![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
FIC: Lay Down The Load That You Carry ( QaF Brian/Justin, Brian-Michael, 30 Ballads)
Title: Lay Down The Load That You Carry
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
freakykat
Pairing: Brian-Michael, Brian/Justin
Theme: Mixed Theme, Country #24: "Sanctuary" - Jamie O'Neal
Rating: PG-15
Content: some swearing, drugs, drinking, slight angst
Word Count: 3080
Summary: You are my sanctuary.
Disclaimer: Don’t own Queer as Folk. They belong to CowLip, Ron and Dan and Showtime, who should have treated them better. I only like to play with them. When I’m done I’ll wipe them off and put them back.
A/N: Dedicated tokari77 for her birthday. Sorry it's belated, love. Also a request made from ryosato. She wanted Brian and Michael mourning The Swayze. I went with that theme. Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_ballads challenge Country #24: "Sanctuary" - Jamie O'Neal. Much thanks and love to my beta wouldbedorothy. Feedback appreaciated.
30 Ballad Challenges Table.
Lay Down The Load That You Carry
1987
They were sitting in the balcony - Brian’s legs stretched out across the empty aisle, soda in one hand - and Michael concentrated on the condensation dripping from the metal Pepsi can instead of the warmth of Brian’s head on his lap. He shifted in his seat, praying that Brian couldn’t feel anything Michael didn’t want him to.
His eyes stayed glued to the screen, and he smiled widely when Johnny walked into the ballroom, leather jacket glittering in the lights. This was his favorite part. Johnny rescuing Baby from a life in the corner. Brian rolled his eyes at that scene every time.
“She’ll be knocked up and miserable in two years,” he would say.
Michael’s eyes flicked to Brian’s face, watched it soften just a little before he remembered who he was and his face went blank again. He caught Michael’s gaze, raised an eyebrow, then turned back to the screen, handing him the joint.
He took a long drag, coughed only once, and slowly let the smoke trail out into the dark theater. Michael watched it cloud over their heads, thinning out the farther into the air it went, until it was nothing. His mind was getting fuzzy, stomach flipping when Brian moved his head to get a better view of the final dance.
Michael gritted his teeth, shifted again to make sure nothing was too obvious.
“Ouch, motherfucker!” he hissed out when Brian smacked his thigh.
“Then stop moving, asshole.”
Michael sighed. “Fuck you.”
They watched in silence as the lodge burst into dancing and color and life. Michael leaned his head back, watching Johnny’s slow movements and he wished very hard for his own version of Johnny. Someone who came into his life and blew him away. Someone who he could tell all his truths to. His eyes fell to Brian again and his heart did that strange pattern of beats it had started to do when he looked at him.
He could tell Brian anything.
“Brian, I’m gay.”
Brian choked on the inhale he had taken, rising up and sitting properly in his seat. His face was turning red and Michael hit him hard on his back. He didn’t want to kill his best friend.
“Mikey, what the fuck?” Brian was looking at him like he had suddenly sported a second head or cock or something. Well, probably not cock, since Brian couldn’t see that, but yeah.
“I just thought --”
Brian stared at him. “That’s it. No more smoking for you.”
“I just wanted to tell you.”
Brian rubbed his face. “Michael, we’ve spent hours extolling the virtues of the football team, my soccer coach, and Patrick fucking Swayze.” Brian waved a hand at the screen where Patrick and Jennifer’s faces were fading. “Not to mention that your cock has been boring a hole into my head for the past two hours - and it‘s not the first time - so what the fuck made you think I wasn’t aware you’re queer?”
Michael shrugged, face pinking, and turned away. “I just - I hadn’t actually ever said it out loud to you. I wanted to.”
There was a long stretch of silence, and then Michael felt Brian’s hand on his face, guided it to face him. He didn’t say anything, and Brian kissed him, soft, then pulled away. “Mikey, you are so pathetic.”
Michael grinned, dropping a quick kiss on Brian’s nose. “Yeah, I know.”
1998
Brian stood in the doorway, watching Michael wipe his face for the hundredth time in the last two weeks. His chest burned with his own unshed grief, but the truth was - Vic wasn’t dead. Not fucking yet. He was still fighting. Them crying over him wasn’t going to help him any.
