Crashed 5/? Brian/Justin Episode 510 AU
Title: Crashed 5/?
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!
THANKS for all the continuous feedback! I tried to end this one a bit happier, okay? Let me know if the Brian-ness is still Brian!
5
Brian Kinney had never said those words to anyone but Michael in his entire life and as soon as they were out of his lips, he instantly regretted it.
"NO!" he shouted. "I take it back! I take it back! I don't. Justin…" he whispered as he was pushed out of the way by nurses. A hoard of people came rushing in and immediately began working on the blond. They ushered him out into the hallway where his mother was standing.
"What's going on?" she asked, barely keeping her sanity. Brian understood how she felt.
"He… it just… the machine started- they-" He couldn't bring himself to say the words he feared the most: they might not be able to save him.
They both stood watching as a doctor inserted a tube into Justin's throat and attached a bag to it. Brian cursed himself for refusing to watch ER with Justin on the rare occasions when Justin had invited him to. At least if he had-
Brian knew it didn't matter. Nothing mattered because if one thing mattered, then it all had to have significance and there wasn't time to contemplate all those lost moments. There wasn't time to think about all he could have had with Justin, if he'd allowed himself to indulge in the pleasures of having a real partner, a mate.
He knew in those moments, of watching them trying to revive the blond and shocking his chest with paddles, that if Justin didn't survive, he wouldn't live. He could think of no greater Hell than to live the rest of his life wondering what he and Justin could have shared if he'd been able to get out of his own way long enough to let the blond connect to him. Sure, he and Justin connected a lot, but he'd never let Justin truly connect to him emotionally, not really.
Brian had never shared his thoughts with Justin, not about important stuff anyway. Sure they'd talked about clothes and fashion and celebrities and sex and gossip and all other queer interests. But they'd never really shared life stories, of course Brian's reasons for avoiding that particular indulgence had been solid at the time, but held little more than a paperclip as he stood watching his lover's life ebbing away.
"Brian?" Jennifer said, breaking his thoughts. He looked at her, almost unable to bear the pain in her eyes. "Brian, you have to promise me something."
"What?" he asked quietly.
"Do NOT give up on my son," she spoke, demanding the promise. "Do not give up on him. He's not dead until they tell me otherwise and you can't give up on him either. He's loved you too long and too hard, survived too much, to leave you now. So do not leave him."
Brian pondered her request as well as the words he'd spoken earlier. He'd finally said the words that Justin had been desperate for all along, a disaster too late. He wanted to be able to reassure her and make promises to her, but he wasn't sure he should be allowed the opportunity.
He'd finally said the words and, in the back of his mind, entertained the idea that perhaps those words were what Justin was waiting for, before finally being able to find peace. Perhaps Justin truly wanted to rest and be in a sunshiny, happy, peaceful, pain free place. Perhaps he'd been wanting to be set free all along.
"I- I can't," he said softly, taking one last look at Justin. "I shouldn't-"
He turned, heading quickly for the door. He'd caused Justin so much pain already; he couldn't bear to be responsible for Jennifer's pain as well. He'd both tortured Justin's emotions and been cruel, almost emotionally abusive to him. And he'd finally done it: said the words that would hurt Justin more.
"Where the fuck are you going?!" Michael asked, yanking Brian's hand back.
"I shouldn't-"
"The fuck you shouldn't," his best friend said as he yanked Brian into the men's room. "Fuck you, Brian, if you think you're gonna run away from him again. Fucking own your emotions for a change and be a grown-up. Justin LOVES you," he shouted. "He fucking LOVES you and all you do is push him away. That's bullshit. If you can't tell him how you feel, at least stay here and show it for god sake."
"I DID!" Brian yelled. "I DID SAY IT! I TOLD him I loved him, just now! AND HE FLATLINED, MICHAEL! HE DIED!"
"HE'S NOT DEAD YET!" Michael screamed, shoving Brian against the wall and staring up at him. "He's not dead yet, but he will be if the only person he truly loves leaves him. He needs you here, Brian, in the same way that you needed him with you with the cancer stuff. Only he's not pushing you away like you did. He needs you. Now, are you going to be a man and stand by yours? Or are you gonna run off like a scaredy little faggot?"
