Happy Birthday
Title: Happy Birthday
Author:
jojothecr
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Characters: Brian & Justin
Summary: Post S5
Brian had locked the door, hoping that it wouldn't take long and he'd be back. He'd be back home finally alone and able to drown in his depression, like he'd been planning for the whole morning and all the previous years. He was used to hating his birthdays...
Beta:
positive_pat
Disclaimer: Not mine
Author's Note: It took me a few months to finish this damned fic and although I'm not sure it's exactly the way I wanted it to be, it's done and here it is...
Happy Birthday
Brian closes the door with a sigh and throws his black jacket over the nearest chair in the kitchen. He walks over to find a big green apple and a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. Sinking his teeth into the juicy fruit and closing the fridge again, his eyes linger upon the photo clasped to the door and he smiles at the memory - laughing Michael with his arms around Brian’s shoulders, one of the first nights at Babylon. It’s probably twenty years now, but many things remain the same. Especially some things about Michael…
~ ° ~
Yawning, Brian opened his eyes with a startle and reached for the ringing and vibrating cell phone before it could knock itself off the nightstand.
“Happy Birthday,” Michael yelled at the other end of the line and Brian winced, pulling the cell from his ear.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, wondering how Michael happened to be so full of energy at… whatever time they had in Tibet.
“Are you dying over there?”
“I might be,” Brian replied, unsuccessfully hiding another yawn.
“Oh no, you’re not. Not yet. How are you?”
“Fabulous,” Brian smirked. Michael immediately recognized the tone, the pretending. “Dazzling!” Every time Brian had used these words, Michael had known that something was up and whatever it was, Brian wouldn’t say.
“Yeah, I can hear that,” he sighed. “How are you going to celebrate?”
“Celebrate what?”
“Your birthday, asshole!” Michael answered and Brian could nearly see Michael’s eyes rolling in his head dramatically.
“Why would I do that?” Brian asked, nearly falling of the bed when he reached to pick the cigarettes and lighter from the floor.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Michael marveled. “You’re not going to work, are you?”
Brian took a long drag of the cigarette and then breathed it out, watching the gray cloud dying slowly in the air.
“I couldn’t hear you.” Michael complained and Brian rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I noticed. Have you talked with Justin?”
Brian nearly coughed at the next drag. Michael’s care in this way was nearly annoying, because he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what Brian felt. He never got to see what Brian have seen in Justin that had made him practically change his entire life.
He had talked on the phone with Justin the other night, which now in the morning seemed like a whole eternity ago. They’d been spending hours on the phone nearly every night, but hearing his voice wasn’t the same as holding him, kissing him. Falling asleep to the sound of his breathing wasn’t the same as falling asleep embraced with his warmth and breathing in the smell of his skin or the shampoo from his hair. When Justin was leaving two years ago, Brian wasn’t able to imagine how much he’d really miss him.
“Yeah.” He said finally.
“Today?”
“Today? It’s half past seven. Why would he be up so soon?” Brian wondered, remembering how Justin had been always complained when he had to get up early.
“You are,” Michael pointed out and Brian chose to not mention that only because of him.
“So are you.”
“You are really funny in the morning.”
“I always am,” Brian smirked. “How’s Tibet? But, please, the short version.”
“Oh, it’s wonderful. I can’t even tell you. It’s simply am-“ Michael’s voice had got lost in a double giggle and choked gasp for breath and Brian sighed, shaking his head.
“Amazing.” Michael had found his voice again. “Ben says hi and happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Brian smiled sincerely. “Thanks for calling, Mikey.”
“Anytime, enjoy yourself. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Brian murmured, tossing the silent cell to the empty side of their bed.
He turned onto his side, looking at the morning sun, which, peeking from the snowy white cloud, seemed to be as lazy as him and closed his eyes with a growl.
~ ° ~
Sipping on the black coffee, Brian sits on the kitchen counter and watches the day fading behind the window. The sky seems like it is in flames, flashing shadows of red upon the sleeping flowers in their garden. The soft evening wind is playing with the colorful ribbons on the wooden swing he has built with Justin some time ago for Gus.
It’s a place where Justin spends nearly every morning when he’s at home, enjoying the silence he can’t find in New York. He never minds when Brian joins him with two cups of coffee though.
The shade reaches the house too and its hands embrace the kitchen with their warmth and light, clanging the laughter, which has faded away only a few hours ago. Tilting his head to the side, Brian can see into the other room and the castle his son has built in the morning comes into his view…
~ ° ~
Brian stepped out of the shower and shook his head, setting the water drops from his hair to fly in the steamy air. He wrapped a towel around his protruding hips and walked over to the mirror. Brushing his teeth, he watched the water roll over his face, crossing the mild wrinkles around his eyes. He frowned at his own reflection, causing another lines to appear on his forehead. He sighed and spitted the toothpaste into the washbowl. A few seconds later, he could hear a bounce of door and double steps pacing the wooden floor and Brian turned his face just in time to see his son entering the bathroom.