Debbie was at the hospital. Her night for the vigil. Vic was strongest on the days after Debbie stayed. She browbeat him into getting better. She’d nag him all the way to death if she had to. She wouldn’t give up. He smiled a little. So fucking Debbie. He’d never admit how much he appreciated that nagging. Well, he didn’t like it aimed at him, but when it was other people, that was entertaining.
Michael leaned his head on Ted’s shoulder, sighing heavily, and Brian watched with some interest, something catching at his gut, but he pushed it away.
“For fuck’s sake. He’s not dead.”
Michael’s head jerked up, turning to Brian with angry eyes, and he spit out a curse or two. “So what? I can’t feel bad?”
“No.”
Ted scowled at him, standing up. “Brian, what the hell?”
Michael was standing up now, glaring at him. “Get out.”
Brian shook his head, taking his coat off and coming around, patting Ted’s shoulder as he walked by. “The fuck I will.” He pulled out the contents of the bag. Two bottles of tequila, a bag of his favorite pharmaceuticals, three tokes, and a movie. Ted moved closer, curiosity winning over annoyance. Brian handed him the first bottle of tequila, “Make yourself useful, Theodore. Get some glasses for this shit and start pouring.”
He turned back to Michael, listening to Ted move around in the kitchen.
“Stop it, Mikey.”
Michael narrowed his eyes at Brian. “Fuck you, Brian. Just because you don’t give a shit, doesn’t mean I don’t. I love him. He’s my uncle.”
Brian nodded. “Yeah. So maybe you can forget about your fucking feelings for a little while and try to remember that he’s the one going through the worst of this shit storm.” Michael shut his mouth, eyes boring into Brian’s. “Stop being a selfish little bitch and start helping him fight.”
Ted stood behind Brian, waiting to see what the next move would be. And whether he should take the liquor and lock himself in the closet to weather out the tantrum that was coming.
“I’m scared.”
Brian nodded. “I know.”
“He can’t die, Brian.”
“Mikey. He will. Maybe not now. But, he will. You just have to learn --”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t want to learn. I just -- can you let me be a selfish little bitch for just tonight?”
Brian sent Ted a look, motioning for him to sit down, then turned back to Michael. “We can do that. But tomorrow -”
“No more. I promise.”
Brian heard Ted sigh and he glanced at him. He looked like shit. Bags under his eyes, five o’clock shadow on his face. He hadn’t showered properly in a few days. Probably since Vic had been admitted into the ER.
There was a tiny smidgen of respect growing for Ted in Brian.
He’d fuck it up eventually, but for right now, he was okay.
“Move over, Theodore. That’s my fucking seat.”
He handed Ted the videotape and laid down on the couch, head in Mikey’s lap. He squeezed the hand that grasped his, placing them both on his chest, then looked up to catch Michael’s reaction. He hid his smile when he heard him laugh.
“Dirty Dancing!”
Ted grinned. “Patrick Swayze can cure all kinds of things.”
Brian lifted his head slightly. “Why, Ted. I never knew.”
Ted glanced at him. “I am a fag, Brian. The Swayze can do no wrong.”
Brian laughed, head falling back on Michael’s lap, and he lowered his knees, placing his legs across Ted’s. After some moments, he felt the warmth of Ted’s hand on his ankles, patting them unconsciously.
Michael’s hands delved into his hair, running circles through his scalp.
Brian watched Johnny fill up the screen.
2004
Brian heard knocking and buried his head deeper into the pillow. Eyes transfixed on nothing, really. He was fucking tired. He glanced over at Justin, watched him walk across the loft to the door. His heart did that stupid fluttering thing he ignored.
There was some noise and then all he saw was a blur of color run past Justin and toward him.
“Fuck.”
It wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear, but Brian swore Emmett gave him a wounded look, so he said…
“Hi, Emmett.” Then, because this was him… “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“We’ve come to spread our sunshine.” Ted drifted over, grinning and holding up a bag of Chinese.
Brian’s stomach turned and he grimaced. His eyes fell to Justin, who stood in the entryway. “Did you do this?”
Justin held up his hands, shaking his head.
The door slid open again and Michael entered. He gave Justin a quick hug, then made his way to the living room. “You look like shit.” Then he grinned so widely that Brian had to let out a puff of laughter.
