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for luciblue - fic - After All [Brian/Lindsay] [Mar. 31st, 2005|04:55 am]
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After All
For luciblue

Pairing: Brian/Lindsay (also: Brian/Justin, Lindsay/Melanie)
Summary: Even if it's not how they thought it would be, Brian and Lindsay discover they love each other after all.
Rating: NC-17 (het sex!)



*

I would've fucked you, you know. If I wasn't afraid your lover would beat the shit out of me.

Well, you had plenty of chances.

I took advantage of a few, if I recall.

It wasn't half bad…

Now you tell me? You mean I could've been straight this whole time?

I wouldn't say that.

I guess it's just as well.


*

The first time he saw her, he knew she was different. He couldn't figure out why or how, but he was drawn to her like he'd never been drawn to a girl in all his life. She looked just like any of the other girls at the college -- the blonde-haired, brown-eyed daughter of any typical set of WASP parents. Brian figured she was attending the party in a vague, passive-aggressive attempt to piss of her parents, but then that's the reason why college kids do any of the things they do. Hell, he was guilty of that.

Her face flushed red when he approached her, and she fidgeted by adjusting and readjusting the hemline of her shirt. This was a tired, old game that he played with the girls on campus. Cat and mouse, bird and prey. He introduced himself, they stammered out a reply, and the two found an unoccupied bedroom or bathroom at the house party. He was never even sure why he played the game, since he was so disinterested, but he found himself always going back. Even after he started fucking men too.

"Hey," Brian said. "What's your name?"

"L-L-Lindsay," the girl stammered. Brian tried not to think that this was the most pathetic thing he'd seen all night.

"So, uh..." Brian trailed off. "Do you come to parties a lot? I don't think I've seen you around."

"Yeah, I don’t know. I don't usually..." Lindsay looked up, her eyes shining. She smirked a little as Brian eyed her warily.

"What the fuck?" Brian took a step back and gestured towards Lindsay with his hands. "Is something funny?"

"Not at all." Lindsay shook her head. "Actually, I was just thinking about how amazing it would be to draw or even paint you. You have great bone structure." As she spoke, Lindsay's face flushed red again and she rolled her eyes. "Oh God, I swear, I don't know why I even open my mouth sometimes."

"Don't sell yourself short. That's the best come on I've ever heard," Brian smiled gently. There was something about this girl that just made him feel a little weak. She grinned when he spoke, her shyness falling away. Brian somehow felt better when she was smiling.

*

"Can you hurry the fuck up, Linds? I'm freezing my balls off," Brian puffed on his cigarette and shivered a little as he spoke. Though he was laying in the hazy winter sunlight coming in through the single window in Lindsay's studio apartment, he didn't feel any warmer. He was starting to question why he'd decided to let Lindsay paint him in the nude.

"Yeah, yeah," Lindsay muttered. She was moving her brush about the canvas furiously, glancing rapidly from the painting before her and the unashamed display of the human form stretched out on her bed. With each glance she could see something else that she needed to add or change or remove, but she was starting to see all the beauty she was nearing with every stroke of the brush. Painting was better than sex for her, the forceful exodus of emotion and energy from her body was better than anything else she could think of.

"That's it, I'm getting up," Brian announced. Lindsay waved her brush in the air frantically, shouting every reprimand and curse she could think of, to no avail.

"Dammit, Brian! I was so close," Lindsay whined.

"Careful, the neighbours might think we're up to something naughty." Brian raised his eyebrows temptingly. "Of course, we could confirm their suspicions, if you like." Lindsay laughed, but she put the paintbrush down. Brian stepped toward her, leaned down, and kissed her softly.

"I love it when you surprise me like that," Lindsay murmured. She leaned in to kiss him again, and Brian took her by the hands. They made their way to the bed, all groping hands and searching tongues, and Brian helped Lindsay out of her paint-covered clothes. The shirt went up over her head, the bra unsnapped in the back and slid off over her arms. Brian pushed her down onto the bed and hiked up her skirt.

"Christ, Linds..." Brian's voice caught in his throat as he discovered that she'd neglected to put on any other undergarments. Lindsay laughed a little and pulled his hands to her thighs and moaned as he touched her. Brian leaned his head down and traced a line up one thigh, over the soft lines of her vulva, and back down the other thigh. He kissed the back of her knee as she writhed beneath him. His cock strained to reach her skin, to touch her, to be inside her.

"Fuck me, Brian. Now. Please," Lindsay groaned. Brian smirked and grabbed the condoms from the nightstand. He tore the packet of one open with his teeth, pulled the condom out, and spit the wrapper onto the floor. Sliding the condom on with one hand, Brian used the other to insert three fingers into her folds. He grinned when he found that she was already very, very wet.

Sliding up her body, Brian took one nipple into his mouth and sucked it, running his tongue in circles around the tip. He gently touched his teeth to the tip and bit down gently as he thrust his cock inside her. He groaned at the contact, the wet heat that he could feel all around himself, even through the condom. He pushed in and out, enjoying every gasp and moan that his pumping elicited from Lindsay.

