Flashes - 2

[7wildwaysup]

It’s only a flash, then it’s gone… 

Thanks to Masterglory for making my beautiful banner your help is greatly appreciated… 

I was always disappointed that Cowlip didn’t explore more of the loss of memory issues, and the depth of emotions that live unresolved in them. This fanfic explores the hidden emotions and the way memories can invade and consume your subconscious until they finally rear there nasty little head, or should I say a beautiful blond boys creativity.

Title: It’s only a Flash, then it’s gone…
Story Type: AR
Word Count: 1233
Rating: NC17
Warnings: None so far

Summary: Now for my take on what my Flash series is really about... is emotions... love, desire, longing, need, understanding, and pure lust...

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable charters, settings, plot, etc. are property of their respective owners, including, but not limited to Russell T. Davies, Cowlip, and Showtime. The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended…

Chapter 2 – Finding Myself Again…

I’m really enjoying having extra creative space all to myself, I can come and go as I please, and no one seems to be bothered by my erratic schedule. I made friends with the night maintenance crew, and computer technicians.

Mostly they’re here to clean the building, restock the vending machines, maintain the mechanical working of our equipment for the machine shop, kilns, welding equipment, glass blowing torches, and other various tools in the art department that always seems to be in dire need of repair.

Jake and Norman have both been extremely helpful to me in the last couple of month since I become a bit of a nomad locked away in my studio. Jake is the Lead Engineer for building maintenance and repairs, while Norm is the King of the Nerds.

One of the odd jobs Jake is responsible for is managing property disposition where all old, oddball, and unused/recycled equipment and merchandise is logged, repaired, cleaned, donated or sold.

I never really paid much attention to what went on in the rooms below me, I knew it had a delivery dock and freight elevator and assumed it was for shipping and receiving for the university. I had started to notice as I was staying later and later into the nights this past month or so, hearing loud and sometimes strange noise coming from downstairs, yet I never saw anyone coming or going.

Friday afternoon I was standing looking out the windows of my studio when I saw a truck pull up. Jake climbed out and waved to me to come down. When he opened the door I was amazed at the things I saw.  The warehouse was filled with just about anything you could imagine. Furniture, computer equipment, old radios, washers and dryers, clothing, household goods, you name it. It was like stepping into a hoarder’s world of wonder, only Jake was no hoarder, and after close inspection it was obviously all sorted, organized and in various states of repair.

Most would say it was just junk, but in some way it was like stepping into a time capsule dedicated to PIFA. I found a portrait of the first president of PIFA drawn by a Jonah McKinney when he was still a student studying here back at the turn of the century; it was still in a sketch book that looked to be about over 100 years old. I fell in love with this place immediately. 

Jake asked if I needed any thing for my studio; I was a little uncomfortable and hesitated slightly. He said let’s go take a look and see what you have already and what you might need. We walked upstairs to my studio together; I was still holding the ancient tablet in my hand.

I forgot until we opened my studio door that I had left my sleeping bag on the floor. I looked down and blushed when I saw him frowning at it. He said surely kid, you have some place to stay. Yea, I do I just don’t care for the company so much these days.

We walked around my studio, and he commented about how large my space was and how the ceilings were almost 20’ tall with a wall of glass providing perfect afternoon sun. I did love my studio, and I knew I was lucky to have the support of the faculty, and now what seemed like the maintenance staff.

I noticed it was getting late, and I had promised Debbie I would show for the weekly family dinner.  I wanted to go, I haven’t been in what seems like an eternity, and I really want to see Brian. I wonder if he thinks about me, misses me…

I think about him all the time now; I wish I could tell him how I still feel, but I know he won’t care… I now remember that other look in his eyes, the one from when I left the Rage party in Ethan’s arms… So young… So foolish…

I’m about to get on the bus to head to Deb’s house when Ethan pulls me aside. He doesn’t want me to go to Deb’s, and he won’t go with me under any circumstances. He hates the idea that I might see Brian; I think he knows I’m still in love with him.

He doesn’t like any of my old friends, gets jealous when ever anyone calls or comes over, hates to hear anything about the “gay scene”  as he puts it; it’s all too beneath him. Is it possible to be gay and be homophobic?

Now he’s taken to following me around and spying on me. I can’t believe this total shit, when I’m pretty sure he’s the one that sleeping with that admirer from Harrisburg. Does he really think I’m a fool?

I don’t want to fight with him. I guess I don’t really want to do anything with him anymore. I just feel tried, drained, exhausted, nothing…

Done…

He was never my partner…

He never understood me…

He never tried…

He’s still talking; all I hear anymore is white noise.

I need a drink; I’m in no shape to go to Deb’s. I start at Woody’s, oh boy, happy hour… When did Woody’s get a dance floor…

God, the guys are so hot…the rooms spinning. They all seem to want to dance with me….

Ted is trying to pull me away… Ted… I don’t think so… I don’t think Brian would like this, I say… Ted says I’m sure he won’t, let’s go…

After being pulled across the room a ways; I tell Ted that I’m not attracted to him. He smiles and says thank god, I feel like living through the night… I’m confused… I tell Ted I want Brian, that I still love him…

I imagine that I hear Brian telling me he loves me, that he misses me, wants me… I feel like I’m going to pass out.

I feel safe being held up in his strong arms; I can’t see him behind me, but I know him, his smell, the smell of wood, spices, and Jim Beam. But most of all that smell that is totally him, oozing out of every pore. I love that smell, I could get drunk on that smell every day for the rest of my life.

TBC

Comments

[7wildwaysup.livejournal.com]

Wow, now after reading my post from this morning, I see that it is a perfect example of my poor writing skills...

It's embarrassing how many typos and missing words I don't catch on my own... yikes...

I understand what you mean about changing the voice. I sometimes wonder if people think I don't write Brian with a true voice as per the show...

But I guess I'm just so in love with these two that I have to write them in the voice's I think that their really feeling; and not necessarily in voice that cowlip projected onto them...

Of course it's hard for me to write a cold, snarky uncaring Brian, because I'm all about the love.

But I'm trying to teach myself the write angst in marriagematerial.com. So I gave Brian leukemia...

What a bitch, evil Kathleen strikes again...

I just friended positive pat a few days ago, what a coincidence. I'll think about what you said for few days and maybe I'll contact her, will see...

Thanks again for everything as always... ~ K

[yvonnereid.livejournal.com]

You are welcome,you can write Brian how ever you wish to,if he was the same same as the show he'd be kinda boring after a while,thats why I love these story you write,hes totally different and very caring and thats nice to see instead of how he is on the show.

When did you give him leukemia????
Ok,thats it,im raiding your fics (all of them today) to find that!!!
Love and hugs

[7wildwaysup.livejournal.com]

That my fic marriagematerial.com where I gave him leukemia...

But no need to worry there always happy ending in all my fics even the death ones... ~ K