“Really? And here I thought post-radiation glow would be good for my skin.”
“Nah. It’s chemo that really gets those pores going,” The Professor quipped from behind Michael.
Brian blinked. And because it was Ben, and because the situation was completely absurd, he laughed. Hard. And loud. His chest started to hurt but he couldn’t stop.
He heard Emmett join him, and it took a few minutes until everyone calmed down. Brian breathed deep, meeting Justin’s eyes, seeing the wetness there, and he frowned when Justin turned away from him. He brought his attention back to everyone. “What are you all doing here?”
“This is your ‘I survived my first round of radiation’ party!” Emmett blew the favor he’d pulled out into Brian’s face.
“In other words, you’re here to annoy the shit out of me.”
“YES!”
Michael leaned down, kissing his cheek loudly. “We’re here to make you remember why you’re going to beat this.” Brian met his eyes, softened a little, and Michael grinned. “See. You like it.”
Brian snorted and glanced at Ted. “You let them do this?”
Ted shrugged. “I told them we might be making you wish us dead, but they don’t listen.”
Brian sighed. “What did you all bring?”
Ted pulled out a large container of liquid, setting it on Brian’s table. He was too tired to yell at him for that. “Egg Flower Soup. Good for you.”
Ben stood above him, leaning down and placing a necklace over his head. Brian looked down at the dark purple quartz, filed flat and round. “This is to gather all the positive strength and love in the room. Leave it on.” Ben pressed his fingers against Brian’s chest - where his heart was - and tapped softly a few times.
Michael handed him a stack of comics. “All our old favorites. Captain Astro’s pants can distract anyone from pretty much anything.”
Brian smiled and flipped open the books. He couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading from his chest down to his stomach. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to know, but once Debbie got the news… well, it was hard not to have others find out. He glanced at Justin - back still to the room - and he was glad for Debbie’s big mouth. He knew Justin had felt alone in this.
He looked over at Ted. “And your contribution?”
Ted grinned. “I made Carl take Debbie out on the town.”
Brian laughed. “You get a raise, Theodore Schmidt.”
Emmett waved four DVD boxes. “However, I have the very best gift.” He displayed the names and Brian rolled his eyes, fighting away another laugh.
“You can’t be serious.”
Emmett frowned, glancing down at the boxes. “What? These are his best movies.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I qualify Road House as one of his best.”
Emmett gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “Are you kidding? That’s the best one! I mean, come on. Best line in a movie: It’s my way… or the highway.” Emmett fanned his face and closed his eyes. “That still makes me tingle.”
Brian saw Justin step behind Emmett, patting his shoulders. “Down, Em.” He grabbed for one of the DVD’s, waving it slightly at Emmett. “Thanks for getting it.”
“Since when are you a Swayze fan, Sunshine?”
Justin glanced down at Brian, grinned slowly and shook his head. “Well, after all these years of Mikey talking up the virtues of The Swayze, I got curious.”
He stepped around Ted, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Brian’s head. Brian kept his eyes focused on him as everyone else moved into different positions. Food distributed, drinks passed around, and still Brian watched Justin. When he glanced back to the room, everyone had settled. Ted and Emmett sat on the floor with their backs to the couch. Ben was cushioned next to Michael, arm around his shoulders, speaking softly into his ear. Michael grinned. He’d sat with Brian’s feet on his legs, rubbing circles on the skin.
Justin got up to take the seat nearest to them and Brian pulled at his arm, rising up and looking pointedly at the couch. Justin hesitated, then sat with a soft umph, and Brian waited until he was comfortable before laying his head on Justin’s lap. He sighed into the jean-clad leg under him. Whenever Justin was this close, Brian’s fear couldn’t hide. He thought that was probably one of the reasons he’d pushed him away so hard.
Part of him knew that Justin was his sanctuary. Where he wanted to be and needed to live. Another part couldn’t do that to him. He didn’t want that to be his job. It was too much for one person to take.
He glanced around the room, at Ted and Emmett sharing a carton of fried rice, Ben grinning at whatever Michael was saying, at Justin running his hands through Brian’s hair, eyes staring at the opening credits. They were here for him. Somehow they were sources of light and love. Even when Brian couldn’t accept them.
