I'm A Mess And You're Oh So Clear
Title taken from Sepiamusic's awesome tune Make This Easier (which you should all listen to).
I don't know what I feel, you need close, but you never get near, I'm a mess and you're oh so clear, so God please make this easier...
This is not happy, it has a hopeful ending, but it has Broken!Justin, and what could be loosely described as Dissociative Identity Disorder. Set after the Bashing.
The nightmares were getting worse.
They happened every time Justin fell asleep now. Not just in the dark of night when he was afraid of the shadows in the loft, afraid to close his eyes. Now it was in the bright sunshine, when he fell asleep on the couch, sleeping off the latest cocktail of pills given to calm him down, pills that made him feel numb, made his mind and memories fuzzy.
He would wake, shaking and sweating, brain and skin humming with panic and fear, head pounding. Brian would always be there though, arms snaking round him, holding him close as the fog lifted and he finally realised where he was. Brian had taken to working from home unless he had a meeting. And only if no one else could do it would he leave, throwing nervous glances at Justin as he walked out of the door.
Justin didn’t sleep when Brian wasn’t there.
He just paced. Organised the mugs because they had to be in height order and Brian always forgot. Twist his hands together and say the words he would say to Chris Hobbs in his head if he ever worked up the courage to speak to him.
Not that he spoke to anyone anymore.
Not even Brian. Words just stuck in his throat, stuck with fear. His brain just didn’t work properly anymore. Sometimes it made him mad and he would lash out, throw things, scream insults at Brian in his head, wishing the words weren’t stuck and he could hurt Brian with more than just punches.
Brian would just stare at him, eyes dark, fingers twitching by his sides and Justin would know, even through the haze of anger and drugs, that Brian wanted to hit him back, wanted to punch the words and memories back into Justin’s brain. Make him who he was before.
Justin pressed the heels of his hands to his temples, pressing hard enough to hurt, ignoring the sharp pain as he pressed hard against the cut, rocking slightly. He felt trapped in his own head, his body hurting from the absence of Brian.
He was never going to be who he was before.
~*~
“So how’s he doing?” Cynthia asked, passing Brian the folder. Brian sighed.
“The whole thing fucking sucks.” He said and Cynthia grimaced sympathetically. “But I’m not some whining muncher so let’s get this meeting over with, so I can get back and fix what damage he’s done.” He grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and plastered his “I’m Brian Fucking Kinney” grin of his face and pushed the door open.
Work had become less of an importance to Brian since the bashing, since Chris Hobbs had taken away Justin. Even though Justin was still there, still pacing his flat, no doubt placing the mugs in height order over and over again, pressing them back against the wall, turning the handles to the same angle, it wasn’t the proud, sure, grinning Justin that Brian had danced with at the prom. It was a shell, an angry, shaking, mute shell.
He felt helpless sometimes, watching Justin in a rage, pressing his fingers to his sides to stop from lashing back at him. Watching Justin’s face contort with anger and frustration as the words, insults, he wanted to say just wouldn’t come.
It was no secret that Brian was a control freak, liked being on top, in all senses of the word, liked it when things went his way. Which is why this whole situation made him feel uneasy and frustrated. There was no way to talk himself out of it, no one he could pay to make it go away, or make it better.
No one to blame except himself. He put Justin in danger, he sat frozen for a second too long before calling out, he spent too long kicking Chris when he should have been holding Justin’s blood in his body, pressing his hands to the wound on his head. Brian screwed up his eyes at the barrage of images, flashes of red, blood on white silk, under his nails, Justin deathly pale in the ambulance. He tried to forget the stricken look on Jennifer’s face when the doctors said he may never be the same. Brian knew how difficult it was to look at someone who you used to think was perfect, and only see cracks and mars, had seen the same look on Jennifer’s face as she stood by his bed, Justin’s limp hand in hers, blame in her eyes as she stared at Brian.
Justin was pacing when Brian got back to the apartment, taking a deep breath as he pulled the door open. The pacing stopped immediately and Justin was on him, hands pressing into Brian’s skin like he was reassuring himself that Brian was actually there, not part of a waking nightmare about to turn on him. Brian grimaced as the memory of the first time Justin ran to him came flooding back.
The pounding on the door had been frantic and Brian had groaned as he lifted himself out of bed, eyes heavy and fingers curling round the scarf around his neck automatically as he had pulled the door open. Justin had been on him in a second, hands clutching and Brian took a step back, wrapped his fingers around Justin’s arms.
“Hey. Justin.” Justin’s eyes were wide, one hand clutching hard, the other loosely, like it didn’t have the strength to grip as hard as he wants. “What’s going on?” Brian had asked, immediately mentally kicking himself, Justin didn’t talk anymore, the nurse at the hospital had told him when she caught him staring at Justin through the glass in his door. Justin had shaken his head once, and Brian caught sight of the ugly gash at his temple, red and angry and had pulled Justin close, ignoring the way his whole body had shaken as he slumped against him.
Brian shook his head clear of the memory as he hooked his fingers under Justin’s chin, lifted his face upwards. Justin’s eyes wide with panic, like Brian had been gone for days instead of a couple of hours. Brian ran his fingers over the slowly healing gash on Justin’s temple and Justin jerked his head away, pulled away from Brian and went back to pacing, biting on his thumb nail.
The mugs were immaculate, handles all facing to the right and Brian sighed heavily, a tiny amount of relief flooding through him as he noticed nothing broken. He had come back to broken china strewn over the floor a number of times, a few small cuts on Justin’s hands as he crouched on the floor surrounded with tiny shard of broken china, his face confused and worried.
The phone ringing made Justin jump and Brian managed to pull him close, murmur “it’s ok” into his ear before he answered it.
“Yeah.”
“That bad huh?” Mikey asked. Brian sighed again, letting go of Justin as he wound his fingers into Brian's short, unable, or unwilling to let go just yet. Brian couldn’t find it in him to care about the wrinkles. So much about his life had changed since Justin had come into it.
“Yeah.” He agreed and Mikey sighed.
“I was going to suggest I come round with a movie but it’s probably not the right time, right?” He asked.
“Not tonight.” Brian said and Justin let go, started pacing, his lips working like he was trying to say something. “Maybe tomorrow?” Brian suggested, eyes watching Justin walk up and down in front of the couch.
“Yeah ok, call me if you need anything.” Brian appreciated it, he really did, but the constant hovering of friends was getting on his nerves. It made Justin jumpy every time the phone rang, and made Brian angry at the sympathy. He didn’t want sympathy, he wasn’t doing it for that. He wanted Justin back.
At first it had been guilt, eating away at him that had made him take Justin in after Jennifer had begged. She came, embarrassed, to his door, saying Justin needed him, he wouldn’t let anyone close, kept writing Brian’s name, loose grip on the pencil going over and over the lines of the word, hand writing like a child learning to write for the first time, shaking and scratchy. Maybe Brian could help. Brian had wanted to ask her what kind of mother she was for giving up her broken son to the one person who had helped in getting him broken, but he knew how difficult it must have been to look at Justin and only see how perfect he used to be.
Justin had worked his way into Brian’s life before, now he was so far in, all jagged edges, catching on Brian, snagging on his insides, that there was never anyway he would let him go, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. The guilt was still heavy and bitter in his stomach.
It wasn’t just guilt now though, it was those tiny moments when he would see the old Justin, a small smile thrown at Brian, the way he would sometimes stare out of the window, paintbrush in hand like he was seeking inspiration. Brian could almost forget that he was doing it for comfort, that his hand had too much nerve damage to paint. Brian would just stop, stare at Justin, realise that deep down he cared deeply for the broken boy who was now pacing furiously, rage starting to build up again.
Brian shrugged off his jacket and folded up his sleeves, prepared himself for the worst as Justin picked up a plate from the counter.
~*~
Justin could feel it building, the silent anger, slowly coiling in his belly like snakes, all wriggly and squirming. It made him hot, made his skin itch like he wanted to scratch it off with his nails, peel it back and fix the broken nerves underneath. His temple throbbed as he paced, counting the steps from one end of the apartment to the other. There were normally 15 but Justin could make it in 12 if he tried. 12, the smallest number with 6 divisors. Justin had never been very good at Math, not interested in numbers when pictures, smooth lines of a painting, had calmed him enough before he broke, but it seemed to calm him now, there was no grey, just black and white, it helped him when he paced, reciting the tables in his head.
There was a plate in his hand, china cool against his palm. There were crumbs on it, like someone had eaten off it. But Justin couldn’t remember eating. He frowned at it, head cocked to the side.
