Love Pains

It had been nine days since the malicious attack on Justin. The press was finally dying down after numerous headlines, with extended commentary about gay bashing, and adult males who prey on young boys. Brian hoped that somehow Justin had been able to avoid the hype, that his parents had been able to shield him from the carnival of reporters, and their " human interest stories". Brian hadn't been so lucky. The press hounded him mercilessly with phone calls, and messages. They waited for him outside of the loft, even followed him to work. Ryder suggested that he should take a few days off until things quieted down, and Brian was grateful. Grateful for the time away from whispers, and discreet glances. Brian retreated to the only refuge he knew, Babylon. The beat of the music and an assortment of street pharmaceuticals managed to mask the ache in his heart. He wanted Justin, wanted to be with him, to tell him how sorry he was that things had gone so terribly wrong. He wanted to hold him, tell him that he loved him, and that everything was going to be okay. But Craig, and Jennifer Taylor had put a stop to that.

Jennifer was the first to attack. "What the hell were you thinking?" she yelled. "Why were you even there?"

Brian sat paralyzed in his chair. He couldn't lift his head to face her, or summons the voice to answer her. Michael came to his defense. "Justin wanted him there Mrs. Taylor." he said.

Craig Taylor placed his arm around his wife's waist. "Come on Jen. We have to go to Justin".

Michael watched as the Taylors disappeared behind the treatment room doors. He then turned to look at his friend. Brian remained motionless, his eyes fixated on the floor in front of him. Streaks of dried blood and tears stained his face, and the scarf draping his neck, once white, was now saturated with red. Michael retrieved some wet paper towels from a nearby washroom. "Em, and Ted will be here soon." Michael said as he placed the towels in his friends hands. Brian automatically began to wipe his face and hands. "Can I get you something?" Michael asked. "Something to drink maybe?"

Brian handed the used towels back to Michael. "No." he whispered.

Brian closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, allowing his head to rest on the wall behind him. He barely noticed the arrival of the others. Emmett, Ted, and Debbie were soon joined by Mel, Lindsey, and Gus. While Michael filled them in with the brief chain of events Brian had given him over the phone, Lindsey focused her attention on Brian. She saw a slight smile sweep across his lips as he observed Gus sleeping in his carrier. Brian reached over and placed his pinky in the baby's hand, causing the sleeping child to instinctively grasp his father's finger.

"Would you like to hold him?" she asked.

"No, let him sleep." Brian said. His mind drifted back to the night his two babies almost simultaneously came into his life. Two beautiful bundles of energy, innocent to the new world around them, yet so ready to learn. Who could have foreseen the sweet bind they would come to have on him? Brian certainly never saw it coming. One day he awakened to Mountain Dew and infant formula in his refrigerator, sketchbooks and stuffed bears in his bed, and video tapes of Elmo, and The Yellow Submarine in his VCR. Now he yearned for their kisses, and the feel of them cuddling against his chest. Making them smile had become a priority, and protecting them was a destiny he uneasily accepted. The thought of loosing one of them was more than his heart could bear. The knowledge that one of them was behind the glass doors, fighting for his life was killing him. If Lindsey only knew how much he wanted to, needed to hold his baby.

Craig Taylor reappeared through the treatment room doors. His demeanor was calm as he walked over toward the group. Eyes focused on the floor, his hands on his hips, in deep thought, he searched for the right words to say. Craig walked into the middle of the group, and stood in front of Brian. "I need to speak with you privately." he said.

"How's Justin, Mr. Taylor?" Debbie asked.

Craig ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on the man still sitting in front of him. "Brian, we need to talk." he repeated.

Brian's eyes met Craig's gaze. He stood, and followed Justin's father to the end of the corridor. Craig took a deep breath. "My son has a fractured skull." he began. "He's lost a lot of blood, and there's quite a bit of swelling. He hasn't regained consciousness, and so far there hasn't been any voluntary movement."

A sharp pain suddenly pierced Brian's chest. He could feel himself weakening, as it became more, and more difficult to breath. He wanted to run away, but he couldn't. Instead Brian stood there with his eyes locked into Craig's, silently taking what he deserved. The distraught father continued. "If the swelling doesn't stop, Justin's going to need emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain, and we can't rule out the possibility of permanent damage."