He buried deeper into Justin’s lap, heard him gasp quietly and bit back the grin.
He suddenly focused on the television and there was The Swayze. In heels. Fabulous couture. He blinked and then said, “Where the fuck have I been that I’ve never seen this movie?”
Justin laughed. “Stuck in the eighties, old man.”
“Fuck you, fetus.”
Justin laughed again and Brian let that sound cover him in warmth. He took in the chattering commentary between Ted and Emmett. Felt the strength of Michael’s fingers. His hand brushed Ben’s stone.
Love and strength.
2009
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Nice to talk to you, too, Sunshine.”
Justin rolled his eyes and swept his brush across the canvas. “Don’t be a prick. You know I love hearing your voice. Always. It’s just -”
“I’m okay, Justin. It’s just a cold. I swear. Clean bill of health.”
Justin let his heart settle down. Anytime Brian had a cold or a check up, Justin would literally stop breathing until he knew he was all right. It wasn’t rational, he knew that. Brian always had check ups. Constantly for the last five years. Like clockwork. If the cancer was back, they’d know it. And it wasn’t like it had given any warning the first time.
But still --
He breathed better.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not tonight.”
“You miss me?” Justin smiled into the phone, teasing. When he was met with silence, his smile died and he gripped the receiver. “It’s only for a few more weeks. Then I’ll be back home.”
“It’s a big house.”
“Yeah. It’s always a big house.”
“Not when you’re here.”
Justin closed his eyes. Sometimes Brian Kinney still managed to surprise the fuck out of him.
“I love you, too.”
Brian made an acknowledging sort of noise and then said, “I don’t want you to always be scared.”
“Well, that’s not really something that can be helped.”
“I know.”
The silence stretched between them. Just Brian’s breathing in his ear and the soft scraping of his brush on canvas.
“It’s not weird if you’re sad about it.”
Brian snorted but without real heat or humor. “I’m not.”
Justin paused. “He was a big deal to you guys. I mean, I know it was mostly symbolic, but…
Brian didn’t say anything.
“Go see Michael tomorrow. Hang out,” Justin said, flipping the phone to his other ear. “Get some sleep.”
“Good night, Sunshine.”
“Good night, Brian.”
*
Michael carried the new box of comics into the store front. He needed to get out of the funk he’d been in the last couple of days. It was ridiculous. He knew that. He was thirty-eight fucking years old. Not fourteen or twenty-six or whatever other age he’d been.
It just felt like he’d lost something indefinable. Which made him feel silly, because it wasn’t like he knew -
The knock on the door made him jump. He wasn’t open for a few hours.
He saw the familiar face at the door and smiled.
When he pulled the door open, Brian held up two bags. “I think the store should close today.”
Michael blinked.
“We need to give him a proper send off, Mikey.”
*
“I don’t even know how you talked me into this.”
Brian grinned, taking another deep inhale. “It’s never hard.”
“I am weak. This is true.”
Their eyes stared at the large flat-screen. “He really was fucking beautiful.”
Brian nodded. “Extremely fuckable. I agree.”
Michael snorted. “And totally straight.”
“Motherfucking shame.”
They watched The Swayze learn to poltergeist Whoopi Goldberg and Brian leaned his head back. “He was fucking good.”
Michael nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder. The door opened and closed, soft sound of footsteps moving around them.
Two open beers were placed in front of them, empties removed, and Michael glanced up to see his Ben. “Hi, honey.”
Ben leaned over, kissed him deep and long. “Hey, baby.” He patted Brian’s head as he walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
They watched the final scene, the bright lights of heaven in the background, the last shot of Swayze disappearing into it.
Michael sniffed, brushing away at the moisture that gathered in his eyes. “It’s like he’s saying goodbye to all of us.”
Brian was silent.
Reaching for Michael’s hand, he gripped it in his own.
“It’s never really goodbye, Mikey. Isn‘t that what you tell me?”
Michael squeezed his hand.
“Yeah.”
The screen faded to black and the only sound in the room was their soft breathing.
Michael reached for another DVD.
“Let’s watch Johnny rescue Baby from a lifetime in the corner.”
“Yeah, then get her knocked up and make her miserable a few years later.”
