he had started back toward the barn door, only to find that the frightened horse was refusing to move. By the time he had yanked and pulled and cursed at her enough to get her moving, their path to the door had been blocked by flames. Their only escape route gone, Jack had quickly ducked into the tack room at the back of the barn, pulling the balking horse in with him and slamming the door shut. Just seconds after, he had heard a cracking sound and something had hit the floor outside the tack room door. When he tried to open it, the door wouldn’t budge. Something had fallen outside the door and was blocking it.

A wave of sorrow washed over him at the thought that he would never see Ennis again. For what seemed like hours he sat inside the little tack room, painfully aware of the increasing heat in the small room, and the smoke that was seeping its way through the sacks he had stuffed under the door to block it.

Suppose you think Ennis’ll feel better now, huh? Now not only will his horse die this way, but it looks as though yer gonna be goin’ ‘long with her! God, Ennis… I’m so sorry ta leave ya like this… so damn sorry…

Suddenly, there was a loud crash outside the tack room door, and Jack heard a voice yelling and choking.

“Jack… is that you?”

“Ennis!” Jack yelled frantically and pounded on the door and praying he would be heard.

“Jack…! Thank god! Hold on, Darlin’… there’s a rafter…” the voice choked off in another fit of hacking coughs before continuing in a hoarse croak, “there’s a rafter blockin’ the door.”

“Ennis… get the fuck outta here!” Jack yelled, his anguish clear in his voice. “Ain’t no way ya can move that yerself… please… go!”

Jack heard scuffling around outside the door and a great deal of cursing and shouting mixed in with increasing bouts of deep hacking coughs.

Damn you, Ennis Del Mar! Stubborn jackass… get outta here… please Ennis… can’ bear the thought of ya gettin’ hurt tryin’ ta save me!

Suddenly Jack heard Salmar roar with fear and looked over to see that the rear wall of the tack room was becoming quickly engulfed with flames, the fire at last having burned through the stacks of hay piled on the other side.

“Ennis!” Jack yelled frantically as he pulled on the horse’s lead, trying to edge her closer to him and away from the roaring heat of the fire.

Suddenly the door burst open, and Jack felt Ennis’ arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ennis… goddamn… didn’ think I was gonna see ya again.”

“I know, darlin’ I know.” Ennis said his emotions clear in his voice, “Com’on now… we gotta get outta here, that roof is gonna let go any minute!”

Reaching in behind Jack, Ennis grabbed Salamar’s lead, and struggled and coaxed the frightened horse out of the tack room. Pulling back his arm, he slapped her hard on the hind quarters, and watched with fear and then relief as the horse bolted through the barn and then darted out through the doors to safety.

“Com’on, darlin’ let’s get outta here!” Ennis yelled, a big grin spreading across his face as he gave Jack a shove toward the door.

Ain’t gotta tell me twice, Cowboy!

Jack returned the grin and started toward the door. When he reached the opening, he turned back just in time to see a large chunk of roof fall crashing to the floor. A board, flaming and black stuck out in front of the mass of falling wood, and Jack watched in horror as the board bounced off the top of Ennis’ head before continuing down to the floor, closely followed by Ennis’ crumpling body.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he woke, the room was dark and silent. He lifted his arm and searched his face, feeling only gauze and tape where his eyes should be. At first he panicked, but then he realized that he could still feel his eyes when he blinked, and that when he closed them the room seemed darker then when they were open.

Relieved, he listened carefully, tying to detect the slightest sound or thought. Hearing nothing, he relaxed a bit and reached his hand up to touch a painful throbbing spot on the top of his head. When his fingers made contact, he groaned at the bolt of pain that lanced through his already throbbing head, then jumped, startled, poking the spot again and eliciting an even louder groan, when a voice suddenly spoke next to his ear.

“’Bout time ya woke up!”

“Jack?” Ennis asked, his voice coming out in a hoarse croak.

“Who else… less ya got some other guy sneaking in here ta see ya! Course, handsome as ya are, can’t says though I’d blame ‘em” Jack replied, and Ennis couldn’t help but grin, though the grin quickly turned to a grimace as another bolt of pain worked its way through his head.

“I thought I was alone ya dern fool.” He managed through gritted teeth, and then coughed hard and rough, which caused the pain in his head to turn from a dull throb to a sharp ache.

“Now ya jus calm down and be quiet, Babe. The doc says ya shouldn’t talk much fer a few days, give yer throat a chance ta heal from the smoke ya inhaled.”

“Smoke?” Ennis muttered, trying to remember, then suddenly it all came rushing back. The barn in flames, struggling through to the tack room scared to death that he would be too late and Jack would be dead. Finding both he and Salamar alive. Moving the big rafter out of the way and getting Jack out. Then seeing Jack grinning in the doorway, his grin quickly turning into a horrified shout, and then nothing until he woke up just now.

“Jack, the fire! Are you all right, Darlin’? Ya ain’t hurt are ya?” Ennis asked frantically, trying to push himself into a sitting position. His words were cut off by another bout of coughing, and he allowed Jack’s hands to push him back against the pillow, bringing his hand back to his throbbing head.

“Whoa!” Jack said, trying to sooth Ennis and holding him against the pillow until he was sure he wasn’t going to try to sit up again. “Take it easy there, cowboy! I jus got done tellin’ ya that the doc wants ya ta take it easy. Don’ go gettin’ all riled, or he’ll make me leave.”

Seeing that Ennis was calming down again, Jack breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back down in the chair next to the bed that he had occupied since they had arrived the morning before. Reaching out and clasping Ennis’ hand in his, he said, “Now, if ya can behave yerself and stay quiet, I’ll tell ya all about what’s been happening.”

Ennis nodded, and grimaced again. Then settled back to listen, content for the moment to allow the sound of Jack’s voice to convince him that Jack was alright.

“Ok then. First of all, let me tell ya that ya scared the shit outta me! I thought ya was dead when that big ole hunk’a wood fell on yer head. Course I guess I shoulda known that ya would be fine, considerin’ how hard yer head is.”

Ennis scowled, and opened his mouth to protest, only to find it quickly covered by Jack’s hand.

“Uh, uh, uh!” Jack said, his voice gleeful and teasing. He chuckled heartily at Ennis growl of protest before he continued.

“Anyways, Gary and I hauled yer ass outta the barn and the ambulance brought ya here. The doc says ya got a mild concussion, the lining of your throat is seared from the smoke ya inhaled, and yer eyes are covered ta prevent further damage to em from the smoke. The doc says ya might not be able ta see when they first take the bandages off, but that should go away right quick.”

“K.E,” Ennis croaked, and coughed hoarsely, “Was Stubbs and K.E what started the fire… I know it.”

“Hush now, Cowboy,” Jack said, and rubbed Ennis’ arm soothingly, “don’tcha worry none ‘bout Stubbs or that asshole brother’a yers. Sandy found some tire tracks and matched em ta Stubb’s truck. Track’d both he and yer brother down, and didn’t bother to tell em that we was both still alive until after they went on along braggin’ ta half the crowd down at Slider’s bar ‘bout the faggots they sent ta hell. Sandy says ta tell ya that we won’ be needing ta worry bout neither of them or their friends no more. Attempted murder holds a pretty good sentence in this county, and they got enough witnesses ta send em all away fer a real long time!”

Ennis squeezed Jack’s hand, relief washing through him and bringing tears to his eyes.

“Jack…” he croaked, and cleared his throat, “com’ere, darlin’” He felt the bed dip as Jack stood and leaned over him, and then he raised his arms and pulled Jack into a fierce hug. Pulling Jack’s head toward his, he kissed him carefully on the lips and then whispered against his mouth, “Yer really ok, ain’t ya… you ain’t lyin’ ta me?”

“No, bud… I ain’t lyin’. I am well and fine, thanks ta ya. But if ya ever do a fool thing like that again… I’ll kill ya maself!”

Ennis listened carefully, trying to pick up Jack’s thoughts to determine that Jack was not keeping anything back from him. Suddenly he realized something that hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Jack…” he asked, “when did ya come into the room… I didn’t hear ya come in before ya spoke ta me.”

Confused, Jack looked carefully at Ennis’ face, but it was always so hard to tell what he was thinking when his eyes were hidden.

“Babe… I haven’ left this room since they brought ya in. Been sitting in this chair the whole time.”

“But… if ya was there… how come I didn’ hear what ya…” Suddenly Ennis’ voice trailed off as realization finally sunk in. The gift, the curse, whatever it was that had given him the ability to hear others thoughts… it was gone, just as quickly as it came.

“Ennis,” Jack asked, concern in his voice, “are ya ok, bud… ya need me ta call a nurse?”

“No,” Ennis replied, a big grin spreading across his face, “don’ need noone but you, darlin’”

Jack shook his head, and said, “I swear, Ennis… sometimes I wish I knew what goes on in that head’a yers!”

Ennis merely snorted and replied, “Trust me… ya don’!”

Another Face In The Crowd - Chapter 4

2007-06-25T16:23:13Z

Another Face In The Crowd
Title: Chapter 4
Rating: NC-17 story as a whole, PG-13 this chapter (language)
Pairing: Justin/OC, Brian/other, Brian/Justin
Summary: While on a ski trip, Justin is lost in an avalanche and presumed dead. 2 years later everyone has moved on as best they can. Then one day Brian sees a man on T.V. that bears a striking resemblance to Justin. Can Brian find this mystery look alike, and is it really Justin? Most importantly... can love conquer all?
Disclaimer: All original characters are mine, however, Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip and Showtime... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.

Feedback: Yes please...
Authors Note: I'm not gonna make excuses for how long it's been for this update because frankly I don't feel that any excuse would be worthy of the length. I will however apologize and state that I hope it will never take this long again!
Additional Authors Note: The pronunciations of the names in this chapter are as follows : Giuseppe (jess-e-pea) short e sound, Giusee (Jessie), Simmions (sim-ons), Philippe (phil-eep), Cavalli (ka-valley), Lydia (Li-d-a) Dagostino (Da-ga-steen-o). I hope this helps make the reading go more smoothly.