"Oh God, Brian, I love you," Lindsay moaned, throwing her head back against the pillow and riding out the tides of her orgasm. Brian could feel her walls tightening and relaxing around him, and the sensation brought him to his own climax. He gave one final thrust as deep as he could into her, shouting his bliss as loud and for as long as he could. He was hoping he could avoid responding to the words he'd just heard.

I love you.

*

"Look me in the eye, Brian," Lindsay spoke with a fierceness she rarely used. Brian heard it from her even less frequently than anyone else Lindsay knew, and was always thrown a little off guard when he did. He looked her in the eye.

"What?" He played hard to get. He acted aloof. This was what he did, what he knew. This was Brian Kinney, take it or leave it. He thought Lindsay would've known this by now.

"You know damn well, what!" Lindsay threw her arms in the air. She was beyond frustrated at this point. They had been friends with benefits for over a year, and even though they saw each other once a week at best, she wanted more. "This has all just been a game to you, hasn't it? I've been more than kind, Brian. More than patient," Lindsay's eyes welled up with tears as she spoke. "I have never asked you what you do the rest of the time, and I'm always here, stupidly spreading my legs every time you walk through that fucking door!"

"Linds..." Brian gestured uselessly with his arms. He wanted to say something to fix it all; he wanted to tell her where he went when she wasn't around. He wanted her to know that she was the only girl he fucked anymore. He wanted to tell her that he was gay, that he'd known since he was fourteen and that he'd been trying to fool everyone, including himself. He wished he had the balls to admit the truth.

"Don't." Lindsay turned away from her, pushing her hair out of her face and resting her hand on her forehead. "Just... don't." She closed her eyes.

"I... I have to," Brian's voice cracked like he was going through puberty all over again. He laughed, a little, at himself. "Christ. I'm so fucking pathetic."

"No... Brian... I'm sorry. I don't mean to fly off the handle, but I just don't know how much more I can take." Lindsay finally turned back around and looked him in the eye. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I love you so much, Brian. I really do. And I know you don't love me. I know it, and I wish I didn't."

"Linds..." Brian started again. "Listen to me. I do care about you. More than you know. But I don't love you the way you want me to, and you deserve to know why." He sat down on the bed, and gestured for her to sit with him. She shook her head and continued pacing and crying.

"Just talk," she whispered.

"Lindsay... When I was in high school... I realized something about myself." He paused to light a cigarette and took a shaky drag from it before speaking again. "I gave another man a blow job, and I realized it. I'm gay. I'm a fucking fag. I've tried not to be, I've tried to make it go away by fucking women... My father would kill me -- and I mean it, he would fucking end me -- if he found out..." Brian bit his lip to keep himself from crying. I may be a faggot, but I'm not a fucking wimp. "I haven't even had sex with another girl, haven't even kissed another girl, besides you, in a long time." He took a deep breath. "I never meant to hurt you," he offered weakly.

Lindsay laughed. "You never meant to hurt me?" She turned to stare at him, and the look in her eyes made him feel like a fucking alien from another planet. "How can you be gay, Brian? You've fucked me, I don't know how many times. I can make you come, Brian! I can make you scream my fucking name, and you tell me you're gay?" She'd stopped crying now, in favour of an angry hysteria. Brian stood up and tried to take her hand.

"Lindsay," Brian whispered. "I'm sorry." She ripped her hand away from his and slapped Brian across the face.

"Get out," she said. "Get the fuck out, and do not come back."

*

Brian saw Lindsay around campus every once in a while. He made it harder on himself by attending all of her campus art shows and by going to watch the play rehearsals in the theatre department when he knew she'd be working on the stage crew. He knew she saw him, and that she knew he was there to see her. He also understood why she never said hello, just as he understood that things would never go back to the way they were. Every semester for two years, he saw her often enough to notice all the changes she was going through. She cut off all of her beautiful, blonde hair and stopped wearing the flowing skirts that used to cause Brian to teasingly call her a hippie. He saw her go through several other men after him, and he saw her begin kissing women, and then just one woman, at the art shows.

In some twisted way, Brian was happy that he'd hurt her. He couldn't bear the thought of her loving him, of enduring the straight girl fantasy of the knight in shining armour and the happily ever after with the wedding and the cake and the flowers. When he broke her heart, and maybe his own in the process, Brian set them both free of the myth they were living. He starting going to gay clubs and fucking any guy with two legs and a dick. He felt more alive than he ever had in his whole life. He thought that he probably did her a favour if he opened her eyes and helped her to decide -- no, realize -- that she, too, was gay.

In the spring semester before graduation, Brian enrolled in a ceramics class to fulfill his visual arts requirement. He laughed to himself as he submitted his registration forms, thinking that it would be just too ridiculous if he ran into Lindsay in the art department. He wondered to himself if she could ever have known how much he really did care about her. He wondered if she had any idea that he still thought about her every day, hoped that she was doing well, that she'd found someone who could give her all the things he never could.

When the first meeting of class started, Brian looked around and laughed at himself, thinking that he'd been a fool to expect to see Lindsay in an introductory course. The professor started the class, and lectured about the various types of clay involved in sculpting versus throwing, and talked about where to find glazes and brushes and how to wrap the clay of a piece to keep it moist over the weekend. About an hour into the class, the teacher stopped and spoke briefly about the need for teaching assistants and how she'd been lucky to get an excellent art student for this particular class.

