"What if ..."

Brian was Home when Justin came to the Loft to Pack.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Justin walked into the foyer, and called out, "Brian!" He secretly prayed his ex-lover of less than 24 hours wasn't available, and he could just quickly gather his stuff and get out.  But who said luck was always on Justin's side? These days, Luck was getting off on kicking him in his ass.  He stopped mid-stride when he saw Brian lounging on the sofa.

"Shit."

"Is that my name, or an expression," Brian asked sardonically.  He knew the blond was not expecting him to be home.

"Fuck you!"

"You've already done that."

"No, Brian - don't spring this on me.  You did a pretty good job of fucking yourself last night.  Besides, why aren't you at work?"

"I took the day off to contemplate what happened last night - nope, had a mother of a hangover."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Look, did you come here to get your shit, or to insult me?"

"You know what?  I'll come at another time."

"Why bother?  You're already here - if you're so damn worried about my presence making you nervous, I assure you - I have no inclination to jump your bones anytime soon.  You're safe from the Evil Kinney hormones."

Justin turned and headed toward the door, unwilling to listen to any more of Brian's snide remarks and nasty comments.  "I'm not listening to this shit," he muttered as he fumbled with the door.  Brian got up from the sofa, and stood behind Justin.

"Wait," Brian said.  

Justin turned and looked at him skeptically, bracing himself for any verbal assault Brian decided to throw his way.  Brian stood before him, pained eyes lancing into Justin's confused ones.  

As much as he knew he'd hurt Justin, Justin had no idea how much Brian hurt.  He had a long talk with Lindsay on the phone earlier, and she basically told him to stop being selfish for once and lay it all on the line.  He argued with her and fired off his usual knee-jerk comments, but he knew she was right.  He knew he had only one chance to do this, and he couldn't fuck it up.

"Remember what you asked me two days ago?"

"What was that?"

"When you asked if I cared if you weren't here?"

"Yeah."

"I would."

Return to "What If"