Warnings: Angst, VERY Mild Violence.

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Chapter 4

Giuseppe Simmons walked quickly down the sidewalk balancing a cardboard tray containing three steaming espresso cups. As he walked, a continuous breeze blew around his head sending his hair cascading across his face and causing him to scowl in frustration, and occasionally send a puff of exhaled air upward, blowing his blonde hair out of his face.

Looking both ways, an act of unconscious habit rather then necessity, he crossed the street, and entered the small gallery where he worked.

“Ah… Giusee,” A young black haired woman exclaimed as he pushed his way through the door, using his hip to open it rather then take a chance on tipping the tray, “I had started to think you were lost!” A grin spread across her face as she crossed the small lobby and held the door open so he could enter.

“I tried, Lydia, but this town is too small to get lost in!” He replied, returning her grin and putting the tray down on the counter.

“Even if you did manage to get lost, I would always find you.” A voice said from behind him, and Giusee spun around and smiled at the tall dark haired man standing in the archway leading to the main gallery.

Laughing, Giusee grabbed one of the cups of espresso, and handed it to the man as he replied, “Trust me, Philippe, if I chose to get lost, even you would not find me!”

Philippe rolled his eyes, turned to the side and took of sip of his drink as he watched his roommate pass thorough the archway and into the main exhibit hall.

Lydia Dagostino watched the interaction with a grin, and chuckled softly at the look of obvious adoration on Philippe’s face as his eyes followed Giusee around the corner.

“Perhaps you would find it easier if you simply told him how you feel.” She said quietly, her voice amused, yet sympathetic.

Philippe startled at the sound of her voice, his mind having wandered away in the direction that his friend had gone. He cursed under his breath as the still hot coffee sloshed over his hand, and he quickly straightened the cup so no more would spill.

“I have no idea what you mean!” He stammered quickly, his face coloring sharply.

“Sure!” Lydia said, and shrugged, a sly smile on her face, “Whatever you say Philly, but I see the way you look at Giusee, and I think that you should tell him how you feel for him!”

Philippe opened his mouth to reply, and then quickly closed it again when the bell over the front door chimed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael sighed heavily as they entered the small gallery. He and Brian had arrived in Venice, Italy, after a 13 hour trip that included a 45 minute lay over in Zurich, Switzerland, at 10:30 in the morning. Brian had hired a car and driver, and they had ridden the 60 miles to Cortina de’Ampezzo in the back of a fairly plush limo. Michael’s excitement over riding in the limo and the amazing views of the Italian Alps through which they drove, had been quickly overridden by fatigue, and he had ended up sleeping for much of the 90 minute ride.

They arrived at the hotel about noon, and after a quick lunch, of which Brian ate very little, Michael had tried to convince him that he should get some rest before they began their search, but Brian had insisted that he didn’t need rest.

Watching him, Michael had seen the desperate, almost manic look in his eyes, and realized that even if he tried, now that they were here in the same town that Justin had last been seen, Brian would not rest until he found him.

So, Michael resigned himself to that fact, and they had begun their search by asking the concierge at the hotel if there were any art galleries in town. Although Michael had argued that if Justin had lost his memory he may not remember he was an artist, Brian was adamant that that was the one thing that Justin would never forget, the urge and passion to create was simply too strong.

Now as they entered the small gallery, Michael began to feel nervous. Brian’s driven demeanor scared him. How would his friend react if Justin never remembered him? Or worse, what would it do to him if Justin did remember him but no longer wanted to be with him? And what of this man that Justin was supposedly living with?

As much as Michael knew that Brian needed to find Justin, there was a part of him that hoped they wouldn’t find him if he was only going to reject Brian in the end. He knew that after everything that had happened and all the time that Brian had spent mourning and pining for him, Justin rejecting him would more then likely push Brian to a place from which he might never recover.

“He’s here!” Brian suddenly whispered, and Michael looked quickly around.

“Where?” he replied, craning his neck to try to spot the blond head. “Do you see him?”

“No…” Brian replied, “but he’s here!”

Michael looked at Brian, confused, “How do you know he’s here if you can’t...?”

“I just know, Mikey!” Brian muttered, and approached the desk where a young black haired woman stood, smiling widely.

As Brian walked toward the desk, Michael looked around again, and spotted a tall handsome man who stood off to the side sipping coffee and watching Brian with a worshipful glint in his eye. Rolling his eyes Michael scoffed to himself and thought, Even unwashed and exhausted Brian can’t help but reel them in!

Suddenly the young man swung his eyes around and locked gazes with Michael. Michael smirked and nodded before turning back to Brian and the girl behind the counter.

“How can I help you sir’s?” The young woman asked, her English good but marked with a thick Italian accent.

Brian glanced at her name tag, and said, “We are looking for someone, he’s a friend of ours that has been missing for some time. We recently learned that he has been living here in Cortina de’Ampezzo. Perhaps you have seen him?” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out one of the photos of Justin that Charles had given him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Philippe’s sculptor’s eye awoke quickly as soon as he laid eyes on the two men. The shorter man was handsome in an unremarkable sort of way, and Philippe eyes did not linger on him. The taller of the two, however, was a beauty. Chestnut hair, deep hazel eyes, slender ethereal form. Philippe knew instinctively that he would be a wonderful subject to sculpt. His features, and the flowing plains of this body, soft enough to reflect timeless beauty and exotic sensuality, yet distinctly firm and sleek enough to translate well to textures of clay. He stood and sipped his coffee, watching the men and fantasizing about molding and shaping smooth clay into the form of this man. As he gazed at him, he began to realize that there was something very familiar about him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

The shorter man turned suddenly and looked around, brown eyes briefly locking with Philippe’s and smirking at his obvious admiration for his companion. He then turned back to his friend, and Philippe resumed watching as they approached the desk and spoke to Lydia, then took out a photograph.

Suddenly, the words he was saying penetrated Philippe’s creative haze and he realized with a jolt where he had seen this man before. Gulping the last mouthful of his coffee, he felt the hot liquid squeeze down his throat at the same time as he felt an inexplicably cold trickle of fear squeeze down his spine.

Without thinking, he quickly stepped up next to Lydia, and took the photo before she could get a good look at it. His hands shook a bit as he looked down into the face of his roommate, the man he had found himself falling in love with. That trickle of fear suddenly became a river that rushed up his spine and engulfed his heart. These men obviously knew Giusee, had been his friends before he lost his memory. Now that they were here, they would take him back to his home, and Philippe would likely never see him again.

Something in Philippe’s heart lurched, and he felt anger at these men. Where had they been all this time? Why had it taken so long for them to come looking for their ‘friend’? Before he could stop himself he blurted out, “He does not look familiar,” and quickly handed the picture back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brian glanced at the man who had stepped up to the counter, and frowned as he took the picture back. Something about him was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Are you sure? Perhaps if you looked a bit closer…?” He asked and tried to hand the picture to Lydia this time. As she eagerly reached out her hand for it, the other man pushed it back again and proclaimed quite loudly, “I am sure I have not seen him! If you are not interested in art, then perhaps you should go elsewhere. We can not help you find your ‘friend’!”

Brian bristled at the sarcasm apparent in the other man’s voice as he said ‘friend’, and opened his mouth to protest. He stopped when he felt Michael lay a hand on his arm.

“Come’on, Brian.” He said, his voice low, “let’s keep looking, ok?”

Brian shrugged Michael’s hand off his arm, and glared at the other man before shoving the photo back in his pocket and slamming his way out through the door of the gallery.

Michael glanced one last time at the man and woman behind the counter, taking in her sympathetic look, and his defiant glare before he turned and followed Brian out of the gallery.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the door closed behind the two men, Giusee came back around the corner, a concerned look on his face.

“Everything all right in here? I thought I heard shouting.”

“Everything is fine!” Philippe replied a bit too quickly. His face spread into a much too large and cheerful smile.

“Just some quite rude gentlemen looking for directions is all.” He continued, waving his hand to dismiss it as nothing.

Placing his hand on Giusee’s shoulder, he guided him back into the gallery, while swiftly changing the subject to that of the upcoming showing they were preparing for.

As they walked away, Lydia narrowed her eyes at Philippe’s lie. Because of Philippe’s interference, she had not gotten a very good look at the photo the man had been trying to show them. However, she had gotten a very good look at the man whose face she knew very well. As soon as she saw him, she knew without even looking that the photo he was attempting to show her was an image of Giusee.

Waiting until both men had turned the corner; Lydia rushed from behind the counter and looked out through the window to see if the two men were still on the street.

Glancing about, but not really expecting to see them, she was a bit surprised to find them right there on the sidewalk not far from the entrance to the gallery. They appeared to be having a disagreement, and the man who had tried to show her the picture was gesturing wildly toward the gallery.

Acting on impulse and curiosity, and without thinking about what she might be starting, Lydia opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Glancing behind her quickly to make sure that Philippe was still in the exhibit hall, she quietly closed the door behind her, and approached the two men.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck!” Brian spat, rubbing his tired eyes, and massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Brian…” Michael started, but ground to a halt when Brian spun around and glared at him.

“Dammit, Mikey… I’ve seen that fucker somewhere before… I just can’t…!”

Brian’s voice trailed off as he looked back toward the gallery, and spotted the girl from the lobby walking quickly toward them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He opened his eyes and realized that he was lying, quite naked, in a large raised bed. Propping himself on his elbows, he looked around an open room, big enough that the outer reaches of it were blurred and fuzzy. The room looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. As he gazed around, trying to remember where he was, a noise from his right startled him. Turning his head, he gasped and sat up quickly when another man walked from what could only be a bathroom, due to the glimpse of a mirror and sink just visible beyond the doorway.

