Boys Keep Swinging Chapter 11

[nothing_rhymes_with_ianto]

After three and a half years, Justin comes home from New York for good.
Chapter Summary/Teaser: Melanie and Lindsay tell Gus they're moving back. Michael and Ben have a conversation. Brian has a nightmare and so talks to Debbie and decides to make things right.

 

Go back to Chapter 10

"Linds? Hey, Lindsay!" Melanie called into the apartment. Lindsay came in through the kitchen, phone to her ear, grinning. She waved hello, kissed Mel on the cheek and wandered into the living room, sitting down on the couch. Mel wandered in and stood behind her in time to catch the end of the conversation.

"That's wonderful! I'll tell her. Thank you ever so much. See you soon!" Melanie raised her eyebrows questioningly when her wife turned to look at her. Lindsay grinned. "Better start packing. Jennifer found a house not too far from where we used to live."

"That's wonderful, Honey! Better go tell Gus before he has bursts from anticipation. "

"Jennifer said the owners are ready to sell anytime. When's the earliest you think we can leave?"

"A few weeks, probably. I'll have to notify work and the goddamn school and Gus's school and things. Just tell Gus three weeks. It'll give us something to aim for." She smiled gently at her wife and Lindsay grinned.

Lindz headed up the stairs, a goofy elated grin on her face. "Oh, Gus," she sing-songed excitedly.

---

Brian slept through most of the day, which was unusual for many reasons. The first was that he rarely slept late, even on weekends. He'd get up early and then get stoned. The second was that after Debbie had left, he hadn't gotten drunk and passed out, or smoked any more weed. He'd watched a movie and then gone to bed. And third was that he was actually dreaming. Brian Kinney didn't usually dream unless he was under extreme duress or high out of his mind.

He kept dreaming about the bashing. He saw Justin grinning at him, turning and walking away. Then he was crumpled on the floor in his tuxedo, covered in blood. Brian ran toward him, screaming "No!" until his throat was hoarse, but Justin just laid there. And then the scene morphed, and Justin was standing there in a black turtleneck, beaten black and blue, fingers and palms bloody. Brian reached out to him, but a pair of hands -one holding a violin bow- appeared in the air and yanked Justin out of reach, ignoring the cries of pain each pull tore from the blonde's mouth. Then the scene changed once more and Justin was again crumpled on the ground, this time dirty and covered in ashes. Brian ran to him, pulling at his clothes, calling to him, but he didn't move. His body was heavy and cold. Someone covered him with a blanket and lifted him onto a stretcher. Brian wouldn't let go. Hands took the body away. He couldn't see the faces because he was staring at the blonde hair, dirty and matted beneath the blanket. He sank to the dirty, glass-strewn floor.

A cry tore from his throat, waking him up. Brian sat up. He was gasping, covered in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead, clutching the pillow on Justin's side of the bed. Slowly, he uncurled his fingers from the pillow and sat there limply until his breathing returned to normal. Then he got up, splashed water on his face, put on a pair of jeans, grabbed a joint, and started pacing.

What the hell was he going to do to get Justin to come back? He wasn't used to going after people, it wasn't what Brian Kinney did. He wasn't used to solving things by talking. Talking. Maybe if he asked Justin if they could talk. God, he didn't want to talk. It meant opening up about shit he didn't want to think about. But, if it brought Justin back…

And Britin. He could keep Britin if Justin wanted him to, although he still didn't understand it. It may have held happy memories for Justin, but it only held sadness for Brian. It was the place Brian had proposed, but Justin had left him after that and they'd never gone to the house a second time. He hadn't been back there since the first time. He couldn't bear to go into that huge empty house.

He stopped pacing and lit another joint, then resumed his path. How the hell was he supposed to do this?

---

"Ben!" Michael slammed into the house with a grin on his face. Ben looked up from grading papers with raised eyebrows. Michael began talking, his words shoving against other to get out of his mouth, tumbling together. Ben held up his hands, a small smile on his face.

"Woah, Michael. Slow down. Take a breath. Say whatever you just said, again. Slowly."

Michael breathed in through his nose and let it out. "Mom called the store about an hour ago. She said Jennifer, Justin's mom, came over today. Jennifer told her that yesterday, Mel and Lindz called her looking for a house here in Pittsburgh. They're moving back to Pittsburgh!"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes!"

"Michael, that's wonderful!"

"Hey, what's all the noise about?" Hunter stood at the top of the stairs. "You two are louder than my music."

Michael turned, grinning. "Mel and Lindsay are moving back to Pittsburgh! We get to see JR and Gus!"

"Awesome, man!" Hunter came down and gave his dads a hug, then retreated back to his room. Ben and Michael chuckled.

"Teenagers." Michael shook his head. Ben turned to him, his face a little more serious.

"I have some good news too, Michael." He took Michael's hands. "In order to make sure it never happens again, I'm joining a support group for recovering steroid users."

Michael looked into his eyes, then kissed Ben gently on the mouth. "Thank you." He said softly.

---

The phone rang. Debbie wiped her hands on her 'I keep all my best treats under my apron' apron, grumbling.

"Hold your fuckin' horses, I'm comin'." She muttered to the phone, even though the person on the other end couldn't hear her. She picked it up. "Yeah?"

