Going Back

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Brian opened the door of the loft.  He knew immediately that Justin had been there.  The few reminders of him that had been visible were gone.  There hadn’t been much of his stuff actually on display - his drawings on the dining room table, his backpack near the dresser, his portable CD on the coffee table.  They were now gone, but Justin’s presence, maybe it was his essence, still lingered.

 

"It’s really over,” Brian whispered to himself, as he closed the door.

 

He walked over to the stereo and started “You Are My Sunshine”.  He had bought the CD so that he could access the song more easily.  By hitting ‘repeat’ he could play it over and over again, and he had.  He seemed to be obsessed with the song.  It calmed and soothed him.  He had experienced such incredible pain and anger the first time he had heard that song.  From the very beginning the song had spoken to him on a primal level that he could not explain.  Now it had become like a mantra.  He knew that Justin was his sunshine, the only light in his life.  He would never allow anyone else to get to him like Justin had.  He was sure no one else could even come close.

 

Did the song hold a promise of his sunshine coming back?  Is that why he listened to it over and over again?  Was he holding out false hope?  It didn’t really matter, because he couldn’t stop listening to it, whatever the reason.

 

As the song started up for the second time, he thought he would take a shower.  He wanted to look his best when he went to Babylon.  He left the song playing and went into the bathroom.

 

It would be better to start this at Babylon, less talk and more action than at Woody’s.  He would show everyone that he was as good, no as great, as ever.  Tonight would mark his return to the club scene.  He would make sure that there was no doubt that the old Brian Kinney was back in every way.

 

Brian dressed in skintight black jeans and a sheer, sleeveless black shirt.  Slutty, Justin would have called it.

 

“I’d fuck you,” said Brian, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

 

He arrived at Babylon a while later.  Michael and Ben were standing by the bar.  Emmett and Ted were dancing.  He walked over to the bar and ordered a beer.  As he sucked on his beer and began scanning for a likely trick, Michael came closer.

 

“I’m glad you came tonight.  It’s good to see you’re back,” he said.

 

“In more ways than one.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Oh, nothing.  Wanna dance?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Brian steered him out onto the dance floor.  As they started to dance, Brian looked back at Ben who was staring at him with a rather disapproving look.  Ben obviously didn’t approve of Brian being there.  He didn’t like the way Brian was handling the whole Justin thing.  Michael would be no problem, because in his eyes Brian rarely did anything wrong.  Ben would be a tougher nut to crack.  He didn’t need Ben on his case, just as he was getting things back to normal.

 

Ted and Emmett danced over to them, so Brian had an excuse to look away from Ben.  He didn’t want it to appear that he couldn’t meet Ben’s gaze, but it was starting to get a little uncomfortable.

 

“Welcome back to Babylon, sweetie,” Emmett said, giving him a hug.

 

“Sweetie?  Have I been promoted?” Brian asked with a smile.

 

“Just glad to see you,” Emmett said with sincerity.

 

“Thanks.”  Brian was kind of touched.  “No warm welcome from you?” Brian asked, looking at Ted.

 

“Nice to see that nothing ever changes or affects you.”

 

“Did you expect me to fall apart?”

 

“You?  Never.  But I thought there might have been a little regret or sadness.”

 

Brian didn’t like where this was going.  “I don’t do regret or sadness.  They’re bullshit!  I’m here to have a good time and you’re getting me down.”

 

“Well, excuse me for caring,” Ted snapped.

 

“I need another beer,” Brian said, as he headed for the bar.

 

This might be harder than he had thought.  Damn Ted, anyway!  The others trailed along after him.

 

The best way to stop all this speculation was to find a trick.  As Brian picked up his beer, he saw a likely candidate staring at him from the dance floor.  He took a good slug of the beer, set the bottle down and headed toward the guy.

 

“Brian,” he heard Michael say, but he kept on going.

 

The man was black, early twenties, muscular, shaved head.  Could he have found anyone more different from Justin?  'Don’t think like that,' he told himself.

 

It was no time till he was leading the man to the backroom.  He gave Brian a passable blowjob, but he was nothing to write home about.  Once it was done, Brian headed out to the dance floor without a word to the trick.  He had needed to get blown.  It had been almost a week since he had had sex, and that was much too long.  One more price to pay for Justin and his so-called love.  He didn’t feel a whole lot better, but he had made his statement.  Nothing had changed.  Justin’s infidelity (Christ, where did he get these words?) had not destroyed him.

 

He found them all near the bar, seemingly awaiting his return.