“Justin...” Brian’s voice was soft amidst the screaming in his head. The urge to throw the plate on the floor, make it as broken as he was, watch at it splintered into tiny pieces, was almost overwhelming and Justin shut his eyes, squeezed them tight and felt Brian’s hands on him, uncurling his fingers from the plate and placing it back on the counter. “Hit me.” Brian said and Justin snapped his eyes open, body vibrating against the rage. He didn’t want this, didn’t ask for any of this, didn’t want to hurt Brian anymore. He lifted his shaking hands, and Brian flinched. Through the red mist Justin knew this was wrong, this wasn’t how it was meant to be but he couldn’t stop himself from curling his hands into fist, the right one shaking more than the left.
His fist connected with the counter and Justin felt the sharp pain blossom up his arm. It wasn’t enough though, not enough to make the pain in his head stop and he hit it again. Brian caught his hand when he went to hit it the third time, pulling it back and spinning them. He trapped Justin between the counter and his body and Justin pushed, hard. Brian’s hands around his clenched fist tightened and held on, pulling Justin tight against him and he struggled, struggled away, needed to get away, to think, to breathe. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Brian was taunting him, pushing him and Justin reacted, pulled his left fist back and struck, sending Brian stumbling backwards.
Justin bit back a sob as he wound his fingers into Brian’s t-shirt, pulling him close. Brian flinched again and Justin’s anger kicked up a notch, he needed to explain, wanted to say the words that kept getting stuck in his throat but the only noise he could make was a low growl as he let Brian go and walked across the apartment. The average human brain had twelve cranial nerves, Justin remembered that from Biology, and he wondered how many of his were broken beyond repair. Twelve nerves, twelve steps. Justin kept going, spinning on his heel and pressing his hand to his temple.
“Justin, let me see that hand.” Brian’s voice was close behind him and Justin jumped again, spinning around, feeling his head take longer to catch up. Brian’s eyes were right there and he held his hand out, palm up, like he was approaching a wild animal.
Justin held his hand closer to him, shaking his head once no please don’t touch me, I cant... and Brian took a step forward, gently touching his arm.
~*~
Justin looked like a cornered animal, his eyes wide, clutching at his bleeding hand. Brian’s cheek ached but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t cope with, he’d had worse. There was one time when Justin had attacked him with the lamp as he walked through the door.
It wasn’t always bad though, sometimes Justin was in a good mood, he would welcome Brian home with a smile, a gentle touch on his arm, the coffee cups would be in disarray and Justin wouldn’t be pacing. He would be happy when Mikey came over, arms filled with popcorn and movies and they would all bundle onto the couch, Justin curled up to Brian, fingers tangled in the hem of Brian’s t-shirt, almost to anchor himself. Brian would feel the tremble in his body though, would turn off the TV and Mikey would smile sadly, leave with the usual “call me if you need anything” and Brian would shut the door and ready himself for the anger.
Brian just kept looking at Justin, holding his hand out, until Justin seemed to calm, placed his hand in Brian’s. The skin on the knuckles was broken and the blood had started to clot. Brian pulled gently and Justin bit on his bottom lip, nodding once as he allowed Brian to walk them towards to the kitchen.
Justin flinched as the antiseptic touched his broken skin and tried to pull away but Brian held on tight, wiped gently at his knuckles until all the blood was gone and he was able to wrap a bandage around his hand. Justin stared at it, fingers flexing and looked up, grinned at Brian like a child. His smile bright like he wanted to show off his war wound to his friends. He jumped off the stool and wandered into the bedroom.
Brian couldn’t get used to the mood swings. They were quick like tropical rainfall. One minute there was bright sunshine, the next a raging storm. He sighed as he followed Justin, found him pulling his t-shirt over his head. There was a bruise on his shoulder and Brian remembered Justin slamming his shoulder into the wall repeatedly the other day, like he was trying to break through his own walls in his head.
Justin grinned at him again as he crawled into the bed, held the covers open in an invitation. Brian got in next to him and lifted his arm as Justin settled in, shifting around till he was comfortable. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to Brian’s mouth. Brian froze, his hands twitching with the need to cup his face and kiss him back. It was the first real contact they had since the bashing, and everything before came flooding back, Justin’s moans, the feel of being inside him, Justin’s mouth around his cock.
Justin pulled away, eyes swimming slightly, cocked his head to the side as if contemplating doing it again. Brian pulled the covers up, wrapped them around Justin.
“Go to sleep.” He said and Justin clutched at him, his eyes going wide and scared. Brian sighed and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s ok.” He muttered and Justin sniffed, shook his head but closed his eyes, buried his head against Brian’s chest.
Brian’s lips tingled where Justin had kissed him and his fingers itched to touch his skin, to run down his sides and watched the way he would twitch as they ran over his ribs. Brian wanted to fuck him, wake up smelling of Justin and shower plastered together, pressing Justin into the cool glass.
He closed his eyes, sighing as he felt Justin shift into sleep, his body going lax against him. Brian moved gently, untangling himself from Justin’s limpet like grip and walked gently into his living room. The lights from the city shone through the huge window as Brian stood in front of it, cigarette dangling from his fingers. He cast his eyes to Justin as Justin shifted, let out a small moan in his sleep. Brian sighed again, pressing his fingers to his forehead and waited for inevitable nightmare.
~*~
There was something waiting for him in the dark. A menacing presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His hands were sticky with blood, dark red and he could taste it in the back of his throat, smell it. It was his blood, and he could see himself lying on the concrete, like a movie only he was really there, really seeing his body lying broken and bleeding. Chris was there too, hanging in the shadows, a dark menacing grin on his face and Justin shuddered, tried to run, turned on his heel, his feet slipping on his blood on the floor, stumbling to the ground. Chris towering over him with the bat, words of hatred slipping from his mouth and he draws the bat up, swings it down at Justin...
“Hey...Justin wake up.” Brian’s hands were on him but Justin struggled against the heavy feeling in his chest, the panic, the way his skin buzzed with fear. He pushed Brian away, sitting up and wiping the sweat from his face. The buzzing got worse when Brian let go, his hands slipping from Justin’s skin and Justin needed him back, needed to feel him. Grabbing his hands, Justin pressed them into his skin, held them to his chest as Brian looked at him, confusion swimming in his gaze.
Justin nodded his head. I need you to touch me. He was so desperate to tell Brian that, but the words stayed stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard as Brian relaxed slightly, curling his fingers into Justin’s skin.
Justin leant forward, brushing his face over Brian’s, rubbing his cheek against Brian’s, Justin stubble catching slightly. It felt good to be close to him, the humming in his brain quieting when he was touching Brian. Brian was still though, like a statue and Justin needed him to move, needed him to press them both into the mattress. He wanted to taste Brian again. He lifted his face, pressing his lips to Brian again. Brian tasted safe, and Justin wanted to crawl inside and never let go, curl up and forget the rest of the world and the bad things that lurked in the dark.
“What are you doing Justin?” Brian asked, his voice right next to Justin’s ear. Justin pulled back, narrowed his eyes slightly.
You’re all I see. Justin needed Brian to see that, needed Brian to know that he was mostly himself when Brian was touching him, he felt the fog lifting when Brian was close.
“No.” Brian pushed him away. Justin felt him slipping through his fingers.
~*~
It took all Brian had, every ounce of strength, to push Justin away. There was a desperate need in his eyes but Brian couldn’t let himself go down that road, couldn’t give into the need he felt in his own body when Justin pressed his hands to him.
Justin’s hands clutched at him, his eyes going wide and panicked and Brian uncurled his fingers from his t-shirt, pulled him close and lay back down. Let Justin shudder against him and his hand pressed into Brian’s skin, always moving, palm hot against Brian’s chest, like he needed to know Brian was still there and it wasn’t enough to just touch, he had to stroke, curl his fingers, press his short nails in. Brian stopped his hand, held it still and Justin stiffened, his body vibrating. It was always difficult to keep him still when he was like this but Brian just held on, his lips tingling again.
“It’s ok.” He assured, feeling Justin relax slightly. “Go back to sleep.” Justin made a noise in the back of his throat and Brian felt the frustration in him as he tried to say something. “It’s ok.” He said again and Justin shook his head, his hair brushing against Brian’s cheek.
It’s not ok. Brian heard the words loud and clear and tightened his grip in Justin.
“Yeah, I know it’s not.”
~*~
Brian didn’t want him. Brian pushed him away, turned his back and took his touches away. Justin was broken and no one wanted him. Justin had woken up smelling of Brian, his skin sticky where it had been pressed up against him. Brian had ignored him most of the day, left Justin’s pills on the counter and Justin had scattered them to the floor in anger, pacing as Brian sighed and picked them up, pushed them into Justin’s hands. Justin shook his head, pouted like a child, but took them, even though they left him dull and struggling to find which way was up. Brian wanted him to take them. Justin stuck out his tongue to show Brian he’d swallowed them, smile playing on his lips. Brian smiled back, the smile that never reached his eyes.
