Rage Redux

Justin was late as he left the comic shop. He stuffed the last of the sketches into his bag, cringing as a sharp gust caught the door and slammed it back into the wall before it banged shut behind him. He gave Michael an apologetic shrug as he hurried past the display window.

Michael frowned, shaking his head as he went to assess another crack in the dilapidated plaster.

Justin rushed down the street, struggling with the clasps on his bag as the cold quickly stiffened his fingers. With his head bent, he didn’t notice anyone coming around the corner until they collided. Justin grabbed the lamppost to keep from falling and reached out to steady the other man.

“Sorry. Thanks, you okay?”

Justin’s stomach clenched in disgust at the voice and he grimaced as he pushed the tangle of blond strands from his face. “Fine.”

Ethan smiled tentatively, picking up Justin’s bag. He touched Justin’s hand and arm as he helped slide the strap up over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”

Justin took a step back from his grasp. “Yeah.”

“Justin--”

“What?” Justin cut in curtly.

Ethan wisely didn’t try to step closer again. He jammed his hands in his pockets. “How are you?”

Justin’s eyes narrowed, head tilted anxiously. “Fine. I’m late.” He started walking and Ethan fell into step with him.

“That’s too bad, I thought maybe we could have a cup of coffee or something.”

Justin shot him a sidelong glare. “Or something?” he sneered.

Ethan’s step slowed. “But you’re busy…”

“Yeah, it’s called a job,” Justin quipped. “Regular paychecks, I know it’s a novel concept--”

“Still at the diner?”

Justin didn’t reply as he jogged across the street to make the light. Ethan was still beside him.

“Wolfram likes the lemon bars, I’ll walk with you.”

Justin rolled his eyes and stopped. “What the fuck do you want?”

Ethan blinked coyly. “Just a cup of coffee and a lemon bar.”

Justin scowled and trudged on. He hoped he could get rid of Ethan before anyone saw them.

***

Michael stared in disbelief as Justin and Ethan crossed the street and headed toward the diner. He watched them until they disappeared and then slowly walked back to the counter.

He shuffled the storyboards Justin left behind, studying Rage and J.T..

After a moment, he sighed heavily and picked up the phone.

***

Justin slid the loft door open and paused. Brian had left him a message to come over, but the loft was dark—-except for the soft glow of the laptop on Brian’s desk.

Justin shut the door and squinted as his eyes adjusted. “Brian?” He moved toward the desk and could see Brian standing a few feet off, next to the wall where the stereo sat.

Suddenly violin music filled the room.

Justin blanched as Brian fiddled with the volume and sat back down at his desk.

He knew…

But how…

He didn’t do anything…

It took Justin a moment to realize the first haunting chords were now faster and—the drum… it was Celtic.

Justin’s racing pulse slowed slightly. Fuck, he was just overreacting.

“What is this?” Justin asked as he took a tentative step forward. The computer’s glow cast perilous shadows across Brian’s strained features and Justin still wondered if...

“My new account. The Irish Cultural Council wants a ‘facelift’. The wrinkled old leprechaun's words, not mine.”

Justin snorted. “Since when do you use mood music?”

Brian grabbed his wrist. “I’ll show you my mood.” He tugged Justin toward him, but just as Justin bent to kiss him, Brian placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Take a shower. You stink.”

Justin recoiled as if he’d been slapped.

Brian didn’t seem to notice. “What the fuck was the special today? You smell like dead fish.”

Justin blinked at him. “Meatloaf.” He was relieved Brian was still holding his hand. He felt like a fucking pussy for being so jumpy.

Brian let go and turned back to the computer. “Go while I finish this.”

Justin quickly pecked his cheek and went to the bathroom. He could feel Brian’s eyes on him as he moved and he forced himself not to hurry out of his sight.

In the shower, Justin tried to convince himself that Brian’s odd behavior was just a coincidence. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from scrubbing harder as he tried to wash away the memories of the night Brian first found out about Ethan. He watched the door warily, half expecting Brian to join him and hoping he wouldn’t.

