Acknowledging Fears

Chapter 19

When they returned home, Justin followed Brian into the bedroom, half-expecting the man to drop his clothes where he stood. He watched in silence as Brian turned to walk into the bathroom. Starting to follow, he paused when Brian said, "No."

Fighting the instant feeling of hurt, Justin simply nodded. He undressed and lay down on the bed waiting for Brian to return. As he heard the water turn on, Justin knew what was happening. That even though Brian had let him see him naked, he still needed the privacy. That he still didn't want to share more with his young lover. It occurred to Justin that what he was doing wasn't fair, that even Brian had a right to his dignity. But when half an hour passed and Brian hadn't emerged from the shower, griping about being pruned, Justin got up and walked into the bathroom. Nothing he'd imagined prepared him for the sight that greeted him. Brian had curled up in the corner of the shower, heedless of the water sluicing down on him, and had wrapped his arms about himself as he rocked.

Oh God, Justin thought. He opened the door and said softly, "Brian." Stepping inside he knelt down and said his name again, louder this time. There was no response and Justin stood to turn off the water when he felt a hand on his leg. There were shadows in Brian's eyes and he'd gone pale.

"Justin," Brian said tentatively.

"Yeah, Bri," he said, kneeling down next to him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his lover and comfort him but knew it had to be Brian's call.

Brian forced himself to focus on Justin's face and not the memories that assailed him. Struggling to stand, Brian looked down at his lover and read the concern in Justin's eyes. "I'm okay," he muttered, knowing he wasn't convincing anyone. Justin merely looked at him. And Brian began to shiver uncontrollably.

Reaching for a towel, Justin wrapped it around his lover. He guided Brian into the bedroom, waiting as Brian allowed himself to be positioned on the bed, looking up at him with a distant expression. Justin rummaged through the closet for another blanket and was shocked to hear Brian begin to speak. "Justin," he began. The blond slowly turned to look at him.

"Yeah," he said, knowing that sex was the furthest thing from Brian's mind at the moment. Hell, he looked like a half-drowned kitten.

Brian looked at him, forcing himself to focus on the blond in the present and not memories of the past. "When you went out that night to see Hobbs, I was terrified for you. Daphne had paid me a visit at Kinnetik, expressing her own worries. And I knew that you only had that little fuck as backup. I sat here at the loft, trying to imagine the best case scenario even though my brain wanted to focus on the worst possible images. I kept seeing you lying on the cold concrete because of Hobbs. And now the only thing I could think was that it was happening again. Only this time you had a fucking gun."

Justin met Brian's eyes, reading the pain and worry in the hazel depths. "When you came home that night, you just crawled into bed with me and let me hold you. But we didn't talk. And I lay awake until dawn, watching you sleep. Do you know what it's like hearing the phone ring and fearing that you're about to learn that your partner is in the hospital? Or even worse in the fucking County Morgue?"

Shaking his head, Justin began to tremble. This was why he didn't do therapy. It wasn't because it was too revealing, it was because of the aftermath. "I walked away, Brian. I put that gun in Hobbs' mouth, letting him taste the fear I'd experienced at his hand. I felt my finger drawing back on the trigger but I couldn't do it. And you know why?"

"No," Brian said.

"Because for the same reasons you stopped with capping him, I knew that hurting Hobbs wouldn't give me back our lost time. It wouldn't bring back those days I spent in a coma or the nights you stalked the corridor at the hospital, watching me sleep. It wouldn't bring back the full function in my right hand. It wouldn't solve a motherfucking thing, Brian. And the face I focused on as I walked away as Cody yelled those invectives at me was yours."

For once Brian couldn't even muster up the arrogance to tease him about that. "So I'm the reason you walked away."

"No," Justin clarified. "I'm the reason I walked away. But you were the motivation. I kept thinking about you and how this whole thing hurt you as much as it did me. It was incredibly selfish of me to say that you weren't the one who got bashed. In many ways, you did get bashed. Just not with a baseball bat. You got bashed with the realization that you cared about what happened to me, that I mattered to you."

Slowly Brian forced himself to nod. No use denying that he cared about what happened to Justin. Or that their excursion to the armpit of hell tonight was ill-advised. "Come here," he said, voice soft.

Justin hesitated and Brian said, "Don't make me beg." But I'll beg if I fucking have to. If that's what you need.

Settling down next to him, Justin smelled the scent of Brian's shampoo and cologne. "I'm sorry," Brian said softly. "I was an asshole tonight."

"So was I. But you were right. If I can't be there for you, we're fucked."

"Can you?"

Justin maneuvered himself so that he lay atop Brian without putting his full weight on the man. "Yeah, I can."

"Justin, how do you feel about me?" I can't believe I'm actually asking him this, Brian thought. When did I turn into a lesbian?

