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nothing_rhymes_with_ianto) wrote2010-06-06 03:57 pm
Boys Keep Swinging Chapter 16
Chapter Summary/Teaser: Brian bitches at Justin for his stupidity. Ben gives Michael some important advice, and Michael begins to make a decision. Justin is fed up with Brian's hovering and calls him out, which results in a confession.
The first thing Brian did when he got to the hospital was grab Justin by the shoulders and yank him close. He'd already had a minor freak-out over the phone, but he decided that now that he was with Justin in person, it was time for another one. Justin and Daphne followed him out to his car, silent. They got in and Brian pulled out, turning his face in Justin's direction while keeping his eyes on the road.
"What the fuck? Why didn't you call me as soon as you got to the hospital? I hope you let them check your goddamn head, or we're going right back there."
"They did. I'm fine."
"Good. Daphne, I'm glad you're alright. Where am I taking you?"
"Thanks. Just to my apartment."
Brian nodded and dropped her off, then made his way back to the loft. They took the elevator up and Brian insisted that he take it easy and go to sleep as soon as they got inside.
Justin winced as he pulled off his nice clothes and replaced them with sweatpants and a t-shirt. Brian was staring at him, drink in hand, when he came down the steps.
"You're a fucking stupid ass, you know that? Why didn't you fucking call me immediately. You should've at least had your medical card with you, you know. What if the crash had been worse than it was?"
Justin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Brian was worried, and he covered that up with anger. "I know, Brian." He replied.
"Well? Did the doctor tell you anything I need to know?"
"He just wants me to stay still and off my feet for a little while, to let my ribs and ankle heal."
"Well, then, you're not leaving here tomorrow."
"But the diner—"
"No. If you want, you can go to Daphne's or whatever. But you're not working." Justin returned to the bedroom, grumbling as he slowly got in.
Pounding on the door and Debbie's loud voice woke them up the next day. Brian groaned and pulled on his sweatpants, pulling the door open.
"Did you seriously have to come over so early?"
"I heard what happened. I'm so glad Sunshine is alright!"
"Yeah, he's alright. He's sleeping."
"No I'm not." A sleepy voice came from the steps to the bedroom.
"Sunshine! I'm so happy!" Debbie looked him over, beaming at the fact that her boy was okay, then her expression turned stern. "But you're not comin' to work today. Or the next couple of days. You need to rest up, to heal."
"She's right, Justin."
"But—"
"No buts." Justin rolled his eyes, grumbling "Fine," before turning and heading back to the bed. Brian kissed Debbie quickly on the cheek then led her toward the door.
"I have to go to work, Deb. I'll see you later." She gave him a little hug and left.
Brian glanced back toward the bedroom before he left the loft, a worried expression on his face.
"Hey, Mikey, I'm going to the movies tonight. Want to come?"
"I don't have any money."
"So? Sneak in. I'll let you in, okay?"
"Ummm…what are we going to see?"
"Ghostbusters, Mikey, what else?"
"Okay."
"Good. Meet me there in two hours, alright?"
"Sure, Brian."
Brian told him to sneak around to the side, and he did as he was told, waiting out in the cold until Brian let him in the side door. They enjoyed the movie, laughing too loudly, Michael shushing Brian when he made brash comments about Sigourney Weaver.
Leaving afterwards, they laughed and joked, until they got to Michael's house. Brian had to go home, and his face turned serious and stoney when he realized the time.
"See you later, Brian." Michael grinned, trying to cheer his friend up. Brian smiled tiredly.
"Later, Mikey."
The jingling bell as the door opened startled Michael out of his reverie, his memories of his best friend at age fourteen. Ben walked over to the counter and gave him a hello kiss. He frowned when he saw Michael's expression.
"You okay? You seemed a little preoccupied yesterday, and now you look awful. Something wrong?"
Michael shook his head. "I don't know. I-I tried to talk to Brian again last night. I just…it didn't go well. He said we have nothing in common. He doesn't want to be friends anymore. We've been best friends since we were fourteen! We have our entire childhood in common!"
Ben nodded sagely, a thoughtful look on his face. He took Michael's hands. "Michael, maybe Brian is growing up. Not just kids do it, you know. Everyone changes and evolves. Maybe he's changing. And you are, too. And your changes just don't include each other."
"I don't know. I really am sorry for what I said to him. I just wish we could still be friends."
Ben came around the counter and took Michael in his arms. Michael sank against his touch, leaning into his broad chest. "I know, baby, I know."
Michael sighed, then felt Ben stiffen at his next words. "I just don't understand why he thinks Justin, of all people, is 'The One.' I don't get it."