The man was tall and slender, his body sleek and beautiful. As the man walked toward him, he couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to his rather impressive cock, which jutted outward, erect and proud. Feeling his mouth go dry, he couldn’t help but lick his lips as his gaze traveled up to meet that of the man that now stood next to the bed, hands on his hips in a predatory stance. When their eyes met, the other mans lips spread into a smirk, one finely shaped eyebrow raised questioningly and his hazel eyes flashed as he stated sarcastically, “See something you like, Sunshine?”

The door behind him slammed, and Giusee was jolted back to a table at the small café around the corner from the gallery.

Sighing, he squirmed quickly in the chair, trying to chase away the traces of arousal that the memory of his reoccurring dream always seemed to leave him with.

It still bothered him greatly that he seemed to have no memory of his life before he wandered down from the mountains and was found by an Italian farmer who was kind enough to take him in and nurse him back to health. Every now and then, something would flash through his mind, a glimpse of someone he maybe used to know, a place he might have been, but other then these occasional brief flashes, his memories seemed determined to remain forever buried.

The one image that continually returned with vivid clarity was this man from his dream. At first Giusee had been concerned, unsure as to whether it was a true memory, or simply something that his mind had cooked up as a result of having gone too long without sex.

After a while, whether it was real or not became unimportant, because Giusee had begun to actually look forward to this dream. He began to fantasize endlessly about the beautiful hazel eyed man, and found himself becoming obsessed with painting him. He had, in fact, painted him so many times and in so many different situations, that Philippe had begun to complain quite strenuously that there apartment seemed to be solely decorated with this mystery man’s image.

As he sat staring out the window, he wished again, for perhaps the millionth time that he knew who the mystery man was. Was he real? Did he exist out there somewhere in his past? Was he someone that Giusee had known before, a friend perhaps or even better a lover?

Sighing deeply, he signaled the waiter to refill his coffee cup, and craned his neck to look around at the street beyond the window.

Where is Lydia? He thought grumpily.

Late the evening before, she had called him and insisted that he meet her here for coffee before work. This in itself was not unusual, however her insistence that he come alone and not tell Philippe where we was going and her refusal to explain why, seemed extremely odd.

The three of them had worked together at the gallery for nearly eight months, and had become fast and tight friends. They spent all of their working hours together, and a great deal of their free time as well.

After having come into the village, Giusee had quickly sough employment and a place to live. One of the first places he looked had been the very café in which he now sat. Something about the place had made him feel comfortable and at home, as though he had been there or somewhere like it before. The day he went in looking, the owner had told him that rather then interviewing people, he was having them audition by working a three hour shift. Whoever performed the best and still wanted the job would be hired. Giusee had seemed to be a natural at waiting tables and fending off customer advances, so therefore he had been offered the job. That was where he had met Lydia.

Because she worked at the gallery around the corner, Lydia stopped in for coffee every morning on her way to work. At first, she had been interested in him as more then a friend. However when he had explained to her that, even though he had no memories of his past, he was quite sure he was gay, she had simply rolled her eyes, sighed in a disappointed, yet not wholly surprised manner, and declared that they would be best friends instead. She was the one that had introduced him to Philippe, and helped him get his job at the gallery.

She was also the one that convinced him that sharing a place with Philippe was a wonderful idea, her explanation being that, even though Philippe did not work at the gallery, his work was displayed there regularly, and therefore he spent more time there then some of the employees did, so it just made sense for them to be friends and roommates.

What she hadn’t said, but Giusee had quite quickly figured out anyway, was that Philippe was gay as well, and quite smitten with him. Apparently Lydia had decided that if she couldn’t have him, then he was perfect for her best friend instead.

Yesterday afternoon, after she had returned from her unexplained errand, Lydia had been acting odd. Looking at him oddly, and casting furtive looks of concern at Philippe whenever their friend was not looking.

Thinking back on her behavior, he began to worry that perhaps there was something wrong that she wanted to discuss with him before telling Philippe.

Glancing out the window again, he let out a quick sigh of relief when he spotted Lydia standing on the sidewalk talking to someone. The man she stood talking to was about medium height, with black hair and a compact build. He gestured with his hands as he spoke, and pointed to a taller man who stood beside him facing away from the café.

Curious, he raised his cup to drink the last dregs of his coffee and peeked as inconspicuously as possible at the trio outside the window over the rim of his cup.

As he watched, Lydia smiled at the man, gestured toward the café, and reached to open the door.

Suddenly, the empty cup in Giusee’s hand felt unbearably heavy, and his nearly lifeless fingers released their grip on it, causing in to thump loudly to the table top and come to rest on its side.

As Lydia and her companions entered the small café, Giusee sucked in his breath, and felt almost dizzy as his eyes met a pair of hazel eyes so familiar that he would know them anywhere.

TBC!

Home - What If Challenge Fic

2007-04-25T15:37:45Z

Home
Title: Home
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Summary: What if Justin Came To Babylon’s Re-opening
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip and Showtime. I own nothing... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.
Feedback: Yes, please...
Author's Note: One-Shot written for the 'What If?' Challenge at qaf_challenges . This is what I wish had happened at the end!

Home

Several minutes passed before Brian realized that Mikey was no longer dancing next to him. Brian danced alone on the platform above the crowd, watching his friends dancing with their partners and the parade of hot, sweaty men making their way in and out of the backroom.

What have you done today to make you feel proud…

‘Proud…’ he thought as the music washed over him, and his signature smirk flashed across his face as he closed his eyes and turned away from the backroom entrance, ‘I suppose I should be fucking proud of something…!’

A dozen things crossed through his mind, and he examined each one for traces of something to be proud of. One thing seemed to call out to him above the others, his ability to finally cut through the bullshit and admit how he felt about Justin. He contemplated this and decided that, yes he supposed he should feel proud of that, but for some reason the only feeling he had when he thought of this was fear, fear and a fucking shit load of pain and loneliness. In fact, if he was to honestly admit it to himself, lately those were the primary feelings he had in relation to thoughts of Justin. Loneliness for his blonde-haired, blue-eyed lover, and fear of never having the chance to truly be with him now that he had finally faced the fact that that was what he wanted.

Sure, he had clearly stated to Justin that it was ‘only time’ when Justin swore that they would see each other often, it didn’t really matter when or if they saw each other again, and at the time, he had truthfully meant it. However, when he had woken up the following morning, and Justin was gone, the shooting pain that went from his throat to his heart before settling firmly into his chest, told an entirely different story.

In the two months since then, Brian had learned to live with that searing pain, and had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that it wasn’t going away any time in the near future. So far, he had successfully resisted the urge fly off to New York and beg Justin to come home. For this, he did feel a small measure of pride. He might have gone a bit soft by finally admitting that his "I don't believe in love" credo was nothing more then a crock of shit, but he hadn't completely turned into a lesbian!

He admitted, but only to himself, that he was a bit hurt when Justin had told him he wouldn't be able to make it to Babylon’s re-opening. Brian had reassured him that he understood, all the time telling himself that he had been right all along. He just had to face the fact that New York was now Justin’s home and that Pittsburgh and Brian himself where no longer the main factors in his life.

Glancing around one more time at the writhing mass of flesh that pulsed and swayed around the platform where he stood, Brian felt the lonely feeling in his chest expand, and decided that he couldn’t handle watching for another minute.

Pasting his signature smirk firmly on his face, he stepped down into the sweaty masses, and fought his way through the throng to the stairs that led to his newly renovated and decorated office.

In his haste to escape the room and begin to drink away his loneliness, he failed to notice the pair of eyes that watched him ascend the stairs and disappear thorough the door marked ‘Club Personnel Only Beyond This Point.’

*************************************************************************

Brian was well into his third glass of Beam when he heard the tap at his office door. Swiveling his chair so he was facing the wall rather then the door, he yelled, “Fuck off!” His voice coming out hoarse and menacing.

A moment of silence followed, in which he decided that whoever it was had gotten the message and left. Tossing his head back, he drained his glass and reached for the bottle. Just as he began pouring himself another shot, he heard the knob rattle and the door start to open.

“Son of a BITCH!” He spat, throwing the partially full glass into the corner of the room with one hand and slamming the bottle back to the desk with the other as he spun around to confront his intruder. “What the hell part of ‘Fuck.Off’ do you not…” He growled, and the ground to a halt when he saw who was standing just inside the door of his office.

He stood in shock for a moment before he crossed the room in three quick strides, swooped the man standing there into his arms, and swiftly claimed his upturned lips.

A thump barely registered his ears, as Justin dropped the bag he was holding and raised his own arms to clutch at Brian’s back.

*************************************************************************

Brian lay on his back on the sofa, Justin draped across his body with his head tucked into the crook of his neck as Brian fought to keep the grin off his face.

Justin turned his neck and looked at him, his sunshine grin firmly in place as he stroked his fingers across Brian’s chest and kissed up his throat to his chin and then his lips.

“I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it.” Brian said, his voice low, causing his throat to vibrate under Justin’s lips as he made his way back down his throat.

“I thought about it, and decided I couldn’t let Babylon reopen without it’s king in attendance.” Justin replied, burying his lips in Brian’s neck and beginning to nibble gently at the tender skin where his neck and shoulder joined. Brian groaned softly, and chuckled, his fingers stroking gently up and down Justin’s side.

“Hmm…” Brian said, and suddenly smacked Justin’s ass before giving him a shove to make him get up. “In that case, your highness, I suggest we treat your subjects to a dance… show them that their king still has all his royal moves!”

Justin grinned again, and followed Brian as he ducked into his private bathroom. A quick shower and reciprocated blow jobs later, Brain exited his office with Justin by his side, hands firmly clasped.

