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Allie
Disclaimer: All things QAF belong to CowLip. I take
liberties but they own them, I don’t.
Characters: All Queer As Folk characters
Pairing: Brian and Justin
Warning: Entire Thing will be NC-17. Spoilers for
like all Five Seasons.
XXIII - Unexpected
"Some things are so unexpected
that no one is prepared for them. "
~ Leo Rosten ~
June 28, 2019 4:45am
Justin's
POV
The faint light of pre-daybreak filters into the room, making
everything look washed out and grey. I turn my head and look over at Brian,
knowing in a few minutes the shrillness of the alarm will jar him from deep
sleep. My fingers itch to sketch him, as they always do when he's asleep. I
roll onto my side and tuck my hand under my head. My eyes trace the bridge of
his nose, his partially open lips, the edge of his jaw, down the smooth contours
of his neck to his sinewy shoulders. My eyes travel over his chest until his
body disappears under the covers. Sometimes, when I look at him, I can't believe
that I'm here, that we're here. I know how lucky we are to have each other.
There were so many times when I wondered if it would ever happen, if this would
ever happen. So many things came between us, so many times, that it was difficult
not to give up. I never did, and I don't think Brian did either. Sure, there
were times we may have wanted to, we may have needed to, but we didn't. When
I left that morning fourteen years ago, I thought, this is it. This is our breaking
point. If we can't survive this, then we'll never make it. I had mixed feelings
about moving to New York. Part of me was so fucking excited and
yet another part of me longed to just stay with him no matter what. Looking
back on it now, I realize that getting married might not have been the best
thing for us then. I can't even imagine it really, living in
***************************************
January 15, 2010 11:58pm
Justin's POV
I'm tired, I decide. Putting out my cigarette, I get out of
bed and look around my small bedroom. I've done what I needed to do. I've made
a name for myself in this city where everyone thinks they're someone, but they're
really just one small fish in an overflowing pond. I can paint anywhere I want
now. I can go home and still be a success, still get shows, still have a career.
Five years didn't bring me fame and fortune, but I'm comfortable. People know
who I am. They know my work. I can go back to
There is a soft knock at the door. Glancing over at the clock,
I furrow my brow. I toss the phone aside, put out my cigarette, and walk to
the door. I hope it's not my fucking neighbor Robby. He thinks that it's okay
to knock on my door any hour of the night just to hang out. Flinging open the
door I say, "Robby it's fucking midnight, what the hell do you-" The
words die in my throat as I look up and see Brian leaning casually against the
doorframe.
"Hello Sunshine." He smirks at me.
Without a moment's hesitation I throw myself into his arms
and kiss him. He tastes like cigarettes and bourbon. Sliding my arms around
his waist, I practically drag him into the apartment, pulling at his clothes,
wanting him now, needing him now. Right. Fucking. Now. He kicks the door shut
as he pulls my shirt over my head. We walk backwards and fall to the couch.
He kisses his way down my chest and back up to suck on my neck. My hands pull
at his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin. I murmur his name over
and over because I'd reached my breaking point and now he is here. I don't know
how he does it, how he knows, but he does, every single time.
Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, I dig my nails into his
skin and kiss him hard and hungry. It's a desperate sort of need. When we are
free of our clothes he flips me over, and I'm barely on my hands and knees when
he pushes into me. It's rough, it's hot, and it hurts like nothing else ever
can. I love it. Every fucking inch of his cock that splits me open, every hard
deep thrust into my tight hole. The lube of the condom does little to lubricate
me, but I don't care. I grunt and groan, meeting him thrust for thrust, demanding
that he fuck me harder and faster. His hand slides up my back and into my hair.
He grabs a chunk of it in his fist and yanks my head back so he can kiss and
bite my neck. He never stops moving, and I never stop wanting. It goes on and
on. I wonder where we found this restraint, this ability to make it last longer
than it should, but we have it, we use it, we fucking own it. His fingers dig
into my hips, his mouth ravages whatever skin it can reach, and when his other
hand takes hold of my cock, there is little I can do but hold on. He fucks me
with the grace of a panther and the force of a category five hurricane. My eyes
close tight when my body starts to tense up. He pounds into me harder and deeper,
as if he can't get enough. Finally my body gives out. The fuse that was lit
when I saw him standing in the doorway reaches the keg, there is a slight pause,
and then I fucking explode. Everything is bright white and burning hot. Brian
grips my hips with both of his hands and pushes in as far as he can go. I clench
tight around him until I can feel the beat of his heart though his cock. I clench
tighter and tighter until finally he lets go. We collapse on the couch, breathing
hard and sweating.
He pulls out more gently then he went in, tosses the condom…somewhere,
and rolls us over so that he's lying on his back and I'm lying on top of him.
I run my hand over his slick chest. "You're here."
His hand strokes my hair. "To stay."
I pull back from him until our eyes meet. "To stay?"
I push myself up and straddle his stomach. "You're…" I bite my lip,
trying to neither laugh nor cry. "Are you…" My hands are pressed flat
on his chest. He reaches up and pushes the hair back from my face before covering
my hands with his. He sticks his tongue into his cheek and grins up at me. I
lean forward, and in a move I learned from him, press our foreheads together.
"Tell me."
