Second Chance
Title: Second Chance
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Characters: Brian & Justin
Summary: 2.20
..."I don't want to go, don't you understand? I don't want him to give me what you can't. I want you to give me what you think you can't give me."
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine, don't you know?
Beta:
positive_pat
Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EVI!!!
eva213
I'm terribly sorry it took me so long. And I'm sorry I've left this fandom, but I kind of couldn't help it, I don't know how to fight something what's supernatural. Well, now I know... a bit. ;-) Rock-salt is a wonderful thing for example... But where was I? Oh yeah...
I'm sure you all remember when I said I can't write fics for QaF anymore. And if it isn't true. I've been working on this story since November (or longer, do you know Evi?), re-writing, re-thinking... I've given it up a few times and came back to it a few days ago. I'm still not satisfied, but I guess I'll never be. This isn't the kind of story I usually write and I think you can tell from the way it's written, but Eva asked me (okay, I forced her to make a request and here we go) for this plot/episode, so... I just hope it's not too bad. The title sucks... any better idea??
Big thanks to Pat for such a quick Beta-work!
Second Chance
“It’s your call where you want to be. You decide.”
The words linger in the air, tense, slowly falling down like rain; heavy and cold. As Brian moves, he can nearly feel them breaking and he wishes he were able to break the truth just as easily. The truth he doesn’t want to know and admit. The castle in the air, which was slowly and unnoticeably falling down, has finally crashed and now it seems there’s nothing that can be done to glue it back together.
Brian’s blood is rushing through his body, pulsating with anger and his inability to do something that could bring Justin back to him. He knows that although Justin’s body is still there, his mind is somewhere else, just like it has been for the last few weeks. No matter how hard Brian tried to ignore and contain that fact, he knows that he’s unable to reach Justin there.
“He loves me!” “Your dreamy-eyed school boy.” “It’s more than you ever said.” “In ways that I won’t’… Words of love and betrayal roll in Brian’s mind shattering ideas and naivety like a storm the waves against the reef, making him want to go and break something.
“Fuck!” Brian shoves a can with pencils off the table and it lands on the floor with a defining bang, which echoes through the silent loft and causes Justin to jerk as he is startled. Justin turns to look at Brian, who sighs and rests his elbows on the table, leaning his head into his hands.
Truth is, Brian knows exactly what Justin wants him to do. He knows what Justin wants to hear. But he can’t say that. The three words, which portray everything he doesn’t believe in. He never had a reason to believe in them. What does he know about love? Hell knows if he understands what love is. He doesn’t know what he feels. He has no idea what the feeling, which makes him want to ask Justin to stay, is but he’s sure that the three simple words can’t describe it.
The day has drifted away long ago behind the large windows. Darkness has embraced the loft in its protective grasp and Brian has the feeling that they feel each other more than really see in the twilight. He can sense Justin standing a few steps behind him and his intense gaze, which threatens to burn a hole into his back. Lost in his thoughts, Brian jumps a little when Justin’s warm hands rest on his shoulders. A sudden need for comfort makes him lean into his touch, but when a pair of hot lips brushes gently the sensitive spot under his ear, his eyes fly open.
“What are you doing?” He asks; voice low and raspy from the Jim Bean flowing in his bloody circulation.
His answer is Justin’s tongue drawing a wet path over his jaw line and Justin’s hands following the length of his arms. Brian unwillingly shivers, feeling the hairs on his arms stand up.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions again, irritated.
“Helping you decide where you want me to be,” Justin replies finally with a smile, which only adds to the fire blazing in Brian’s veins.
“Me?” Brian asks genuinely. “This isn’t about me. You must know.”
Justin’s teeth sink into Brian’s earlobe; enough to apply pressure, but not enough to cause pain and Brian hisses.
“Of course it is about you,” Justin objects, resting his chin on Brian’s shoulder. “Probably more than you think.” His fingers sneak behind the waistband of Brian’s pants. Brian’s body visibly tightens, but he pushes Justin’s hand away.
“Stop it,” Brian orders and stands up.
Brian picks up a stack of papers off his desk and walks over to sit down on the couch, setting the papers on the coffee table in front of him. He turns on the lamp blinking against the sudden explosion of light. Justin lets out a frustrated groan, but he’s in a fighting mood and he won’t give up until he gets what he wants. He crosses the short distance between them quickly and stands in front of Brian.
“What do you want?” He asks firmly.
Brian straightens up and his tired eyes look at Justin confusedly.
“Well, for once you could move out of the light,” he says, but Justin shakes his head.
