QAF Fic: The Pink Posse and I
The Pink Posse and I 2/2 ( part one)
***
No one suffered the way Brian did. First the incompetent Pink Posse couldn't find any guava juice, and then someone gave him an issue of last month's GQ. The gym smelled like piss. It was so hot he had to remove his coat and shirt, leaving him in just a tank top and his black trousers, and he kept feeling Cody's eyes on him.
He was leisurely studying the new Fall line when Cody threw a pen and a notebook down at Brian's feet. Brian raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"
"You're going to write Taylor a letter telling him if he doesn't leave town in three days you're going to die," Cody said simply.
"Now why would I do that?" Brian asked.
"Because I will shoot you in the head," Cody replied.
Brian really couldn't argue with that. Sighing, he turned to a blank page of paper. There was no way in hell Justin would keep away because Cody wanted him too. If anything it would make Justin do the opposite. 'Justin,' he wrote, 'get the fuck out of the Pitts or our next family dinner will be at a funeral home. Brian. PS: I told you you'd get in trouble.'
Cody squinted. "What's that?"
"My letter," Brian said.
"This might be the last time you ever talk to him." Cody obviously hadn't considered telephones or email. "He's your boyfriend. Aren't you going to tell him you love him?"
"We don't talk to each other like that," Brian said. He frowned. "Not... directly, anyway. And we're not boyfriends."
"He said you were." When Brian snorted Cody asked, "Oh yeah? Then what do you call it?"
"Partners."
Cody laughed. "That sounds more serious than 'boyfriends.'"
"It's none of your fucking business, alright?" Brian snapped. He wasn't going to talk to some teenage lunatic about his thing with Justin. It wasn't like they were going to die; Justin would realise the gang thing was ridiculous, and he and Cody would reach a nice agreement that didn't involve weapons, and everyone would go home happy. Or else Brian would make them. He hoped Michael wasn't worrying about him; if Justin knew where he was he'd tell the others too.
When Cody walked away Brian quickly scribbled, 'PPS: Don't be a hero. Please.'
Cody returned a few minutes later with a sixpack and a pizza. He handed a beer to Brian.
"Where's the posse?" Brian asked sarcastically.
Cody shrugged. "Went clubbing. It's just you and me."
Brian didn't like the way Cody was looking at him.
"We could make out," Cody suggested.
Brian rolled his eyes. "That's the worst idea you've ever had. And yes, I'm including the kidnapping."
"Well," Cody said, clearly offended.
"Does Justin know where I am yet?" Brian asked.
Cody opened the pizza box. "Not yet. We'll let it leak tomorrow that you're with us, and by nightfall Taylor'll know. We have, like, an underground network."
***
Justin knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, so he was able to procure five handguns for Operation: Save Brian within twenty four hours. "What do I get to do?" Hunter had asked as soon as Justin informed him guns were out of the question, as Michael was really whiny and Ben was really huge. Justin had put him in charge of the walkie-talkies, so Hunter fiddled with his new toys while Justin and five others loaded the guns.
The J Crew was excited and giddy. Justin seemed to be the only one who understood this was a life or death mission.
"Our goal is to get Brian out safely," Justin said. "We don't want anyone dead. But if you have to, aim for Cody. Any questions?"
"Which one's Cody?" one of them asked.
Which is how Justin ended up instructing them to take position outside the old building, while he did the actual rescuing. However, when he stood on the lower roof of the building next door and peered through the dirty window he couldn't see anyone inside. Only an empty boxing ring like the one at Cody's previous hideout. He wondered if this was a set-up, that Cody had sent that man to give them false information, but he couldn't risk the chance that Brian was in there, suffering from one of Cody's psychopathic rages.
"HQ, this is Nightrider," he whispered into the walkie-talkie. "Charlie in the trees. Repeat, Charlie in the trees. Over."
"Dude, speak English," Hunter said.
"You're supposed to say 'over,'" Justin said. "Ugh, nevermind, I'm going in. Team, if you hear gunshots come running. Over."
"If you get shot my mom's gonna kill me," Trey moaned. "Uh, over."