He slides his hands up my arm and around my shoulders, pressing
me down until I'm back lying on top of him. "I'm moving."
"Here?" I take a deep breath. "When?"
"Today." His voice catches in his throat like it
did when he first told me he loved me.
"To-" I pull back from him as I press my hands against
the sides of his face. "Today?" I whisper. "Right now?"
"Yes." I kiss him again, soft and slow, and then
I let go. Tears that I've been holding back for five years trickle down my face.
They aren't sad tears. They aren't happy tears. They're just tears. He's moving
to New York to be with me, so we can be together. I don't think
I've ever loved him more than I do at this moment.
*********************************************
June 28, 2019 5:00am
Justin's POV
The obscene shrill of the alarm clock jolts me from my memories.
Blindly, Brian reaches over and silences the alarm. He flops back down on his
back and exhales loudly. He slowly opens his eyes before rolling over and wrapping
around me like a warm blanket. Pulling his head back, he looks at me through
half closed eyes. "You're hard."
"You noticed." I couldn't help it really. That memory
is one of my favorites.
Gently, he pushes me onto my back, positions himself between
my legs, and pins my hands above my head. "And wet," he says as he
slides his stomach over my weeping cock. I inhale sharply, not realizing how
turned on I'd gotten. "What were you thinking about Sunshine?" Lacing
our fingers together he pushes our hands out to the side. He leans forward and
places a wet, opened mouth kiss on my neck.
Tilting my head back to give him better access, I moan, "You."
It comes out of nowhere, or maybe from that memory, but I suddenly have this
desperate, almost urgent need for him. "Brian."
He bites down hard on my neck and soothes it with a quick swipe
of his tongue. He slides forward, his stomach brushing over the head of my cock.
I need more. I want more. I lift my hips and grind my wet cock against his skin.
He pulls back and looks down at me, raising his eyebrow. "What do you want?"
His voice is low and raspy.
"Fuck me." I push myself up and nip at his arm because
it's the only thing I can reach.
He pushes me back down with his body. "I see."
"Do it." I tell him. I'll fucking beg if I have to.
He knows what I want. He knows how I want it. He's just fucking around. "Stop
fucking around and fuck me."
When he lets go of my hands, I grip his hair and yank him down
into a hot, hard, sloppy kiss. He lifts my legs and pushes them to his shoulders.
I'm not as flexible as I used to be, but at this moment I don't give a shit
how much it will hurt later. He pulls his mouth from mine and reaches for the
lube. I stop him. "Justin."
"Come on Brian." I rub my ass against his leaking
cock. My legs slide from his shoulders and around his back as I pull him to
me. I press my lips against his ear. "Do it. I want it." God, do I
want it.
He grabs my hands and presses them against the mattress. He
looks at me, right in the eyes, and then without warning or preparation he pushes
the head of his cock into my hole. I push back against him, trying to open myself
up to the intrusion. It burns. It fucking burns. I wrap my legs around him tighter
and try to pull him into me. Brian presses his body down on me, stays perfectly
still, and whispers, "Wait." I don't want to wait. I want it now,
just like this. I want to feel that burn. I want to feel split open. I want
that deep, dark, intensely pleasurable pain.
He pulls out of me and I growl. "No."
"I have to." He says reaching for the lube. He looks
down at me. "Just a little." I know he does. It's not only painful
for me, but for him too. It's not like we've never fucked without lube before,
but it does leave both of us pretty raw and sore.
"'K." I whisper.
When I drop my legs from around his waist he pushes himself
to his knees and lathers his cock with a thin layer of lube. Tossing the bottle
aside, he resumes his previous position and I re-wrap my legs around him. "Ready?"
He asks as he presses the head of his cock against my hole.
"Do it." He pushes in slowly. "No." I shake
my head and grip his forearms. I don't know why, but sometimes I just need it
hard and fast, and fucking wild. I need it right now and he knows it. It's turning
him on. It's making him harder. I grip him tightly with my legs and pull him
into me hard. I throw my head back and let out a sound that is something between
a moan and a scream.
Grabbing my wrists, he pins them above my head and finally,
finally, he does what I've been begging him to do for the last ten minutes.
He fucks me within an inch of my life.
******************************************
June 28, 2019 5:43am
Brian's POV
I look in the mirror to straighten out my tie, but my eyes
slide over to his reflected image. He's sprawled across the bed, naked, his
skin still red and damp from the shower. I don't know what's gotten into him
this morning, well besides me, but he's been insatiable since I woke up. Not
that I'm complaining, because it was fucking hot. He arches his back as he runs
his hand over his chest and down his body. Christ. I quickly glance at my watch.
Fuck. I look over at him in the mirror and he's stroking his cock. That…is fucking
hot.
"Brian." He moans. "I love watching you get
dressed." He gasps and throws his head back against the bed. "You're…so…anal."
My cock twitches as he strokes faster. "About…everything."
When his legs fall open, I walk back to the bed. He looks up
at me and grins mischievously. "You little shit." He knew I was watching.
He laughs as I grab him by the ankles and pull him to the edge of the bed. I
wrap my fingers around his arms and pull him up for a hard kiss. I flick my
tongue inside his mouth as I reach for his cock. I swipe the pad of my thumb
over the wet head. He moans into my mouth. When we break the kiss, he leans
his forehead against my stomach and watches as I jerk him off. His hands grip
my hips and I can feel his hot, rapid breath through the thin fabric of my shirt.
