Josselin Kohl (josselin) wrote,
Josselin Kohl
josselin

New Series

Okay, so I’ve been telling everyone I wasn’t going to write for a week or two while I caught up on my studying and tried not to flunk out of college. But apparently that was all just a big lie. I've been possessed by this new idea, so I just had to start writing.

Now, however, I'm pissed off with it because I don't like the beginning. It's too much like the beginning of Queer Survivor--it's just so damn *convenient* to start a fic off with an announcement in the diner. Ugh. But I can't think of another way to start, and I'm bored and lazy, so I'm posting it anyway, even though I don't really like it.

Also, ::whining:: soundczech, where are you? I *need* you to help me plan out the plot!

Also again--if anybody has a suggestion to fill in the [put comic book name here] blank in the story, let me know.



Alien—Part One
by Josselin Kohl
Because Jenn’s not the only one that can do creepy, dammit. I'm going to give everybody nightmares!

Retrospectively, Brian decided that it all began that one Sunday morning in the diner. Sunday mornings are somewhat traditional as being more spiritual than perhaps the usual weekday morning, but for Brian Kinney, Sunday mornings were more traditionally spent in bed, recovering from a massive hangover, so of course he botched the whole thing up.

* * *

Brian’s half-listening to Michael’s enthusiastic story about the creepy guy who’d been stalking him at the supermarket the day before when Emmett and Justin walk into the diner. Emmett looks exhausted and pained; in contrast, Justin’s practically bouncing with energy. Emmett sort of collapses slowly into the booth, leaning his head on Michael’s shoulder and groaning softly. “Water.” Emmett says pathetically. “Eggs. Over easy.”

Justin slides in opposite Emmett and greets Brian with an enthusiastic kiss, only afterwards bothering with a verbal greeting. “Hey,” he says to Brian, grinning.

“Hey,” Brian says reflexively in response. “Where the fuck were you last night?” This comment reveals, of course, that Brian is accustomed to knowing where Justin is during the night hours, and might even have worried about Justin when he wasn’t aware of his whereabouts. But no one at the table takes any particular notice of the implications of the question.

“I crashed with Emmett at the munchers,” Justin explains quickly, then moving on his more exciting news. “You’ll never believe what happened to Emmett and I last night.”

Brian and Michael look from hyper-Justin to suffering-Emmett, and then at each other, and then back to Justin, Brian with a carefully bland look, and Michael with a quizzical expression. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?” Justin asks Emmett, who only whimpers in response. “Emmett and I saw an alien spaceship,” Justin announces excitedly.

There’s a moment of complete silence, and then Michael bursts out laughing. “Yeah, I saw a lot of aliens, too,” Michael agrees. “After they gave out those stupid antennae headbands at Babylon and sprayed green body paint all over the place.”

After a second, Brian joins him with a disbelieving half laugh/half cough. “Okay,” Brian says, “no more drugs for you.”

Justin jokingly punches Brian in the shoulder. “Shut up. I didn’t do any drugs. The spaceship was just amazing. Emmett, tell them what you remember,” Justin says coaxingly.

Emmett lifts his head off of Michael’s shoulder and faces Justin with an apologetic look. “I remember that I’m never, never, never, ever taking drugs from Anita again.”

“Whatever,” Justin says, still grinning. “Tell them about the spaceship!”

“There was no spaceship, honey,” Emmett says. “It was the drugs. Reason number four-hundred and thirty-three why you should never, never, never, ever do drugs.”

Justin frowns. “I didn’t do any drugs,” he protests. “I swear.”

“Well, what did the spaceship look like?” Michael asks reasonably.

Justin describes what he saw—a bright light in the sky, and then a circular-type ship, shining the light down on the field they were in.

“Hey,” Michael says, “that’s just like the Vawhe death beam space ship in the latest [comic book name] issue.”

Justin frowns slightly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Weren’t you reading that yesterday at the shop?” Michael continues. “I remember you said something about the design of the villain’s spandex outfit.”

“Well, yeah, I guess so,” Justin agrees reluctantly. “But the ship we saw was…brighter,” he concludes.

“What the fuck were you doing out in a field?” Brian interrupts.

Justin frowns again. “I don’t remember, exactly. Emmett, what were we doing in the field?”

“Fuck if I know,” Emmett declares. “I don’t even remember a field.”

Brian nods with an expression on his face that indicates that he’s weighed all of the evidence and is coming to the only obvious conclusion. Michael looks at Justin with a vague sort of pity and amusement, and Emmett’s still whimpering and begging for coffee. Michael changes the subject back to his story about the creepy guy in the grocery store; Brian listens with his full attention now that his nagging worry about Justin is satisfied. And Justin sort of plays with his food instead of eating and is suspiciously silent.

* * *

So Brian thought that was the end of it. It wasn’t, of course. It was only the beginning.

TO BE CONTINUED
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