QAF Fic: "The Twelve Years of Christmas" 10/12
Whew! As wonderful as it is to spend Christmas with the fam, it's nice to be back in my own apartment. Home, sweet home! Hope everyone had a lovely holiday with their families and that you didn't eat as much as I did. Grooooooaan. (Cannot WAIT to go to the gym tomorrow!)
Anyway, here's the next year. Thanks so much for the wonderful feedback thus far, and I hope y'all enjoy this one. (jammer1027, I think you'll approve.)
Previous parts are here. :)
Justin tried to hoist the trunk of the tree higher as they struggled along the sidewalk. Brian was in front, completely obscured by the bushy branches of the pine.
“Justin, would you get your end up and help me out here?”
“I am! Your end is lighter, you know.”
Brian grunted and said, “Oh for fuck’s sake. Do you want to switch?”
Justin couldn’t see Brian’s face, but he could imagine his expression. He gritted his teeth. “No, Brian, I don’t want to switch places, I just want you to slow down for a minute so I can get a better grip.” They plodded on and Justin’s boots slipped a bit on the icy sidewalk.
“We’re just about there, so-” Brian came to an abrupt stop, and Justin barely missed getting a pine needle up his nose.
“Brian, I said slow down, not stop.”
Brian didn’t reply, and when he dropped his end of the tree, Justin saw what had made him stop so suddenly. Brian’s mother stood a few feet away, her purse clutched tightly in her hand and a pinched expression on her face.
Brian said nothing, just watched her blankly. Justin looked back and forth between them and wondered if he should break the silence.
“Hello, Brian.” Joan smiled, but it was a grimace that made Justin feel a pang of sadness all the way to his toes.
“Hi, Mom.” Brian gave a mock salute. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
At the mention of “we,” she seemed to see Justin standing there for the first time. Her mouth opened, but quickly snapped shut. Finally she said, “Brian, I wanted to talk-”
“Justin, you remember my mother,” Brian said, staring her down coldly.
Justin smiled faintly. “Yes, of course. Hello, Mrs. Kinney.” He finally dropped the tree trunk and added, “How are you?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Fine, thank you.”
“Mom, you met Justin for the first time that day you dropped by the loft. It was a long time ago, but I’m sure you remember.” Brian infused the last words with unmistakable innuendo.
Justin was sure that his image was probably permanently burned into her retinas, and that Brian needn’t go to the trouble of making her squirm. But he couldn’t blame him for the impulse.
She gave a curt nod and said, “I really do need to speak to you, Brian.”
“About what? As you can see, we’re a little busy with our Christmas tree. It’s not going to decorate itself.”
She sighed and pushed a lock of wiry grey hair from her forehead. She hadn’t aged gracefully in the years since Justin had seen her last, and the deep wrinkles on her face made her look exhausted. He supposed she probably was.
“Well, Mom?”
“I just wanted to see you. It was silly.” She turned and started to make her way down the sidewalk. A moment later she turned around and looked from Brian to Justin and back again. “You’ve really been together all this time? I had heard, but…I wasn’t sure.”
“Yes, we’re together,” Brian said. He pulled his glove off and held up his left hand, his ring gleaming brightly. “All this time. And for the rest of it, too.” He jammed his glove back on. “I’m sure God violently disapproves.”
She stared at him and eventually nodded sadly. “If only you could understand the true happiness you could find with the Lord.”
Brian laughed, hard and brittle. Then he said, “Goodbye, Mother.”
“Goodbye, Brian.” She turned once more and walked away.
They watched her go, and Justin remained silent. It was very rare for Brian to acknowledge the ring, although he wore it every day without fail. Justin knew that Brian’s mother could still upset him like no one else could, and he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He’d get him to talk about it later, but not now.
“Okay, let’s get this damn tree in the house,” Brian said, picking up his end.
Justin lifted the trunk up once more and they staggered a few more steps to the front door and then into the lobby and the elevator. Justin closed the gate as Brian stabbed the button forcefully.
They lurched upwards. Once the tree was in the loft, they took their coats off in silence. Brian tried to pull his boot free, and hopped around before screaming, “Fuck!” His chest heaved and his hands were fists at his sides.
Justin knelt down in front of him and gently pulled the boot from Brian’s foot. He tapped the other foot and Brian lifted it obediently. Brian’s fingers unclenched and found Justin’s hair. When both his boots were off, he reached down and pulled Justin to his feet.