Now rapidly becoming overtaken by a mixture of grief, fear, and rage. The volume of Craig's voice began to rise. "My son is fighting for his life, and my wife is near hysterics." he said. "When I get home I'm going to have to explain to Justin's little sister, and his grandparents what, and why this has happened. This is all your fault Mr. Kinney. You couldn't find another deviant your own age. You had to take my seventeen year old son home and sodomize him!"

Craig's last sentence trailed to the other end of the hall, causing all eyes in the waiting area to turn toward the two men. Michael stood, and headed to his friend's aide, but Debbie caught his arm. The loud accusations also caught of the attention of a nearby security guard, who began walking toward the commotion. "If you come near my son again, I'll kill you!" Craig roared. "Do you understand me Brian?"

The guard quickly intervened "Gentlemen, you can't do this here. Take it someplace else, or I'm going to arrest you both." he warned.

There was dead silence as everyone awaited Brian's response. The man who didn't need anyone, who offered no apologies, and no regrets, the man known for his quick wit, and stinging comebacks, to this point had remained silent. Finally the words came. "I understand." Brian said, before quietly turning, and exiting the hospital.

Michael used his passkey to gain entrance to Brian's loft. Everything appeared normal. The place was immaculate as usual. He called for his friend, but there was no answer. It was still early, maybe Brian was still asleep. Michael climbed the two steps to the bedroom. There was no Brian there, only a perfectly made bed, dressed in blue silk sheeting. However water could be heard running in the shower. From the bathroom doorway, Michael could see his friend amidst the dense steam. He walked over to the glass shower door, and tapped.

Brian quickly spun around. Squinting through the cloud of steam, he attempted to locate his intruder. "Shit Mikey! What the fuck are you trying to do, give me a goddamn heart attack?" he snapped. Brian turned off the water, and pushed open the shower door. Michael watched as his friend scurried past naked, and dripping wet. Brian's eyes were wild, and red as his skin, flushed from the intense heat of the shower. It was obvious that he was on something, exactly what was anybody's guess. By now Brian probably didn't even know himself.

Michael pulled a white terry robe from the rack, and followed his friend to the kitchen. "You weren't at "Babylon" last night, we were worried about you." he said.

"We?"

"Yeah, me, Emmett, Ted..."

"I don't need babysitting!"

Michael slipped Brian's arms into the robe, and slid it over his shoulders. He then walked around, and began to secure the tie around his friend's waist. "It's not babysitting." he said. "You've been partying like a wild man all week. We were just wondering if you'd finally killed yourself."

Brian ignored Michael's comment. "Are you hungry? I could fix you something." he said. Brian opened his refrigerator to inspect its contents. The shelves were practically empty, bottled water, an empty juice carton, and an assortment of empty take-out containers.

"I'm not hungry Brian. When was the last time you had something to eat?" Michael asked.

"I'm not hungry."

"When was the last time you had some sleep?"

"I'm not sleepy. What do you want Mikey!"

"My mom talked to Jennifer Taylor. Justin's being discharged from the hospital today."

Even though the attack on the young king of Babylon had been the talk of Liberty Avenue, those closest to Brian had taken great pains not to mention Justin's name in Brian's presence. It was a delicate spot, and no one wanted to be the first to experience Brian's reaction. Michael knew he was treading dangerous waters. There was a long silence before Brian asked. "Is he alright?" His voice was almost a whisper.

"So far." Michael answered.

Brian padded off to the bedroom, with a bottle of Jim Beam in tow. Michael followed. "Don't you think you should call him? he asked. "You didn't go to visit him in the hospital. You didn't call him. You know he's been asking for you."

Brian removed his robe, and slipped into a pair of jeans. He took a long swallow of the brown liquid, and headed back to the living room. Again Michael followed. "You're not afraid of his dad are you?" Michael pressed.

"It's best this way. Justin shouldn't be with me. He should be with some one his own age." Brian said, then took another drink.

"Best for who Brian, best for you? Look at you, you're a fucking wreck. You're as thin as a rail, you haven't slept in days, you've been tricking three, and four guys at a time, and doing every drug on the street."

Brian took another swallow. "Sounds like a party to me." he said sarcastically.

"Sounds like a broken heart to me." Michael said gently.

That one hit a nerve. Brian flashed his friend a menacing glance, then hurled the bottle of Jim Beam across the room, shattering it against the wall. "Damn you Michael, get out! Get the fuck out!"

Michael didn't flinch. "You're so full of shit Brian, you and your soapbox lectures about living life with no apologies, and no regrets. It's all bullshit. You're human just like the rest of us, and sometimes humans make mistakes that we regret, and have to apologize for."