Melanie raised her glass of champagne, smiling at her wife from across their dining room table. Lindsay raised her glass as well.
"To us." Melanie stated. "To coming home. To our success. To our luck in being able to start right back up in our old jobs without too much hassle."
"To us." Lindsay repeated. They drank.
For a little while, they talked about Gus and Jenny, what they wanted to find in terms of daycare. Gus would be starting up at school soon, but they needed after school daycare for him, as well as care for Jenny. Lindsay didn't want a nanny, so they'd have to settle for a public daycare or someone who ran care out of their own home.
The subject turned to work, and Melanie told Lindsay that she'd pretty much be doing the same thing she'd been doing before they left. She just needed to renew some agreements and forms, and she'd be on her way. Lindsay said that Sidney had asked her to come back to her old job, with the benefit of also being curator and part-time manager. Which, for some reason, reminded her of Justin's show. Melanie listened to her gush about the amazing art. They really were both very proud of Justin. Melanie felt a swell of pride just at the thought of someone like Justin becoming such a big success in so little time. She tuned back into what Lindsay was saying.
"And the expressiveness of his work just blew me away. There was so much experience in all of his art. And I don't just mean artistic experience, I mean life experiences. It was like the paintings of someone twice his age. He's incredible."
"Well, he has gone through a lot more than most people, honey."
"Yes, I know. But there was work at that gallery from when we first met him, from right after the GLC show all the way up to now. There were sketches and drawings of all of us. It was like watching a movie about the past eight years. He's amazing. He's a genius. I just don't understand why he's not still in New York."
"Because he's here, with Brian, whom he loves and he's here, in Pittsburgh, where he belongs. Where his family is. Where his heart is."
Lindsay nodded at her plate and took another drink, not looking at her wife.
"Michael, what are you talking about?"
"That brat's left him four times. Four! And he still lets him stay. Justin's hurt Brian so many times. He needs someone who will be considerate to him, who will let him be free. Justin made all these rules. He even made Brian go out to New York when they weren't even together! And he's Brian. He shouldn't be kept on a leash. They're not even a real couple. Not really. Look how many times they've broken up. And they both still trick all the time. Anyway, I just don't see how Brian could think that Justin was the One for him."
Ben stared at him, expression strange. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again a few times, as if uncertain as to where to start.
"Michael, I don't—Why— You shouldn't—" He sighed, frowned, and started again. "Look, I just don't understand why you would question someone else's relationship. Why you would say something like that. That would be like Brian saying he doesn't understand why you think I'm 'The One.'"
"But that's easy. I love you and you love me. We're married. We have children and a home and everything. We've been together for six years. It's obvious that you're the one."
Ben sighed again, shaking his head slightly. Michael frowned. He didn't understand what Ben's problem was. Ben looked up at him. "Michael, I think you should just try to get over Brian. I know it's hard, and I know it will take a long time, but since he's made it obvious that he doesn't want to be friends anymore, maybe you should at least try to be neutral when it comes to him. You know, stay civil. I know you love him a lot. And I know you'll never forget him, or your memories together, but it's time to start new memories, without him."
Michael stared. He was hearing what Ben was saying, but he really wasn't sure that he was ready to give up his lifelong friendship, his comfort and safety blanket, his best friend who had always supported him. Until now. He thought of Brian's harsh words, his punch from years ago, the fight they'd had after Jenny was born, the arguments they'd had while Justin was in New York and the girls in Toronto, the cold, angry look in his eyes at Mel and Linds's house the other day. Maybe, he thought, maybe it was time to let Brian go. But it would be hard. And it would hurt like hell. He hugged Ben tighter, glad to have his new best friend so close by.
Over the next few days, Justin had all sorts of visitors. Debbie came by again, this time bearing a huge pan of lasagna and an oversized dish of tuna casserole for Brian. She kissed Justin on the cheek and gave him a hug that was much gentler than usual because if his bruised ribs. Then she patted his shoulder and asked him how he was doing. He wanted to glare at her and tell her he was bored of his mind just sitting there, but instead he said that he was feeling better.
Lindsay and Melanie came by to drop Gus off so that Justin could have some company while Brian was at work and they didn't have to pay for a babysitter because Justin always refused to take their money.
He and Gus spent the day watching TV, then they made cookies, and then they play Super Mario Brothers together until the Munchers came back and it was time to go home.
"I wanna stay with Jus!" Gus whined.
"I know, but it's time to go home, Sweetie." Lindsay cajoled.
"Please?"
"It's okay, Gus, I'll see you later, alright? Here, you can take the cookies home. Remember to share some with your sister." Gus smiled sweetly at him. Justin knew he wouldn't be sharing them unless forced; he knew what it was like to have a younger sister.
