The Attic

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As Brian climbed the ladder into the attic, he heard Justin before he actually saw him. The loud sneeze was Brian's first clue of Justin's presence somewhere amidst the stacked boxes, racks of old clothes and shelves brimming with knickknacks.

"Gesundheit!" Brian called out.

"Thanks, but I rather have a tissue." Justin answered while sniffling and rubbing his nose.

"Here, I come bearing a brand new box. Debbie thought you could use them." Justin immediately reached for the box and pulled up a tissue.

"Oh, thank god, I was about to use my shirt."

"You mean, my shirt."

"Yeah, sorry."

Brian ignored the apology. Instead, he concentrated on the dust covered vision of beauty before him. Justin was wearing one of Brian's wife-beaters, cut off shorts and a bandana. As well as being incredibly sexy, the out fit was very appropriate in the stifling heat of Debbie's attic.

"Justin, why are you up here? It must be a hundred degrees. And I know the dust is playing havoc with your allergies. Why did you volunteer to clean out Debbie's attic? Where is Hunter? Better yet, where is Michael? She's his mother, for fuck's sake!" Brian ranted.

Justin blew his nose again and tried to explain.

"Debbie was feeling a little under the weather so Hunter is doing a double shift at the diner. Debbie didn't trust Michael with her precious antiques. So I volunteered. Besides, Bri, I owe her."

Brian nodded in agreement. Looking around at the mess, he added, "I'll help, I owe her too. With both of us working we should get done in no time."

Justin smiled. This was a first, Brian Kinney actually helping without being asked and risking getting himself dirty. That in itself was a miracle.

In a few hours they had most of the junk in the attic sorted. The garbage was double bagged and out by the curb for pick up. The real antiques were cleaned up and properly stored. And the clothes and ‘interesting' knickknacks were boxed awaiting a yard sale.

"Brian, you can't have a yard sale tomorrow. It's too soon. Even if I put up posters tonight, no one will see them in time."

"Justin, have you no faith in me?" Brian snarked.

"Okay, oh wise one, how does one have a successful yard sale without advertising said sale?" Justin could be just as snarky as Brian.

"Elementary, my dear young twink. You place a call to the right queen. Now watch and learn." Justin pulled up a box that was yet unexplored and sat to watch the master at work.

Brian took out his cell phone and placed a call. "Emmett! Yes, it's Brian. Yes, Brian Kinney. Emmett, for fuck's sake shut up and I'll tell you. I have a very special request to make of you. Emmett. Emmett. EMMETT! What the fuck happened? Oh, you okay?" Justin gave Brian a crossed eyed look. Brian held his hand over the phone and whispered to Justin, "he dropped the phone."

Justin giggled softly and continued to watch and learn.

"Emmett, I'm calling you because you are the right ‘man' for the job. Justin and I have just finished cleaning out Debbie's attic and I... Oh shit, not again. Emmett, lube is for your ass not the phone! Now get a grip. Thank you. As I said, we just finished cleaning Debbie's attic. We came across a lot of interesting little chachkas and retro clothes. We were thinking about throwing them out but..."

The screech that emanated through the phone was almost deafening.

"Oh, so throwing them out isn't a good idea? What do you suggest? A yard sale? Hmm, I never thought of that. Well, of course, you're absolutely right and Debbie could use the money. But well, Justin doesn't have time to make up all those posters. No? Would tomorrow at noon be too soon? No? And you can do this? Sure, we, would help. I'll help you move the picnic table. You're coming home soon to go through everything? We have everything labeled. Yes, yes and we can use the racks to display the clothes. They are a bit dusty. Authentic? They're authentic, all right. But what about buyers? Oh, you'll make calls. If you think that'll work. That many, huh. If you say so. Okay, Em. I'll leave it in your capable hands. Bye, Emmett. See you tomorrow."

Brian cut the connection and smirked.

"So, what did he say?" Justin enquired.

"You mean after he fainted, picked himself and his phone up off the floor? He said he could get about fifty fags here tomorrow afternoon and this stuff will be history."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. We need to be here about noon to help him move the picnic table to the front and bring the stuff out but he'll take care of everything else."

