fic for morbidmuse!
Title: All The Ways We Let Ourselves Get Away
Author: britfacexx
Prompt: For morbidmuse who wanted at least a mention of Lindsay and Gus, so I... uh, wrote an entire fic about them?
Setting: Pre-series up until 101.
A/N: Yeah, I got nothin'. Hope you enjoy! Title comes from the song Bright End of Nowhere by Matthew Good.
Smoke curls around the two bodies lying on the floor of the loft, where limbs and lives are entwined. Outside, the cold Pittsburgh wind blows harshly, but here the air is warm with familiar 'should we's and 'what if's.
Michael thinks he never wants to leave his place, pushed up hard against Brian's side, and he never wants to feel anything else besides the burn of pot in his lungs or the touch of Brian's hand on his stomach, and everything is really fucking perfect until Brian opens his mouth. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Brian inhales deeply and passes his best friend the nearly burned-out joint, laughing and shaking his head. "No."
"She really asked you?" Michael takes a hit, untangling his legs from Brian's, and rolls onto his side, looking away. "You told her you'd rather eat shit and die, right?"
Brian gets quiet, and Michael gets nervous. He turns around so that he's looking Brian in the eyes, pleading that this is all just one big fucking joke. "Right?"
Running a hand through his hair, Brian stubs out the roach and sits up. "Not exactly."
He's not sure why, but he's starting to shake a little, and maybe it's because he remembers the day when they made the pact that they would be together forever like Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad, and they didn't need anyone or anything else, and... "Shit."
Getting a little frustrated, Brian slides back down to the floor and rubs at his eyes. "Christ, Mikey, it's not like you're popping out the kid. You're not even going to be the fucking father."
He knows it's irrational and stupid, and he blames it mostly on the pot, but Michael can't help but blurt out, "I'm supposed to be your best friend!"
The room is still and silent. Brian's features soften, and he gently pulls Michael down to lay against his body, kissing him. Michael starts to passionately kiss him back, and a red flag goes up. Brian knows this kiss. He pulls away, lifting up Michael's head to look at him. "You are."
Michael smiles, a little bit of his world falling back into place.
"I was shitfaced last night, you saw me. I could barely walk, let alone rationalize the reasons I shouldn't say yes to jerking off into a cup so that Lindsay would just shut the fuck up. But what the hell does Linz and her dyke girlfriend wanting a kid have to do with you?"
Then Michael realizes - no apologies, no regrets - and decides that Brian would never understand because he has it all. He's got the amazing job and the fancy apartment and the killer car and two people in the world that are blindly in love with him, desperately clinging on, doing whatever they can to try not to lose him. But he's always moving forward, never looking back. "Yeah, no, you're right," Michael says, as if that would make himself believe it, too. "Never mind."
~
It's four in the morning when Michael's cell phone rings, and he swears this time he won't answer it. He waits for an entire minute, but his phone keeps going off. Emmett finally yells from his room, "Just answer your goddamn phone!" Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, Michael answers with "Where?" and sits up to find a pair of pants.
Brian's already waiting for him outside the Gravel Pit, leaning up against the wall and smoking.
"Need a lift?" Michael sarcastically calls from the Jeep, wanting to get this over with so he could drop Brian off and head back to his own apartment.
Flicking his cigarette butt to the ground, he makes a face and gets in the car. Soon they're speeding down the city streets, and it's just Brian and Mikey. They both forget all the shit that's been going on, mostly the part where they're growing up too fast, until Brian feels something in his pocket. He takes out the cup and shakes it at Michael, grinning.
"Well, don't spill it!" Michael says, his mood lightening a little. He tries to put away all the fear and to remember that this is still Brian. He'll always be the same Brian Kinney, who smokes and drinks and fucks, and who loves Michael, even if it feels like he's moving on with his life. But Michael doesn't want to be left behind, so he'll have to hang on for the ride.
~
The sun is shining, and the snow is melting, and this just might be the most important day of Brian's life. He knocks gently on the front door, only fidgeting a little even though it feels like he's coming apart on the inside. But Lindsay's welcoming him in, now, and there's no time left to agonize over whether or not he is the stupidest fucking queer alive for going through with this. Walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch, he asks, "Where's your pit bull?"
She tries not to, but Lindsay ends up smiling anyway. "I suppose you mean Melanie? She's out getting some groceries."
"Good. Because if she takes one look at this," he pulls a cup out from his jacket pocket, "all of my little swimmers will turn to stone."
Lindsay's eyes are wide with excitement as she takes the cup from him. Brian can swear he saw a little fear mixed in there, too. "So... this is it?"
"You were expecting something else?" Brian watches as she giggles nervously, bringing him back to those forbidden years in college when, for days on end, she was all he could think about.
"No," she tells him, pushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "I better get this in the fridge."
