Resist

Part 6

Brian tossed and turned in his bed. He could see Justin clearly, smiling at him, wanting him. And he wanted Justin back. Justin was holding him, caressing him, kissing him, sucking him. They were so hot together, but there was another emotion involved too. Brian leaned in and kissed those soft, sweet lips. And then Justin's face was replaced with Gerry's and all hell broke loose. Brian awoke with a start. He was sweating profusely and his heart pounded in his chest.

This was the fourth night in a row that Brian had had some version of this dream. It always started with Justin and ended with Gerry, with what happened to Gerry. Brian got up and went into the bathroom where he splashed water on his face. The dark rings under his eyes were proof of how little sleep he was getting. He was afraid to sleep. The dream would always come.

He went back to his room and sat on the side of the bed. He clasped his hands in front of him. His eyes fell upon the dark letters of the tattoo hidden on the inside of his middle finger. It said "RESIST". He thought for a moment about why he had that tattoo and what it meant. It was part of his history in Ireland, part of what he had come here to escape.

But now it meant something else. He was going to resist Justin Taylor. He was going to take back control of his mind and his body and his heart. He was going to get away from the temptation that Justin Taylor represented.

He looked at the clock. It was three in the morning. That would make it eight o'clock in Ireland. He decided what he was going to do. He quietly made his way down the stairs and dialed his home number in Londonderry, along with all the things you do to make a collect call. His aunt and uncle didn't like him charging overseas calls to their number even if he promised to pay them later.

"Da?" Brian said when the call went through.

"Brian? Is that you son? How are you? Is anything wrong?" Brian's father asked.

"Yes, yes, fine and yes," Brian replied in that smartass annoying way of his.

"What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"No, Da. Nothing serious," Brian lied. "I … I just … I want to come home." Brian ran his fingers through his hair frowning and holding his breath till he heard his father's reaction.

"Isn't school going well?"

"School's fine," Brian said rubbing his hand over his face. He just had to get out of here.

"Then you need to stay. You know why."

"I know, but…" Brian didn't know how to explain. His father waited and Brian fumbled for the words to convince him. "I miss Ireland. I miss you and Ma. I've straightened myself out and everything will be fine. I promise."

Mr. Kinney sighed. "I don't know, Brian. Things haven't changed much since you left."

"But … couldn't I go to school in Belfast or even Dublin, somewhere where no one knows me, but closer to home?"

Another long sigh. "I don't know."

"Please, Da. I can't stay here anymore."

"I … I don't know, Brian. You know how things were when you left. I don't think it's a good idea for you to come back yet."

"Please, Da," Brian begged. He could feel tears building. He wanted to be strong but he knew he needed to get away from Justin Taylor just as he had needed to get away from the memory of Gerry.

"Okay, okay, son," his father responded hearing the pain in his child's voice. "You can always come home. You know that. Just give it another week or two and see how it goes. In the meantime I'll look for a cheap ticket back … if you need to use it."

"Thanks, Da," Brian said taking a deep breath and knowing that he would be using that ticket as soon as his father got it. He hung up the phone.

-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----

Brian walked out of the Humanities building the next day. He really enjoyed the philosophy class he was taking. He would miss it when he went back to Ireland. He hoped his father got him a fucking airline ticket soon. He was sick of having that dream.

"Brian, Brian," a voice called.

Brian turned and tried to stifle a groan. "Lindsay, good to see you," he responded with a fake smile. He had been trying to avoid Lindsay for the last few days.

"Where have you been lately?"

"Around."

"Well, I haven't seen you at the coffee place or the bookstore."

He had changed his schedule at the bookstore for that very reason. "I have to run," he said and started away.

"Wait," Lindsay pleaded. "Please, Brian. What's going on?"

"I don't want to fucking talk about anything. Leave me alone, please."

"I can't do that. I care about you. I know something went terribly wrong after the life class. Please tell me what happened."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," Brian said abruptly.

Lindsay watched as he walked away from her. She would have to try something else. Maybe Daphne could talk some sense into these two idiots. They were making each other's life miserable.

-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----

"Brian, Brian," a female voice called to Brian as he walked out of his English class.

He looked up to see Daphne leaning against the wall apparently waiting for him. He groaned once again. Why couldn't these women leave him alone, stay out of his life? "Daphne," he said giving her the same fake smile he had given Lindsay.

"Would you come have coffee with me?" Daphne asked falling into step with Brian.

"Thank you for the lovely invitation, but I can't," he said with total insincerity dripping from his tongue.

"Please," she cajoled him.

"I'm going to the library," Brian said curtly.

"I need to talk to you."

"I don't think so."

"Brian, don't be rude. This is important."

"I don't think so," he repeated.

"Well, I do. Humor me, will you?"

"Give it a fucking rest, Daphne. I don't want to talk about Justin Taylor."