They kissed softly, and Justin whispered, “Let’s go have a shower.”
Brian nodded and they shed their clothes as they made their way to the bathroom. They stayed under the hot spray of water for a long time, the steam so thick Justin could barely see.
But he could feel Brian’s body beneath his hands, his tense muscles relaxing. Could taste him on his tongue, and hear his desperate breath in his ear.
****
It had been five days since Joan’s visit, and each day Justin had casually mentioned her. He thought it was high time that Brian stopped bottling up all his emotions concerning his family, and he figured if he could just get him talking, maybe it would do him some good. So far, Brian didn’t seem to agree. Each time Justin had brought up Joan, Brian had either ignored him or tersely changed the subject.
Brian sat the counter, eating an apple and reading the latest Elizabeth George hardcover mystery. Justin was finishing up stringing lights around the living room, and as he was untangling a string he said, “So, did your mom put up a lot of Christmas decorations when you were a kid?”
He could practically hear Brian’s jaw clench. “Yeah.”
“Cool. I guess she had a lot of Jesus stuff, huh?”
Brian huffed sharply. “Stop it, Justin. I mean it.”
Justin concentrated on a particularly tough knot in the cord and said, “I wonder if your mom-”
“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t want to fucking talk about her!” Brian yelled, as he stood up and whipped his book across the room. It ricocheted off the pole beside Justin and struck him squarely on the right side of his face.
Pain exploded in his cheekbone, and he dropped the lights with a clatter as he groaned. “Fuck!” He reached up to touch his face. “Shit, Brian, watch where you’re fucking throwing things!”
There was no response and he glanced over at where Brian still stood by the counter, unmoving. Asshole. He could at least come over and see if he was okay. Justin stomped off to the bathroom, muttering under his breath.
He rinsed his face with cold water and examined his right cheek, which was an angry red and would probably bruise. There was a quiet sound in the doorway and he took a quick look at Brian before looking back in the mirror.
Brian still didn’t say anything, and Justin shook his head and snorted. That apology could come anytime now. He was about to tell him what a dickhead he was when Brian stretched his arm out towards him. The words died on Justin's tongue when he noticed how Brian's hand trembled. He looked at his face and took in the wide eyes and dry lips.
Shit.
Brian was freaked out.
Brian was really freaked out.
Justin could see something he could only identify as terror on Brian’s face, and all his anger left him like a whoosh of air from a balloon. “Brian, I’m okay.”
Brian seemed unable to get any closer to him, so Justin took a step and grabbed his outstretched hand with his own. The contact seemed to jolt Brian back to life and his other hand moved up to gently touch Justin’s face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” Brian's voice was raw.
“I know,” Justin said, tone soothing. “I know, it’s okay.”
“I’m not like…I’m not like that.” His fingers trailed down to Justin’s lips. “I’m sorry.”
Brian had never really talked about it, aside from a few oblique references over the years. But Justin knew, just like he knew that grass was green and the sky was blue, that Brian’s father had hit him. He also knew that becoming his father was pretty much the one thing Brian Kinney still feared.
Justin pulled him close and ran his hand up his back. “I know you’d never hurt me. Not on purpose. It’s okay. Okay? Just don’t throw stuff. Even when I’m being a dick.”
Brian swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I’d never….” He took a deep breath, and his fingers skimmed Justin’s swelling cheek. “Never.”
“I know.” Justin tried to smile, but he winced instead.
Brian shook his head slightly as if he were shaking off cobwebs. “Go lie down.”
Justin rolled his eyes and tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t get all melodramatic on me. I’m fine.”
Brian turned to the sink and grabbed a face cloth. “Just go lie down, okay?”
Justin decided it was easier not to argue, so he went and stretched out on his back. Soon Brian was kneeling beside the bed, pressing the cool cloth to Justin’s throbbing cheek. He stroked Justin’s hair and watched him closely.
Justin wondered if maybe he was letting him off the hook too easily. But then he glimpsed the haunted look in Brian’s eyes, and he knew that accidents happen. And that this would be the only one.
“Brian.” He reached out and touched his arm. “You can tell me, you know.” He willed him to just let go and open up.
Brian blinked and seemed to hold his breath. After a few seconds that felt like forever, he turned his head away, eyes downcast. Justin sighed and folded his arm back over his stomach.