Brian didn’t come in until he was getting out. He grabbed a towel from the rack and rubbed it through Justin’s hair, down his limbs, over his torso and back, and then looped it around his neck and used it to pull Justin along to the bedroom.

He was pushed down onto the mattress and Brian stretched over him. Justin cradled Brian between his knees, stroking Brian’s hair when the man’s head lay in the crook of his shoulder. Soft lips tickled along his neck and he sighed.

“You need to find your passport.”

“Hmm…” the words slowly sank in and Justin’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The leprechauns are sending me to Ireland for ‘research’.”

Justin tugged at Brian’s hair a little. He couldn’t filter words fast enough when Brian was licking there. “You’re going to Ireland. What does…” he trailed off when Brian fixed him with steady eyes. He understood the message, though Brian could never just fucking say it.

He smiled giddily and took Brian’s face in both hands, pulling him in for a kiss to tamp down the urge to scream like Chicken Little, ‘The sky is falling, the sky is falling!’

But Brian paused, his eyes still wide and open.

Justin could see his reflection and felt oddly naked.

Brian’s long fingers slid behind his neck, curling possessively. “I take it you can spare the time?” he asked.

Justin looked at himself staring back, seeing himself for what seemed like the first time, through Brian’s eyes. He now knew for certain that Brian had found out about Ethan walking him to the diner today— he could hear Brian sneer, ‘how romantic’ in his head— and he realized the sky wasn’t falling after all.

For Brian, nothing had changed.

“Brian,” Justin slid his arms up around the other man’s neck, staring back steadily so there was no doubt, “I’m going with you.”

Brian blinked, then Justin saw his lips twitch, the corners curling up a bit before Brian rolled them together and bit down on any smile trying to escape. He snorted instead, burying his face in Justin’s hair.

Justin shivered and laughed as Brian’s warm breath tickled his scalp. He pushed and wiggled and Brian nipped and growled. They wrestled playfully for a few minutes until Justin managed to maneuver Brian onto his back and he sat straddling his hips. “When are we going?”

“Grab the lube.”

Justin looked for it on top of the nightstand. “And where?”

“In the drawer.”

Justin shook his head. “I meant in Ireland.” He realized Brian was right and opened the drawer and felt for the lube. “Tell me what you have planned so far.”

“Later.”

“Just tell me what they said. What did they recommend? Is there somewhere you have to go—oh.”

“Find it?”

Justin pulled out Brian’s favorite dildo, which had obviously been placed there for the evening’s entertainment. “You really were in a mood today,” he grinned. Justin stroked the thick shaft, leering at the other man, and felt Brian’s reaction nudging harder between his legs. His own dick started to leak remembering the last time Brian had rolled over for him. He lubed the toy and teased, “Hope you don’t have any long meetings to sit through tomorrow,” as his fingers lingered over the wide ribbed tip.

Brian watched through lust-heavy lids. “Jealous?”

Justin blinked. The image of Brian laid out on his belly, legs spread and waiting, was suddenly replaced and Justin felt a flash of heat sear through his groin as he remembered fucking himself with the dildo while Brian jerked off watching him. “Yes.” He handed the dildo to Brian. “Fuck me.”

Brian took it and rolled them onto their sides. Justin’s arms snaked around his torso and he rubbed their groins together, further stimulating their hard dicks. Brian arranged Justin’s leg over his hip and let his fingers roam between his cheeks to graze the exposed hole.

Justin moaned and his head fell back against Brian’s arm, his eyes just catching the smirk on Brian’s face before their lips smashed together. Suddenly Justin realized this had really been Brian’s plan along. To remind him Brian knew him better than anyone else.

***

Brian pinched Justin’s ass as he shuffled by the gang’s booth the next morning. “Today, Sunshine,” he prodded, holding his coffee cup out for a refill.

Justin scowled and returned with the coffee pot, ignoring Michael’s attempts to engage him in their conversation. If anyone else noticed, they didn’t say anything and he was relieved. He was still too annoyed with Michael for upsetting Brian for no reason, but at least the idiot was keeping his mouth shut today so he wouldn’t start anything either.

