Author's
Note:
This story
came
basically
from
listening to
that old
song There's
a Pawn Shop
On the
Corner of
Pittsburgh
Pennsylvania
(lyrics
here:
http://www.lyricsdepot.com/guy-mitchell/pittsburgh-pennsylvania.html).
I'd been
mulling a
story based
on the song
over in my
mind for a
while,
and then the
Gift
challenge
came along,
and it all
just seemed
meant to go
together.
RL got in
the way of
me finishing
it earlier,
but here it
is at last.
It's set in
an AU where
Justin and
Brian meet
while
they're in
college.
Hope you
enjoy, and
Merry
Christmas to
all.
*****
Brian stood
once more
outside the
pawn shop
trying to
work out
whether or
not there
was any
other way to
come up with
some fast
cash short
of turning
to crime (or
turning
tricks).
He'd already
hocked the
silver
trophies
he'd won for
soccer, the
fuck-ugly
tie pin that
had been his
share when
the family
divided up
his uncle's
stuff the
day after
the drunken
bastard's
funeral, and
even the
bowling ball
that his
father had
given him in
a rare
moment of
generosity
for his
fourteenth
birthday.
The gift had
been based
on some
misguided -
or, more
likely,
drunken -
notion of
father-son
bonding over
a weekly
game. That
delusion had
foundered on
the reefs of
Brian's
total lack
of interest
and his
resolute
refusal to
share any
more time
with his
father than
he
absolutely
had to, and
the bowling
ball had sat
at the back
of the
wardrobe
until Brian
had dragged
it out to
take to the
pawn shop.
He hadn't
gotten much
for it, but
enough to
pay the
cover charge
at Babylon
and buy a
round or two
of drinks.
But now
Christmas
was coming
up, and as
well as
knowing that
Justin was
going to
want to go
out and
party on New
Year's Eve,
Brian wanted
to get his …
well,
whatever the
fuck Justin
was … a
present. He
suspected …
no, he knew
… that
Justin would
get him one,
and he had
to be able
to
reciprocate.
Had to.
Just like he
had to be
able to pay
his own way
when they
went out.
It wasn't
like Justin
was some
spoilt
princess,
expecting
Brian to
pick up the
tab all the
time. In
fact, he'd
probably be
perfectly
happy to pay
for both of
them. But
Brian's
pride simply
couldn't
stomach that
idea. It
was bad
enough that
he was
having some
kind of …
thing … with
a preppy
young
blond.
Having that
blond treat
him like he
was the
princess was
simply out
of the
question.
But Brian
was finding
it
financially
a challenge.
While they
were both in
college,
Brian was
struggling
on a
scholarship
and the
small income
provided by
his
internship,
while Justin
received
more than
generous
financial
support, not
from his
parents (his
father
seemed to be
a first
class
asshole and
not in a
good way)
but from,
apparently,
doting
grandparents.
Before he'd
met Justin,
Brian had
been ready,
willing and
able to find
more than
enough guys
who were
happy to buy
him a drink
or pay for
his cover
charge in
the hopes of
wrapping
their lips
around his
cock - a
favor Brian
was more
than happy
to grant
most of the
time. But
it was
different
with
Justin.
Brian
refused to
think about
why. It
just was.
Justin was
different to
anything and
anyone he'd
ever known
before.
In fact,
their worlds
were so
different
that it was
some kind of
miracle that
they'd ever
met at all.
Although he
was gay,
Justin
didn't hang
around any
of the gay
bars or
clubs that
were Brian's
hunting
grounds and
they would
probably
never have
crossed each
other's
paths except
that they
were both
interning at
the same
firm - Brian
with the
sales team
as part of
his
marketing
degree, and
Justin in
the art
department
as part of
his degree
from PIFA.
They'd
literally
bumped into
each other
one rainy
night as
Brian was
racing to
catch the
bus and
Justin
running to
get to his
car before
he got
drenched.
One look
into those
blue eyes,
one glance
at those
beautiful
fucking
pouty lips,
and Brian
had had to
have him.
He'd been at
first amused
and later
somehow …
not
grateful,
but … well …
something …
that Justin
was a
virgin. But
not some shy
little
shrinking
violet; no,
Justin had
been nervous
but not
shy. He'd
just never
had time, he
explained
later to
Brian. Not
adding that
he'd wanted
his first
time to be …
if not
special,
then at
least
memorable
for more
than the
awkwardness
and
discomfort
that were
inevitably
part of it.