Brian takes the opportunity to slip out, heading back to his Jeep, but Lindsay's running out of the house after him.
"Brian, wait!" she calls.
He stops and turns around, waits for her to catch up, and rests a hand on her face.
"Thank you."
Without thinking, he kisses her softly. "Yeah."
~
"So that's it?" Michael has another swig of whiskey, slamming the half-empty bottle down on the floor a little too hard.
Brian glares at him but picks up the bottle and pours himself another shot. "Don't break that shit, it's expensive." Instead of taking the shot, though, he decides the best course of action would be to chug the rest of bottle so that he wouldn't have to remember any of this in the morning.
Normally, Michael would have said something like, "Jesus, Brian, what are you trying to do? Kill yourself?" but tonight, when he found out that Lindsay is pregnant, everything else seems to take a backseat. "You really did it, then, didn't you?"
"Really really." Brian's trying unsuccessfully to stand, and in the end Michael has to pull him up and put him in bed. As Michael tries to undress him, Brian starts to laugh.
"What's so funny?"
The laughter is quickly mixing with tears, and Michael begins to worry about where this is all going to lead. "Who the fuck would want me as a father?"
Every muscle in Michael's body tenses up, and he sits down on the bed, looking at Brian. "What do you mean?"
In a tone that sounds so much like Jack Kinney it sends chills up Michael's spine, Brian yells, "C'mere, Sonny Boy. Hold still, I've got a little present for ya!"
Everything in Michael's world suddenly shifts. "Brian!"
But he is wracked with sobs now, and Michael knows this routine, but it never gets any easier. He lies down and cradles Brian from behind, holding him firm against his chest. "Brian. Brian, listen. You are not your dad."
Everything is quiet for a while, until Brian breaks the silence and says, "You should have seen her face, Michael."
"Whose face?"
Brian rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling. "Lindsay's."
"When she asked you to be the father?"
He doesn't answer, but Michael can figure it out.
They're falling asleep, the alcohol hitting them both hard, when Michael whispers, "It's because she loves you." He wants to say, "I do, too," but it doesn't matter because Brian's already passed out, snoring faintly beside him. Michael presses his lips to Brian's temple. "You're gonna be a good dad."
~
This isn't exactly how he pictured this day to turn out.
"It's called The Butt. I got it in a catalogue."
Michael can't quite figure out what to say, but he's positive that he's never been so happy to hear the phone ring in his entire life. "Parts department."
It's Brian, and it's happened, and Michael knows their lives are about to change forever.
Author: britfacexx
Prompt: For morbidmuse who wanted at least a mention of Lindsay and Gus, so I... uh, wrote an entire fic about them?
Setting: Pre-series up until 101.
A/N: Yeah, I got nothin'. Hope you enjoy! Title comes from the song Bright End of Nowhere by Matthew Good.
Smoke curls around the two bodies lying on the floor of the loft, where limbs and lives are entwined. Outside, the cold Pittsburgh wind blows harshly, but here the air is warm with familiar 'should we's and 'what if's.
Michael thinks he never wants to leave his place, pushed up hard against Brian's side, and he never wants to feel anything else besides the burn of pot in his lungs or the touch of Brian's hand on his stomach, and everything is really fucking perfect until Brian opens his mouth. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Brian inhales deeply and passes his best friend the nearly burned-out joint, laughing and shaking his head. "No."
"She really asked you?" Michael takes a hit, untangling his legs from Brian's, and rolls onto his side, looking away. "You told her you'd rather eat shit and die, right?"
Brian gets quiet, and Michael gets nervous. He turns around so that he's looking Brian in the eyes, pleading that this is all just one big fucking joke. "Right?"
Running a hand through his hair, Brian stubs out the roach and sits up. "Not exactly."
He's not sure why, but he's starting to shake a little, and maybe it's because he remembers the day when they made the pact that they would be together forever like Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad, and they didn't need anyone or anything else, and... "Shit."
Getting a little frustrated, Brian slides back down to the floor and rubs at his eyes. "Christ, Mikey, it's not like you're popping out the kid. You're not even going to be the fucking father."
He knows it's irrational and stupid, and he blames it mostly on the pot, but Michael can't help but blurt out, "I'm supposed to be your best friend!"
The room is still and silent. Brian's features soften, and he gently pulls Michael down to lay against his body, kissing him. Michael starts to passionately kiss him back, and a red flag goes up. Brian knows this kiss. He pulls away, lifting up Michael's head to look at him. "You are."
Michael smiles, a little bit of his world falling back into place.
"I was shitfaced last night, you saw me. I could barely walk, let alone rationalize the reasons I shouldn't say yes to jerking off into a cup so that Lindsay would just shut the fuck up. But what the hell does Linz and her dyke girlfriend wanting a kid have to do with you?"
