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Brother's Keeper
by Vamphile
Seventeen
Justin was chewing on the end of his paintbrush and staring intently at the canvas. Something was missing. He cocked his head to the right, and then the left. And finally realized what it was. He was mixing paint, trying to find the right shade when the phone rang. He hit the button on the headset. He’d been expecting the call.
Brian ignored the chit-chat part of the hello and cut to the chase. “Well?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes really. I can get away on Thursday afternoon. Should be in by nine Thursday night.”
“You book the flight already?”
“Emailed Cyn, she’s sending me the confirmation information. You’ll get it too.”
“Cyn knows?”
“No one else has to…but you know everyone’s gonna find out, they always do.”
“Not this time.”
“This is why I said you should come here.”
“Can’t. The stuff at Babylon needs overseeing or Paul’s gonna go cheap and easy.”
“If you’re gonna be busy I can stay here.”
“Fuck that. It’s been almost a month.”
“I know. But we’ve gone longer.”
“Not planning on letting that be a habit.”
“Brian what the fuck is your problem?”
Brian didn’t say anything. His problem was that Justin was unable to have a civil conversation with him lately and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. “Don’t have one. What the fuck are you so upset about?”
Brian could hear his deep breath in the background, as if he were gathering his strength and patience to deal with the simple question. “I’m not upset. I miss you.”
“Well I’ll see you in three days.”
“I can’t wait.”
“So the freelance work’s all been Okayed and put to bed?”
“Yeah, I have one minor change to make to the HikeNow account, but they’ve already pretty much approved it.”
“Good.”
“Why do you send me the loser accounts?”
“Last week you were pissed at me for sending you any accounts.”
“Not pissed, surprised.”
“You’re surprise sound’s a lot like exasperation.”
“I guess the subtle nuances get lost on the phone.”
“Must be it.”
“So I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Call me tomorrow.”
“Once I’m done with the gallery assholes. They’re bitching that the music is too loud on the video piece.”
“Turn it down.”
Justin laughed. “If I turn it down it will lose its effect.”
“And they own the gallery. Who’s gonna win?”
“Grrr, I’ll figure something out…maybe we can move the piece further back.”
“So you’d rather fewer people see it?”
“Can I have this argument with them and not you?”
“This is an argument?”
“No. Yes. I don’t fucking know.”
“When you figure it out let me know… if it was an argument you owe me makeup sex.”
“If it was an argument, who says we’re done?”
“Aren’t we?”
Justin sighed heavily. “Yes. We’re done. And you don’t have to use make up sex as a ploy to fuck me. As a matter of fact, if you weren’t already planning on fucking me, we have way more wrong than you think.”
“Trust me, I plan on fucking you. And who says I think there’s something wrong?”
“You don’t?”
“No. I do. I just never said that.”
“Brian. Your silences are deafeningly communicative sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
“What can I say, we speak each others unspoken language, fluently.”
“Oh Christ I never should have let you see that movie.”
“You wanted to convince me John Cusack was hot once.”
“He still is.”
“If you’re old.”
“Easy now.”
“Sorry, forgot, age thing, touchy.”
“You’re a twat. You know that?”
“If I forgot you’d remind me.”
“It’s my job.”
“Speaking of twat’s…”
“Ewww, we were?”
“Aaron.”
“Aaron?”
“What’s up with him?”
“Nothing.” Justin could hear Brian exhale cigarette smoke.
“Is he there?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Was he there?”
“For a couple hours. He’s addicted to some new game.”
“Brian.”
“Don’t start. I gave him a job.”
“You what?”
“He’s the gofer for the construction guys at Babylon.”
“Why?”
“He was always there. He was always underfoot. This way they can get a cup of coffee and get him away from the power tools.”
“You’re letting him play you.”
“He’s working. Then I buy him a pizza or whatever. He’s home at a reasonable hour.”
“What does Alicia think of all this?”
“She seems okay with it.”
“She knows it’s just the two of you?”
“No, I pretend you’re still at the loft waiting.”
“And she’s okay that it’s just Aaron and the sugardaddyclubfreakchildmolester.”
“I think she’d figured out which parts of that moniker are true.”
