Disclaimer: Queer as Folk is not mine, it’s ShowTime et al’s. I’m poor, so don’t bother suing me.

When he closed his eyes at night, in the silence before sleep descended, he saw it so clearly.

Justin knocked at the loft door. Brian, just getting out of the shower, opened it a crack. When he saw Justin on the other side, he rolled his eyes. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin said. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ll come back some other time.”

Brian sighed, and opened the door. Justin looked inside apprehensively. “I’m alone,” Brian said impatiently. “It’s safe to come in.”

Brian readjusted his towel, giving Justin a quick glance at his ass. Then he disappeared into the bedroom. When he returned, he was clad in jeans and a black tank top. Justin was still standing in the doorway. “I said it’s safe to come in.” He took a seat and lit a cigarette. Justin followed.

“Well,” Brian said between drags, “what is it? I’m pressed for time.”

Justin hesitated, and would not meet Brian’s eyes. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea . . . I think I’m just gonna go.” He started to get up.

“Wait,” Brian said, his voice and eyes genuine. “Please tell me.”

Justin sat back down but remained silent. Brian stabbed out his cigarette. Seconds ticked by.

“Brian . . .” Justin began, reluctantly, “I’ve left Ethan.”

Brian arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I left him because I didn’t love him.”

Brian chewed the inside of his cheek, still saying nothing.

“I still love you.”

Silence.

“Christ, Brian, say something.”

Brian glared. “What do you want me to say? That I’m thrilled to have you back? I won’t.”

“No, I didn’t mean that – I just meant . . .” he looked away, becoming upset. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Brian got up. “Fine, good, now I know. You can show yourself out, right?”

Justin stood to face him. “Brian, don’t be like this.”

“Like what?” he replied with derision. “Like you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the one who walked away from me without looking back. You don’t honestly expect me to ignore that, do you?”

“I’m sorry, Brian.”

“Don’t be. You were always free to leave.”

“So . . . can’t I be free to come back?”

Brian looked away. “What if I don’t want you?”

Justin was speechless.

“Go back to your fiddler, Sunshine. You made your choice.”

“I was wrong. I want you.”

Brian turned his back and walked toward the bedroom. Justin stood, stunned, then started to leave. He hesitated at the door, and looked back to find that Brian had returned and was watching him.

“You going?” he said.

Justin frowned, confused. Then he turned to face Brian. “No,” he said.

Brian’s expression took on a mischievous glint. “Coming then going? How about coming then staying?”

Justin walked into Brian’s waiting arms and kissed him, fiercely. When he pulled away, he was grinning broadly, though Brian was maintaining most of his aloof composure. “Staying, then?” he said with a smirk.

Justin answered with another kiss.

He opened his eyes, breathing heavily with the realism of the fantasy. The moonlight was bright in the apartment, and it illuminated the profile of the man sleeping next to him. He ran his fingers across the man’s chest to wake him.

“What is it?” he said sleepily. He was answered by a passionate kiss.

After he fucked Ethan, Justin fell asleep. The fantasy didn’t revisit that night.

end