MY FAVORITE MISTAKE

"A Queer As Folk USA FanFic"

by Gaedhal

This is Part 1 of Chapter 112 in the "Queer Theories" series.

Go back to "The Junketeer -- Part 3", the previous chapter.

The narrator is Justin Taylor, and features Brian Kinney, Jimmy Hardy, Leslie, Cynthia Llewellyn, Peggy, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Justin joins Brian for a weekend in New York City. New York City, November 2002.
Disclaimer: This is for fun, not profit. Watch Queer As Folk on Showtime, buy the DVDs, videos, and CDs. Read the stories and enjoy.

"Justin Taylor?"

"Yes?" I answer, turning around. A strange woman in a blue suit is waiting for me just beyond the security clearance.

"Justin -- I'm Leslie," she says, shaking my hand.

"Where's Cynthia? I thought she was meeting me."

"She's been held up at the shoot with Mr. Kinney, so she asked me if I'd meet you. I'm doing P.R. for the film, so I was glad to help out." Leslie steps back and takes me in. I wonder what Cynthia told her about me. About who I am and what I'm doing here in New York. "Do you have more luggage?" She gestures to my new carry-on. It feels more awkward than my backpack, but I know that the carry-on is classier. I don't want to look like some dumb kid in New York.

"Just one other that I checked," I reply. And Leslie walks me down to the Baggage Claim area. I pick my new suitcase off the carousel and she tries to take it from me. "That's okay. I can carry it."

"Nice bags," she says. "They look new."

"They are. I got them to come down here for the weekend." Brian bought them for me when we went shopping with Gus. I have a decent suitcase that I got to go to England with Brian last summer, but I made the mistake of bringing my old duffle bag with me to England this last time. I packed in a hurry -- that's my excuse! But Brian was afraid I'd bring a crummy old suitcase with me to New York, so he bought me a whole set of new luggage -- six pieces! I'll never use all those suitcases in ten years -- but I have them now anyway. And the new bags do look nice.

Leslie leads me out to a huge stretch limo. The driver opens the door for us. It's cool. Not as cool as Kenroy Smith and his Rolls, of course, but pretty great. We drive into Manhattan in style and Leslie fills me in on what Brian and Jimmy have been doing. All the different tapings and live appearances and Brian's Woody Allen shoot -- it's hard to keep everything straight.

"I'm glad Cynthia is handling it all," I tell her. "Brian trusts her."

"Cynthia is a natural," says Leslie. "It's like she's been doing publicity work for a long time." She keeps glancing at me. Looking me up and down. And she smiles. I think I like Leslie. She's not a phony.

"Cynthia worked for Brian for years when he was in advertising, which is kind of similar to publicity. And she's one of the few people who can put up with his crap. Besides me, of course."

"I wondered about that," Leslie says. "Because Brian didn't have a personal assistant during the press junket in Chicago. I worked that leg of the promo tour, too, and Brian was there alone."

"He didn't think he needed an assistant then," I reply. "But he does. So I convinced him that Cynthia would make this whole ordeal a lot easier for him."

"You are an astute man, Mr. Taylor," says Leslie, tilting her head. "Are you Brian's career advisor full time or just as a sideline?"

"I'm his everything -- full time," I reply, confidently.

And Leslie smiles at me again. "I see. I seem to have been told something along that line by Cynthia," she says. "She's a big fan of yours, Justin."

"I'm a big fan of Cynthia's, too!" I say. As we get closer to the city I feel myself getting more excited. I can see Manhattan rising in front of us. "You know, I watched Brian on 'Letterman' last night! My friends Daphne and Emmett and Wade and Ted all came over to the loft -- that's where Brian and I live -- and watched with me. It was intense!"

"I thought Brian came off quite well," Leslie says. "He seemed very relaxed with Letterman. Much more so than with Regis or on 'The View.' I also thought he did well on 'The Today Show.'"

"I know! I think Brian responds well to people who seem sincere. He hates phonies. And Brian is pretty humorous -- when he wants to be. He was getting off some funny lines with Letterman. And he looked great, too. But then Brian always looks great."

"I think Jimmy Hardy prepped him for the 'Letterman' show. And I thought he was very charming. Maybe Brian should think about doing a comedy for his next picture."

"That would be one possibility. He's got a pile of scripts, but I don't think he knows what he wants to do next. This one Western is another possibility. But that's not until next summer." And it's with Ron directing, which doesn't make me too comfortable. But it's about Brian's career and not my comfort level. "I think he'd be good in an action picture, too. But he's more interested in dramas. And I know that Brian wouldn't be too happy in the kind of romantic comedies that Jimmy makes. Brian hates movies like that. Too mushy."

