Eventually Justin had to put his feet back on the ground, from his tiptoe position. He still felt giddy and unreal. It was like the painkillers he’d taken after the bashing: the pain was still there, under you and all around you, but you were floating above it. Safe. He had always felt safe in Brian’s arms. Safe, and loved. And now Brian had put it into words.
“Take me home,” Justin croaked. After all the fear and misery, it seemed now as if the noise was the worst part of it. The sirens were still blaring, or maybe that was in his head. But it had all been blocked out, for a moment, by a hoarse whisper in his ear.
Brian helped him find the paramedic and return the jacket. Then he draped his own jacket around Justin’s shoulders and pulled him in close. He shortened his stride so they could walk in pace to the car. The limo driver’s shift was long since over; after the hospital he had taken Brian home to pick up his Corvette, and Brian had driven himself back to what was left of Babylon. As they walked Brian noticed the smell of smoke was still in the air, even three blocks away. Or maybe it was in Justin’s hair, or in his own nostrils. Maybe he would always smell it. He had breathed in terror and scarred his lungs with it.
At the car, he eased Justin into the passenger seat like an invalid and closed the door for him. Justin stared straight ahead. Brian climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be there,” he said. “Did the police interview you?”
“Yeah. First I had to wait for the paramedics, because they wanted everybody checked out even if they felt okay. Then Carl said they wanted to talk to as many people as they could at the scene, so I waited to be interviewed. Not that I know anything.” He added flatly, “I guess it can’t be an accident. Like the boiler blowing up or something? The cops wouldn’t tell me.”
“Theodore made sure everything was up to code and beyond,” Brian said. He thought, Someone did this on purpose . . . Someone tried to take him from me. And Michael and Lindsay and all of them. All I have. All I have,. . . Another wave of rage went through him, but it was weaker than it had been at the hospital. He was too tired now even for anger. He glanced over again and saw the same exhaustion on Justin’s face. A thought struck him. “Did your mother go home?”
Justin roused himself a little. “The police interviewed her, too. She left just before you came back. She said she was going home and would call the hospital. When will they know, about, about -- “ he stammered. “Michael?”
“Debbie said she’d call if there was any change. I’ll go back in a few hours.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You need some sleep.” Justin opened his mouth again but Brian gave a sudden
jerk of his head, as if he were shaking something off. He doesn’t want to talk
about Michael, Justin thought. Then he realized he didn’t want to, either.
“You didn’t take your mother home?”
Justin blinked. “Oh . . . that guy did. She wanted me to go with her but I told her I was waiting for you.”
Brian felt another lurch in his chest. He hadn’t arranged anything with Justin. Once he knew Justin was safe, he had pointed him towards his mother and then run after Debbie to the ambulance. But Justin had known he’d come back. He hadn’t said anything, but Justin had known.
Well, at least tonight he’d finally said what he should have. Even if Justin had known that without being told, too.
Justin said doubtfully, “But maybe we should go back to the hospital right now.” His throat tightened again at the thought. He didn’t want to face it.
“There’s nothing to do now except wait, and we can do that at home. I want you to get some sleep.”
“But – “
“What guy?” Brian suddenly asked. He remembered some vague figure standing with
Jennifer. Wrapped in a blanket with Jennifer. Now he had a chance to think about
it. “Who is he?”
“Her – “ Justin paused. The harsh words he had said only hours earlier seemed petty now. What if they had been the last words he’d ever said to her? “Her boyfriend,” he finished.
Brian nodded. He’d seen some hottie with Jennifer at Justin’s art show. He’d stayed out of it then. He decided to stay out of it now.
They drove in silence for a few minutes. At a stoplight Brian leaned over to kiss Justin behind the ear. With his eyes half-closed, Justin gave a little smile. He put out his hand to pat Brian’s knee, then rested it on the inside of Brian’s thigh. Brian snaked his own hand under Justin’s arm to change gears. “Shit,” Brian said suddenly.
“What? What now?” Justin yanked back his hand and sat up, alert again.
“I was – “ Brian glanced in his mirrors, pulled the car over to the curb, and stopped. Justin stared at him. Brian said finally, “Your apartment’s on Monroe, Debbie told me? Then I’m going the wrong way.”
