Justin runs in for latte and gets a shot of something else
This could be the way they get back together if Justin is the aggressor (and
not Brian, as in “Wake.”)
Rated NC-17 (will be in part II rather)
Justin’s POV
A little song in this fic – a random radio listen inspired it.
Starbucks. It’ll be the death of me. I can’t afford groceries, but when I walk
by this god-forsaken place I can’t resist spending three bucks on a fucking
latte. It’s just so good. Before Brian I never drank coffee. Now I get a goddamned
headache if I don’t have a cup by noon.
I swing the double doors open and assess the line. Always there, always long.
Fuck. Whatever. It’s better than the headache...way better. I get in line behind
a gorgeous guy. They’re always at Starbucks...all of the beautiful men in Pittsburgh.
Maybe that’s why I come here too; a little morning eye candy.
The guy in front of me is particularly gorgeous, though. Tall, slim, beautiful
gray suit, tousled sandy brown hair that’s just a little long. It covers the
top of his ears and brushes his neck a little. Fucking beautiful. I can’t stop
staring, and something tells me he doesn’t care. Reminds me of someone I know,
or rather I used to know.
It’s so early. I yawn a little and think how crazy it is that all of these people
are awake and on their way to work. It’s just 7am! I’m usually sound asleep
at this hour, but not today. I have two projects to finish and need some serious
studio time. Ethan’s apartment is way too small to work in, and at this time
of year the open studios at PIFA fill up quickly during the day. So here I am
at the crack of dawn, waiting for my morning jolt of caffeine so I can get on
with my day.
Tapping my foot to the music pumping through the overhead speakers, I count
the people ahead of me in line. Seven. There are seven fucking people ahead
of me and one teenaged idiot running the register. God, I’m grumpy before I
have my coffee in the morning. I’m starting to fucking sound like Brian. Jesus…
I turn my attention back to Gorgeous (as I’m now calling him in my head) in
front of me. Great ass, I notice when he sinks his hands into his pockets and
his jacket spreads more tightly over his ass. I look at his cufflinks, his shoes,
the way he’s standing…gay…definitely gay. Straight men don’t coordinate that
well or have such good posture.
Then he glances over his shoulder, surely feeling my unabashed staring, and
our eyes meet. I start to look away, but the slight smile on his lips keeps
my eyes in place. He holds the glance for a second too long and I start to blush
a little. His smile grows a bit more before he turns to face forward. My dick
twitches under the placket of my jeans, putting a nice pressure there.
I start to think a little too hard about what I’d like to do to him in the men’s
room and I have to fold my hands in front of me to hide my growing erection.
There are still things about my youth that plague me. My ability to get hard
at the mere thought of sex is one of them. Of course, if Brian is any indicator,
age doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with that.
The song changes and I listen as Vertical Horizon fills the coffee-infused air.
Haven’t heard them in a while. I think I have this CD. Yeah, I do. I think I
liked it a couple years ago. I concentrate on the song to avoid an embarrassing
situation with Gorgeous.
You never could get it
Unless you were fed it
Now you're here and you don't know why
But under skinned knees
And the skid marks
Past the places where you used to learn
Wow, really good lyrics. And I like the singer's voice. It’s sexy. I listen
more intently to the lyrics and stare a little harder at the back of the beautiful
head in front of me. I can’t help myself.
He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why
Fuck me. I fucking hate when songs take me right to my knees. Make me want to
cry over Brian, over everything that did and didn't happen. Too much fucking
time has passed for me to still react like this. Everyone keeps saying that
time heals all wounds and I just need more time. How much more time? I am so
over this bullshit, I want to be over him.
The lyrics pulse through my brain, “he means nothing to you and you don’t know
why.” It’s exactly how I feel about Ethan. He’s great. He’s wonderful. He’s
fucking everything I thought I wanted and needed. And yet…he isn’t Brian. So,
he’s all wrong. I don't know how to fix that. I don’t know how to change that.
I can’t turn back the clocks. I can’t undo what I’ve done. I can’t ditch Ethan
because he’s perfect, but I’m in love with my ex. Everyone will think I’ve gone
insane. Not to mention Brian would never, ever take me back. Not after what
I did…
Fuck, I need that latte.
I try to stop listening and concentrate on Gorgeous in front of me. But, I fail
miserably.
You're waiting for someone
To put you together
You're waiting for someone
to push you away
There's always another
Wound to discover
There's always something
more you wish he'd say
Jesus, is this guy in my fucking head? This song could be about me and Brian
and Ethan. It’s so true. I left Brian for things he wouldn't say, things Ethan
would and did say. Things he still says every day. But, somehow it isn’t what I
need. Is it possible that I’ll never be happy? Is it possible that I totally
fucked my one chance at true love?
But you'll just sit tight
And watch it unwind
It's only what you're asking for
And you'll be just fine
With all of your time
It's only what you're waiting for
God. Is that how Brian felt? Did he know I was just waiting around for him to
do something? Waiting around for him to catch me and make me choose? Did he
know that I was just waiting for him to get pissed, beg me to stay, tell me to
stop fucking Ethan? All I wanted was a reaction, an emotion. Anything. I would
have taken anything.