Traffic is pretty heavy on a Friday afternoon and the hotel is in Midtown, so we creep along, chatting comfortably, while Leslie fills me in on more details of the press junket. Finally, the limo pulls up at the Wyndham. As Leslie and I get out, people look to see who it is, but when they see it's only nobody, they move on. But I'm glad I got the new luggage -- and that I dressed up a little in a new pair of Diesel jeans and an old Helmut Lang sweater of Brian's. It seems funny that a year ago I didn't even think too much about what I wore, let alone know the designers. But if Brian thinks it's important for me to dress well -- then it's important. And the clothes do look pretty good on me. Maybe better than just good sometimes!

Leslie checks me into the hotel and the clerk gives me my own key card to the suite. Brian and Cynthia are still out, shooting at some art gallery not far from here. They were supposed to finish Brian's scenes today, but Leslie tells me that Woody Allen has expanded Brian's part and they are going to film some more next week before he goes back to Los Angeles. Then Leslie tells me that she was glad to meet 'The Famous Justin' -- which makes me laugh! -- and she leaves me to unpack and get settled.

The suite is gigantic and makes the one I was in when I ran away to New York on Brian's VISA card look like a Red Roof Inn. Of course, I check out the bed -- king-sized -- and then the bathroom -- large tub and separate shower. I decide to take a shower, which feels relaxing after the flight from Pittsburgh and the drive into town. I put on one of those big white bathrobes they have hanging there. I love those fluffy bathrobes.

I'm drying off when I hear the door of the suite open and then voices. Brian is bitching about something, as usual, and Cynthia is speaking to him in a low, soothing voice. They seem to be working well together, just like old times.

I wrap my fluffy robe a little tighter around myself -- I don't want to flash Cynthia first thing! -- and walk out into the sitting room.

"Justin!" says Cynthia, looking up from a paper she's showing to Brian.

And Brian looks up, too, and smiles a goofy little smile at me. He looks so great in a dark silver grey suit. It's one of his new Armanis. He wore it this morning on 'The View' -- I caught the beginning of the show while I was getting ready for my mom to take me to the airport. But Emmett taped the whole thing for me. And Vic is taping all of Brian's TV appearances, too. I think that the show must have gone pretty well because the women on the panel were oohing and ahhing over Brian before he even came out on the stage. Especially that Star Jones. She acted like she wanted to get her hands on Brian and eat him up! I guess that's an understandable reaction -- even for a woman! And the audience -- which was all women, of course! -- was just like they were on 'Oprah'! They were hooting and hollering like crazy when Brian made his entrance....

"Hi, Cynthia," I say. "Hey, Brian. I...." But before I can continue, Brian picks me up and hoists me over his shoulder, carrying me back into the bedroom. "Bye, Cynthia." I smile at her and give a little wave.

"Bye, Justin. I'll see you later. I think."

Brian kicks the door shut and drops me on the bed. He takes off his suit jacket and pulls off his shoes and socks. Then he tosses his tie onto the dresser. He still has that goofy grin on his face.

"How was your flight, Justin? Oh, it was just great, Brian," I say. "I ate two bags of peanuts!"

Brian unbuttons his shirt and drops it on a chair.

"Was there much traffic coming into town, Justin? Oh, quite a bit, Brian. But we made pretty good time anyway," I continue.

Brian undoes his trousers and slides them to the floor. He's wearing a pair of those black silk briefs that feel just like the satiny head of his cock, which is straining against the thin material.

"What do you think of the hotel? Nice suite, huh, Justin? Oh, it's great. Especially the huge bed," I say, as Brian falls on top of me.

"You're doing that ventriloquist thing again," he says, grinning and ripping open my fluffy white robe.

"I only do it when I don't expect a real conversation from you, Brian. Then I just fill in the blanks." I reach down and slip my hand inside those tight black silk briefs.

"I can think of better things to do with my mouth," Brian says with that wolfish expression, like he wants to eat me alive. And he begins to demonstrate by attacking my mouth. He's a very, very talented conversationalist!

He works his way down to my nipples while I help him slide down those silk briefs. "I like these, Brian," I moan my approval.

"We'll get you some, too," he says, pausing for a moment before he goes back to licking his way across my chest. He nuzzles the pale drift of hair on my chest. You can hardly see it, but I'm proud of it. Emmett thinks I should shave it, but I've waited long enough to HAVE some body hair that there's no way I'm getting rid of it. And Brian pulls at it with his mouth, blowing gently. "Duck fuzz," he says.

"Should I quack, Brian?"

"Make any animal noises you want to. We'll have time this weekend to go through the entire menagerie, because I'm not planning to leave this room for at least 24 hours."

"So," I breathe. "All I'm going to see of New York City is a hotel room? Sounds exactly like the last time I was in New York!"

"You have a complaint?" he says, and raises that one eyebrow.

"No way! I'm just saying." And I pull him back up to my mouth. Brian isn't the only one who is hungry.