“My apartment?” Justin repeated stupidly.
“I’m sorry,” Brian said, and gave a rueful smile. “When you said to take you home, I thought you meant the loft. I’ll turn around.”
“But – “
Brian shifted out of neutral. Justin grabbed his arm. “Wait. I did mean the loft.”
“You said home.” They looked at each other. Brian said softly, “I’m glad you think of it like that.”
“I guess I do. No matter where I’m living.”
Brian pulled away from the curb. His eyes were back on the road but Justin saw that he was smiling to himself. “But Brian, I – maybe I’m not being clear –“ He broke off.
“Say it, whatever it is. There’s nothing we can’t say now.”
A fleeting smile passed over Justin’s face and then faded. “It’s just that, tonight – with all this horrible – I can’t even think about, about – it wouldn’t seem right to – and I’m so fucking tired -- “
Brian suddenly knew what he meant. He snorted. “Relax. Even I’m not thinking about my dick right now.”
“Okay.” Justin managed to smile. With all their history it seemed absurd, but he couldn’t imagine launching into a fuckfest now. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not going to molest you. I want to be with you, that’s all.”
“Yes,” Justin agreed.
“Make sure you’re okay.”
He put his hand back on Brian’s leg and kept it there. “I’m fine.”
But at the loft he seemed unsteady on his feet. The paramedic on the scene had decided he wasn’t in shock and that his level of smoke inhalation wasn’t serious, but he had a sudden coughing fit as soon as they got inside. He hung on to the back of the couch, coughing and gagging. Brian brought him a glass of water. When Justin reached to take it, he swayed and had to grab hold of Brian’s arm.
“Easy,” Brian said. “Are you just tired? What’s wrong?”
“I’m a little dizzy,” Justin admitted. “It’s okay, Brian, they checked me out.”
The coughing subsided and he sipped at the water.
“Don’t stand there, sit down.”
“Like this?” Justin looked down at his filthy clothes. “On your furniture?” He shot Brian a mischievous grin, like a sudden gleam in the dark.
Brian’s heart burned in his chest at the sight. He couldn’t grin back. Trying to be matter-of-fact instead, he said, “Let’s get you into the shower and then into bed.”
“I can shower by myself, Dad.” Brian grunted. Justin was immediately sorry he’d made the joke, but it reminded him of something. “Hey, did you hear what happened with my asshole father?”
“No.” Brian refrained from saying that he was rarely given the family news any more. By anyone. “Don’t tell me he was there?”
“Ha! If he was, it would only be because he was planting the bomb.”
They both paused at the word. A bomb . . .
Justin handed Brian back the glass and started for the bathroom, talking over his shoulder. “He had me arrested!”
”No shit,” Brian said, watching him. He was still walking unsteadily. “I’m coming with you.”
“Brian – “
“I don’t want you to fall and crack your head on the tiles. I’ve spent enough
time in the emergency room tonight.” He added, “Don’t worry, I’ll stand outside
and watch you soap up. And I promise I won’t jerk off.” Justin surprised him by
actually being able to laugh. In the bathroom, he made no protest as Brian
helped ease him out of all his clothes.
He had a dozen little cuts from flying glass and was bruised all over his chest and back. Brian inspected each wound. Justin said patiently, “The paramedic already did all this.” Brian nodded, then leaned down and pressed his lips gently to the biggest purple welt, above Justin’s right nipple. “Well,” Justin admitted, smiling. “He didn’t do that.”
“I should hope not,” Brian said. His voice was light, but when he straightened he looked at Justin with the same intensity he had had outside of Babylon. I love you. . . He was still saying it, with his eyes. Justin’s breath caught and he coughed again. Brian patted his shoulder, then went to the shower and turned on the taps, testing the water temperature on his hands before nodding for Justin to step in.