And somehow,
after that
first night,
they'd kept
seeing each
other. Not
just at
work, but …
well, pretty
much
everywhere.
They'd even
had a couple
of what, if
he thought
about it too
much, even
Brian might
have had to
admit looked
pretty much
like dates.
Well, they'd
eaten
together,
and gone to
a movie and
… but that
was just two
guys who
happened to
have similar
taste in
movies
hanging
out. That's
all. And as
for the fact
that they
regularly
seemed to
find
themselves
in the same
bed, in fact
their cocks
seemed to
regularly
find
themselves
in one
another's
orifices …
that was
just … just
…
something.
A great
fuck. A
series of
great
fucks. That
was all.
And as for
the gift …
well, that
was just
because it
offended his
sense of
taste and
style to see
the little
twat cart
around his
sketches and
stuff in
that crappy
old piece of
plastic shit
folio; that
was no way
to make a
statement to
anyone he
needed to
impress.
And when
he'd seen
the embossed
leather one
that would
be so
perfect …
well … it
just … he
just needed
to get
Justin to
upgrade,
that's all.
To something
more worthy
of the
blond's
undoubted
talent. And
Justin would
never buy it
for himself;
the guy had
no taste at
all - look
at the
fucking
clothes he
wore. So it
was left to
Brian to do
it for him.
But right
now Brian
only had one
thing left
that he
could hock -
the watch
his
grandfather
had left
him. It
wasn't a
great watch;
in fact, it
was kind of
lame and the
catch on the
band kept
coming
undone, and
he'd nearly
lost it
twice. But
it was
gold. It
should fetch
enough to
make up the
difference
between his
meager
savings and
the amount
he needed.
Hopefully,
there'd even
be a little
left over
for a few
drinks on
New Year's
Eve.
So why the
fuck was he
hesitating?
He didn't
believe in
sentimental
shit, it got
you
nowhere. So
his
hesitation
had nothing
to do with
the fact
that this
was the only
thing he had
to remind
him of the
single
person who,
during his
childhood,
had seemed
to believe
that Brian
was worth
something.
The only
reason he
had the
fucking
thing, the
reason that
it hadn't
been pawned
long since
by one or
another of
his drunken
relations,
was that the
old man had
specifically
stated in
his will
that he
wanted Brian
to have it.
Brian had
only been
twelve then,
and his
grandfather's
death had
left him
feeling
completely
alone in the
world. Not
that he'd
seen all
that much of
him - he'd
lived in
eastern
Pennsylvania,
and there
had never
been money
to travel
much - but
once he was
gone, there
was no one.
Well, till
he'd met
Michael,
anyway. And
then
Michael's
mother,
Debbie; and
his uncle,
Vic. They
had sort of
given Brian
some sort of
substitute
family.
But even
that small
safety net
came with
strings; he
had to deal
with
Michael's
unrequited
longing and
Debbie's
resentment
of that;
even Vic
wanted
things of
him - he
wanted Brian
to be
smarter and
more
ambitious
and just
fucking
better than
anyone had
ever given
him credit
for being.
All the
things, in
fact, that
Brian wanted
for
himself.
But
sometimes it
got
exhausting,
and he just
wanted
someone who
…
Well, it
didn't
fucking
matter.
And as his
dear old Dad
had pointed
out, if his
grandfather
had lived
long enough
to see how
he'd turned
out, he'd
probably
never have
left him the
watch.
Especially
if he'd
found out
that Brian
was gay.
He'd have
kicked him
to the
curb. Just
like Jack
and Joanie
would.
Well, fuck
them! It
was his
life, and he
didn't give
a shit for
their
opinion.
They had no
right even
to know.
But the
whole
fucking clan
were bigots
and
homophobes
of one kind
or another,
and his
grandfather
would
probably
have been
just like
the rest.
So what the
fuck did it
matter if he
pawned the
lame old
watch?
Better to do
that and get
some cash
for it, than
either spend
money he
didn't have
getting the
watch band
fixed, or
worse still,
lose it
completely
when it just
fell off his
wrist.
*****
Brian had
expected
Justin to
spend
Christmas
Day with his
family, but
to his
surprise,
the blond
didn't seem
in any hurry
for him to
leave when
they awoke
on Christmas
morning
(after a
marathon
fuck session
Christmas
Eve).
Last night
had been
amazing. To
Justin's
surprise,
he'd raced
home from
handing in a
critical
assignment
to find
Brian
waiting for
him inside
his tiny
apartment.