Michael grinned and opened the box.
End.
Author:
freakykat Pairing: Brian-Michael, Brian/Justin
Theme: Mixed Theme, Country #24: "Sanctuary" - Jamie O'Neal
Rating: PG-15
Content: some swearing, drugs, drinking, slight angst
Word Count: 3080
Summary: You are my sanctuary.
Disclaimer: Don’t own Queer as Folk. They belong to CowLip, Ron and Dan and Showtime, who should have treated them better. I only like to play with them. When I’m done I’ll wipe them off and put them back.
A/N: Dedicated to
kari77 for her birthday. Sorry it's belated, love. Also a request made from ryosato. She wanted Brian and Michael mourning The Swayze. I went with that theme. Written for 30_ballads challenge Country #24: "Sanctuary" - Jamie O'Neal. Much thanks and love to my beta wouldbedorothy. Feedback appreaciated. 30 Ballad Challenges Table.
Lay Down The Load That You Carry
1987
They were sitting in the balcony - Brian’s legs stretched out across the empty aisle, soda in one hand - and Michael concentrated on the condensation dripping from the metal Pepsi can instead of the warmth of Brian’s head on his lap. He shifted in his seat, praying that Brian couldn’t feel anything Michael didn’t want him to.
His eyes stayed glued to the screen, and he smiled widely when Johnny walked into the ballroom, leather jacket glittering in the lights. This was his favorite part. Johnny rescuing Baby from a life in the corner. Brian rolled his eyes at that scene every time.
“She’ll be knocked up and miserable in two years,” he would say.
Michael’s eyes flicked to Brian’s face, watched it soften just a little before he remembered who he was and his face went blank again. He caught Michael’s gaze, raised an eyebrow, then turned back to the screen, handing him the joint.
He took a long drag, coughed only once, and slowly let the smoke trail out into the dark theater. Michael watched it cloud over their heads, thinning out the farther into the air it went, until it was nothing. His mind was getting fuzzy, stomach flipping when Brian moved his head to get a better view of the final dance.
Michael gritted his teeth, shifted again to make sure nothing was too obvious.
“Ouch, motherfucker!” he hissed out when Brian smacked his thigh.
“Then stop moving, asshole.”
Michael sighed. “Fuck you.”
They watched in silence as the lodge burst into dancing and color and life. Michael leaned his head back, watching Johnny’s slow movements and he wished very hard for his own version of Johnny. Someone who came into his life and blew him away. Someone who he could tell all his truths to. His eyes fell to Brian again and his heart did that strange pattern of beats it had started to do when he looked at him.
He could tell Brian anything.
“Brian, I’m gay.”
Brian choked on the inhale he had taken, rising up and sitting properly in his seat. His face was turning red and Michael hit him hard on his back. He didn’t want to kill his best friend.
“Mikey, what the fuck?” Brian was looking at him like he had suddenly sported a second head or cock or something. Well, probably not cock, since Brian couldn’t see that, but yeah.
“I just thought --”
Brian stared at him. “That’s it. No more smoking for you.”
“I just wanted to tell you.”
Brian rubbed his face. “Michael, we’ve spent hours extolling the virtues of the football team, my soccer coach, and Patrick fucking Swayze.” Brian waved a hand at the screen where Patrick and Jennifer’s faces were fading. “Not to mention that your cock has been boring a hole into my head for the past two hours - and it‘s not the first time - so what the fuck made you think I wasn’t aware you’re queer?”
Michael shrugged, face pinking, and turned away. “I just - I hadn’t actually ever said it out loud to you. I wanted to.”
There was a long stretch of silence, and then Michael felt Brian’s hand on his face, guided it to face him. He didn’t say anything, and Brian kissed him, soft, then pulled away. “Mikey, you are so pathetic.”
Michael grinned, dropping a quick kiss on Brian’s nose. “Yeah, I know.”
1998
Brian stood in the doorway, watching Michael wipe his face for the hundredth time in the last two weeks. His chest burned with his own unshed grief, but the truth was - Vic wasn’t dead. Not fucking yet. He was still fighting. Them crying over him wasn’t going to help him any.