Justin lifted his soot-smeared face to the cleansing water and started to tell Brian about his encounters with Craig. It was good to have something else to think about. He grew animated, raising his voice over the water, repeating what he had said and what his father had said back. “And then he told the cop to arrest me!” He turned to let the water hit his back, glancing out of the shower glass at Brian. He was leaning against the sink counter, nodding and answering, his eyes taking in Justin’s movements as he reached for the shampoo, watching that he was okay. Ready if he needed help.
Justin felt comforted. He realized, as he finished his story, that he had wanted to tell Brian about his father all along. After the breakup, he had prepared himself for how badly he would ache for Brian when he was alone in his bed at night. But his need to share even the little daily things with Brian had taken him by surprise.
The filth and ash turned to black liquid, sliding down his legs and puddling on the floor of the shower before it swirled down the drain. If only it were that easy to make it all go away, Justin thought. He turned off the water.
As he stepped out, Brian wrapped a towel around him, holding it gingerly because his own hands were still covered with grime. “Now you’re the dirty one,” Justin said. He added smiling, “Not that you weren’t always.”
“I’ll shower in a minute. Let’s get you in bed.”
“You really don’t have to nurse me.”
“Yes, I do,” Brian said, so sharply Justin looked up in surprise. Their eyes met. Then Brian’s face relaxed, and he leaned in to kiss Justin’s forehead. “Damn,” he said when he pulled back. His mouth had left a trace of soot on Justin’s freshly scrubbed skin. Brian took an edge of the towel and swiped it away.
In the bedroom, as Justin padded naked to the bed, Brian stopped him for a moment. “Here, wait.” He opened the closet and pulled out a pair of soft grey sweat pants. They were Justin’s. “Put these on.”
“But – “
“Just in case,” Brian said. “We don’t want my dick to go up your ass by accident.”
“Cut it out,” Justin said smiling, but he took the sweats. They were a favorite pair, as Brian knew. There was an awkward pause. As he pulled them on, Justin said finally, “I realized right away I had left these here. I was hoping you’d drop them off sometime.”
Brian said nothing. Justin stood in front of him and looked up, quizzical. Brian let out a little sigh and said, “I was hoping you’d come by to pick them up.”
Justin’s lips parted but he couldn’t find anything to say. He looked at the beautiful face, haggard with fatigue and smeared with dirt, the eyes vulnerable in a way they had never been before. He was defenseless. “Brian,” Justin whispered, and pulled his head down gently for a long kiss.
“In you go,” Brian said when they broke it. Justin stretched out gratefully in the bed while Brian pulled the sheets up over him. Justin paused, then smiled wistfully.
“What is it?” Brian asked.
“I moved over here automatically. Like it’s my side of the bed.”
“It is your side.”
Justin made a sound in his throat, and snuggled down into the pillows, breathing in the scent. Whoever had been here, at least there were no traces. It all smelled of Brian. He tried to inhale more deeply, but it set off more coughing. He sat up again. “I’m okay,” he insisted, as Brian’s brows furrowed. To distract him, Justin nodded at the phone. “You should check your voicemail.”
“No, I told Debbie to call my cell.” Reminded, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and laid it on the bedside table. Then he shrugged and picked up the cordless, and punched in the voicemail code. He listened for a few minutes. “Oh, Christ.”
“What is it?”
“A million fucking messages. From the newspapers, and channel 12 . . . Fuckers.
They want to talk to the owner of the club destroyed in the – holy shit, one of
them is calling it the Gay Club Bombing.”
“I guess they’ve made up their minds what caused it and why,” Justin said morosely.
“How do I feel?” Brian demanded of the air as the voices went on in his ear. “How the fuck do they think I feel?”
“Hang up.”
Brian made a movement, then paused. “This one is Carl, he says I should come down to the station tomorrow, but not to worry . . . oh.” He smiled a little, and rolled his eyes at Justin. “This one is Cynthia. Says she found out from the limo company I was okay, and then she tracked down Ted . . . Always efficient.” Suddenly he gave a bark of angry laughter. “She thinks I’m out getting loaded now.” He hung up. “Yeah, that’s me. Always out getting drunk when people need me.”
“That’s not true.”
“No, sometimes I’m flying off to get laid instead. I’m taking a shower. You
should go to sleep.”
