shadownyc won one of twistinside82's trivia challenge deals during the blogathon...as such she got to request the fic of her choice from me. The request entailed something happy, set in the future, including Gus.
******************
One Week
On the seventh day Brian catches sight of a sock at the bottom of a drawer he
obligatorily filled with t-shirts the morning after Justin left. He pulls it
up and examines the dark blue stripes at the top, the hole near the big toe.
His eyes get blurry when he puts the clean cotton to his nose and swears he
smells a scent that isn’t there. In these moments, he hates himself.
The next morning he stops at the coffee table to spin the small velvet box still
sitting there between a few cold fingers. He won’t let himself open it. He isn’t
sure how he’d react.
Justin’s called every day since he left. Brian can’t bring himself to answer
the phone yet. He saves all the messages and listens to them when he can’t sleep.
When Justin can’t figure out how else to communicate with Brian, he sends messages
through members of their created family.
“Justin wants you to remember to replace the batteries in the smoke alarm,”
Mikey laughs and pops the cap off a new beer. Brian beats Michael over the head
with a pillow off the couch he can no longer bear to sit on alone and barks,
“I took care of myself pretty fucking well before that little bastard came along.”
Michael smiles, “But not as good as he did.”
Brian sighs, no sense in denying the truth.
Debbie comes over with some casserole that smells like his childhood. Brian
huffs, but lets her in without protest. They eat it straight out of the dish
(without even getting high first) and Debbie says to him, “Sunshine says you
probably aren’t getting enough sleep…and you do look like fucking shit.”
Brian chucks a few sauce-soaked rigatoni noodles at her. She laughs, but he
doesn’t laugh with her.
Hunter even gets in on the action, shows up at Brian’s front door on a Wednesday
night with a joint behind his left ear and a six pack of canned beer.
“I don’t even want to know how you got that,” Brian rolls his eyes, but moves
so Hunter can come inside.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” Hunter smirks, lights the joint, takes a drag,
passes it to Brian.
They smoke and drink in silence. Just before Hunter falls asleep on the couch
he turns and says, “Justin said you need to relax. He says it’ll all be fine.”
He passes out before Brian has a chance to contest that.
**
One Month
Brian eventually does call Justin back, they talk late into the night and Brian
jerks off as Justin describes Central Park in the springtime. Leave it to him
to make leaves falling from trees erotic.
Brian wishes he felt better after they talked, but it just makes him want things
he can’t have. He knows he did the right thing, he even feels good about it
when Justin describes the way the Met smells and how quiet the Whitney is and
how amazed he is by how many galleries there are in his neighborhood alone.
He tries not to memorize the way 3am feels when he’s waiting for a phone call
that may or may not come, but he’s always been something of a masochist and
he’s amazed by how much silence can hurt. Brian knows he did the right thing
so he swallows the ache and prays it will dull in time.
One morning when he’s walking to the kitchen to make coffee he stops at the
ring box and stares for a minute. He picks it up and opens it up and laughs
out loud. Brian Kinney was never a stupid man, but he finds himself ridiculously
dense on occasion.
**
One Weekend
“Hey,” he says a little too loudly.
“Hey, Hi. How are you? What are you doing?” Justin always talks too fast when
he’s caught off guard.
”I’m calling you.” Brian smirks to himself, grabs his bag off the carousel.
“Well yeah, but I mean, I usually call you.”
“Well, I should change that.” Brian finds that truth tastes better than it ever
did before.
“Well,” Justin sounds flustered, brushes clink in paint cans. It’s a sound that
makes Brian’s heart do something strange in his chest.
“Where are you?” Brian hails a cab and slides inside.
“My apartment, where else would I be?” Brian laughs to himself, covers the mouth
piece of his phone, gives the driver cross streets he memorized a long time
ago.
Brian prided himself on not jumping on the first plane out of Pittsburgh the
day he realized what he needed to do. He’s all for a grand romantic gesture
(he’s getting good at them) but there were things he had to do first.
