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The End Done Right
by Vamphile
Chapter Thirty
The funeral service was long; the reverend had known Joan, probably better than anyone else. The pews were sparsely populated. Mel, Lindz, Michael Ben, Ted, Emmett, Deb, Carl, and Justin all sat close to Brian. There were a few people sitting near Claire, mostly older women from the church who were trying to comfort her, and then there was the gaggle of churchgoers who felt it their duty to attend.
All of his friends and family kept shooting looks at Brian, waiting for him to do something inappropriate. He stayed perfectly still. He knew what they were expecting, and there was a strong part of him that wanted to do just that, to get up, say a few well-chosen nasty words and then leave, but he didn’t feel like he had the energy. He concentrated on the feel of Justin's fingers, running through the hair at the back of his neck, and steeled himself, he was not going to fucking cry for this bitch.
Justin watched Brian's face carefully but surreptitiously, he knew that too much scrutiny might set Brian off, at this point, just about anything might set Brian off. He continued to run his fingers through the fine soft hairs at the nape of Brian's neck, just letting him know he was there, there wasn’t much else he could do.
The minister finally finished and they all filed out to head to the cemetery. Brian Justin, Claire and her two kids in the limo, everyone else following. “I can’t believe you brought him.” Claire said. The way she spit out the word made it clear what she thought of Justin, and his relationship with Brian.
Justin said nothing, and Brian opened his mouth to say something and then stopped. “I want him here.”
Claire was crying again, using tissue after tissue, as her kids pushed and poked at each other, insulting one another and studiously keeping their attention away from Justin, who was glaring at them grimly. His animosity towards anyone who tried to hurt Brian was automatic, but he knew how much this kid had hurt Brian, how much it had hurt when his entire family had believed his insane accusations about him, and Justin wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive him for that. But it wasn’t the issue today. Today was merely about getting through.
The graveside ceremony was blessedly short, and Brian wandered off before he had to watch Claire fall to pieces as the kids put a flower on their grandmother’s grave and it was lowered into the ground.
He found the vial and took a couple of hits. Justin watched his back and thought he might be crying; when he walked over he realized that wasn’t what was making Brian's body shake like that. He wrapped an arm around his waist, lending his support wordlessly. Brian held the vial out to him, and Justin shook his head, one of them needed to stay clear headed.
The food was again laid out at his mother’s house. Brian had already called Jennifer and told her that it was going to need to be listed. He’d deal with Claire later, there was nothing in the house that he wanted, she could have it all, but he wanted the house gone, out of the family, out of his life.
“Christ, doesn’t she ever shut up.” Brian asked, hearing Claire start another crying jag.
Justin didn’t say anything, leaning against him and hoping they could leave soon.
He got his wish; five minutes later Brian approached Michael, “I need my keys.” Michael had followed in Brian's car, Ben in his own so that Brian would be able to leave when he needed to. Justin stood up. “Why don’t you let me drive.”?
Brian nodded and Michael handed the keys to Justin, while Brian leaned down and kissed him. “Thanks.”
They left.
“Home?”
Brian nodded. And as soon as they were back at the house he went upstairs and changed. He was pacing the floor like a caged tiger and Justin was more than concerned. Eventually Brian kissed Justin lightly. “I’ve got to go out.” Justin nodded. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
There was a time when he might have tried to stop him, tried to go with him, tried to change the inevitable but he was past that now.
Brian walked into the baths, it had been a while, but the smell never changed, sweat, and sex, and something less pleasant, something fetid and rank, and all of it made his dick hard tonight. He cruised the rooms looking for something, and found it. A larger room, a press of bodies, none of them too disgusting, some of them even hot, and he moved in, pulling a tall brunette to his body, and pushing him down, where he eagerly complied. Hands found him, stroking his chest, his back, his ass, and for a while he was awash in pleasure, no emotion had a chance to surface, and when he came, he simply turned towards another man, smaller, more olive in complexion. He slid on a condom and fucked the guy without even seeing his face, feeling the heat from the mass of bodies writhing around him, hearing the moans and grunts of anonymous pleasure, and when he was spent, he showered and grabbed his clothes from the locker and stopped at Woody’s for a couple more drinks before he went back to the house.