Then Michael realizes - no apologies, no regrets - and decides that Brian would never understand because he has it all. He's got the amazing job and the fancy apartment and the killer car and two people in the world that are blindly in love with him, desperately clinging on, doing whatever they can to try not to lose him. But he's always moving forward, never looking back. "Yeah, no, you're right," Michael says, as if that would make himself believe it, too. "Never mind."
~
It's four in the morning when Michael's cell phone rings, and he swears this time he won't answer it. He waits for an entire minute, but his phone keeps going off. Emmett finally yells from his room, "Just answer your goddamn phone!" Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, Michael answers with "Where?" and sits up to find a pair of pants.
Brian's already waiting for him outside the Gravel Pit, leaning up against the wall and smoking.
"Need a lift?" Michael sarcastically calls from the Jeep, wanting to get this over with so he could drop Brian off and head back to his own apartment.
Flicking his cigarette butt to the ground, he makes a face and gets in the car. Soon they're speeding down the city streets, and it's just Brian and Mikey. They both forget all the shit that's been going on, mostly the part where they're growing up too fast, until Brian feels something in his pocket. He takes out the cup and shakes it at Michael, grinning.
"Well, don't spill it!" Michael says, his mood lightening a little. He tries to put away all the fear and to remember that this is still Brian. He'll always be the same Brian Kinney, who smokes and drinks and fucks, and who loves Michael, even if it feels like he's moving on with his life. But Michael doesn't want to be left behind, so he'll have to hang on for the ride.
~
The sun is shining, and the snow is melting, and this just might be the most important day of Brian's life. He knocks gently on the front door, only fidgeting a little even though it feels like he's coming apart on the inside. But Lindsay's welcoming him in, now, and there's no time left to agonize over whether or not he is the stupidest fucking queer alive for going through with this. Walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch, he asks, "Where's your pit bull?"
She tries not to, but Lindsay ends up smiling anyway. "I suppose you mean Melanie? She's out getting some groceries."
"Good. Because if she takes one look at this," he pulls a cup out from his jacket pocket, "all of my little swimmers will turn to stone."
Lindsay's eyes are wide with excitement as she takes the cup from him. Brian can swear he saw a little fear mixed in there, too. "So... this is it?"
"You were expecting something else?" Brian watches as she giggles nervously, bringing him back to those forbidden years in college when, for days on end, she was all he could think about.
"No," she tells him, pushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "I better get this in the fridge."
Brian takes the opportunity to slip out, heading back to his Jeep, but Lindsay's running out of the house after him.
"Brian, wait!" she calls.
He stops and turns around, waits for her to catch up, and rests a hand on her face.
"Thank you."
Without thinking, he kisses her softly. "Yeah."
~
"So that's it?" Michael has another swig of whiskey, slamming the half-empty bottle down on the floor a little too hard.
Brian glares at him but picks up the bottle and pours himself another shot. "Don't break that shit, it's expensive." Instead of taking the shot, though, he decides the best course of action would be to chug the rest of bottle so that he wouldn't have to remember any of this in the morning.
Normally, Michael would have said something like, "Jesus, Brian, what are you trying to do? Kill yourself?" but tonight, when he found out that Lindsay is pregnant, everything else seems to take a backseat. "You really did it, then, didn't you?"
"Really really." Brian's trying unsuccessfully to stand, and in the end Michael has to pull him up and put him in bed. As Michael tries to undress him, Brian starts to laugh.
"What's so funny?"
The laughter is quickly mixing with tears, and Michael begins to worry about where this is all going to lead. "Who the fuck would want me as a father?"
Every muscle in Michael's body tenses up, and he sits down on the bed, looking at Brian. "What do you mean?"
In a tone that sounds so much like Jack Kinney it sends chills up Michael's spine, Brian yells, "C'mere, Sonny Boy. Hold still, I've got a little present for ya!"
Everything in Michael's world suddenly shifts. "Brian!"
But he is wracked with sobs now, and Michael knows this routine, but it never gets any easier. He lies down and cradles Brian from behind, holding him firm against his chest. "Brian. Brian, listen. You are not your dad."
Everything is quiet for a while, until Brian breaks the silence and says, "You should have seen her face, Michael."
"Whose face?"
Brian rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling. "Lindsay's."
"When she asked you to be the father?"
He doesn't answer, but Michael can figure it out.
They're falling asleep, the alcohol hitting them both hard, when Michael whispers, "It's because she loves you." He wants to say, "I do, too," but it doesn't matter because Brian's already passed out, snoring faintly beside him. Michael presses his lips to Brian's temple. "You're gonna be a good dad."
~
This isn't exactly how he pictured this day to turn out.
"It's called The Butt. I got it in a catalogue."
Michael can't quite figure out what to say, but he's positive that he's never been so happy to hear the phone ring in his entire life. "Parts department."
It's Brian, and it's happened, and Michael knows their lives are about to change forever.