Bleeding Emotions

Chapter 14

Justin lived the kind of life where whenever he got to a point in life where he was truly happy, he got scared.

Justin wasn't allowed to be happy.

He watched Brian cross the living room, cell phone in hand. The other hand was on his chest, as if protecting his bruises. It was Wednesday evening, two days since Justin convinced Brian to stay. He watched Brian talk excitedly. Barely an hour went by that his phone didn't ring. Justin admired the camaraderie, and remembered how he, Daphne, and Emmett had talked so often.

Brian gave Justin a smile before walking towards the hallway leading towards the bedrooms. Brian was always moving.

"Have you two fucked again yet?" Graham asked. Brian rolled his eyes and walked further down the hallway.

"You know, your constant inquiries about my homosexual sexcapades make me doubt your sexuality," Brian teased.

"What homosexual sexcapades, mate? Justin is the first guy you've ever shagged. Oh, and if you ever doubt that I'm all about the pussy, just ask Jules what she did last night."

"Suave."

"Did you shag again, then?"

"No."

"Bloody hell. Why not?"

"I don't know," Brian replied, switching the phone to his other ear. "First it was because I was too sore. And now that I feel better, it just hasn't happened yet. I think we're both scared." He paused, leaning against the wall.

"Don't be scared, mate. Just go for it. You two obviously care about each other, or you wouldn't be living in his flat. He wouldn't have asked you to."

"I know. I like him so much." Brian looked down the hallway before sighing. "I really want to be with him again. I want to do it right."

"Then go for it, you wank." Brian paused to consider this, running his forefinger over his lips.

"You're right."

"Damn right I'm right. Now go. Shag your knob off." Brian laughed and started back down the hallway towards Justin.

"Later, mate." He hung up the phone and dropped on the sofa next to Justin. "I need to start shutting me blower off." At Justin's confused expression, he amended himself. "Me phone." Justin smiled and turned back towards the television.

The sexual tension between them was thick. They both slept in Justin's bed at night, and they always woke up entangled in the morning. They shared brief kisses, but nothing too serious.

Brian wanted to change that.

He had also decided to take a week off from school, for no other reason than to relax. Debbie had also ordered him to take a week off from work, for no other reason than she said so.

Justin also took a week off from his classes. They could both use a little relaxation.

Brian looked over at the blond and nodded, as if deciding something. He smiled and made a dramatic show of falling backwards, his head landing in Justin's lap. The blond looked down in surprise, and then smiled at the expression on Brian's face. His fingers automatically went to Brian's shaggy chestnut hair, combing through it gently.

"This movie bores me," Brian announced. Justin laughed.

"Well, you haven't watched enough to even know what's going on. You keep leaving me to talk on the phone," Justin teased, his fingers running down Brian's nose and over his lips. Brian softly kissed his fingertips and then sat up. He looked into Justin's eyes for a moment before softly pressing his lips against Justin's. The blond responded, but then tensed when Brian tried to slip his tongue between his lips.

The teen pulled away, seemingly offended. Justin lowered his head, not meeting Brian's eyes.

"What's wrong?" Brian asked, placing his hand on Justin's shoulder. Justin shook his head, running his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know," Justin replied. Brian knew it was a lie.

"Do you not want me to kiss you?" Brian asked timidly, biting his bottom lip. Justin shook his head quickly.

"That's not it," Justin whispered, scooting closer to Brian. "I want you to kiss me. I want you to make love to me." Brian gulped.

"Then what's the problem?" He asked. Justin looked down, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "What's wrong, Justin?" Brian asked, reaching out to touch the man's shoulder. Tears fell from Justin's eyes and Brian began to panic. "Justin, tell me."

"I can't," he cried. Brian gently gathered Justin into his arms, and the blond didn't flinch. Instead, he relaxed in Brian's embrace. The brunet felt hot tears on his neck.

"Justin, do you trust me?" Brian asked, running his fingertips up and down the older man's back. Justin concentrated on his voice, his endearing accent. He took a deep breath and clutched to him tighter. "Do you?"

"Yes," he replied in a whisper.

When you fall in love, it's supposed to be all daisies and sunshine. Not this. But no, that would be too easy, too convenient. But Justin fell deeper still as this teenager held onto him for dear life, despite his flaws.

"I trust you," Justin said with more conviction, looking into Brian's hazel eyes. Brian smoothed his hair away from his face and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Then tell me why you're afraid of me," Brian told him, his voice breaking a little. Justin sighed, wiping his eyes with the back of one hand before placing it on Brian's shoulder.