Brian left for work late afternoon with a worried glance and a kiss to his forehead. Justin had clung to him, fingers caught in Brian’s jacket, Brian’s face silently pleading with him to let go.
“I’ll be back in an hour.” He promised and Justin had let go, started pacing as Brian walked out, fingers pressing into his temple, the dull throbbing starting again.
Justin was on step 11 when there was a knock on the door. He jumped, panic flooding his veins as he took another step, make it even, 12, the maximum wind speed of a hurricane, and pressed his hands to the door. There was another knock and Justin pulled it open, hands shaking as he clung to it.
“Uh, package for...” The guy looked down at his clipboard and Justin cocked his head. “Justin Taylor?” Justin closed his eyes. He’s used to be Justin Taylor. Used to be the bright, happy Sunshine Justin Taylor that smiled. He wasn’t Justin Taylor any more. Just Justin. Broken, messed up, Justin.
He shook his head once but held out his shaking hand right hand, clenching it into a fist once before the guy frowned and put the clipboard in his hand.
“Just sign right there.” He said and Justin bit his lip, his fingers shaking as he tried to hold the pen. It skittered out of his hands, clattered to the floor. The guy bent and picked it up, taking the clipboard from his hands. “You know what? Don’t worry about signing, it’s ok.” Justin was so sick of people telling him it was ok. It wasn’t ok, it was never going to be ok. The guy pressed the package into his hands and backed away.
Justin held the small package in his hands. He could make out the words Justin Taylor on it in one handwriting, Brian’s address in another, his mother’s. He frowned as he remembered the way his mother had looked at him before she had given him to Brian, full of guilt and self hatred. His hand shook more as he ripped open the package and a small note fluttered out onto the floor.
I don’t know if this will help or not but I think you should see it. Love always, Daphne.
Justin tried to smile as he remembered Daphne, but the smile stuck on his face as he pulled out the shining DVD. His reflection was distorted, and Justin couldn’t help but think that was what he looked like now, misshapen, and his cut stood out stark against his blonde hair and pale skin.
The image on the TV was shaky, blurry and out of focus and Justin squinted at the scene. Background noise of people laughing and music and images of people smiling. Then he saw them. Brian and Justin, walking through the crowd and the background noise stopped, nobody laughed, nobody smiled. And then Brian took Justin in his arms and Justin smiled. The old Justin Taylor smile, bright and real and whole. They were spinning, spinning and Justin wondered how he managed to say on his feet. But Brian’s arms were around him, holding him tight so of course he stayed on his feet.
“Justin, what are you...” Brian’s voice was low, he sounded worried and Justin froze, watched the small shaky video as the TV Brian pulled Justin Taylor through the crowd again and the video stopped, Chris Hobbs’ angry expression frozen on the screen for a second before it went blank.
“Justin.” Brian tried again but Justin was stuck, his eyes frozen to the screen as a screaming started in his head and his temple throbbed.
He remembered. He remembered Brian’s lips against his, kissing him in front of everyone, Brian smiling against his mouth, wrapping the white silk around his neck and pulling him closer, Brain’s jeep hard against his back.
He remembered smiling at Brian, being bright and happy. Whole. Brian smiling back. Brian doesn’t smile anymore. Then a flash, a stab of pain and then nothing. Justin closed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, almost listening, he could hear Brian shouting, shouting his name and he didn’t know if it was now, in the apartment, or then, Brian over him, pressing his hands into Justin’s head.
Through the noise and screaming he could feel Brian. Brian pulled him close, both of them shaking.
Justin was whole back then, with Brian kissing him, he was happy, and so was Brian. He needed that again.
Brian tasted of worry when Justin kissed him, Brian’s body stiffening and his hands wrapping around Justin’s arms, pushing him gently.
“No Justin.” Brian said, but Justin needed.
Don’t you get it? He wanted to scream, this is the only way I feel whole.
Brian didn’t look at him anymore, not in the way that he did back then and Justin needed him to look at him that way again. He needed to feel Brian under his hands. Brian’s muscles tensed under Justin’s touch, but Justin kept on, pressed his hands firmly to Brian, pushing them under Brian’s t-shirt, his skin warm against Justin’s palms.
“No.” Brian said again, his fingers sliding around Justin’s wrists. Justin pushed on, leaning closer, pressing his lips to the hollow in Brian’s throat. Brian shivered under his touch and his grip loosened.
~*~
Against his better judgement Brian felt his grip loosen around Justin’s wrist, his fingers slipping against his skin. Justin leant forward, pressing his hand closer, his palm warm and slightly damp against the skin of his chest. He’s missed it, the feel of Justin close, the way Justin’s body felt pressed up against his. Justin’s hand snaked lower and Brian ignored the way his mind screamed at him to stop it, Justin was broken and say what you wanted about Brian, he didn’t take advantage of people who didn’t know what they were doing.
He knew Justin felt like he needed to be close, he could see it in Justin’s eyes when Brian allowed himself to touch him, almost like Justin felt grounded when Brian was around. And Brian knew that Justin could sleep only when Brian had his arms around him. This was just Justin’s broken way of putting that information into actions.
Justin’s hand slipped lower and Brian tightened his grip again.
“Justin stop.” He managed to get out, whispered and he felt Justin shake his head. Brian had never had to be the one to stop, to slow down and he felt his resolve slipping as Justin wormed his hand into his pants, fingers grazing at the top of Brian’s cock. Justin grunted and Brian snapped his eyes to his. It was the closest Justin could manage to "let me" and Brian could read it in his eyes. Justin's fingers curled around him and Brian felt every argument dissipate, nothing but the feel of Justin's hand moving slowly, awkwardly, over his cock seemed to matter. Brian tightened his fingers around Justin's wrist, his other hand slipping into Justin's hair. Justin sucked in a breath as Brian's fingers skimmed over the cut on his temple but he carried on.
When his orgasm hit, it tasted like regret, bitter in the back of Brian's throat as Justin shivered along with him, hips twitching, cock pulsing in Justin’s curled fingers. Justin mouthed along Brian's collar bone, humming slightly in the back of his throat and Brian suddenly felt sick. He pushed Justin away, ignoring the look of hurt on Justin's face, the way his hands clenched by his sides, his right hand shaking slightly.
"Shit." Brian ran a hand through his hair. Justin grinned at him, advancing again with a childlike glee shining in his eyes. Brian sidestepped, grabbed his keys from the counter and managed to mutter "I wont be long" before he pulled the door open and all but ran down the stairs, grateful for once that Justin couldn't call after him.
~*~
Brian had been gone too long. Justin could feel it in his bones, a deep down ache of absence as the clock on Brian’s side table blinked red, taunting numbers that Justin tried hard not to look at.
His skin still buzzed from where Brian had touched him, Brian had shuddered against him, his skin tasting like anger and sorrow and Justin licked his lips, pressing his hand to his temple as the lack of Brian made his brain hurt.
He needed Brian here, needed him to wrap his arms around Justin so he could sleep, so tired. But Brian had looked at him, eyes dark, as he walked out, leaving the flat empty and the screaming in Justin’s head got louder.
The clock blinked again and Justin clenched his hand around it, threw it to the floor. It blinked once then died, lights going out and Justin cocked his head to the side, wondering if Brian hadn’t been there if Justin would have blinked once then died.
Justin knew where Brian was, and all he had to do was open the door and walk through it. His hand shook as he stepped over the broken clock, dodging the pieces of broken plastic. His skin prickled with fear and sweat as he pulled the door open, his fingers clinging to the handle for as long as possible as he stumbled out into the hallway.
It was cold outside. It hit him hard, a frozen wall of frigid air in his lungs as he took a deep breath, hand still shaking as he pushed it into his pocket. He knew the way to Babylon with his eyes closed, but the roads seemed different now, colours brighter and noises louder as he walked, one-two, one-two, one foot in front of the other. It was easy to keep going though when at the end he knew he would find Brian. He flinched at the car horn that blared as he stepped across the road, his hand automatically going to his temple.
He ignored the smiles and hands that greeted him when he got to Babylon, people reaching out, touching, Justin shrugged off the fingers, ignoring the panic that crept, icy cold, up his spine.
There was noise, too much noise, flashes of colour and images catching his eye as Justin walked through the crowd, pushing his way through the sea of people with one objective on his mind. Brian. He needed to find Brian, Brian who made the noise quiet, Brian who had shuddered in his hands a few hours ago. The feeling of panic set in and Justin knew, in the back of his mind, that it would stay there as long as Brian was out of his sight.
Hands and bodies pressed into him, touching him, as the screaming in his head got louder, Justin pressed his hands to his temples.
“Justin? Shit Justin you ok?” Mikey was there, Mikey with worried eyes and tentative hands, pulling Justin’s hands down from his head and getting in Justin’s eye line. “Justin.”
Brian.