“Have you?”
“Well, I’d say only the club freak, and it’s probably aging club freak these days, or more accurately ex club freak. But I’ll also bet my new Dolce jeans that you think the sugar daddy part is accurate.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Circular argument alert.”
“You’re right.”
“So I’ll pick you up Thursday?”
“I can’t wait.”
“Do me a favor, try and find a little more enthusiasm between now and Thursday.”
“I’m sorry, I really can’t wait. I need to get the fuck away. I’m thinking we go to the loft. We lock the doors. We turn off the phones and on Sunday… we slip me back on the plane like I was never there.”
Brian laughed, “I think the stealth mission is a go. But I can’t promise complete privacy, you know this never works.”
“Let’s pretend. Just for today, this time it’s going to.”
“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“I’ll call after the gallery meeting.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Brian hung up and poured himself a glass of beam. He downed it and decided, fuck the glass. He sprawled on the sofa and considered his last few conversations with Justin. Something was up. He had a feeling it was nothing major. But he also had a feeling Justin thought it was.
Yeah, they’d be locking the doors and turning off the phones… but if he thought they were gonna avoid this any longer…well; Justin forgot how much of a evil overlord Brian could be when he wanted something.
He moved over to the computer, which really did run faster since Aaron had been tweaking things here and there. He searched for a few things. Plans were always handy, even if you weren’t sure what you were dealing with yet.
~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**
Jordan and Zoë were in an on again phase. They were making out on the futon. Justin and Matt and Lee were trying to ignore them until they were all sufficiently stoned. It wasn’t working and Justin wondered if this was why everyone was always trying to pry Brian away from him or vice versa in public. Then he shrugged. He didn’t care. Brian was the one who usually started the public displays of affection anyway. And hell, they usually became private displays of affection later…or not so private if they were anywhere near an alley, or a backroom, or a bathroom, or a dark corner, or…
“Justin!”
“What?”
“Door.”
“Oh right, sorry, was thinking.”
“He took another quick hit from the bong and handed it off to Lee. He stepped over Matt’s legs to answer. It was three in the afternoon. He hadn’t slept yet, but he had every intention of working for a little while after everyone left and getting some work done before he crashed. He had to pack. He was leaving tomorrow.
He checked the peephole. It was a FedEx guy. He wasn’t expecting any deliveries. His neighbor was probably out and the guy just wanted a signature. He opened the door.
“Taylor residence?”
“Um, yeah.”
“I need you to sign here.”
“What is it?”
“A package.”
Justin rolled his eyes. He was a little more baked then he thought. How the hell would this guy know what was in the fucking box. He signed and took the small box. He was about to close the door when the delivery guy pulled a hand truck forward and then emptied the rest of the boxes into the corner. “Have a nice day.”
Justin was too confused and way too stoned to reply. He closed the door behind him. All of his friends were staring at him.
“Waddja get?”
Justin shrugged. “No clue. I didn’t order anything.”
He looked at the return address; it was from some place in California, that was no help. He grabbed a knife and started to open one of the boxes. Soon there were packing peanuts all over the floor, a large amount of digital equipment in a pile in the corner and one pissed off twink with steam practically coming out of his ears.
“Goddamned stupid self important motherfucker.”
“Present from your boyfriend?”
Justin glared at Matt who smirked. He had no idea why Justin always seemed so aggravated when the guy he purported to be in love with gave him anything but he was. He’d complained about the phone for two days when he had come home with it. He’d bitched about the confrontation regarding the graphics clients. And the web cam, DVD burner and editing equipment that most artists paid hundreds to rent by the hour seemed to make Justin angry rather than grateful.
Sensing a meltdown he ushered Lee, Zoë and Jordan out of the apartment and locked the door behind them. He sat on the futon and wondered if Justin was going to kick him out too.
Justin didn’t seem aware of his presence.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m going to have to kill him.”
“You said he was taller than you, can you take him?”
“Not gonna fight him. Gonna kill him.”
“For buying you really nice shit. Um, when did that become a federal offense?”
“Can’t explain it.”
“Wanna try?”
“No. let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Out. Can’t be in here with this stuff.”