It was almost three am when Justin heard the garage door, and he stopped pacing. He sat down and pretended to be casually reading something, in fact he’d bitten all his nails to the quick and hadn’t truly been able to breathe or relax until Brian returned. Brian was still blank, still dazed, but he looked tired, and less angry, and Justin walked him to bed, and they slept, neither speaking.
When he awoke in the morning it was to the familiar feel of Justin's arm slung across his chest, his head leaning on his shoulder drooling a little, and Brian smiled to himself, and then stopped. This was a bad idea. He didn’t want Justin to end up like Joan, making him content with less than he wanted or deserved. He slid out from under the kid and showered. He felt the cold air as Justin joined him. “How was last night?”
”It was alright,” Brian said, tongue in cheek.
“Where’d you go, Adonis, the Gravel Pit, that new place?”
Brian smirked, what makes you so sure I went to the baths?
Justin kissed him, and then whispered hotly into his ear. “I know you.”
Brian pushed him away, “You don’t know everything.”
Justin shrugged, “So if you didn’t go to the baths, where’d you go?”
Brian ignored him while he finished showering and silently got dressed for work. “I’ll be home late, client meeting.”
Justin nodded and pulled on studio suitable attire.
He was immersed in a highly detailed piece when his hand gave out on him. “Fuck.”
He shook his hand and tried to straighten his fingers, it hurt. Glancing up at the clock he realized it was well past seven and he’d been in the studio all day, he showered, paying extra attention to letting the hot water soothe the sore muscles in his hand and pulled on a robe, padding upstairs to put on clothes that wouldn’t ruin the sofa with paint and chemicals.
He looked in the fridge and found nothing appetizing but grabbed an apple and some leftover pizza. It was almost nine when Brian came home.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You hungry?”
“I ate with the client.”
Justin nodded and accepted Brian's kiss.
“I’ve got to be at the lawyers tomorrow, official will reading.” Brian poured himself a drink.
“You want me there.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“What time?”
“Nine thirty.”
“I’ll meet you there, leave me the address.” Brian downed his drink and poured another, “Don’t worry about it.”
Justin nodded, “Your call.”
Brian sat down next to Justin, not touching him. Still in his suit he glanced at the clock and wordlessly walked upstairs. Justin didn’t follow, if Brian wanted his space, he’d give it to him. When he came back down he was obviously not planning a quiet night in.
“Got an appointment?”
Brian shrugged, “I’ll be home.”
“I know.”
Brian left and Justin wanted to punch a wall, to scream, to do something, anything that would make him talk, but he knew nothing would work, that this was part of the Brian Kinney operating manual, pain management 101.
Brian sped out of the suburbs and back into the city, not sure where he was headed, mostly just sure he needed to feel something else, something besides the sympathy and pity he was getting from everyone. He didn’t even like his mother, why did they all act like it was such a sad thing that the bitch was gone? He drove faster and found himself on Liberty Avenue, not a surprise; he had known where he was going from the start.
He considered his options. Babylon was gone, they had turned the space into a strip mall, with a Rapkins restaurant and a Hallmark shop that specialized in gay themed crap. There was boy toy, but he had one of those, meat hook, but he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with all the fucking bullshit there, Popperz, which seemed to have replaced Babylon as the vanilla club of choice but none of them were really what he was looking for. He cruised the street, and found what he wanted.
The guy was well-built, broad chest, great abs, he looked back, the guy watched him walk, and within a few moments they were in the alley between Popperz and the bookstore. He leaned his head back against the cold brick of the wall, it was mid November and he could see his breath as he exhaled. He concentrated on the swirls his breath made while he felt the orgasm shoot through him. He zipped back up and walked away, muttering something that sounded like thanks.
He was looking for something more and he knew he’d have to find Eddie or Anita to get what he wanted. If Anita’s clientele was still the same she’d probably be at Popperz, or thereabouts. He paged Eddie who met him on the corner fifteen minutes later, the transaction was made quickly, and Brian was restocked when he headed to Woody’s for a drink.
He arrived back at the house around 3:30 and Justin decided not to say anything about him being late. They’d never actually discussed curfew’s, it hadn’t seemed necessary at the time, and now it seemed more important that Brian just come home, he didn’t care what time, he just wanted him there.
Brian kicked off his shoes, dropped his jacket on the floor and crawled into bed fully clothed.