Clutching my hips, he moans my name. Leaning down I whisper in his ear, "Don't
come on my suit."
His laugh is throaty and soft. "I won't." He tilts
his head back and looks up at me. His eyes are deep blue and half closed. His
lips are wet, red, and swollen. He looks so fucking hot that it makes me want
to rip my clothes off, fuck him hard and fast, again, and call in sick to work.
When I still my hand around his cock he moans.
"Stand up."
He quirks his eyebrow. "On the bed?" When I nod he
laughs, but stands up nonetheless. I grab his hips and flick my tongue over
the head of his cock. "Shit." He wraps his fingers around my shoulders.
As I take the head of his cock in my mouth the tips of his fingers dig into
me hard. I tap my tongue against the sensitive spot where the head of his cock
meets the shaft. His fingers press into my shoulders as I suck hard on the head,
right before I take him all in my mouth. There is nothing, and there never will
be anything, that tastes as good as Justin. I guide his cock in and out of my
mouth with my hands on his hips, savoring the taste. "Brian." When
he says my name like that I know he's close. I redouble my efforts, wanting
nothing more than to bring him to the point where he loses himself. I lick,
suck, nip, and hum around his cock. I feel his body tense, his cock jerks, and
then the salty sweet flavor that is Justin fills my mouth. After I swallow,
I release his limp cock, and with my assistance, he slides back down to the
bed. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he makes a soft sound that I know is
complete contentment.
Idly, I run my fingers through his damp hair. "What's
gotten into you this morning?" He chuckles and so do I. "Besides me?"
He pulls back, resting his chin on my stomach, and looks up
at me, his eyes still shining with post-orgasmic bliss. "I was thinking
about that day…when you told me you were moving to New York."
"Ah." My mind automatically recalls the memory and
I smile down at him. "That was hot." My cock twitches just thinking
about it.
"Yeah." His voice takes on that "you know you
want to fuck me" tone.
His hands stroke my back and suddenly I wonder why he's naked
and I still have all my clothes on. Right…work. Cupping his face I lean over,
pushing him back slightly. "As much as I want to stay here and fuck you…again…"
He smiles up at me as he wraps his legs around my thighs. He presses his body
against me as his hand moves from my back toward my cock. Fuck. His fingers
lightly brush over my clothed hard-on. I clear my throat. "But I have to-"
He presses down on my cock and his eyes turn a darker shade
of blue. "Go to work." His voice is husky and soft. He licks his slightly
swollen lips as he unzips my fly. "Work is important."
Sliding his hand inside my pants he wraps his fingers around
my cock and swipes the pad of his thumb over the head. Shit. I push him back
and yank at my tie. "Fuck it."
Laughing, he reaches up for me. "No." Pulling me
down on top of him he whispers, "Fuck me."
************************************
June 28, 2019 6:08am
Gus' POV
I'm up on the roof for no other reason than not wanting to
hear Dad and Justin going at it like a couple of fucking teenagers. After almost
four weeks you'd think I'd be used to it…I'm not. Who the hell wants to hear
their parents fucking? Not me. I've not only heard it, but, Jesus, seen
it. I know they aren't used to anyone else being in the loft with them,
but it has been almost four weeks, you'd think they'd remember I'm
right down the fucking hall. I take a drag of my cigarette. Honestly, in all
my life I've never heard my Moms, never seen them, not once. I mean, I know
they…do it, but they just hide it better. Dad and Justin don't hide it at all.
I shake my head. They just aren't like that I guess, but it is disturbing to
wake up to Justin's half moaning screams as Dad does…I shake my head. I so don't
want to even think about it.
I look down to the street and watch the cars and people below.
It's funny that I can sit on this ledge, fourteen stories up, and not be afraid.
I'm afraid of a lot of shit, cars, driving at night, falling for someone who
isn't Ashley, but this, looking down and knowing I could fall to my death, isn't
even a blip on the radar. Taking a drag of my cigarette, I avert my eyes to
look out across the city. My mind wanders and my first thought is that my moms
and JR will be here later. I don't know if I'm exactly looking forward to it.
I'm not sure how I'll handle it, or what I'll even say. I can't help but wonder
if I'll revert back to pretending that I'm not totally fucked up. "No Mom,
Ma, see I'm perfectly fine." That's not true. It never was true…well, not
since the accident.
Flicking my cigarette, I watch it fall until it disappears
from my view. Grady told me it will be fine, seeing my moms, but he doesn't
get it, not really, and I didn't tell him. He's supposed to be at my studio
later today to just hang out. Part of me wants to feel weird about that, or
at least uncomfortable with it, but the truth is I don't. Up here, alone on
the roof, denial can be forgotten and I can be honest with myself. I like him.
I want him. I want to be around him, and I want him to be around me. I don't
want to want it, but I fucking do. It's not like there haven't been other guys
since Ash that have showed interest in me. There have been plenty of guys who
wanted me. None of them ever interested me, until Grady came along. When I moved
here I never expected that I'd meet someone. I never really believed there would
ever be anyone after Ash. Maybe that isn't a rational thought, but it's honestly
how I felt. I thought that I would spend the rest of my life longing for something,
someone that I just couldn't have, longing for a life that was just no longer
possible. It's as if somehow, when I wasn't looking or paying attention, Grady
snuck in some secret door that no one else even bothered to look for.
