"Midnight Clear" 50 - Finale
On a midnight clear.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, December 2005
Brian warned everyone to step back and give them some space when he brought Justin home from the hospital. And everyone bowed to his wishes.
With one exception.
"I've got lasagna," stated Debbie, standing at the door of the loft and trying to get around Brian. She'd managed to wait one day, but that was her limit. "And some Italian bread. And a big bag of salad, too."
"And yesterday you brought over chicken parmesan," said Brian, an immovable object. "And the day before that some horrible tuna casserole that stunk up the place so badly I had to put it out in the alley. Even the stray cats wouldn't touch it."
"You love my tuna casserole!" Debbie insisted. She craned her neck, trying to catch sight of Justin.
"I don't think so." Brian began to shut the door.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Debbie huffed. "Aren't you even going to let me see Sunshine?"
"No," said Brian. Sometimes you had to be a hard ass. This was one of those times. "Maybe next week. But not now. Not yet."
Debbie pushed the food into Brian's arms. "You're an asshole, Brian! You know that?"
"So you've said," Brian agreed. "Many, many times."
Debbie turned and walked to the elevator. "I'm only trying to help."
Brian counted to ten. Then he counted to ten again. "I'll have him call you. Soon."
But Debbie wasn't about to give up yet. "What about tomorrow? You two could come over. We're having a New Year's Day party! Carl wants to watch all the football games on the big TV."
Wow, thought Brian, all the football games. On the big TV. "Maybe next week, Deb. And thanks for the lasagna. I appreciate it."
Debbie left, grumbling, but she left. And Brian locked the door behind her.
"I take it she brought more food?" When he heard the heavy door clang shut, Justin came down from the bedroom.
"She always brings more food." Brian set the pan of lasagna on the counter. "That's what Debbie does. She brings food."
"It smells good." Justin pulled the foil off the pan with his left hand. It was awkward not being able to use his right. "That hospital food was horrible."
"They do that on purpose to give you a reason to get better." He took out two plates. "Dig in. It's New Year's Eve. Time to celebrate."
Brian ran his hand over Justin's head, careful to avoid the bandage that still protected his wound. The stubbly hair felt like suede peppered with bristles. It was hot. Or it would have been hot if Brian could stop thinking about what it meant.
Justin nestled back against Brian as he dished out the lasagna. It felt good to be home. Good, but strange. It felt like he'd been away from the loft for a long time, instead of only a week. That was the weird thing. Time was all screwed up. Sometimes he couldn't remember what day it was or how long he'd been in the hospital, then other times he could remember things just fine. Or maybe he wasn't remembering right. Like that night... when he'd been attacked...
Justin put down the plate and pressed his left palm against his eyes.
"What's the matter?" Brian whispered. "I'm right here. It's okay."
"When it gets dark... I... I don't know what to do." Justin turned around and held tightly to Brian. He'd wanted the lights on last night. He'd felt like a fucking baby asking for it, but he couldn't sleep if it was too dark. If the shadows were too close to the bed.
"You don't have to do a thing," Brian breathed. "Not one fucking thing. It's just us here. No one else. No one can get in. We're safe."
"I know." Justin hated himself for being so afraid, so vulnerable. "It's nothing." He fumbled with the plate. "Goddamn fucking cast!"
"I've got it. Let's sit down." Brian carried the plates over to the living room and sat on the sofa, pulling Justin down beside him. "I'd open some champagne, but I forgot to go to the liquor store."
Justin took a bite of lasagna and grinned. "That's not the Brian Kinney I know and love. He'd never be without the correct booze for the occasion."
Brian got up and went to the fridge. Justin couldn't have any alcohol because of the drugs he was taking, but there were alternatives. "How about we toast with some lovely bottled water, direct from the sparkling springs outside of Pittsburgh?"
"Sounds great." Justin gazed at the little Christmas tree, its cheap strand of lights twinkling. "I can't believe you didn't toss my tree out the window. I was going to put it away before you got home from San Francisco. I know how much you hate that kind of shit."
"Oh, it's not so bad." Brian sank down on the sofa and handed Justin a bottle. "Cheers!" He took a long sip of his water. "A piquant bouquet, with a saucy hint of the Susquehanna in the undertone."
"What the hell does that mean?" Justin laughed.
"That means it tastes like I bought it from the Big Q -- which I did. But don't tell anyone what I'm reduced to," Brian replied.
"Your secret is safe with me." Justin leaned against his lover. "Brian? What about your new job? What about San Francisco?"
Brian shrugged. "It's not the right time for San Francisco. Or the right job. Something else will come along, eventually. Don't sweat it."