"Something happened to me," Justin started, averting his eyes, "back in high school."

"Go on," Brian coaxed gently. He took Justin's hand in his and intertwined their fingers together. Justin swallowed hard and looked up at him.

"In my senior year, there was this guy…Danny. We flirted a lot, all through the year. He was in my gym class." He paused and Brian sighed, still holding Justin's hand. "One day, near graduation, Chris Hobbs overheard us flirting. I can't even remember what I said to Danny, but I remember the look on Chris' face." Justin closed his eyes and shook his head.

"It's okay," Brian reassured him, squeezing his hand. The brunet understood how important it was that Justin talked about this.

"Well," Justin continued, "Chris and one of his friends, John, starting pushing us around. The four of us got into a fight in the middle of gym class. When the teacher came over to break us all up, he told Chris and John to hit the showers. Then he told Danny and I that we had detention, and we were to spend it cleaning out the equipment room."

"That's fucked up," Brian said, sliding his hand under the blond's shirt. He relaxed against the touch.

"I know. So, Danny and I were cleaning out the equipment room, and somehow we starting kissing. I had never kissed anyone before. He pushed me against the lockers, and, um, slid his hand into my pants. Then he told me he wanted to fuck me."

Brian closed his eyes. He didn't really want to hear this, by the sound of it. But he kept lightly rubbing Justin's lower back, urging him to go on.

"I was really out of it, so I said yes without even really thinking about where we were, what that meant. He pulled a condom out of his pocket. I remember it was red, and I was scared, and he was smiling. And then," he broke off as a sob erupted from his lips. Brian held him tighter, pressing kisses to his forehead and temple.

"And then what?" He whispered gently, soothingly massaging Justin's scalp. The blond inwardly cursed himself for carrying on like such a child, but he couldn't help it. But Brian didn't seem to mind that he was crying into his neck, shaking on his lap. He was trying to comfort him, soothe him.

He fell a little more.

"And then Chris and John came in, probably to fuck with us some more. They saw us kissing, with his hand down my pants." Brian's breath caught in his throat. He clutched Justin tighter as a million and one worst case scenarios whizzed through his brain. But he remained silent, his breaths ragged on the top of Justin's head. "They saw us, and Danny pulled away really fast. They started coming towards us, and Chris grabbed a baseball bat…"

"You fucking faggots!" Chris yelled. Justin opened his eyes, still dizzy from his first kiss. His eyes focused just in time to see Chris swing.

Cold wood met warm bone. There was a crack, and Danny dropped to the ground. Justin focused on the blood spilling from his head and for the first time, feared for his own life.

Brian grimaced, his fingers dancing along Justin's skull with more purpose now, searching for a scar, a sign of the end of the tale.

"Chris, he hit Danny. He hit him in the head so hard, Brian. I saw it. Danny dropped like there wasn't a bone in his body, like he was never alive to begin with. There was so much blood. It was just cascading from his head. I couldn't look away. I was so afraid. I was afraid they were going to kill me."

Brian felt like such an asshole for being relieved that Justin was not the one that had gotten hit. His heart pounded against his chest so hard that he knew Justin could feel it. He took a deep breath, concentrating on Justin.

Nothing mattered but Justin. Nothing existed but Justin.

"Then, I looked up. The backs of my knees were against the bench, with the lockers behind me. And I looked up, and John punched me. I remember my hands flying up to my face and I fell over the bench and the back of my head hit the lockers. Hard. And it knocked me out."

And that's when Brian felt it, a small line of raised skin on the back of Justin's head. A reminder, a scar. Brian felt a tear escape his eye.

"I'm so sorry," Brian mumbled as Justin continued to cry softly against his chest. "What happened?"

"When I came to, I was covered in blood. I know I had only been out for a few minutes. It was warm, and sticky. I looked over…"

His eyes were open, lifeless and cold. Blood stained the concrete, coppery and dark. Justin tried to open his mouth, tried to scream, tried to do anything. But there was nothing he could do…

"And Danny was dead."

"Fuck," Brian gasped. His vision grew blurry with tears, and Justin's sobs grew louder, and Brian smoothed his fingers up and down Justin's back under his shirt. He didn't know what to do, how to act.

Justin's sobs died down, and they were both silent for a long time. Brian's lips were resting against Justin's temple, his arms firmly grasping him. And then Justin spoke again.

