"A Queer As Folk USA FanFic Series"

by Gaedhal

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I glanced over to where Brian had been standing at the bar. But he was gone. That made me a little anxious, but I knew that he was probably already putting the next phase of his plan into action.

So I turned the heat up a little on my tall, dishy, but very confused project. By the third song we were dancing to he was almost going WITH the beat. Almost. That was kind of endearing, you know? It was SO straight and clueless!

Brian has always had a thing for 'converting' supposedly straight guys. He thinks it's a real kick to prove to them that they aren't as straight as they like to think they are. And vamping away at this actor, I could see why it was so much fun! His discomfort level was sky high, but he was still working it with me. Or he was trying to. I even saw the ghost of a little smile as I put my hand on his flat, but still extremely grope-able ass.

When I looked over at the bar a little later I saw Brian leaning where the two actors had been standing before. And Brian had the other actor up against him, his long fingers hooked through the twink's belt loops. My stomach lurched slightly. Yes, I still feel jealous when I see Brian putting his hands on other guys. That feeling never completely goes away. But that was part of the plan, part of the game. Besides, I was grinding pretty heavily against my own part of the project and enjoying myself, so I couldn't very well be hypocritical about Brian's hands on that fucking blond!

Then, suddenly, my actor stopped dead on the dance floor. He was frowning. I saw that his eyes were riveted on the end of the bar -- where Brian had tight hold on the twink actor. And his tongue deeply in the guy's mouth.

"What the fuck?" said my project -- and he jerked away from me.

But I grabbed the back of his jeans and tucked my hand around that thick cowboy belt. "That's only Brian, my lover," I told him, reaching up to talk right in his ear. "He's getting acquainted with your little friend."

He gave me that confused look again. I was really beginning to like that mystified expression on this guy's pretty face! Mouth slightly open. Totally befuddled. He had no fucking idea what was up. I glanced over at the bar again and saw Brian with the blond actor. And the blond definitely knew what was what. He and Brian were both watching us avidly, their arms around each other. And then the twink grinned that broad, toothy grin, just like he does on the TV show. Brian tilted his head and nodded at me.

That was my signal. I took a firm hold of my tall project's hand and steered him off the dance floor. Right over to Brian and the blond.



The blond started to introduce himself to me -- but Brian playfully put his hand over the younger actor's mouth.

"Justin and I prefer not to know any names." Brian paused. The two looked at each other. They must have realized that we knew who they were. I mean, it was obvious that we knew who they were. Every guy in the whole fucking club knew who they were! But this little condition served to preserve their illusion of anonymity. And that seemed to help them relax a little. Brian really IS the Master! "If that's okay with you guys?" he added.

The tall actor had that puzzled look on his face again. "Sure," he said, and his partner nodded, grinning. Yes, they wanted to play along. They seemed to be with the plan all the way.

Once Brian has made a decision about something, he doesn't like to waste any time. In Brian's mind he was already on to the next stage of the plan. Almost before I knew it, we were out of the club and sitting in a truck. I'm not kidding -- it was like some kind of funky pick-up truck! The tall guy was driving. I sat up front next to him, while Brian and the blond were getting the ball rolling in the cramped back seat.

"So," I said. "Does this thing have any fucking heat in it? Because I'm freezing my nuts off!"

And that made him laugh! Really laugh out loud! It sounded good. Broke the ice, literally, because he said, "Sorry about that. I guess I'm used to the cold by now." And he switched the heat up high. "You have to get used to it up here!"

"No fooling! It's cold at home, but nothing like this," I commented. "We're just in town for a couple of days. Brian's on a business trip and I'm just tagging along. I've never been to Toronto before."

"Where are you from?"

I smiled. "Pittsburgh. Believe it or not."

"No shit!" He smiled back at me. "That's pretty ironic. But it's all right."

He drove the car through the snow, which was coming down again in big, fat flakes. The streets in that part of Toronto seemed narrow and confusing, but he knew exactly where he was going. Which was to a fairly nondescript apartment building in a fairly nondescript neighborhood. But when I stepped out of the truck everything looked all lit up, like the snow was glowing. I almost felt like I'd taken a hit of some killer E -- but I hadn't. I hadn't had anything but one drink with dinner and then the Cosmo at the club. I was buzzing on the anticipation.

