Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Timeline: Post 5.13; POV's
Word Count: 1.627
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. It’s all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by qafkinnetic!
The next parts are already finished, I just haven't figured out yet, how many parts this story will have. Depends on how it works out. As always: Every comment is welcome. I Love to read what you think. Thanks!
1. Listen to me
2. Trust me
3. Babylon Part 1 | Part 2
4. Find a way Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
5. ...remember what's missing?
6. The Party
Thanksgiving was coming up and – probably for the first time ever – I was looking forward to it. Lindsay, Melanie and the kids were suppose to come back to Pittsburgh for a few days and Michael was already planing everything. He bought tons of new toys for his girl and couldn’t stop babbling about how big she already was and that she'd had her first steps a few months back and that she's now starting to talk and that she had longer hair now...I wonder if that girl already has a boyfriend, a career and her own assistant to change her diapers or if that’s still the mothers' job.
I just listened to him and thought about what I knew was new about Gus – nothing. He was five years old now, that’s what I knew and that – if I believed Lindsay – he was excited to see me again.
It had been two months again, actually almost ten weeks, since Justin was here. I had spent a weekend in New York three weeks ago, but it was weird. Actually I had to be there for business, so we hadn’t that much time and the time we had was weird. And it was getting worse with every visit. The rule he made up when he was here for Ted’s party was broken immediately.
We both knew the rule would be broken, even though we never talked about it. Even though he somehow managed to always say the right thing at the right time and make me believe in us again, make me believe that we can do this, living a long distance relationship. We can’t and we know that, both of us. We were drifting apart more and more and the worst thing was, that was exactly what we were suppose to do – drift apart. I guess he’s yet not ready to let go. And every evening when I’m staring on my phone, waiting for it to ring, I know that neither am I.
We still talked and jerked off on the phone, but not every evening anymore. I remember the first evening I was waiting at home for his daily call and he didn’t call. The next evening he apologized for it, told me he was busy and totally absorbed in his project and I told him it didn’t matter. Then he called again every evening, for a week or maybe two and then again, there was one evening without a call again, but no apology for it anymore.
When he didn’t call for the second evening I called him in the morning and he was totally euphoric because of his project, he didn’t say anything about the missing calls.
He still didn’t tell me what this project was about, he just told me that it was on it’s way and that he hopes it’s being a success and he’s really busy with getting the project to run.
"I didn’t expect it to be such hard work, I thought it would be easier."
"Maybe I could help you," I offered.
"I already have someone to help me, but thanks anyway."
And that was the moment I knew I was right, we were drifting apart and we couldn’t do a long distance relationship. And the worst part of it was, that the reason why he went to New York was to become independent, to build his own life and now that it worked out for him, I wished it wouldn’t. I felt guilty for that thought immediately, but it seemed to be obvious.
"It’s normal," Michael told me, when we spent the night at my loft, eating Thai and smoking pot. Another evening Justin hadn’t called me. I hadn’t said anything to Michael about it, but... like I said, it seemed to be obvious.
"Being jealous when he’s successful."
"I’m not jealous.“ Of course I’m not, I’m not... I wanted him to be successful, I really did.
Michael laughed. "Of course not.“
Fuck! I wanted him to be successful – but I didn’t want him to be successful without me. I was fucking jealous.
I didn’t want to talk about it so I changed the subject, the easiest way with Michael. "So, anything knew about your honeybun?“
I let him babble and my thoughts digressed... maybe I made a mistake.
With incorporating Rage into the website things changed immdiately. I contacted the guy who managed the Rage website and better, I gave Evan the contact and so he put a link to my website on the Rage site and people really seemed to be fascinated to know or at least to see the guy who’s drawing Rage. Anyway, I got a lot of messages in my guest book – very naughty messages and very clear offers. The result was that Evan put in a filter and that I put in a message that I wouldn’t answer to any "offers."
But I also got tons of fan posts. We already got fan mail with the Rage website but there wasn’t any information about us on it, so the fans just said "Thanks“ and such harmless stuff. But now I got fan posts on my own and fuck, that was great. And soon they also bought some merchandise from Rage, like T-Shirts and cups and such stuff.
"With a comic like that even sex toys would sell," Evan said. We agreed that I wouldn’t sell sex toys with Rage on it, no fucking way. Michael appreciated the bonus. It wasn’t much, since we also had to pay for the production, but it was better than nothing. And so I got over 500 visitors per day pretty fast.
Unfortunately barely anyone noticed my paintings.
But so far the website started to pay for itself, including Evan. Thanks to the Rage stuff. But that still wasn’t what I wanted. So I kept looking out for online shows and galleries and such stuff and so far I had some paintings on online shows, those people weren’t as snobbish as New York's gallery owners. I also got some online reviews on those online show sites, nice compliments, but so far no one had bought a thing.
I needed to be successful, I needed a prove that I had a good reason to work so hard on it that I even neglected Brian again. I knew I did and I knew he was taking it hard, even though he didn’t say a word. I didn’t mean to hurt him, I never did, but it’s so easy to hurt him, because he’s so vulnerable without even admitting or showing it. So it happens before I even realize it.
I tried to think about everything, but it was impossible. I had to make priorities and right now I had to concentrate on the website, because I wanted to finish it, to make it run and – the main reason to get this website – make money out of it, so I could show something, so I could finally show it to Brian.
I decided the right time to tell him was after I sold the first piece of my art, a painting, not a merchandise article from Rage. Because I was living in New York to build up my career as an artist. And I wanted him to be proud, I wanted to celebrate the first selling with him. I was already totally euphoric about that, even though it hadn’t happened so far. I wanted him to be proud, I wanted him to see that this fucking long distance relationship was worth it.
To make up for the evening I was just to busy to call and didn’t want to break my work, I extended the calls we had. I loved listening to him. I loved how kind of pleased the tone of his voice became when he told me about Gus coming home for Thanksgiving.
"Will you be here?“
"Are you kidding?" I laughed. "My mom would kill me if I didn’t come home for Thanksgiving."
"Mother Taylor is a very smart woman."
I had a little surprise for him. Unfortunately I hadn’t sold any pieces so far, so I couldn’t celebrate my "new way in New York", but since it was Thanksgiving and Holiday... and since we really needed some time together, just the two of us...
"I’m looking for a place to stay for my one-week-holiday. Do you know a place for me?"
Silence, I wished I could see his face, when he realized what I said. Of course he had to play me. "You have a really big house to live in.“
"Wanna join me? So far you haven’t fucked me in the stables."
Now he laughed. "Get your ass here, I’ll take care of it. The entire week."
Once he offered me to help me with my project, I knew it bothered him that I wouldn’t tell him anything about it. And right after I told him that I already had someone who helped me, I realized that I shouldn’t have told him. He just said "Okay," but it was obvious what he was thinking and what he heard out of it.
Sometimes it’s so fucking hard, it’s not even funny. When I left I knew it wouldn’t be easy, New York isn’t just around the corner, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so hard. It’s like starting new all over again. Every time I think he finally realized that I won’t break up and that me not calling every day doesn’t mean that I don’t love him anymore or don’t miss him, I got proved wrong immediately.
Of course he could call me, too. It’s a two way street, but he assumed I was busy and he’s right and so he barely called me.