Through the Rain

Chapter 10

"Gus, can I please just help you?" Brian asked in an even tone. He closed his eyes against the headache he felt rapidly forming.

"Daddy, I am four years old. I can tie my own shoes." Brian sighed and fiddled with his cufflinks nervously.

"Justin, are you okay in there?" Brian called towards the bedroom, where Justin was getting ready.

"Almost, but, um, could you help me with my shoes? It hurts to bend over that far." His voice was strained and soft. Brian immediately stood up.

"Be right there," the older man called. He looked from the bedroom and back to Gus. "Justin wants help with his shoes. It's okay to ask for help. Can I please help?"

"DADDY!" Gus screamed out in frustration, tears forming in his eyes. "I. Can. Do. It. Myself."

Brian bit his bottom lip against the swell of emotions swirling below his ribcage. Melanie and Lindsay's joint funeral was in less than an hour. Gus had spent the morning slamming and banging around the loft. He refused help with anything, even getting on his suit. Brian didn't know what to do. He wanted to slam and bang around and yell too, but he couldn't. He was the adult.

Fucking false maturity.

Brian strode purposefully towards the bedroom and sighed when he caught sight of Justin's mop of hair. Justin was a whole other matter in itself. There was that kiss.

That amazing kiss.

And then…nothing.

Neither of them mentioned the kiss. Neither of them hinted at it. Neither of them made another move.

But damn, they sure thought about it.

Their living arrangements were strange to say the least. Brian tried to give Justin and Gus his bed, but neither boy would allow it. They all slept nestled together, for warmth, comfort, security, whatever.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Brian asked, kneeling at the blond's feet as he sat on the side of the bed. Justin nodded, and when he realized Brian was looking down at his feet, he shook off his dazed expression.

"Sure? No. But I know I need to be there." Brian nodded and tied Justin's shoes. He had healed nicely in the week that had passed since the accident. He refused to get anywhere near the wheelchair and the wound on his head was almost gone, leaving a patch of redbrown skin in its wake. Still, anyone could tell the pain he was in as he walked, wincing every time his shoulder moved.

Brian often caught him twirling a pencil in his hand, being careful not to disturb his shoulder. He clutched the pencil so hard that Brian was surprised it didn't melt into his skin and become a part of him.

Justin was so new and mysterious to him. He wanted to know everything, but he was afraid to ask anything. He didn't know what would set him off, or upset him. He didn't know what interested him. Art, if the almost constant pencil twirling was any indication.

Brian closed his eyes and made plans to visit the art supply store the following day. He wanted to see Justin smile.

He helped Justin up and looked deep into his watery eyes, searching for the key that would open Justin up to him, unlock all his secrets, tell his story.

Brian kissed Justin on the forehead before he realized what he was doing. He felt Justin place a soft, apprehensive kiss against his jaw and he relaxed, pulling the smaller body toward him.

"How are we going to make it through today?" Justin asked, his words as shaky as Brian's emotions.

"Just keep breathing I guess." They both sighed against each other, breathing each other in as if it would make them stronger.

Brian kissed the bridge of Justin's nose and softly pulled away as he heard Gus ascend the stairs.

"Daddy?" He sniffed, dragging his sleeve across his nose in a way that would usually make Brian cringe. Tears tracked their way down his red cheeks and he wiped them away. "Can you help me please? I can't do it. Mommy always did it."

Brian gulped and sat Gus on the side of the bed. He got down on his knees in his very expensive pants for the second time and pulled Gus' shoelaces tight. "You just pull them like this, see?" He made two loops and held them up. "Then swoop them around like this, and pull them tight." He did as he instructed as Gus looked on. "Loop, swoop, pull, okay?"

"Thank you, Daddy." Another set of tears escaped his eyes and the little boy growled and furiously wiped them away.

"It's okay to cry, Gus," Brian told him. Gus sniffed and looked up at his father as he stood up. "You know that."

"You never cry. I want to be tough like you." Brian looked over at Justin, who gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm not tough, Gus." Brian sat down on the bed and pulled his son into his lap. "Just because I don't cry doesn't mean I'm tough. I do cry, just not when anyone can see."

"You see Gus," Justin interjected. "Your daddy grew up being told it wasn't okay to cry, when actually it's just fine. So crying doesn't make you weak, it doesn't make you small…it makes you human.