Later in bed, Brian pressed up behind him and held him tightly, hands light, lips soft and pleading. When Justin was almost asleep, Brian exhaled slowly, and his whispers filled the night.
Anyway, here's the next year. Thanks so much for the wonderful feedback thus far, and I hope y'all enjoy this one. (jammer1027, I think you'll approve.)
Previous parts are here. :)
Justin tried to hoist the trunk of the tree higher as they struggled along the sidewalk. Brian was in front, completely obscured by the bushy branches of the pine.
“Justin, would you get your end up and help me out here?”
“I am! Your end is lighter, you know.”
Brian grunted and said, “Oh for fuck’s sake. Do you want to switch?”
Justin couldn’t see Brian’s face, but he could imagine his expression. He gritted his teeth. “No, Brian, I don’t want to switch places, I just want you to slow down for a minute so I can get a better grip.” They plodded on and Justin’s boots slipped a bit on the icy sidewalk.
“We’re just about there, so-” Brian came to an abrupt stop, and Justin barely missed getting a pine needle up his nose.
“Brian, I said slow down, not stop.”
Brian didn’t reply, and when he dropped his end of the tree, Justin saw what had made him stop so suddenly. Brian’s mother stood a few feet away, her purse clutched tightly in her hand and a pinched expression on her face.
Brian said nothing, just watched her blankly. Justin looked back and forth between them and wondered if he should break the silence.
“Hello, Brian.” Joan smiled, but it was a grimace that made Justin feel a pang of sadness all the way to his toes.
“Hi, Mom.” Brian gave a mock salute. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
At the mention of “we,” she seemed to see Justin standing there for the first time. Her mouth opened, but quickly snapped shut. Finally she said, “Brian, I wanted to talk-”
“Justin, you remember my mother,” Brian said, staring her down coldly.
Justin smiled faintly. “Yes, of course. Hello, Mrs. Kinney.” He finally dropped the tree trunk and added, “How are you?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Fine, thank you.”
“Mom, you met Justin for the first time that day you dropped by the loft. It was a long time ago, but I’m sure you remember.” Brian infused the last words with unmistakable innuendo.
Justin was sure that his image was probably permanently burned into her retinas, and that Brian needn’t go to the trouble of making her squirm. But he couldn’t blame him for the impulse.
She gave a curt nod and said, “I really do need to speak to you, Brian.”
“About what? As you can see, we’re a little busy with our Christmas tree. It’s not going to decorate itself.”
She sighed and pushed a lock of wiry grey hair from her forehead. She hadn’t aged gracefully in the years since Justin had seen her last, and the deep wrinkles on her face made her look exhausted. He supposed she probably was.
“Well, Mom?”
“I just wanted to see you. It was silly.” She turned and started to make her way down the sidewalk. A moment later she turned around and looked from Brian to Justin and back again. “You’ve really been together all this time? I had heard, but…I wasn’t sure.”
“Yes, we’re together,” Brian said. He pulled his glove off and held up his left hand, his ring gleaming brightly. “All this time. And for the rest of it, too.” He jammed his glove back on. “I’m sure God violently disapproves.”
She stared at him and eventually nodded sadly. “If only you could understand the true happiness you could find with the Lord.”
Brian laughed, hard and brittle. Then he said, “Goodbye, Mother.”
“Goodbye, Brian.” She turned once more and walked away.
They watched her go, and Justin remained silent. It was very rare for Brian to acknowledge the ring, although he wore it every day without fail. Justin knew that Brian’s mother could still upset him like no one else could, and he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He’d get him to talk about it later, but not now.
“Okay, let’s get this damn tree in the house,” Brian said, picking up his end.
Justin lifted the trunk up once more and they staggered a few more steps to the front door and then into the lobby and the elevator. Justin closed the gate as Brian stabbed the button forcefully.
They lurched upwards. Once the tree was in the loft, they took their coats off in silence. Brian tried to pull his boot free, and hopped around before screaming, “Fuck!” His chest heaved and his hands were fists at his sides.
Justin knelt down in front of him and gently pulled the boot from Brian’s foot. He tapped the other foot and Brian lifted it obediently. Brian’s fingers unclenched and found Justin’s hair. When both his boots were off, he reached down and pulled Justin to his feet.
They kissed softly, and Justin whispered, “Let’s go have a shower.”