Mikey seemed to hear the unspoken word because he nodded, pulled Justin close and manoeuvred them through the crowd of smiling happy people, people so unlike Justin. Justin swallowed down the feeling of dread at the thought that he would never be like that again. That he would be trapped, in this broken body, with a broken mind, for the rest of his life with Brian looking at him with pity and anger and guilt.
“What the fuck Brian?” Justin heard Mikey saying and he felt Mikey’s hand around his arm, pressing into the bruise there. Justin pressed his fingers to his temple, eyes flicking between the writing bodies of the backroom, and Brian’s unreadable expression as he pushed the guy on his knees in front of him away.
“Mikey…” Justin could hear the warning in Brian’s voice and he looked at Brian. Brian looked back, expression still unreadable and Justin wished he could scream at him, hit him with words, make him see how he can’t just walk out like that, not when Justin needs him.
“Jesus, you leave him alone to come get your dick sucked? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mikey asked and Brian wrenched Justin’s arm out of his hands.
“You have no idea Michael.” He said and Justin felt the noise in his head dying down as Brian’s fingers wrapped around his arm. He leant into Brian and felt Brian stiffen slightly. “Come on Justin.”
Justin was safe, he had Brian’s hands on him, Brian was taking him home, Brian was back with him. Justin stopped when Brian did, let Brian cup his face in his hands, his eyes searching Justin’s face, thumb running lightly over his cut. Brian nodded once.
“You’re ok.” He stated and Justin nodded. Justin could feel a shake in Brian’s body and he rubbed Brian’s hands in his own, cupping his fingers in his hands and blowing hot breath on them. Brian grimaced slightly and pulled his hands out of Justin’s grip.
“So you made it all the way by yourself?” Brian asked, looking down at Justin. Justin twisted his hands together and Brian gently bumped his shoulder. Justin nodded, and Brian smiled slightly. For once, Justin heard nothing but silence in his head.
~*~
Brian’s whole body was wound tight, he could still feel Justin’s hands on him, the way Justin had pushed and pushed, till Brian had let him wrap his shaking fingers around him. He was so angry with himself and watched as Justin tried to stop himself pacing, a slight smile on his face and his hand shaking less, fingers clenched around a paintbrush. Brian felt the worry he felt from Babylon replace itself with barely concealed irritation and anger at himself. He shut his eyes against the look on Justin’s face when he came into the backroom, eyes blinking against the sudden darkness, and the relief that flooded Brian’s body when he managed to touch him and make sure that Justin wasn’t hurt.
Justin turned from the window, fingers twitching by his sides, lips moving like he was trying to speak, he curled his hands into Brian’s t-shirt and pulled him close. Brian wrapped his hands around Justin’s arm, pushing him gently. Not again, he was not going to let himself touch Justin again.
“Justin...no. Stop it.” Justin shook his head, anger clouding his face as he stood on tiptoes and leant forward. His knuckles pressing into Brian’s chest. “No.” Brian all but shouted, wrenching himself free and spinning away. Justin frowned, pressed his hand into his temple.
Brian felt tentative fingers at his shoulders, shaking slightly, pressing in and he saw red. He was so angry at Justin for pushing this, so angry at himself for giving in. For not being quick enough when Justin got hurt, for allowing himself to feel anything other than pity for the broken boy who paced his apartment.
“Stop. It.” He ground out, shrugging his shoulder roughly and Justin’s fingers fell away. Brian spun around and faced him, watched at Justin’s face set and he frowned. Brian could almost see it when the walls came up in Justin’s head and he started shaking, strode over to the kitchen. His hand closed around the coffee pot and threw it to the floor. Glass shattered, skittered across the floor as Justin went to pick something else up, eyes searching around for the nearest thing to break to soothe the anger Brian knew was boiling under his skin.
“Yeah ok, why not, smash the place up, that’ll solve everything.” Brian shouted and Justin glared back at him, his fingers shaking as he started pacing, mouth moving like he was trying to say something.
“You’re a coward Justin. You’re a fucking coward.” Justin took a step back as if Brian had hit him, shaking his head, skin almost deathly pale as his hand shook by his side. Brian was sick of walking on eggshells around him, so sick of handling him with kid gloves. He wanted Justin back, the Justin who would smile completely at him, who would argue with him with words, not looks and punches, the Justin who had wormed his way into Brian’s life with sheer will power alone.
“You’re so afraid that you’re going to stay like this,” Brian continued and Justin pressed his hands to his temples, letting out a small whimper, “that you’re not even trying to get better. You’re just content staying here, pacing and rearranging the fucking mugs every time you have a bad day. ” Justin turned away from him, pressed his hands to his temples again and paced the living room. Brian could feel the words bubbling below the surface, the hateful words that he wanted to say, his guilt and anger and pity fuelling him as he took a step forward to Justin, wrapping his fingers around Justin’s arm and pulling him round to face him.
“You’re sick of being like this, right? Well you know what? I’m sick of it too. Grow some fucking balls Justin. Chris Hobbs smashed your head in, don’t let him win by staying this pathetic broken thing,” Brian let him go and Justin stumbled forward slightly, like Brian had been holding him up. “that I can’t bear to look at anymore.” He spat and turned, heading towards the door, needing to get out, away from Justin and his broken gaze, his pacing and organising, his rages and silence.
“Bri...” Justin’s voice was cracked, weeks of disuse, it was quiet but Brian heard it loud and clear, freezing as his hand closed around the door handle.
“That’s not good enough Justin.” Brian knew he was pushing, knew that he was in danger of breaking Justin further, but he kept his back to Justin, no matter how much he wanted to turn around, his knuckles going white as he gripped the handle, hoping his words of disdain had been enough to pull Justin far enough out of his own mind to get him on the road to recovery.
“Bri...Brian.” Brian turned then, looked at Justin gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, his whole body shaking with the effort of speaking. There was anger in his gaze, but a hint of triumph as well and Brian couldn’t help the way he reached out, pulled Justin close. Justin’s fingers gripped at the back of his t-shirt, he mumbled Brian’s name under his breath as he clutched tighter.
“It’s ok.” Brian muttered back, his fingers running through Justin’s hair. And, for the first time since Justin had been broken, he almost believed it.
~*~
It had been a week and they hadn’t progressed much further than “Brian”, “No”, “I’m fine” and “want you.” The last one had been ignored mostly, Brian’s self control still not that of a saint as he looked at the Justin that paced less, the one that seemed less angry and happier, the genuine smiles coming more and more. It was harder to resist when Justin put his hands on Brian, pressed them in and muttered “want you” into Brian’s skin. Brian would just cover his hands with his own, press a kiss to Justin’s mouth and change the subject, ignoring Justin’s frown of confusion.
Justin still had moments of rage, hands curling into fists at his sides but the mugs remained in disarray and nothing had been broken for the whole week. Brian sometimes caught Justin pacing though, counting under his breath, but he would stop when he saw Brian, look embarrassed until Brian would pull him close and Justin's arms would wind around Brian's waist.
The nightmares were getting better, not as violent, Justin only woke once a night now, pressing himself to Brian as Brian held him close and whispered into his ear, meaningless words, fingers stroking through Justin's hair.
“Brian.” Justin said and Brian shook his head, clearing it, as Justin wound his arms around him, his head resting on Brian's shoulder. Brian put down his work, covered Justin's clasped hands in his own. “Want you.” Justin said, nosing at the skin behind Brian's ear. Brian sighed, stood, tried not to shudder as Justin's hands trailed down his chest.
“You hungry?” Brian asked and Justin sidestepped with him, staying in front of Brian, pressing his hand to Brian's chest.
“Why?” Justin asked, frowning slightly at the new word. “They're...words are coming. Memories, here.” He said, tapping the side of his head gently. “I know.” It was like Justin was learning a foreign language, his words stilted, sticking every now and then till Justin shook his head and they became unstuck. It was a testament to how far wrapped up in Justin Brian was that he got everything Justin was trying to say. Justin sighed, fingers playing with the buttons on Brian's shirt. Brian swallowed as Justin's wormed them inside and they stroked over Brian's skin. “Need you Brian.”
Brian had always known if they were going to do this again that Justin would have to be the one to make the first move, but he had never expected it to be so soon. But Justin was undoing his buttons, fingers sure with only a hint of shake in his right hand, his eyes steady on Brian's as he stood on tiptoes and kissed at the base of Brian's throat.
“Justin...”
“S'ok.” Justin grinned, his hands slipping the shirt off Brian's shoulders, his right hand shaking slightly. Brian cupped his face in his hands, feeling Justin's strong pulse under his palm. “It's ok.” Justin said again and Brian nodded slightly, pulling him closer and kissing him, the taste of Justin so familiar and still so Justin.
There were still cracks and Justin was still not mended completely, but Brian could almost see the breaks knitting together before his eyes.