Matt shrugged and Justin disappeared into his room. he came back a few minutes later dressed to kill… but not in the same way he wanted to kill that Brian guy… or maybe in exactly the way he planned to kill that Brian guy. Matt wasn’t sure.
“Can I borrow a shirt, you’re showing me up here.”
Justin nodded and jerked his head towards the bedroom. Matt threw a vial to him on his way towards Justin’s closet. “this might help you relax…or wind you up…not sure.”
Justin emptied some on the side of his hand and inhaled. he felt better almost immediately. Not less angry, just…better.
They went out, they danced. Matt watched as Justin pulled some guy into the back room. he was on a fucking mission tonight.
In the time he’d known Justin, and it had been almost six months now, he’d gotten bits and pieces of information about the twisted thing he had going on back in Pittsburgh with some older guy. Justin swore it was love. And the guy sure seemed to show his affection, if the perpetual phone calls, lavish gifts, and serious bite marks he showered Justin with were any indication. But lately Justin was pulling away, or something. He didn’t pretend to know everything.
They weren’t monogamous, he knew that. They didn’t sneak around, had some basic ground rules. Were always safe. But Matt really never got a clear image of what the fuck they were to each other, except that Justin never seemed to stop sketching him when he was “just doodling” and never seemed to be able to keep the smile off his face when he called.
Matt had caught an actual look at him once. He was leaving Justin’s as Matt was heading towards the coffee shop. At that point Matt would have recognized him anywhere, he’d seen enough drawings of him, but the fact that Justin was standing barefoot and bare-chested on the street, a pair of sweatpants that were way too big for him barely clinging to his hips and bed head that screamed just got laid made it pretty clear who he was. If that weren’t enough, the fact that as he got into a cab they sort of did this thing with their arms, sliding away from each other as if neither really wanted to break contact until absolutely necessary.
The cab had pulled away and he was going to ask Justin to grab a shirt and meet him for coffee but the look on Justin's face as he stared at the cab made him rethink the offer. He stood for another minute and watched Justin become…well, the Justin he knew again. He seemed to straighten his shoulders, and lose the slightly melty look he’d had. Finally he walked back into his building and Matt walked past it to get himself a cup of coffee.
He’d tried for days to write the scene. To write something that hit on what he’d seen. Nothing he’d ever show to Justin. He never got it right and eventually just gave up.
Whatever these two had, it was palpable from ten feet away. It must feel like standing in the middle of an electrical storm if you’re actually involved. It was volatile, and Matt was not jealous.
He’d had something chemically amazing once in college. And those things rip you to shreds. He was looking for something different now. And contrary to what Zoë thought… it wasn’t Justin. He liked Justin. They had a lot in common. They both hated most people. Knew everyone was stupid, and most of the time knew that all the other people clamoring for attention to their art were hacks. They had a creative connection, not a sexual one.
Justin was dancing with him again, reaching into his pocket. Matt looked at him questioningly, Justin was already pretty drunk and the crank was making his eyes shine.
“E” Justin almost yelled.
Matt laughed and gave him half a tab. Justin swatted at his head while they danced. “Adult dosage please.”
Matt shrugged and gave him the other half. Justin chewed and swallowed and handed Matt a twenty. Water and beer…for the both of us.
Matt nodded while Justin kept moving to the music.
He disappeared with some smooth bodybuilder type and came back smiling broadly…
He was leaning close to Matt yelling over the music “I love butch bottoms.”
Matt laughed again. At around eleven he headed home. He was tired, had work to do. And had a shift at the bookstore tomorrow. Justin didn’t feel like going home yet. “You got cab fare?”
Justin smiled and nodded and kept dancing.
~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**
Justin woke up with his head pounding. He looked around and couldn’t quite figure out where he was. Then he couldn’t at all figure out where he was. He looked over to his left and realized he was in someone else’s bed. In someone else’s fucking apartment. Shit.
He grabbed his jeans and his shirt. Found his shoes. Checked his pocket for his wallet keys and phone. All there.
The clock beside the bed said it was almost noon.
Dammit, he hadn’t packed yet and he didn’t even know which side of the city he was on.