Brian nodded and they shed their clothes as they made their way to the bathroom. They stayed under the hot spray of water for a long time, the steam so thick Justin could barely see.
But he could feel Brian’s body beneath his hands, his tense muscles relaxing. Could taste him on his tongue, and hear his desperate breath in his ear.
****
It had been five days since Joan’s visit, and each day Justin had casually mentioned her. He thought it was high time that Brian stopped bottling up all his emotions concerning his family, and he figured if he could just get him talking, maybe it would do him some good. So far, Brian didn’t seem to agree. Each time Justin had brought up Joan, Brian had either ignored him or tersely changed the subject.
Brian sat the counter, eating an apple and reading the latest Elizabeth George hardcover mystery. Justin was finishing up stringing lights around the living room, and as he was untangling a string he said, “So, did your mom put up a lot of Christmas decorations when you were a kid?”
He could practically hear Brian’s jaw clench. “Yeah.”
“Cool. I guess she had a lot of Jesus stuff, huh?”
Brian huffed sharply. “Stop it, Justin. I mean it.”
Justin concentrated on a particularly tough knot in the cord and said, “I wonder if your mom-”
“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t want to fucking talk about her!” Brian yelled, as he stood up and whipped his book across the room. It ricocheted off the pole beside Justin and struck him squarely on the right side of his face.
Pain exploded in his cheekbone, and he dropped the lights with a clatter as he groaned. “Fuck!” He reached up to touch his face. “Shit, Brian, watch where you’re fucking throwing things!”
There was no response and he glanced over at where Brian still stood by the counter, unmoving. Asshole. He could at least come over and see if he was okay. Justin stomped off to the bathroom, muttering under his breath.
He rinsed his face with cold water and examined his right cheek, which was an angry red and would probably bruise. There was a quiet sound in the doorway and he took a quick look at Brian before looking back in the mirror.
Brian still didn’t say anything, and Justin shook his head and snorted. That apology could come anytime now. He was about to tell him what a dickhead he was when Brian stretched his arm out towards him. The words died on Justin's tongue when he noticed how Brian's hand trembled. He looked at his face and took in the wide eyes and dry lips.
Shit.
Brian was freaked out.
Brian was really freaked out.
Justin could see something he could only identify as terror on Brian’s face, and all his anger left him like a whoosh of air from a balloon. “Brian, I’m okay.”
Brian seemed unable to get any closer to him, so Justin took a step and grabbed his outstretched hand with his own. The contact seemed to jolt Brian back to life and his other hand moved up to gently touch Justin’s face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” Brian's voice was raw.
“I know,” Justin said, tone soothing. “I know, it’s okay.”
“I’m not like…I’m not like that.” His fingers trailed down to Justin’s lips. “I’m sorry.”
Brian had never really talked about it, aside from a few oblique references over the years. But Justin knew, just like he knew that grass was green and the sky was blue, that Brian’s father had hit him. He also knew that becoming his father was pretty much the one thing Brian Kinney still feared.
Justin pulled him close and ran his hand up his back. “I know you’d never hurt me. Not on purpose. It’s okay. Okay? Just don’t throw stuff. Even when I’m being a dick.”
Brian swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I’d never….” He took a deep breath, and his fingers skimmed Justin’s swelling cheek. “Never.”
“I know.” Justin tried to smile, but he winced instead.
Brian shook his head slightly as if he were shaking off cobwebs. “Go lie down.”
Justin rolled his eyes and tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t get all melodramatic on me. I’m fine.”
Brian turned to the sink and grabbed a face cloth. “Just go lie down, okay?”
Justin decided it was easier not to argue, so he went and stretched out on his back. Soon Brian was kneeling beside the bed, pressing the cool cloth to Justin’s throbbing cheek. He stroked Justin’s hair and watched him closely.
Justin wondered if maybe he was letting him off the hook too easily. But then he glimpsed the haunted look in Brian’s eyes, and he knew that accidents happen. And that this would be the only one.
“Brian.” He reached out and touched his arm. “You can tell me, you know.” He willed him to just let go and open up.
Brian blinked and seemed to hold his breath. After a few seconds that felt like forever, he turned his head away, eyes downcast. Justin sighed and folded his arm back over his stomach.
Later in bed, Brian pressed up behind him and held him tightly, hands light, lips soft and pleading. When Justin was almost asleep, Brian exhaled slowly, and his whispers filled the night.