Justin threw a rock through the window. He had expected it to shatter into tiny pieces like it did on tv, but there was just a large hole where the rock had gone through. Carefully, he kicked out the rest of the glass with his boot. He slid inside very, very gently, trying not to catch his coat on anything. This wasn't the rescue mission he'd wanted; he was supposed to be bursting through the window suavely. Cody would cry and Brian would think he was hot and want to fuck him.
He dropped to the floor. When he had regained his balance he found Brian sitting on a mountain of pillows, flipping through what looked like Vogue.
Brian closed the magazine angrily. "Did you just crawl through the window? What the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
Justin blinked. "Um, rescuing you?"
Brian looked like he was about to say something vitriolic, but then he stopped and glanced at Justin from head to toe. "Wow, Fonzie, is your hog parked out back?"
"This is my uniform," Justin said.
"Well, I see you didn't listen to me," Brian sneered. "As usual."
Justin snapped, "What the fuck? You're being held hostage. What was I supposed to do?"
"Uh, how about leaving town before your psycho ex-friends kill you?"
"What?"
Static erupted from the walkie-talkie. "Jus-- I mean, Nightrider, can you wait until you're safe before fighting?"
"Is that Hunter?" Brian demanded. "If Cody doesn't kill you Michael sure as hell will for getting his little hustler involved."
One of the doors on the side slammed open, and out walked Cody, eating what looked like a burrito. He had another one in his hand. When he saw Justin he froze.
"How did you find us?" Cody demanded.
Justin snorted. "It's right next door to your headquarters. Duh. Oh, and one of your men ratted on you."
"I knew it," Cody seethed. "I'll blow off their kneecaps!"
"Not to break up the reunion, but since Justin has the advantage here, G, I think he and I will be going now," Brian said.
"What advantage?" Cody challenged. "It's just us three."
Justin pulled out his pistol and aimed at Cody's face. "This one."
"Justin!" Brian snapped. He gazed at the gun worriedly.
Cody rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you won't shoot me. You wouldn't even use it on fucking Chris Ho--"
Justin let off a warning shot over Cody's head.
"The one day I don't take Betty with me to the toilet," Cody muttered, raising his hands. He dropped the burritos to the floor.
"You know," Brian said to Cody, "only serial killers name their guns."
"I'm a defender of the people," Cody insisted.
Justin yelled, "HELLO! Guy with gun! Brian and I will be going now."
Brian scoffed. He looked at Justin like he had grown a second head. "I'm not going with you when you're carrying that. You-- you're very disturbed, Justin. I'm almost starting to wonder if your Mom had the right idea when she wanted you to go to therapy."
"My mom wanted me to go to therapy?" Justin asked.
Cody stepped closer to Brian. Justin followed his movements with the gun. Cody said gently, "Brian and I will leave together. You can have Pittsburgh."
Justin snapped, "Brian isn't going anywhere with you."
"He doesn't want to leave."
"For once I would like a teenage psycho to not fall in love with me," Brian said. "Three is sort of pushing it."
"Shut up," both Cody and Justin shouted at him.
"Brian is coming with me," Justin said.
"Let's see what he wants to do," Cody sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I hate you," Brian told Cody. Cody's face fell.
"Ha!" said Justin. "Brian, let's go."
He and Brian stared at each other. Justin smiled expectantly.
"I... love you?" he added.
"It's not that I don't," Brian finally managed, "it's that you're dressed like someone from Grease. It's like I don't know you anymore."
"Patrick Swayze," Justin said simply.
Brian scowled. "I choose Cody."
Cody whooped. "See, Taylor, you're just like every other weak, useless queer who can't stand up for himself. Your fucking boyfriend can't even stand to be around you. No wonder--"
"Shut the fuck up," Brian snarled.
"No wonder Hobbes went after you. He probably knew you'd never be able to get him back."
Justin aimed the gun at Cody's temple.
"Fuck," Cody whispered, going still.
"I'm going to kill you now," Justin said.
"Justin, put the fucking gun down," Brian shouted.