The apartment wasn't exactly plush. Far from it. It looked like one of those 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' places BEFORE the queers fix it up. It was obviously the tall trick's apartment. There were clothes, mainly jeans and sweats, thrown all around the small living room. A pile of CD's and DVD's were on the floor in front of a big-screen television. Not as nice as Brian's plasma TV, of course, but not bad. An empty pizza box was sitting on the coffee table and an open script was next to it.

The two guys rushed around, shoving stuff out of the way to make room for us to sit down.

"We weren't exactly expecting any visitors," said the tall guy.

"No shit," said Brian. We'd taken off our coats and hung them in the closet next to the front door, but Brian was looking for a safe place to put his suit jacket. He obviously didn't want to set it down on top of the mess in the living room.

"I'll take that for you," said the blond. He produced a wooden hanger and put Brian's jacket on it. "This is a beautiful suit. Italian?"

"Prada," said Brian, smugly. He's such a fucking label queen.

"You'd look good in a suit like that," the blond said to his partner. "Really good."

"Yeah, great for tooling around in the truck!" he huffed back. "Hey, I've got some nice clothes!"

But the blond rolled his eyes.

Brian and I sat down on the sofa and made ourselves comfortable. I wondered when Brian would make the next move in his master plan.

"You guys get high?" asked the tall one -- and he brought out a huge bong that left even Brian gaping.

"Um... yeah," said Brian. "Sure. Why the fuck not?"

I stared as the guy took out a box full of prime weed and began stoking up the bong. "Jesus, Brian," I whispered. "Look at the size of that thing!"

Brian leaned over to me. "It looks like these two have a few plans of their own!"



"This is really strong!" I coughed. "A little too strong, I think." I handed the big bong back to the tall guy. He was smirking at me in a way that was pretty familiar from the television show.

Now I'm no wimp. I've smoked a little weed in my day and shared a bump with Brian from time to time, but this stuff was enough to separate your head from the rest of your body!

"Give that thing to me!" Brian took the bong in hand. He's quite well-practiced in handling long, thick objects that you apply your mouth to. And he wasn't about to let some actor show him up!

Brian breathed in a deep toke and then he leaned over to me. I opened my lips and he blew some of the smoke deep into my throat. It burned going all the way down and I sputtered.

"That happens to me, too!" said the blond actor. He had kicked off his sneakers and was sitting on Brian's other side. He seemed pretty at home in the older actor's apartment. It was obvious that he spent a lot of time there.

I wondered how long they had been hanging out together. And I also wondered whether it was a usual thing with them to pick up guys and bring them back here. Watching the body language and eye contact between the two, I guessed that it wasn't. The blond seemed a bit more at ease, but the tall guy, who was sitting on the floor next to the sofa, was definitely nervous. The bong hits seemed to be the main reason that he was loosening up at all.

"Oh, yeah?" said Brian. He had also taken off his shoes and made himself at home on that large, soft sofa. Brian can make himself at ease anywhere -- when he wants to. "Here." Brian took another deep pull on the bong and leaned over to shotgun the twink. Yes, they were having no difficulty at all getting friendly.

Okay then, I thought. I have my work cut for me with the tall project. Let's face it, he wasn't just an ordinary trick. An ordinary trick would know exactly what to do and we would already be halfway there by now.

But this guy must still have thought of himself as straight. Or if not totally straight, then not unapologetically queer, either. And I'm not exactly Brian. Taking so-called straight guys in hand and turning them around isn't a hobby for me, after all!

"That's, um, an interesting shirt." I picked up a pink and green plaid flannel monstrosity that was draped over the back of the sofa.

"You like that?" he said happily. "It's really warm. My mother gave it to me. She didn't want me to get cold up here in the Far North."

"It's... different," I told him. My taste in clothes is pretty bleak, according to Brian, but even I'd never wear a thing like that!

I glanced over and saw the blond stifling a giggle. "I've thrown that fucking shirt out 3 times at least, but it keeps turning up. It's like the cockroaches -- it'll outlive all of us!"

"It's not THAT bad!" The tall guy made a wounded face. "I like things that are comfortable."

"So do I," I replied. I slipped off the sofa and onto the floor next to him. He was lying against a big throw pillow that looked like a reject from an opium den. And considering the huge bong, maybe it was!