Until they were getting ready to leave for work. Obviously, Michael thought Justin was out of earshot in the kitchen and he cornered Brian coming out of the restroom.

Justin heard Michael say, “But if he’s--”

“I told you to stay out of it,” Brian snapped.

Justin brought the tray of coffee mugs out and passed by them without a word. Brian followed him to the end of the counter where he deposited the tray and received a peck good-bye.

Justin grabbed his arm before he left. “Remember to ask Marion--”

“Good places to get your dick sucked in Dublin. Yes, dear.”

Justin ignored the sarcasm and let him go. Once Brian was gone, he turned to Michael who was trying to slink past. Justin put a hand on his chest to stop his escape. “Why the fuck can’t you mind your own business?”

Michael stepped back in surprise. “He’s my best--”

“Oh. My. God.” Justin groaned. “Would you get over it already? That doesn’t give you any right to butt in our relationship!”

“Wait a minute,” Michael sputtered. “I saw you yesterday and I--”

“I didn’t do anything!” Justin shouted. “He ran into me, and followed me. I was trying to get rid of him!”

Michael’s hands shot up defensively. “I know.”

“I—what?”

“I could tell you were trying to get away from him.”

Justin gaped at him. “Then why did you tell Bri--”

“Would you?”

“Fuck, no! Why--”

“Justin,” Michael steered them to a booth and sat down so they weren’t putting on anymore of a show for the rest of the patrons, “you don’t know what it was like for Brian when you left the first time. Everyone he ever shit on was in line around the block to kick him while he was down.”

Justin felt a fresh twinge of guilt. “Michael, I’m not going to leave him again.”

Michael shifted, his eyes riveted to the table. “I know.” He nervously looked up. “I do. I just didn’t want him to hear you were taking a walk with Ethan from someone else first. How do you think he would’ve reacted if you hadn’t said anything and then he heard about it from some bitter queen?”

Justin slumped back in his seat shaking his head. “There’s nothing to tell. And even if…I would’ve dealt with it, if it happened. But this way you still made it look like I’m hiding something because I didn’t tell him myself.”

“No, he doesn’t think--”

“Yes, he does,” Justin snapped. “Michael, he’s taking me to Ireland with him for a business trip. Does that sound like something the Brian we both know would do?”

Michael sighed impatiently. “I thought you’d be happy!”

Justin glared at him. “Duh. Of course I am. But I don’t want him to take me because he’s…suspicious. Or worse, because he’s planning to push me off a cliff—literally.”

Michael laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? Brian’s changed. I’d think after watching him lose his job and sell his stuff to beat Stockwell, you of all people would’ve figured it out.”

“Fuck you,” Justin growled. He didn’t need to be reminded about how much Brian sacrificed—because he sort of told him too.

Michael leaned in closer, locking gazes with the other man so he was sure to listen. “Justin, he was going to take you anyway. Before I told him.”

Justin’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Michael nodded. “I told him Ethan was bugging you and he should do something, and he said--”

Justin snorted in disbelief. “What’d you think Rage would do? Come defend my honor?”

Michael gave an embarrassed shrug. “He’s done it before.” Justin knew he was talking about the punch, but Michael didn’t say anything else about it. “Anyway, he said he was. You two were going to take a vacation and Ethan could go fiddle-fuck with someone else’s boyfriend.”

Justin let that sink in for a moment. “But what about this morning? You obviously said something--”

“I just asked if he talked to you and you know how defensive he gets,” Michael replied, grimacing slightly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Justin heard the kitchen bell ding and stood to retrieve his orders. “Look, Michael--”

“I was just trying to help,” he interjected. “I don’t want you guys to fuck this up again.”

Justin took a deep breath. He knew Michael meant well—now. “I know. Thanks.”

The cook rang the bell more insistently. “Orders up!”

Justin waved at him. “I gotta--”

Michael stood. “Go. Can you come by the shop later? I have some new ideas for the next issue.”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come by after class.”

Michael left and Justin delivered his order. The rest of the morning was pretty quiet and he had just slipped outside for a cigarette when he got a text message from Brian:

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