Title: "Mind’s Eyes..."

Author/pseudonym: xof

Fandom: Queer As Folk (USA)

Pairing: MN/BK

Rating: Nc-17

Status: New/Complete

Archive: Yes. Please. (Across The Pond, especially)

Feedback: xof@rose.net

Website: http://the-nesting-place.com/xof.html

Series/Sequel: Fourth in Dreams Series.

Disclaimers: I don't own these characters. I presume Showtime does…

Notes: A HUGE thank you and dedication to my two wonderful and divine net-conspirators – DeAnnaZ for chatting me up on the plot ideas and Calysta Rose for being the Beta-Mistress Supreme. They put up with a lot from me for this. HUGS. This story is a missing scene from Episode 22 and a continuation of the events I caused (yep, blame me) to occur for our two lads in my stories, "Only. Everything." - "Drifting." - "On Dreams of You…" I strongly encourage you to read those first. They’re on my site and at the archive mentioned above, among others. Hope you enjoy.

Summary: Michael’s response to receiving the shock of his life . . ..

Warnings: Spoilers for US QAF Season One. Another missing scene - that carries on the events of my previous story. Also mentions a dangerous kink that IS NOT condoned, nor recommended. Unless you are already brain-dead to being with . . ..

FEEDBACK is definitely desired. Would really appreciate knowing how you all feel on this one. Details gladly accepted.

"Don’t you know that you still have your powers? All your powers. And you always will. Whether you’re 18, or you’re 30 or you’re 50 or you’re a 100. You will always be young. You will always be beautiful. You’re Brian Kinney for fuck’s sake."

Hugging Brian to him, Michael took a deep breath. He tried to calm himself by maintaining contact but it only brought home what Brian had almost cost them both. The anger rose up twice as strong.

"Do you realize that there is a very good possibility that we won’t see each other for years, if ever again. I get on that plane and zilch. No hugs, no physical contact . . . just a voice on the phone or a message on the screen. You knew that and still, not a word. No goodbye, no coming to see me off at Emmett’s . . . just you and your dick. The perfect couple…" Gripping his fingers in Brian’s hair, clinging to anything he could to keep from thrashing the hell out of his best friend for angering and scaring him so badly. . . Michael jerked Brian’s face from his shoulder. Looking into those beautiful eyes, seeing him struggling to hear, to listen despite the induced haze clouding his mind, Michael tried to fight the trembling of his own body. So close to the possibility of goodbye. Too close to almost being a forever goodbye due to Brian’s stupidity. Both things mixed in his head. "After sixteen fucking years, you owe me more than no goodbye. I deserve more from you than silence, you asshole."

Brian pulled back unsteadily, avoiding his gaze. His voice still slightly slurred, he muttered sarcastically. "Superhero or asshole, Mikey. Make up your damn mind."

Grabbing the belt loops on Brian’s jeans to keep him from walking away, Michael bit out. "Well at least I’m in my right mind tonight. Which isn’t something I can say for you." He jerked the scarf from around Brian’s neck – not wanting to have it there to mock him with an echo of the image he’d seen when he’d opened his friend’s door.

Making a grab at the silk, Brian stumbled forward . . . almost causing them both to fall over. He leaned into Michael even as he meant to pull away, his mind and feet not responding in accord – signals mixed. "I don’t need a savior, Michael. Certainly not by David’s significant other. I just need me." The words sounded flat and distanced like he was somewhere other than in the room, his mind already moving towards the aftermath of Michael’s leaving.

Shaking Brian mindlessly, Michael yelled fiercely. "That is such bullshit. It always has been. More than anyone, I know that about you. I know what you need, what you avoid, what makes you happy and what scares you to death." Yanking his hands back to Brian’s head, clasping him with unbending determination Michael spoke the truth as he knew it in his heart. "And I know I’m a part of each of those things for you. Like you are for me."

Shaking his head against Michael’s own, foreheads pressed together as Brian struggled to speak through the jumble of his thoughts. "I don’t… We haven’t…" Stopping to lick his lips, to think of the words. "Doesn’t matter now. You’ve decided."

"How would you know what I’ve decided?"

Speaking in fragments Brian spoke angrily but in a quiet voice, "Name’s on the ticket. Life’s in a box on the way out of Never Never Land. You’re already gone."