"I finally screamed,' Justin whispered softly. "I screamed louder than I can ever remember screaming, and a guy ran in. I didn't know who he was. He looked like a freshman." Justin sat up a little, wiping his eyes. "He looked from me, to Danny's body, and then he screamed. And all I could think was 'please stop screaming'."

Please stop screaming.

Please stop screaming.

"What the fuck happened?" He cried, chest rising and falling. Justin tried to make his mouth work, but he was spiraling into blackness. Pain rippled through him and he could barely make sense.

"Get help," he whispered hoarsely, and everything went dark again.

"When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. I remember it was the middle of the night, and I woke up to complete darkness. I opened my mouth, but I couldn't say anything. I remember I started crying, really hard. Then a nurse came in, and a doctor, and my mother. I told them all to go away, but they wouldn't stop touching me, smothering me."

Please don't touch me.

Please don't touch me.

"Justin, oh god Justin. Are you alright?" His mother cupped his bandaged face in her palms, trying to act like she truly cared. The doctor touched his chest, the nurse touched his wrist.

Please don't fucking touch me.

He screamed bloody murder.

"I screamed. I screamed until they left me alone. And then I cried until I fell back asleep." Justin wiped his eyes again. And then Justin wiped Brian's eyes. He didn't even know he had been crying. "I'm sorry I'm upsetting you," Justin whispered, eyes lowered. Brian quickly shook his head.

"Baby," he said quickly. He paused; surprised he had said such a thing. Justin looked up, and his eyes looked a little brighter, so Brian decided he'd keep on using the pet name. "It's okay. I want you to talk about it. I want you to know you can tell me anything, and it'll be okay." Justin smiled, albeit weakly, and that was reason enough for Brian to endure anything he had to say. "What happened next?"

"Well," Justin sighed, and Brian knew this story wasn't going to get any happier. "What happened was in every paper, on every news station. People tried to interview me about it, but I wouldn't talk." Brian tried to think back, to see if he could remember hearing about it. But he would have been thirteen at the time, still in Ireland. "Emmett and Daphne were by my bed almost constantly. They were the only people I would allow near me. But, on my third day in the hospital, my dad showed up, and he was pissed."

"Wait, why was your dad pissed?" Brian asked, face twisting up in confusion.

"It seems he didn't enjoy finding out his son was gay on the 5 o'clock news. I don't know how the reporters found out we were gay. Chris and John must have said something. Anyway, my dad's name was plastered everywhere, and it was all connected to his faggot son. Apparently, it wasn't too good for business."

"How the fuck could he care about business after what happened to you?" Brian demanded. Justin smiled weakly.

"I don't know," he sighed. "But he sure didn't want me there anymore. He informed me that after I graduated, which I would be doing early, I was on a plane to Seattle. Once there, I would live with my half dead Aunt Jean, and attend Seattle University. I would never come back to Pittsburgh. I was thoroughly and effectively disowned." Justin sighed again and Brian closed his eyes against the rage he felt welling up inside of him.

"Fucker," he muttered, not knowing what else to say. "What did your mom do?"

"Go against Craig Taylor's wishes and give up the luxurious life she had grown so accustomed to? Yeah right. She just helped me pack my bags and told me to have a nice life." Brian shook his head. "So, in Seattle, I threw myself into my art. Got recognized in a few shows, made some money. A lot of money, actually. But I wasn't happy."

"I can't imagine how you could have been," Brian told him, moving his hand around to rub Justin's stomach. "When did you decide to come back?"

"Right after I painted that, actually." Justin pointed to the picture on the wall over the entertainment center, the ruined city on the edge of a crystal blue sea. Brian nodded. "It was about a year ago. Someone told me to go home, and I did."

"I'm so glad you did," Brian whispered, pulling Justin closer. "What happened to Chris and John?"

"Daphne told me Chris was found guilty of voluntary manslaughter, and was sentenced to ten years in prison. Nothing happened to John." Brian sighed, glad Chris was locked up.

"So I understand why intimacy scares you," Brian whispered after a few moments. Justin sighed and leaned back against him.

"I actually feel a lot better now that I've talked about it, and cried it out. I guess when we had sex I was just too out of it to even think about it, but afterwards, whenever things got too heavy, I just saw flashes of that day."

"I understand," Brian told him, pressing soft kisses to his face. Justin caught his lips with his own and kissed him softly. He looked into Brian's eyes for a long time, searching him. He kissed him once more and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. Then he whispered, so quietly and timidly that Brian had to strain to hear him.

"Dare to try again?"

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