FIC: Indebted (QaF, Brian/Justin, series) Chapter Twelve: Where It Takes You
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Title: Indebted
Chapter: Twelve - Where It Takes You
Sequel/Series: series
Author: freakykat
Time Frame: Takes place during 3rd season starting after 3.04 - AU timelime
Summary: Justin and Brian find their lives intertwine no matter what they do.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: I know this took forever. Hope it's worth it. Feedback loved and appreciated but not required. Beta by the awesome wouldbedorothy! Thank you, darling!
Disclaimer: I own none of this. I has no money. Please don't sue.
All previous Indebted chapters
Indebted
Chapter Twelve: Where It Takes You
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me, you asshole?”
Vic gave a soft grunt when Debbie’s arms wrapped around him and squeezed, her warmth making him smile. She was always that way. Giving, even when you didn’t ask or want it. He gave her credit. In the end, it was what you needed.
“Hey, sis.”
He set down his bag, returning the affectionate hug and pulling back when her hand smacked him sharply on the shoulder.
“Don’t ‘Hey, sis’ me, Vic. Why didn’t we hear from you?”
Vic rolled his eyes, grinning at Michael as he walked out of the kitchen, opening his arms and holding him just a second longer than necessary. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Michael was healthy, despite all the risk there was. He took a step back and turned, saying, “I called when I got there.”
“Yeah, Ma. I’m sure Vic and Rodney were busy,” Michael said, grinning at his uncle and wiggling his eyebrows.
Vic smiled without comment.
“Well, he could have taken a minute from fucking to call his sister and tell her he was doing fine.” She smoothed hands over Vic’s shoulder’s, sighing, “I just worry.”
“I’m fine, sis.” He twirled to give her a full view. “See, all parts still here.” He fought back a yawn, waving Debbie away when she gave him a concerned look. “The plane ride was long.”
“Florida isn’t that far away.”
Vic shrugged, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “It was a long week.” He laughed when Michael wiggled his eyebrows again. “I think I’ll go up and get some rest.”
“I’d think you were rested out.” Debbie grinned at him and Vic rolled his eyes, heading up the stairs and into his room.
He dropped his bag on the floor, pressing his ear to the door for a moment, making sure Debbie hadn’t followed to tell him something. She was known to burst into his room without knocking. With that thought, he locked the door, pulling out his cell phone, hitting the numbers quickly.
“This is Brian Kinney. Leave a message.”
“Brian, it’s Vic. I wanted to check, make sure you got home, okay. Don’t roll your eyes, you little shit. You were practically unconscious when we got in. I’m not going to bother asking you to call back, ‘cause you’re Brian fucking Kinney. You can do this on your own. I’m just giving you fair warning that if I don’t get some sign that you’re alive in the next forty-eight hours, I will forego my promise to keep it quiet and tell Michael. Or better yet Debbie. You got forty-eight hours, my friend.” Vic grinned at the image of Brian’s face as he heard the message, paused and finished with, “Call me if you need something.”
Pressing the end call button, he set it down and sat on the bed slowly. He was exhausted, and Brian’s radiation started in a few days. He’d have to come up with excuses for when he was gone during those times. Vic fell back onto the pillow, sighing, the weight of the situation starting to feel heavy.
Brian needed someone.
Vic would have to do.
At least until he figured out a way to get the person Brian really needed and wanted to be there for him.
***
“So.”
“So?”
“How’d… how are you?”
Brian rubbed the throbbing ache in his brow, sitting into his desk chair slowly. It hurt to move. It hurt everywhere, even places Brian hadn’t realized existing on his fucking body. All he wanted was to crawl under the covers and forget anyone outside existed. He wanted to sleep. Fall into a black hole where he couldn’t feel a damn thing.
“I’m fucking fabulous, Cynthia. Thanks for asking.”
The pause was pregnant with things he knew she wanted to say but would never.
“Fine. Well, there’ve been a few developments while you were gone. One just this morning. Apparently, our wonderful Chief has pissed off some people.”
“No shit.”
“He shut down two gay bars for having charity events. Not to mention the scores of gay websites and clubs that have been closed.”
He closed his eyes. What the fuck was that motherfucker doing? “And there’s been backlash, so he’s mad.”