“Happy Birthday dad,” Gus yelled, throwing himself into his arms.
Brian clasped the toothbrush between his teeth and pulled Gus off the ground to get a kiss on his unshaved cheek.
“Happy Birthday Brian,” Lindsay leaned in and kissed him on the other side.
Brian took the toothbrush from between his lips and wiped his mouth with a towel. “What the hell are you two doing here?” He asked, surprised, but happy to see them.
“We made a trip,” Lindsay replied, like if taking a trip to another country was on her agenda.
“I see,” Brian nodded, a bit stunned.
“What are you doing today?” Lindsay wondered.
“Besides getting old,” Brian shrugged. “What are you up to, Sonny-boy?”
“Finding Nemo!” Gus replied and Brian looked up to Lindsay for help.
“It’s a cartoon,” she explained smiling. “He’s got a DVD, if you let him watch it.”
“Aha.” Brian nodded, happy that no one really wanted him to look for Nemo, whatever it was.
“I’m going to see Debbie and there is a few more things I need to do,” Lindsay said, looking for the film in one of her many bags. “You’ll be okay together?” She asked, handing Brian the thin plastic box.
“Sure,” Brian smiled, studying the DVD. “We’ll watch Nemo, right?” He looked at Gus, who nearly pushed Lindsay out of the door.
“Yeah!” He yelled, running into the living room. “Bye mom, see you!”
Lindsay looked at Brian, who was following his son with his eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked seriously, taking in Brian’s thin figure.
“Yeah, why?” Brian looked genuinely confused.
“Why?” She grabbed him by the hand, leading him in front of the mirror. Standing behind him, she traced her hand over his flat stomach. “You’re tinier than two months ago. I’m afraid that the next time I see you, you’ll be a skeleton.”
“Skeleton? Oh, don’t be dramatic, Linz.” Brian hissed, moving out of her reach.
“You look like shit, do you know that?”
“Well, thanks a lot.”
“You work too much. And you don’t sleep enough. You’re pale like Death itself.”
“Tell Michael not to call so soon.”
“Brian, I’m not kidding.” She really wasn’t. “And you know why I’m saying this.”
“Calm down, I’m fine,” Brian answered coldly, hating to bring this topic up. “The cancer’s gone and it hasn’t shown up again.”
Lindsay smiled bitterly at him. “You wouldn’t tell me anyway, would you?”
The morning passed away quickly. Brian and Gus watched ‘Nemo’, and played scrabble. Brian let Gus win only three times out of five, because any other way, Gus would consider it as deathly suspicious.
When the phone rang, Brian rushed to pick it up and even Gus could see the disappointment written upon his face, when the caller began to speak. Brian had expected Debbie to ask them over, but somehow he hoped he’d be able to talk his way out of it.
“Hey Gus,” Brian said, kneeling beside Gus, who was building another house within Britin; of Lego and dreams and his wild imagination. Who would have cared that the building had no windows to look out of, no door to enter and hide from the North wind, when it made him happy?
“Wanna go see Aunt Debbie?” Brian asked, hoping that Gus would say no, so they could stay at home, separated from the rest of the world for another few hours. But of course Gus wanted to see the unique old woman Debbie, if only because his mom had told him to do anything to get his daddy over there.
“Wonderful,” Brian sighed. “Then go to find your coat, I’ll get the car keys.”
“Okay,” Gus nodded and Brian again stopped to wonder at the innocence and trust tattooed in his dark eyes. He’d been missing the huge eyes and Gus’ laugh. Brian could nearly see himself in the chocolate puddles, although he knew he hadn’t looked like him back then at all. He had been skinny, bruised, with dark circles under his eyes and cuts around his lips. He kept his distance from the other kids. He was scared and hard. He hadn’t been as playful and as open as Gus. Brian swore to himself, he’d do anything to keep the innocence in Gus’ eyes for the longest time possible.
Ten minutes later they were both ready and Brian had locked the door, hoping that it wouldn’t take long and he’d be back. He’d be back home finally alone and able to drown in his depression, like he’d been planning for the whole morning and all the previous years. He was used to hating his birthdays.
“Wait!” Gus exclaimed suddenly, tearing Brian out of his dreaming.
“What? You forgot something?”
“Yeah,” Gus replied, already pushing the door open once the lock had clicked.