It wasn't quite ok yet, but it nearly was, and that was enough right now.
.
I don't know what I feel, you need close, but you never get near, I'm a mess and you're oh so clear, so God please make this easier...
This is not happy, it has a hopeful ending, but it has Broken!Justin, and what could be loosely described as Dissociative Identity Disorder. Set after the Bashing.
The nightmares were getting worse.
They happened every time Justin fell asleep now. Not just in the dark of night when he was afraid of the shadows in the loft, afraid to close his eyes. Now it was in the bright sunshine, when he fell asleep on the couch, sleeping off the latest cocktail of pills given to calm him down, pills that made him feel numb, made his mind and memories fuzzy.
He would wake, shaking and sweating, brain and skin humming with panic and fear, head pounding. Brian would always be there though, arms snaking round him, holding him close as the fog lifted and he finally realised where he was. Brian had taken to working from home unless he had a meeting. And only if no one else could do it would he leave, throwing nervous glances at Justin as he walked out of the door.
Justin didn’t sleep when Brian wasn’t there.
He just paced. Organised the mugs because they had to be in height order and Brian always forgot. Twist his hands together and say the words he would say to Chris Hobbs in his head if he ever worked up the courage to speak to him.
Not that he spoke to anyone anymore.
Not even Brian. Words just stuck in his throat, stuck with fear. His brain just didn’t work properly anymore. Sometimes it made him mad and he would lash out, throw things, scream insults at Brian in his head, wishing the words weren’t stuck and he could hurt Brian with more than just punches.
Brian would just stare at him, eyes dark, fingers twitching by his sides and Justin would know, even through the haze of anger and drugs, that Brian wanted to hit him back, wanted to punch the words and memories back into Justin’s brain. Make him who he was before.
Justin pressed the heels of his hands to his temples, pressing hard enough to hurt, ignoring the sharp pain as he pressed hard against the cut, rocking slightly. He felt trapped in his own head, his body hurting from the absence of Brian.
He was never going to be who he was before.
~*~
“So how’s he doing?” Cynthia asked, passing Brian the folder. Brian sighed.
“The whole thing fucking sucks.” He said and Cynthia grimaced sympathetically. “But I’m not some whining muncher so let’s get this meeting over with, so I can get back and fix what damage he’s done.” He grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and plastered his “I’m Brian Fucking Kinney” grin of his face and pushed the door open.
Work had become less of an importance to Brian since the bashing, since Chris Hobbs had taken away Justin. Even though Justin was still there, still pacing his flat, no doubt placing the mugs in height order over and over again, pressing them back against the wall, turning the handles to the same angle, it wasn’t the proud, sure, grinning Justin that Brian had danced with at the prom. It was a shell, an angry, shaking, mute shell.
He felt helpless sometimes, watching Justin in a rage, pressing his fingers to his sides to stop from lashing back at him. Watching Justin’s face contort with anger and frustration as the words, insults, he wanted to say just wouldn’t come.
It was no secret that Brian was a control freak, liked being on top, in all senses of the word, liked it when things went his way. Which is why this whole situation made him feel uneasy and frustrated. There was no way to talk himself out of it, no one he could pay to make it go away, or make it better.
No one to blame except himself. He put Justin in danger, he sat frozen for a second too long before calling out, he spent too long kicking Chris when he should have been holding Justin’s blood in his body, pressing his hands to the wound on his head. Brian screwed up his eyes at the barrage of images, flashes of red, blood on white silk, under his nails, Justin deathly pale in the ambulance. He tried to forget the stricken look on Jennifer’s face when the doctors said he may never be the same. Brian knew how difficult it was to look at someone who you used to think was perfect, and only see cracks and mars, had seen the same look on Jennifer’s face as she stood by his bed, Justin’s limp hand in hers, blame in her eyes as she stared at Brian.
Justin was pacing when Brian got back to the apartment, taking a deep breath as he pulled the door open. The pacing stopped immediately and Justin was on him, hands pressing into Brian’s skin like he was reassuring himself that Brian was actually there, not part of a waking nightmare about to turn on him. Brian grimaced as the memory of the first time Justin ran to him came flooding back.
The pounding on the door had been frantic and Brian had groaned as he lifted himself out of bed, eyes heavy and fingers curling round the scarf around his neck automatically as he had pulled the door open. Justin had been on him in a second, hands clutching and Brian took a step back, wrapped his fingers around Justin’s arms.
“Hey. Justin.” Justin’s eyes were wide, one hand clutching hard, the other loosely, like it didn’t have the strength to grip as hard as he wants. “What’s going on?” Brian had asked, immediately mentally kicking himself, Justin didn’t talk anymore, the nurse at the hospital had told him when she caught him staring at Justin through the glass in his door. Justin had shaken his head once, and Brian caught sight of the ugly gash at his temple, red and angry and had pulled Justin close, ignoring the way his whole body had shaken as he slumped against him.
Brian shook his head clear of the memory as he hooked his fingers under Justin’s chin, lifted his face upwards. Justin’s eyes wide with panic, like Brian had been gone for days instead of a couple of hours. Brian ran his fingers over the slowly healing gash on Justin’s temple and Justin jerked his head away, pulled away from Brian and went back to pacing, biting on his thumb nail.
The mugs were immaculate, handles all facing to the right and Brian sighed heavily, a tiny amount of relief flooding through him as he noticed nothing broken. He had come back to broken china strewn over the floor a number of times, a few small cuts on Justin’s hands as he crouched on the floor surrounded with tiny shard of broken china, his face confused and worried.
The phone ringing made Justin jump and Brian managed to pull him close, murmur “it’s ok” into his ear before he answered it.
“Yeah.”
“That bad huh?” Mikey asked. Brian sighed again, letting go of Justin as he wound his fingers into Brian's short, unable, or unwilling to let go just yet. Brian couldn’t find it in him to care about the wrinkles. So much about his life had changed since Justin had come into it.
“Yeah.” He agreed and Mikey sighed.
“I was going to suggest I come round with a movie but it’s probably not the right time, right?” He asked.
“Not tonight.” Brian said and Justin let go, started pacing, his lips working like he was trying to say something. “Maybe tomorrow?” Brian suggested, eyes watching Justin walk up and down in front of the couch.
“Yeah ok, call me if you need anything.” Brian appreciated it, he really did, but the constant hovering of friends was getting on his nerves. It made Justin jumpy every time the phone rang, and made Brian angry at the sympathy. He didn’t want sympathy, he wasn’t doing it for that. He wanted Justin back.
At first it had been guilt, eating away at him that had made him take Justin in after Jennifer had begged. She came, embarrassed, to his door, saying Justin needed him, he wouldn’t let anyone close, kept writing Brian’s name, loose grip on the pencil going over and over the lines of the word, hand writing like a child learning to write for the first time, shaking and scratchy. Maybe Brian could help. Brian had wanted to ask her what kind of mother she was for giving up her broken son to the one person who had helped in getting him broken, but he knew how difficult it must have been to look at Justin and only see how perfect he used to be.
Justin had worked his way into Brian’s life before, now he was so far in, all jagged edges, catching on Brian, snagging on his insides, that there was never anyway he would let him go, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. The guilt was still heavy and bitter in his stomach.
It wasn’t just guilt now though, it was those tiny moments when he would see the old Justin, a small smile thrown at Brian, the way he would sometimes stare out of the window, paintbrush in hand like he was seeking inspiration. Brian could almost forget that he was doing it for comfort, that his hand had too much nerve damage to paint. Brian would just stop, stare at Justin, realise that deep down he cared deeply for the broken boy who was now pacing furiously, rage starting to build up again.
Brian shrugged off his jacket and folded up his sleeves, prepared himself for the worst as Justin picked up a plate from the counter.
~*~
Justin could feel it building, the silent anger, slowly coiling in his belly like snakes, all wriggly and squirming. It made him hot, made his skin itch like he wanted to scratch it off with his nails, peel it back and fix the broken nerves underneath. His temple throbbed as he paced, counting the steps from one end of the apartment to the other. There were normally 15 but Justin could make it in 12 if he tried. 12, the smallest number with 6 divisors. Justin had never been very good at Math, not interested in numbers when pictures, smooth lines of a painting, had calmed him enough before he broke, but it seemed to calm him now, there was no grey, just black and white, it helped him when he paced, reciting the tables in his head.
There was a plate in his hand, china cool against his palm. There were crumbs on it, like someone had eaten off it. But Justin couldn’t remember eating. He frowned at it, head cocked to the side.
