Crashed 4/? Brian/Justin Episode 510 AU
Title: Crashed 4/?
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Genre: Brian/Justin
beta: me
Summary: AU after the bombing in 510
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and I have no right to steal them, so I'm borrowing them. Crashed is by Daughtry and I think it's the perfect Bristin song - any youtube video making people out there, PLEASE make a Bristin vid to Crashed!
WOW! TWO PARTS IN ONE DAY??!!! I'm feeling generous and evil all at the same time- AWESOME! It's so good to be back!!! I promise to- well I promise NOTHING basically. Maybe by part 52 Justin will be awake??!! Mwaa ha ha!
THANKS FOR FEEDBACKING! All your comments are inspiring me to write faster and telling me what parts you like has been helping to guide what I need to expand on!! Please keep it up! I really do promise fun slashy endings! (maybe)
4
Brian Kinney had rarely cried. Even as a child, he remembered always being angrier than sad or upset when shit happened. He'd only cried once at the strike of his father's fist and when the tears brought another blow, he quickly learned to bury the hurt. He'd quickly learned to bury everything and hide every emotion or feeling he'd ever had.
As a child, and then as a teen, he thought they would dissipate and disappear by the time he reached adulthood and for many years, he believed that hurt to be gone. But sitting on the waiting room floor while his friends tried to offer him comfort, he realized the hurts were never ever truly be gone and neither would the hurt of losing Justin.
"Brian," he heard people saying. He was sure there were all sorts of sentences but his sobs covered up most of them. Only a few words came through his ears.
It'll be okay. Not dead. You okay? He's strong. Brian, get up. Go see him. Not dead. Brian…
See him? Brian looked up, hating the fact that everyone he knew well was there, watching him cry like a faggot. He hated that. He despised that and he cursed himself for doing it. Yet it was difficult for him to stop. He was slowly pulled up to his feet while he struggled to bury that hurt in the same place as all the rest, but just one thought of that blond mop of hair, and it threatened to boil over again.
He took in a deep breath and let it out very slowly to regain control of himself, so he could be Brian Kinney. He focused on Michael first because it was all he could handle. Michael had been the only one to hear or see Brian cry the few times he'd done it previously.
"Brian, he'd not dead yet and you have to not let him be. You- he needs you," he said and he allowed Michael to hug him tightly.
Brian looked up but didn't see Jennifer. "Where's-"
"She went in to see him. They said he could have a couple visitors while they prep him for surgery. She said she'd take a few minutes and then let you go in."
Right. See him- Brian remembered that. He was going to be able to see Justin's torn and tattered dying body before the surgeons traumatized it more.
He didn't turn around while he waited because he didn't want to see anyone else's face. He didn't want to see their pity or their empathy or sorrow. He didn't want to see anything but Justin, so he walked down the hallway, leaving them in the waiting room. He came to stand outside Justin's room and looked in to him laying there, now only partially covered with a gown.
He looked at Jennifer, crying and holding his good hand, the only part of him that didn't seem to be torn or hurt. He could imagine her cooing all those motherly things to him and calling him 'baby' and 'my little boy' and 'sweetheart'. He could imagine all the words pouring from her lips and prayers and pleads for him to be okay. He could imagine them because he'd call Justin 'baby' a hundred times if he thought it would help.
He'd do anything if he thought it would help.
Brian would do anything. He wanted to do anything to keep Justin.
Why hadn't he been willing to do that weeks ago? Why hadn't he been willing to do that months ago so Justin would have been no where near the damn bar? Justin could have been in bed, underneath him. Fuck, Justin could have been on top of him. Brian would bottom for the rest of his life, if it meant Justin would live.
He knew that wasn't a promise Jennifer was making
A few seconds later, she walked out and hugged Brian tightly. "They said only a few minutes because then they're taking him up."
He nodded and walked in, taking slow measured breaths, so as not to disturb anything. He felt if he did anything wrong, he would mess his boy up even more.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He walked toward his head, toward the stool, and noted the two pieces of metal still sticking out of his body. Justin's body was bloody and cut badly. Glass must have flown at him and he wondered if he'd felt much pain, if he felt much pain.
Brian couldn't even stand to look at the hand, so he instead tried to focus on the good one as he sat and slipped his own hand into it.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Fuck," he said softly. "You look like shit. If you saw this right now, you'd queen out on me for sure," he laughed weakly. "You… you shouldn't have been there. You should have been in the backroom with me or in the limo with me or anywhere with me, Justin. You- fuck. What the hell have I done? Right? How in the hell did this blond little twink get me to my knees sobbing in front of everyone?"
Brian paused to ponder that. He still intended on figuring out when the moment that Justin took possession of his heart was. He entertained, for a moment, that it was the second the bat hit his blond head. However why had he been at the damn prom at all if Justin hadn't already owned his heart at that time, or at least a good portion of it? So perhaps it was before then.
"I bet you know it, huh?" he asked the quiet blond. "I bet you know exactly when it happened."
And that seemed perfectly logical to him, that Justin would have gone over that time and time again in his head- the second he knew that Brian Kinney was falling for him.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Justin, listen to me," he said, leaning forward so he was right near Justin's ear. "Listen to me, okay? I've fucked up a lot when it came to you. I know this. I've been an ass and I've been difficult and- I've been very… Brian toward you. I let you go time and time again and pushed you away and hurt you I don't even know how many times because I never took into consideration your feelings or you. I didn't… I can't use anything as an excuse for that, not anymore. Not when you're lying here fighting for your life."
His eyes scanned Justin's face and he noticed how much paler he was now. Brian had always enjoyed the alabaster expanse of Justin's body. He loved looking in a mirror and seeing how the pale skin always contrasted to his golden flesh. He loved it so much that he'd basically forbidden Justin to ever tan. The blond had laughed it off but Brian also noticed that Justin had never gone tanning and had worn sunscreen during any trip to the beach.
Perhaps that had been Justin's original appeal: that he was such a contrast to every trick that Brian had ever taken home. He was the complete opposite to anything Brian had ever shown an interest in. Twinks never appealed to him and blonds, as a general rule, were of little consequence.
Yet somehow Justin became the ideal partner for him. Justin became who he fantasized about while jerking off in the shower or what he dreamed about during the few nights when he'd slept alone. Perhaps it was because of how much Justin stood out against all the other tricks, both physically and in sexual prowess.
But now, here he was in the hospital, suddenly looking too pale.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Justin, you have… there's a lot of shit they have to do. They think it's gonna be a really long surgery to save you. You just gotta let them do it. You have to just let them save you and not fuckin' fight them on this, okay? I can't-" he paused as a couple tears pooled in his eyes. "I can't live without you, okay? Together or not, I can't be in a world without knowing you're in it."
He wanted to say more. He wanted to say all the things that always got caught in his throat by pride or by fear, but somehow the things didn't come, wouldn't come, couldn't come. He couldn't say them to an unconscious man. If he- When he said them, he wanted to see Justin's eyes looking back at him.
"I-" he stopped and felt the tears slide down his cheeks so slowly. He leaned in to kiss his cheek very carefully, while stroking the pale fingers. "I… I love you," he barely whispered into Justin's ear.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
To be continued...