Jerking at the sound of his friend’s resolution, Michael exploded. All the indecision, worry and doubt were blown to the moon as he pushed Brian around . . . shoving him bodily up onto the platform and towards the bed. "I’m here now, damn you. No matter what’s decided or where I may be tomorrow, we are going to have our goodbye."

Brian stumbled up the first step before he tripped and fell onto his ass beside the bed. "What the hell are you doing, Mikey?"

Throwing off his jacket, Michael crouched over his friend’s half prone body . . . crowding him backwards until they were practically on their backs. "For once in my life, exactly completely what I want to do and fuck everything else." The words ended with the murmur of lips against lips. Groaning into Brian’s mouth as his friend opened to him under the heat of possession, Michael mewled softly at once again having made this contact with the man below him. He reached down to tease Brian, feeling the shiver that passed through them both as his hand worked to free the as yet unsatisfied erection he’s seen a few minutes before.

Brian gasped into their kiss as the jeans were jerked down his hips, leaving him sprawled on the floor with denim lewdly framing his thighs and the darkened heat of his cock as it rose against his belly. "Michael…"

"Shhh, Sandman." Michael pushed him flat down, pressing his thigh between Brian’s legs . . . letting him feel the hard-on tasting his friend had caused. Nipping none too playfully at the man’s earlobe, Michael whispered huskily. "I’ve dreamt with you, drifted with you…." Biting down strongly on the skin behind Brian’s ear until his friend groaned out loud, he continued. "Now this nightmare of a day – finding you like this. God, Brian. It’s too much. But not seeing you before I leave…"

The rumbled of Brian’s voice halted his words. "If I didn’t think about it, then it wasn’t real. Like my birthday. It’s not something I can dream away."

Lifting up to met his gaze, Michael traced a hand down the side of his face . . . along the line of his neck and down the smooth expanse of Brian’s chest. "I don’t want anything about this to be something either of us will be able to forget." Michael kissed him again, humming warmly as Brian brought his hands up to frame his friend’s head and pulled him closer. Circling Brian’s wrists, Michael pressed him firmly to the floor and sat back. "I want you, Brian Kinney. Tonight, right now. Eyes wide open and not a trace of sleep in which to hide."

Brian pressed upwards slightly to test the hold of Michael’s grasp, before lifting his head for another kiss. He traced a line with his tongue from the bottom of Michael’s throat, up over his chin and to his mouth. Lifting his hips, he circled his groin against Michael’s behind as they kissed. Lying back down again, he licked his lips then smiled devilishly. "Got plans for me? Like fuck and run…"

"Plans, yes. Run, no. Not this time. I’m staying to see the sun."

Michael watched Brian’s eyes as they flashed brightly at the words. But then he saw a frown begin.

"What about David? He’ll be pissed if you don’t…."

"I don’t give a shit. Not right now. It’s what I want." Brushing his forehead against Brian’s, Michael tightened his grip on Brian’s hands. "You gonna let me stay, Sandman?"

In a seductive whisper he said, "Yeah, Mikey."

Michael watched as Brian lowered his eyes for a moment. Then with a smile, Brian asked. "What do you want?"

Biting back a groan at the wave of ideas that question caused to flood his brain, Michael answered firmly. "You. Naked on the bed…." Running his hands in a teasing trail down the exposed top of Brian’s thighs, Michael rose up and stood. "But first, come here." Reaching down, he smiled when his friend accepted the lift up . . . legs still trapped by his rucked down jeans. Michael walked around Brian’s body, kneeling at his back in order to push the denim down his legs. He playfully ran his fingernails along the man’s calves, smiling as Brian jerked in response. "Stay still. Let me look at you."

His voice quiet as if filled with found memories, Brian said, "You always look at me, Mikey."

Pressing his head into the soft sensitive skin at the base of Brian’s spine, Michael kissed him. The glide of his lips and the brush of his tongue drew a breathy sigh from Brian. Michael nodded with a smile that was both wistful and resigned. "Always beautiful, remember?"

The sound of Brian’s chuckle, both deep and husky, drove Michael’s own desire once more to the forefront. He would have thought being the one fully clothed would put him in a less vulnerable state of mind . . . shielded him to some degree. Not with Brian Kinney. The man was more at home in the nude than most people were fully clothed. Languid grace, even when not in motion.