It's not just that he's hot, and god he fucking is, but he
actually seems to care. I mean, he asked about Ash for Christ sakes. Those other
guys, some of them knew Ash, but they never asked about him. It's not even other
guys; my family, my friends, no one asked me about Ash unless it was in relation
to the accident. I'd be lying if I said that didn't hurt a little. He may have…died,
but to me he's still there, still a part of me. Grady didn't want to know about
the accident. He wanted to know about Ash. I was surprised when he asked me,
more than surprised, shocked. He didn't push and when I talked he listened.
I can't deny how fucking good it felt to talk about Ash, to remember something
good that we shared. I smile. I liked remembering how we met and how we got
together. It was…easy to tell Grady about him and that kind of scares
me.
Just like kissing him scares me. It's not that it wasn't good,
because it was. It's that I liked it. I more than liked it. I wanted it and,
fuck it, I needed it. Since then it's practically all I've been thinking about.
Of course, the more I think about it the guiltier I feel. Is that rational?
Does it make sense? I know Ash wouldn't want me to become some hermit who swore
off the possibility of being with someone again just because he's…dead. I close
my eyes. I wouldn't want that for him either if things were reversed. Sighing,
I wrap my fingers around the ledge and lean back. For the last day and a half
I've been feeling all this different shit and I just don't know what to do with
it. I really don't know how to let go and how to hold on at the same time. It's
like this balancing act and my equilibrium is fucked.
I take a deep breath and open my eyes. The only thing I can
do is just take it one day at a time. Who knows what will happen? I don't. The
only thing I do know is that I like Grady and I love Ash. How do I deal with
that? How to I reconcile those feelings with all the other ones? It's not like
I ever expected someone like Grady to come along, but he has and maybe the truth
is I'm more scared of that than anything else.
*************************************
June 28, 2019 6:59am
Justin's POV
I pull up my jeans and look over at Brian. I wasn't lying before
when I said I love to watch him get dressed. It's almost as erotic to me as
watching him get undressed. It's the way he tugs at the cuffs of his shirt,
how his tie has to be just right, how if there is one tiny wrinkle he'll change
his shirt, or pants, or sometimes his entire suit. Reaching for a shirt, I pull
it over my head and glance back over at him. His eyes are on me and part of
me thinks that he likes to watch me get dressed too. I look over at the bed,
the duvet on the floor, the sheets twisted and half hanging off the mattress,
and all I want to do is drag him back over there and beg him to fuck me again.
Shaking my head, I turn my back on the bed. "What time
did Gus say Mel and
He laughs because he knows me that well, and he reaches for
his suit jacket. "They should be at the building around four."
"Mmm." I walk over to him, run my hands over his
shoulders, and straighten out his tie.
"Are you calling Amy today?"
Sighing, I look up at him. I've been avoiding it and he knows
it. We talked about it some more when we got home that night. What he said made
a lot of sense. Why is a place like Rauling's giving such short notice? Brian
didn't have an answer for that, but I had a guess. It only makes sense that
they had someone previously lined up, but that person dropped out, so they called
me. The more I think about it like that, the more it pisses me off. I'm not
some two-bit artist, and I'm no one's filler. Plus, it's a pretty well known
and established fact about what scale I work in. It's been years since anyone
has asked me to submit small scale pieces for a show, which means Rauling's
didn't do their homework, and asked for me blindly. Almost as if they picked
my name out of a hat. Well, fuck that. Like Brian reminded me, I'm not some
shitty starving artist. My pieces sell for thousands of dollars. I don't have
to bend for anyone, even if it is Rauling's.
"I'm calling Amy this afternoon."
"Do you think they'll work with you?"
I shrug. "If it's like I told you and I'm just a replacement,
probably not. I'm sure they can find another artist for that. If they are interested
in me and my work, then yeah, they might."
He cups my face between his hands. "And fuck 'em if they
don't."
Resting my hands on his hips I smile up at him. "Exactly."
"Now…" He pushes me back a little. "I have to
go."
I laugh and wrap my arms around his waist as I lean against
him. "Are you coming by the building when you get out of work?"
His left arm slides around me as his right hand combs through
the back of my hair. "Yeah. I thought we'd take them out to eat at Mona's."
"That's a good idea."
"I don't have bad ones."
I chuckle lightly, but then stop. "Do you think Gus is
going to be okay when they get here?"
He's quiet for a while so I pull back and look up at him. His
brow is furrowed and he's staring out the windows of our bedroom. "I don't
know." He finally admits. "He's been keeping a lot of shit from them."
He meets my eyes. "Still is." It's true. He didn't
tell them that he was tapering off his meds. Brian and I are sure he hasn't
told them about almost getting run down by a taxi, or that he remembered the
accident, or the fact that since he's been here, and probably even before then,
he's been a complete fucking emotional mess.
He brushes my hair back from my face. "Nothing we can
do. It's Gus' decision to tell them."
