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Nov. 14th, 2003 09:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nanowrenletOnce Justin started drawing Brian again, he kind of couldn't stop. It was like the fall before, after Justin had first met Brian, all over again. Only different, because in all of Justin's current pictures Brian had his clothes on. Mostly. But he couldn't help himself; every new bit of news he heard, the slightest whisper with Brian's name attached to it, would make his fingers itch for pencil and paper and send him scurrying for his sketchbook the first opportunity he got. He drew Brian at the diner eating lunch under Deb's motherly gaze, Brian at Woody's shooting pool with the guys, even Brian in his office after Cynthia, of all people, had shown up at the Liberty Diner and asked for a double order of lemon bars, to go. They might have been for her, but somehow Justin didn't think so. He got a silly satisfaction from his sketch of Brian trying to dust powdered sugar off the lapels of his Armani.
He even drew Brian arguing with Michael. Michael had stuck to Brian like glue at first -- probably because he was still worried and Justin seriously couldn't blame him for that -- but it wasn't long before he just started getting on Brian's nerves. Brian finally realized, for one thing, that Michael had left David and left Portland at least partly because of him, and that was fight number one. It had happened at Woody's, and Justin drew Brian sitting on a barstool and leaning precariously forward, pushing his face into Mikey's while he told him how fucking stupid it was to fuck his life over for the sake of -anyone- else, even his best friend. Even Brian.
Fight number two took place out in the parking lot, when Brian declared he had had enough of being chauffeured around like a fucking pansy, he could fucking well drive himself home. In Justin's sketch, Brian was dressed in all black, jeans, shirt, and jacket, and grinning as he snatched the keys to his jeep out of Michael's hand. The look on Michael's face was equal parts surprise and hope.
Their third fight, and the last sketch in what Justin thought of as his 'Brian and Mikey triptych', happened the night Brian decided it was time to go back to Babylon. No one could tell Justin much of what had been said; the music at Babylon was too loud and let's face it, the queers at Babylon were too preoccupied by other things to pay that much attention even to the Brian and Michael Show. What they did say was that finally, Brian had taken Michael by the arms, spun him to face the dance floor, and crooked his finger at a likely trick. Michael had shaken his head, obviously protesting, but Brian put his hand in the small of his back and shoved him forward, yelling over the noise, "Go get laid, already! Fuck!"
Justin bought a larger, easel-sized pad of paper for this one and worked on it for days. By the time he was done he had drawn the entire dance floor, platforms, catwalks, lights and all, and populated it with half-naked, sweaty dancing men. Michael and his trick were right in the middle, foregrounded, pressed together from chest to knees and kissing hotly. In the lower left corner he'd drawn the door to the back room, with Brian just outside paused in the act of dragging a shadowed figure in after him. He was looking back towards the dance floor, towards Michael, and his lips were curved up in a genuine smile.
Brian still wasn't taking anyone home with him at night, but now sometimes Michael did. Justin didn't think either of them could possibly have a better friend in the world.
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He even drew Brian arguing with Michael. Michael had stuck to Brian like glue at first -- probably because he was still worried and Justin seriously couldn't blame him for that -- but it wasn't long before he just started getting on Brian's nerves. Brian finally realized, for one thing, that Michael had left David and left Portland at least partly because of him, and that was fight number one. It had happened at Woody's, and Justin drew Brian sitting on a barstool and leaning precariously forward, pushing his face into Mikey's while he told him how fucking stupid it was to fuck his life over for the sake of -anyone- else, even his best friend. Even Brian.
Fight number two took place out in the parking lot, when Brian declared he had had enough of being chauffeured around like a fucking pansy, he could fucking well drive himself home. In Justin's sketch, Brian was dressed in all black, jeans, shirt, and jacket, and grinning as he snatched the keys to his jeep out of Michael's hand. The look on Michael's face was equal parts surprise and hope.
Their third fight, and the last sketch in what Justin thought of as his 'Brian and Mikey triptych', happened the night Brian decided it was time to go back to Babylon. No one could tell Justin much of what had been said; the music at Babylon was too loud and let's face it, the queers at Babylon were too preoccupied by other things to pay that much attention even to the Brian and Michael Show. What they did say was that finally, Brian had taken Michael by the arms, spun him to face the dance floor, and crooked his finger at a likely trick. Michael had shaken his head, obviously protesting, but Brian put his hand in the small of his back and shoved him forward, yelling over the noise, "Go get laid, already! Fuck!"
Justin bought a larger, easel-sized pad of paper for this one and worked on it for days. By the time he was done he had drawn the entire dance floor, platforms, catwalks, lights and all, and populated it with half-naked, sweaty dancing men. Michael and his trick were right in the middle, foregrounded, pressed together from chest to knees and kissing hotly. In the lower left corner he'd drawn the door to the back room, with Brian just outside paused in the act of dragging a shadowed figure in after him. He was looking back towards the dance floor, towards Michael, and his lips were curved up in a genuine smile.
Brian still wasn't taking anyone home with him at night, but now sometimes Michael did. Justin didn't think either of them could possibly have a better friend in the world.
[626/626/26399]