To placate him, Justin stretched out and closed his eyes. As soon as he heard Brian get into the shower, he opened them again. He didn’t want to fall asleep before Brian came to bed. As tired as he was, his mind was overwhelmed with panicky thoughts. All the screaming, and trying to find his mother. Someone asking him for help. He closed his eyes again and envisioned himself, as if he were watching it from outside, as someone named Justin stood there. A young man holding a drink, the floor vibrating under his feet with the heavy beat – and then a sudden whiteness, and a bigger noise – “Jesus,” he said out loud.
“You’re not sleeping,” Brian observed. He was standing by the bed toweling his hair.
“It was so fucking horrible,” Justin said, and shivered. Brian tossed the towel to the floor, turned off the overhead light, and climbed naked into the bed. He slid over and pulled Justin up against his side, wrapping an arm around him.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
Justin considered, staring into the darkness. “Not now. Tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
They fell silent. Justin leaned his head against Brian’s, so that he felt Brian’s breath on his cheek. “Say it again,” Justin whispered.
Brian’s breathing paused for a moment. Then he said quietly, “I love you.”
“Mmm.”
“Love me too, right?”
“Mmm.” He kept his body still, but the neediness in Brian’s voice sent a jolt of pity through him. Pity! That was one emotion he’d never felt for Brian Kinney before. No defenses left, Justin thought again. He tilted his head up to kiss Brian’s face, catching the tip of his nose. “You know I do.”
“Of course.” He tried for his usual tone.
But Justin could feel he was still waiting. Suddenly he had to laugh. “It’s nice to hear though, isn’t it, even when you know?”
“Shit,” Brian said, and bit his shoulder gently. “All right. You made your point.”
“Ouch. I’m already bruised.”
“Then we’re all right?”
“I guess,” Justin said, not understanding. “Unless somebody decides to bomb this building.”
“I meant us,” Brian said, suddenly impatient.
Well, that’s more familiar, Justin thought. “Us?”
“That we’re okay, we’re back together.”
“Back together,” Justin repeated. “Jesus. Did I miss something?”
“So we’re not?”
“Brian, come on, this is no time to decide this kind of a – Don’t ask me this tonight. I could have been killed tonight.”
“Exactly,” Brian said grimly. Justin didn’t know what he meant.
“I can’t think about this now.”
“What is there to think about? We love each other. We should be together.”
Justin ran his hand up Brian’s arm, stroking. He said softly, “I used to think like that. I used to think that’s all we needed.”
Brian was silent for a moment. “But you don’t think that any more.”
“We still have . . . problems. We don’t want the same things. Just because you finally said you love me out loud, that doesn’t change anything. It’s not like I didn’t know anyway. Fuck, I knew you loved me before you did.”
“Maybe. But it’s different now. I’m different now.”
“No, you’re not. You just got scared.”
“Of course I got scared! I also got my head straightened out. Look, this isn’t some sudden conversion by a bolt of lightning. I already knew. I already knew I’d made a mistake. God, a whole fucking lot of mistakes.”
He pulled away slightly. Justin nuzzled himself back against his side. “What do you mean, you already knew?”
“I was – “ He stopped. “I was into some shit, doing some
stupid things. It doesn’t matter.”
“You mean your fucking contest?”
Brian fell on to his back in exasperation. Justin laughed. “You’re getting signed affidavits and jetting back and forth to Mexico and you thought I wouldn’t hear about it?”
“I wish you hadn’t. Shit.”
“Well, I didn’t hear how it turned out.”
Brian was suddenly outraged. “I won, how do you think it turned out?”
“Naturally.” He was still laughing, although he knew Brian was getting angrier. More at himself than at me, Justin realized. The thought made him stop. He said more quietly, “I meant how was it when you collected your bet? I heard your prize was his ass. Which is gross, by the way.”
Brian was silent so long Justin thought he had decided not to answer. He said finally, “He came over here and sprawled across this bed.”
“And?”
“And I looked at him, and I thought – I thought -- Why is this fucker here, and Justin isn’t? What the fuck am I winning?”
Justin turned sideways to him. “Did you really think that?”
