Homecoming
*11*
Author's Note: If some of that is a little cryptic (cos you've totally forgotten what Brian and Em talked about - Emmett wanted to hold a housewarming at the mansion, when they broke the news they'd sold it, Brian went on to say he could hold one at the new place. This is significant for the boys because in the final chapter of Reverb, they'd decided instead of a wedding to celebrate their commitment with a housewarming at the mansion. It was going to be their statement about making a life together. Of course it got called off when Justin headed/was pushed off to New York.
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Brian
He didn't really react at the time, so I don't know if he noticed my little slip
up with Emmett. I don't know whether to hope he did, or he didn't. He'd have a
right to be pissed. I should have discussed it with him … with my partner …
first … at least to establish what it means. If we go ahead and do it, would it
still mean the same thing? Could it? But at the time I was floating a fucking
mile high and my mouth ran away with me. Which should fucking say something
about how fucking amazing I feel at the moment with him here beside me.
While I'm wondering whether or not to bring up the subject, not to mention what
the fuck to say, he does it for me.
We're sitting on the couch, close enough to be able to `accidentally'
brush our arms, our thighs together fairly frequently while we eat our dinner. I
can't seem to fucking stop needing to touch him. And he's not exactly objecting.
He sucks a stray noodle between those full soft lips, and while I'm mesmerized
by the sight of it disappearing into his mouth, he looks up and catches me
watching.
He runs his tongue sensuously over his lips in the cheesiest fucking tease
routine I've ever seen, then grins at me.
"So … a housewarming party, huh?" he asks.
Fucker! This is fucking huge and he's just pulled a major distraction.
I shift in my seat a little and look down at my plate, trying to get my dick to
behave and let me get my thoughts together; trying to work out whether I'm
ready, whether I have the fucking balls to go for it … again. Then I look up
into his eyes.
I take a deep breath and say, hoping my voice is steady, " It seems … like the
right time for one." I struggle with my vocal cords for a second, and then put
it all on the line and ask, "Don't you think?"
His eyes swim and I know he hears what I'm really asking. His fingers somehow
wrap themselves around mine. Then he smiles.
"Yes," he says.
Justin
I want to leap around and cheer and laugh like a maniac and at the same time I
want to weep for all the time that has passed since we gave up on our first
attempt at celebrating what the housewarming party represents for us.
When I came home on Thursday night - just a couple of days ago - I hardly dared
hope we'd ever get back to this point. Let alone get there so soon.
But …
It all feels so right, so natural. Like this is the way it was meant to be all
along. I sure as hell feel more … linked … to the new house than I ever could
imagine feeling to the mansion - fond as my memories of that are always going to
be. Although I've enjoyed the short time we've spent there, it was hard to
picture us really living there.
But the new place, Dan's place, it really does feel like it's just been waiting
for us.
And in a way, I feel like we've been waiting for us, too. Which is weird,
because the time just before I left for New York - the timeafter the bombing -
that was the best things have ever been with Brian. Till now. I thought we had
it all worked out and that we could just get on with our lives. But I guess
there was this one more thing that we had to learn - or else it could have
tripped us up even more badly later.
We had to learn - both of us - that there is only so much that is worth
sacrificing for your "career". That your life is more important. That having a
good life, a whole life, is far more important than selling more pictures - or
more advertising either come to that.
I think if I hadn't gone to New York then something else would have come along
eventually, and I would have chased that, or been pushed to chase that, or like
with New York, both, really. And it could have been even worse than it has been.
At least this way, we both know now. I'm not going to let him push me off any
Kinney cliffs in the future in the name of my career. And more importantly, he's
promised that he won't do that.
So now we really can get on with things.
I left him for someone else, and came back - a bit battered and bruised inside,
but much much wiser - and he took me back. I think he knows that I won't do that
again. I left him for LA and came back with my tail between my legs and maybe he
felt that if things had worked out in LA I might never have come back. But this
time … this time, I left him, I did what I needed to do, and I came home because
home is where he is and the only place I want to be - and I think he gets that
now. I really think that we both get it.
Just like I know that I can't keep doing this to him. I mean - I knew that he
missed me, of course I knew that. But I will never in all my life forget the
pain in his eyes when I walked in that door the other night and I will never,
never fucking do that to him again. I couldn't live with myself if I did.
From now on, he comes first.
Which reminds me … I made him a promise last night. It's time I started
following up on it.
I pick up his phone and dial while he raises one of those eyebrows in that look
of his wondering what the fuck I'm doing when we should be discussing the
housewarming and all it means, should be planning our future, or at least
fucking our way into it. Well that will have to wait just a little. I am working
on our future. This is part of it.
She sees the number and thinks it's Brian of course. When she answers her voice
is that weird mix of syruppy tender and defensive that she so often uses with
him.
"Hi, Linds," I say.
TBC
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