Justin took off his pants, and his shirt and curled up next to him, making trying to soothe him, just wanting to be near him but he pushed the blonde away and turned his back making it clear that he didn’t want to be comforted.
The next week went by in a similar fashion, Brian went out, got laid, came home smelling of cigarettes, beer and other men, and Justin helped him to bed and wondered how long this was going to last before one of them actually spoke. He didn’t care about the tricking, but Brian didn’t seem to want to touch him, or talk to him, and that he cared about.
He wasn’t usually worried about Brian's pain management skills but then again, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen it this bad either.
Brian wasn’t worried about anything, he went to the office, pounded out brilliant campaigns based on the idea that people liked to have sex and bought things when pretty people wore them, used them, or ate them, and he was right. He started keeping a change of clothes at the office so he didn’t have to come home before he headed to the bars, the baths or the clubs.
His main concern was Justin, the kid wouldn’t leave, and he needed him to. He needed to get Justin away from him before the little twink gave up his whole life and ended up as unhappy and empty as Joan had been. He tried, but Justin wouldn’t take the hint. Brian wanted to scream, to yell, to push, but he doubted those things would work this time.
It was almost four am, he was driving back from the club, he’d been at meathook, enjoying the rough and harsh feeling of the place, enjoying the rough and hard fuck he’s had earlier, and wondering why none of this was keeping the memories at bay. He was heading back to the house when he remembered his mother. He was six, maybe seven years old, Jack was sitting in his favorite chair, drinking, and Brian had done something to piss Claire off, stolen her doll, or her book or something, he was running down the steps with it and Claire had been following him screaming.
He’d turned around, not looking where he was going and knocked over Jacks bottle. He remembered clearly the sound of breaking glass, the image of the shattered bottle, brown fluid seeping across the linoleum and making its way into the carpet. The entire house seemed to go silent and then Jack was on him. What he remembered was that his mother had thrown herself in between them and had ended up with a broken arm, and bruises that kept her in the house for days. Brian flinched at the memory, it had been the last time she’d tried to protect her son, and it hadn’t worked anyway. Jack had gotten to him despite her efforts.
He put his foot down on the gas, trying to drive away from the memory when the car spun. He wasn’t aware what was happening at first, his mind lost to memory, his reflexes dulled by drink and drugs and then everything went black
It was five in the morning and Justin was pacing, he’d been late before, but never this late. He called Michael, who hadn’t seen him. He called Emmett, who said he’d left Woody’s at two, he didn’t know who else to call, if he called Deb she’d just worry as well, if he called his mother, well, there’s be more explaining than he had time for.
He was unable to think, his anxiety was making him shake. He took a drink to steady himself, lit a cigarette and tried to convince himself that it was all fine, that Brian was grown man, and was just a little later than usual. It was after six when the phone rang.
Justin made record time, and probably broke forty major laws getting to the hospital, but he was there.
“Brian Kinney.”
The nurse looked up at him, “Sign in here.”
“No. I’m here to see Brian Kinney.” His voice was shaking, his body was shaking, his head was spinning. Brian was dead. He knew it. He couldn’t breathe.
The woman at the desk looked up from her clipboard, “And you are?”
”I’m his partner, where the fuck is he?”
Then he heard Brian's voice. “Get that thing away from me!”
Justin didn’t wait for the nurse to respond, he followed the sound of Brian bellowing. He found him behind a curtain halfway down the hallway fighting off a couple of orderlies.
“Brian.”
“Justin, tell them to get that thing the fuck away from me.”
”Brian, just…” Justin didn’t know what to tell him, his face was bloody, his arm was cut, and the doctors were trying to give him a shot, which Brian apparently was resisting.
Justin walked closer. “What happened?”
“I have no fucking clue, I’m on my way home, and suddenly these assholes are trying to use me like a fucking pincushion.”
“We just need to sedate him so we can tend to his wounds and set his arm.” one of the orderlies grunted as he tried again to restrain the man.
Brian flailed out and finally the orderlies got one of his arms in restraints. “Get the fuck off me.” Brian gritted out as he tried to bat them away with an arm that wasn’t working all that well.
“Brian.” Justin said it softly, coming to his side; glad he was alive, wanting to kill him for acting like such an asshole. “Brian.” He repeated.
“What?”