He places his hands on Brian’s shoulders tightly and presses him down onto the couch. He crawls onto Brian’s lap, straddling his hips.
“Tell me now. Tell me what you want.” Justin demands, eyes uncompromisingly piercing Brian’s.
Need and heat rush down Brian’s groin and he knows that Justin can feel it, however he fights hard to keep the annoyed look on his face. “You heard me.”
Justin moves forward, drawing his hips into Brian’s and gasps at the friction. Brian’s back arches and he unsuccessfully tried to hide an intake of breath. He opens his mouth to tell Justin to fuck off, but right then Justin grabs his tie and draws his face closer, crashing their lips together. Brian’s muffled protest is stolen by Justin’s tongue, which parts his lips seeking the familiar smoothness and heat.
Justin waits until Brian starts to return the kiss lazily and then pulls away. His hand is still gripping the tie, while his other hand sneaks between their bodies. The button on Brian’s pants gives up quickly under Justin’s fingers and as he unzips the zipper, he can feel Brian’s erection growing under his touch. Brian moans quietly and his hands grip Justin’s hips to keep him down. Keep him close. For a few seconds he even forgets he’s angry with Justin, but his voice snaps him quickly back to reality.
“Really?” Justin’s hand slowly strokes Brian through the thin cloth of his underwear. Too slowly and Brian sizzles. His hands fall back to his sides. “Something tells me it’s not what you really want,” Justin comments, looking deeply into Brian’s eyes, which stare firmly back at him.
“So you’ve made me hard,” Brian replies dryly. “So now what? What are you actually trying to do?”
Justin is slowly undoing the buttons on Brian’s shirt as he leans in to brush his lips against Brian’s neck. His tongue darts out and he licks the outline of Brian’s ear. Brian is unable to keep back a growl and his fingers grasp the rim of Justin’s sweatshirt.
“I’m trying to get you inside of me,” Justin whispers into his ear and Brian shivers from the hot breath on his wet skin. “Because the only time you really listen to me is when we have sex. In other times you weren’t even here.”
Brian’s anger bubbles and he takes a deep breath, trying to get control over his rapidly beating heart and the aching lust flowing through his whole body.
“That is such bullshit. I was right here with you!”
“No, you weren’t. Your mind was somewhere else!” Justin yells back.
“I had to work,” Brian points out, shoving Justin away, so he can stand up.
“You always had.” Justin spits back; his voice unnaturally higher. “You always have! The work is always more important than me!”
“Not always,” Brian protests, zipping his pants up. “But, in case you didn’t notice, Mr. Taylor, I nearly lost my job. How do you expect me to pay for this place and your school without money?” Brian’s voice is rough, angry and Justin knows he’s right in this case, but -
“And may I point out, what were you doing while I was working my ass out? You picked up your things and left for Vermont without a fucking word!”
“You didn’t want to go.” Justin protests weakly, losing this argument to the truth he hadn’t realized.
“I never said I didn’t want to go, I said ‘I couldn’t,” Brian corrects. “Or do you really think I prefer to sell my ass out and nearly beg on my knees to get my job back, instead of rolling your ass out in the snow?”
“Brian…”
Brian leans against the counter and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pale pants. “You wanted me to listen to you. Well… I am.”
Justin walks to stand in front of Brian, who’s keeping his eyes on him firmly. Justin tries to keep his breath under control and his voice even. He tries to keep his thoughts on a rational level, but it’s difficult while looking at Brian. Justin catches himself wondering if Brian realizes how beautiful and sexy he is in this very moment. His large body is tense. The rim of his shirt expose his firm, sweaty chest and his pants are lifted with the arousal he tries to hide or simply ignore. His eyes are shaded and wild like the eyes of an animal. Of a beautiful wild animal.
Justin licks his lips at the sight and he can feel himself getting hard because he wants him. Not because he wanted to use sex to make Brian do something, but because his body is always aching for Brian. Even - especially - when Brian doesn’t want him or when Justin doesn’t want to want him. Plus, if there’s something that they are really good at, it’s going from anger to sex, from fighting to fucking…
“Give me a reason,” Justin says. “Give me just one reason why you want me to stay.”
Brian gives him a weird, uncomprehending look and Justin smirks sadly.
“Right, you’ve never said you want me here in the first place.”
“You want me to give you a reason for staying with me?” Brian wonders confusedly. “If you can’t find one, then I really have no idea why you were ever with me.”
Justin nods, more in the way to tell Brian he’s listening than really agreeing.