I hear the uncertainty in his voice, and it mirrors my own
when I say, "I know." The truth is we don't know. We've talked about
it plenty of times, but neither of us knows what to say or not to say to Mel
and
Leaning forward, he rests his forehead against mine. "Ibiza…last
chance."
I huff and push him back. "No. Now go to work." I
look over at the clock. "You're very late, Mr. Kinney."
His eyes darken at that and I grin up at him knowingly. "You're
an asshole." He grabs me and kisses me hard just to prove that he can be
an asshole too. When we part, lips wet and swollen, he whispers, "Later."
I move out of his arms. "Later." He smiles down at
me, kisses me again before grabbing his briefcase and heading out the door.
I look back over at our disheveled bed and sigh. Maybe Ibiza wasn't such a bad
idea after all.
*******************************************
June 28, 2019 1:29pm
Gus' POV
"Nervous?"
I glance over at Grady. He's sitting cross-legged on the couch,
his dark brown hair falling across his brow as he bends over the sketchpad in
his lap.
"No." I take a drag of my cigarette and turn my attention
back to the computer screen. "Why would you think that?"
I hear the soft tap, tap, tap of his pencil against the sketchpad.
"Well, it might have something to do with the fact that you've smoked a
pack of cigarettes in an hour."
"I have not."
I hear his sketchpad hit the floor. "Almost a whole pack
then."
I take a drag of my cigarette and put it out. "It doesn't
mean I'm nervous. It's just my moms."
"Gus."
I look over at him and sigh. Pushing the chair back, I stand
up and cross the room, flopping down next to him on the couch. "It's just-"
I sigh. "They just-" I close my eyes. "They don't-" Get
me. That's what I want to say. They don't get me. They don't get it. I love
my moms and they mean well, but since the accident they treat me like I shouldn't
be different. I am different. How could I not be? I know that somewhere in me
I'm still the same person I was before the accident, but I'm also all of this
now too, all this "after". I know they want me to be better. I'm fucking
trying, but like Justin said, it won't happen overnight. Opening my eyes, I
look over at Grady. "They just don't know…everything."
He smiles at me. "Parents rarely do."
I shake my head. "No, I don't mean it like that."
His brows furrow. "I mean-" Looking away from him I mumble, "They
don't know that I remember the accident."
"Rem- You didn't remember?"
"No, not until…" I glance back at him.
His eyes widen with sudden understanding. Looking away from
me, he runs a hand through his hair. "Jesus, no wonder-"
"Yeah." I look down at my hands, clutched in my lap.
"If I tell them they'll think…" I swallow hard and clutch my hands
so tightly together that they start to shake. "They'll think that it means
something more than it does."
"Like what? An instant cure?" He asks incredulously.
I can only nod. "Well with all due respect for your moms, that's kind of
fucked."
I shrug. "Maybe."
I look over at him. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are
on the floor. "Why do you they think remembering will help?" His eyes
meet mine.
I unclench my hands and rub them up and down my thighs. "For
months after the accident…after I woke up from the coma." His eyes widen.
Right, he didn't know about the coma. "They took me to see all kinds of
doctors, therapist, hypnotist…you name it, I saw them. They just kept hoping
that I would remember something, anything, and it would somehow unlock this
door that would…fix everything." I huff as lean back against the couch
and close my eyes. "That it would make everything better. Make me better."
"I don't…I don't understand."
No, he wouldn't. Opening my eyes, I roll my head and look at
Grady. I'm wonder how much right I have to tell him what I'm about to tell him.
"Do you know…about Justin?"
He shrugs and shakes his head. "Know what?"
"That he was bashed." His mouth drops open in shock.
"I'll take that as a no."
"He was…when?"
"A long time ago." I sigh. "The point is he
woke up from a coma, just like me, and he didn't remember anything about what
happened to him-" I close my eyes.
He reaches for my hand and our fingers lace together. "Just
like you." He says softly.
"My moms never really talked to me about it per se. I
didn't even know all the details until my dad told me last month. When it happened
to Justin, my dad did all this stuff to try to get him to remember." I
open my eyes and look at Grady. "It didn't work. Eventually he remembered
on his own."
"And it helped him." I nod. "So your moms think
that if you remember it will help you too?"
"I don't think they consciously think of it like that,
but yeah. I mean, they only mentioned the bashing to me, because it's just a
part of the family history. When my dad started telling me about it, like details,
all of the sudden it made sense, what my moms were doing."
His brows furrow. "Yeah, but just because that worked
for Justin, it doesn't mean it would work for you." The corner of my mouth
lifts up in a slight grin as I remember Justin saying something similar. "Did
it help?"
I shrug. "I don't know."
Tugging my hand, he pulls me to him. I lean against his warm
solid body and sigh. Suddenly, I feel really tired. "Are you going to tell
them?"
"No...yes…maybe…probably."
"Well…I think you should."
"Do you?"
"Maybe they won't react like you think."
"Yeah…maybe." Or maybe they react exactly how I think
they will. I can't help the knot that is forming in my stomach at the thought
of telling them. I don't want to see that glimmer of hope in Mom's eyes or that
look on Ma's face, thinking that somehow remembering that fucking night makes
me feel better. It fucking doesn't. It makes me feel like shit. It pisses me
off, it makes me fucking sad, it makes me miss Ash, it make me wish for things
long gone, it makes me-
"Hey." Grady wraps his arm around my shoulders and
pulls me against him. "It's going to be okay, Gus." I want to ask
how he knows that, but I don't. Instead, we move on the couch, him on his back
and me beside him, as if we've known each other for longer than three weeks.