“Rallies, petitions, some pretty good protests led by Debbie. The one in front of police headquarters is becoming legend.” There was pride in Cynthia’s voice. Brian’s worst fear in life (well, next to dying from fucking cancer now) was for Debbie and Cynthia to join forces. They’d take over the world.
It wouldn’t end well for him.
“He was pretty upset when he found out you were on vacation and that I was handling it until you got back. He wants to talk about what his reaction should be.”
“Right.”
“What should I tell him?”
“To get his homophobic ass fucked. It might enlighten him.”
Cynthia laughed, and Brian’s lips tugged upward slightly when she said, “That must have felt damn good.”
“Been swallowing it for a while, yeah.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, rolling his neck as he said, “Set up a meeting for lunch tomorrow. I’ll get some things together by then.”
“Is that -- I mean --”
“Cynthia. I’m fucking fine. Just set it up.”
“Okay.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, he wasn’t sure what, but she cut him off.
“Brian, I don’t know why you want this so badly. I know you well enough to know that you hate Stockwell. Is it really worth it?”
And there it was. The reason why he’d hired her. Why she’d managed to get past his shit and still work for him. She got right to the point. No bullshit. Like him. There was no way she’d missed his reactions to Stockwell, physical and otherwise. He hated everything about the man. He’d never admit how much energy it was taking to keep going. Energy he didn’t have to spare.
But he could never say any of that.
When he didn’t answer, she sighed and said, “I’ll call you in the morning with the place and time. Get some rest. And Brian… I’m glad you’re fucking fine.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. And I meant to tell you. I got you some help.”
“Help?”
“Well, I can’t be at your beck and call while I handle all your other clients, so I got you a second assistant. Someone that can work from your loft while… well, someone that can work from there. New intern… damn good one, too.”
Brian blinked, glancing around his loft, realizing that this was the only place he’d really be for months. It was a depressing thought. And normally, the thought of some overly caffeinated, too helpful intern made him want to slit his wrists, but under these circumstances…
“Is he hot?”
“Oh, yes. I think he’s your type.”
“They’re all my type, Cynthia.”
“Exactly.”
The line went dead and Brian shook his head, smiling slightly, wondering what exactly he had done to be cursed with Cynthia.
Just so he made sure he kept doing it.
He stood shakily, gripping onto solid surfaces until he reached his bedroom, and then he let go, falling forward on the bed, letting the darkness take him.
***
“We need to help Teddy.”
Mel glanced over at Lindsay, her eyes shining with the same thoughts as she was sure hers had. No one could help Ted unless he wanted it.
“I’m more worried about you, Emmett.”
“I’ll be fine when he is.”
Mel shook her head. “I’m not sure it’ll be that easy, Em.”
Lindsay sat down, one hand rubbing over Emmett’s shoulder’s. “It’ll be okay, honey.” She glanced at Mel, nodding to the other room, and they quietly left Emmett for a moment.
“Maybe we can do something more.”
Mel took a deep breath, turning to Lindsay and shaking her head. “Sweetie…”
“I know that Ted is the one that needs to fix this, but we can try to get through to him.”
“We’ve all tried, Lindz. He doesn’t want to get better. Not yet.”
“We haven’t all tried.”
“No.”
Lindsay raised her eyebrows at her. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I was asking permission.”
Mel rubbed her stomach gently, taking a moment to calm her nerves down, and faced her wife. “Brian cannot help Ted right now.”
“Mel, what the hell is going on? Every time we mention Brian…”
“Lindz. Please. Just trust me. Brian can’t help. Besides, he isn’t even here.” Mel felt the lie slip past her lips. It was becoming easier every time to keep this secret. She thought of the text she’d received late the night before. Vic and Brian had gotten back. Brian had asked that she not tell anyone just yet. He wanted some time alone.
Lindsay searched Mel’s face and she tried her best not to give anything away. “Whatever is going on, Mel, you need to tell me.”
She should have known she couldn’t keep this from Lindsay. “I have nothing to tell, Lindz.” This wasn’t her secret, and even if she could have told Lindsay what she wanted, Brian was still her client. That was a confidence she wasn’t willing to compromise.