His hair was kind of shaggy, but it was very soft. Brian had his hair longer a while back, but now that he's working so hard he has been keeping it shorter and more styled. I liked it longer. A little wild looking. Brian looks great all dressed up and perfectly turned out, but I have to admit that I like Brian best when he's more freewheeling and funky. That's when I believe Brian is the most himself. But he doesn't cut loose as much as he used to. He has so many fucking responsibilities now that's it's harder for him to do that.

I sensed that with the actor it was just the opposite. That he felt ill at ease when things were too fussy or when he had to dress up or act all formal. That he liked to be comfortable most of all.

So I reached over -- and made him as comfortable as I was able, right there on the floor!



Handling a strange dick is always awkward for me. At least at first.

Now Brian takes it for granted. He's handled thousands of them. He'll tell you that, like snowflakes, no two dicks are alike.

When you think about it that way -- scientifically, I mean -- it makes reaching into an unknown fly a kind of voyage of discovery. Cut or uncut? Curved or straight? Any piercings or tattoos or weird moles or birthmarks? Pink or purple, light or dark? See? No two alike. And that doesn't even take the balls into account. Those add in a whole new dimension.

And this dick was a beauty. Not as big as Brian's, of course! Not as perfectly shaped as Brian, either. Maybe I'm biased, but I have yet to see a dick to match Brian's, even in first class porn. Maybe they're bigger, but it isn't just size, you know? There's a set of aesthetic principles to be considered. Shape. Texture. Hue. Proportion. Scent. Taste. Just... sheer quality. And it isn't only because Brian is my own partner that I think that. Lots of guys believe he's the standard by which a really great dick should be judged. That's one of the reasons he's a legend on Liberty Avenue!

But this one... Yup, it would do quite nicely. And it didn't hurt that it was attached to a major fantasy object. He looked a little bit out of it, but that could have been just his way of showing his appreciation for my technique. Eyes closed, mouth opened, head a bit floppy -- that's pretty standard at this stage of the game.

I glanced over and, naturally, Brian was way ahead of me. He already had the blond unzipped, stripped, and completely flipped. Brian doesn't like to waste any time when he's only interested in the main event. When we're alone he enjoys taking a lot of time unwrapping me and fooling around and exploring, that sort of thing. He doesn't usually waste that kind of energy on tricks. But this was like any vacation, I guess -- you want to get to the good stuff because tomorrow you have to go home!

It's a good thing that sofa was pretty large, because Brian likes to stretch out when he's working. And he had that blond stretched out, all right. Ordinarily when we do this it's just three of us, so I would probably sit back and watch for awhile. Just to see where and when I wanted to get involved. Sometimes I would only watch. That's when I was feeling resentful and Brian and I weren't communicating too well.

But things have changed a lot. Now, if I don't want to participate, I open my big mouth and say so very clearly. And, usually, Brian will decide he's not all that into it either. Which is what makes this particular event such a special occasion. A kind of Vacation Special. That 'Dirty Weekend' I was thinking about when I came up here with Brian.

The tall guy and I were still on the floor, but even with the big throw pillow it wasn't the most satisfactory place to do what I was thinking of doing. The coffee table was right near my head, and there was a pair of boots and some other random odds and ends of clothing still scattered around. And the floor was covered by a fake oriental rug that didn't completely cover the hardwood, which can be awfully cold in the middle of a Toronto winter.

"How about we finish this somewhere else?" I suggested, sitting up. I knocked an ashtray over with my leg. We HAD to move this thing elsewhere!

The tall guy's eyes snapped open. So -- he wasn't so stoned that he didn't know what was going on. Yes, he was plenty awake now!

"Sure," he said, standing up. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Right this way."



The bedroom was even more disordered than the rest of the apartment, if that was possible.

The bed was a queen-size -- what else, huh? Brian needs a big bed for obvious reasons, but he also likes a bed that is long enough for his legs. The tall actor also seemed to need that extra room. The bed looked hastily made up and I imagined that the sheets were not exactly fresh out of the laundry, but when you fuck guys that's the way it goes a lot of the time. Even gay men can be total slobs. And I certainly hadn't been expecting anything better from a guy who was still on the fence!