We kiss for a long, long time and then Brian starts to get off the bed. "I'll be right back."

"No need," I say. "Check the pocket of my bathrobe."

Brian reaches in and pulls out the condoms. I brought an assortment with me, including flavored ones for blowjobs. Why not? Emmett says they taste disgusting, but I'm willing to give them a try. "Well, someone came prepared!" says Brian, smiling crookedly.

"Didn't you teach me to be ready for the moment, Brian?" I say, slyly. "To be the best homosexual I could possibly be?" And I take a package and open it. I can slide the thing on Brian without even looking. Practice makes perfect. And I've had a LOT of practice. Besides, I know Brian's cock like it's mine -- which it IS!

"Do you have anything else in your pocket?" he asks, so innocently.

"No need again," I say, guiding his hand down between my legs. He lingers to rub my cock, which is already rock hard. So I tilt my ass upward and encourage him to explore a little. After I got out of the shower I made sure to fill myself up with this new lube they sell at Torso. It's called Super Glide -- I got it when I bought the flavored condoms.

Brian runs his fingers along the crack of my ass and when he feels all the lube he fucking goes nuts! He can't get his cock into me fast enough or hard enough. He's pounding me so hard that it's making my head spin! The bed is huge, but we are all over it. I'm practically upside down at one point -- Brian is definitely getting the strength back in his right wrist because he hangs on to me firmly while he fucks me silly at a vertical angle!

I'm trying to be a little quiet because we are in a hotel room and because I know that Cynthia is also out in this suite. But Brian doesn't want me to be quiet. He's going out of his way to make me fucking yell! And he's succeeding.

"How many days have I been waiting to fuck you?" he says, pulling almost all the way out and then plunging back in with one hard, fluid movement that makes my head go all woozy again.

"Um, five days?" I answer, not certain if I should count today. Not that it really matters.

"Say it louder!"

"Five fucking days!"

"Louder!"

"FIVE FUCKING DAYS!"

"And I'm going to fuck you FIVE DAYS worth RIGHT HERE and RIGHT NOW!" And he does. He just doesn't stop. Brian is certainly feeling better. Much, much better.

I don't know how Brian can keep going and going without coming. Just when I think he's going to, he backs off and seems to start up the momentum all over again. I was so excited just to see Brian and have him touch me after all those days apart that I shot all over both of us right at the beginning and now he's building me up to come again -- which I do. That's the thing about Brian -- he's as interested in making ME come as he is in his own orgasm -- maybe more interested. And from talking to other guys -- well, mainly to Emmett -- I know that's not the usual way with most men. They are interested in getting themselves off and to hell with their partner. That's not Brian's way at all. At least it isn't when he's with me. But I think that's just the way he fucks in general. Which is why Brian is what Em calls 'The Holy Grail of Fucks.' And the workout he's giving me in this hotel room is definitely worth a couple of new epic poems on the subject!

"Brian," I gasp. I'm on my back and practically bent over double. "Please come! I'm getting too dizzy!"

"Not yet!" he breathes, sweat dripping down his neck. "I'm going to fuck you until we BOTH pass out!" And I believe it. I'm almost there myself.

"Gosh, Brian! Aren't you two finished YET?" says a voice.

I open my eyes and Jimmy Hardy is standing right there by the bed, watching us!

"Christ! When am I going to learn to LOCK that goddamn door?" groans Brian, not missing a beat. Or a thrust, as the case may be!

"I have to leave for the 'Letterman' taping in twenty minutes and I want you guys to come with me!" says Jimmy, his eyes gleaming. He's looking right at me! At Brian plunging into me, with my legs up in the air!

"Brian -- I tried to stop him! I really did!" I hear Cynthia's voice just outside the door. But she won't come into the room. At least Cynthia has a little class.

"You don't need me to hold your hand, Jimmy," Brian says, still thrusting. "Tell Ron to do it. As you can see, I'm a little busy here. The weekend has begun and I'm officially off duty until Monday and 'Good Morning, America.'"

"Ron left this afternoon to go back to L.A.," Jimmy whines. "And I need you to go and sit in the Green Room with me! Come on, guys!" I try not to meet Jimmy's eyes, because the lust in them really spooks me.

"In two seconds I'm going to kick your ass, Jim!" Brian roars. "So get the fuck out of here! NOW!"

And Jimmy backs out of the room. This is way more embarrassing than having Travers walk in on us with the towels at Firelands. Way more!

"Brian...." I moan.

"Ignore Jimmy. It isn't important," says Brian. "He's just jealous of you. And besides... I... I think it's time!" And Brian really does come this time, with a force that slams me deeply down into the big, springy bed. And then he collapses next to me, holding his wrist. "Ow. I think I hurt myself."

