"A Queer As Folk USA FanFic"

by Gaedhal

This is Part 2 of Chapter 35 in the "Queer Theories" series.

Go back to "Sugar Daddy II -- Part 1", the previous section.

"Well! I am impressed!" Lindsay surveyed the loot as we unloaded it from the Jeep.

"Looks like you bought out the entire store," Melanie added.

"Thanks to that shopping list from Hell." I threw another giant-sized box of Huggies onto the driveway.

"Tracy helped us," Justin offered.


"Mikey's ex-fianceé -- Big Q-style."

"Oh -- Tracy...." Lindsay and Melanie exchanged knowing glances. I knew they were remembering my little set-up at Mikey's birthday party. Unfortunately.

"You mean she actually spoke to you? I wouldn't have," Melanie gruffed, raising an eyebrow.

"Not to me. To HIM." I throw a glance at Justin. "And Gus. All the women love Gus. He's either going to grow up to be Bill Clinton -- or Liberace."

"Ooo," said Lindsay. "I don't think I like either of those choices."

"Take it or leave it."

I neglected to mention the Hello Kitty incident. Let the munchers deal with Gus' incipient queendom on their own.

"Don't forget dinner tomorrow night. Papagano's. At 8:00 p.m. I reserved a big table AND a highchair, so there shouldn't be any problem with Gus."

Lindsay smiled. "We are SOOO looking forward to it. I haven't been to Papagano's in ages and ages."

"Yeah," said Melanie. "It isn't in our usual budget."

"It's a special occasion. So come to enjoy yourself." I leaned over to Melanie. "And no attitude."

"Who? Me?"



We were at Woody's that evening. Justin and Emmett had taken the Jeep over to Michael's store to pick up Ben and him and bring them back. I hadn't had a chance to talk to Mikey since his tantrum at the loft. But I wanted to make it up with him now before it got any farther away from us, to the point where it was impossible to make it up. Ted was there, too. I think he had the same thing on his mind.

Ted and I were just racking up for another game when I felt someone breathing down the back of my neck. I knew it wasn't Justin. Wrong angle. Wrong feel. Wrong everything.

"Hey there. Remember me?"

Great. The guy from Ben's office. Just what I needed right now. Tonight. I don't think so.

I decided to be very clear. "Not really."

He looked at me, knowing full well that I remembered him. Get the hint, okay?

"Alan. Remember? Ben Bruckner introduced us. The other day? In his office?"

Right. I'm not brain-damaged -- yet. I'm blowing you off. Understand? "I didn't know dropping off a paper constituted an introduction."

"It can." He leaned in a little. I leaned back a lot.

He was kind of hot, but he was a redhead and I've never been into red-haired guys. Too much the Howdy Doody/Richie Cunningham/Conan O'Brien thing. Totally not on. And his aggressiveness was a fucking pain in the ass. It's a turn-off for me in general. I like to make the first move -- that way they know from the get-go who is in charge. Plus, Justin and Emmett were due back at any time. The last thing I needed was this guy cruising me.

"This is my friend, Ted Schmidt." Come on, Ted. Show some initiative for once. You're a master at picking up my rejects. And this guy qualifies in spades.

"Yeah, hi." He immediately turned his back on Ted. "So, what's up?"

"Excuse me, but you're blocking my shot."

I lined up on the ball.

"I could watch you shoot any day -- or night."

The ball went bouncing. "Fuck! See what you made me do?"

"So, what do you say?"

"About what? Fucking up my shot?" I could see Ted guffawing at the other side of the table. He should have such problems. "Listen. What's your name?"


"Listen, Alan. How can I make it perfectly obvious even to you? Fuck off. I'm here with my friends. I'm NOT interested. I wasn't interested in Ben's office. I wasn't interested when you accosted me in the elevator. I'm not interested here at Woody's. Now, if you'll let me play? Please?"

Alan just gave me that look of supreme self-confidence. I hate that on anyone but myself. "I can wait. I'm very, very patient. And very, very persistent."

"Well, you'll be growing a beard down to your ankles before you get lucky here, so why don't you try at another window?"

"Your turn." Ted was circling around, loving this. Plus, he kept looking at the door, waiting for the boys to return with Michael and Ben.

I moved around, trying to get an angle, when Alan came leaning in again. He whispered into the back of my neck, "You know, the hair around my dick is bright red -- makes my big cock look like it's on fire."

Shit! Now I'm picturing this penis in flames image. "Will you get away from me?" I straightened myself up and walked around the table, away from him. "Where do you get these lines?"

Ted winked at me. "Maybe he bought a copy of the 'Brian Kinney Book of One Hundred Greatest Pick-up Lines' -- sold in all fine stores and sex clubs everywhere for a very reasonable price."

"So humorous. You should be my manager."

"No, Thanks. I have a full-time job already."

"Yes. Ted runs I think our horny friend here might avail himself of its services and leave me the fuck alone."

"Time is wasting and we're still standing here."

I felt like poking this Alan with my pool cue. "The only waste of time around here is you."

"Oh, it's NOT a waste, believe me." And he put his hand on my ass.

"Hey, you! Get your fucking hand off and take OFF!" A voice rang out over the noise of the bar. Now, every guy in the place was looking over at the pool table.


Justin gave Alan a push and stepped between us.

"Who are you pushing, you little fucking twerp?" Alan's face was as red as his hair.

"You, you big, stupid lunkhead."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." And Justin pushed him again.

"If everyone would just relax for two seconds...," I tried to say. The great peacemaker -- that's me.

"And you -- shut the fuck up. I'm handing this." Justin nudged me back with his hip. Okay. I get it.

I retreated to the other side of the table, next to Ted.