Debbie was at the hospital. Her night for the vigil. Vic was strongest on the days after Debbie stayed. She browbeat him into getting better. She’d nag him all the way to death if she had to. She wouldn’t give up. He smiled a little. So fucking Debbie. He’d never admit how much he appreciated that nagging. Well, he didn’t like it aimed at him, but when it was other people, that was entertaining.
Michael leaned his head on Ted’s shoulder, sighing heavily, and Brian watched with some interest, something catching at his gut, but he pushed it away.
“For fuck’s sake. He’s not dead.”
Michael’s head jerked up, turning to Brian with angry eyes, and he spit out a curse or two. “So what? I can’t feel bad?”
“No.”
Ted scowled at him, standing up. “Brian, what the hell?”
Michael was standing up now, glaring at him. “Get out.”
Brian shook his head, taking his coat off and coming around, patting Ted’s shoulder as he walked by. “The fuck I will.” He pulled out the contents of the bag. Two bottles of tequila, a bag of his favorite pharmaceuticals, three tokes, and a movie. Ted moved closer, curiosity winning over annoyance. Brian handed him the first bottle of tequila, “Make yourself useful, Theodore. Get some glasses for this shit and start pouring.”
He turned back to Michael, listening to Ted move around in the kitchen.
“Stop it, Mikey.”
Michael narrowed his eyes at Brian. “Fuck you, Brian. Just because you don’t give a shit, doesn’t mean I don’t. I love him. He’s my uncle.”
Brian nodded. “Yeah. So maybe you can forget about your fucking feelings for a little while and try to remember that he’s the one going through the worst of this shit storm.” Michael shut his mouth, eyes boring into Brian’s. “Stop being a selfish little bitch and start helping him fight.”
Ted stood behind Brian, waiting to see what the next move would be. And whether he should take the liquor and lock himself in the closet to weather out the tantrum that was coming.
“I’m scared.”
Brian nodded. “I know.”
“He can’t die, Brian.”
“Mikey. He will. Maybe not now. But, he will. You just have to learn --”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t want to learn. I just -- can you let me be a selfish little bitch for just tonight?”
Brian sent Ted a look, motioning for him to sit down, then turned back to Michael. “We can do that. But tomorrow -”
“No more. I promise.”
Brian heard Ted sigh and he glanced at him. He looked like shit. Bags under his eyes, five o’clock shadow on his face. He hadn’t showered properly in a few days. Probably since Vic had been admitted into the ER.
There was a tiny smidgen of respect growing for Ted in Brian.
He’d fuck it up eventually, but for right now, he was okay.
“Move over, Theodore. That’s my fucking seat.”
He handed Ted the videotape and laid down on the couch, head in Mikey’s lap. He squeezed the hand that grasped his, placing them both on his chest, then looked up to catch Michael’s reaction. He hid his smile when he heard him laugh.
“Dirty Dancing!”
Ted grinned. “Patrick Swayze can cure all kinds of things.”
Brian lifted his head slightly. “Why, Ted. I never knew.”
Ted glanced at him. “I am a fag, Brian. The Swayze can do no wrong.”
Brian laughed, head falling back on Michael’s lap, and he lowered his knees, placing his legs across Ted’s. After some moments, he felt the warmth of Ted’s hand on his ankles, patting them unconsciously.
Michael’s hands delved into his hair, running circles through his scalp.
Brian watched Johnny fill up the screen.
2004
Brian heard knocking and buried his head deeper into the pillow. Eyes transfixed on nothing, really. He was fucking tired. He glanced over at Justin, watched him walk across the loft to the door. His heart did that stupid fluttering thing he ignored.
There was some noise and then all he saw was a blur of color run past Justin and toward him.
“Fuck.”
It wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear, but Brian swore Emmett gave him a wounded look, so he said…
“Hi, Emmett.” Then, because this was him… “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“We’ve come to spread our sunshine.” Ted drifted over, grinning and holding up a bag of Chinese.
Brian’s stomach turned and he grimaced. His eyes fell to Justin, who stood in the entryway. “Did you do this?”
Justin held up his hands, shaking his head.
The door slid open again and Michael entered. He gave Justin a quick hug, then made his way to the living room. “You look like shit.” Then he grinned so widely that Brian had to let out a puff of laughter.