Recognizing the oddity of the question and the implicit need, Justin kissed him gently. And felt relieved when Brian began to respond in kind. Kissing his eyelids and nose and cheeks and lips, Justin began to work his way down. "Sunshine?"

Looking at him, he said, "Yeah, Bri."

"Go slow. I may need to stop."

Understanding that this was a watershed moment, he simply nodded. He kissed his way down Brian's stomach, mouth followed by tongue. He reached Brian's groin and looked at his partner. Brian's eyes were heavy-lidded and he simply nodded. He was willing to give himself over to the sensations of having Justin make love to him. And that was what it was: Justin was making love to him. There was nothing frenzied about this experience, Brian realized as he felt Justin kiss his penis. This was not fucking, he acknowledged. Then he felt his mouth begin to gently lap at his balls, carefully drawing one inside, sucking on it. When his tongue traced the scar, Brian found himself grabbing the sheets for purchase. But Justin was incredibly gentle and Brian began to relax. Justin moved and said, voice muffled, "What do you want me to do?"

"Lick my shaft. See if you can get me hard enough."

"You okay?"

Brian nodded even though Justin couldn't see it. "Yeah, so far. Just go slow."

Justin ran his tongue from base to tip and tip to base, tracing the vein that ran along the upperside of Brian's shaft. He was rewarded with a tiny drop of pre-cum and closed his mouth over the head, hand moving up and down as he sucked gently and then harder. Felt Brian's hands fist in his hair and knew he was doing something right. Getting into it, he sucked him into a nearly full hard-on before letting him slip free. He knelt on all fours and looked at Brian.

Moving to his knees, Brian looked down at himself and then reached for the tube of lube and a condom. Lubing himself up and stroking to make himself harder, Brian rolled the condom over himself. Then lubed Justin's asshole, positioning the head of his penis at the hole, he looked down at himself and realized to his chagrin and frustration, that he was deflating. Fuck, he thought. God, this can't be happening to me. He pulled away from Justin, patting his ass and Justin collapsed face first onto the bed. Sitting at the end of the bed, Brian put his head in his hands. I will not cry, he thought. I will not fucking cry. He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew Justin was behind him.

"Don't say anything," Brian said, wishing for a cigarette.

"I'm sure it's just a temporary setback," Justin responded.

Fighting back a vicious response, Brian stood instead. He returned to his side of the bed, and lay down on his side, facing away from Justin. Justin stared at him and then realized the futility of trying to comfort him. It wasn't going to solve anything. This problem wouldn't be solved in one day. Or even a week, he thought. He could only imagine just how miserable Brian felt.

Cradling his own pillow, Justin faced away from Brian, feeling the gulf between them spread even wider. Brian slipped into sleep but there was nothing blissful about it. Justin lay there looking out into the darkened loft for a long time. Finally, he slid out of bed and walked silently down to the futon mattress that they'd thrown on the floor in lieu of a sofa. It also helped when they couldn't make it to the bedroom in time. But now he wrapped himself in a comforter and tried to fall asleep.

Awakened by something, Brian rolled to find he was alone in bed. He sat up and looked about him. "Justin," he said. There was no immediate response so he crawled to the end of the bed and looked down into the main area of the loft. He could see a bright head among the covers of the futon mattress. Oh, hell, he thought. Standing, he crept down the stairs and slid in behind Justin, drawing the comforter over them both. Not understanding why he suddenly couldn't bear the thought of an empty bed, Brian wrapped his arms around the sleeping man and drew him closer, drawing comfort from Justin's scent.

When they awoke hours later, Justin realized that he wasn't alone. Turning slightly, he saw that Brian was sleeping beside him. Gently kissing his lips, he whispered, "Morning, Bri."

Slowly the hazel eyes opened and he grumbled, "You made me sleep on the floor again. I thought we weren't going to do that."

Justin couldn't help grinning. "You didn't have to join me down here. You could have slept in your nice warm bed without me."

"Wasn't nice. Wasn't warm." Brian said, realizing that he'd adopted a petulant voice. "Couldn't sleep."

Reading the underlying subtext that lay buried in Brian's words, Justin simply moved closer to him. "What's on your agenda today?" he asked.

Brian rolled onto his back and said, "Meeting with my attorney about my will and the domestic partnership agreement. Call your mother to see if we can move up our lunch. Think I need to tell her everything. And take you to the Institute. Pick you up and come back here for dinner. Did I leave anything out?"

Justin hadn't really heard anything Brian had said after the words domestic partnership agreement. "Um, Bri," he said, relieved that his voice didn't squeak like a pre-adolescent whose balls hadn't dropped yet.

"Yeah, Sunshine."

"Domestic partnership agreement?"

"Oh, that," Brian said as nonchalantly as he could. "Yeah, I think we need to file one."