"It will be fine." I can only hope he's right.
*******************************************
June 28, 2019 2:18pm
Justin's POV
I wipe the paint from my hands and look over the canvas. It's
not nearly done, but my hand is starting to ache and it's either keep going
and fuck it up or take a break. I toss the rag to the table, grab my cell, and
sit down on the couch. I guess I should call Amy. I've been putting it off.
If the circumstances around getting the offer for Rauling's are like I think,
then there really is no reason to delay this. I lean back against the couch
and dial Amy's cell.
"Darling, tell me the good news."
I laugh. Amy never answers the phone with hello or hey or hi,
it's always, "Darling, tell me the good news." My laugh turns into
a sigh. "Amy-"
"That doesn't sound like it will be good news."
"About Rauling's." I take a deep breath. "Unless
they can negotiate the date and the scale size…I'm going to have to turn them
down."
"Ne-Justin I already told you, Rauling's doesn't negotiate."
"I know what you told me, but I also know that there must
be a reason for the short notice they've given and why they've asked me for
small scale when it's a pretty well know fact that I no longer show small scale
work." She's silent for much to long. "So I'm right." I laugh
in spite of myself. "Jesus Amy, how could you even think I would say yes
to being a filler?"
"It's not like that." She says much too quickly.
"It's not?"
"It's Rauling's, Justin."
"I know that Amy." I push myself up from the couch.
"I know what it would mean for me." I pause mid-pace. "And for
you." Every artist's agent wants to say that they got their client a show
at Rauling's. I've been in the game too long not to know that. "I'd love
to do a show at Rauling's, but not like this."
"I'm sorry." Her voice is soft and full of remorse.
"Don't be. I understand. I wanted to say yes, believe
me; this is harder than I'm making it sound."
"They called out of the blue and I just went for it."
"Went for it?" I don't like how that sounds at all.
"I…"
"Amy, please tell me that you didn't." She's silent,
and the longer she's silent the more pissed off I get. "Amy." I try
to temper my anger. "Please, please tell me you didn't." More silence.
I clutch the phone so hard in my hand that it cramps into a claw and I hiss.
Quickly, I switch the phone to my left hand and shake out my right. Christ.
"Amy?"
"I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me you didn't tell Rauling's yes."
I shake my head and close my eyes. "You told them yes. You told them yes?
Jesus Christ Amy."
"Darling I know but-"
"I'm sorry. I…I can't talk to you right now." I open
my eyes. "Did Gavaiz give a date?"
"No…not yet." She sighs. "Justin, what do you
want me to do…about Rauling's?"
I almost laugh, and tell her, why are you asking me? "I'll
call you later."
I hang up the phone and toss it onto the couch. After all these
years, all this fucking time, she has to go and do something like this. And
for what? Because it's Rauling's. Because she's an agent. Because agent plus
artist plus Rauling's means big business. I can't fucking believe this shit.
I can't do the show. That's been thoroughly established. I massage the fingers
of my right hand with my left. Let's forget the fact that it's less then a month
from now, let's forget the fact that it's on the same day as the TK show, let's
forget the small scale bullshit, and go with permanent fucking injury.
The whole time I was trying to talk myself into doing the show, I knew it would
be impossible. Yes, I needed Brian to say it, because I needed to hear it, but
I knew it already. Deep down I knew I could push myself to complete the work,
but it would be the last fucking show I ever did. Fuck that. I sit down on the
couch and clutch my hair in my hands. I really can't believe Amy did this. She's
been my agent for fucking years, she knows everything. She knows what I'm capable
of these days and what I'm not.
Sighing, I reach for the phone, because right now I need Brian. I check the
time and thank whoever that he doesn't have a meeting right now. I quickly dial
his number and lean back against the couch. "Hey."
I huff. "I'm pissed." I can just see the eyebrow
creeping up on his forehead. "Amy already told Rauling's yes."
"What?" He pauses. "You're bullshitting me."
"I wish I was." I lay back on the couch. "It's
not like her to do something like this. She's been my agent for twelve years.
Twelve years, Brian."
"Wh- I- She-" He's so fucking pissed right now.
"It's not only wrong, it's unprofessional."
"Agreed." He grits out. "What did you tell her
to do, besides fuck off?"
I sigh. "I told her I'd call her later." He's silent.
"I'm not doing the show so stop thinking that right now." I close
my eyes. "If she told them yes, even if it was tentative, and now she tells
them no, it will look bad not only for her but for me as well."
"Justin…this is completely fucked."
"I know." I roll on my side and stretch out the fingers
of my right hand. This is not exactly the kind of break I needed to take. "I
can't believe she did this."
"Yeah, well, that makes two of us." He sighs. "Call
her back. See if she can still negotiate and if not…" I hear the shuffling
of paper. "This could fuck with your career, does she know that?"
I know he's not finished so I remain silent. "It's one thing to get an
offer from Rauling's and say no, or try to work a deal, it's another thing to
say yes and then back out. Fuck."