“Really? And here I thought post-radiation glow would be good for my skin.”
“Nah. It’s chemo that really gets those pores going,” The Professor quipped from behind Michael.
Brian blinked. And because it was Ben, and because the situation was completely absurd, he laughed. Hard. And loud. His chest started to hurt but he couldn’t stop.
He heard Emmett join him, and it took a few minutes until everyone calmed down. Brian breathed deep, meeting Justin’s eyes, seeing the wetness there, and he frowned when Justin turned away from him. He brought his attention back to everyone. “What are you all doing here?”
“This is your ‘I survived my first round of radiation’ party!” Emmett blew the favor he’d pulled out into Brian’s face.
“In other words, you’re here to annoy the shit out of me.”
“YES!”
Michael leaned down, kissing his cheek loudly. “We’re here to make you remember why you’re going to beat this.” Brian met his eyes, softened a little, and Michael grinned. “See. You like it.”
Brian snorted and glanced at Ted. “You let them do this?”
Ted shrugged. “I told them we might be making you wish us dead, but they don’t listen.”
Brian sighed. “What did you all bring?”
Ted pulled out a large container of liquid, setting it on Brian’s table. He was too tired to yell at him for that. “Egg Flower Soup. Good for you.”
Ben stood above him, leaning down and placing a necklace over his head. Brian looked down at the dark purple quartz, filed flat and round. “This is to gather all the positive strength and love in the room. Leave it on.” Ben pressed his fingers against Brian’s chest - where his heart was - and tapped softly a few times.
Michael handed him a stack of comics. “All our old favorites. Captain Astro’s pants can distract anyone from pretty much anything.”
Brian smiled and flipped open the books. He couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading from his chest down to his stomach. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to know, but once Debbie got the news… well, it was hard not to have others find out. He glanced at Justin - back still to the room - and he was glad for Debbie’s big mouth. He knew Justin had felt alone in this.
He looked over at Ted. “And your contribution?”
Ted grinned. “I made Carl take Debbie out on the town.”
Brian laughed. “You get a raise, Theodore Schmidt.”
Emmett waved four DVD boxes. “However, I have the very best gift.” He displayed the names and Brian rolled his eyes, fighting away another laugh.
“You can’t be serious.”
Emmett frowned, glancing down at the boxes. “What? These are his best movies.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I qualify Road House as one of his best.”
Emmett gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “Are you kidding? That’s the best one! I mean, come on. Best line in a movie: It’s my way… or the highway.” Emmett fanned his face and closed his eyes. “That still makes me tingle.”
Brian saw Justin step behind Emmett, patting his shoulders. “Down, Em.” He grabbed for one of the DVD’s, waving it slightly at Emmett. “Thanks for getting it.”
“Since when are you a Swayze fan, Sunshine?”
Justin glanced down at Brian, grinned slowly and shook his head. “Well, after all these years of Mikey talking up the virtues of The Swayze, I got curious.”
He stepped around Ted, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Brian’s head. Brian kept his eyes focused on him as everyone else moved into different positions. Food distributed, drinks passed around, and still Brian watched Justin. When he glanced back to the room, everyone had settled. Ted and Emmett sat on the floor with their backs to the couch. Ben was cushioned next to Michael, arm around his shoulders, speaking softly into his ear. Michael grinned. He’d sat with Brian’s feet on his legs, rubbing circles on the skin.
Justin got up to take the seat nearest to them and Brian pulled at his arm, rising up and looking pointedly at the couch. Justin hesitated, then sat with a soft umph, and Brian waited until he was comfortable before laying his head on Justin’s lap. He sighed into the jean-clad leg under him. Whenever Justin was this close, Brian’s fear couldn’t hide. He thought that was probably one of the reasons he’d pushed him away so hard.
Part of him knew that Justin was his sanctuary. Where he wanted to be and needed to live. Another part couldn’t do that to him. He didn’t want that to be his job. It was too much for one person to take.
He glanced around the room, at Ted and Emmett sharing a carton of fried rice, Ben grinning at whatever Michael was saying, at Justin running his hands through Brian’s hair, eyes staring at the opening credits. They were here for him. Somehow they were sources of light and love. Even when Brian couldn’t accept them.