Walking slowly down the stairs, Brian pulled Justin along and they mounted the platform that Brian and Mikey had occupied earlier in the evening.

As they danced and swayed to the music, groins grinding together, and arms firmly wrapped around each other, the throng of sweaty men around them began to fade until they seemed to be the only people in the room. It had always been this way for them, and Brian suddenly realized that he had never wanted it any other way.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He whispered, his lips pressed to Justin’s ear so he could hear him.

“Yeah!” Justin replied, rubbing his hand up Brian’s back and burying his fingers in his hair, “It’s great to be home!”

The End

A Chance Occurrence In An Otherwise Normal Life - Chapter 18

2007-03-28T21:20:07Z

A Chance Occurrence in an Otherwise Normal Life
Title: Chapter 18: A Return to Paradise...?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ennis/Jack
Summary: For years Jack has been trying to convince Ennis to build a life with him, but Ennis is scared to do it. Would that change if Ennis was suddenly able to hear everything that Jack and others around them thought when they see them together? Ennis and Jack are finally in their new home in Fort Collins...
Disclaimer: By now I shouldn’t need ta tell ya they ain’t mine… but just in case… they ain’t!
Feedback: Yes, please...
Author's Note: None

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Chapter 18: A Return to Paradise…?

Ennis and Jack remained in Lighting Flat for another two weeks, until Sara was back on her feet, and the doctor had declared her, “Fit as a fiddle”.

The day they left was sunny, and warm. Jack turned back and waved at the small group standing in the yard. The evening before, at dinner, Ennis had issued an invitation for Uncle Harold and Aunt Gretchen to come and visit. They had promised to do so soon, promising that Sara would come along with them whether John liked it or not.

John Twist had been strangely absent the last few days of their stay, only turning up at meal times, and stumbling in drunk as a loon each night after everyone else was asleep. Ennis hadn’t missed the man’s sour face and muttered insults, but he knew that despite everything, Sara was worried, and therefore he was glad to see him step up behind the others as they drove away. For once he appeared to be sober, although the look on his face would have wilted the hardiest of flowers. Glancing quickly at Jack, Ennis couldn’t help but echo his thought of, Thank God Uncle Harold is there ta keep ‘em in line!

The drive from Lightning Flat to Fort Collins took a little over seven and a half hours, with Ennis driving most of the way, and Jack either snoring peacefully with his head on Ennis’ shoulder, or chattering away about the ranch and how good it was gonna be to be home.

When they pulled through the gate is was a little after three thirty in the afternoon, Pete and Gary were standing in the yard talking to Sandy.

When he recognized the truck Sandy waved, a big grin on his face.

Ennis parked the truck next to the barn and leaned back with a sigh. Looking over at Jack, he couldn’t help but grin at him.

Jack grinned back, and then opened his truck door and jumped out into the yard.

Scamp and Scraps, the two Blue tick hounds that Jack had insisted they get several months earlier, claiming that they needed a pair of good watch dogs, came running across the yard, yipping and howling, their tails wagging a mile a minute.

“Heya, fellas!” Jack called, and crouched down to greet the dogs as they excitedly jumped and nuzzled their favorite playmate.

Ennis suppressed a grin as he watched Jack wrestle around on the ground with the dogs, and then headed across the yard to greet Sandy and the other men.

Ennis shook hands all around, and then stood chatting with Gary and Pete about the ranch. A few minutes later, Jack joined them. After another exchange of pleasantries, Sandy began to shift about and act restless. Sensing that he had something he wanted to talk to them about, Ennis suggested they go up to the house for a cold drink.

As they went, Ennis listened to Sandy and Jack chatting away, but he could hear Sandy’s thoughts and though there was nothing specific, what he heard made him uneasy.

Once inside, the three men each grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, and settled in around the kitchen table.

“Ok, Sandy. What’s botherin’ ya?” Ennis asked, antsy and worried about Sandy’s disquiet and obvious concern.

“Sure am glad yer back boys. There’s been some talk stirrin’ up ‘bout ya having skipped town, what with Stubbs running his mouth ‘bout the stuff his uncle told him.” Seeing the look of anger and concern that crossed Ennis’ face, Sandy hastened to add, “Course, most folks round here don’t really care one way or the other. In fact, the majority of folks are down right disgusted with Stubbs and his filthy mouth.” He smiled grimly, and Ennis heard, Too damn bad they can’t all be that smart.

Sighing, Ennis glanced quickly at Jack and then turning to Sandy asked in a tense voice, “What else? Got a feelin’ there’s somethin’ ya ain’t sayin’.”

Twisting his hat, Sandy looked down for a moment, and then looked at Ennis again, “It seems that Stubbs has himself a new friend. New fella in town. I ain’ had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but from what I’ve heard tell, he’s got a real grudge against the two of ya.”

Sandy looked down again, and when he raised his eyes, Ennis could see real sympathy in them.

“I think ya may know the fella I’m talkin’ bout, Ennis. Talk around town says his name is Ken… Ken Del Mar.”

Ennis gasped, and felt the blood drain from his face. Behind him he heard Jack curse, and thump his fist down on the table.

Shit! Fuckin’ bastard… just knew he weren’ gonna let it go that easy!

“I take it ya know him.” Sandy said, already knowing the answer, and feeling bad about having to confirm it.

“Yup…” Ennis said after a second, the shock and fear on his face quickly giving way to anger. “That would be my asshole brother.”

Sandy simply nodded. “Well, at this point, all it is is a bunch of talk. Just figured ya oughta know what’s in the wind so’s you can keep yer eyes open fer trouble.”

“Thanks, Sandy.” Jack said, clapping him on the shoulder.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, as they lay in bed listening to the horses wicker in the barn and the wind blowing across the field, Jack turned to Ennis, wrapping an arm around his waist and said, “Do ya think he’ll cause trouble? I mean… he’s yer brother… ya don’ think he’ll do anything really bad… do ya?”

Sighing, Ennis slid his hand up Jack’s arm, and leaned forward to kiss the top of his head. “I don’ know, Bud. K.E., he ain’ a bit like me. He told me once… when I first came back home in ’63, if he ever found out you and me was together again he’d kill us both.”

“I know… ya told me all bout that after ya saw him in Riverton. But Ennis… ya don’ think he’d really do it do ya?”

Ennis sighed again, and pulled Jack close, as though he wanted to fuse their bodies together. Shaking his head, he said in a low voice, “I don’ know, Darlin’, I just don’t know.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Ennis and Jack saddled up their horses, and went for a ride around the fence line.

Fortunately, the drought appeared to have ended in their absence and the snakes had ceased their overly aggressive behavior. This being the case, the horses had resumed their usual lazy pasture time, and the men were able to concentrate their efforts on catching up with some of the repairs and maintenance that had been placed on hold while the extra field patrols had been required.

As they rode along, Ennis and Jack talked little. They had no need to. A look or a touch between them seemed to convey a shared pride and joy in what they had… what they had managed to accomplish between the two of them.

*As they crossed the dirt road that wound around the outside of the pasture fence, Jack turned and looked at Ennis. A ray of sunlight burst through the leaves on a large maple tree, and lit on Ennis astride his horse, making him seem to glow. Jack sucked in his breath, and thought wistfully, God, but he is beautiful!

At that moment, having heard Jack’s thoughts, Ennis turned and looked at him, and the smile that lit up his face, seemed to make the sun’s light dim in comparision. Jack smiled back, and felt a swell of love rush through him. Yup… so fuckin’ beautiful!

When they reached the northern edge of the property, they turned and looked back over the distance. Taking in the full expanse of their property, the sprawling fields and buildings, and the magnificent horses, their coats gleaming when the sun hit them.

Without looking at him, Jack reached out a hand to Ennis, and smiled widely when he felt Ennis’ hand meet his.

This… this is the sweet life I always dreamed of… and it’s ours! Mine and Ennis’… ain’ no way I’m gonna let anyone…’specially K.E. Del Mar take it away from us!

Ennis frowned at this, and was about to say something. Then he thought better of it, and decided it best to keep his mouth shut. Jack had every right to want to protect what they had, and talking weren’t gonna solve nothing.

Looking back out over the fields, and then back at Jack, Ennis realized that the thoughts in his mind were just the same…. Ain’ no way I’m gonna let anyone take it away from us.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, after a quick supper and another short ride around the pasture, Jack lit a fire in the fireplace, and they sat on the couch. Each had a cold beer. They sat in companionable silence for a while. Ennis leaning against the arm of the couch, and Jack reclined against his chest, the blanket from the chair tucked in tightly over the both of them.

When Ennis heard Jack’s thoughts turning to the situation with K.E. and Stubbs, he decided to distract him, and began to slowly run his fingers through his hair, the way Jack liked. Jack’s thoughts quickly switched gears, and before long they had moved from the couch to the rug in front of the fire.

What started out as gentle teasing and caressing quickly became hot and heavy, and soon Ennis found himself flat on his back, Jack sitting on him and riding him like a Brahma bull.

Ennis watched as the firelight played across Jack’s skin, flickering and sending bolts of light and shadow darting across his face and torso with every movement.

Jack opened his eyes, and gazed down at him, the light sparkling through his black hair and lighting up his eyes so that they glowed, whispering, “Yer so beautiful, Ennis… love ya so much.”

As the words coursed through his mind, Ennis thrust upward and came hard, Jack crying out his own release at Ennis’ hard thrust. As he spilled himself inside Jack’s body, one thought flitted quickly through his mind.

No, Jack… yer wrong… when it comes ta beautiful… yer the winner, hands down!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ennis woke up to a loud pounding on the door, and voices yelling outside. He and Jack were both asleep on the living room floor. At some point, the fire must have gone out, and they were both huddled under the blanket, still naked.

Scrambling up, he shoved Jack who immediately rolled sideways, and hit the coffee table with a thud and a muttered, “What the hell, Ennis!”