Brian shook his head amusedly, listening to Gus’ steps ringing through the empty house. He walked to the car and lit up a cigarette. His gaze lingered upon the high grass and the blooming ox-daisies framing the sidewalk. He’d been thinking about calling somebody to cut it, but looking at it now, how the flowers practically shone in the sunlight, he changed his mind. He could leave it this way for a bit longer. He could keep it like that for Justin and his imagination. Hopefully, he’d come to visit before the blooms were all dead.
“We’re ready,” Gus announced, walking through the door. Long forgotten memories rushed back to Brian as he noticed the toy in Gus’ hand; the teddy he had bought him seven years ago. Although Brian would swear it wasn’t so worn at the time.
“He’d be scared if he stayed there alone,” Gus explained and Brian only nodded his understanding.
~ ° ~
Brian re-fills his cup with the hot bitter drug, wincing at the memory of the chocolate cake from Debbie. One piece of the delicious, but unbelievably sweet candy would leave a horrible spot on his weight, but two would be the death of him, if he’s not lucky enough to get in the gym tomorrow. He’s surprised that even after so many years, he still isn’t able to tell Debbie no…
~ ° ~
Ignoring the fact that it was his celebration and not caring that they all were there only for him, Brian snuggled in a corner of the room with Gus and his train. He had not asked for their attention.
“Okay, everyone,” Debbie yelled, tearing Gus and Brian from their game. “We all know why we are here now, so I’ll say stop pretending you’re not here, Brian and get your skinny ass over here.”
Brian smirked, if something had changed, Debbie definitely had not.
“The cake!” Gus jumped off the floor and crashing the train under his feet nearly, run into the kitchen.
Pretending he’s busy with rebuilding the track, Brian tried to avoid the unavoidable for a bit longer.
“Stop the strike,” Emmett’s cheering voice sounded above Brian’s head and he looked at him confusedly.
“The strike,” Emmett repeated.
“Ha ha,” Brian grimaced. “I’ll be right there. No need to worry.”
“You know,” Em began seriously. “Just because it’s not the same, it doesn’t mean it can’t be good.”
“Huh?”
“I saw you.” Emmett pointed at Brian’s finger, jeweled with the single golden ring. “You obviously don’t realize that, but you keep touching it, stroking it gently. And every time you do, you get that lost look on your face. I know you miss him, but just because he’s not here, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish to be here. It is the same with Michael. And believe me, they both would agree with Debbie.”
“I see,” Brian nodded, uncomprehendingly. “Thank you, Honeyc- honey.” He clapped him on the back, heading to join the rest of the group in the kitchen.
With Gus in his lap to help him, Brian blew out all the candles on the big cake and made a secret wish in his head. Denying everything he once used to believe in, he wished for the part of him, gaping somewhere in the over peopled streets of New York, to return to him.
When the door had clasped behind him a few hours later, Brian felt like he was finally able to breathe again. He loved every single one of them more than his own family, but sometimes they were just too much for one person to handle. He had to grind his teeth to keep himself from yelling when they kept asking how he’s doing without Justin. He wondered if Justin had been asked the same.
~ ° ~
Turning the lights off, Brian heads to the bedroom. The dark, paint-smelling shadow of the silent room below catches his attention and he enters. Reaching blindly into the darkness, he finds the switch and turns on the light but only the soft, honey-colored lamp in the corner of the room. Orange and blue walls, wooden floor tattooed with various flakes of colors. Organized chaos; brushes and paints everywhere, crayons, coals, watercolors, sketches, besmeared pieces of clothes, Brian’s old thorn shirt Justin had once stolen from his wardrobe, an easel with an abandoned painting - self-portrait. Outlines drew with coal, partly grayed out face. The tableau literally screams to be finished.
Mindlessly, Brian reaches out. His fingers follow the lines of the face and empty ache sits in his stomach. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his thorn jeans and sighs.
The sound of a closing door breaks the silence suddenly and echoes through the whole building. Rustle of keys, dropped suitcases, quite steps…
Without taking his eyes off the picture, Brian smiles. He knows his walk, his smell. He knows how the planks in the floor squeak under his feet, how the air changes with his smile.
A pair of warm hands covers Brian’s eyes and the streak of cold metal brushes his eyelid.
“Happy Birthday Brian,” Justin whispers into his ear.
Brian covers Justin’s hands with his, and pulling them off his eyes he turns to look at him. He’s got a million questions on his tongue, but he can’t ask one. Justin brings the coolness from outside and the rush of the big city, but also the comfort of home the house was missing when he was gone.
He’s smiling at Brian, making him melt from inside, which only he can do and Brian can’t help but smile too.
“I’m back.” Justin says simply, before his lips cover Brian’s in a kiss that lasts for hours, or so it seems.
The End