“You asked me why I’m still here,” Justin remembers. He can see Brian’s eyes shifting, drifting away and he’s afraid that Brian will drift away too, so he reaches for his face, holding his head. “I’m here because I love you.”
“Justin…” What is it about these three words that always make Brian shiver when coming from somebody else other than Mikey?
“I’m here because I fucking love you, even when it hurts and consumes me alive.”
Justin’s voice starts to quiver and Brian wishes he was able too look away so he would not see the vulnerable expression on his face. But Justin’s eyes hold his. Hold him and burn down to his very core.
“I don’t want to go, don’t you understand?! I don’t want him to give me what you can’t. I want you to give me what you think you can’t give me. Because I know you can give me that. He’s not better, but he gives me what you deny even to yourself.”
“I see,” Brian nods, because he has no idea what else to say. Justin’s words have taken the wind out of his sails.
“But he says he loves me.” Justin points out. ‘And it means so much now,’ he thinks.
“You’ve already said that.” Brian points out coldly, afraid he will freak out if there is one more ‘he’. Brian doesn’t want to fight, if words of love are what Justin wants, so be it.
“Fuck you,” Justin shakes his head and sighs deeply. He’s tired, tired of Brian playing cold, acting like he were some statue - beautiful but untouchable, cold and mute.
He walks to the bedroom and grabs his school bag from the floor. Moving through the loft, he collects his personal things and things he’ll need over the next few days.
Brian stands where he is, watching him. Something inside him yells, but he’s unable to move.
But when Justin walks to the door, he comes to his senses.
“Don’t… go,” he says finally.
Justin stops and then hesitantly turns to look at him, waiting.
Brian’s eyes slip from his, unsure, nervous look replaces the cold, non-committal. It feels like eternity before he speaks up.
“You asked me what I want,” he reminds Justin, who nods thoughtfully. “I want to go to Paris. I want you to go with me.”
“What?”
“I want you to spend a week in Paris with me,” Brian clarifies.
“Paris?” Justin repeats, stunned. Spend a week in a city of love with Brian?!
“Yeah, remember, when you had the nightmares?”
Brian starts to pace the kitchen nervously, the memories still alive for him, too alive. Justin waits for him to calm down. He knows he will, eventually.
“You used to talk about Paris, when you couldn’t sleep. You would talk about Seine and Montmartre, Louver and Notre-dame. I want you to see all of it.”
‘I want to watch you seeing all of it,’ is what he doesn’t add. What he doesn’t let slip out.
Justin looks at him uncomprehendingly. He doesn’t believe. He cannot.
Of course he remembers the nightmares. He remembers more and he sees. The deepness of Brian’s eyes mirror his soul and Justin reads them like an open book, facts and memories he forgot, but can see painfully clearly now…
The shock in Brian’s eyes when they met at Woody’s a few long weeks after the Prom. When he finally saw the man he’s been fighting to see and who seemed to be scared of his gaze, for he’d been blaming himself for all that had happened. A man who prayed to forget what he saw one faithful night.
It wasn’t Ethan who took him to the place he more than once called home and slowly, patiently showed him how to live again. It wasn’t Ethan’s arms that held him in the nights when the scenes he didn’t remember were haunting him in his dreams. It wasn’t Ethan’s body protecting him and warming him when he shivered and cried. It wasn’t Ethan, who, maybe exhausted, stayed awake to listen to Justin’s mumbling when he couldn’t or didn’t want to sleep. It’s not Ethan’s voice, which from time to time rings through the loft when memories leak into the sleep of the fearless man.
And even Justin can see the irony now: It’s Brian who helped him to accept other’s hands on his body. Brian is the reason that Ethan can touch him now.
Christ, could they be screwed up any more?
“Paris?” Justin says again, feeling the tears burning in his eyes.
Brian’s eyes are serious, when he offers: “This might not change what you feel, but… give us the chance. Then decide. That is, if you want to give us the chance.”
Okay,” Justin nods, after a few endless minutes, wiping the tears off his cheeks with his sleeve. “Okay. Yes.”
Brian nods silently, but there’s a tiny smile playing on his lips. He walks to Justin and pulls the bag off his shoulder. He touches his face gently and his thumb brushes the salted drops off Justin’s chin.
“I hate you,” Justin bubbles, wrapping his arms around Brian’s neck tightly. “I fucking hate you.”
Brian wraps his arm around Justin’s waist protectively and his fingers delve into his hair, playing with it softly. He brushes his lips lightly against Justin’s cheek, whispering, “I know.”