He slid out the door quietly and was outside before he could breathe easily. Thank fucking god…no morning after Smalltalk. He checked his wallet for cash. They were either close to the club or the trick had paid for the cab. But if he was the one sneaking out in the morning…maybe he was the trick, or were they both tricks. He wasn’t sure, but this couldn’t go on.
He found a Starbucks and bought a straight shot of caffeine. Found the nearest subway station and got his bearings.
Once he was finally home, he sat down on the futon and called Brian.
“Hey Sunshine.”
“We need to talk.”
“I tried to talk to you last night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, you were a little too giggly, and a little too occupied, to be coherent.”
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Was he any good.”
“Would I have been with him if he wasn’t?” Justin decided now was not the time to tell Brian he couldn’t remember. To tell Brian he’d broken a major rule of his own by going back to his place instead of his own. He’d tell him all that when he got there.
“You still want me to come there?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“No reason just making sure nothing came up with Babylon.”
“It’s all good… get your perfect ass on the plane, I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Okay.”
“Justin.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got a couple people waiting to see me. I know something’s up. I’m not ignoring you.”
“I know.”
“Tonight.”
“Tonight.”
~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**
Brian spent the rest of the day distracted. Even Aaron’s usually annoying presence didn’t faze him. Justin wanted to talk. Justin was too tweaked last night to be coherent. Justin didn’t usually answer the fucking phone when he was in the middle of getting a blowjob… but he did last night. Could be a lot of reasons for that.
He could have thought it was hot. And it would have been if Brian had been sure that Justin knew what he was doing…but he wasn’t so sure last night.
Could have been a “fuck you” but for what? they’d gotten over the tricking thing so long ago it was a non-issue.
Could have just been to tweaked to notice who it was, or what was going on…which brought him back to the original reason he’d been so fucking adamant about this visit. Something was up and this had to be fucking dealt with.
He killed some time with Aaron at the diner, letting Deb overfeed the kid and pinch his cheeks and he said nothing to anyone about Justin’s imminent arrival.
He got Aaron home, made a little small talk with Alicia and then headed to the airport.
~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**
once Justin had showered he went down to the coffee shop with his sketchbook. Matt was there.
“Hey, where’d you go last night?”
“Home, I said goodbye.”
“I was flying pretty high by then.”
“You okay?”
“What? yeah. Good times. Guy was hot.”
“Which one?”
“The one I went home with…I don’t remember the guy who blew me.”
“Which one?”
“Fuck I was wasted…that was good shit.”
“Only the best.”
“I owe you money for that.”
“You bought the drinks.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that.”
“So you leaving soon?”
“Plane leaves at seven. You get lucky last night?”
“No time, inventory at the book store from five am to noon.”
“Ick.”
“I know but hey, it pays the rent, we can’t all have…”
“Say it and I’ll kill you.”
“You two okay?”
“Yeah. It’s not us. Not every fucking thing in my life revolves around Brian fucking Kinney.”
“Um, I know?”
“Sorry, you have no idea. He’s like…the center of this entire world there. And sometimes it’s just exhausting.”
“So bring him here…to your world.”
“New York is not exactly MY world.”
“It’s more yours than his.”
“he’d manage to make it his in, you’ll pardon the expression, a New York minute.”
“Christ what is he a superhero?”
“Actually yes. He’s a gay superhero.”
“Like Rage?”
“Fuck you… you know… oh wait, you don’t… he IS Rage.”
“Wat?”
“Um, hi, you know how I’m the guy who draws Rage.”
“That I knew…on account of your name being on the damn things, Lee being addicted to them, and you look an awful lot like JT.”
“Yeah well… guess who looks an awful lot like Rage.”
“But the guy you draw…” Matt picked up Justin’s sketch book and flipped through a few pages confidently, there had to be at least one…he found it and held it up. “that’s not Rage.”
“No, that’s Brian, he wanted his chin built up.”
“What’s wrong with his chin?”
Justin shrugged. “Nothing, he’s an asshole like that but yeah, he’s Rage.”
“I can’t believe I never put that together.”
“Well, it seems obvious to most people, but then most people I know have much worse names for Brian than Rage.”