“I told him to put his clothes back on and get up and go.” Justin ran a finger up Brian’s chest into his hair. It was still damp. Brian said, “So see, I knew. I already knew, even before this happened.”
“But then . . . Why didn’t you come tell me? Why didn’t you come get me?”
There was pain in his voice. “I didn’t know how.”
“Brian.”
“I’ll stop tricking.”
“Oh, I don’t think – "
“I will,” he insisted. “Whatever you want. It doesn’t matter. I’ll do it.”
“Do you think you can?” Justin asked doubtfully.
“Can?” He was outraged again. “I told you, it was never that I wasn’t capable. I wasn’t willing before. Now I am.”
“Okay, okay. But I still don’t get why exactly. I’m not always going to be in near-death situations. I hope. And you’ll change your mind, you’ll – “
“No. No. All I could think in the limo was, I didn’t tell him. I never told him, I never went to him. Oh, Jesus.” He rubbed a fretful hand over his face. “All the possibilities gone.”
“I’m right here. But that’s what I mean, that you’re
only saying this because you were frightened. You don’t want a committed
relationship, you don’t --- “
“Don’t fucking tell me what I want!” Justin was silenced. Brian took in hard
breaths to calm himself. “Listen to me. Are you – “
“Yes,” Justin said hastily.
“They started to close the doors, the ambulance doors. And Ben said, ‘I’m his partner.’ Just like that. ‘I’m his partner.’ It meant something. Even to the paramedics. It meant something.”
“I’m glad they listened.”
“I want to be able to say that.”
“Well, we used to say that we were – “
“Not like this. Not the way he said it. I want to be the partner you’ve always wanted. The partner you deserve. Justin, I can do it, I can.” Justin’s eyes were stinging, as if he were still enveloped in smoke. He turned on his side, away from Brian, but staying close. Brian turned too, and spooned up against him. Brian whispered, “Please let me.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know. Go to sleep, we’ll settle everything tomorrow.”
“Don’t threaten me,” Justin tried to joke. Brian snickered and kissed the back of his neck.
They were quiet. Justin forced himself to lie still. He listened to Brian’s breathing and felt it tickle along his shoulder. He felt the same ache, the same lonely Brian-wanting, he had felt on the borrowed mattress in his own place. His mind became confused with memories, of the two of them fucking on the couch, on the floor, on the big pillows Brian had when there was no furniture . . . A bright white light and the shattering noise. And screaming.
Justin’s whole body jerked violently in the bed.
“What?” Brian asked immediately. He was wide awake. “Nightmare?” He stroked Justin’s back.
“I’m so tired but I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking.”
Brian’s hand slid lower, cupping Justin’s ass gently through the sweats. The next moment he slid his fingers down inside the waistband.
“Brian.”
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered.
“I told you, I don’t think we should – “
“No fucking. It’s just for you. “ Justin grunted. Brian’s hand slipped persuasively along his cock. “Let me suck you off. It’ll help you sleep.”
Justin gave a half-laugh and half-groan, which Brian knew meant yes. He slid down the mattress, tugging down Justin’s sweat pants as he went. “Knew you’d find some way,” Justin said affectionately, his hand in Brian’s hair. After a few minutes Justin closed his eyes and gave himself up to it. To want to kill people because of this joy . . . His breath caught for a moment, unhappily, but Brian knew how to bring him back. And he knew what Justin needed.
After he came, Brian slid his sweats up neatly, and spooned back up against him. “Feel smug, don’t you?” Justin teased, yawning.
“Feel sleepy?”
“Yeah. And wonderful.”
“Justin?” It was a whisper.
“Mmm?”
“Remember after you showed up at Vanguard? After your fiddling expedition.” Justin made a surprised noise. Brian went on, “You asked me for a second chance.”
He waited. Justin said slowly, “And you gave it to me.”
“Yes. Now it’s your turn.”
Justin lifted his face to kiss him, gently and deeply. Brian realized he wasn’t ready to say yes, not out loud. That was all right; Brian knew what that felt like. He’d say yes tomorrow.
In the meantime, Brian said the magic words one more time. Justin smiled in the dark and answered, “I love you, too.”
They slept.