“Justin...” Brian’s voice was soft amidst the screaming in his head. The urge to throw the plate on the floor, make it as broken as he was, watch at it splintered into tiny pieces, was almost overwhelming and Justin shut his eyes, squeezed them tight and felt Brian’s hands on him, uncurling his fingers from the plate and placing it back on the counter. “Hit me.” Brian said and Justin snapped his eyes open, body vibrating against the rage. He didn’t want this, didn’t ask for any of this, didn’t want to hurt Brian anymore. He lifted his shaking hands, and Brian flinched. Through the red mist Justin knew this was wrong, this wasn’t how it was meant to be but he couldn’t stop himself from curling his hands into fist, the right one shaking more than the left.
His fist connected with the counter and Justin felt the sharp pain blossom up his arm. It wasn’t enough though, not enough to make the pain in his head stop and he hit it again. Brian caught his hand when he went to hit it the third time, pulling it back and spinning them. He trapped Justin between the counter and his body and Justin pushed, hard. Brian’s hands around his clenched fist tightened and held on, pulling Justin tight against him and he struggled, struggled away, needed to get away, to think, to breathe. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Brian was taunting him, pushing him and Justin reacted, pulled his left fist back and struck, sending Brian stumbling backwards.
Justin bit back a sob as he wound his fingers into Brian’s t-shirt, pulling him close. Brian flinched again and Justin’s anger kicked up a notch, he needed to explain, wanted to say the words that kept getting stuck in his throat but the only noise he could make was a low growl as he let Brian go and walked across the apartment. The average human brain had twelve cranial nerves, Justin remembered that from Biology, and he wondered how many of his were broken beyond repair. Twelve nerves, twelve steps. Justin kept going, spinning on his heel and pressing his hand to his temple.
“Justin, let me see that hand.” Brian’s voice was close behind him and Justin jumped again, spinning around, feeling his head take longer to catch up. Brian’s eyes were right there and he held his hand out, palm up, like he was approaching a wild animal.
Justin held his hand closer to him, shaking his head once no please don’t touch me, I cant... and Brian took a step forward, gently touching his arm.
~*~
Justin looked like a cornered animal, his eyes wide, clutching at his bleeding hand. Brian’s cheek ached but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t cope with, he’d had worse. There was one time when Justin had attacked him with the lamp as he walked through the door.
It wasn’t always bad though, sometimes Justin was in a good mood, he would welcome Brian home with a smile, a gentle touch on his arm, the coffee cups would be in disarray and Justin wouldn’t be pacing. He would be happy when Mikey came over, arms filled with popcorn and movies and they would all bundle onto the couch, Justin curled up to Brian, fingers tangled in the hem of Brian’s t-shirt, almost to anchor himself. Brian would feel the tremble in his body though, would turn off the TV and Mikey would smile sadly, leave with the usual “call me if you need anything” and Brian would shut the door and ready himself for the anger.
Brian just kept looking at Justin, holding his hand out, until Justin seemed to calm, placed his hand in Brian’s. The skin on the knuckles was broken and the blood had started to clot. Brian pulled gently and Justin bit on his bottom lip, nodding once as he allowed Brian to walk them towards to the kitchen.
Justin flinched as the antiseptic touched his broken skin and tried to pull away but Brian held on tight, wiped gently at his knuckles until all the blood was gone and he was able to wrap a bandage around his hand. Justin stared at it, fingers flexing and looked up, grinned at Brian like a child. His smile bright like he wanted to show off his war wound to his friends. He jumped off the stool and wandered into the bedroom.
Brian couldn’t get used to the mood swings. They were quick like tropical rainfall. One minute there was bright sunshine, the next a raging storm. He sighed as he followed Justin, found him pulling his t-shirt over his head. There was a bruise on his shoulder and Brian remembered Justin slamming his shoulder into the wall repeatedly the other day, like he was trying to break through his own walls in his head.
Justin grinned at him again as he crawled into the bed, held the covers open in an invitation. Brian got in next to him and lifted his arm as Justin settled in, shifting around till he was comfortable. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to Brian’s mouth. Brian froze, his hands twitching with the need to cup his face and kiss him back. It was the first real contact they had since the bashing, and everything before came flooding back, Justin’s moans, the feel of being inside him, Justin’s mouth around his cock.
Justin pulled away, eyes swimming slightly, cocked his head to the side as if contemplating doing it again. Brian pulled the covers up, wrapped them around Justin.
“Go to sleep.” He said and Justin clutched at him, his eyes going wide and scared. Brian sighed and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s ok.” He muttered and Justin sniffed, shook his head but closed his eyes, buried his head against Brian’s chest.
Brian’s lips tingled where Justin had kissed him and his fingers itched to touch his skin, to run down his sides and watched the way he would twitch as they ran over his ribs. Brian wanted to fuck him, wake up smelling of Justin and shower plastered together, pressing Justin into the cool glass.
He closed his eyes, sighing as he felt Justin shift into sleep, his body going lax against him. Brian moved gently, untangling himself from Justin’s limpet like grip and walked gently into his living room. The lights from the city shone through the huge window as Brian stood in front of it, cigarette dangling from his fingers. He cast his eyes to Justin as Justin shifted, let out a small moan in his sleep. Brian sighed again, pressing his fingers to his forehead and waited for inevitable nightmare.
~*~
There was something waiting for him in the dark. A menacing presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His hands were sticky with blood, dark red and he could taste it in the back of his throat, smell it. It was his blood, and he could see himself lying on the concrete, like a movie only he was really there, really seeing his body lying broken and bleeding. Chris was there too, hanging in the shadows, a dark menacing grin on his face and Justin shuddered, tried to run, turned on his heel, his feet slipping on his blood on the floor, stumbling to the ground. Chris towering over him with the bat, words of hatred slipping from his mouth and he draws the bat up, swings it down at Justin...
“Hey...Justin wake up.” Brian’s hands were on him but Justin struggled against the heavy feeling in his chest, the panic, the way his skin buzzed with fear. He pushed Brian away, sitting up and wiping the sweat from his face. The buzzing got worse when Brian let go, his hands slipping from Justin’s skin and Justin needed him back, needed to feel him. Grabbing his hands, Justin pressed them into his skin, held them to his chest as Brian looked at him, confusion swimming in his gaze.
Justin nodded his head. I need you to touch me. He was so desperate to tell Brian that, but the words stayed stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard as Brian relaxed slightly, curling his fingers into Justin’s skin.
Justin leant forward, brushing his face over Brian’s, rubbing his cheek against Brian’s, Justin stubble catching slightly. It felt good to be close to him, the humming in his brain quieting when he was touching Brian. Brian was still though, like a statue and Justin needed him to move, needed him to press them both into the mattress. He wanted to taste Brian again. He lifted his face, pressing his lips to Brian again. Brian tasted safe, and Justin wanted to crawl inside and never let go, curl up and forget the rest of the world and the bad things that lurked in the dark.
“What are you doing Justin?” Brian asked, his voice right next to Justin’s ear. Justin pulled back, narrowed his eyes slightly.
You’re all I see. Justin needed Brian to see that, needed Brian to know that he was mostly himself when Brian was touching him, he felt the fog lifting when Brian was close.
“No.” Brian pushed him away. Justin felt him slipping through his fingers.
~*~
It took all Brian had, every ounce of strength, to push Justin away. There was a desperate need in his eyes but Brian couldn’t let himself go down that road, couldn’t give into the need he felt in his own body when Justin pressed his hands to him.
Justin’s hands clutched at him, his eyes going wide and panicked and Brian uncurled his fingers from his t-shirt, pulled him close and lay back down. Let Justin shudder against him and his hand pressed into Brian’s skin, always moving, palm hot against Brian’s chest, like he needed to know Brian was still there and it wasn’t enough to just touch, he had to stroke, curl his fingers, press his short nails in. Brian stopped his hand, held it still and Justin stiffened, his body vibrating. It was always difficult to keep him still when he was like this but Brian just held on, his lips tingling again.
“It’s ok.” He assured, feeling Justin relax slightly. “Go back to sleep.” Justin made a noise in the back of his throat and Brian felt the frustration in him as he tried to say something. “It’s ok.” He said again and Justin shook his head, his hair brushing against Brian’s cheek.
It’s not ok. Brian heard the words loud and clear and tightened his grip in Justin.
“Yeah, I know it’s not.”
~*~
Brian didn’t want him. Brian pushed him away, turned his back and took his touches away. Justin was broken and no one wanted him. Justin had woken up smelling of Brian, his skin sticky where it had been pressed up against him. Brian had ignored him most of the day, left Justin’s pills on the counter and Justin had scattered them to the floor in anger, pacing as Brian sighed and picked them up, pushed them into Justin’s hands. Justin shook his head, pouted like a child, but took them, even though they left him dull and struggling to find which way was up. Brian wanted him to take them. Justin stuck out his tongue to show Brian he’d swallowed them, smile playing on his lips. Brian smiled back, the smile that never reached his eyes.
Brian left for work late afternoon with a worried glance and a kiss to his forehead. Justin had clung to him, fingers caught in Brian’s jacket, Brian’s face silently pleading with him to let go.