"Why?" Justin yelled. "So he can go back to patrolling the streets? He'll just keep pushing people around until someone stops him. That's what this whole thing is about, isn't it? Getting to them before they can get to you."
He was tired of people thinking he was just some weak little fag. It seemed like he had just been getting over feeling like that when Darren had been bashed, and he had realised how chickenshit he'd been for letting Hobbes get away scott free. Cody was no better than the queer-bashing heteros; he loved violence for the sake of violence. He didn't realise there was more to keeping people safe than beating the shit out of random people.
"Killing Pink boy over here isn't going to make you feel better," Brian said calmly.
He laughed bitterly. "How do you know? Have you ever shot someone?"
"Because he's not the person you're mad at," Brian said slowly.
"He sort of kidnapped you," Justin said. "So yeah, I'm pretty pissed off at him specifically right now."
A bead of sweat slid down Cody's temple. Cody said to Justin, "Okay, man, I really wasn't going to hurt him. Much."
"That's really reassuring," Justin said dryly.
"You took my men, so I took your boyfriend," Cody went on. "I think we're pretty even now. So I'll just go and--"
"I think you should shut up before he kills you," Brian growled.
Cody snapped his jaw together with an audible clink. Justin took a step closer, the gun steady in his hand.
"Justin--" Brian began.
"Shut up," Justin snapped.
"Fine," Brian said. "If you're going to kill him, then kill him."
"What?" Cody squealed.
"Just don't bullshit yourself into thinking this is some noble act, 'cause it's not."
Justin faltered. "I'm not a coward," he said weakly.
Brian tentatively took a step closer, like he thought Justin wouldn't notice. "No, you're not. You're the bravest person I've ever met."
He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't felt helpless -- he'd even let Hobbes walk away from him a third time, that night when Cody had handed him a gun and told him to take revenge. Hobbes had taken so much from him. He wasn't going to let anyone do that ever again. Justin backed away from Cody and Brian, still holding the gun at the same angle.
"I wasn't brave when some asshole beat my head in with a bat. I wasn't brave when he told me to get AIDS and die. Fucking Chris Hobbes-- I felt like he was right, that I was just a stupid faggot. I can barely draw. I still have nightmares. I almost lost you. Some days when I walk down the street I start to panic, like there is something bad about to happen. It's pathetic. I don't want to be pathetic anymore, Brian."
Above the blood rushing in his ears he could hear his own voice, loud and trembling. Brian had the same look on his face from the time Justin had tried to open up to him after the bashing. Back then all he had read was fear and pain, but now he saw understanding.
"Okay," Brian said nodding.
"What?" Cody screeched. "No 'okay'! How is that okay?! He's gonna fucking murder me!" He looked at Justin wildly. "I'm not Chris Hobbes, Taylor. I didn't hit you in the head. I was trying to help you -- I thought you were someone like me."
Justin stared at him. Then, slowly, he lowered the gun.
"Get out of here," he said. Cody seemed shocked; out of the corner of his eyes, Justin saw Brian's shoulders sag with relief. "If you come near me or Brian or any of my friends again I'll kill you."
Cody nodded. He took a few steps back, then made a 'call me' gesture at Brian. When Brian growled he took off running.
Hunter's voice exploded from the walkie-talkie. "Wow," he cried, his voice bouncing off the empty gym walls. "That was fucking awesome!"
Justin switched it off quickly. He didn't know what to do now. Somehow nearly killing Cody hadn't been in the original plan. Not to mention in it Brian had been relieved Justin had come to the rescue, but that had been shot as soon as he'd walked through the door. He felt sick to his stomach.
Casually, Brian removed his linen shirt and jacket from a hook on the wall. He wasn't looking at Justin.
Justin swallowed nervously. "Brian, are you..." He searched for the right word. "Disappointed in me?"
"Disappointed you didn't kill Cody?" Brian asked dryly.
Disappointed he had fallen into Cody's madness.
Brian smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit jacket, biting his lip. "You were-- I'm--" He shook his head. "I'm glad you were able to do what you had to. Even if it was stupid. Next time you queen out can you make friends who are into nice, safe things, like basket-weaving?"