“Quick, get dressed! Someone’s poundin’ on the door! I don’ want ta let em in and have ya layin’ nekkid on the livin’ room floor! That’d be all we need right ‘bout now!”

Cursing, Jack scrambled up and began yanking his pants on. Ennis finished buttoning his shirt, and glanced back as he headed to the door. Seeing that Jack was pulling his shirt on, and had already scooped up the blanket and tossed it back on the chair, he went to the door and pushed back the shade to see who was pounding in the middle of the damn night.

Standing on the doorstep looking dirty and scared half to death, was Pete. Ennis whipped open the door and growled, “This better be good, Pete! Ya got any idea what time it is….?” Suddenly he groud to a stop, and really looked at the man.

Pete’s face and hands were covered with black smudges, and he was flushed and breathing heard.

“Shit! Pete… what’s…”

Finally catching his breath enough to talk, Pete interrupted him and gasped, “The barn’s on fire!”

“Fuck!” Jack yelled from behind him and followed Ennis as he lit out across the yard toward the barn. As he ran, he could see billows of smoke blocking out the stars, and an orange glow around through the side windows of the building.

Ennis and Jack raced across the lawn and stopped at the knot of men standing there.

“Jesus,” Ennis said, and realizing that there was no way they could put this out on their own, turned to run back to the house racing to the phone and calling the fire Dept. and the sheriff’s office. The dispatcher told Ennis that Sandy was not in, but said that she would call him on the radio and send him out to the ranch as quickly as he could get there.

Hanging up, Ennis quickly ran back out to the barn, grabbing his and Jack’s work gloves off the bench by the door on his way out.

Halfway back to the barn, he saw Gary standing quite close to the doors yelling frantically and nearly in tears.

Racing up to him, Ennis gasped, “Gary… what… are you burnt…?”

Ennis glanced around the yard for Jack, and then turned back to Gary, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Gary, where’s…?”

Gary cut him off with a half sob half shout and said frantically, “Ennis… Jack… he went inside! Salamar is still in there, and he went in to get her!”

“Oh God! No!” Ennis gasped, his face losing all color as he looked at the blazing barn, black smoke billowing out of the open hay loft. He started toward the barn and Gary grabbed his arm, holding him back.

“Ennis… ya can’t go in there… you’ll not make it out! I’m sorry… but… Jack… he’s…”

“NO!” Ennis yelled, and wrenched his arm out of Gary’s grip. Running across the yard, he darted into the barn yelling Jack’s name.

Another Face In the Crowd - Chapter 3

2007-03-28T06:44:25Z

Another Face In The Crowd
Title: Chapter 3
Rating: NC-17 story as a whole, PG-13 this chapter (language)
Pairing: Justin/OC, Brian/other, Brian/Justin
Summary: While on a ski trip, Justin is lost in an avalanche and presumed dead. 2 years later everyone has moved on as best they can. Then one day Brian sees a man on T.V. that bears a striking resemblance to Justin. Can Brian find this mystery look alike, and is it really Justin? Most importantly... can love conquer all?
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip. I own nothing... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.
Feedback: Yes please...
Author's note: Here’s the next chapter… hope everyone likes it. This is a bit of a transitional chapter... the real action starts in the next chapter, which is nearly completed! This is a very important chapter though, because it answers a few questions that I am sure you all want answers to! I know Brian sure did! :)

Warnings: None, Angst

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Chapter 3

Brian opened his eyes to nothing but blinding white, and a heavy weight pressing on his chest. Attempting to turn his head slightly, he began to feel panic as he realized that he could not move his head more then an inch or so. Frantically moving his arms and legs about, he felt a rush of relief as the weight pressing down on him seemed to lighten, and his hands punched through the suffocating layer of white that covered him.

Pushing himself with his arms and legs, he sat up, and then very slowly stood up. Looking around he realized that he was on a snow-covered mountainside. Large ripples of snow lay piled up around him. Sticking out of one of them was a ski pole. Dangling from the handgrip was a small, intricately carved, silver charm. A sun charm. Brian remembered purchasing the ski poles, personality charm’s and a matching set of skis for Justin when he had first told him about his planned ski trip.

Fighting back a wave of fear and despair he realized with a sick jolt, that Justin was buried under that snow, just as he had been. Uttering a choked cry, he raced to the snow mound, and began frantically digging and yelling Justin’s name.

Suddenly, from behind him, Brian heard a voice calling his name.

“Brian… wake up…”

“NO!” Brian shouted, and began digging harder and faster, “No… I have to find him!”

“Brian…” Brian felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, “Come on, Brian… wake up…”

“No…Justin… he’s here… I have to find him! Justin!” Brian yelled, and felt a tear trickle down his face, it’s warmth quickly turning cold, trailing a path of ice down his cheek. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was no longer kneeling in the snow. He was standing at the top of the mountain. He looked around, confused. Several yards away, further down the slope, was a group skiers. Brian watched as the 4 of them, keeping to a tight group, made their way down the slope. Weaving and racing, they appeared to be having a good time, and as the wind blew up the side of the mountain, Brian caught the faint sound of Justin’s familiar laughter.

Suddenly, Brian saw the snow just in front of him begin to shift and slide. The group of skiers continued down the slope, seemingly unaware of the wall of snow that was rapidly picking up speed and sliding straight toward them.

“Justin!” Brian choked out, and felt his heart lurch with the knowledge that his intended shout came out as merely a whisper, immediately drowned out by the roar of the quickly accelerating snow wall. Incredibly, though he knew there was no way he could have been heard, Justin stopped and turned, looking right at him. He waved, but showed no fear, as though he saw him there but somehow could not see the impending danger. Across the distance, Brian saw a pair of bright blue eyes and a flash of Justin’s trademark smile as the snow wall reached him and he was engulfed and disappeared,

“Justin! Oh, God… no! JUSTIN!”

Suddenly, he was again kneeling in front of a mound of snow and digging furiously and yelling Justin’s name while the small sun charm glittered and shined mockingly in the sunlight.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“JUSTIN!” Brian yelled, and moved his arms about as though he were digging.

Michael dodged Brian’s flailing arms and tried once again to wake him from his obvious nightmare.

“Brian… wake up!” He finally said, his voice much louder then before and Brian’s eyes snapped open. He looked around frantically, breathing hard before seeing Michael and realizing where he was.

“Sir…”

Michael turned and saw a woman standing in the isle next to him. On her collar was a Liberty Air patch, and she wore a nametag with the airline’s logo and the name Janice engraved on it.

“Sir… is everything all right?”

“I’m sorry.” Michael said quietly, and glanced around to see that most of the passengers were now awake and staring in their direction, “my friend was having a bad dream.”

She looked at Brian, and smiled sympathetically as she asked, “can I get you anything, sir?”

“Jim Beam… straight up!” Brian said in a gruff voice, as he took a steadying breath, ignoring Michael’s frown.

“Right away sir.” The flight attendant replied, and headed off toward the galley, stopping to reassure some of the shaken passengers along the way.

“Brian… don’t you…” Michael began, intending to convey his belief that Brian should remain sober.

“No, Mikey… I don’t!” Brian replied in his “fuck off and leave me be” tone of voice.

Frowning again, but not wanting to get into a fight on a crowded airplane, especially considering they had already managed to cause a scene and scare the other passengers half to death, Michael kept his thoughts to himself for the moment.

Sighing with relief that Michael had not pushed the issue, Brian turned and looked out the plane window at the sea of blackness outside.

It had been exactly one month since Brian had seen Justin on TV. In that time, Brian had not gotten more the a couple hours of sleep a night. The first few nights had been spent trying to convince Michael that he wasn’t crazy and that they really had seen Justin.

When simply talking had not helped, Brian had contacted an old collogue of his from Ryder that now worked in the PR department at ESPN in New York. Two days later, he had received a copy of the telecast. Determined to prove that he was not seeing things, or ‘wishful thinking’, Brian had convinced Debbie to let him show it at the family dinner on Sunday afternoon.

As the entire family sat watching, Brian looked at the expressions of sympathy and discomfort on their faces and, began to panic. What if he was wrong, what if the man he had seen didn’t look anything at all like Justin? What if Mikey, Ted and Emmett were right, and he had simply wanted to see Justin so badly that he had become convinced that some other blond haired person was Justin?

Then suddenly, there he was on the screen. Brian heard the audible gasps from the others, and knew without a doubt that he had been right. There was no mistaking the shining blond hair and blinding smile. The man on the screen had to be Justin.

Pandemonium ensued, and the remainder of the evening had been spent with repeated exclamations of disbelief and curiosity on how Justin how come to be in England, and why he had not contacted anyone to inform them that he was still alive.

Once he had managed to convince the family that the man he had seen was Justin, he began his search in earnest. Frantically looking up the rider whom Justin had been cheering for, and then calling Italy to find out everything he could about him. Next, he had spent days calling everyone he could find that had anything to do with the Tour De France, or the riders themselves. When this led him nowhere, Brian then decided that the needed to hire a private detective.

At first, the search had turned up nothing. No one that looked like Justin was remembered to either be living or visiting in the city where the race had originated. Finally, when Brian had just begun to believe that they would never find anything, he received a visitor that changed everything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting at his desk going over the boards for the newest Brown Athletics campaign, Brian found his mind wandering. When the phone on his desk rang, he jumped, and sent his pencil cup sprawling across the desk, pencils rolling every which way.

“Shit!” He growled, and snatched up the receiver.

“What?” He barked into the phone as he braced it between his ear and his shoulder, and began scooping up the escaping pencils with both hands.

“Brian,” Cynthia stated, unfazed. She was quite used to her bosses abrupt manner and aware of his added stress since the ‘Justin sighting’, “there is a man here to see you… says he is a Charles Fenton. He doesn’t have an appointment, but said that you would want to see him anyway.”