”Let them take care of you, you’re bleeding.”
Brian tried to move his hand up to his face where Justin was running his fingers below the cut but his arm didn’t seem to cooperate. “Fuck, I think I broke my arm.”
Justin took in the odd angle at which his arm was dangling and nodded, “you need to let them fix you.”
Brian lay back, his face still showing his defiance, but allowed them to administer the shot. “We need to get his face cleaned up, and get him to X-Ray.”
Justin nodded, “What happened?”
”There was a car accident, he was pretty out of it when the EMT’s brought him in.”
Justin’s face went white. Was there, I mean, the people in the other car are they…?”
“No other car, Corvette vs. Tree, seems like the tree won.”
Justin nodded, he hadn’t killed anyone. He watched them clean up the wound on Brian's head, it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed, and the other cuts were mere scratches. He answered their questions as to Brian's health history as they gave him five stitches above his left eyebrow. “We’ll have the plastic surgeon come down and do a consult in the morning, make sure there’s no scarring.” Justin simply nodded. He hated hospitals, he hated medical procedures, he hated doctors, and right now, he hated Brian.
When they wheeled Brian out to get his arm X-rayed he made the calls he’d been dreading.
Two hours later, when Brian was back in the room, his left arm in a cast, shoulder in a sling, everyone had gathered to greet him.
He was awake, and angry, and as his eyes opened his head began to pound harder. “Justin, get me some fucking aspirin.”
Justin stood next to him, the rest of the motley crew smiling slightly. “I think the doctor has to okay that first. And um…”
Brian looked up, “The police want to talk to you.”
Brian lay his head back on the pillow, “Not now.”
“What the fuck are you all doing here?” he asked, eyes still closed.
“Justin called us.” Michael said, “Christ, Brian you could have…” Ben put a hand on Michaels arm, shaking his head, now was NOT the time.
Michael stood arms crossed, worried and aggravated. Emmett stood behind Justin, “How you doing sweetie?”
“I’m fine.” Justin lied.
“You’re not allowed to use that word.” Brian said, smiling slightly. Justin smiled too.
“Well, in this instance, I’m fine and you’re not.”
“No, I’m perfect, dislocated shoulder, broken wrist, and a headache that’s trying to kill me from the inside out.”
Justin kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll see if I can get you some aspirin.” Brian nodded eyes still closed.
“The rest of you can go home, I’m not dead, so there’s nothing fun left to see.”
“I’ll stop by tomorrow.” Michael said as he kissed his friend. Brian held his arm a moment, “don’t worry, it’s just a scratch, I’ve had worse.” Michael kissed him again and walked away.
“He has you know, had worse.”
Ben nodded, “I’ve assumed.”
“We don’t talk about it, he doesn’t talk about it.”
“Maybe he should be talking about it.”
Michael shrugged, “You want to be the one to get Brian to talk about something he doesn’t want to?”
Ben smiled, “Good point.”
Lindsay had stayed home with the kids but Justin called her to give her an update, and she was relieved. “What’s he gonna do?”
“What do you mean?”
”Justin, he can’t just pretend this didn’t happen.”
”No, but we’re not there yet, lets start with getting him home before he kills an orderly.”
Lindsay gave a small laugh and they both hung up.
When Justin got back to Brian he was alone with Deb. “Make her go away.”
“You want me to make Deb do something?”
Brian closed his eyes again, “Deb I’m okay.”
“You’re fine, you’re perfect, you’re okay, you’re an asshole Brian, and you better pull yourself together.”
Brian nodded, “I’ll do that right now mom just go home.”
Deb kissed him on the forehead, “I’ll be by tomorrow with lemon bars, and chicken soup.”
“I broke my arm, I don’t have a cold.”
She smacked him lightly on the head and he winced. “Fine, chicken soup, tomorrow.”
She smiled and left.
“Is everyone gone?”
“Yeah, you chased them all away.”
“Good, now you can go too.”
Justin froze. “I’m not leaving.”
“I’ll be fine, I’ll see you at home.”
“Brian you don’t have a car.”
”WHAT?”
“You totaled the ‘vette.”
“Fuck, I liked that car.”
“Yeah well, I like you more, and you almost totaled yourself.”
Brian rolled his eyes and then winced at the pain it caused. “Lets not be a drama queen about this, I was in an accident.”