"Brian," Justin whispered. He cleared his throat. "Why did we break up?"
"You brought a gun home and started terrorising the neighbourhood."
"Oh, that," Justin said flippantly. "I'm over it. Vigilante groups are so passe."
The walkie-talkie crackled again. "Dude, I'm standing here in your secret lair holding a Colt .45. If you're going to lie to your BF at least tell a convincing story."
This time Justin made sure he turned it off. They stared at each other.
"Is this the part where we break out into song?" Brian asked.
Justin smiled. Brian smiled.
"I told you I knew what I was doing," Justin said, closing the gap between them.
"Yeah," said Brian, "you did."
Justin took Brian's face in his hands and kissed him.
***
Within a few days both the J Crew and the Pink Posse were disbanded; Justin later said none of his lackeys had really put up much of a fuss. Brian had personally taken Justin's leather jacket to a thrift shop, although he couldn't get Hunter to give up his. (Somehow Justin managed to convince Michael and Ben he and Hunter had just been playing a war game.)
Brian's and Justin's non-relationshipy relationship picked up pretty much where it left off. Even though Justin was somewhat jittery -- as if he was trying to keep himself calm -- and Brian had sworn next time Justin made friends he was doing a complete background check.
A week later, checking his mail after work, Brian found a dead cat in a box addressed to him. 'I would die 4 u,' was spray-painted in white on the cat's side.
"Ugh," Brian muttered. He closed the box.
"Something smells good," Justin called from the couch. "Is that dinner?"
"I'll be right back," Brian said.
Leaving the loft, he crossed the street, making sure to dump the box with the cat in the dumpster. He stopped before a large tree. Walking around the trunk, he bumped into Cody, dressed in a long black trench coat.
"You should know," Brian said, "I can see you from my window."
Cody choked, nearly spitting out his cigarette. "I wasn't doing anything," he sneered. "Just passing by. Is it illegal to stop and have a smoke?"
"It is when you've been doing it every night for the past week," Brian replied. "Did you forget Justin said he'd kill you?"
Frowning, Cody stabbed his cigarette out on the tree. "God, here I am, minding my own business, and you have to start threatening me."
Brian took a step foward. Cody leapt back. "Look," Brian said, "fuck off. Stop sending me shit. I don't think of you that way. In fact, I don't think of you at all."
"Lies," Cody gasped.
Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Justin's--."
"I could break his kneecaps for you. For us."
"No," Brian replied, putting up his hands. "No. Psychopaths don't turn me on, okay?" Cody just looked at him. "Justin's getting better. He hasn't had a rage blackout in three days. He's done with the J Crew."
Cody looked crushed. Brian felt almost bad.
"One day you'll find a nice, gun-totting lunatic," Brian told him. "And you'll have a good time running from the law. But me and you isn't happening. Ever."
He watched Cody skulk off. By now he could probably write a book on how to reject interested teenagers. Nearly four years ago he had stood in front of his building and told Justin he didn't believe in love; it was sort of funny how change had crept up on them. And back then he had thought Justin was crazy...
Brian went back to the loft. When he got inside Justin was holding a piece of paper and frowning.
"What?" Brian asked.
"Why did I get a letter from you saying you're going to die in three days if I don't leave town?"
He tried to lean across the bar to grab it, but Justin held the letter away from him. "Forget it," Brian said. "Cody made me write it when I was his hostage."
"Fucker! I'll kill him!" Justin paused, looking down at the counter. "I mean, if I ever see Cody again we will have words."
"Tomorrow," Brian said, tearing up the letter, "I'm buying you a stress ball."
***
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Cowlip Productions and the Showtime Network. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Huge thank you's to erinface, juteux, rachelanton73, and thewhiteprophet for their suggestions, comments, beta readings, and plottings. Without them this story would never have been finished.
***
No one suffered the way Brian did. First the incompetent Pink Posse couldn't find any guava juice, and then someone gave him an issue of last month's GQ. The gym smelled like piss. It was so hot he had to remove his coat and shirt, leaving him in just a tank top and his black trousers, and he kept feeling Cody's eyes on him.