Brian nearly bit through his cheek at those words: scaredy little faggot.
He could still hear his father's booming voice yelling the words. They echoed in the hollows of his mind, both screaming words and drunken slurred words alike. Scaredy little faggot.
"Michael," Brian whispered slowly, unsure of what he wanted to say.
"If you walk off on him now, he may as well be dead, Brian. How is he gonna survive a long recovery without you to support him? He barely survived the last one and this will be much worse."
Brian nodded slowly, inhaling a deep breath.
"Brian, you didn't cause this," Michael added. "Him flat-lining, him being there- I know how you think. I know you're blaming yourself for this entire thing but it's not your fault. He didn't flat-line because you told him you loved him. C'mon, you finally saying the words is gonna make him fight that much harder to live so he can tell you 'I told you so'," his friend laughed.
Brian hadn't considered that possibility.
That did sound incredibly like something Justin would take extreme pleasure in doing.
Brian could just imagine the blond torturing him until he'd admit it again. First, Justin would suck his cock just enough to make him really hard. Then Justin would say, "Tell me" and Brian would refuse. Next, he pictured Justin rimming him for an hour, waiting for the words to escape his lips, but it would feel too good, that Brian wouldn't want it to stop it with the truth. Then Justin's tongue would slide down a little bit, below his hole, to that little tender spot that both knew would push Brian over the edge. Justin would lick it and blow on it and caress it with his tongue until he had Brian spouting sonnets and things about sunshine and stars and roses.
And Brian Kinney would love every minute of it.
"Brian?" His eyes focused on Michael again. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah, Mikey," he nodded his thank you before they walked out. He turned down the hallway to where he'd left Jennifer but she wasn't there. Instead, she was in the room beside Justin, crying. The machines were still on though and Justin's chest was rising and falling, not normally, but it was rising and falling. He was alive.
"You can go in for a minute," a nurse told him as she walked out.
He opened the door and walked up to the table and Jennifer was practically hysterical. He wrapped his arm around her and she buried her face in his chest as they both held Justin's hand.
"They don't think he'll survive surgery," she whispered. "They say he's too weak. They say it's my call of how much they should do to keep him alive. If he crashes again… they said it's possible he'll just keep crashing throughout surgery and how much should we put his body through before we let him go?"
He held her tighter and wiped a tear from his eye as he stared at Justin, looking even paler than he had not twenty minutes ago. "Go tell them to just keep bringing him back. Tell them to get him through surgery by whatever means."
"But Brian-"
"Go tell them," he told her. "He's going to make it through this, okay? I'm not going to let him leave us." He promised her what she'd wanted to hear and she walked out the door.
He knew he only had a minute until they'd come to take him to surgery and he sat on the stool beside the blond. "I know when it was," Brian whispered into Justin's ear as he leaned in as close as he could get.
"That night… at Babylon. I was dancing with these two hot guys and suddenly they were gone. I turned to see them surrounding you and touching you and I didn't like it. I pulled you out of their clutches and we danced all night long. I took you to the loft and we continued to dance until dawn, remember? I'm sure you do," Brian smiled.
"Probably have pictures you drew of me too, huh? Little twat. So you fuckin' listen to me right now. You cannot fucking die on me when you still have to kick my ass for not telling you that I love you sooner. You got that? So enough with the queened out flat-lining heart stopping bullshit, okay? I get the fuckin' point here, Justin: you knew it all along. You were right and I was wrong and I deserve to be punished. I get it. But the only one able to administer the punishment is you, so you're just gonna have to suck it up, quit the dying, and let them fix you. Got it?"
Brian kissed his ear gently as the nurses and a doctor walked in. "We're taking him now," they said. Brian nodded.
He'd said his piece and he knew Justin had heard him. He just knew it.
"I love you," he whispered once more before they wheeled him off to surgery.
Brian smiled softly as he watched Justin go.
The blond would be fine. He had to be. Brian was sure of it.
To be continued...