“I’ll be back in an hour.” He promised and Justin had let go, started pacing as Brian walked out, fingers pressing into his temple, the dull throbbing starting again.
Justin was on step 11 when there was a knock on the door. He jumped, panic flooding his veins as he took another step, make it even, 12, the maximum wind speed of a hurricane, and pressed his hands to the door. There was another knock and Justin pulled it open, hands shaking as he clung to it.
“Uh, package for...” The guy looked down at his clipboard and Justin cocked his head. “Justin Taylor?” Justin closed his eyes. He’s used to be Justin Taylor. Used to be the bright, happy Sunshine Justin Taylor that smiled. He wasn’t Justin Taylor any more. Just Justin. Broken, messed up, Justin.
He shook his head once but held out his shaking hand right hand, clenching it into a fist once before the guy frowned and put the clipboard in his hand.
“Just sign right there.” He said and Justin bit his lip, his fingers shaking as he tried to hold the pen. It skittered out of his hands, clattered to the floor. The guy bent and picked it up, taking the clipboard from his hands. “You know what? Don’t worry about signing, it’s ok.” Justin was so sick of people telling him it was ok. It wasn’t ok, it was never going to be ok. The guy pressed the package into his hands and backed away.
Justin held the small package in his hands. He could make out the words Justin Taylor on it in one handwriting, Brian’s address in another, his mother’s. He frowned as he remembered the way his mother had looked at him before she had given him to Brian, full of guilt and self hatred. His hand shook more as he ripped open the package and a small note fluttered out onto the floor.
I don’t know if this will help or not but I think you should see it. Love always, Daphne.
Justin tried to smile as he remembered Daphne, but the smile stuck on his face as he pulled out the shining DVD. His reflection was distorted, and Justin couldn’t help but think that was what he looked like now, misshapen, and his cut stood out stark against his blonde hair and pale skin.
The image on the TV was shaky, blurry and out of focus and Justin squinted at the scene. Background noise of people laughing and music and images of people smiling. Then he saw them. Brian and Justin, walking through the crowd and the background noise stopped, nobody laughed, nobody smiled. And then Brian took Justin in his arms and Justin smiled. The old Justin Taylor smile, bright and real and whole. They were spinning, spinning and Justin wondered how he managed to say on his feet. But Brian’s arms were around him, holding him tight so of course he stayed on his feet.
“Justin, what are you...” Brian’s voice was low, he sounded worried and Justin froze, watched the small shaky video as the TV Brian pulled Justin Taylor through the crowd again and the video stopped, Chris Hobbs’ angry expression frozen on the screen for a second before it went blank.
“Justin.” Brian tried again but Justin was stuck, his eyes frozen to the screen as a screaming started in his head and his temple throbbed.
He remembered. He remembered Brian’s lips against his, kissing him in front of everyone, Brian smiling against his mouth, wrapping the white silk around his neck and pulling him closer, Brain’s jeep hard against his back.
He remembered smiling at Brian, being bright and happy. Whole. Brian smiling back. Brian doesn’t smile anymore. Then a flash, a stab of pain and then nothing. Justin closed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, almost listening, he could hear Brian shouting, shouting his name and he didn’t know if it was now, in the apartment, or then, Brian over him, pressing his hands into Justin’s head.
Through the noise and screaming he could feel Brian. Brian pulled him close, both of them shaking.
Justin was whole back then, with Brian kissing him, he was happy, and so was Brian. He needed that again.
Brian tasted of worry when Justin kissed him, Brian’s body stiffening and his hands wrapping around Justin’s arms, pushing him gently.
“No Justin.” Brian said, but Justin needed.
Don’t you get it? He wanted to scream, this is the only way I feel whole.
Brian didn’t look at him anymore, not in the way that he did back then and Justin needed him to look at him that way again. He needed to feel Brian under his hands. Brian’s muscles tensed under Justin’s touch, but Justin kept on, pressed his hands firmly to Brian, pushing them under Brian’s t-shirt, his skin warm against Justin’s palms.
“No.” Brian said again, his fingers sliding around Justin’s wrists. Justin pushed on, leaning closer, pressing his lips to the hollow in Brian’s throat. Brian shivered under his touch and his grip loosened.
~*~
Against his better judgement Brian felt his grip loosen around Justin’s wrist, his fingers slipping against his skin. Justin leant forward, pressing his hand closer, his palm warm and slightly damp against the skin of his chest. He’s missed it, the feel of Justin close, the way Justin’s body felt pressed up against his. Justin’s hand snaked lower and Brian ignored the way his mind screamed at him to stop it, Justin was broken and say what you wanted about Brian, he didn’t take advantage of people who didn’t know what they were doing.
He knew Justin felt like he needed to be close, he could see it in Justin’s eyes when Brian allowed himself to touch him, almost like Justin felt grounded when Brian was around. And Brian knew that Justin could sleep only when Brian had his arms around him. This was just Justin’s broken way of putting that information into actions.
Justin’s hand slipped lower and Brian tightened his grip again.
“Justin stop.” He managed to get out, whispered and he felt Justin shake his head. Brian had never had to be the one to stop, to slow down and he felt his resolve slipping as Justin wormed his hand into his pants, fingers grazing at the top of Brian’s cock. Justin grunted and Brian snapped his eyes to his. It was the closest Justin could manage to "let me" and Brian could read it in his eyes. Justin's fingers curled around him and Brian felt every argument dissipate, nothing but the feel of Justin's hand moving slowly, awkwardly, over his cock seemed to matter. Brian tightened his fingers around Justin's wrist, his other hand slipping into Justin's hair. Justin sucked in a breath as Brian's fingers skimmed over the cut on his temple but he carried on.
When his orgasm hit, it tasted like regret, bitter in the back of Brian's throat as Justin shivered along with him, hips twitching, cock pulsing in Justin’s curled fingers. Justin mouthed along Brian's collar bone, humming slightly in the back of his throat and Brian suddenly felt sick. He pushed Justin away, ignoring the look of hurt on Justin's face, the way his hands clenched by his sides, his right hand shaking slightly.
"Shit." Brian ran a hand through his hair. Justin grinned at him, advancing again with a childlike glee shining in his eyes. Brian sidestepped, grabbed his keys from the counter and managed to mutter "I wont be long" before he pulled the door open and all but ran down the stairs, grateful for once that Justin couldn't call after him.
~*~
Brian had been gone too long. Justin could feel it in his bones, a deep down ache of absence as the clock on Brian’s side table blinked red, taunting numbers that Justin tried hard not to look at.
His skin still buzzed from where Brian had touched him, Brian had shuddered against him, his skin tasting like anger and sorrow and Justin licked his lips, pressing his hand to his temple as the lack of Brian made his brain hurt.
He needed Brian here, needed him to wrap his arms around Justin so he could sleep, so tired. But Brian had looked at him, eyes dark, as he walked out, leaving the flat empty and the screaming in Justin’s head got louder.
The clock blinked again and Justin clenched his hand around it, threw it to the floor. It blinked once then died, lights going out and Justin cocked his head to the side, wondering if Brian hadn’t been there if Justin would have blinked once then died.
Justin knew where Brian was, and all he had to do was open the door and walk through it. His hand shook as he stepped over the broken clock, dodging the pieces of broken plastic. His skin prickled with fear and sweat as he pulled the door open, his fingers clinging to the handle for as long as possible as he stumbled out into the hallway.
It was cold outside. It hit him hard, a frozen wall of frigid air in his lungs as he took a deep breath, hand still shaking as he pushed it into his pocket. He knew the way to Babylon with his eyes closed, but the roads seemed different now, colours brighter and noises louder as he walked, one-two, one-two, one foot in front of the other. It was easy to keep going though when at the end he knew he would find Brian. He flinched at the car horn that blared as he stepped across the road, his hand automatically going to his temple.
He ignored the smiles and hands that greeted him when he got to Babylon, people reaching out, touching, Justin shrugged off the fingers, ignoring the panic that crept, icy cold, up his spine.
There was noise, too much noise, flashes of colour and images catching his eye as Justin walked through the crowd, pushing his way through the sea of people with one objective on his mind. Brian. He needed to find Brian, Brian who made the noise quiet, Brian who had shuddered in his hands a few hours ago. The feeling of panic set in and Justin knew, in the back of his mind, that it would stay there as long as Brian was out of his sight.
Hands and bodies pressed into him, touching him, as the screaming in his head got louder, Justin pressed his hands to his temples.
“Justin? Shit Justin you ok?” Mikey was there, Mikey with worried eyes and tentative hands, pulling Justin’s hands down from his head and getting in Justin’s eye line. “Justin.”
Brian.