He was leisurely studying the new Fall line when Cody threw a pen and a notebook down at Brian's feet. Brian raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"
"You're going to write Taylor a letter telling him if he doesn't leave town in three days you're going to die," Cody said simply.
"Now why would I do that?" Brian asked.
"Because I will shoot you in the head," Cody replied.
Brian really couldn't argue with that. Sighing, he turned to a blank page of paper. There was no way in hell Justin would keep away because Cody wanted him too. If anything it would make Justin do the opposite. 'Justin,' he wrote, 'get the fuck out of the Pitts or our next family dinner will be at a funeral home. Brian. PS: I told you you'd get in trouble.'
Cody squinted. "What's that?"
"My letter," Brian said.
"This might be the last time you ever talk to him." Cody obviously hadn't considered telephones or email. "He's your boyfriend. Aren't you going to tell him you love him?"
"We don't talk to each other like that," Brian said. He frowned. "Not... directly, anyway. And we're not boyfriends."
"He said you were." When Brian snorted Cody asked, "Oh yeah? Then what do you call it?"
"Partners."
Cody laughed. "That sounds more serious than 'boyfriends.'"
"It's none of your fucking business, alright?" Brian snapped. He wasn't going to talk to some teenage lunatic about his thing with Justin. It wasn't like they were going to die; Justin would realise the gang thing was ridiculous, and he and Cody would reach a nice agreement that didn't involve weapons, and everyone would go home happy. Or else Brian would make them. He hoped Michael wasn't worrying about him; if Justin knew where he was he'd tell the others too.
When Cody walked away Brian quickly scribbled, 'PPS: Don't be a hero. Please.'
Cody returned a few minutes later with a sixpack and a pizza. He handed a beer to Brian.
"Where's the posse?" Brian asked sarcastically.
Cody shrugged. "Went clubbing. It's just you and me."
Brian didn't like the way Cody was looking at him.
"We could make out," Cody suggested.
Brian rolled his eyes. "That's the worst idea you've ever had. And yes, I'm including the kidnapping."
"Well," Cody said, clearly offended.
"Does Justin know where I am yet?" Brian asked.
Cody opened the pizza box. "Not yet. We'll let it leak tomorrow that you're with us, and by nightfall Taylor'll know. We have, like, an underground network."
***
Justin knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, so he was able to procure five handguns for Operation: Save Brian within twenty four hours. "What do I get to do?" Hunter had asked as soon as Justin informed him guns were out of the question, as Michael was really whiny and Ben was really huge. Justin had put him in charge of the walkie-talkies, so Hunter fiddled with his new toys while Justin and five others loaded the guns.
The J Crew was excited and giddy. Justin seemed to be the only one who understood this was a life or death mission.
"Our goal is to get Brian out safely," Justin said. "We don't want anyone dead. But if you have to, aim for Cody. Any questions?"
"Which one's Cody?" one of them asked.
Which is how Justin ended up instructing them to take position outside the old building, while he did the actual rescuing. However, when he stood on the lower roof of the building next door and peered through the dirty window he couldn't see anyone inside. Only an empty boxing ring like the one at Cody's previous hideout. He wondered if this was a set-up, that Cody had sent that man to give them false information, but he couldn't risk the chance that Brian was in there, suffering from one of Cody's psychopathic rages.
"HQ, this is Nightrider," he whispered into the walkie-talkie. "Charlie in the trees. Repeat, Charlie in the trees. Over."
"Dude, speak English," Hunter said.
"You're supposed to say 'over,'" Justin said. "Ugh, nevermind, I'm going in. Team, if you hear gunshots come running. Over."
"If you get shot my mom's gonna kill me," Trey moaned. "Uh, over."
Justin threw a rock through the window. He had expected it to shatter into tiny pieces like it did on tv, but there was just a large hole where the rock had gone through. Carefully, he kicked out the rest of the glass with his boot. He slid inside very, very gently, trying not to catch his coat on anything. This wasn't the rescue mission he'd wanted; he was supposed to be bursting through the window suavely. Cody would cry and Brian would think he was hot and want to fuck him.