“Okay. I’m letting it go for now because we have a friend in need in the other room. But I’m not forgetting this. I want to know, Mel.”
She watched her walk way, dragging one hand through her hair.
Brian needed to come clean and soon. Because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep Lindsay or anyone else from learning the truth.
***
He crawled out of bed before the sun had even come up fully. Sweat-drenched and aching, Brian eyed the distance from where he sat to where the bathroom was. It took him half an hour to find the energy to walk it. Then, another hour to shower and do all those things he always took for granted in the mornings. Except for the one thing he enjoyed the most.
His morning blow job had been relegated to jerking off for the most part in recent weeks since he’d found out he was sick. And now… there was nothing.
One fucking ball and a useless cock.
His chest constricted with what that could mean. He was Brian fucking Kinney. If he couldn’t… if he’d lost the ability to fuck… he’d lost himself. It was what he hid behind. That wall he’d constructed, and without it… he was vulnerable.
Something told him that would be harder than the surgery, the chemo, and the radiation combined.
He walked with care to the kitchen, opening the fridge and blinking rapidly a few times when he did. It was overflowing with food, containers, drinks… more than he’d ever seen inside it. Things he knew he needed to eat to get him through. He had a list in his briefcase with instructions on his diet.
He knew Vic couldn’t have done that so that left…
Mel.
He pushed away any feelings about it. He and Mel… whatever understanding they had would vanish when he was better. That was their way. They formed truces during crisis mode and forgot it all when the time was over.
Reaching inside, he pulled out his guava juice, and closing the door, reached into the bowl on top of the fridge for an apple. His stomach revolted at the thought of any real food. No diner for him in the immediate future.
That thought led to Debbie and Michael.
He knew he should call. Let Michael know he was okay. But he knew the minute Michael found out he was back, he’d be at his door.
Brian couldn’t take that. Not right now.
“You know you’re going to have to tell them eventually.”
Brian opened one eye, head falling to the right, and stared at Vic. “Why? I haven’t yet. I don’t plan to.”
Vic sighed, flipping the page in his magazine over and not looking at him. “There was no surgery before, Brian.”
“Well, radiation wasn’t a fucking walk in the park, Vic.”
“I know that, you asshole. So imagine the combination of radiation and chemo and a recent surgery. No matter how you try to hide it, one of them will figure it out.”
Brian closed his eye, breathing in and ignoring the pang it sent through him. He hurt everywhere. He didn’t want to worry about who would be angry. “I just need to get through this round, Vic. Fuck all what anyone else will think.” He was shivering, pulling his jacket tighter around him. Moments later, he felt warmth and slit his eyes open to watch Vic cover him with a blanket. He bit the inside of his mouth and mumbled a quick, “Thank you.”
Vic nodded, turning back to his magazine. They sat in silence for a long while and Brian drifted in and out, the plane’s slight movements soothing him.
“Okay. I’ll make you a deal. You don’t have to tell them right away. If you let me come with you to treatments. Then, once this round is over, you tell them. Deal?”
Brian swallowed down the relief he’d felt at not having to do this alone. He never needed anyone, but…
He pulled one hand out from under the blanket and reached for Vic’s hand, shaking it. “Deal.”
The steady pounding at the door brought him out of his thoughts and Brian scowled at it. He wasn’t sure who was on the other end. Vic had called earlier and left a message to call him back. Mel had emailed him with updates on what had happened while he was gone. So whoever was on the other side wasn’t someone he’d want to deal with.
He remembered Cynthia mentioning the new intern she’d hired to help him and that he had a meeting for lunch. He glanced at the clock. It was nine a.m.
Right on time.
Good.
He glanced into the mirror, balking when he saw pale skin and dark circles. He ran a hand through his hair and straightened the shirt he’d thrown on. Rubbing his hands on his jeans, he stood cautiously, his stomach rolling and protesting his breakfast.
What the fuck. It had been fruit.
The pounding started again and he glared at the door. Better get it over with. He had work to do.
Sighing, he moved to the door, taking a moment before pulling it open.
Freezing when he was met with familiar eyes and a smile that only belonged to one person.
“Justin.”
“Good morning, Brian. I’m here to work. Where do you want me?”
Chapter Thirteen