“Like sugardaddyclubfreakchildmolester”
“That’s actually kind compared to the other things he gets called.”
“By whom?”
Justin smiled “Everyone who’s ever met him.”
“Except you.”
“Especially me.”
“but…”
“He’s an asshole. But he’s my asshole.”
“Your relationship is twisted.”
“You’re not the first to make that observation.”
“And you’re okay with this?”
“Except for the thing where he keeps throwing money at me, yeah, I’m fine.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Doesn’t have to. I don’t want him to do it. He’s going to stop.”
“That’s what last night was about? He bought you stuff.”
“Last night was about a lot of things.”
“Taylor, I have to go, but word of advice. Sleep. Go back to Pittsburgh, fuck him, let him fuck you whatever. Be twisted and happy, but while you’re there, eat something and get some fucking sleep. You know you’re beautiful but you look like hammered dogshit.”
Justin smiled. “Sleep sounds good. I’ll start on the plane.”
“Good.”
“See you Monday?”
“If you make it back by then.”
Justin looked at him confused and then just smiled “I don’t think he’s gonna hold me captive.”
“Okay. Freak.”
Justin finished his coffee and sketched the young guy playing a guitar in front of an old record store. Eventually he went back up to his apartment, grabbed a bag and took the two trains, one bus and the shuttle to the airport.
He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. He fidgeted the whole flight and when he finally got off the plane he felt like his carryon weighed a ton. He was moving slowly and waited 'til others got off so he wouldn’t hold them up.
He stepped out into the relative brightness of the fluorescent-lit terminal and smiled when he saw Brian.
Brian wasn’t smiling. Justin looked like hell. He walked towards him and took his bag off his shoulder. Then he held out his arms and Justin seemed to melt into him. “Christ I missed you.”
“Me too.”
“The loft okay. Can we just go straight to the loft?”
“You thought I had other plans?”
Justin didn’t answer and Brian felt him leaning against him as if for support as he walked them to the car.
Justin slid in and lit a cigarette before Brian even started the car.
“You look like hell Sunshine.”
“The loft Brian. I just want to go to the loft.”
“We’re on our way.”
Justin leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. Brian saw dark circles there. Yeah… they had to talk…but first…The kid needed to fucking sleep.
He slung Justin’s bag over his shoulder and woke him gently once he was parked. Justin was still groggy and leaning on Brian in the elevator. He headed straight to the bed leaving a trail of clothes behind him and was under the duvet before Brian had a chance to do more than kick his own shoes off.
An hour later Justin woke with a start sitting bolt upright. Brian handed him a bottle of water and he drank deeply. He could feel Brian's eyes boring into him as he sat with a pillow propping him up his eyes closed.
“You getting sick?”
Justin shook his head. “haven’t slept in three days, or eaten in two. I think I’m just worn out.”
“Well, crystal will do that to you.”
“Justin didn’t even open his eyes. “Not becoming a crystal queen I swear. I’m also so angry at you that I have definitive plans to kill you. I just thought I’d give you fair warning.”
“Definitive plans? Do I get to know what they are?”
“How would that help my plan.”
Brian smiled. “Well, maybe I won’t be able to thwart your evil master plan. All good villains tell the victim how they’re going to die. You know that.”
“Brian. I really am going to kill you I promise. Can I do it after my head stops pounding.”
“Aspirin?”
“And a beer.”
“No alcohol.”
“I’m not twelve.”
“You haven’t eaten in two days. No alcohol 'til you eat something. I’d hate for you to get sloppy drunk and fuck up your plan to kill me.”
“That would suck.”
“Do I get to know what I did?”
“Mmm hmmm.” Justin had swallowed the aspirin and closed his eyes. “I promise to tell you, but for now… can we cut the chit chat and can I just get some fucking sleep.”
“not the homecoming I’d planned Sunshine.”
“I’m not home I’m in Pittsburgh” Justin muttered before he fell fully asleep.
Brian sat in the dark and drank more beam and didn’t even try to puzzle his way though what was going on.
He did find Justin’s phone and turn it off. He did lock the door and set the alarm. He did turn off the loft phone. And he did think Justin had every intention of killing him. he just had no fucking idea why.
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