That had
made
Justin's
night to
start off
with; he'd
given Brian
a key a
while back,
but Brian
had never
used it,
which had
made Justin
feel stupid
for giving
it to him.
So to find
him ready
and waiting,
stretched
out on his
little
couch,
wearing only
a
half-buttoned
pair of
jeans and a
lazy grin,
had gotten
Christmas
Eve off to a
great
start. And
then to find
that Brian
had brought
with him
some beer
and a couple
of old black
and white
DVDs and was
ready to
order pizza
and just
stay in
rather than
hit the
clubs had
made it just
about the
best
Christmas
Eve ever.
Okay, so
Streetcar
Named Desire
and Rebel
Without a
Cause
weren't
classic
Christmas
fare. Who
cared?
Brian was
here, with
him, just
the two of
them and
that was all
that Justin
could have
asked for.
To Brian's
own
surprise,
he'd found
that it was
pretty much
his best
Christmas
Eve ever as
well. He'd
thanked his
… something
… very
thoroughly
later, in
all the ways
he knew
best, and
had slept
more soundly
and deeply
than he
could
remember for
a long long
time.
Justin had
woken him
with a blow
job, and
after Brian
had returned
the favor in
the shower,
they'd
stumbled
into the
tiny kitchen
and Brian
had made
coffee while
Justin
heated some
frozen
waffles and
concocted
some kind of
syrup that
he only
persuaded
Brian to eat
because of
the
unmistakable
whiff of
alcohol.
"It's just a
little
Cointreau,"
Justin had
explained.
"I got one
of those
miniatures,
just so I
could make
this sauce
for
Christmas
breakfast."
He didn't
say that
he'd been
hoping and
praying that
he'd get to
spend
Christmas
morning with
his
maddeningly
elusive
lover.
Justin
hadn't
managed to
become "the
guy Kinney
fucks more
than once"
without a
considerable
amount of
self-restraint
and an
almost
uncanny
ability to
know which
buttons not
to push if
he wanted
Brian to
stay around
and not
stage a
major queen
out and
stalk off
just to
prove his
complete and
utter
independence
and freedom
from any
hint of a
relationship.
In fact, as
he stirred
the syrup
and then
poured it
over the
waffles,
Justin was
trying to
figure out
how to
manage the
whole issue
of Brian's
Christmas
gift.
He'd had it
for over a
week now.
He'd
hesitated
over the
purchase,
knowing that
Brian could
well freak
out
completely
over so
expensive a
gift. But
from the
moment he'd
seen the
beautiful
platinum
watch, sleek
and elegant,
just like
Brian, he'd
wanted to
get it for
him and
replace the
tatty old
thing that
he always
wore.
Justin
sensed that
the old
watch had
some kind of
sentimental
value for
Brian, but
it was
really a bit
of an
eyesore, and
didn't at
all match
the image
that the man
was so
intent on
presenting
to the
world.
Justin had
never known
anyone to
dress as
well as
Brian, let
alone
someone on
such a
limited
budget.
But,
although his
clothes were
never
flashy, he
somehow
always
looked
fabulous.
Except for
that old
watch. And
then a week
or so ago,
Brian had
finally
stopped
wearing it.
He'd said
that the
catch was
gone and
that the
fucking
thing kept
falling off;
which Justin
knew was
true. Once
he'd been
the one to
catch it,
just as it
had slipped
off Brian's
wrist.
So it seemed
like it was
just meant
to happen
and that
Justin had
actually
found him
the perfect
gift. If he
could only
persuade
Brian to
take it.
Of course,
it meant
that he
couldn't
replace his
old
portfolio
which was
seriously
starting to
fall apart
with
something
better and
more
stylish, or
buy the new
brushes he
really
wanted for
the oils
class he was
starting
next
semester.
And he'd
have to cut
back on a
few luxuries
like - well,
like
Cointreau in
his waffle
sauce. In
fact, he
might have
to live on
the
traditional
student
staples like
Ramen
noodles for
a while; the
allowance he
got from his
grandfather's
will was
generous,
but it
didn't run
to
extravagances
like
platinum
watches.
But that was
okay.
And if he
and Brian
spent more
time staying
in than
heading out
to the clubs
with their
heavy cover
charges and
expensive
drinks -
that would
be even
better.
Supposing
that after
today there
still was a
"he and
Brian".
"Stop
thinking so
fucking
loudly,"
Brian's
sardonic
voice cut in
on the
scurrying
thoughts.