Giving in to the need to touch, to taste . . . to know him once more, Michael leaned forward into his friend’s stance. He took Brian by the hips and ran his tongue along the inner curve of his ass.

Brian groaned, "Oh hell! Yes." He reached down and took his friend’s hand, intertwining their fingers as he arched back into the delicious sensations being caused by Michael’s tongue.

Michael laughed naughtily as he continued to trace the most intimate part of Brian’s body, knowing that the vibrations from his chuckling were only adding to the affect. Squeezing Brian’s hand with each forward press of his tongue against his friend’s opening, Michael moaned as his own body responded to the sense memory of having had Brian do the same to him. He reached around with his free hand to tease fingers over the warm balls that where starting to rise up in haste with the rush of Brian’s blood, avoiding the cock in favor of driving the man half mad. The sound of deepening breaths and winded moans cascaded down, infusing with the echo of Michael’s beating heart.

Too much. And too soon . . ..

Pulling back, Michael sat for a moment with his head bent forward . . . his hair brushing against the ticklish place at the back of Brian’s knees. He took a deep breath before speaking. "On the bed . . .."

Brian turned round, his eyes smoky with arousal. He purposefully bent and grabbed Michael by the arms, lifting him to stand before him. His words spoken as he made to take Michael’s mouth once more in a kiss, Brian murmured, "I think you’ve forgotten a step."

Michael only half heard the words as he reveled in Brian’s possession; moaning as the man stroked across Michael’s tongue with his own, tasting himself there by turns. When the words at last registered a moment later, Michael pulled back. "What?"

Brian licked his bottom lip, making a show at enjoying his friend’s flavor before he answered. "One of us has too many clothes on." He looked down the long line of his own body with a menacing smile. "And it doesn’t look like it’s me."

Watching as Brian reached out to undo the buttons of the plaid flannel shirt, Michael bit his lip in an attempt not to smile like an idiot . . . but the battle proved fruitless.

That is until Brian said, "This thing is horrible. Courtesy of Emmett de la Renta, I suppose?"

Avoiding his friend’s eye, Michael frowned. "No, uhm. David’s . . .." Looking down to see Brian’s fingers pulling back the material, he fumbled to explain. "All my stuff’s . . .. Well, on a truck and . . .." He fell silent, surprised when Brian forcibly jerked the shirt off his shoulders . . . letting it drop to the floor in a heap.

Brian slowly ran his hands over Michael’s pale skin, playing his fingers through the small tuft of hair at his breast. "That’s better, I’d say." He kissed him once more as he pulled at the belt round Michael’s waist, throwing it down as he reached to undo the pants. "Shoes, Michael."

Half dazed from the sudden fierceness of Brian’s touch, Michael nodded. He toed off the shoes, soaks and groaned as his friend raked down his pants with underwear in one swift move . . . the fabric scrapping slightly over Michael’s hard-on in the progress. Stepping clear, Michael threaded his fingers through Brian’s hair . . . pulling him back up before brushing their bodies fully together.

Both men murmured in pleasure, arching into the press of skin against skin. Michael guided his mouth again to Brian’s . . . nibbling just hard enough to make him groan. A sudden image skirted through his head of a time when they’d been standing close in the red light of Babylon’s bathroom, when he’d kissed Brian and placed his hand on the man’s crotch. Wanting to drive home the freedom of actually being able to touch and be touched in return, Michael ran a hand over Brian’s hip then down to stroke along the length of his friend’s aching cock. Hearing him gasp, Michael looked into his eyes before speaking his desire once more. "The bed. On your back…"

As Brian hummed appreciatively, Michael indicated that he should lie diagonally across the bed’s expanse. Michael waited until Brian was settled against the dark blue bedding before he added, "Hands above your head." He reached down and pulled the white silk scarf from the tangle of their clothing, wrapping the ends round his hands as he held the fabric taut. At Brian’s raised eyebrow, Michael sat next to him. "There’s a certain image I need to erase from my mind." Twirling his wrists round with the scarf till it looked as though they were tied together, Michael gave Brian a challenging look. "You game?"

Brian shook his head, half in wonder at Michael’s brazenness and half in amusement at being asked. At the light of serious intent that still shone in Michael’s face, Brian responded. "You don’t need to ask, Mikey. I’m game." He lifted his hands above his head and crossed his arms at the wrists.