He dropped to the floor. When he had regained his balance he found Brian sitting on a mountain of pillows, flipping through what looked like Vogue.
Brian closed the magazine angrily. "Did you just crawl through the window? What the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
Justin blinked. "Um, rescuing you?"
Brian looked like he was about to say something vitriolic, but then he stopped and glanced at Justin from head to toe. "Wow, Fonzie, is your hog parked out back?"
"This is my uniform," Justin said.
"Well, I see you didn't listen to me," Brian sneered. "As usual."
Justin snapped, "What the fuck? You're being held hostage. What was I supposed to do?"
"Uh, how about leaving town before your psycho ex-friends kill you?"
"What?"
Static erupted from the walkie-talkie. "Jus-- I mean, Nightrider, can you wait until you're safe before fighting?"
"Is that Hunter?" Brian demanded. "If Cody doesn't kill you Michael sure as hell will for getting his little hustler involved."
One of the doors on the side slammed open, and out walked Cody, eating what looked like a burrito. He had another one in his hand. When he saw Justin he froze.
"How did you find us?" Cody demanded.
Justin snorted. "It's right next door to your headquarters. Duh. Oh, and one of your men ratted on you."
"I knew it," Cody seethed. "I'll blow off their kneecaps!"
"Not to break up the reunion, but since Justin has the advantage here, G, I think he and I will be going now," Brian said.
"What advantage?" Cody challenged. "It's just us three."
Justin pulled out his pistol and aimed at Cody's face. "This one."
"Justin!" Brian snapped. He gazed at the gun worriedly.
Cody rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you won't shoot me. You wouldn't even use it on fucking Chris Ho--"
Justin let off a warning shot over Cody's head.
"The one day I don't take Betty with me to the toilet," Cody muttered, raising his hands. He dropped the burritos to the floor.
"You know," Brian said to Cody, "only serial killers name their guns."
"I'm a defender of the people," Cody insisted.
Justin yelled, "HELLO! Guy with gun! Brian and I will be going now."
Brian scoffed. He looked at Justin like he had grown a second head. "I'm not going with you when you're carrying that. You-- you're very disturbed, Justin. I'm almost starting to wonder if your Mom had the right idea when she wanted you to go to therapy."
"My mom wanted me to go to therapy?" Justin asked.
Cody stepped closer to Brian. Justin followed his movements with the gun. Cody said gently, "Brian and I will leave together. You can have Pittsburgh."
Justin snapped, "Brian isn't going anywhere with you."
"He doesn't want to leave."
"For once I would like a teenage psycho to not fall in love with me," Brian said. "Three is sort of pushing it."
"Shut up," both Cody and Justin shouted at him.
"Brian is coming with me," Justin said.
"Let's see what he wants to do," Cody sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I hate you," Brian told Cody. Cody's face fell.
"Ha!" said Justin. "Brian, let's go."
He and Brian stared at each other. Justin smiled expectantly.
"I... love you?" he added.
"It's not that I don't," Brian finally managed, "it's that you're dressed like someone from Grease. It's like I don't know you anymore."
"Patrick Swayze," Justin said simply.
Brian scowled. "I choose Cody."
Cody whooped. "See, Taylor, you're just like every other weak, useless queer who can't stand up for himself. Your fucking boyfriend can't even stand to be around you. No wonder--"
"Shut the fuck up," Brian snarled.
"No wonder Hobbes went after you. He probably knew you'd never be able to get him back."
Justin aimed the gun at Cody's temple.
"Fuck," Cody whispered, going still.
"I'm going to kill you now," Justin said.
"Justin, put the fucking gun down," Brian shouted.
"Why?" Justin yelled. "So he can go back to patrolling the streets? He'll just keep pushing people around until someone stops him. That's what this whole thing is about, isn't it? Getting to them before they can get to you."
He was tired of people thinking he was just some weak little fag. It seemed like he had just been getting over feeling like that when Darren had been bashed, and he had realised how chickenshit he'd been for letting Hobbes get away scott free. Cody was no better than the queer-bashing heteros; he loved violence for the sake of violence. He didn't realise there was more to keeping people safe than beating the shit out of random people.