I am everything you want
I am everything you need
I am everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He is. I can’t even deny that. Brian will always be everything I want. He’s all
I’ve ever needed and everything I wanted to be. When I met him, I knew. I
fucking knew before he even touched me. Three fucking years later, after a lot
of heartache and a broken relationship I still know. Brian’s it.
I say all the right things
At exactly the right time
But I mean nothing to you
And I don't know why
I hear the voice fade and the song change. It’s like Brian’s pushing me away
all over again. But the end of the song says that he means nothing to me.
That’s not true, he means everything to me. Even now, even still, even after
all of this. After months of not talking, after moving out to live with Ethan,
after changing my whole life to cut Brian out of it. Leaving my job, leaving my
home, leaving my friends – the people I considered family. After all that I’ve
been through, he’s still it. Brian’s all I’m ever going to want.
I find myself turning and leaving the line before my brain catches up with my
feet. I hit the street with a mission, coffee’s the last thing on my mind now.
Suddenly, someone grabs my elbow and spins me around. It’s Gorgeous.
My perplexed eyes and confused stare reveal all. He laughs a little at my
actions, “Everything okay, kid?”
I’m slightly irritated by his affectionate use of the term “kid,” but I can
tell he wants to fuck me, so I let it go.
“Fine, I just remembered I had to be somewhere.” I think I sound annoyed.
“Oh, too bad. I wanted to buy you a cup.” He shrugs over his shoulder at the
Starbucks sign. I’m suddenly flattered. If it hadn’t been for a 3-1/2 minute
song and some serious introspection about my life at 7 in the morning, I would
be thrilled that this guy was paying attention to me.
I blush a little, “Thanks, but…well, I’m taken. Or, I’m hoping to be.” I shake
my head, knowing I’m making little sense.
It’s his turn to look confused, but he musters a small smile, digs a card out
of the side of his briefcase and slips it into my palm, “Well, if things don’t
work out, give me a call. I’d love to have that cup of coffee sometime.”
Lightly, he places his hand on my shoulder as he finishes speaking. I look up
from Brian C. Grady’s business card and laugh. The irony of the name and the
physical likeness strikes me as hilarious in this bizarre moment.
He seems upset by my laughter so I quickly add, “Yeah, absolutely. Thanks for
this. You’re really hot, it’s just…well…if things were different.” He smiles at
my silly rambling and pats my shoulder again before turning back towards
Starbucks.
I start to tuck the card in my pocket but toss it on the sidewalk instead. I do
an about-face and head uptown to conduct business with a different Brian.
I stand facing his building, about to buzz up to the loft and announce my
arrival, when the door swings open and one of Brian’s neighbors walks out. It’s
Ms. Riddley. She lives two floors down from Brian. She was caught in the
elevator with us once when we were on our way home from Babylon. I’ll just say
we either gave her a fun show or we gave her nightmares. I’m going to guess the
former since she’s smiling brightly at me now.
“Justin! Haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” She holds the door and I
walk up to grab it.
“Yeah, I don’t live here anymore…uh, I’m good though. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine. So you finally got tired of Brian’s wicked ways, huh?” I roll my
eyes to myself at the thought of this strange woman thinking Brian’s a wicked
man when she hasn’t even gotten a glimpse of the tip of his iceberg. She’s had
a taste of a single fucking ice cube from the damn thing, that’s it.
I
shake my head vigorously as I speak, “Not at all, it was actually me who was in
the wrong…I mean it was all my fault…well most of it…I mean we had
problems…both of us…but I finished it in the end…though it was really an
accident and…”
“Justin, I believe Ms. Riddley would like to make it to work sometime today.”
My head jerks up toward the doorway and the sound of his voice – calm and
collected, smooth and suave - goes straight to my gut and makes my stomach flip
in a way it hasn’t in months. In a way that is reserved only for Brian.
She smiles nervously, realizing that she’s caught in a tense situation. She
doesn’t know the half of it.
She starts to speak but decides against it, smart woman. She just smiles and
quickly inches away from us, we hardly notice.
Brian walks out of the door and right up to me, “What do you want?”
Suddenly I’m at a loss for words. He’s close enough for me to smell his morning
shower, that amazing mix of his soap, his shampoo, his clean suit and his cologne.
The only better smell in the world is his skin just after sex, the smell that’s
just him…no store-bought add-ons…mixed with a little sweat and a little come.
It’s heaven. But this, this is enough to make me swoon.
“Well?” He’s annoyed. Probably really annoyed. He doesn’t reveal a thing. It’s
killing me already. His cold eyes and nonchalant stare. Like it doesn’t matter
at all that I’ve shown up on his doorstep at the crack of dawn after months of
not seeing him.
“I…I…” fuck, when did I start to stutter? “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m running late, early meeting. Talk while I walk to the jeep. Can I drop you
somewhere?” He starts to move away and I grab his wrist. He spins back, shocked
by the contact. He instantly pulls his arm out of my grip and shakes it a bit,
as if I’ve tainted him. I look up to meet his eyes and see the quickest flash
of something…was that pain? Anger? Resentment? Tell me he feels
something…anything at all.