Brian sat up straighter in his chair, and the receiver tighter to his ear. Charles Fenton was the private detective Brian had hired to try to find out more about the man Brian believed to be his missing partner. At their last meeting, Charles had stated that he would not be back until there was something substantial to report. His suddenly showing up at the office could only mean one thing. He had found something.

“Send him in Cynthia… and Cynthia…” he said, his voice suddenly tense but much less irritable.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Come in with him please.” Brian concluded, his voice quiet.

“Sure, Brian.” Cynthia replied, her voice revealing her confusion and concern.

The door opened, and a tall thin man with slightly graying black hair and goatee followed Cynthia into the office.

“Charles,” Brian said and extended his hand to the man.

“Brian,” Charles replied, waiting until Cynthia was seated before seating himself in the chair next to Brian’s desk.

“How have you been?” Charles asked as he lifted his briefcase to a small end table next to his chair.

“Fine, and you?” Brian said and waved his hand dismissively, impatience clear in the tone of his voice.

Charles chuckled, and snapped open this briefcase. He pulled out a manila folder and tossed it onto Brian’s desk.

“So much for small talk! I think you might find this of interest to you.” He said, a smug smile on his face.

Brian stared at the folder for a moment, a lump of fear and anxiety welling up in his throat. He wanted to grab it up and devour the contents, but at the same time, he was scared to death to know what was in it.

Swallowing past the lump, Brian reached out and opened the folder. Staring back at him was a smile that he would know anywhere.

Sucking in his breath, he picked up the stack of photos and began to leaf through them. Each one showed Justin in a different location around what was obviously a European town.

Under the pictures was a newspaper article clipped from a small regional Italian newspaper. The article was a little over 18 months old and told the story of a young man who was found wandering the wilderness near the base of the Alps. The young man had no memory of who he was and how he had come to be stumbling about with a broken arm and a gash on this forehead.

From the article Brian discovered that the man was taken to the cabin of a poor mountain farmer who spoke no English, had probably not read or heard anything about anyone missing in the avalanche. Because of the weather and location, the man remained there in the farmers small cabin for the duration of the winter season. When the seasons changed, the man came down from the mountain and took up residence in the village of Cortina de’Ampezzo .

“Apparently,” Charles began when he was sure that Brian had read the article and was once again staring at the pictures in his hands, “by the time he came back down to civilization, the story of the missing skiers was quite old news, and the searches were long over. When he showed up without any memory of his past or how he ended up alone in the woods, it had been long enough that no one made the connection.”

“The rider whom he was supporting is a friend of a friend. I gather that he went to England with his friend to show support… lucky break that you saw him there… otherwise you might never have found him!”

“Is he still living there… in…” Brian looked back through the articles and found the name of the village, “in Cortina de’Ampezzo?”

“Yes.” Charles said, smiling smugly, “I took those pictures of him there myself two days ago.”

Brian looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that made him frown. “What?” he asked, a bad feeling swelling in his stomach.

“The man in some of the pictures with him, he’s living with him,” Charles replied, “names Philippe Cavalli.” Meeting Brian’s eyes he smiled sympathetically.

Brian nodded and looked at the pictures again, this time concentrating on the tall dark haired man standing next to Justin. His skin was pale, his smiling lips red and his eyes dark and brooding.

“I see.” He said, and placed the pictures and article back in the folder.

After a few moments, he closed the folder and looked up at Cynthia, “Cynthia, book me two tickets to whatever airport is closest to Cortina de’Ampezzo.”

“Two tickets?” Cynthia asked, puzzled.

“Yes...” Brian said, opening the folder and removing the top picture again. He knew without asking that Mikey would gladly go with him. Would know, without having to be told, that he needed him there for moral support for what could potentially be a very painful reunion.

He stood there looking at it for a moment, and then added, “and three return tickets!”

That had been a week ago. That very night, the nightmares had returned. Dreams of Justin being swept away by waves of snow. Buried and dying, and Brian completely unable to save him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Brian had known he would, Mikey had quickly agreed to accompany him. Ben had been supportive and offered to help in any way that he could. Brian had agreed to allow him to be the official go between for news. When there was anything to report he would be the one to tell the rest of the family. This took a great deal of weight off Brian’s shoulders by not having to worry about calling everyone each time any little thing happened. This would also, hopefully, keep the others from calling and hounding them endlessly for news.

Now, as the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker and announced that they were beginning their decent, and would be landing in less then thirty minutes, Brian glanced at his friend and felt a profound wash of gratitude for him. He didn’t know what he would find here, and wasn’t sure what was in store, but he was very glad that his best friend and confidante was there to face it with him.

Sensing Brian’s gaze, Michael looked up and smiled encouragingly. “Don’t worry, Brian… we’ll find him!” He said, and patted Brian’s knee.

“I know Mikey… I’m just…”

“Just what?” Mikey asked,

“I’m just really glad you’re here,” Brian said, and leaned forward to place a light kiss on Michael’s cheek.

Michael smiled in return, held Brian’s hand, watching as Brian leaned his head back against his headrest, and resumed looking out the window.

Another Face In The Crowd - Chapter 2

2007-02-19T00:09:50Z

Another Face In The Crowd
Title: Chapter 2

Rating: NC-17 story as a whole, PG-13 this chapter (language)

Pairing: Justin/OC, Brian/other, Brian/Justin

Summary: While on a ski trip, Justin is lost in an avalanche and presumed dead. 2 years later everyone has moved on as best they can. Then one day Brian sees a man on T.V. that bears a striking resemblance to Justin. Can Brian find this mystery look alike, and is it really Justin? Most importantly... can love conquer all?

Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip and Showtime. I own nothing... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.

Feedback: Yes please...

Author's note: Here’s the next chapter… hope everyone likes it.

Warnings: Not much… more angst is about all, though not quite so heavy. I promise that the NC-17 stuff is coming!

Chapter 2

The inside of Woody’s was smoky and crowded as usual. The TV over the bar was tuned in to ESPN and showing the opening ceremony for the Tour de France. Michael and Brian made their way to the bar where Ted and Emmett sat perched on stools oohing and aahing over the riders in their tight spandex riding shorts, and commenting about how much they wished the Liberty Ride had taken place during the summer.

Brian ordered a double Jim Beam, and slumped down on his stool. He listened to the conversation, and grunted or snorted occasionally at something that sounded particularly stupid to him, but his mind was elsewhere.

A tall blonde walked by, cruising him shamelessly, for the third time, and Brian huffed at him and scowled, “Jesus, can’t you take a hint? Not. Interested!” Slamming his drink down on the bar, he stood up, and stomped toward the men’s room, pushing aside another hopeful looking twink before slamming his way through the door to the bathroom.

Still sitting at the bar, Ted and Michael watched him go, matching sad looks on their faces.

“Wow,” Emmett said finally, taking a sip of his Cosmo and placing the empty glass on the bar, motioning for a refill, “he looked pretty hot to me!”

“There’s nothing wrong with the trick.” Michael responded, looking away, and also motioning for a refill.

“Other than the fact that he’s blonde,” Ted muttered, looking into his glass of coke and frowning.

“Since when is being blonde a… Oh!” Emmett said, comprehension suddenly crossing his face.

“You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed?” Ted stated, looking at Emmett curiously.

“If not you’re the only one who hasn’t.” Michael snorted, taking a swig of his fresh beer, and glancing toward the men’s room.

“You mean to say that he hasn’t been with a blonde since Justin….” Emmett paused here and cleared his throat before he lowered his voice and continued, “Died?”

“Not a one!” Ted replied.

“Oh my,” Emmett said, taking a sip of drink the bartender placed in front of him and turning to look toward the bathroom door, “oh, poor baby!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years… 2 fucking years! Why after all this time does it still hurt so damn much? Brian splashed cold water on his face and fought to compose himself. I should go out and grab that blonde twink, drag him back in here and fuck the shit out of him. Maybe then, I could look at a blonde without thinking about him!

Sighing, Brian looked at himself in the mirror and frowned.

Brian’s philosophy of ‘I don’t believe in love, I believe in fucking’ had been as much a cover to keep himself from getting hurt as anything else. Meeting Justin had been frightening, mostly because Justin made him think about his life, and see what it could be like if he would just allow himself to love and be loved.

In truth, Brian had known how he felt about Justin almost from the second night they were together, and that scared the hell out of him. Suddenly here was this insistent blonde twink, beautiful, intelligent, annoying as hell and almost as stubborn as Brian himself. His determination and stubborn refusal to admit defeat scared Brain, but what scared him the most was much he enjoyed spending time with Justin, how good it felt just to be with him.

His own stubbornness and fear had kept him from admitting how he felt, even to himself, and prompted him to hurt Justin repeatedly for far too long. Fear of rejection, and ridicule from those who viewed him as ‘The Stud of Liberty Ave.’, of losing that hard won edge of respect he received even from those who hated him for who he was, caused him to fight his feelings tooth and nail. Refusing to acknowledge that Justin meant anything to him at all, insisting that the feelings he had for him were nothing more the a desire to get laid, in the foolish belief that as long as he denied them, the feelings weren’t real.

Even through all his denial, on more than one occasion he had come close to throwing caution to the wind, and admitting how he felt about Justin. Each time something had happened that had stayed his tongue and caused him to withdraw into his skewed beliefs. The first such occasion had been Justin’s prom. After their amazing dance, Brian had felt things he had always convinced himself didn’t exist. He made the decision then and there that he would tell Justin how he felt that very night. Chris Hobbs had effectively put a stop to that with one swing of a baseball bat.

Once again, Brian had decided to tell Justin how he felt after he and Justin had reunited following Justin’s release from the hospital. Justin’s mother had put a stop to that by asking Brian to leave Justin alone and not see him again.