Michael unraveled the scarf, dropping it as he climbed further on the bed . . . coming to kneel astride Brian’s body at his waist. Firmly running his hands up Brian’s torso from stomach to chest before continuing over his arms until he reached the wrists. Michael leaned in and gently kissed him. He sat up and traced below the circle of the shell bracelet around Brian’s right wrist. "I want you totally bare, even of this."

He watched as Brian’s arm jerked away instinctively at the words. His friend frowned as he looked away from Michael’s knowing gaze. Michael could feel the tension as it coursed rapidly through Brian’s body. Leaning down to kiss lightly over his friend’s set jaw to his ear, Michael whispered softly in reassurance. "I know. Really, I do . . . but this is me, Brian. I’ve seen them before." Trailing his tongue along the curve of the man’s ear and listening to the slight catch of his breathing, Michael made to reassure him that the past darkness would not intrude on their present light. "I told you all those years ago, when I first put that bracelet on your wrist that they weren’t really visible to anyone that wasn’t looking for them." Biting down on Brian’s ear lobe until his friend arched up and looked at him, Michael smiled. "No need to think, just let me . . .."

The momentary pause bore down on them as Michael waited for Brian to decide. Truth was that Brian had in fact gone without the bracelet on several occasions, usually at the gym where his hands where never still or when he was only half in his head, high with some trick. But for the most part, it was always present . . . shielding him from worry, covering the traces of his past moment of weakness and despair. A moment known only to a very few, just as Brian would always have it.

Brian closed his eyes briefly before nodding his head in agreement.

Michael waited until Brian met his gaze before kissing him again. Their lips played over and along each other as he ran his hand up to undo the tie. Drawing back, Michael leaned up on his knees and lifted Brian’s bare wrist to his mouth. Three lines, almost invisible with the passage of time marked the man’s inner wrist. Michael pressed a kiss to the skin as he reached down for the scarf, wrapping it round first one wrist before passing the material under the stand of the side table and then coming round to bind the other wrist together with the first, immobile.

Taking in the picture of eroticism Brian made - spread out, aroused and tied on the bed - Michael was hard pressed to find his next breath without difficulty. Trusting, hard and yet lacking in any projection of submission. "Good lord, look at you." He smiled, "Do you know the money I could make selling pictures of you like this?"

Laughing in response, Brian arched upwards as he pressed his body into Michael’s. "Fuck you . . .."

Feeling decidedly achy with the need for just that, Michael nodded. "I’d like that, but first….." Sliding down to lie between Brian’s spread legs, he nuzzled the man’s pubic hair then teased him by rubbing his hair over Brian’s cock. Enjoying the curses his actions caused, Michael licked the man’s inner thighs before breathing out warm air over his balls. Lifting Brian’s cock up to press against his stomach, Michael opened his mouth so that he could roll them over his tongue . . . loving it as Brian lifted his legs, arching into the sweet torture of Michael’s liquid warmth.

He brushed a finger repeatedly up and down the crease of Brian’s ass, even as he moved his oral attention higher to finally take his friend’s cock inside. Michael listened as Brian let out a growl in response. Relaxing his throat, he continued to press down slowly . . . agonizingly taking in the full length before lifting his head in a determined rhythm. He had to moan at the feel, the taste . . . hell even the reality of having Brian’s cock thrusting over his tongue once more. Keeping his friend off kilter proved easy enough as Michael drew back to lick the head and trace down the shaft with the barest of glides, the lack of pressure meant and succeeding in pissing Brian off.

"Mikey, if you don’t . . .."

His words were cut off as Michael pushed his finger into the pucker he’d been teasing. Michael loved seeing Brian at a loss as he lifted his hips to meet the digit’s progress, his mouth open and chest shining as he jerked his arms against the silk restraint. Michael didn’t know who was being tortured more, Brian for having his senses overloaded or himself for suffering at the lack of the same. Michael circled his hips, subconsciously, against the bedding in an attempt to focus his own raging desire. Nice but still not what he wanted most….