"Let me see," I say, taking his hand and kissing it. Then I kiss him. "I'll wrap it up for you. Did you bring that Ace bandage?"

Brian nods. "I brought it, but it looks stupid. I don't want people thinking there's something wrong with my wrist."

"Brian, don't be a baby. An Ace bandage is butch. All the big athletes wear them."

He shrugs as I massage his wrist and hand. "Sorry about that little interruption, Justin. Jimmy's been trying to get a rise out of me all week -- ever since he found out I had my own suite."

"I thought that might happen, Brian," I say, holding his hand. "But I never thought he'd burst right in here!"

"I tell you, Jimmy is walking a fine fucking line these days, Brian sighs. "I don't know which of us is going to blow up first -- Jimmy, Ron, or me."

"Not you, Brian. I won't let you blow up. I'll help you work off ALL of your tension." I keep rubbing his wrist gently, right below his bracelet. "Is that better? Does it hurt a lot?"

"No, just a little stiff."

"Oh, well, you know how to deal with something stiff." And we both laugh.

I can hear Jimmy talking out in the suite. I hear Cynthia and another voice. "Brian. Let's go to the 'Letterman' taping."

"What?" he replies, sitting up. "Why do you want to go? Especially after the way Jimmy acted?"

"Well, because it's my only chance to see a taping -- even if it isn't yours. And to prove to Jimmy that he didn't faze me by coming in here."

"Are you sure?" And I nod. "Then let's move it. Get into the shower. We've got about fifteen minutes."

I get up and head for the bathroom, while Brian goes to the door and opens it. He stands there naked -- he's so cool, he really doesn't give a shit -- and says, "Hold the car, Jimmy. We'll be right out."

We really do get showered and dressed in record time. Of course, we are only going to be sitting backstage, so Brian slips on his faded 501's and a tight black wifebeater, while I put on the jeans and sweater I wore on the plane. Brian brings a towel and tries to dry his hair in the limo, then he hands it to me. The other person with us besides Jimmy is his personal assistant, Peggy, and she's scowling at the two of us.

"Cynthia is going out on the town, I hear," says Jimmy. He looks at me and then at Brian. The way he is looking makes me think that he definitely wanted to get in that big bed with the two of us. And I can smile at Jimmy, knowing that it isn't going to happen. Because Brian isn't doing any other guys. Not anymore. Although he hasn't exactly made it 'official' to me, he's said a couple of things that make me think he means it. Brian blew off that hot trick at Woody's by telling him that he was in an 'exclusive relationship.' Yes -- exclusively ME! And that's one thing I hope we can talk about while I'm here this weekend.

"Yup, she's got a big date tonight," says Brian.

"Cynthia has a date?" I say. "With who?"

"An actor she met on the Woody set. He's playing one of the artists in the gallery scene. They started talking the first day while we were standing around and this afternoon he asked her to dinner."

"Watch it, Bri," giggles Jimmy. "You might lose your personal assistant."

"That's okay. Cynthia is just my back-up assistant. I save the real thing for the weekend." And he leans over and begins kissing me right there in the limo, in front of Jimmy and that Peggy woman, who keeps glaring at us. Brian is obviously sending Jimmy a message -- loud and clear. And I don't mind helping him send it. Kissing Brian is almost as good as making love to him. He pokes his tongue out at me, inviting me in there. Teasing me. And I can't resist. His lips are so red and soft, his mouth welcoming, and his tongue....

"Um, Brian?" Jimmy interrupts. "There's one thing I want to tell you before we get to the 'Letterman' studio...."

But it's too late, because the limo pulls up in front of the Ed Sullivan Theater and we have to get out and hustle, as Brian reminds Jimmy. We walk into the Green Room and there's a camera set up in there.

"Are you ready for the bit, Mr. Kinney?" asks one of the assistants.

"What bit?" says Brian, looking narrowly at Jimmy. "No one said anything about a bit!"

"That's what I was trying to tell you in the limo, Bri," Jimmy says, eagerly. "They want us to do a little bit with you in the Green Room while I'm out talking with Dave. It's because you did so well last night. And I suggested it... sort of."

"You don't mind, do you, Mr. Kinney?" says the assistant, now looking worried. "The writers have worked out a funny running gag. There aren't any lines at all."

"Right," pipes up Jimmy. "Justin can be in it, too!"

"I can?" I say, looking up at Brian. The assistant now looks hopeful. He nods at me.

"Jimmy, I'm not dressed to go on camera!" But then Brian glances at me and sighs. "Okay, then. If Justin gets to be in it, I'll do it."

And then the musical guest walks into the Green Room. Brian forgets to be mad at Jimmy as the man ignores everyone else in the room and walks directly over to Brian, offering him his hand.

Continue on to Page 2 of "My Favorite Mistake -- Part 1".