The End
Fandom: Queer as Folk
Characters: Brian & Justin
Summary: 2.20
..."I don't want to go, don't you understand? I don't want him to give me what you can't. I want you to give me what you think you can't give me."
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine, don't you know?
Beta:
positive_pat
Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EVI!!!
eva213
I'm terribly sorry it took me so long. And I'm sorry I've left this fandom, but I kind of couldn't help it, I don't know how to fight something what's supernatural. Well, now I know... a bit. ;-) Rock-salt is a wonderful thing for example... But where was I? Oh yeah...
I'm sure you all remember when I said I can't write fics for QaF anymore. And if it isn't true. I've been working on this story since November (or longer, do you know Evi?), re-writing, re-thinking... I've given it up a few times and came back to it a few days ago. I'm still not satisfied, but I guess I'll never be. This isn't the kind of story I usually write and I think you can tell from the way it's written, but Eva asked me (okay, I forced her to make a request and here we go) for this plot/episode, so... I just hope it's not too bad. The title sucks... any better idea??
Big thanks to Pat for such a quick Beta-work!
Second Chance
“It’s your call where you want to be. You decide.”
The words linger in the air, tense, slowly falling down like rain; heavy and cold. As Brian moves, he can nearly feel them breaking and he wishes he were able to break the truth just as easily. The truth he doesn’t want to know and admit. The castle in the air, which was slowly and unnoticeably falling down, has finally crashed and now it seems there’s nothing that can be done to glue it back together.
Brian’s blood is rushing through his body, pulsating with anger and his inability to do something that could bring Justin back to him. He knows that although Justin’s body is still there, his mind is somewhere else, just like it has been for the last few weeks. No matter how hard Brian tried to ignore and contain that fact, he knows that he’s unable to reach Justin there.
“He loves me!” “Your dreamy-eyed school boy.” “It’s more than you ever said.” “In ways that I won’t’… Words of love and betrayal roll in Brian’s mind shattering ideas and naivety like a storm the waves against the reef, making him want to go and break something.
“Fuck!” Brian shoves a can with pencils off the table and it lands on the floor with a defining bang, which echoes through the silent loft and causes Justin to jerk as he is startled. Justin turns to look at Brian, who sighs and rests his elbows on the table, leaning his head into his hands.
Truth is, Brian knows exactly what Justin wants him to do. He knows what Justin wants to hear. But he can’t say that. The three words, which portray everything he doesn’t believe in. He never had a reason to believe in them. What does he know about love? Hell knows if he understands what love is. He doesn’t know what he feels. He has no idea what the feeling, which makes him want to ask Justin to stay, is but he’s sure that the three simple words can’t describe it.
The day has drifted away long ago behind the large windows. Darkness has embraced the loft in its protective grasp and Brian has the feeling that they feel each other more than really see in the twilight. He can sense Justin standing a few steps behind him and his intense gaze, which threatens to burn a hole into his back. Lost in his thoughts, Brian jumps a little when Justin’s warm hands rest on his shoulders. A sudden need for comfort makes him lean into his touch, but when a pair of hot lips brushes gently the sensitive spot under his ear, his eyes fly open.
“What are you doing?” He asks; voice low and raspy from the Jim Bean flowing in his bloody circulation.
His answer is Justin’s tongue drawing a wet path over his jaw line and Justin’s hands following the length of his arms. Brian unwillingly shivers, feeling the hairs on his arms stand up.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions again, irritated.
“Helping you decide where you want me to be,” Justin replies finally with a smile, which only adds to the fire blazing in Brian’s veins.
“Me?” Brian asks genuinely. “This isn’t about me. You must know.”
Justin’s teeth sink into Brian’s earlobe; enough to apply pressure, but not enough to cause pain and Brian hisses.
“Of course it is about you,” Justin objects, resting his chin on Brian’s shoulder. “Probably more than you think.” His fingers sneak behind the waistband of Brian’s pants. Brian’s body visibly tightens, but he pushes Justin’s hand away.
“Stop it,” Brian orders and stands up.
Brian picks up a stack of papers off his desk and walks over to sit down on the couch, setting the papers on the coffee table in front of him. He turns on the lamp blinking against the sudden explosion of light. Justin lets out a frustrated groan, but he’s in a fighting mood and he won’t give up until he gets what he wants. He crosses the short distance between them quickly and stands in front of Brian.
“What do you want?” He asks firmly.
Brian straightens up and his tired eyes look at Justin confusedly.
“Well, for once you could move out of the light,” he says, but Justin shakes his head.