"This has to be a first," he said. "But I'll put my money on Justin. He's small, but he packs a wallop when he's riled up -- and I know that from personal experience."

Across the room I saw Emmett and Mikey and Ben coming in the door, craning their heads to see where we were. They were just in time for the floorshow.

"Who are you to put your hands on people?"

"That's none of your business." Alan, who had about four inches in height and 30 lbs. on Justin, took a step backwards.

"It IS my business."

"Maybe once, but I think that was a long time ago, buddy."

"A year ago. Yesterday. Tonight. Ten fucking years from now -- it's MY BUSINESS! Understand?"

I heard Emmett call out, "You GO, honey!" from across the room. I couldn't make myself look over at Ben and Michael. It was too fucking embarrassing.

But Emmett, followed by Mikey and Ben, made his way directly over to me and Ted. "Why, Miz Scarlett, I believe that Rhett and Ashley are about to come to blows over you."

"Or blowjobs," added Ted.

"You ARE loving this, aren't you, Ted?"

"Frankly, my dear -- yes."

"Aren't you going to stop them, Brian?" said Mikey, looking very concerned. "That guy is twice Justin's size."

The two of them were basically at a stand-off, bristling at each other and calling out insults.

"I think it's his call. He started it and it's up to him to finish it. He's a man -- let him be one."

"But he might get hurt...."

I put my arm around Michael's shoulder. "Mikey, I can't fight everyone's battles -- I can't even fight my own half the time. Let him do it."

"You wanna put your hands on someone? Come on, put your big hairy paws on ME, Red!"

"I'm not fighting YOU, you little twink."

"Why? Afraid I'll kick your ass?"

"No. Get away from me."

"Afraid I'll mess up your hair? Come over here and I'll mess up your fucking FACE!"

Alan stepped back again. "You're fucking NUTS!"

"Yes, I am! I AM nuts! You want to screw with a crazy person? You don't know WHAT I might do!" Justin had that steely look in his blue eyes, like the butt end of a battleship.

"I think Justin has got the guy worried," said Ted.

"Alan is mostly a lot of talk -- I don't think anyone has ever challenged him," said Ben.

"Do you know him?" Mikey looked up at Ben.

"He's one of my students. He came to the office yesterday afternoon when Brian was there. That's how all this started."

Mikey gave me a disgusted look. "I should have known."

"Hey! I didn't do a fucking thing! I barely spoke to the kid!" Jesus -- I get blamed for everything. It never fails!

"It's true, Michael. Brian brushed Alan off. But Alan doesn't take no for an answer. He's the president of the Gay Grads Alliance on campus and thinks of himself as ...." Ben looked over at me. "The Brian Kinney of Carnegie Mellon. Sorry, Brian. But that's what he told me once."

"Wonderful. Now I'm getting fucked over by myself!"

"It wouldn't be the first time," said Mikey. And he was so fucking right.

Meanwhile, the floorshow was kind of winding down. Alan kept looking over at me as if I was somehow going to come around and walk off with him. He really was the one who was nuts. I gave him the finger.

"I'm out of here."

Justin followed him all the way to the door of Woody's, taunting him. The whole place was hooting and howling.

"I think it will probably be quite a while before good old Alan leaves campus and comes back to Woody's," said Ben.

"He's YOUR student?" Michael kept touching Ben's arm. The green-eyed monster was arising.

"And it will be a year before we get to finish this game." I put down the cue.

"I think we better call it a draw," said Ted.

"A draw! No fucking way!"

"I, for one, am anticipating all that expensive food I'm going to eat tomorrow at Papagano's -- otherwise, Chez Kinney for the evening." Emmett patted his stomach.

"Yeah, you'd better eat your fill because I'm only treating you vultures ONCE this trip."

"Once is all that will be necessary to make me a happy camper. I've already picked out my ensemble for the evening."

"Just don't dress Mikey again. Remember what happened the last time you dressed him to go to dinner there. He looked like a before and after picture for a Backstreet Boy."

"And that's a bad thing?" said Emmett.

Michael shook his head. "I looked ridiculous, Em."

"See if I give out the fruits of my expertise again. Just see."

"Here comes our winner and new world champion." Ted gestured to Justin, coming back into Woody's. He had apparently chased his nemesis all the way out onto Liberty Avenue.


"The conquering hero!" Emmett grabbed him in a hug.

"You shouldn't have followed that guy outside. He might have had friends out there."

"I wasn't worried. He just took off. Like a scared rabbit. Pussy boy." Justin took Ted's bottle of beer out of his hand and swigged it down.

I didn't want to crack up in front of Justin -- he was having such a good time in his moment of macho excess. But I didn't want it to get out of hand, either.

"You know, you want to be careful with someone like that. He was a little coward tonight, but some other time...."

"And you!" He handed Ted's beer back and pointed to me.

"Who, me?"


"What did I do NOW?" Always guilty until proven innocent.

"I'm sick of coming in here and finding guys with their hands on your ass."

"Welcome to the club," said Ted.

"Shut up, Ted." Justin reached out and took my double Absolut out of my hand and set it on the edge of the pool table.

"I'm not finished with that."

"Yes, you are. We're leaving. Right now." He grabbed me by the belt and started pulling me toward the door.

"But I haven't gotten a chance to talk to Mikey yet!"

"You can talk to him tomorrow at dinner." He jerked the belt, like a fucking leash.


"We're going. NOW!"

The guys were in hysterics by this time, but Justin wasn't smiling. He had that steely look in his eyes again as he hauled my ass out the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, boys."

I seemed to remember that same scene played out not all that long ago. But with the positions reversed. Sounded like it might not be a bad idea. When we got home.

Continue on to "Justification".

©Gaedhal, June 2002

Updated June 23, 2002