"There are some things you should know."

"I know all I want to know about that asshole, so leave me alone."

"But … there are extenuating circumstances," Daphne said trying to get Brian to listen.

"No extenuating circumstances are going to change the attitudes that Justin Taylor holds so dear, nor are they going to convince me to think differently of him."

"How can you know that when you don't know what those circumstances are?"

"You mean that Justin has been hurt a couple of times?" Brian demanded. "I don't suppose it ever crossed yours or Lindsay's tiny mind that maybe I've been hurt too? Or that I don't want to be put into a position where I'll get hurt again? It's always all about Justin Taylor and I'm fucking sick of it." Brian had been raising his voice as they walked and people were starting to notice.

"Brian, I'm sorry if it seems like we're taking Justin's side. We want you both to be happy."

"That's not going to happen with that fucking cruel piece of shit named Justin Taylor, so stop harassing me about it."

"Come, sit over here with me. Please! Just for a minute?" Daphne begged. She tugged on his hand dragging him towards a bench that might give them a little privacy.

Reluctantly Brian allowed himself to be pulled along. "Daphne, there's no fucking point."

"I think there is," she said seriously.

"Who died and made you God?"

"I'm not God, but I have eyes. You two want each other."

"I fucking know that! But I'm not willing to be treated like a goddam trick who comes at Justin's beck and call and then is discarded like a used condom."

"What a lovely analogy," she said sarcastically.

Brian snorted. "I want more than Justin is able to give. He may want me but that's not enough, not the way he does things."

"I think it could be more than 'want'," Daphne said softly, making quotation marks with her fingers.

"I don't think so."

"Have you seen Justin lately?"

"No, and I don't want to."

"He's lost, Brian. He doesn't know what to do."

"That's his problem."

"You don't look much better. Those circles under your eyes tell me that you are not sleeping very well."

"It's none of your fucking business."

"Justin is my business. He's been my friend for a long time. And I'd like to think that you're my friend too."

Brian stared into her dark eyes. He knew she meant well. He understood her desire for Justin and him to be together. He wanted that too, but they were too screwed up for anything good to come out of this.

"I can't do this, Daphne. I just can't."

Brian stood abruptly and started walking away. He heard Daphne softly call his name once. He kept walking. She didn't follow him, thank God!

-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----~~~~-----

"Brian," a voice called to him. Brian stopped. He knew who it was. Justin Taylor was finally condescending to talk to him. "Brian," the voice repeated.

"What the fuck do you want?" Brian asked rounding on his one time fuck.

"I … I want to talk to you."

"We have nothing to say to each other. You made that pretty clear after the life class."

"Maybe things have changed," Justin said hesitantly.

Brian stared into those fucking blue eyes that did such things to his body and his heart. "Changed?" he asked trying not to get his hopes up. They were standing in the middle of the quad with the world passing by.

"Would you come to my room so we can talk in private?" Justin asked looking scared and nervous about people hearing their conversation.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Brian responded.

"Please," Justin begged.

"Okay," Brian gave in. "But just to talk."

They walked to Justin's building in silence, each wondering where this was going and if they could settle anything.

Brian knew this was probably a big mistake, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to hear what Justin had to say. He was still holding out some fucking kind of hope that maybe Justin had real feelings for him. He knew the man had become his obsession. He was what was driving him back to Ireland and whatever fucked up fate awaited him there. He took a deep breath and wondered what the next few minutes would hold for him.

Justin found his breath coming in short gasps. He was next thing to hyperventilating. He felt things for Brian Kinney that he had not allowed himself to feel for months. He was such a fucking idiot when it came to this type of thing. He had screwed up his other relationships. They had all left him. He still didn't know if he could risk taking that chance again. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Brian, but he knew he had to do something. He couldn't get the man out of his head.

Once the door closed behind them they stared at each other unsure where to go from there.

"You wanted to talk, so talk," Brian stated flatly.

"Daphne and Lindsay told me that I had made you very unhappy. I … I'm sorry."

"Sorry's a crock of shit and you're fucking full of it," Brian retorted. He didn't think Justin was sorry at all. The girls had probably forced him to say that. Besides there were a lot of things he wanted from Justin Taylor, but pity wasn't one of them.

"I've thought a lot about what you said after life class," Justin began, taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders. This was going to be hard. "I did treat you like a trick, but you were more than that. I … I can't get you out of my mind."

Brian stared into Justin's eyes. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He swallowed and then licked his lips. "I can't stop thinking about you either," Brian admitted.

"I want you so much," Justin said in a breathy voice.

"Oh Christ!" Brian cried and threw himself against Justin.

Their bodies collided knocking the breath from both of them. Their mouths found each other pressing and sucking and biting. They moaned as their hands grabbed at clothing pulling and tearing it away. They needed skin against skin. Nothing could get in the way. Nothing could stop them.

