Title: Fractal

Author: Silk

Fandom: Queer As Folk

Pairing: Brian/Justin

Rating: R

Email address: silkn1@worldnet.att.net

Date: 6/16/01

Webpage: www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/

Disclaimer: The characters of QAF belong to Showtime and various and sundry other people who are, sadly, not me. This is not for profit.

Archive: Yes, please

Series: This is the first of an as yet-unnamed series.

Warnings: m/m, angst, strong language.

This is for Tinn, who is so much more than the sum of her parts, and for Kathy and her friend Chris, who asked for it in the first place.

Fractal
By Silk

(Fractal: a class of shapes characterized by irregularity, but in a way that evokes a pattern.)

Justin stood by the door of Brian's loft, eyeing the older man nervously. Brian was packing. He said he was leaving. He said it was for good. He said it was to take advantage of a job opportunity that he couldn't find here in Pittsburgh.

Justin bit off a small chunk of the cuticle on his left ring finger. Brian lied, so often and so well, that Justin couldn't even be sure that Brian didn't believe what he said.

"So.um.we're like done then." Justin tried to prevent the hurt he felt deep inside from showing. But though he'd matured a great deal over the past year, he hadn't outgrown the one thing that could do the most damage to his
young life. *Brian*.

Brian gave him an annoyed look. "Stating the obvious is not my idea of conversation. *Which* I don't have time for anyway."

"You're in a hurry. Bet you can't wait to get away from me," Justin said bitterly.

"Look, it was nice. Now it's over. The end."

"So like you never cared for me, even a little?" Justin had no idea why he persisted in trying to pry open the lid on Brian's feelings. It was a Pandora's Box at best.

Brian sighed dramatically. "I fuck other guys. You fuck other guys. We're not exclusive. We're not a fucking couple. I told you that."

"So you didn't *care* that I slept with Sean the night they crowned me King of Babylon?"

"You didn't *sleep* with him, Justin. You *fucked* him. Now if you'd professed undying love and wanted to move in with him and have his babies, that'd be a different story."

"I was trying to make you jealous," Justin said, his voice shrinking along with his heart.

"I know."

"So were you?"

"What difference does it make? I'm not staying here anyway."

"It makes a difference to *me*. I need to know."

"Don't be such a baby."

"I'm not a baby! I-I would go with you if you asked me to."

"What makes you think I want you to?"

Brian approached Justin, his face lined with tension, his body rigidly held under control, because Brian wouldn't tolerate betrayal of even the smallest flicker of emotion right now.

"What makes you think my leaving has *anything* to do with you, little boy? You're not that important to me. You never were."

Justin uttered a helpless cry of pain and fled down the stairs to the street. Brian closed his eyes and pondered how he'd managed to destroy the one good thing that had happened to him in the past year. Despite himself.

He buried his face in his hands and moaned Justin's name. He wouldn't cry. He hated to cry. He had to be fucking drunk to cry.

Silent sobs wracked his chest. As the tears came, he thanked God or whatever the hell it was he used to believe in that Justin wasn't here to witness the ignominy of his lover's downfall.

"Hoist on your own petard, you selfish, self-absorbed prick," he told himself aloud.

End