"Brian, you are the master."

"It just pays to go to the right queen. Let's go down and fill Debbie in on the plan. She'll probably start making lemonade to serve at the sale."

"Okay." Justin stood up and was about to move the box he was sitting on when he decided to take a quick peek inside it.

"Hey Brian."

"Hmm."

"Look." Justin began rummaging through the box and removed a soccer ball. Under it was a jersey, several trophies and a high school year book. As he quickly flipped through the year book an envelope fluttered to the floor addressed to Brian. Picking up the letter, Justin recognized the script.

"Brian, it's from Vic." Justin said as he handed the envelope to Brian. Brian stared at the envelope then sat on the floor to open it. Brian scanned the letter. Justin could hear a hitch in Brian's breathing.

"Brian? You okay?" Justin quietly asked as he sat next to his partner. Brian gave the letter to Justin as he reached for a tissue.

"Justin, read it. Out loud."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Dear Brian, I hope you find this one day. God only knows that if this box is buried in Deb's attic, it may never see light of day, but I hope it will. I saved this for you. I know you hate sentimentality but I was there for most of your games. So was Debbie. I know why you never showed the trophies to Joan or Jack and frankly they never deserved to see them. We were so proud when you shared them with us. In spite of what people may think, you were a good boy, Brian. And you grew into a fine man. I'm proud to have had you as a friend. And I thank you for protecting Michael when you both were kids. And now. Maybe one day you'll be proud enough of yourself to display these.

With love, Uncle Vic"

Justin took out a tissue to wipe his eyes. When his eyes were clear, Justin re-packed the box and gently urged Brian up. They took the box to the car to take it back to the loft. Brian sat in the car waiting for Justin to say his good bye to Debbie and to fill her in on the yard sale. Silently, they drove to the loft.

Home, in the loft, the lovers showered off the dust. They set out a bottle of wine, glasses on the bed side table and the box of Brian's treasures at the foot of the bed. Sitting in their robes, sipping wine, Brian and Justin examined their find.

The lettermen jersey had Brian's name on it and a big ‘C', denoting him as captain of the team. The ball was signed by his team mates. Brian gingerly fingered the trophies as Justin opened the year book in hopes of finding Brian's school picture.

"Brian? What's so special about this soccer ball?" Justin prayed the question was innocent enough to get Brian to talk. Justin knew that Brian's high school days and anything about his childhood was too painful for Brian. Brian loathed to speak of that period in his life.

"It was the game ball."

"Yeah?"

"It was the game ball when I got my scholarship to Penn State. The coach had arranged for a scout to see the game. I didn't know until after the game was over. We beat the shit out of the other team and the scout came to talk to me. And then he offered the scholarship. It wasn't a full scholarship but it was enough to get me the hell away from Joan and Jack. I jumped at it. The team signed the ball for me."

Justin smiled, grateful for that much from his lover. He continued to turn the pages until he found Brian's picture.

The young Brian was just as beautiful as the man sitting in his robe on the bed. Justin read the inscription under Brian's picture.

"Captain of the soccer team and honors society? Brian, what did you score on your SAT's?" Brian said nothing but a slight blush crept up his face. Justin's eyes narrowed a bit and he became uncharacteristically quiet.

After a few more moments of awkward silence, Brian asked Justin a question.

"Justin, have I changed much? I mean, I know I've gotten older but..." Justin closed the book and gently caressed Brian's cheek with his fingers. He again heard a hitch in Brian's breathing.

"Yes, you have changed. A lot." Brian turned and began to put everything back in the box. Then he took a long draft of wine.

Justin shook off his robe. Laying naked in the middle of the bed. Justin called to his lover.

"Brian." Justin cooed. "Come here." Brian crawled up over his sprawled Justin and covered the pale body with is own. Looking up into Brian's eyes, Justin explained the changes he saw.

"Brian, the sadness is gone. That's the change. The sad look in the eyes of that boy in the year book is gone."

Brian captured Justin lips and they kissed until only the need for air drew the lovers apart. The hazel eyes sparkled with gold as the love in the blue eyes filled Brian's heart.

"My Sunshine chased away the sadness."

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