"If all of you don't mind, I'm going to just peek back into the kiln room and see if I can get her attention for a bit. I told her she could entertain herself for the duration of class, but I think we'd best get the introductions out of the way." The professor walked to the door at the opposite wall and knocked gently before opening it. "Lindsay," she called.

Brian's eyes immediately flew up from the doodles he'd been drawing in his notebook to the door where the professor stood. When she stepped out of the way and gestured to the person emerging from the doorway, Brian already knew who it was.

Lindsay Peterson. Brian laughed so loudly that his classmates looked from Lindsay back to him, and he sunk down into his seat as she looked over at him as well. He watched her intently as her eyes dropped to the floor, just like the first night they met. Her face flushed, but she turned her chin up and smiled as she greeted the class. She ignored Brian, and looked right through him throughout the rest of the class.

Afterward, Brian approached her in the kiln room. He figured that if the world had been shitty enough to bring them back together, he might as well make the most of the opportunity.

"Hey," he said gently. Lindsay looked up from the pieces she was organizing on the shelf in one of the kilns.

"Hey," she replied. Her voice was flat and emotionless, and she went back to arranging the clay.

"I know you've seen me around. You've got to know that I've kept up with everything I can in your life, from a distance..." Brian trailed off, feeling more dumb and naive and young than he could ever remember feeling. "Christ, listen to me. I'm like a kid in junior high at the first stupid school dance," he muttered.

"I know, Brian. I've seen you around, but even more so... I don't think you realized that I've seen your name as the buyer for at least one of my pieces at every show. But I fail to see the point." Lindsay walked from her place at the kiln to the sink at the opposite wall and began to wash her hands. "We're both completely different people, now, Brian."

"Yes... That's exactly it, Lindsay. I thought maybe now that we've ended up in totally different lives that we could finally take a shot at being friends. But, if you feel like you're not ready..." Brian raised his eyebrows in a gesture he knew Lindsay would remember. She didn't disappoint him: she burst out laughing.

"Oh, Brian. Your life is so easy, isn't it?" Lindsay smiled shyly as she spoke. "Actually, there is someone I think you'd like to meet. Her name is Melanie."

"Dinner? Friday?" Brian smiled. Lindsay nodded, and Brian laughed. "Christ, I've missed you." He walked out into the classroom and grabbed a piece of chalk. "Let me give you my number," he called out as he began scrawling the digits of his telephone number on the blackboard. Lindsay stepped out of the kiln room and laughed, crooking her finger at him and beckoning him in for a hug. Brian didn't see the tears in her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her.

*

The first time she saw him, she knew he was different. His youthful face and shock of blonde hair was nothing really unique for one of Brian's tricks, but Lindsay saw the light in his eyes and the look on Brian's face and knew that there was something really special about this one. Even when Brian stammered and halted when Melanie asked for the boy's name, Lindsay could hear something in his voice.

She'd been there through hell and back with Brian, through the first clear revelation that he was really gay, that it wasn't just a phase or a game. She was there on graduation day and the weeklong party that followed. She was there the first time Brian experimented with drugs and she the one who picked him up at the police station after he'd been arrested for wandering, naked, through downtown Pittsburgh after a bad batch. Lindsay was there when he showed up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, drunk beyond recognition and slurring about how Michael was in love with him and he didn't know what to do. Brian was there when Lindsay came out to her parents in a move far bolder than any of his, and he was there in the months of depression that followed their blatant disregard for everything she'd risked to open up to them. He was there for her when she and Melanie had their first major fight, sleeping with his arm around her shoulder in his bed so she wouldn't have to be alone. He was there for her when she and her life partner decided to have a baby, and he respected her wishes when she told him she wanted him to be the father.

Lindsay saw something in Justin, a spark of youthful hope or something so much more, and she knew instantly that he would find a way into Brian's heart. Even before Brian knew it himself, Lindsay knew everything and so much more. She was happier knowing that Brian would be loved, that he wouldn’t be alone. Through it all, through all the heartache and joys he’d brought her, Lindsay still loved Brian more than she could ever find words for. No matter what happened, he would always have a place in her heart, and she knew she would always have a place in his. And in the end, that was all that really mattered to her after all.

*

I guess this means we're finally grown ups.

Don't say that, Wendy! We'll never grow up!


*
linkReply

Comments:
[User Picture]From: luciblue
2005-04-02 04:56 am (UTC)
I really really really really really loved this.
It was perfect.

*loves*
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: seedyapartment
2005-04-04 03:45 am (UTC)
I really liked it. Such a great pairing.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: cindybaby
2005-04-04 01:06 pm (UTC)
Thas was absolutely perfect.

Perfect!
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: sherebis
2005-04-06 02:14 am (UTC)
this was beautiful.... loved the ending... the use of the peter pan conversation was awesome, particularly the last two lines... adds a bittersweet tone to it.... very touching. I dug it. beautiful.
(Reply) (Thread)