Michael pulled back from tormenting Brian, lifting himself up away from contact as he reached over into the bowl on the bedside table; the one with all the necessities needed to continue. He took the lube and a condom in hand then returned to sit back on his folded calves between Brian’s legs. His friend’s eyes were burning him with their hazel fire as Michael opened the tube and spread lube over his fingers.

"Do you have any idea how incredibly hot the thought of having you watch me do this is for me?" Rising up on to his knees, Michael reached back and played his slick fingers along his crease . . . circling them round until he pressed one into his body with a moan. He whispered raggedly, "Let alone the reality of doing it with you here," as he watched Brian’s eyes darkened. Two fingers this time, entering deep as Michael’s hips jerked in time to their invasion . . . his cock as hard as he could remember it ever being.

Breaths sounding slightly hollow, Michael groaned as he continued to fuck himself with his hand . . . working his flesh into relaxing for the third finger. "Brian, ahhhh." He stroked over his hard nipples with his free hand, not daring to touch his hard-on for fear of driving himself too close to the edge.

"Mikey, for fuck’s sake. Let me inside." Brian’s voice was tinged with need and hoarse with frustration.

Gasping as he removed his fingers, Michael opened the condom with shaky urgency. He covered Brian’s cock and then stroked lube along the shaft, biting his lip at the memory of what that hardness would feel like in his body. Michael crawled forward until he was close enough to kiss Brian, driving his tongue over his friend’s as they savored the moment.

Brian dropped his head back onto the bed. With an uncompromising tone he said, "Take my cock. I want to feel how tight you are."

Positioning himself, Michael guided Brian to his entrance. He bore down slowly, taking it inch by delicious inch until he was fully seated and leaning back against Brian’s raised thighs. "Yeah. You’re… It’s so…. God, Brian."

"Come on. Ride me, Mikey." Gasping as Michael thrust up then back down for the first time, Brian groaned. "I want to watch you move."

Michael obeyed with urgency, getting lost in the press and pull of their rhythm. His hands gripped at Brian’s thighs as his continued to thrust down and lift up. So good but . . . but not enough. Michael needed more, wanted desperately to feel the weight of Brian’s body above him . . . the drive of his hips slamming against Michael’s own.

Brian strained against the scarf, arms pulled taut. He couldn’t find the right leverage to fuck Michael the way they both wanted. In an agonized mutter, he was cursing in a stream. "Shit, ah…damn, that’s so…oh fuck…yeah!"

With a groan, Michael leaned forward . . . frantically reaching for the scarf. "Please come on, please." He gasped out as Brian licked across his nipples, nipping lightly. "Harder. Bite them." Finally jerking the knot loose, Michael clutched at Brian’s head close while his friend pulled his own hands free.

"Mikey, you better hold the fuck on." Brian rolled them both in a sudden flip that left Michael on his back, legs encircling Brian’s thighs.

"Ahhhh." Michael panted as Brian entered him once again, pressing deep before he began circling his hips . . . driving into him full force as he took Michael’s mouth with his own. Threading his fingers into Brian’s hair, Michael pushed his head down to his chest. "Do it, like I did before for you. I need . . .."

Words rushing out as he thrust powerfully back into Michael’s heat, Brian rasped. "He’ll see. He’ll know if I mark you."

Heart thundering in his ears, body slick and cock hard almost to the point of bursting without a touch, Michael snapped. "No limits any more. I want to feel you biting me." Each word holding the same intensity as the answering drive of Brian’s body into Michael’s. "Mark me, Brian. Please."

Brian grabbed Michael’s hands, holding them trapped over his friend’s head as he stopped moving. Still connected, he licked at Michael’s swollen lips and ran a wet line down the slope of chin, the curve of throat and the length of collar bone before he set his teeth against the soft flesh above Michael’s heart. A breath passed, a moment held fast by time and then the pressure came.

"Shit, yes!" Michael’s body jackknifed, arching into the fire rather than away from the pain. He moaned continuously as Brian licked the indention, sucking at the reddened skin with the intent to bruise . . . all the while thrusting slowly, decadently into him. Michael shook his head side to side, half frantic to come . . . and to have Brian do so as well. He tightened his anal muscles on every outward glide of Brian’s cock, surprising the man enough to hiccup his burning strokes.

"Fuck. You’re . . . ahhhh." Brian pushed his hand down to Michael’s hard-on, stroking him relentlessly as he brushed against his prostate. So close himself and working to drive Michael into the chasm.