Justin
smiled at
him, a
little
uncertainly,
and then,
making a
sudden
decision,
moved
towards the
tiny tree
he'd set up
on a little
table in the
corner. He
picked up
the small,
but
surprisingly
heavy
package that
sat there
and,
bringing it
back, thrust
it awkwardly
towards
Brian, still
sitting at
the kitchen
counter.
Brian took
it just as
awkwardly,
staring at
it as if it
might
explode.
Justin felt
an almost
over-powering
urge to go
back to
biting his
fingernails,
something he
hadn't done
since grade
school.
"Well, open
it," he
heard
himself
croak.
Tentatively,
eyes still
fixed on the
package as
if it was a
threat that
required all
his
concentration
to deal
with, Brian
slid off the
ribbon, slipped
a fingernail
under the
tape and
pulled it
open.
That left
him staring
at a box.
A jeweler's
box.
It seemed to
take an
immense
effort for
him to lift
the lid, and
when he did,
he sat
transfixed.
Justin
swallowed
hard. "If
you hate it,
I can ..."
"Of course I
don't
fucking hate
it!" Brian's
voice
sounded
hoarse,
uneven.
"But it's
too fucking
much,
Sunshine. I
can't …"
Justin felt
his heart
threaten to
crack.
"Brian,
please …
it's … it's
just … I saw
it and
straight
away I
thought of
you. It …
it felt like
it was made
for you.
Please don't
…"
Brian sat
shaking his
head for a
moment, then
he got up
and after
seeming to
hesitate for
a moment,
walked
towards the
coat stand
in the small
entrance
way.
Justin felt
sure his
heart was
breaking.
But Brian
didn't grab
his coat.
Instead, he
reached
behind the
stand and
pulled out
another
gift-wrapped
parcel. It
was large, a
large flat
box.
Justin's
heart
stopped
cracking and
began to
thud very
hard.
Brian
carried it
back and
with a shrug
that held
more than a
touch of
fatalism,
held it out
to Justin.
The blond
man took it
carefully,
noticing
that the
parcel
seemed to be
jittering in
Brian's
hands as he
handed it
over, and
that this
continued
once he was
holding it
himself. He
realized it
was because
his hands
were
shaking;
probably as
much as
Brian's had
been.
He sank down
onto his
small couch,
tore off the
wrapping
paper and
carefully
opened the
box. As he
peeled back
the tissue
paper which
cradled the
contents
softly, he
gasped.
It was
beautiful.
Leather of
such a dark
rich brown
that it was
almost
black,
although it
shone with
gleams of
red where
the light
caught it a
certain way,
it was
embossed
with scroll
work across
the top and
down one
side, and
the handles
were
beautifully
tooled,
plaited and
braided, but
soft as
velvet to
the touch.
He imagined
walking into
a meeting,
an
interview,
and pulling
his work
from such a
holder and
knew that
the very
case would
give him
confidence,
would make
an
impression
on his
audience.
But it must
have cost a
bomb. Brian
couldn't
afford
this. How
the fuck was
he meant to
accept
this? Or
how the hell
could he
reject it
without
damaging the
extremely
sensitive
pride of his
lover?
He looked up
at his
lover.
"Snap!" he
said weakly.
Brian's
brows drew
together, as
he realized
what Justin
was saying.
"Sunshine,
it's just a
fucking
case, that's
all. I'm
just tired
of that
ratty old
thing you
lug about
everywhere."
"And I'm
tired of
trying to
catch that
old watch of
yours every
time it
falls off
your wrist!"
Justin
returned,
his mouth
set in
determination.
"Well, you
won't have
to worry
about that
anymore!"
Brian
retorted.
Then snapped
his mouth
shut
quickly,
aware of
where that
little
tidbit could
lead.
"What do you
mean? Did
you lose
it?"
Brian
shrugged.
"Brian …"
"I fucking
hocked it,
okay? I
needed a few
more bucks
to tide me
over
Christmas
and I hocked
it. I'll
get it back
in the New
Year, when
my next pay
check comes
in."
"Brian …"
"Look, I'm
sorry I
don't have
rich
grandparents
who are
prepared to
support me
through
college, but
that doesn't
fucking mean
that I'm
some charity
case …"
"They don't
support me!"
Justin
snapped.
"My
grandfather
set up a
trust fund
to pay for
my college
tuition and
support. He
died a few
years ago.
