Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Timeline: It's a sequel to Listen to me Brian's POV
Word Count: 653
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic - thank you sooo much! Every comment is welcome. Let me know what you think. Thanks!
He did, he called when he arrived. I was still on the bed, naked. It got a little cold, but I didn’t want to move, I just lay there. I knew he would call, he told me he would, and it was too soon to not keep promises or agreements.
He has a lot of trust in us, in me and in himself. I wish I could do that, too. I know he will try to make this work. He will call, he will email me, he will tell me that he misses me and that he loves me. He will show up from time to time, we will fuck and yes, we will be happy. And then he’s going to leave again.
After a while he will stop missing me, that’s the normal way. After a while he will live in New York, he will know the city, he will have new friends. He doesn’t need me, he never did, and that’s okay. It was okay, as long as he was around, so I could make sure that he’s okay, that he had anything he needed.
I did what he wanted me to do, when he called. And I will keep doing it. I promised and I never break a promise, at least not on purpose. He said "I love you“, and I said "You, too“. But I know he knows that, this is all about me believing him.
I got up, I showered and I went to work, I did it every day, he called every evening. He complained every evening. New York was too loud, too full and too dirty – I wondered if he ever walked through Pittsburgh’s streets with open eyes. Well, he’s going to learn to love the city, I know he will. Everybody loves New York.
After a week I started to clean up the loft. At least a little. There was the box with the rings. I left it on the table the entire time and every evening when he called I looked at it. I know I was suppose to return it, but I couldn't – I wouldn’t. I have no idea why I want to keep it. It’s not that I want to get married, well, at least I don't think so. I put the ring on once and somehow I thought it looked sexy. I never associated marriage with sexiness. Maybe I should have.
When I took the box to put it away, he called again and as I promised, I answered. He was totally euphoric, because he got an offer to work at a small but popular art gallery.
"Maybe I can bring up my stuff after a while“, he said. "Maybe I can become the star of the gallery, wouldn’t that be cool?“
He already started to dream big and all I could answer was "Sure, that would be absolutely cool.“
New York didn’t suck anymore that evening, it wasn’t too loud anymore, it wasn’t too full anymore. Everything was just cool.
"We're going out to celebrate“, he told me. "Well, not really. It’s Noelle’s birthday, but for me it’s a celebration, too.“
He was happy and I was... not so happy, but happy for him.
"I wish you were here.“
I nodded. I wished that, too. I looked at the rings. He ended the call because his roommate, Daphne’s friend, Noelle, wanted to leave. There was no I miss you and no I love you. I nodded to the phone and closed the box. Then I went to the drawer, to open the empty one, the one where his clothes were suppose to be, the one that seemed to be destined to be empty.
I opened it and saw his underwear and some socks and his favorite shirt and a pair of jeans. On top was a note that said: "Trust me.“