He places his hands on Brian’s shoulders tightly and presses him down onto the couch. He crawls onto Brian’s lap, straddling his hips.
“Tell me now. Tell me what you want.” Justin demands, eyes uncompromisingly piercing Brian’s.
Need and heat rush down Brian’s groin and he knows that Justin can feel it, however he fights hard to keep the annoyed look on his face. “You heard me.”
Justin moves forward, drawing his hips into Brian’s and gasps at the friction. Brian’s back arches and he unsuccessfully tried to hide an intake of breath. He opens his mouth to tell Justin to fuck off, but right then Justin grabs his tie and draws his face closer, crashing their lips together. Brian’s muffled protest is stolen by Justin’s tongue, which parts his lips seeking the familiar smoothness and heat.
Justin waits until Brian starts to return the kiss lazily and then pulls away. His hand is still gripping the tie, while his other hand sneaks between their bodies. The button on Brian’s pants gives up quickly under Justin’s fingers and as he unzips the zipper, he can feel Brian’s erection growing under his touch. Brian moans quietly and his hands grip Justin’s hips to keep him down. Keep him close. For a few seconds he even forgets he’s angry with Justin, but his voice snaps him quickly back to reality.
“Really?” Justin’s hand slowly strokes Brian through the thin cloth of his underwear. Too slowly and Brian sizzles. His hands fall back to his sides. “Something tells me it’s not what you really want,” Justin comments, looking deeply into Brian’s eyes, which stare firmly back at him.
“So you’ve made me hard,” Brian replies dryly. “So now what? What are you actually trying to do?”
Justin is slowly undoing the buttons on Brian’s shirt as he leans in to brush his lips against Brian’s neck. His tongue darts out and he licks the outline of Brian’s ear. Brian is unable to keep back a growl and his fingers grasp the rim of Justin’s sweatshirt.
“I’m trying to get you inside of me,” Justin whispers into his ear and Brian shivers from the hot breath on his wet skin. “Because the only time you really listen to me is when we have sex. In other times you weren’t even here.”
Brian’s anger bubbles and he takes a deep breath, trying to get control over his rapidly beating heart and the aching lust flowing through his whole body.
“That is such bullshit. I was right here with you!”
“No, you weren’t. Your mind was somewhere else!” Justin yells back.
“I had to work,” Brian points out, shoving Justin away, so he can stand up.
“You always had.” Justin spits back; his voice unnaturally higher. “You always have! The work is always more important than me!”
“Not always,” Brian protests, zipping his pants up. “But, in case you didn’t notice, Mr. Taylor, I nearly lost my job. How do you expect me to pay for this place and your school without money?” Brian’s voice is rough, angry and Justin knows he’s right in this case, but -
“And may I point out, what were you doing while I was working my ass out? You picked up your things and left for Vermont without a fucking word!”
“You didn’t want to go.” Justin protests weakly, losing this argument to the truth he hadn’t realized.
“I never said I didn’t want to go, I said ‘I couldn’t,” Brian corrects. “Or do you really think I prefer to sell my ass out and nearly beg on my knees to get my job back, instead of rolling your ass out in the snow?”
“Brian…”
Brian leans against the counter and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pale pants. “You wanted me to listen to you. Well… I am.”
Justin walks to stand in front of Brian, who’s keeping his eyes on him firmly. Justin tries to keep his breath under control and his voice even. He tries to keep his thoughts on a rational level, but it’s difficult while looking at Brian. Justin catches himself wondering if Brian realizes how beautiful and sexy he is in this very moment. His large body is tense. The rim of his shirt expose his firm, sweaty chest and his pants are lifted with the arousal he tries to hide or simply ignore. His eyes are shaded and wild like the eyes of an animal. Of a beautiful wild animal.
Justin licks his lips at the sight and he can feel himself getting hard because he wants him. Not because he wanted to use sex to make Brian do something, but because his body is always aching for Brian. Even - especially - when Brian doesn’t want him or when Justin doesn’t want to want him. Plus, if there’s something that they are really good at, it’s going from anger to sex, from fighting to fucking…
“Give me a reason,” Justin says. “Give me just one reason why you want me to stay.”
Brian gives him a weird, uncomprehending look and Justin smirks sadly.
“Right, you’ve never said you want me here in the first place.”
“You want me to give you a reason for staying with me?” Brian wonders confusedly. “If you can’t find one, then I really have no idea why you were ever with me.”
Justin nods, more in the way to tell Brian he’s listening than really agreeing.