I watch him take a moment, both to regain his composure and to take a small
step away from me. Seeing his physical reaction, his aversion to my touch is so
painful I could die. He shakes his head a little, “Stay away from me.” His
voice is low and deliberate. I wince as he says the words.
“Brian, please…” He starts to walk away, I’m losing my chance to do…well,
whatever the fuck I thought I was going to do when I got here.
I say it louder, “Brian, please…”
He’s still walking. Walking away from me. I bet he loves this. I bet he’s
waited for it. Well he wouldn’t chase me, but I’m fucking going to chase him.
I jog to catch up with him and start to step in stride next to him (hard to do
with my legs so much shorter, I’m practically speed-walking to keep up with his
long, relaxed gait.) “What?” he growls, but at least I know he’ll listen.
“I fucked up.”
“What, did you kill someone? Need me to help you bury the body? Friends do
that, not ex-lovers.”
Always witty and sarcastic, isn’t he?
“I really fucked up. Maybe this is irreparable in your eyes, but not in mine.
I’m not giving up on us. I tried something else, Brian. It was what I needed to
do and we both know it. You even pushed me to do it. Don’t think I haven’t
fucking overanalyzed every move we both made in those last few weeks, every
single fucking thing you did at the Rage party. We were both in too deep and I
needed to know the grass wasn’t greener on the other side of the fence. I took
a peek and it’s fucking brown and dead, Brian. There isn’t anything I want over
there. All I want is you.”
He stops walking. We’re in front of the jeep, but he makes no move to get in.
Instead he looks up at the sky, it’s a cloudy day. Very cloudy indeed.
He bites his lower lip as a minute passes, maybe two. “Brian?”
His eyes meet mine for the first time since my diatribe and I’d swear there
might be moisture there, just a little, not enough for a tear…but something.
“Justin, don’t fucking tell me how I feel or what I did. You know nothing about
what was going on in my head when you left. And you’ll never know because you
didn’t play that hand, you fucking folded. I stayed in the game, and you
didn’t. So you won’t ever see the cards I was holding.”
“You’re likening our relationship to a game of poker? How ironic is
that…considering…”
“Considering what?”
“Considering that I thought we were playing chess and that I was a pawn,
another piece to play with.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” His façade is still so calm and I’m trying
not to foam at the mouth, how typical.
“It’s not bullshit at all. You had no clue you’d fall for me and when you did,
the game became even more important. You relied on it to keep you safe, out of
harm’s way and when it didn’t work you had to get me out of your life.
Before…well before you fucking let me know you loved me, God forbid.”
“You
think I didn’t let you know I loved you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper
and his eyes harden as if he might hit me. My head rears back from the
implication of his words, that he loves me. Wait, loved me.
I can’t imagine what it took for him to say that, what it cost him. And yet…
“Did you?” My voice cracks when I let the weak reply spill from my lips. Even
as I say it I know I shouldn’t. Brian used the magic word and now I’m shitting
on him, implying he never loved me.
He shakes his head and looks down at his feet. “Why are you here, Justin?
There’s nothing left for you.”
Nothing left? But he loved me…loved me…loved me…loved me…past tense. Fuck, no.
It’s not to late. I won’t let it be.
He starts to walk toward the Jeep to get in. This is not at all how I expected
this to go.
My voice I stronger now, “Brian, wait.” He stops, but keeps his back to me.
Here goes nothing. It is so much easier to jump off the cliff when you’ve got
nothing to lose.
“I miss you. I miss waking up next to you and falling asleep listening to your
heartbeat. I miss the way you bitch about the way I make your coffee, even
though you secretly like it. I miss the way you hand me the Arts and Leisure
section of the paper and I don’t even have to ask. I miss the way you wash the
small of my back in the shower 'cause you know I love it. I miss the way you
lay out clothes for me when we’re going somewhere nice 'cause you’re better at
that stuff. I miss the way you pretend to want me to watch shit on the History
Channel just so I’ll lay on the couch with you. I miss cooking for you. I miss
watching you eat. I miss washing dishes with you and changing the sheets with
you. I miss telling you my nightmares when I wake up in a cold sweat. I miss
reaching for you in the middle of the night when I have a good dream with you
in it. I miss those fucking blue lights and your perfect hair and your
freakishly long toes. I miss the way you kiss and the way you smell and the
sound of your breathing. I can’t do it without you…life, I mean. I need you. So
yes, I love you…but it’s so much more than that. It’s just so much more…”
Ever so slowly, he turns to look at me. His brows are furrowed, his lips are
tight. My breath catches in my chest and I think I might be sick. What in the
hell possessed me to say all of that? What if he tells me to fuck off? What the
fuck will I do with myself then? I don’t know, but at least I tried. I told him
how I felt. Wait, how I feel…present tense.
Waiting for someone to respond after you’ve bared your soul to them has to be
the most agonizing span of time that ever did exist.
Finally he opens his mouth…
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