"But..."
Brian stopped Justin's words with a kiss. "I said not to sweat it. Now, I have a question for you." He reached over and picked up a small package that had been sitting under the little Christmas tree. "What's this?"
Justin's heart was pounding. "You said you didn't do Christmas presents, but I couldn't stop myself."
"It's not Christmas anymore. I guess I could open a non-Christmas present," Brian reasoned.
"You could," Justin agreed. "You could open it now. Before midnight. Before it's a new year."
Brian carefully peeled the green paper off the small, square box. It was plain white cardboard, with no hint of its origin. "Let me guess -- a gift card for Hoffmann's? Or Office Max?"
Justin shook his head. "Nope. No gift cards."
Brian eased off the top of the box. It was something shiny. Gold and silver. A bracelet. It looked like... "The one I bought you! In San Francisco! Where the fuck did you get this?" And how did you pay for it? Brian added silently.
"Kathy, one of the girls in my life drawing class, has a friend who makes jewelry. I showed him my bracelet." Justin touched the gold and silver links on his left wrist. He had to wear it on the other side since the cast covered his right wrist and his hand was also heavily wrapped. "It's not gold, it's copper, but the silver is real. I thought he did an amazing job copying it. I wanted to get you the exact same bracelet, so I called the jewelry store in San Francisco. But when they told me how much it cost, I knew I couldn't buy it and also get presents for my mom and Molly. So Kathy suggested her friend. He sketched my bracelet and made it from scratch. What do you think?"
Brian turned the bracelet over in his hand. "I think it's fucking incredible."
"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to," Justin offered. "I know you're not big on jewelry. But you said you used to wear a bracelet. And I thought it would be something special."
"Fucking incredible," Brian repeated.
"I know," said Justin. "It is pretty cool."
"No. I meant you." Brian held out his hand. "Do you think you can put it on me?"
"I think so." It took Justin a few tries to get the catch to hold, but he managed it with one hand. It was a perfect fit, clinging to Brian's right wrist like it had always been there. "It looks great."
Brian nodded. "Great."
They kissed, gently at first, but then with greater intensity. The day before, when Brian brought Justin home, they'd been too tired and nervous to fuck. Justin had gotten under the duvet and fallen into an exhausted sleep, relieved to be in his own bed at last. But now it was a relief of a different kind for both of them. They were together. Everything would be all right as long as that was true.
Brian led Justin up to the bedroom and undressed him slowly, kissing each section of pale skin as it was revealed. There were bruises still peppering his torso, and Brian kissed them lightly. He even kissed the cast that trapped his lover's arm.
Brian quickly took off his own clothes and then eased Justin down on the bed, pulling off his sweatpants and briefs. He kissed his thick cock, stroking it with one hand while he cradled his balls in the other.
"Okay?" Brian asked. "Is it okay?"
"Yes," Justin whispered. "Please."
Brian sucked Justin's cock, but it was more than that. Brian had been sucking cock since he was fourteen years old, but this wasn't only sex. This was something else. He'd had sex with thousands of men over the years, but he only thought he'd felt love a few times. Thought it, but been unsure. Now he was no longer unsure. He knew what he felt. Knew it because he'd almost lost it.
Justin gasped as he shot into Brian's mouth. He shuddered because it seemed so strong, so primeval. He didn't want anyone to touch him. Except Brian. He was the only one who knew how to banish the shadows. The only one who made Justin feel alive again, when he'd been so close to death.
Brian moved up next to Justin and held him. He wasn't going to lose this. He'd turned his back on so many things in his life. Family. Faith. Friends. The past. Sentiment. And love. Love was bullshit. Love was for the weak. For straights who packed it full of lies. It wasn't for him.
Except that was what he felt. Love. He couldn't deny it.
"Justin, you know how I feel about you. It's hard, but..."
"You don't have to say it, Brian. I already know."
"No," Brian insisted. "I need to say it. Because saying it makes it real. If anything had... had happened to you and I'd never said it, then I don't know what the fuck I would have done. My whole life would have been a farce. I always claim I'm honest. That I always tell the truth. Well, this is the truth. I love you. I fucking do."
Justin clung to Brian. Let the shadows come! They'd face them together! "And I love you so much! Sometimes I think I can't stand it."
"You'll have to try, because I'm here for the duration." Brian glanced at the clock glowing by the bed. "It's midnight. A new day and a new year. Will you let me kiss you? This year and next year and for as long as you can stand to be with me?"
"I will," said Justin. One thing was clear -- he felt as if he were wrapped in an angel's powerful and protective wings. A tall, beautiful, naked angel. Safe, finally. "Yes, I will. Always."