In a flash, Michael’s world clenched – his mind, his hands, his ass - and his heart all squeezed together then blew apart. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear; only feel a pleasure so intense that it left him almost shell shocked. He knew in some place outside the rush that Brian had cried out and come crashing down on his body, but his thoughts where too tangled to make the connection. Then for a moment his world went dark.

His next clear point of reality was Brian’s voice as he murmured, "God, I think I just died." He was sprawled on his back, with Michael pulled in close to his side . . . their position very similar to the one assumed the last time they were in Brian’s bed.

Laughing with a voice made hoarse from over-use, Michael answered. "Superheroes never truly die. They almost always awaken to a new life, a new day."

Brian sighed, "Forever young and forever beautiful. Right, Mikey?"

Pressing closer to Brian’s body, Michael curled into his warmth. "Forever in my mind’s eye." He shivered suddenly with the memory of Brian standing on that insignificantly appointed chair, stark white line around his throat, eyes fluttering with lack of oxygen as his hand flew mindlessly over his flesh . . . on the brink of orgasm and possible death. How could Brian have ever thought that accidentally dying in such a way would lend itself to regaining a glory he’d never lost? It would had been the worst of bad jokes. A total waste of the years he had yet to live, to fuck and possibly . . . hopefully, to love.

Michael hugged Brian’s tightly . . . not knowing how to convey his fear, anger and helplessness that all this caused him; especially added with the indecision he faced about leaving with David.

Brian remained silent, letting his easy acceptance of their present state lend itself to reassuring his friend. He brushed his hand along the line of Michael’s jaw and listened to the soft rhythm of their breathing.

Moments passed and then Michael asked in a hushed tone, "Did you ever play at making tents as a boy?"

"What do you mean ‘making tents’?"

"With sheets and things. Hanging them over chairs, like creating your own little world. One that was always safe and warm and yours."

Brian spoke in a chuckle, "Where the passage of time was signaled by the flick of a flashlight and the shelf life of your batteries?"

Hiding his smile against Brian’s chest, Michael nodded. "Could create new worlds, new friends and read as many comic books as possible. Nothing and no one missing from your life . . .."

Releasing a slow hum, Brian shook his head. "No. I guess I didn’t. I got really good at hiding out in the open, free only in mind until I was old enough to start living that way too."

Michael leaned up and kissed Brian softly. Smiling his most charming smile, he said, "I guess I hung onto that tendency a bit longer than most. Although, I moved on to bigger and better versions. A one man tent beside my bed, even. Mom got me one second hand when she grew tired of sacrificing her sheets to the cause." He savored the rise and fall of Brian’s chest as his friend laughed softly.

"How come I’ve never heard about any this before?"

Staring at his fingers tracing circles over Brian’s stomach, Michael answered. "I came home one day from school, walked upstairs and took down my hiding place. Never needed it after that . . .."

Brian lifted up Michael’s head, holding his gaze as he spoke. "What changed?"

"I found something else to feel at home in . . . or someone else, rather."

The moment stretched as Michael took in Brian’s expression of fond memory and adoration. He gasped loudly when his friend suddenly shoved him back and pounced, tickling him till he begged. "Stop, you bastard. Stop!"

His words halted by the pressure of Brian’s kiss and the whisper, "Thanks, Mikey."

Brian pulled back to ask in a reluctant tone, "How long till the flight?"

Finally catching his breath, Michael answered. "Longer than I thought. Seems the reservations have been pushed back to tomorrow night."

"You sound surprised."

"David didn’t deem to tell me until an hour into Emmett’s play at Butch Hostess of the Year."

"Yeah, well someone should tell Emmett that Martha Stewart’s got that title nailed to her check book for life. Ever the bride’s maid, never the bride." Smiling at Michael’s laugh, Brian grew serious. "Still leaving?"

Voice faint, he whispered. "Name’s on the ticket…"

Nodding his head, "So I said before." Brian pressed his forehead to Michael’s. "Mikey, do what you need to for you. What you want, not what anyone else tells you to do or expects." He kissed his friend slowly before adding, "Not even me."

"I will." Clutching his arms round Brian’s body, Michael closed his eyes.

There was knowing what was best and knowing what you wanted most.

God give him the strength to know which path to choose.