The third time had been the night that he returned home from Chicago, champagne in hand and happy enough to finally give in and acknowledge that he and Justin were indeed partners. Justin himself had ruined that by not being there to hear the declaration, and having gone off the Vermont on his own.

After that, and the ‘Ian incident’ as he liked to call it when he was feeling snarky, Brian had kept his feelings buried. Once again convincing himself that Love was a Hetro lie.

After Justin had left him that last time, and moved into his crappy studio, Brian had tried hard to convince himself that things had worked out the way they should have. He didn’t need Justin or anyone else in his life. He could live without Justin and all of the crap that went with his desire for a Stepford fag lifestyle.

Of course, the bombing of Babylon had forced his hand, finally making him realize that, though he could live without Justin, he simply did not want to. The thought of losing him was more than he could bear, and at last, he had admitted what he had felt all along, at the same time realizing that perhaps love and monogamy were not the curse he had always told himself they were.

Brian sometimes wondered how different things might have been if he had been able to tell Justin how he felt sooner, if he could have let himself love Justin from the beginning, and fuck what everyone else thought. Would things have worked out differently? Would Justin still be alive, or would they have been there together and perhaps both been killed.

Sometimes Brian wished that were the case, that he had been there too. At least that way he wouldn’t have to live everyday with the horrible knowledge that Justin, his beautiful, smart, talented partner, was gone and the hole in his chest where his heart used to be would never be filled again.

Realizing that he had been gone for awhile, and knowing that Mikey would come looking for him if he didn’t return soon, Brian wiped his face with a wet paper towel, straightened his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair. Satisfied that his red eyes simply reflected that he was tired, he turned and left the men’s room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael sat watching the men’s room door, waiting for Brian to emerge. He was worried, though he tried hard not to let on to Brian that he had noticed a difference, Michael could sense that Brain was sinking back into depression. It happened every year when the anniversary of Justin’s disappearance drew near. Each year it seemed to worsen, and he knew that any day now he would call the loft to find that Brian was not there. Each year on the exact day of Justin’s death, Brian would retreat to Britin and remain there for several days.

Several times, Michael and Ted had tried to convince Brian that he should sell the mansion. Though their reasons differed, their arguments were the same. It was not healthy for Brian to continue to own a house that he never lived in and refused to allow anyone but himself to enter simply because it had been Justin’s dream house.

Michael remembered one such conversation during which he had become frustrated with his friend’s refusal to listen and had stated rather loudly, “For Christ sake, Brian, Justin never even lived in the damn house!”

He knew the instant the words left his lips that he had made a grievous error. He watched in horror as Brian’s face twisted first in pain and then in intense fury.

“God, Brian, I’m sor…” He began to apologize. Only to be cut off by Brian, speaking in a voice so cold and horrible that had he not been in the room he would never have believed it was his friend.

“Fuck you, Michael… just… get the fuck out here!”

“Brian… please… I” Michael tried once again to apologize, and cut off quickly at the look of fury in Brian’s eyes.

He quickly backed up toward the door as Brian lunged forward and screamed, “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Michael quickly pulled the loft door open and stepped out through. As he closed it behind him, he heard a loud crash of breaking glass, followed by a “fuck” and a muffled sob.

Later that evening, he sat at the diner and related the episode to his mother, who quickly cuffed him hard on the back of the head and said, “Fuck, Michael! What the hell were you thinking? Isn’t it bad enough that he lost Sunshine just when they were finally happy? Did you have to throw it in his face like that?”

“I know, Ma, I know.” Michael said sadly.

It had been nearly a month after that before Brian had spoken to him again. During that month, Brian had spent his second period of retreat at Britin.

The second day after his return, he showed up at Michael’s shop. He looked to have lost weight, and appeared as though he hadn’t slept in days. He greeted Michael in a dull voice. They had spoken for several minutes. Twice Michael had tried to apologize for what he had said. Both times, Brian have waved him off and told him to forget it.

It had taken some time, but eventually the tension between them had dissipated and things had returned to normal between them. Now Michael could once again see the signs of depression in Brian as the third anniversary crept closer, and just as before, he was at a loss as to how he could help his friend cope.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Brian finally exit the men’s room and head back toward the bar.

“Everything alright?” He asked quietly as Brian slid back onto his stool and signaled the bartender to bring him another drink.

“Everything’s just fabulous!” Brian stated in a sarcastically cheerful voice as he picked up the glass the bartender set in front of him and downed it in one gulp.

Michael could tell from the tone of Brian’s voice that he was not in the mood to chat, and it was best to leave him be, so he turned back to Ted and Emmett and listened to their discussion about Ted and Blake’s upcoming commitment ceremony.

Suddenly, Michael felt Brian sit bolt upright on his stool. Thinking that it was due to Emmett’s mention of Golden Gardenias, and remembering that was the flower that Justin had wanted for their ceremony, Michael turned quickly. As soon as he took in Brian’s white face and stiff posture, he knew that something was very wrong.

“Brian… what’s…?” He began, and jumped when Brian suddenly whispered, “Justin…”

“What?” Michael said, and touched Brian’s shoulder. Brian almost never spoke about Justin directly, and Michael had felt from the beginning that it might be easier for him to get past it and move on if he could talk about him. Wanting to encourage him to continue, he quickly spun on Ted and Emmett and said in a harsh whisper, “Shut up for a minute!”

Turning back to Brian, he touched his rigid shoulder again and said, “Brian, what is it… what about Justin?”

As the bartender walked in front of them, blocking their view of the TV, Brian reached forward and pushed him away muttering, “Move damn it!” and ignoring the bartender’s growl of protest and the glare he sent his way.

Staring intently at the TV, Brian whispered again, “Justin…”

Confused, Michael looked up at the screen, trying to figure out what Brian was talking about. As he sat there watching, the camera did another scan of the line of riders, and then suddenly Michael saw him.

Standing behind the spectator line, clapping his hands and yelling the name of one of the riders. His blonde hair glinted in the sun in that special way it had that made it look like a halo, and his trademark Sunshine smile lit up the space around him like a beacon.

Slowly, Michael turned and looked at Brian, whose eyes were glued to the screen, and then turned back to look once again at the man on the screen as Brian stood up abruptly, and said once again, this time louder and more raw, drawing the attention of several other drinkers seated near them, “Justin!”

Another Face In The Crowd - Chapter 1

2007-02-14T06:06:14Z

Another Face In The Crowd

Title: Chapter 1
Rating: NC-17 story as a whole, PG-13 this chapter (language)
Pairing: Justin/OC, Brian/other, Brian/Justin
Summary: While on a ski trip, Justin is lost in an avalanche and presumed dead. 2 years later everyone has moved on as best they can. Then one day Brian sees a man on T.V. that bears a striking resemblance to Justin. Can Brian find this mystery look alike, and is it really Justin? Most importantly... can love conquer all?
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip. I own nothing... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.
Feedback: Yes please...
Author's note: Here’s the next chapter… hope everyone likes it.

Warnings: Not much… more angst is about all.

Chapter 1

Two Years Later

Michael sighed and placed the last few copies of the newest issue of Rage in the rack facing the window. In the last two years they had released six new issues. Each one bearing the same dedication on the inside front cover.

For Justin… you are missed.

The man that now drew the comic was good. Not nearly as talented as Justin, but talented enough that sales had dropped only slightly after he took over.

At first Michael had been against continuing with the comic. He felt that it would never be the same without Justin, and that in some way continuing with it would be a betrayal to Justin’s memory.

Finally Brian had angrily insisted that he continue to write it. Stubbornly refusing to listen to Michael’s arguments against it. The one thing that Brian had never even allowed Michael to conceive of, however, was doing away with J.T. He had insisted that Rage and J.T continue to reign supreme, happily married and, along with Zephyr, fiercely defending each other and the residents of Gayopolis.

When the first issue with the new artist was released, Michael was almost afraid to show it to Brian. He had been unsure of what his reaction would be to the dedication. To his surprise, Brian had simply read the inscription, nodded as though he was satisfied with it, and handed the comic back.

Looking again at the glossy cover of the newest issue, Michael sighed and thought back about the days directly following the news that Justin was lost and presumed dead.

Brian had scared the hell out of all of them. First by flying directly to Cervinia, Italy where he promptly got himself arrested for verbally and physically attacking several members of the Italian National Forestry Corps when they informed him that the search had been called off. Fortunately, the captain was an understanding man, and when he heard that Brian’s partner was one of the missing skiers he had released him with a warning to contain himself.

After several weeks of fruitless fighting with the Italian government, and numerous failed attempts to hire private search parties, Brian had been forced to admit defeat and return to Pittsburgh.

The first few weeks after his return, no one saw him. He sequestered himself in Britan, the sprawling mansion he had purchased for Justin and refused to answer the door or his phone for anyone. The only way that anyone knew that he was still alive was through communications with Cynthia and Ted, whom he stayed in contact with about Kinnetik, and only when there was a situation that neither of them could handle without him.

When he finally emerged from his self-imposed exile, under threat of bodily harm by Deb if he didn’t make an appearance, Brian was different. He looked the same, other than dark smudges beneath his eyes and lines of fatigue around his mouth and eyes that revealed the fact that he wasn’t sleeping well, but there was something different about him. Even when he snarked and bitched at people, the tone of his voice was off, and his eyes had taken on a haunted look. He seemed to sink into a depression that made Michael worry that he might do something to harm himself.

As time passed, the lines of fatigue began to fade, and his mood lifted enough that Michael worried less about him physically, but that haunted look remained. He rarely ate at the diner anymore, and had seemingly abandoned Babylon, leaving the running of it to Ted, and frequenting Woody’s almost exclusively.

As far as Michael knew, the few times he had been to the club, Brian had not set foot in the backroom or his VIP lounge since Justin’s disappearance. Michael was also aware of the fact that, though Brian still tricked on occasion, the number and frequency of tricks had diminished considerably.