"Maybe we're overreacting." I don't think we are
but I can hear Brian's thoughts in my own head and words like lawsuit keep popping
up.
"We're not."
"Okay look…this is fucked…I'll call her back
and see if she can work a deal and if not…" I take a deep breath. "We'll
just go from there."
"Call me back."
I look at the clock. "You'll be in a meeting."
"Justin." I know that tone too well. That's the "just
do it, don't argue with me, I'm here for you" tone.
"Yeah, okay. I'll call."
He hangs up the phone without even saying good-bye. I don't
take it personally. He's pissed off. He's almost as protective of my career
as I am. He always has been. It's not even about money, for me it never was,
but I'm an artist, I want my work out there. I want people to see it. That's
what all artists want. I can paint a million pictures, but if no one will ever
see them but Brian and I, what's the fucking point? I roll onto my back and
call Amy, not that I want to right now, but I have to.
"Justin." She sighs my name.
"I just want to say…that what you did was extremely unprofessional,
and that after all these years I can't believe you would do something like this."
"I…don't have any excuses."
"Good, because I don't want any, Amy. What I want is for
you to call Rauling's and work your ass off setting up a deal with them. I want
you to push back the date and let them know, in no uncertain terms, the scale
they'll be getting. If you can't work a deal, if this shit blows up in both
of our faces…" I close my eyes and can hardly believe I'm about to say
this. "Then I'm going to have to…fire you."
She gasps. "Fi…Fire me?"
"Why did you do it Amy? It makes no sense, not to me,
not to Brian."
"Brian?" There is a slight shake in her voice. "I
thought you would say yes."
"No, you thought you could convince me to say yes. You
of all people should know that I'm no longer capable of producing that many
pieces in that short amount of time." I hated saying that. I hate admitting
that. "You of all people should know why I don't work in small scale anymore.
Rauling's is what every artist wants, but I don't want it for the price I'd
have to pay." I hate every word that's coming out of my mouth. Admitting
that I can no longer work like I used to, that with each year the breaks between
painting and not painting increase, hurts. It burns, it cuts, and I just fucking
hate it.
"I'll call them Justin. I'm…I really am sorry."
"Why did you do it?" I ask again when I realize she
didn't answer me.
She sighs. "The same reason why everyone does anything
in my business, the notoriety, the money, being able to say I got my client
a show at Rauling's."
I let the words sink in. I figured as much, but in a way I
feel used. In a way it makes me feel like I'm not worth anything, that I'm just
a…commodity. I take a deep breath. I am a commodity, but if there is one thing
I'll never be it's a fucking sell out. "Let me know what Rauling's tells
you and we'll go from there."
"I'll try to work a deal."
"For your sake and mine I hope you can make one."
I end the call and look at the clock. I know I should call
Brian, but I just need a fucking minute. I feel the anger boiling under my skin,
the anger of what Amy's done, the anger that I was fucking bashed, the uncontrolled
fucking rage that Chris fucking Hobbs is walking around in this world with nothing
more than a memory of what it feels like to suck on the cold metal of a gun.
I close my eyes for a brief moment and let myself pull the fucking trigger.
*************************************
June 28, 2019 3:39pm
Gus' POV
A loud bang from upstairs jars me from my sleep. "What
the fuck?" I mumble.
"He's been banging around up there for the last hour."
It takes me a minute to realize where I'm at. I push myself
up and look at Grady. "I fell asleep."
He grins at me. "You must have been tired."
Another bang comes from upstairs and instinctively I look up,
as if I've just gained the superpower of being able to see through the ceiling.
"Jesus, what the fuck is he doing up there?"
"Angry painting."
I look back down at Grady. "What the fuck is that?"
"Just what it sounds like. It's not pretty to watch, that's
for sure."
I shake my head and am about to get up to go see what the hell
Justin is doing when my studio door slams open and JR, with Jesus Christ bright
pink hair, comes charging in. "Gus where the hell are you?" She surveys
the room and finally turns to me. Fuck. I hurriedly push myself away from Grady
and stand up. "Who's he?" She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.
I'm about to answer when Mom and Ma walk into the studio. Fuck.
"Gus." Mom smiles and walks over to me, wrapping me in her arms. "How
are you sweetie?" She pulls back and looks down at Grady. Her smile falters.
"Hello."
Grady stands up and holds out his hand. "Grady O'Toole,
I'm a friend of Gus'."
Mom smiles and shakes his hand. "Lindsay." She turns
around. "That's Mel and the girl with pink hair is JR."
Another loud bang comes from upstairs and we all look up. "Justin's
up there?" Mom asks, looking back at me.
"Yeah. Grady said he's…" I look at Grady. "What
the fuck did you call it?"
He laughs. "Angry painting."
"Right." I look back at Mom. "Angry painting."
Her eyes fill with concern. "Is…that bad?"
She smiles at me and brushes my hair back from my face. "No
sweetie. Is your dad here?"
"Not yet. Um, maybe I should go get Justin." Right
now I'd say anything to escape this room, because suddenly it just feels like
too much at once. I can't even explain it. Maybe it's because I just woke up.
I look at the clock. Maybe it's because they're early. Another loud bang comes
from upstairs. Maybe it's because Justin's angry painting, whatever the fuck
that is. Or just maybe it's because Grady's here and my moms and sister are
here and maybe, just maybe, I'm not ready for that. "I'll be right back."
