Erin
It's futuristic (near future I'd say), absolutely no spoilers, just a conversation
about life.
********
“What are we doing?” Justin stops chopping lettuce and looks up.
Brian doesn’t stop typing his oh-so-important memorandum, “Do you seriously
expect me to answer that?” Brian knows Justin well enough to understand how
loaded the question is.
Justin mulls that over, chops some more. “Yes, I do. We’re at the point you
should be able to have this kind of conversation with me.”
“Are we?” This time Brian does look up. He catches Justin’s eye, weighs how
serious the boy is. He decides he’d better save his work and turn off his computer.
He supposes this has been a long time coming.
Justin’s moved on to tomatoes by the time Brian walks up behind him in the kitchen.
Justin didn’t say another word; he knew the minute Brian looked at him that
he was going to give in.
Brian pushes himself up onto the counter top. Justin thinks he looks impossibly
sexy poised there in old jeans and an undershirt and a disinterested look.
“I’m waiting,” a smile tugs at the edges of Justin’s pretty mouth.
Brian sighs for good measure and says more than he probably has to Justin in
two weeks combined, “We have an existence. We have a mutually agreeable arrangement.
We have…a life together. A home. Someone there when we wake up. Is that what
you’re looking for?”
The hair on Justin’s neck stands up as Brian speaks, it does not go unnoticed.
Justin thinks over the answer and chops celery. He hates celery, Brian loves
it. There are concessions to be made when you share a life with someone. He’s
fishing for Brian to be romantic, pontificate on how wonderful their life is,
admit to more than he’s willing. They both know it, and so the game continues.
“I suppose,” Justin speaks carefully as he cleans the cutting board. He checks
the fish in the broiler and then moves to stand between Brian’s open thighs.
He places a hand on either leg and looks up, “I guess I want to hear that you’re
happy.”
“Are you?” Brian’s quick to respond.
“Of course, that’s why I’m asking. This is….” Justin looks around as if he’s
drinking in their life together, “better than I even imagined.”
“Is it?” Brian quirks his head to the side, he appears genuinely interested
in an answer.
Justin’s eyes narrow, “Absolutely. It’s been…easy and really nice.”
“And you’re okay with nice?” This is definitely more than Brian’s said to anyone,
save for Cynthia, in as long as he can remember. It occurs to him only now that
he really isn’t much of a talker, at all.
“I’m great with nice. Aren’t you?”
“I’m not saying I’m not fine with this, I’m just curious now if you are.” Brian
starts to slide forward to get off the countertop but Justin’s hands stop him.
Justin always liked a captive audience. Brian’s sometimes wondered if Justin
should have been an actor instead of an artist.
“Of course I am, why are you asking me that?”
“You’re the one who brought this up.”
“I’m just,” Justin watches Brian carefully. He can’t tell how their conversation
got headed this direction. He also can’t tell if Brian honestly thinks Justin
isn’t happy or if Brian knows Justin well enough to know this is exactly the
path that will throw Justin off course. He decides on the latter and forges
ahead.
“I am happy. I am deliriously happy. That is not in question. I need to know
if you are, that’s why I brought this up.”
“All this talking, it’s so…”
Justin interrupts, “When’s the last time we had sex?”
Brian’s eyes cut from the sink to Justin’s face instantly, “What?” He didn’t
see that coming, he’s losing his touch.
“Seriously…think about it.”
“Yesterday…day before?”
“Gross.”
“What?”
“You don’t know! It was Saturday. Four days ago.”
Brian sighs, “Are you seriously queening out over four days?”
Justin huffs, “Are you seriously not?”
“No, I’m not. We’ve been living together for...fuck, it feels like a lifetime.
For the most part I fuck your pert ass everyday. I’m fucking…you know what…I’m
old. I’m fucking old and tired and surviving cancer and a fucking father and
if I skip a few days…then jerk off in the shower. But don’t fucking question
our life together.” This has been the first solid thing in Brian’s life. He
counts on this like he’s never allowed himself to count on anything…ever. Not
even Justin’s allowed to question it.
Brian does jump down now; he crosses the room and heads to the bathroom. Justin
walks in while he’s peeing and leans against the sink.
“So…you’re not…” Justin stops.
“I’m not what? Tired of you? No. Tired of sex? Certainly not. Fucking around?
Rarely.”
Justin nods, Brian washes his hands.
As Brian passes Justin on his way out he leans to whisper, “I fucking love you
so much it gives me a headache and I’m so goddamned happy I don’t know what
to do with myself half the time so shut the fuck up and fix my dinner.”
Justin can’t wipe the smile from his face for the rest of the night.
End
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