Mikey seemed to hear the unspoken word because he nodded, pulled Justin close and manoeuvred them through the crowd of smiling happy people, people so unlike Justin. Justin swallowed down the feeling of dread at the thought that he would never be like that again. That he would be trapped, in this broken body, with a broken mind, for the rest of his life with Brian looking at him with pity and anger and guilt.
“What the fuck Brian?” Justin heard Mikey saying and he felt Mikey’s hand around his arm, pressing into the bruise there. Justin pressed his fingers to his temple, eyes flicking between the writing bodies of the backroom, and Brian’s unreadable expression as he pushed the guy on his knees in front of him away.
“Mikey…” Justin could hear the warning in Brian’s voice and he looked at Brian. Brian looked back, expression still unreadable and Justin wished he could scream at him, hit him with words, make him see how he can’t just walk out like that, not when Justin needs him.
“Jesus, you leave him alone to come get your dick sucked? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mikey asked and Brian wrenched Justin’s arm out of his hands.
“You have no idea Michael.” He said and Justin felt the noise in his head dying down as Brian’s fingers wrapped around his arm. He leant into Brian and felt Brian stiffen slightly. “Come on Justin.”
Justin was safe, he had Brian’s hands on him, Brian was taking him home, Brian was back with him. Justin stopped when Brian did, let Brian cup his face in his hands, his eyes searching Justin’s face, thumb running lightly over his cut. Brian nodded once.
“You’re ok.” He stated and Justin nodded. Justin could feel a shake in Brian’s body and he rubbed Brian’s hands in his own, cupping his fingers in his hands and blowing hot breath on them. Brian grimaced slightly and pulled his hands out of Justin’s grip.
“So you made it all the way by yourself?” Brian asked, looking down at Justin. Justin twisted his hands together and Brian gently bumped his shoulder. Justin nodded, and Brian smiled slightly. For once, Justin heard nothing but silence in his head.
~*~
Brian’s whole body was wound tight, he could still feel Justin’s hands on him, the way Justin had pushed and pushed, till Brian had let him wrap his shaking fingers around him. He was so angry with himself and watched as Justin tried to stop himself pacing, a slight smile on his face and his hand shaking less, fingers clenched around a paintbrush. Brian felt the worry he felt from Babylon replace itself with barely concealed irritation and anger at himself. He shut his eyes against the look on Justin’s face when he came into the backroom, eyes blinking against the sudden darkness, and the relief that flooded Brian’s body when he managed to touch him and make sure that Justin wasn’t hurt.
Justin turned from the window, fingers twitching by his sides, lips moving like he was trying to speak, he curled his hands into Brian’s t-shirt and pulled him close. Brian wrapped his hands around Justin’s arm, pushing him gently. Not again, he was not going to let himself touch Justin again.
“Justin...no. Stop it.” Justin shook his head, anger clouding his face as he stood on tiptoes and leant forward. His knuckles pressing into Brian’s chest. “No.” Brian all but shouted, wrenching himself free and spinning away. Justin frowned, pressed his hand into his temple.
Brian felt tentative fingers at his shoulders, shaking slightly, pressing in and he saw red. He was so angry at Justin for pushing this, so angry at himself for giving in. For not being quick enough when Justin got hurt, for allowing himself to feel anything other than pity for the broken boy who paced his apartment.
“Stop. It.” He ground out, shrugging his shoulder roughly and Justin’s fingers fell away. Brian spun around and faced him, watched at Justin’s face set and he frowned. Brian could almost see it when the walls came up in Justin’s head and he started shaking, strode over to the kitchen. His hand closed around the coffee pot and threw it to the floor. Glass shattered, skittered across the floor as Justin went to pick something else up, eyes searching around for the nearest thing to break to soothe the anger Brian knew was boiling under his skin.
“Yeah ok, why not, smash the place up, that’ll solve everything.” Brian shouted and Justin glared back at him, his fingers shaking as he started pacing, mouth moving like he was trying to say something.
“You’re a coward Justin. You’re a fucking coward.” Justin took a step back as if Brian had hit him, shaking his head, skin almost deathly pale as his hand shook by his side. Brian was sick of walking on eggshells around him, so sick of handling him with kid gloves. He wanted Justin back, the Justin who would smile completely at him, who would argue with him with words, not looks and punches, the Justin who had wormed his way into Brian’s life with sheer will power alone.
“You’re so afraid that you’re going to stay like this,” Brian continued and Justin pressed his hands to his temples, letting out a small whimper, “that you’re not even trying to get better. You’re just content staying here, pacing and rearranging the fucking mugs every time you have a bad day. ” Justin turned away from him, pressed his hands to his temples again and paced the living room. Brian could feel the words bubbling below the surface, the hateful words that he wanted to say, his guilt and anger and pity fuelling him as he took a step forward to Justin, wrapping his fingers around Justin’s arm and pulling him round to face him.
“You’re sick of being like this, right? Well you know what? I’m sick of it too. Grow some fucking balls Justin. Chris Hobbs smashed your head in, don’t let him win by staying this pathetic broken thing,” Brian let him go and Justin stumbled forward slightly, like Brian had been holding him up. “that I can’t bear to look at anymore.” He spat and turned, heading towards the door, needing to get out, away from Justin and his broken gaze, his pacing and organising, his rages and silence.
“Bri...” Justin’s voice was cracked, weeks of disuse, it was quiet but Brian heard it loud and clear, freezing as his hand closed around the door handle.
“That’s not good enough Justin.” Brian knew he was pushing, knew that he was in danger of breaking Justin further, but he kept his back to Justin, no matter how much he wanted to turn around, his knuckles going white as he gripped the handle, hoping his words of disdain had been enough to pull Justin far enough out of his own mind to get him on the road to recovery.
“Bri...Brian.” Brian turned then, looked at Justin gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, his whole body shaking with the effort of speaking. There was anger in his gaze, but a hint of triumph as well and Brian couldn’t help the way he reached out, pulled Justin close. Justin’s fingers gripped at the back of his t-shirt, he mumbled Brian’s name under his breath as he clutched tighter.
“It’s ok.” Brian muttered back, his fingers running through Justin’s hair. And, for the first time since Justin had been broken, he almost believed it.
~*~
It had been a week and they hadn’t progressed much further than “Brian”, “No”, “I’m fine” and “want you.” The last one had been ignored mostly, Brian’s self control still not that of a saint as he looked at the Justin that paced less, the one that seemed less angry and happier, the genuine smiles coming more and more. It was harder to resist when Justin put his hands on Brian, pressed them in and muttered “want you” into Brian’s skin. Brian would just cover his hands with his own, press a kiss to Justin’s mouth and change the subject, ignoring Justin’s frown of confusion.
Justin still had moments of rage, hands curling into fists at his sides but the mugs remained in disarray and nothing had been broken for the whole week. Brian sometimes caught Justin pacing though, counting under his breath, but he would stop when he saw Brian, look embarrassed until Brian would pull him close and Justin's arms would wind around Brian's waist.
The nightmares were getting better, not as violent, Justin only woke once a night now, pressing himself to Brian as Brian held him close and whispered into his ear, meaningless words, fingers stroking through Justin's hair.
“Brian.” Justin said and Brian shook his head, clearing it, as Justin wound his arms around him, his head resting on Brian's shoulder. Brian put down his work, covered Justin's clasped hands in his own. “Want you.” Justin said, nosing at the skin behind Brian's ear. Brian sighed, stood, tried not to shudder as Justin's hands trailed down his chest.
“You hungry?” Brian asked and Justin sidestepped with him, staying in front of Brian, pressing his hand to Brian's chest.
“Why?” Justin asked, frowning slightly at the new word. “They're...words are coming. Memories, here.” He said, tapping the side of his head gently. “I know.” It was like Justin was learning a foreign language, his words stilted, sticking every now and then till Justin shook his head and they became unstuck. It was a testament to how far wrapped up in Justin Brian was that he got everything Justin was trying to say. Justin sighed, fingers playing with the buttons on Brian's shirt. Brian swallowed as Justin's wormed them inside and they stroked over Brian's skin. “Need you Brian.”
Brian had always known if they were going to do this again that Justin would have to be the one to make the first move, but he had never expected it to be so soon. But Justin was undoing his buttons, fingers sure with only a hint of shake in his right hand, his eyes steady on Brian's as he stood on tiptoes and kissed at the base of Brian's throat.
“Justin...”
“S'ok.” Justin grinned, his hands slipping the shirt off Brian's shoulders, his right hand shaking slightly. Brian cupped his face in his hands, feeling Justin's strong pulse under his palm. “It's ok.” Justin said again and Brian nodded slightly, pulling him closer and kissing him, the taste of Justin so familiar and still so Justin.
There were still cracks and Justin was still not mended completely, but Brian could almost see the breaks knitting together before his eyes.
It wasn't quite ok yet, but it nearly was, and that was enough right now.
.