“You asked me why I’m still here,” Justin remembers. He can see Brian’s eyes shifting, drifting away and he’s afraid that Brian will drift away too, so he reaches for his face, holding his head. “I’m here because I love you.”
“Justin…” What is it about these three words that always make Brian shiver when coming from somebody else other than Mikey?
“I’m here because I fucking love you, even when it hurts and consumes me alive.”
Justin’s voice starts to quiver and Brian wishes he was able too look away so he would not see the vulnerable expression on his face. But Justin’s eyes hold his. Hold him and burn down to his very core.
“I don’t want to go, don’t you understand?! I don’t want him to give me what you can’t. I want you to give me what you think you can’t give me. Because I know you can give me that. He’s not better, but he gives me what you deny even to yourself.”
“I see,” Brian nods, because he has no idea what else to say. Justin’s words have taken the wind out of his sails.
“But he says he loves me.” Justin points out. ‘And it means so much now,’ he thinks.
“You’ve already said that.” Brian points out coldly, afraid he will freak out if there is one more ‘he’. Brian doesn’t want to fight, if words of love are what Justin wants, so be it.
“Fuck you,” Justin shakes his head and sighs deeply. He’s tired, tired of Brian playing cold, acting like he were some statue - beautiful but untouchable, cold and mute.
He walks to the bedroom and grabs his school bag from the floor. Moving through the loft, he collects his personal things and things he’ll need over the next few days.
Brian stands where he is, watching him. Something inside him yells, but he’s unable to move.
But when Justin walks to the door, he comes to his senses.
“Don’t… go,” he says finally.
Justin stops and then hesitantly turns to look at him, waiting.
Brian’s eyes slip from his, unsure, nervous look replaces the cold, non-committal. It feels like eternity before he speaks up.
“You asked me what I want,” he reminds Justin, who nods thoughtfully. “I want to go to Paris. I want you to go with me.”
“What?”
“I want you to spend a week in Paris with me,” Brian clarifies.
“Paris?” Justin repeats, stunned. Spend a week in a city of love with Brian?!
“Yeah, remember, when you had the nightmares?”
Brian starts to pace the kitchen nervously, the memories still alive for him, too alive. Justin waits for him to calm down. He knows he will, eventually.
“You used to talk about Paris, when you couldn’t sleep. You would talk about Seine and Montmartre, Louver and Notre-dame. I want you to see all of it.”
‘I want to watch you seeing all of it,’ is what he doesn’t add. What he doesn’t let slip out.
Justin looks at him uncomprehendingly. He doesn’t believe. He cannot.
Of course he remembers the nightmares. He remembers more and he sees. The deepness of Brian’s eyes mirror his soul and Justin reads them like an open book, facts and memories he forgot, but can see painfully clearly now…
The shock in Brian’s eyes when they met at Woody’s a few long weeks after the Prom. When he finally saw the man he’s been fighting to see and who seemed to be scared of his gaze, for he’d been blaming himself for all that had happened. A man who prayed to forget what he saw one faithful night.
It wasn’t Ethan who took him to the place he more than once called home and slowly, patiently showed him how to live again. It wasn’t Ethan’s arms that held him in the nights when the scenes he didn’t remember were haunting him in his dreams. It wasn’t Ethan’s body protecting him and warming him when he shivered and cried. It wasn’t Ethan, who, maybe exhausted, stayed awake to listen to Justin’s mumbling when he couldn’t or didn’t want to sleep. It’s not Ethan’s voice, which from time to time rings through the loft when memories leak into the sleep of the fearless man.
And even Justin can see the irony now: It’s Brian who helped him to accept other’s hands on his body. Brian is the reason that Ethan can touch him now.
Christ, could they be screwed up any more?
“Paris?” Justin says again, feeling the tears burning in his eyes.
Brian’s eyes are serious, when he offers: “This might not change what you feel, but… give us the chance. Then decide. That is, if you want to give us the chance.”
Okay,” Justin nods, after a few endless minutes, wiping the tears off his cheeks with his sleeve. “Okay. Yes.”
Brian nods silently, but there’s a tiny smile playing on his lips. He walks to Justin and pulls the bag off his shoulder. He touches his face gently and his thumb brushes the salted drops off Justin’s chin.
“I hate you,” Justin bubbles, wrapping his arms around Brian’s neck tightly. “I fucking hate you.”
Brian wraps his arm around Justin’s waist protectively and his fingers delve into his hair, playing with it softly. He brushes his lips lightly against Justin’s cheek, whispering, “I know.”
The End