He picks the conversation back up a beat later, “Strolling the streets of New
York?”
“Nah, I’m working. Trying to get a good book together of new stuff, I told you
about the meeting with the gallery in SoHo next week, right?”
Brian smiles, he’s gotten used to feeling this proud, but sometimes the swell
in his chest still sneaks up on him, “Yeah, yeah you did.”
Justin sighs and Brian closes his eyes as the familiar sound washes over him.
“I wish you were here to help me pick pieces to show the guy.”
“Yeah?” Brian’s voice raises an octave. He knows the moment is quickly approaching.
He feels it in the tightness of his chest, the swirling in his gut, the sweat
forming on his palms.
“Yeah, you just…I don’t know, you see them the way I want you to. You get it.
You know? Shit, I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense. I miss you.”
And the moment arrives, “Yeah…well you won’t have to for long.”
”Wh-what?” Justin rarely stutters, Brian finds it incredibly endearing.
“I’ll be at your place in half an hour,” Brian can’t keep the excitement out
of his voice.
“You’ll what? Wait, what?”
“I’m in New York. On my way to your apartment.” Brian speaks slowly like Justin
is the kid in the corner eating paste.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” And then a dial tone.
A second later Brian’s phone rings, Justin's voice is erratic, “Sorry I dropped
the phone, nearly into a can of paint. I have to go. I have to clean. Fuck you
for not telling me. You and your romantic notions. Jesus Brian.” And then the
phone disconnects again.
Brian smiles through Brooklyn and over the Williamsburg Bridge and down Delancey
and through the Lower East Side. He even smiles as he ascends a staircase fit
for a crack house and knocks on a door that might fall of its hinges if he’s
not careful.
Justin answers the door covered in paint, cheeks flushed and half out of breath,
“Hi.”
The moment he smiles Brian knows he made the right decision.
**
One Year
“Oh. Jesus, wait, fuck,” Justin tries to roll over but Brian’s hands hold firm
on his hips. Brian loves the way Justin tastes in the morning. He loves the
way he’s warm and pliant and smells like dryer sheets. He loves how he mumbles
and doesn’t open his eyes. He loves how he clutches the pillow and hides his
face and acts embarrassed by how fast he gets off.
“God, god, god,” the words are muffled by the mountain of down Justin’s biting
into. Brian’s tongue is far enough up inside his ass to make him blush. And
he probably is, but more importantly he’s grinding into the sheets and hissing
Brian’s name and reacting in all the ways that make this Brian’s favorite way
to waste a Sunday morning.
After Justin comes he collapses into the mattress, burrowing further than he
already was, and laughs. He says he feels silly when Brian wakes him up in the
morning in a compromising position. Brian wonders if Justin knows how much that
particular laugh turns him on.
Brian slides his body to cover Justin’s and pulls the sheets up over them both.
It’s early spring but there’s still a chill in the air and the high ceilings
make the apartment hard to keep warm.
Brian’s dick rests against Justin’s upper thighs, he pushes a little and Justin
parts his legs just enough so that it slides between them. Justin sighs and
flexes his muscles to get a gasp out of Brian.
“Watch it little boy, you’re gonna get fucked before you’re ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready,” Justin still hasn’t opened his eyes.
“You’re not even awake,” Brian kisses Justin’s shoulder blades, licks a trail
down his spine.
“Uh, I just came harder than I have in a week. I’m awake.”
“A week? Fuck you. The other night at that party was fucking hot.” Brian sounds
genuinely offended, Justin laughs.
“It was hot. I just didn’t come as hard as I did just now. You know what happens
when you wake me up with your tongue in my ass.”
Brian smiles, he does know.
Brian reaches over and grabs a condom off the night stand.
“What are we doing today?” He sticks a lube-slicked finger inside of Justin.
Revels in the reaction it gets.
Justin starts to pant and roll his hips, “Fuck me now, ask questions later.”