He buried deeper into Justin’s lap, heard him gasp quietly and bit back the grin.
He suddenly focused on the television and there was The Swayze. In heels. Fabulous couture. He blinked and then said, “Where the fuck have I been that I’ve never seen this movie?”
Justin laughed. “Stuck in the eighties, old man.”
“Fuck you, fetus.”
Justin laughed again and Brian let that sound cover him in warmth. He took in the chattering commentary between Ted and Emmett. Felt the strength of Michael’s fingers. His hand brushed Ben’s stone.
Love and strength.
2009
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Nice to talk to you, too, Sunshine.”
Justin rolled his eyes and swept his brush across the canvas. “Don’t be a prick. You know I love hearing your voice. Always. It’s just -”
“I’m okay, Justin. It’s just a cold. I swear. Clean bill of health.”
Justin let his heart settle down. Anytime Brian had a cold or a check up, Justin would literally stop breathing until he knew he was all right. It wasn’t rational, he knew that. Brian always had check ups. Constantly for the last five years. Like clockwork. If the cancer was back, they’d know it. And it wasn’t like it had given any warning the first time.
But still --
He breathed better.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not tonight.”
“You miss me?” Justin smiled into the phone, teasing. When he was met with silence, his smile died and he gripped the receiver. “It’s only for a few more weeks. Then I’ll be back home.”
“It’s a big house.”
“Yeah. It’s always a big house.”
“Not when you’re here.”
Justin closed his eyes. Sometimes Brian Kinney still managed to surprise the fuck out of him.
“I love you, too.”
Brian made an acknowledging sort of noise and then said, “I don’t want you to always be scared.”
“Well, that’s not really something that can be helped.”
“I know.”
The silence stretched between them. Just Brian’s breathing in his ear and the soft scraping of his brush on canvas.
“It’s not weird if you’re sad about it.”
Brian snorted but without real heat or humor. “I’m not.”
Justin paused. “He was a big deal to you guys. I mean, I know it was mostly symbolic, but…
Brian didn’t say anything.
“Go see Michael tomorrow. Hang out,” Justin said, flipping the phone to his other ear. “Get some sleep.”
“Good night, Sunshine.”
“Good night, Brian.”
*
Michael carried the new box of comics into the store front. He needed to get out of the funk he’d been in the last couple of days. It was ridiculous. He knew that. He was thirty-eight fucking years old. Not fourteen or twenty-six or whatever other age he’d been.
It just felt like he’d lost something indefinable. Which made him feel silly, because it wasn’t like he knew -
The knock on the door made him jump. He wasn’t open for a few hours.
He saw the familiar face at the door and smiled.
When he pulled the door open, Brian held up two bags. “I think the store should close today.”
Michael blinked.
“We need to give him a proper send off, Mikey.”
*
“I don’t even know how you talked me into this.”
Brian grinned, taking another deep inhale. “It’s never hard.”
“I am weak. This is true.”
Their eyes stared at the large flat-screen. “He really was fucking beautiful.”
Brian nodded. “Extremely fuckable. I agree.”
Michael snorted. “And totally straight.”
“Motherfucking shame.”
They watched The Swayze learn to poltergeist Whoopi Goldberg and Brian leaned his head back. “He was fucking good.”
Michael nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder. The door opened and closed, soft sound of footsteps moving around them.
Two open beers were placed in front of them, empties removed, and Michael glanced up to see his Ben. “Hi, honey.”
Ben leaned over, kissed him deep and long. “Hey, baby.” He patted Brian’s head as he walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
They watched the final scene, the bright lights of heaven in the background, the last shot of Swayze disappearing into it.
Michael sniffed, brushing away at the moisture that gathered in his eyes. “It’s like he’s saying goodbye to all of us.”
Brian was silent.
Reaching for Michael’s hand, he gripped it in his own.
“It’s never really goodbye, Mikey. Isn‘t that what you tell me?”
Michael squeezed his hand.
“Yeah.”
The screen faded to black and the only sound in the room was their soft breathing.
Michael reached for another DVD.
“Let’s watch Johnny rescue Baby from a lifetime in the corner.”
“Yeah, then get her knocked up and make her miserable a few years later.”
Michael grinned and opened the box.
End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 1 of 2