He stood there a little awkwardly, as if he wasn't sure what to do next. I guess the blond must take the lead in the bedroom. That would make sense. The twink actor had no conflicts about his sexuality whatsoever. I assumed that he must have one day figured that it was now or never -- and dragged the tall project into the sack. Not that this guy would have been kicking and screaming all the way. I don't think so at all. But he probably needed to get a little -- or more than a little -- high first. That way he could always fall back on what Brian calls 'The Frat Boy's Excuse #1': "Dude! I was SOOOOO stoned that I can't remember a thing!" Or else 'The Frat Boy's Excuse #2': "Dude! I was SOOOOO drunk that I didn't know what I was doing!"

But now there was really no need for an excuse.

His jeans were already undone, so I reached over and pulled them down the rest of the way, while he pulled his black wifebeater off over his head. It caught for a moment on his chin and he laughed. That was nice. He had a giggly kind of laugh you don't expect from a man in his 30's. Very boyish. Very cute! It made me feel extremely experienced. I pulled down his black briefs and he stepped out of them.

"I don't always wear underwear," he admitted. Funny but now that he was naked he seemed to be completely at ease. Maybe even more at ease than when he had been dressed. That reminded me a lot of Brian. Brian would never wear clothes at all if they weren't some kind of fucking status symbol. Or if the Pitts wasn't freezing for most of the year!

"I always do," I said. And I showed him. I was wearing a plain pair of grey Calvin Klein briefs. Not fancy, but practical. "I guess it's my conventional upbringing. You know -- always wear clean underpants in case you get hit by a bus!" I handed him the underpants. "See?"

"Nice," he replied, taking them and then tossing them over his shoulder. I hoped that I'd be able to find them in the mess afterwards! "But what about THIS?" he continued, reaching for something else.

Yes, I have a pretty nice dick, too. It may not be as classic as Brian's, but it's sturdy, hard, and fully functional. Ready whenever I need it.

I gave my tall project a slight push and he plopped himself down on the bed. And I plopped myself down on top of him.

With both of our dicks hard as rocks and pressing urgently against each other, it was only a matter of time before one of them yielded to the inevitable. And I was determined that it wasn't going to be mine!



I like to investigate. The obvious things, of course. Dicks and asses. Mouths. Faces. But other things, too.

For instance, backs can be amazing. Brian has a beautiful back. The way his shoulder bones move under his skin and the way his muscles bunch up as he moves his arms or bends over. And the way I like to trace his spine all the way down to his soft, firm ass. That always reminds me of the first time Brian ever rimmed me. I'd never thought of the back as being an erogenous zone until that moment. And I've never forgotten that lesson.

But my tall project -- he had a particularly tasty chest. Wide and pale. Brown nipples like perfect coins. I focused on those nipples. He had some silky hair sprouting around them and a little bit more down the middle of his chest. I know they shave the guys for the show, but he seemed to like letting bits of hair creep back. I liked it, too.

Brian is obsessive about shaving and waxing his body, but I'm always encouraging him to let it grow. I like some body hair. It's masculine. It catches some wonderful butch smells. It feels good against my lips. I don't mean that I want Brian to look like a fucking walking carpet or end up with some weird, harsh black tufts between his tits like Michael. No, not that! But Brian's hair is golden brown and so soft. Like the trick's. I pulled at the hair around those nipples with my teeth and he made a deep groaning noise. So I did it again. And again.

Out in the living room I could hear the blond yelling. Yes, yelling! I have to say that when Brian fucks a guy they don't stay quiet. You can't stay quiet when 9 inches of steel dick is pounding you mercilessly. I know THAT from three years of experience of being pounded by those same 9 glorious inches. There's no way that I can be quiet when that is happening, even if I try with all my might. It's physically impossible. So the blond, who didn't know what to expect at all, was bringing down the fucking building with his screams.

My tall project lifted his head and raised his eyebrows at the sound. We both listened for a minute to the blond's incoherent pleading.

"Shit," is all my trick said.

"Shit, yes," I agreed.

He put his head back down and I continued working away at those tits. I wanted to get him to the point where he was like putty in my hands. I like that phrase. It makes me think that I can mold things exactly that way I want them. Do with my tall trick exactly what I wanted to do. And he'll go right along. I knew that he would. I was in the fucking driver's seat.


"Well, well, well." I heard Brian's voice behind me.