“That the police want to question you about.”
“Fuck, was there another car, was anyone else…”
“No, you hit a tree you asshole.”
“Why is it that my car gets totaled, my arm is broken, my head feels like it’s about to fall off and people can’t seem to stop calling me an asshole.”
”Because you’re an asshole.”
“Your education did wonders for your vocabulary.”
“Brian…”
Brian put up a hand to stop him. “Can we not do this now.”
Justin clamped his mouth closed. “Why do you want me to leave?”
“I said I don’t want to do this now.”
“Fine.”
“And you’re still not allowed to use that word.”
“Fuck you.”
“Later, when we get home.”
Justin smiled, “Promise?”
He pulled Justin towards him with his good arm and kissed him, hard. “Promise, now get me the fuck out of here.”
It was several hours before they were actually allowed to leave. First the plastic surgeon came, and scheduled an appointment for two weeks, at which point Brian had to come back and have the wound cleaned up, any scar tissue removed etc. Then the police came.
They went over the story time and time again and Brian’s answers remained consistent. “By the time the they took blood your tox screen came back clean, but don’t do it again.” was all the officer said before he left.
Justin didn’t say anything, he had known Brian was at the very least drunk when the accident happened but they found no controlled substances in the car, or on him, and his blood alcohol level was below the legal limit once they finally got him tested, he was lucky not to lose is license, but maybe he should have. Justin wasn’t really looking forward for a repeat of this morning’s activities. On the other hand, maybe this had been enough to bring Brian back to his senses.
Once they’d signed all the paperwork, picked up the prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy and gotten Brian relatively comfortable in the car it was almost noon. They drove home in silence.
Justin was helping Brian out of the car and into the den. He was settled on the couch when he first spoke.
“You should go.”
Justin smirked, “yeah, I should go.”
He sat down next to Brian, who turned his dark eyes on him with a deadly seriousness. “I’m not kidding, I want you out of here.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Justin settled his head against Brian's chest, “you’re stuck with me.”
Brian struggled and moved away from Justin. “You shouldn’t be stuck with me.”
“I’m not, I chose to be with you.” Justin was getting aggravated now. “What the fuck is this about?”
”It’s about you. You need to move on.”
“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m not giving you a fucking choice.”
“It’s not your decision to make.”
“I don’t get to decide who I live with? Justin, get the fuck out.” Brian turned his back to him, pouring himself a drink. He knew Justin was stubborn, and it was killing him to do this but he also knew it was the right thing, the only fair thing for Justin.
“Brian, you shouldn’t be drinking with the stuff the doctors gave you.”
“You’re not my fucking mother.”
”No, unlike your mother, I give a shit what happens to you.”
Brian turned quickly. “Shut your fucking mouth, you have no idea what you’re saying.”
Justin took a step back from him, scared. “Brian.”
“Just get out.” He sat back down on the sofa.
Justin was beyond aggravated, beyond angry, he was irate, he was…he knocked the drink out of Brian's hand, straddled his lap and kissed him, hard, pinning him to the sofa, pushing lightly against his good shoulder, grinding his body against Brian's.
Brian resisted, and then couldn’t, opening his mouth and letting the blondes tongue explore the recesses there, he felt Justin nibble on his lower lip, open his mouth fully and kiss him deeply, claiming him in a similar manner to their first kiss when he’d come back. His hands were roaming, carefully but still some how forcefully, and when he pulled his mouth away looking into Brian's eyes, they were both breathing hard.
Do you really want me to leave?
Brian dropped his head, “No. But you should.”
“What the fuck is this about?”
“You’ve got to go, before it’s too late and there’s nowhere for you to go.”
“Brian, I’m NOT leaving, so drop it.”
“Justin.”
“Brian I don’t know what else to say, I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned into Brian again, kissing him passionately, showing him with his mouth, and his fingers and his skin what his words were apparently not making clear.
”Can we talk about it later?”
“You promise we’ll talk?”
Brian nodded and with his good arm threw Justin down on the sofa, and very carefully they managed to remove most of their clothes.
Justin lay entwined in Brian's arms, sated, sweaty, naked, and listening to him breathing, they still had a lot to deal with, but he thought maybe the crisis had been, if not averted, at least mitigated.
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