"Okay, Jus'n." Gus smiled weakly and wiped his eyes once more, nodding as if he had just decided something.

"Go get your coat on, Gus." Brian watched his son leave the room before turning to Justin.

"How do you know how I grew up?" Brian asked, his eyes full of something like uncertainty. Justin smiled sadly.

"Lindsay told me." Brian raised his eyebrow. "It wasn't like she just started telling me everything. We got to talking about it after I asked why Gus was so damn stubborn."

"He's just like his father, you know," Lindsay said wistfully as both blondes watched Gus stack blocks, tongue poking out of his lips in concentration. The blocks had to be just right, and if they weren't, he would just start all over. "All stubbornness and determination."

"Oh?" Justin asked. "What's Brian like?"

"He's a beautiful man on the outside. Even more beautiful on the inside. Not that he would ever admit it. He's so closed off. He grew up in such a bad home. It wasn't okay to be anything less than…perfect. I just wish he would find someone to help open him up."

Justin nodded thoughtfully before handing Gus another block to add to his masterpiece.

"Okay guys, let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course it would be raining on the day of their funeral. Why would he expect anything less?

Brian felt like he was trapped in a movie. He was wishing someone would just yell 'cut' so he would get the girls back and he could get on with his life. He swallowed the lump in his throat with the realization that this was, in fact, real life. No credits would roll after this.

Brian let his eyes scan the crowd of people, dressed all in hues of somber black and gloomy gray. Debbie's hair stood out, of course. She was crying into Emmett's chest as he held her, tears flowing from his own eyes. Michael wiped his eyes as Ben kept a strong, steady hand on his shoulder as he did his best to remain calm. Vic had his hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes trained on the ground. Ted clutched an umbrella, doing nothing to hide his grief.

Brian held Gus tighter against him, his feet absently kicking his thighs. Gus' eyes were locked on the coffins, tears flowing freely and silently. Justin leaned against Brian for support, and maybe comfort. Brian placed his hand on the small of Justin's back.

"When I die, I want a completely traditional funeral." Lindsay punctuated her statement with a nod while Brian choked on his smoke.

"That's some pretty random shit, Linds."

"I know, but I just wanted you to know."

"When I die," Brian replied, "scatter my ashes in the backroom of Babylon." Lindsay laughed and Brian took another drag of his joint before passing it to her. "Now enough of this death shit. It's fucking depressing."

"Yeah," Lindsay agreed.

"Besides, you'll never die. Wendy can't leave Peter Pan."

The funeral came to a close and Gus wrapped his arms around Brian's neck. He held him tight around the waist with one strong arm and took Justin's hand.

"Daddy, can we go home?" Gus asked, sniffing against Brian's neck. The taller man looked over at Justin, who nodded.

"Yeah, let's go home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian laid Gus down in the middle of his bed, freshly bathed and changed. The small boy fell back asleep instantly. Brian changed into a pair of jeans and a black tank before joining Justin on the sofa. The blond was staring into a tumbler of Beam. Brian poured himself one and clinked his glass against Justin's.

The noise jarred the smaller man from his thoughts and he looked up at Brian and smiled sadly, acknowledging him.

"I'm so sick of funerals," Justin muttered after a long comfortable silence. "I just went-" he paused, swallowing back his tears. He set his glass down on the table and Brian did the same. "I just went to one. I buried my best friend and my daughter six months ago." Brian was taken aback, but said nothing. He put his arm around the blond's shoulders. "Well technically I buried my best friend. Abby hadn't been born yet. But still."

"I'm so sorry," Brian mumbled. "Were you two…um?"

"Together?" Justin asked, looking up. "No. I suppose it happened pretty much the same way you and Lindsay had Gus. She wanted a kid. I wanted a kid. So…we made a kid."

"What happened?" Brian asked, treading lightly.

"Drunk driver," Justin replied shortly, looking down at his feet.

"Shit. I'm sorry," Brian replied, rubbing the blonde's back. Justin burst into tears and Brian felt tears of his own travel down his cheeks. He carefully pulled Justin into him and the blond cried into his neck. Brian leaned back as Justin calmed down. He rested the back of his head on the armrest of the sofa as Justin curled up on top of him, his breathing going from erratic to normal. Brian idly toyed with strands of his hair long after the blond had fallen asleep.

Brian yawned, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind.

"What a world," he mumbled sleepily before drifting off, holding Justin tight against him.

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