Brian happily complies. He knows they’ll probably stay in bed a few more hours,
go to brunch at the new place over on Bleeker Justin’s been dying to try. And
he’ll probably get roped into a walk in the park since the weather’s changing
and Justin loves to watch the greens take over where the browns were as the
world comes alive for another season.
**
One Decade
”It’s been too long since we’ve seen them,” Brian hates the tone Justin’s using,
but he knows Justin’s right. He bites his lip and zips his bag.
“I know that,” he voice is quiet but firm. Justin catches his arm as he’s breezing
out of the room and spins him around so they're facing.
“Hey,” Justin rolls up on the balls of his feet, plants a soft kiss on Brian.
“Don’t take that the wrong way.”
Brian kisses him back, “I’m trying not to.” They smile at each other.
Justin lets go of his arm and zips up his own bag. He keeps talking, “It’s just
as much my fault. We’ve been traveling for me this year more than you. I feel
guilty. I’m taking it out on you.”
“Don’t,” Brian starts to leave the room again.
“I’m sorry,” Justin took it the wrong way.
“No, I mean don’t feel guilty. You take shit out on me all the time I’m used
to it.”
Justin tackles Brian, tosses him on the bed and opens his suit jacket so he
can slide his hands inside, “You’re gonna fuckin’ pay for that. I do not take
shit out on you!” His lips clamp to Brian’s neck and his hips grind down.
“I swear to God, if I show up at my son’s 15th birthday party with a hickey…”
Brian pushes Justin off, they laugh together.
Justin gives Gus a framed sketch of a captured moment a decade old. It’s Gus
in his father’s lap with both of his mothers sitting beside them, looking on
in awe. If Gus hadn’t been raised by two lesbians he might have let a few tears
slip, but as it is he learned to be pretty fucking tough a long time ago.
Instead he hugs Justin and whispers ‘thank you’ ten times. He asks when Justin
drew the picture and Justin quietly answers that it was the first time he and
Brian visited Gus in Toronto nearly ten years ago. After Brian moved to New
York permanently they used to drive up to see him nearly once a month.
Justin silently vows that he and Brian will never go this long without seeing
Gus again. Six weeks turned into six months and they were in Paris and it was
Justin’s fault even if Brian would never say so. Justin swallows his guilt and
smiles over the cake and insists they stay three more days than they’d originally
planned to. Toronto is beautiful this time of year, Brian doesn’t argue.
**
One Moment
“Hey,” Justin rolls over and leans up to try and focus on Brian’s face through
the dark. They each thought the other had fallen asleep.
“Yeah,” Brian blinks, tries to focus right back. Finally, the light coming in
through the window on the far wall becomes enough to illuminate Justin’s eyes.
“What made you decide to come,” Justin’s voice is quiet, unsure.
Brian waits a long moment, even considers feigning ignorance. But this conversation’s
been years in the making. And he doesn’t keep secrets from Justin anymore.
“I finally opened the ring box.”
Justin laughs, “I knew it.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“I don’t know…so…well…do you still have yours?” His voice is quiet again.
“Of course.” Brian doesn’t hesitate this time. "Do you still have yours?"
Justin smiles, "Of course." He'd known where it was every second of every day
for the last fifteen years. He continues, "So where is yours?"
“It’s here, in the safe.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
Justin moves, sits up a little, acts serious, “I was…I was just…well maybe we
could wear them.” Suddenly Justin sounds 17 again. It makes Brian’s stomach
flip-flop.
Brian sits up too, “Yeah. I…yeah. Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Justin lies down and Brian follows suit. A moment passes and Brian huffs a laugh,
“Did you just ask me to marry you?”
“I think so.”
”Just remember I asked you first.”
“Whatever,” Justin moves suddenly and is on top of Brian.
“And I bought those damn rings.”
“Whatever.”
They’re quiet for a moment, their mouths millimeters apart. Just before Justin
can kiss Brian, Brian whispers, “I waited a long time for that.”
Justin nods, but doesn’t apologize, Brian’s glad for it.
End
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