I turned my head. Brian and the blond were standing in the doorway. Brian's erection was still rock hard, leading the way into the bedroom. Jesus, but Brian can fuck and fuck and fuck and still stay hard like no one else in the world! The blond was stifling a laugh.

"Don't tell me that you were thinking of going ahead without us?" Brian said. "Now that's not very nice, is it? I think there's plenty of room in here for two more. What do you say, Sunshine?"



The blond jumped on the bed, on the other side of my tall project, and kissed him. And kept kissing him.

I was a little annoyed, I admit. After all, I was just starting to make some headway here. But... there was still plenty of him to go around.

I headed south and focused my attention on that nice, hard dick. As I attacked it I glanced over at Brian, who was sitting in an overstuffed chair next to the bed. He'd pushed some clothes off onto the floor and settled himself down to watch the show. He was gently stroking his big cock, the way you'd stroke a favorite pet, calming it, letting it know that you're there. He was smiling at me, his lips parted slightly to show his feral-looking teeth. I grinned back.

I got the trick's dick primed up. It had been a good size to begin with, but it grew even more after I spent some time on it. Suddenly he turned slightly and looked at me. He had the blond on his back now. He pointed to the table next to the bed.

"Top drawer," he said.

"Obviously!" I laughed. I carefully climbed over the two of them and slid the drawer open. I selected a handful of condoms and a tube of lube. There were two tubes in there and I picked up the more heavy-duty brand. I figured it would be needed.

I handed the tall trick the lube and he began shoving it roughly up the blond, who was making little mewling sounds like a cat. Meanwhile, I opened up the condom and rolled it down my project's dick, which was straining aggressively against the rubber as if anxious to get with it.

The blond spread his legs and pulled them apart with his hands. The tall guy poked tentatively at his hole, teasing it, then pressing against. I reached my hand over and grasped his cock, guiding to towards its goal.

"Hold it!"

The three of us stopped and looked up. Brian was standing over us like some kind of naked sex angel.

"Huh?" the tall actor frowned. "What the fuck now?"

"I have an idea," said Brian.

That got my immediate attention. "What do you have in mind, Brian?"

He grinned. A wolfish, fiendish grin. "Choo choo!"



"I don't know, Brian," I said, doubtfully.

A train. That's something that we had never done before. And we've done a LOT of shit together! Threesomes, yes. Even four guys at the baths, but it was with each of us fucking a guy and then switching.

But pulling a train. That was complex. It needed planning and coordination. I wasn't certain that our two tricks were up to it.

"Yes!" exclaimed the blond. "Go for it!"

Yeah, sure -- the blond was into it. He was already on his back with his fucking legs in the air! He just wanted his semi-straight boyfriend to finish what he'd started. Meanwhile, the tall guy was kneeling there on the bed between the blond's legs with a major hard-on, waiting for further instructions.

Now this was where Brian was totally in his element. Taking charge. Choreographing this scene just like he'd conduct a commercial shoot. I could see the wheels turning in his diabolic, beautiful head as he worked out all the permutations of this choo choo ride.

He leaned over to my tall project. Their hair was almost a same color, except Brian's had a mahogany shimmer in it, while the actor's was more golden.

"You start," Brian ordered him. "Let's see how you can handle a nice piece of tight blond ass."

The trick glared. "I think I fucking know what I'm fucking doing!"

"Then by all means, let's have a demonstration of your technique," said Brian. Brian can be a bastard sometimes. He was challenging the guy. "I mean, your faggot technique, of course."

"Asshole," the actor said under his breath. But then he plunged ahead. Literally.

The blond was trying to help him by wiggling back against his partner's dick, but he was tight and the trick was nervous. The head of his dick was pressing. Pressing. And then, finally, it went in and the blond exhaled loudly. "Jesus!"

My own dick was twitching in anticipation. It jerked in my hand as I watched the tall project push all the way into the blond's pale, plump ass.

"Not bad," Brian commented.

"Not bad at all," I replied.

Brian put his hand on my shoulder and turned me slightly. He had a rubber on my dick almost before I realized what he was doing. He smiled at me as he slicked me up with the heavy-duty lube.

"This train is about to leave the station, Justin," Brian whispered. "And you're the engineer."


Go on to "Page 3, the final section of the "Toronto Excursion."

Send Gaedhal any comments, critiques, suggestions. I welcome all of your feedback!

Posted March 4, 2004.