***
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, December 2005
Brian warned everyone to step back and give them some space when he brought Justin home from the hospital. And everyone bowed to his wishes.
With one exception.
"I've got lasagna," stated Debbie, standing at the door of the loft and trying to get around Brian. She'd managed to wait one day, but that was her limit. "And some Italian bread. And a big bag of salad, too."
"And yesterday you brought over chicken parmesan," said Brian, an immovable object. "And the day before that some horrible tuna casserole that stunk up the place so badly I had to put it out in the alley. Even the stray cats wouldn't touch it."
"You love my tuna casserole!" Debbie insisted. She craned her neck, trying to catch sight of Justin.
"I don't think so." Brian began to shut the door.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Debbie huffed. "Aren't you even going to let me see Sunshine?"
"No," said Brian. Sometimes you had to be a hard ass. This was one of those times. "Maybe next week. But not now. Not yet."
Debbie pushed the food into Brian's arms. "You're an asshole, Brian! You know that?"
"So you've said," Brian agreed. "Many, many times."
Debbie turned and walked to the elevator. "I'm only trying to help."
Brian counted to ten. Then he counted to ten again. "I'll have him call you. Soon."
But Debbie wasn't about to give up yet. "What about tomorrow? You two could come over. We're having a New Year's Day party! Carl wants to watch all the football games on the big TV."
Wow, thought Brian, all the football games. On the big TV. "Maybe next week, Deb. And thanks for the lasagna. I appreciate it."
Debbie left, grumbling, but she left. And Brian locked the door behind her.
"I take it she brought more food?" When he heard the heavy door clang shut, Justin came down from the bedroom.
"She always brings more food." Brian set the pan of lasagna on the counter. "That's what Debbie does. She brings food."
"It smells good." Justin pulled the foil off the pan with his left hand. It was awkward not being able to use his right. "That hospital food was horrible."
"They do that on purpose to give you a reason to get better." He took out two plates. "Dig in. It's New Year's Eve. Time to celebrate."
Brian ran his hand over Justin's head, careful to avoid the bandage that still protected his wound. The stubbly hair felt like suede peppered with bristles. It was hot. Or it would have been hot if Brian could stop thinking about what it meant.
Justin nestled back against Brian as he dished out the lasagna. It felt good to be home. Good, but strange. It felt like he'd been away from the loft for a long time, instead of only a week. That was the weird thing. Time was all screwed up. Sometimes he couldn't remember what day it was or how long he'd been in the hospital, then other times he could remember things just fine. Or maybe he wasn't remembering right. Like that night... when he'd been attacked...
Justin put down the plate and pressed his left palm against his eyes.
"What's the matter?" Brian whispered. "I'm right here. It's okay."
"When it gets dark... I... I don't know what to do." Justin turned around and held tightly to Brian. He'd wanted the lights on last night. He'd felt like a fucking baby asking for it, but he couldn't sleep if it was too dark. If the shadows were too close to the bed.
"You don't have to do a thing," Brian breathed. "Not one fucking thing. It's just us here. No one else. No one can get in. We're safe."
"I know." Justin hated himself for being so afraid, so vulnerable. "It's nothing." He fumbled with the plate. "Goddamn fucking cast!"
"I've got it. Let's sit down." Brian carried the plates over to the living room and sat on the sofa, pulling Justin down beside him. "I'd open some champagne, but I forgot to go to the liquor store."
Justin took a bite of lasagna and grinned. "That's not the Brian Kinney I know and love. He'd never be without the correct booze for the occasion."
Brian got up and went to the fridge. Justin couldn't have any alcohol because of the drugs he was taking, but there were alternatives. "How about we toast with some lovely bottled water, direct from the sparkling springs outside of Pittsburgh?"
"Sounds great." Justin gazed at the little Christmas tree, its cheap strand of lights twinkling. "I can't believe you didn't toss my tree out the window. I was going to put it away before you got home from San Francisco. I know how much you hate that kind of shit."
"Oh, it's not so bad." Brian sank down on the sofa and handed Justin a bottle. "Cheers!" He took a long sip of his water. "A piquant bouquet, with a saucy hint of the Susquehanna in the undertone."
"What the hell does that mean?" Justin laughed.
"That means it tastes like I bought it from the Big Q -- which I did. But don't tell anyone what I'm reduced to," Brian replied.
"Your secret is safe with me." Justin leaned against his lover. "Brian? What about your new job? What about San Francisco?"
Brian shrugged. "It's not the right time for San Francisco. Or the right job. Something else will come along, eventually. Don't sweat it."
"But..."