 

“How was it?” Ted had enough nerve to ask.

 

“Peachy,” said Brian, giving him a withering look.

 

That seemed to shut them up.  He ordered a double vodka and downed it in one gulp.  He wasn’t nearly drunk enough, so he ordered another.

 

Ben walked over to him.  'Here goes,' he thought.  “Evening , Ben.  How’ve you been?”

 

“Much better lately.  How are you?”

 

“Just dandy.  Why do you ask?”  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.  Ben would be sure to tell him.

 

“Look, Brian, I know it’s none of my business, but ...”

 

“You’re right.  It is none of your business,” Brian interrupted him.

 

“But,” Ben continued, “I’m going to say this for your own good.”

 

“Like I could stop you.”

 

“I know Justin cheated on you and hurt you.”  Brian started to protest, but Ben would not be stopped.  “He’s young and still has a lot to learn, but he really loved, loves, you.  You took matters into your own hands and drove him away, probably thinking it was for the good of both of you.  I don’t know all that went on, but I want you to be sure that you don’t burn all of your bridges.  You may regret it later if you do.  He may want to come back and you may need him.  If that happens, give it another chance.  That’s all I have to say.”

 

“What makes you think you know what’s right for me?”

 

“I’ve seen Justin’s effect on you, and it has been for the good.”

 

“In your opinion.”

 

“Yes, in my opinion, for whatever it’s worth.”

 

“Maybe it’s not worth much.”

 

“Maybe not, but I want you to think carefully about this.  You could be destroying your life and Justin’s too.”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Enough said. I’ve given you my two cents worth.  Take it or leave it,” Ben concluded.

 

“I think I’ll leave it,” Brian said.

 

Ben shrugged and walked over to Michael, pulling him out onto the dance floor.

 

Brian watched them move away.  Ben was too smart for his own good.  All Brian needed right now was unsolicited advice, but he had heard what Ben had said and he did respect his opinion.  Did Ben think there was still a chance for him and Justin?  That’s what it sounded like to Brian.  Why would he think that?  Did he know something that Brian didn’t?  Could his sunshine come back and make him happy?

 

'Stop it, Kinney!' Brian screamed inside his head.  “You’ll make yourself crazy with might have been’s and should be’s.  Fuck Ben and his mind games.” 

 

Brian finished another vodka and thought about leaving.  If he wanted to really put on a show, he should take a trick home with him.  Looking over the possible choices, he didn’t see anyone who really appealed to him.  No one had the right eyes, Justin’s eyes, or the right hair, Justin’s hair.  No one was Justin.  “Fuck it,” Brian said to no one in particular, and he headed out of Babylon.

 

The drive home was not a happy one.  He kept thinking about Ben’s words, and the hope they implied.  He didn’t want hope.  He wanted to be the heartless, uncaring shit that everyone knew and despised before he met Justin.  He wanted to be who he used to be, or at least who he had pretended to be.  Hope led to longing and pain, and he had had enough of both of those.  With a few short sentences Ben had cancelled all of his hard work trying to get his life back to normal.  He wasn’t even sure what he thought normal was anymore.  Was normal being without Justin?  Was normal the way he used to be?  He was trying to go back to the way he used to be, but it wasn’t making him happy or giving him any peace.

 

“Christ, peace and happiness.  I sound like a fucking Christmas card.  What’s happening to me?  And now I’m talking to myself.”

 

Brian pulled up in front of the loft.  He laid his forehead on the steering wheel and closed his eyes.  He needed to get a grip.  Things were getting out of hand.  Not good for a control freak.  Maybe if he listened to the song, he could calm himself and regain control of his so-called life without Justin.

 

He climbed the stairs to the loft, taking each step slowly and carefully.  He felt a great weight on his shoulders.  He had to make some big decisions, and for once he was unsure which way to go.

 

There was one person he had yet to speak to since the “Rage” bash.  He had been avoiding her, fearing that she would see through the facade.  She had a way of doing that, cutting through the crap, often knowing him better than he knew himself.  But now he felt the need to talk to Lindsay, have her point him in the right direction.  It was one o’clock in the morning.  She and Mel and Gus would all be asleep.  He couldn’t call tonight, as much as he wanted to.

 

He knew it was going to be a long night.  He turned on the song, grabbed a bottle of Beam and crashed on the sofa.  He had a lot of thinking to do before he talked to Lindsay.  Since he doubted that he would get any sleep, he would have hours to contemplate his future.