Brian sank down onto the sofa. He leaned forward, placing his elbows onto his knees, and burying his face into his hands. "Michael, I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I'm dying." he whispered.

Michael sat down next to his friend, and placed his arm around his shoulder. "You're not dying Brian, it's just love pains." he said. "Admit it Brian, Justin's not just another trick. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"I don't believe in love." Brian sniffed.

"I wouldn't say that." Michael disagreed. "Look at how you've always been there for Justin. You took him in when he couldn't go home. You supported his decision to go to art school. You went after him, and forgave him when he caused your loft to be robbed. That's not bad for someone who doesn't believe in love."

Brian looked at his friend. "I almost got him killed Michael." he said.

"It's not your fault that some closet case, homophobic, psycho wanted to hurt him."

"It's my fault for not protecting him. His father's right, Justin wouldn't be hurt if it wasn't for me."

Michael watched as the tears began to stream down Brian's face. "Stop it Brian." he ordered. "You're tweaked, you're exhausted, and you're not thinking straight. I'm going to go, and get you something to eat, then you're going to get some sleep. Tomorrow you're going to go, and see Justin."

"No Michael. I'm going to do what I should have done the first night that I saw him on Liberty Avenue. I'm going to leave him alone." Brian resolved.

It was almost noon. Michael had gone to the diner to pick up lunch, leaving instructions for Brian to stay sober until he returned. The tentative plan was to get a decent meal into his friend, and get him to bed before he collapsed. Brian panned the loft for something to do, anything to keep his mind off of Justin. He looked at the brown liquor drying on the wall, and the broken bottle beneath it. That would keep him busy until Michael returned. Brian hauled out the broom and dustpan from the utility closet, and went about cleaning up the mess. He knelt down and began by picking up the larger pieces of glass, accidentally cutting his finger on one of the sharp edges. "Shit!" Brian yelped, then headed off to the bathroom medicine cabinet, in search of a bandage strip. While tending his wound, Brian heard the loft door slide open. Michael had returned. "That was quick." he called out.

"Brian."

The soft voice was unmistakable. Brian hurried out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, stopping short at the top of the bedroom doorway. "Justin."

Justin was standing in the middle of the floor, his eyes fixed on the barefoot, shirtless man standing at the top of the bedroom steps. Jennifer Taylor made her way through the loft door. "He refused to come home until he saw you first." she said.

Brian glanced over at her, then quickly back to Justin. He walked slowly toward the boy, keeping his eyes fixed on the beautiful face he had come to adore. Justin reached for him, and the older man melted into the teen's embrace. "Justin, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." he whispered.

Justin hugged him tighter. "I'm alright Brian." he uttered back.

Their mouths met for a long awaited kiss, easing the nightmare of the past nine days. Reluctantly, Brian pulled away for a closer look. He placed his left hand under Justin's chin, and gently lifted the young man's face up toward his own. Justin watched as Brian carefully inspected the damage. His eyes traced the white bandage that became slightly thicker near the boy's right temple. There was still some bruising underneath both eyes, as well as on the right side of his face. Brian reached down, grasping Justin's hands. He ran his thumbs across each knuckle, turned them over, and inspected each palm.

"My hands are a little weak, but the doctor says they're going to be fine." Justin assured him.

Satisfied, Brian glanced over at Jennifer. "Can I keep him mom?" he asked.

"I'm not a puppy Brian."

The lovers laughed.

Jennifer smiled. It was good to hear her son laugh again. The past nine days had been stressful for everyone, but particularly for Justin. He had endured repeated examinations, and endless, sometimes painful tests. The police had returned with more questions regarding the assault, and the involvement of Mr. Kinney. Justin couldn't remember much about the attack, but he vehemently defended his relationship with Brian. Craig openly expressed his outrage, causing father and son tempers to flare. The doctor's discharge order was for rest and quiet, but Jennifer feared that given the escalating, volatile relationship between Justin and his father, rest and quiet would almost be an impossibility. Still, Craig was adamant that Justin would come home, and not return to Debbie's. Leaving Justin with Brian was simply out of the question.

"I'm staying here." Justin announced.

No other words were necessary. Brian snaked his arms around the boy's waist, and lifted him from the floor. They kissed as Justin hugged Brian's neck, hoisted his legs, and locked them around his lover's body. Jennifer's eyes widened, and she felt a sudden rush of color to her face as she watched the older man carry her baby off to his bed. Brian lowered Justin onto the blue silk, knelt down, and removed his shoes and socks. He then reached over the outstretched boy, and began to unbutton his shirt.