Cupping Brian's chin, Justin forced him to meet his eyes. "You think marriage is only for straight people. That it's an antiquated notion that has no foundation among queers. That it's bullshit. So why on earth would you want us to have a DPA?"

Realizing he wasn't going to get out of this one so easily, Brian sighed. "It's for our protection. I want you to be protected and us legal. That's not saying that anything will change between us. I certainly don't want the guys to know. This is just between us. You dig?"

"You said dig," Justin said, chortling. But he understood fully the serious nature of what Brian was suggesting. "Yeah, I understand. You said something about your will."

"I knew that would peak your interest," Brian said. "The thought of my money."

"Grr," Justin growled. "I don't want your fucking money, Brian."

"Simmer down, Simba," Brian said. "I know you're not with me because of money. If that was it you'd have bailed when I had to sell everything to pay for those ads." His tone turned more serious as he said, "I'm leaving you the loft. There are some stocks that you could liquidate if you needed to. Also, I want you to be a silent partner in Kinnetik."

"Huh?"

Brian sat up, pulling Justin back against his chest. "Did I suddenly speak Farsi?"

"No," Justin answered. "Be serious."

"I'm trying to be serious. If the cancer comes back and I need to go into chemo, I want you on the board. It's only fair considering you helped think of the concept."

"It's your baby, Brian. And I don't know much about corporations."

"It's a legal business, Sunshine. I want you to be able to cut the checks and run the administrative side of things with Theodore's help if you had to. If I was down for the count, I want someone I trust at the helm."

"What about Cynthia? She's been your assistant for eight years. She knows the business. I don't."

Brian suppressed a sigh. "Cynthia's phenomenal. There's a reason she's the creative director along with being my personal assistant. But I want my partner to be co-partner in the business. You don't have to get involved now if you don't want. I know you never wanted to do business, that you felt it was Daddy's world and not yours. But I need this."

Justin tilted his head up. "You realize that you're making us more public than you ever intended, right? That you're saying that Brian Kinney is in a relationship?"

"What do you think the party launching Kinnetik was about, Sunshine? I introduced you to that group, knowing full well that I was letting them know that I had a partner. This is expanding that partnership. Like I said it's a contingency plan. Contingent on me being knocked out by chemo. And, despite my comments to the contrary, I know we're in a relationship. I wouldn't have taken you to fucking couples counseling if I didn't recognize that little fact." What's next, he wondered, Dr. Phil?

"And the will?"

"Basically says that what I have is yours with the exception of a few things that I have designated for Michael or Debbie."

"Money?"

Brian narrowed his eyes and gave him a penetrating look. "When I was scrambling for funds after Stockwell, you offered me money. I refused it because of my pride. You said that I wouldn't even allow you to pay for a fucking drink because I always had to be on top. Well, grasshopper, I'm bending a little. You went behind my back and engineered a mini-fundraiser to save my ass. I'm paying for you to go to the Institute. But we haven't said much about us. So I think we need to address that." Suddenly standing Brian walked to his desk and pulled out a huge portfolio along with his checkbook.

He handed Justin the portfolio and said, "You need to read this." Handing him the checkbook, he added, "I've added you on to my account so you can draw from this."

"Brian, I----"

"You always wanted us to be a 'we', Justin. Now we are. I just don't want it said on Liberty Avenue that I'm dick-whipped. But this is something you and I need. I trust you. I know you won't go jetting off to NYC again. I know you won't take advantage of this. But in an emergency situation it doesn't make sense that you can't make any financial decisions."

Justin stared at him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No," Brian admitted, the words seemingly torn from somewhere deep within. "But it's fucking ridiculous to deny that you and I are together. We're partners, Justin. The state should recognize that."

"So what do you think about gay marriage? You've always been so against it." He understood he was broaching a dangerous topic.

Brian sat down and took a deep breath. One of these days, he realized, I'm going to have to tell him what happened at the White Party. That I caught that fucking bouquet and didn't drop it immediately. Instead, Brian recalled, I stood there dancing with it. "I don't see gay marriage for myself or for us. But that doesn't mean that I think couples like Lindsay and Melanie or Michael and Ben shouldn't have the option of getting married. Legally married, not some ceremony that isn't legal. If Ben's viral load drops again and he ends up in the hospital, Michael should have the right to make medical decisions. Just because they suck each other's dicks doesn't mean that they shouldn't have the same respect accorded to them that breeders do. I think it sucks that you can't inherit. But I can protect you. You just aren't my next-of-kin. I'll be damned if my estate goes to my cunt of a sister. This DPA is for our protection. You don't have to use the accounts but the money is there if you need it."

"Why?"

"Because, Sunshine, despite my best efforts, it's patently obvious that you're not going anywhere. That I'm stuck with you." He said the last tongue-in-cheek.

Justin grinned but he couldn't help thinking this was a hollow victory. And a victory at Brian's expense was no victory at all.

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