They toppled onto the bed still kissing and sucking and caressing and grabbing. Justin quickly entered Brian and they both gasped and stopped at the sensation. It was what they had both been longing for ever since the first time. It was what they had been dreaming of every night since that first time. It had been inevitable. They both knew that now.

Justin pounded into Brian pouring out all the frustration and guilt he had been forced to deal with for the last couple of weeks. This man did something to him that no one had ever done before. Brian could break his resolve, not just break it, completely demolish it. He had refused to let this happen with anyone else and he had always been able to push them away even if he wanted them again. This was different. He had known that the night they had spent together and that was part of what frightened him so much.

Brian felt Justin driving into him and he relished every stroke. He had wanted this so much since that first night. He had Justin now, and no Gerry. Maybe he could put that dream, that nightmare, to rest. He bucked back egging Justin on. He wanted to show Justin that he was his match, his equal. He could take it all and beg for more. He wanted to show Justin that he would never hurt him. All he wanted was to give him pleasure and love him.

"God, Brian, I'm close," Justin whispered as he bit at Brian's neck.

"Me too," Brian gasped.

Justin's hand found Brian's cock and began tugging in time with his strokes. In a flash they were both coming, long and hard. They collapsed spent on the bed on top of each other. Finally they rolled apart still sucking in air and overwhelmed by the feelings they created in each other.

Justin turned his head and found those amazing gold flecked eyes staring at him. He blinked and turned away. He could not deal with what he saw there.

Brian winced. Justin was turning away from him again. He could feel it. How could they be so connected one minute and so far apart the next? He knew he had to do something before Justin kicked him out again.

"Justin," he said softly and waited for the man to reply.

"What?" Justin asked keeping the harshness out of his voice. He was scared and overwrought and he needed to think.

"I would never hurt you," Brian whispered.

Justin knew then that the girls had told Brian his history and that made him angry. He didn't want pity or sympathy. "You can't guarantee that," he said harshly. "Nobody can."

"But I would never be like those others. I love you."

"I don't fucking believe in love. There's no such thing. It's just a stupid sham that people play at for awhile until they get tired of each other and move on."

"No," Brian said softly. He wanted to say again that he loved Justin, but he was afraid of the reaction that might produce. He kept his mouth shut.

"You can say no all you want, but that won't make it true," Justin said with ice in his voice. No matter how much he wanted to believe that maybe he and Brian could have something, there was a part of him that refused to believe it, that was too scared to believe it, that couldn't stand another hurt.

"So what the fuck do we do now?" Brian asked sitting up and looking down at Justin.

"Fuck if I know," Justin said cruelly.

Brian felt like he had been sliced open once again. He had intended to talk, only talk, when he had come to Justin's room. Instead he had just repeated the fucking colossal mistake he had made the first time. He pushed himself off the end of the bed. He scrabbled around in the clothes strewn across the room to find his own. His T-shirt had a big tear around the neck. He put it on anyway. His jeans had a button missing. He got those on somehow not bothering to look for his underwear. He found his shoes and didn't bother with the socks.

His hand reached for the doorknob and then he stopped. Neither man had spoken. He turned to look at Justin Taylor. The blue eyes blinked and looked away. He thought he might have seen a touch of sorrow or compassion in the beautiful eyes. But whatever it was that he saw there, it was too little, too late. He turned the knob, pulled the door open and walked out. He refused to look back as he silently shut the door behind him.

He walked down the stairs and out of the building. His eyes stung in the bright light outside. He knew he wanted to cry, but no more. He would never cry again. He had cried for Gerry and then for Justin. What had that got him? More heartache and misery. He was through with all that. He would become a cold, heartless bastard like Justin Taylor. No one would ever hurt him again. He had decided and he could be one stubborn Irishman when he put his mind to something. No one would hurt him again, and he just might relish hurting others. That was the way of the world, at least it was here in North America. That was a lesson he would take back to Ireland with him. And that was where he was going, back to Ireland, back home, back where he belonged.

The tears did not come. He would not let them. He held his head high and walked across the quad. He had a shift at the bookstore and he would do it just like nothing had ever happened. No one would know that his heart had just been broken, shattered.

Suddenly he heard his name being called. He looked over and saw Lindsay and Daphne sitting on the cement bench built around a planter. They smiled at him and waved like everything was right with their world. They probably expected him to go over there and tell them all the details of what had happened with Justin. He was tempted to do that, but he didn't think a screaming and cursing match from the new exchange student would make a very good impression. Besides he didn't have the energy left to do it. It was taking all of his reserves to stop the tears and to keep himself upright.

He looked at the smiling girls, raised his finger in the single digit salute that was universally recognized and kept walking towards the bookstore.

His short and painful time in America was almost over. His father had better have found him a ticket, because one way or another he was going back to Ireland by the end of the week.

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