Craig Taylor was growing impatient waiting for his son to return. He had chosen to remain in the car, fearing the sight of Brian Kinney would be more than he could stand. "It was a mistake to bring Justin here." he thought. But Justin had insisted, and Jennifer didn't want her baby to be upset any farther. Mr. Taylor entered the building, and made his way to Brian's loft. He stood at the entrance, refusing to go inside. Jennifer was standing just inside the door. "Alright, where is he?" Craig snorted. "JUSTIN!" he yelled before she could answer.

A startled Jennifer turned to look at her husband, then quickly returned her concern to the loft's bedroom. Her mind desperately searched for something to say. How was she going to explain Justin being in Brian's bed? Just then, a shirtless Brian sauntered over to the bedroom entrance, and leaned against the doorway. Justin appeared next to him, barefoot, his shirt opened to the waist. "Dad, I want to stay here with Brian." he said.

Justin's father's jaw fell. He turned to his wife. "What the fuck is going on here Jen?" Again, Craig didn't wait for an answer. "YOU'RE COMING HOME RIGHT NOW JUSTIN!" he roared.

"Justin's staying here." Brian said nonchalantly.

"YOU FUCKING PERVERT, I'LL KILL YOU!" Craig bolted through the door, pushing his way past Jennifer. He charged toward Brian.

Brian descended the bedroom steps in one pounce. His hands met the charging man's chest, shoving him hard. "Get the fuck out of my house!" Brian hissed.

Jennifer caught Craig's drawn fist, as Justin positioned himself between the two men. "Craig, stop it!" Jennifer pleaded.

Craig leered at Brian, then looked at his son. "Justin, I can't leave you here with this monster, this child molester, this pedophile." The outraged father struggled to regain his composure.

Justin felt Brian motion toward his father. The teen held out his arms, blocking Brian's advance. "Dad, I'm not a child, I'm eighteen." Justin said gently. "I'm a young man, a gay man, and I choose to remain here with my lover."

There was a long silence. Finally, Jennifer reached into her purse. She located the item she was searching for, and extended her hand to Brian. As she did so, the worried mother recalled the conversation she had had with Debbie the first time she saw Justin, and Brian together. "God's gift to gay P.A." Debbie had called him." Everybody wants him, nobody can have him. He breaks their heart, and if they're smart, they wise up." How could she give her baby to such a man? How could she hand Justin over to certain heartbreak? Jennifer took a long breath. "He can have two of these every six hours for headaches." she said. "The doctor wants him to have rest and quiet. Please call us if there are any changes."

Brian heard the worry in Jennifer's voice, could see it in her eyes. Given his reputation, she had every right to be concerned. She didn't want to see her son hurt, and he couldn't give her any guarantees. Brian only knew that he ached for the boy. No one excited him as much, or made him feel as cherished as Justin did. He knew that he would give his life for Justin, but he wasn't so certain that he could love him the way Justin deserved to be loved. Brian reached for the bottle of pills, momentarily allowing Jennifer's hand to linger in his before taking them. "Thank-you." he said softly.

Once again, Craig began to protest, but Jennifer grabbed his arm. "Come on Craig, let's go." she ordered.

Brian folded his arms around Justin's chest, and kissed his porcelain boy on the side of his head. "Thanks mom." Justin smiled.

Jennifer forced a smile for Justin's sake, then quickly kissed her baby goodbye. "I'll call you sweetheart." she promised.

The lovers watched as Jennifer struggled to get her still protesting husband out of the loft. Finally, she was able to close the door behind her.

"Brian?"

"Hum?"

"What's that shit on the wall?" Justin asked.

"I'll tell you later." Brian smiled.

Michael returned with lunch. He looked around the quiet loft in search of his friend. Good, Brian must have finally passed out. Michael placed the food in the refrigerator, and headed to the bedroom. From the bottom of the steps he could hear the sound of soft snoring. Michael crept up the steps, and peeked his head inside the bedroom doorway to find a sleeping Brian laid outstretch on his back, with Justin cradled against his left side. Brian stirred slightly as the teen slowly stroked his hand up, then down the length of his lover's chest, finally coming to rest on Brian's belly.  Michael smiled as he exited the loft, first making sure that the phone was turned off, and the alarm was set.

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