For the most part, life was back to normal. Time does have a tendency to heal wounds and shift people into new experiences and relationships. No one had forgotten about Justin per se, and mention of him still brought about sadness and bouts of reminiscing, but mention of him came less and less often as time went by.

Although the others seemed to only think of Justin in passing, Michael knew that for Brian this was not the case. He knew that Brian would sooner cut out his tongue than admit it, but Brian still pined for Justin in a way that Michael could never have imagined or believed Brian was capable of.

On more than one occasion in the past two years, Michael had driven Brian home after a night at Woody’s and tucked him into bed. On a few of these nights Michael had worried about him enough that he decided to stay on the sofa in case Brian needed him. Most nights, Brian did little of great concern. Most of the time he simply mumbled and complained, made passes at him, and tried to kiss him, all the while calling him Justin. One time he told him to stop fussing with his clothes and suck his cock already. Michael had laughed at this, although his heart ached for his friend, and how much pain he was still in even after so much time.

One night, however, stuck out more than any other. Michael remembered waking from a sound sleep to the sound of Brian’s voice. Thinking that perhaps a trick had shown up after he was asleep, but worrying nonetheless, Michael crept to the bedroom and peered around the room divider. What he saw brought him up short and caused his heart to drop sharply to his feet.

Brian was sitting up in bed, his legs drawn up yoga style, hands resting on his crossed ankles. Clutched in his hands was a small framed photograph. Although Michael could not see the picture, he had a strong feeling that he knew who was in it. His suspicions proved sound when Brian began to speak again, his words slightly slurred and filled with sadness, but Michael could make out every word.

“Leave it to you, you stupid twat, to go and get caught in a avalanche the first night out! I should never have let you go alone. If I had been there we would have been in the room fucking, not skiing on some damn mountain in a fucking avalanche… we would have been together…you wouldn’t have been out there alone in the snow…” His voice trailed off at this, and Brian sniffed. Michael suddenly saw the tears he had overlooked before, and realized that he was crying.

Pointing his finger harshly at the picture, Brian continued in a slightly angry tone, “You lied to me you little shit. You promised me you’d be careful! Always knew you can’t trust anybody but yourself.”

Angrily, Brian flung the picture away from him. The small frame bounced once on the duvet, flipped down onto edge the ledge around the bed, and then slid to the floor.

“Shit!” Brian cursed and quickly flung himself forward trying to catch the frame before it hit the floor and broke. “Fuck!” Brian cried when the frame hit the floor and Michael listened for the sound of cracking glass.

Snatching the picture back up from the floor, Brian examined it carefully. Michael heaved a silent sigh of relief when it became obvious that the glass had escaped unscathed.

Heaving a sigh of his own, Brian reached under the pillow on what he still referred to as ‘Justin’s side’ of the bed, and pulled out a tattered old messenger bag that Michael instantly recognized as Justin’s. Opening the flap, he pulled out a velvet drawstring bag, and placed the picture frame inside it, pulling the strings to close the top and tying the strings carefully.

He placed the velvet bag inside the messenger bag, and started to close the flap then hesitated. Reaching back into the bag, he withdrew a sealed freezer bag. Opening the zipper top, he reached in and pulled out a piece of tan cloth. At first Michael couldn’t make out what it was, but as Brian lifted the cloth to his face, Michael recognized it as one of Justin’s t-shirt’s. Brian held the shirt to his face and breathed deeply, letting the air out in a small moan that barely reached Michael’s ears.

Michael watched as Brian carefully placed the shirt back in the bag and zipped the top, checking the zipper carefully to make sure the seal was good and tight before placing the bag back in the messenger bag and closing the flap. After he pushed the bag back under the pillow, Brian lay on his side and pulled his knees up as far as he could, huddling into a ball.

Michael could hear him mumbling but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Carefully he crossed the room and slid onto the bed, scooching up behind Brain and wrapping his arms around him.

Brian tensed at first, and then relaxed into Michael’s embrace. Whispering in a low choked voice, Brian said, “Smells almost gone… I miss him so fuckin’ much, Mikey.”

“Shhh…” Michael said quietly, fighting to keep from crying himself, “get some rest Brian, everything will be alright.”

Brian shook his head slowly and sounding a bit like Gus he whispered, “Nothing will ever be alright again…”

Michael was shaken out of his memories by the bell over the door. He smiled as Brian came into the shop.

“Hey.” Brian said, his eyes falling on the rack of Rage comics behind Michael.

“Hey,” “Michael replied, placing the last issue on the rack and picking up the empty boxes, “ready to head to Woody’s? Ted and Em said they’d meet us there.”

Brian shrugged as he reached out and picked up a comic from the rack. When Michael came back out from the back Brian stood with the comic open to the dedication page slowly tracing his finger back and forth across the printed endearment.

Clearing his throat to let Brian know he was coming, he stepped back out into the shop and watched as Brian took a deep breath and placed the comic back on the rack.

“Ready to go, Mikey?” Brian said, clearing his throat and straightening his back.

“Sure!” Michael said, locking up the register and turning the lights off.

While he stood on the sidewalk waiting for Michael to lock up, he looked back through the window at the Rage display, the picture of Rage and J.T kissing on the glossy cover shining back out at him through the glass.

Another Face In The Crowd - Prologue

2007-02-09T07:34:07Z

Another Face In The Crowd
Title: Prologue

Rating: NC-17 story as a whole, PG-13 this chapter (language)

Pairing: Justin/OC, Brian/OC (maybe), Brian/Justin

Disclaimer: Queer as Folk and its canon characters belong to Cowlip and Showtime. I own nothing... I just like to take them out, dress them up, and play with them.

Feedback: Yes please...

Author's note: Here's a brief prologue to introduce the story, and make sure it's worth continuing with this. Thanks for reading... now on with the story!

Prologue

“Just think, Brian! Seven days skiing in the Italian Alps!”

Brian smirked and chuckled at the barely repressed excitement in Justin’s voice as he gushed about his upcoming trip.

It never ceased to amaze him how quickly Justin, his smart, sophisticated lover who

took the New York art scene by storm, held his own against the toughest art critics and whose paintings sold for thousands of dollars, could revert to a starry-eyed twink when excited.

“I just wish you could come!” Justin added his voice still excited but tinged with a bit of sadness.

“Yeah, well. That’s what happens when you’re in charge.” Brian said, propping the phone between his ear and shoulder and trying to sound nonchalant, well aware that he was failing miserably.

“Still…” Justin began, and Brian could sense that he was about to launch into another impassioned speech about Brian being the boss and he should be able to take a week off if he wanted to. How they never saw each other now that Justin was in New York, and how great it would be for them to go away together.

Deciding that he couldn’t stomach having that particular conversation again, Brian interrupted him; changing the subject to a showing that Justin was scheduled to participate in shortly after his return.

“Everything all set for the opening?”

Justin sighed heavily, clearly not happy about being steered away from his current favorite topic. Obviously conceding, for the moment, that Brian was not going to change his mind, he began telling Brian about the last few paintings that he had finished the week before.

Finally, after another hour or so of chatting, and one more failed attempt to convince Brian to come with him, Justin told Brian that he needed to get to bed if he was going to be awake enough to make his 6:00 a.m. flight.

“I love you, Brian.” Justin said in a whisper, after promising to call Brain every night while he was away.

Brain replied with an almost disinterested, “Have fun, and be careful.”

Much later, Brian would look back on that conversation and think, had he known it would be their last, he would have returned the rarely voiced, but no less felt, sentiment.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brian sat in his office at Kinnetik looking over the final boards for the newest Remson campaign. Finally, the art department had gotten them right, and Brian felt a bit of his anger and frustration begin to bleed away.

Reaching for the intercom to call Cynthia to take the boards to the conference room, Brian jumped and his elbow struck a tall cardboard cup, spilling coffee across his desk as his office door flew open and a clearly distraught Michael came barreling in the through the door shouting his name.

“Christ, Mikey!” Brian snapped, and snatched the boards from his desk before the offending liquid could reach them.

“Brian, thank God you’re here!” Michael exclaimed, his voice strained and breathless.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Brian asked, as he searched the boards for signs of damage. “I have a meeting in ten minutes…” Brian’s voice trailed off as he really looked at Michael for the first time and took in his pale face and puffy red eyes.

“Jesus, Mikey, what the hell happened?” Brian asked, walking around his desk and placing his hand on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Fuck!” Michael swore his voice a gravelly whisper. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he continued, “You haven’t heard. I thought for sure you would have…!”

“Heard what? What the fuck is going on?”

Fresh tears started to snake down Michael’s face, as he opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out but a squeak. He shook his head and swallowed sharply.

At that moment, the phone on his desk rang, and Brian picked it up, snapping impatiently into the receiver, “Cynthia, stall the fucking meeting…” he began.

“Brian,” Cynthia interrupted him quickly, her voice sounding strained. “There’s a man on the phone for you. He’s says he’s with the Italian National Forestry Corps.”

Brian felt the blood slowly begin to drain from his face as he took in Michael’s pale tear-streaked face.

“Justin…” he whispered.

Michael nodded, and bowed his head, his limp hand holding out a slightly crumpled New York Times, a black and white photo of a group of people in ski outfits taking up most of the front page.

“Put him through.” He said into the phone, his voice low and dry.

“Mr. Kinney?” A voice on the other end spoke in a thick Italian accent.

Brian grunted a response. He didn’t register all that was said, only a few words penetrated the low buzzing noise that began to block out his hearing as the voice continued speaking.

“Avalanche… very sorry… no survivors found… assumed dead…”

Sitting down heavily in his chair, Brain dropped the receiver into the cradle and leaned his head back; a picture of Justin’s smiling face flashing through his mind.

TBC