Brian stopped Justin's words with a kiss. "I said not to sweat it. Now, I have a question for you." He reached over and picked up a small package that had been sitting under the little Christmas tree. "What's this?"
Justin's heart was pounding. "You said you didn't do Christmas presents, but I couldn't stop myself."
"It's not Christmas anymore. I guess I could open a non-Christmas present," Brian reasoned.
"You could," Justin agreed. "You could open it now. Before midnight. Before it's a new year."
Brian carefully peeled the green paper off the small, square box. It was plain white cardboard, with no hint of its origin. "Let me guess -- a gift card for Hoffmann's? Or Office Max?"
Justin shook his head. "Nope. No gift cards."
Brian eased off the top of the box. It was something shiny. Gold and silver. A bracelet. It looked like... "The one I bought you! In San Francisco! Where the fuck did you get this?" And how did you pay for it? Brian added silently.
"Kathy, one of the girls in my life drawing class, has a friend who makes jewelry. I showed him my bracelet." Justin touched the gold and silver links on his left wrist. He had to wear it on the other side since the cast covered his right wrist and his hand was also heavily wrapped. "It's not gold, it's copper, but the silver is real. I thought he did an amazing job copying it. I wanted to get you the exact same bracelet, so I called the jewelry store in San Francisco. But when they told me how much it cost, I knew I couldn't buy it and also get presents for my mom and Molly. So Kathy suggested her friend. He sketched my bracelet and made it from scratch. What do you think?"
Brian turned the bracelet over in his hand. "I think it's fucking incredible."
"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to," Justin offered. "I know you're not big on jewelry. But you said you used to wear a bracelet. And I thought it would be something special."
"Fucking incredible," Brian repeated.
"I know," said Justin. "It is pretty cool."
"No. I meant you." Brian held out his hand. "Do you think you can put it on me?"
"I think so." It took Justin a few tries to get the catch to hold, but he managed it with one hand. It was a perfect fit, clinging to Brian's right wrist like it had always been there. "It looks great."
Brian nodded. "Great."
They kissed, gently at first, but then with greater intensity. The day before, when Brian brought Justin home, they'd been too tired and nervous to fuck. Justin had gotten under the duvet and fallen into an exhausted sleep, relieved to be in his own bed at last. But now it was a relief of a different kind for both of them. They were together. Everything would be all right as long as that was true.
Brian led Justin up to the bedroom and undressed him slowly, kissing each section of pale skin as it was revealed. There were bruises still peppering his torso, and Brian kissed them lightly. He even kissed the cast that trapped his lover's arm.
Brian quickly took off his own clothes and then eased Justin down on the bed, pulling off his sweatpants and briefs. He kissed his thick cock, stroking it with one hand while he cradled his balls in the other.
"Okay?" Brian asked. "Is it okay?"
"Yes," Justin whispered. "Please."
Brian sucked Justin's cock, but it was more than that. Brian had been sucking cock since he was fourteen years old, but this wasn't only sex. This was something else. He'd had sex with thousands of men over the years, but he only thought he'd felt love a few times. Thought it, but been unsure. Now he was no longer unsure. He knew what he felt. Knew it because he'd almost lost it.
Justin gasped as he shot into Brian's mouth. He shuddered because it seemed so strong, so primeval. He didn't want anyone to touch him. Except Brian. He was the only one who knew how to banish the shadows. The only one who made Justin feel alive again, when he'd been so close to death.
Brian moved up next to Justin and held him. He wasn't going to lose this. He'd turned his back on so many things in his life. Family. Faith. Friends. The past. Sentiment. And love. Love was bullshit. Love was for the weak. For straights who packed it full of lies. It wasn't for him.
Except that was what he felt. Love. He couldn't deny it.
"Justin, you know how I feel about you. It's hard, but..."
"You don't have to say it, Brian. I already know."
"No," Brian insisted. "I need to say it. Because saying it makes it real. If anything had... had happened to you and I'd never said it, then I don't know what the fuck I would have done. My whole life would have been a farce. I always claim I'm honest. That I always tell the truth. Well, this is the truth. I love you. I fucking do."
Justin clung to Brian. Let the shadows come! They'd face them together! "And I love you so much! Sometimes I think I can't stand it."
"You'll have to try, because I'm here for the duration." Brian glanced at the clock glowing by the bed. "It's midnight. A new day and a new year. Will you let me kiss you? This year and next year and for as long as you can stand to be with me?"
"I will," said Justin. One thing was clear -- he felt as if he were wrapped in an angel's powerful and protective wings. A tall, beautiful, naked angel. Safe, finally. "Yes, I will. Always."
***