Daphne came by to check up on him, and they talked and joked about rib pain for a little while. Then they watched A Star Is Born, ignoring Brian's comments about their giggling and talking over the movie. She finally had to go back to her apartment, especially since she had class tomorrow with her evil bitch professor and she had to study. "It's all her fault," she joked with Justin. "If she hadn't made me stay here, I would have been in New York with you, instead of driving us home from dinner."
Emmett flounced in once to gush about the magazine article on Justin's show. They had a long conversation about colours, and Emmett told him about his latest party, a wealthy British couple who wanted an old fashioned, 1700's style party. He was renting horses and everything. Justin had a good fit of laughter at his description, waving away Emmett's profuse apologies about making him hurt his ribs.
Not only did people come see him and wish him well, but Brian hovered like crazy. Justin felt like he was living in his mother's house all over again. Brian wouldn't let him do anything remotely stressful or physical, kept asking him how he was everytime he winced from his ribs. It was annoying as shit. After three days, Justin was about ready to explode. He sat on the couch, sketching, as Brian made dinner (he wouldn't even let Justin cook).
He was working on drawing the curve between Brian's ass and his thigh when his hand began to shake a little. He stopped drawing and shook it out, but the pencil went flying from his fingers to the floor. Wincing and sucking in a breath, he leaned down to pick it up, Brian was there as soon as he heard the intake of breath, picking up the pencil and handing it to him. Justin rolled his eyes and took the pencil back.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Brian. Seriously." He glared down at his sketch, poising his pencil again.
"Really?" Justin shook his hand out, gritting his teeth. He looked up when Brian had not yet moved. "You sure?"
"Jesus Christ, Brian!" Brian stared at him. "It was just a little car crash! I've been in a whole lot fucking worse. I'm fine. Now can't you just leave me the hell alone?" Brian exploded.
"No, I can't, Justin! I fucking cant leave you alone! I can't stand to see you hurt. Every single time, I just can't do it. I've had to see it too many fucking times." He was leaning close, getting in Justin's face, anger, fear, pain, worry and a burning adoration warring behind his eyes. "And I can't do shit to help you. I mean, I try to give you one happy night, and I end up going to the goddamn hospital for hours every single night for a month! I throw you a party and you almost die on me again. Then I let you go to New York and your stupid hovel burns down. Then you get mugged. Now this? I can't fucking leave you alone, Justin. I can't stand it. Not if I have to see you hurt. Not if I have to worry that one day I'm going to get a call in the middle of the night telling me you're…."
He broke off, shaking his head, memories from the bashing, of the horrible cold fear in the pit of his stomach as he searched through a ruined Babylon, of the clench of worry when he got Justin's call from his studio about the fire, overflowing in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Jesus Christ, Brian." Justin's voice was soft. He reached out and took Brian's hand, pulling at him gently until he sat down on the couch beside him. Brian stared at him, eyes large and vulnerable, pain clearly evident in them. Justin ran his fingers through Brian's hair soothingly, pushing gently on the back of Brian's head until his face was in the crook of his neck.
"It's okay, Brian. I'm okay. I'm alive and okay." Justin murmured into Brian's ear. They sat like that for a long time, Justin stroking Brian's hair and whispering assurances that he was alive and Brian didn't have to worry. After a while, they realized that dinner was ruined. They didn't care; neither of them was very hungry any more. Instead, they headed for bed. Justin curled into Brian as soon as they were settled, allowing the older man to hold him tightly. They were silent, both lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Justin looked up.
"Brian?"
"Mmm?" was Brian's sleepy response.
"Did…did you say you were at the hospital every night?" He felt Brian tense beneath him, could practically hear the wheels in his lover's head working, trying to find something to say, but he seemed to think better of it, and Justin felt him relax. Brian's words were tentative, thrust out and sort of creaking, as if they'd been hidden away deep inside and unused for years, which was true.
"I had to come every night. I didn't protect you that night, but I could do it better after. And…I didn't want you to see me the way I was. I was…really fucked up."
"I know."
"So yes, I was there every night. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to hurt you by fucking it up. I was going to just leave after you got out, but you were a persistent little shit, and anyway, I didn't want to. I just…You scared me. Fuck."
Justin sat up and pressed his face close to Brian's. Brian nuzzled his cheek, eyes closed. Justin stroked Brian's face, Brian pushing into his palm like a horse, breath coming out in huffs.
He pressed his lips to Brian's, putting all his emotion into the simple kiss. He stayed where he was, breathing the breath that his lover exhaled.
"Brian, shit." He murmured against his lips. "Christ. You know what? I love you, Brian Kinney. God, I love you so fucking much."
Chapter 17