When my
father found
out I was
gay he and
my
grandmother
tried to
have the
trust
terminated,
but they
couldn't.
That's the
only reason
I have any
money. And
if it's any
consolation
I'll
probably be
eating
noodles for
weeks after
this
Christmas.
And the
thing is …
my asshole
father was
right about
the Trust
fund,
because if
my
grandfather
had known
before he
died, he
would have
fucking
cancelled it
himself.
Alright?"
Brian stared
at him.
Against all
reason, he
found
himself
starting to
laugh.
Justin
glared at
him.
"I'm glad
you find it
so funny."
"My
grandfather
left me that
old watch.
And if he'd
known I was
gay, he
probably
would have
thrown it in
the river
first,"
Brian said,
not laughing
now, but
with tongue
firmly in
his cheek.
Justin met
his eyes and
then stood
and walked
into arms
that were
suddenly
open to hold
him.
He wrapped
his own
round Brian
tightly.
They stood
clinging
together for
long
moments,
lips meeting
lips and
tongues
stroking
tongues.
That led to
an
inevitable
conclusion
and it was
much later,
lying in his
small bed,
head
pillowed on
Brian's
shoulder,
that Justin
said, "I
just don't
want you to
go without
just to buy
me something
that is
beautiful,
but that I
don't really
need."
"Ditto,
Sunshine,"
Brian
responded.
Justin
sighed.
"Brian …
what you
give me …
what you've
always given
me … it
means more
to me than
anything
else."
Brian
stiffened,
still not
ready to
hear some
fucking
declaration
of love -
even from
the man he
knew in his
heart that
he did love
- and
probably
always
would, one
way or
another.
"You let me
be me,"
Justin said
simply.
"You're the
only person
in my whole
life who has
never tried
to make me
be anything
other than
me. That's
the gift you
give me
every day.
I don't
really need
anything
else."
Brian was
quiet then
for so long
that Justin
thought he
might have
gone to
sleep.
Then, his
voice hardly
audible, he
whispered
again,
"Ditto,
Sunshine."
Once more
Justin
turned into
his arms and
hugged him
fiercely.
Brian
clasped his
face between
his hands
and kissed
him.
Then he
seemed to
come to some
decision and
huffed out a
sudden
breath.
"Listen," he
said, "Are
you
listening to
me?"
"Yes,
Brian," his
lover
responded as
patiently as
he could,
wondering
what Brian
was going to
come out
with next.
"We're both
going to get
bonuses for
working our
asses off
over the
Connex
account,
right?"
"Well,
yeah. In
the New Year
sometime."
Brian
nodded. "So
we can just
hang out
till then,
okay? And
not fucking
stress out
over how
much these
fucking
things
cost.
Right?"
"Right,"
Justin said
thoughtfully.
"Or …"
"Or what?"
"How long do
they have to
hold pawned
items?"
Justin
asked.
Brian
shrugged.
"Up to 90
days. Why?"
"Well, we
could always
pawn these,"
Justin said
slowly.
"And get
each other
something
cheap, just
to tide us
over. You
could get
your old
watch out of
hock, and I
could buy a
new band,
and you
could get me
a couple of
paint
brushes or
something,
and then
when we get
our bonuses,
we could get
these back."
Brian was
silent for a
long moment.
"What do you
think?"
Justin asked
anxiously.
"I think …"
Brian said,
a slow grin
crossing the
face that
his lover
was studying
so
anxiously,
"that it's
an okay
idea."
Justin
snorted.
"It's
genius," he
responded.
Brian didn't
argue. Just
kissed him
again.
*****
As soon as
the shops
opened next
day, they
made good on
their
agreement.
After
visiting the
pawn shop,
they headed
for the mall
where Brian
bought
Justin one
(just one,
Justin
insisted) of
the sable
paint
brushes he
lusted
after, and
Justin
brought
Brian a
bracelet,
his lover
having
decided that
there was no
point in
spending
money on a
band for a
watch he'd
never wear
again once
he got his
new one
back.
Justin
thought the
bracelet
looked kind
of cheap,
but for some
reason Brian
loved it.
The soft
black
leather
caressed his
skin, and
the swirls
of the cowry
shells
reminded him
of Justin's
delicate
ears - a
thought he
would never
verbalize to
a living
soul -
including
his lover.
Then they
went back to
Justin's
apartment to
celebrate
with pizza,
beer, and a
long fuck
session.
It had been,
as it turned
out, a very
happy
Christmas.
And life was
good.