"How?" His voice was flat.

"Brian…" She was confused. How what? She frowned. Suddenly, it dawned on her. He was continuing the conversation from night before. Stoned, of course. She suddenly felt sorry for him.

"How?" This time was more forceful.

"Honey, I can't tell you how to go after him. It's something you need to figure out yourself. He knows you love him, sweetie. He just needs to be reminded sometimes, that's all."

"I don't..." was a sigh that blew across the line.

"You can do it. You've done it before."

"Deb…" He sighed again. The weed was definitely having an effect. He couldn't even make a full sentence.

"Sober up, figure out what you're going to do, and go find him." A huff of exasperation came across the line, and she hung up, knowing that he'd follow her advice anyway, he usually did.

Debbie went back to her cooking with a frown. She felt so sad that her boys were having trouble again. And the fact that Justin knew how hard it was for Brian to say and not show his affection bothered her. She felt sorry for Brian for having to fight, for suffering without Justin again and again, for having to endure Justin leaving over and over. But she also felt sorry for Justin, for having a boyfriend who was so complicated, so emotionally stunted, so scarred on the inside. Debbie had a feeling that she and Vic were the only ones who really knew the whole Brian Kinney. And she was pretty sure that Vic had known him better than she had. After all, Vic had been the one that Brian had sat up with late at night and talked to. She hoped Brian would one day open up to Justin more than he'd opened up to her or Vic.

She hoped everything would work out.

---

Daphne bopped her head to the music as she and Justin sat on her couch watching Moulin Rouge. It was just one of those movies that queers with fag hags were obligated to watch with their hags over and over. So they did, singing along and laughing.

Justin's cell phone rang and pulled his attention away from the movie. He fished it out of his pocket, glanced at the Caller ID and stopped. His eyes flicked from the phone to Daphne and back. She was looking at him now, and seemed to realize from his apprehensive expression who it was.

"Go on, answer it." She paused the movie and stood up, moving toward her room. "I'll get out of your way." He smiled his thanks and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Justin." He heard Brian take a breath, the rough slide of skin as he ran a hand across his face. "I…Can we talk?"

"Uh…yeah?" Justin answered slowly.

"Meet me….meet me at Kinnetic in an hour. Everyone else will have gone home by then."

"Okay."

"Later, Justin."

"Later." He closed the phone slowly, a little confused. Daphne came out of hiding.

"Well?" Her face was eager. "What'd he want?"

"I'm not sure." Justin frowned. "I'm going to meet him at Kinnetic in about an hour."

"Want me to drive you?"

"Nah, I'll walk."

"Okay."

Brian paced in his office, uncertain of what to do or say. The few people who stayed on weekends were gone for the night, so he was alone. He made one more round of the perimeter of the room, then sat down at his desk, tapping a pen against the surface nervously. He sighed. Why did this freak him out so much? He had no idea what he was going to do or say, he only knew that if he didn't talk to Justin soon, he might lose him.

He heard a gentle knock on the glass door and looked up. Justin smiled uncertainly at him as he walked inside the office.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They waited awkwardly, the silence growing. Justin shifted from foot to foot as Brian tried to gather his courage to talk. Standing up, he came to lean against the side of his desk. He opened his mouth, stretching it as if testing its mobility.

"Justin, I…." He sighed. "I…didn't mean to mistrust you. Ethan…came to the loft and told me you weren't with him. I just, I just…I'm not used to, y'know, trusting people and letting them in."

"I know, Brian." Justin's voice was soft as he tried to understand.

"I fucking miss you. And I don't want you to go again. I think that words are bullshit, and actions show better how I think, but I know you believe in the power of words. So, I….I want you to know…that…" He took a breath. He hated to say those words, because he didn't truly believe in them, hadn't believed in them since he was a child running from parents who said they loved him. He exhaled, opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked at Justin, at the anticipation and hope in those blue eyes, and tried again. "I love you. You know I do. I love you."

Justin face broke into a smile. "Brian…"

Brian held up a hand. "Wait," he implored. "I…we can keep Britin, if you want. I just don't know what to do with it."

"Brian," Justin's voice was soft. He strode across the room and stopped in front of Brian. He cupped Brian's face in his hand. Brian automatically leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and savoring the warmth of Justin's palm. "Brian. You don't have to say it all the time. I just want to hear it every once it a while. I know you show it all the time, but you know me, hopeless romantic."

Brian gave a weak smile. "Twat." Justin smiled, knowing that the name was just another one of Brian's 'I love you's.' "What about the house? What do you want to do?"

"I don't need it, Brian. It's just a house. It may mean us, but it's not us. The loft has more memories of us than that house will ever have."

"But-"
"I did a lot of thinking while I was at Daphne's. I didn't really notice it, but I guess I realized some things. And one is that I don't need a house to know how you feel about me. And that I know you trust me more than you've trusted almost anyone else in your life. That's enough for me."

"Sunshine?"

"Yeah?"

"You're so annoying."

"I love you, too, Brian."

Chapter 12

Comments

[marny1.livejournal.com]

* makes happy dance again *
Bravo Brian you did it.

* hugs *