I start to walk out but JR stops me. "Hey, aren't you
even gonna tell me hello?"
I smile down at JR and tug affectionately at a stand of her
pink hair. "Nice color." I look over at Ma and see her scowling. When
I look back at JR she's trying not to laugh. I lean down and kiss her cheek
before whispering in her ear, "Keep the moms entertained for me."
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and keeps me in place.
"Only if you tell me who that hot guy is you were cuddled up with on the
couch."
I push her back gently and mouth, "I do not cuddle."
She rolls her eyes. "Whatever." Louder banging comes
from upstairs. "You better go see what that's all about."
Have I mentioned I fucking love my sister? I smile at her and
start to back out of the room. Just those few minutes with JR calmed me down.
Okay, this is good, not so bad. I can handle-I run into something warm and solid.
Turning around, I look up into the face of Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben? "Uncle
Ben."
"Hello Gus." He smiles at me and pushes his glasses
up his nose.
Uncle Mikey scoots out from behind him, his brown eyes shining
with mirth and a wide smile spread across his face. "Surprise."
Okay what the fuck is going on? I look at Ma, but she just
shrugs her shoulders. When I look over at Mom, she's blushing slightly and looking
guilty as hell. "Where the hell is my Grandson?"
Please, please tell me that isn't…"Grandma Deb."
She pushes her way around Uncle Mikey and Uncle Ben and grabs me in a death
grip.
After what feels like several minutes she finally lets me go.
She cups my face in her hands, small tears catching in the crinkles of her eyes.
"Baby, how are yo-" Another loud bang comes from upstairs. "Jesus
Christ what the hell is Sunshine doing up there?"
I'm going to freak out. What the fuck is everyone doing here?
Why is everyone here? I thought it was just going to be my Moms and JR. Please
god, do not let Uncle Emmett or Uncle Ted and Uncle Blake walk through the door.
Please, please. Okay Gus. It's fine. It's just the family. No big deal. Right.
I've gotta…"I'll be right back." I try to smile but I feel the tightness
in my chest. What the fuck? I push open the door and practically run down the
hall. I make it up to the first landing before I have to stop. I bend over and
grip my knees. Breathe Gus, fucking breathe. I close my eyes as I try to take
deep breaths. It's just my family. That's all. No reason to freak out. None.
"Hey." Shaking my head I stand up and push myself
against the wall. "Hey, it's just me." I open my eyes to see Grady,
his familiar golden eyes full of concern. I've never been so thankful to see
anyone in my life. I reach out for him and bring him to me. Without hesitation
he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, right there on the fucking stairs.
"Hey, it's okay."
I shake my head. "They…it was only supposed to be my moms
and my sister. That's practically my whole fucking family in there." Well
not really, but it's at least half of them.
"They're worried about you." He says softly. "They
all wanted to come after you, but your sister managed to hold them off and somehow
push me out the door at the same time."
I laugh and take a deep breath. I pull back from Grady, my
hands resting on his hips. "She had to push you out the door?"
"Well, she didn't have to push that hard."
"Mother fucker!" We both turn our heads when we hear
Justin shout.
"I think I need to call my dad. He's going to be…"
I shrug. "Pissed?"
Grady laughs. "You're not sure?"
Our eyes meet. "I'm not sure of anything right this second."
He places his hands on either side of my cheeks and softly
kisses my lips. "It's okay. You don't have to be."
Pressing our foreheads together, I take a deep breath. "My
cell phone is in my studio." Grady steps back, digs his cell out of his
pocket, and hands it to me. "Thanks." I take the cell phone and sit
down on the stairs. He sits beside me while I dial Dad's number.
"Who the fuck is this?" Wow, Dad sounds really pissed
off.
"Dad."
"Gus?" His voice softens immediately. "Where
are you?"
I take a deep breath. "I'm in the stairwell…using Grady's
phone."
"Grady?"
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Dad, listen. Justin's
upstairs angry painting or whateverthefuck. Mom, Ma, and JR are here. Oh and
Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Ben, and Grandma Deb." I say it all in practically
one breath. Grady rests his hand on my thigh and I automatically cover it with
mine.
"Fuck." I hear shuffling of papers. "I though
it was just going to be your moms and JR."
"So did I."
"And Justin's…fuck, he didn't call me back." He says
to himself. "Listen Gus, whatever you do, don't fucking go upstairs and
do not let anyone else go up there either."
A tight binding feeling settles across my chest. "Is…is
he alright?"
"No…well he's pissed off about something that happened
earlier." He sighs and I can't tell if he's frustrated, concerned, or just
pissed off in general. "Are you okay?"
"Not really. I didn't expect all of them to be here. I
kind of feel-"
"Ambushed?"
"Exactly."
"Is…Grady with you?"
I look over at him. "Yeah."
"Okay look, just stay where you are…if possible and I'll…I'll
fix everything when I get there."
I want to ask how, but I don't. Sometimes Dad thinks he can
fix everything…sometimes I'm amazed when he actually pulls it off. "Okay
Dad."
He doesn't say good-bye, just hangs up on me. I hand Grady
back his phone and clutch my hands together. "Are you okay?"
I shake my head and lean into him as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. "This…is so fucked."