"Killing Pink boy over here isn't going to make you feel better," Brian said calmly.
He laughed bitterly. "How do you know? Have you ever shot someone?"
"Because he's not the person you're mad at," Brian said slowly.
"He sort of kidnapped you," Justin said. "So yeah, I'm pretty pissed off at him specifically right now."
A bead of sweat slid down Cody's temple. Cody said to Justin, "Okay, man, I really wasn't going to hurt him. Much."
"That's really reassuring," Justin said dryly.
"You took my men, so I took your boyfriend," Cody went on. "I think we're pretty even now. So I'll just go and--"
"I think you should shut up before he kills you," Brian growled.
Cody snapped his jaw together with an audible clink. Justin took a step closer, the gun steady in his hand.
"Justin--" Brian began.
"Shut up," Justin snapped.
"Fine," Brian said. "If you're going to kill him, then kill him."
"What?" Cody squealed.
"Just don't bullshit yourself into thinking this is some noble act, 'cause it's not."
Justin faltered. "I'm not a coward," he said weakly.
Brian tentatively took a step closer, like he thought Justin wouldn't notice. "No, you're not. You're the bravest person I've ever met."
He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't felt helpless -- he'd even let Hobbes walk away from him a third time, that night when Cody had handed him a gun and told him to take revenge. Hobbes had taken so much from him. He wasn't going to let anyone do that ever again. Justin backed away from Cody and Brian, still holding the gun at the same angle.
"I wasn't brave when some asshole beat my head in with a bat. I wasn't brave when he told me to get AIDS and die. Fucking Chris Hobbes-- I felt like he was right, that I was just a stupid faggot. I can barely draw. I still have nightmares. I almost lost you. Some days when I walk down the street I start to panic, like there is something bad about to happen. It's pathetic. I don't want to be pathetic anymore, Brian."
Above the blood rushing in his ears he could hear his own voice, loud and trembling. Brian had the same look on his face from the time Justin had tried to open up to him after the bashing. Back then all he had read was fear and pain, but now he saw understanding.
"Okay," Brian said nodding.
"What?" Cody screeched. "No 'okay'! How is that okay?! He's gonna fucking murder me!" He looked at Justin wildly. "I'm not Chris Hobbes, Taylor. I didn't hit you in the head. I was trying to help you -- I thought you were someone like me."
Justin stared at him. Then, slowly, he lowered the gun.
"Get out of here," he said. Cody seemed shocked; out of the corner of his eyes, Justin saw Brian's shoulders sag with relief. "If you come near me or Brian or any of my friends again I'll kill you."
Cody nodded. He took a few steps back, then made a 'call me' gesture at Brian. When Brian growled he took off running.
Hunter's voice exploded from the walkie-talkie. "Wow," he cried, his voice bouncing off the empty gym walls. "That was fucking awesome!"
Justin switched it off quickly. He didn't know what to do now. Somehow nearly killing Cody hadn't been in the original plan. Not to mention in it Brian had been relieved Justin had come to the rescue, but that had been shot as soon as he'd walked through the door. He felt sick to his stomach.
Casually, Brian removed his linen shirt and jacket from a hook on the wall. He wasn't looking at Justin.
Justin swallowed nervously. "Brian, are you..." He searched for the right word. "Disappointed in me?"
"Disappointed you didn't kill Cody?" Brian asked dryly.
Disappointed he had fallen into Cody's madness.
Brian smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit jacket, biting his lip. "You were-- I'm--" He shook his head. "I'm glad you were able to do what you had to. Even if it was stupid. Next time you queen out can you make friends who are into nice, safe things, like basket-weaving?"
"Brian," Justin whispered. He cleared his throat. "Why did we break up?"
"You brought a gun home and started terrorising the neighbourhood."
"Oh, that," Justin said flippantly. "I'm over it. Vigilante groups are so passe."
The walkie-talkie crackled again. "Dude, I'm standing here in your secret lair holding a Colt .45. If you're going to lie to your BF at least tell a convincing story."
This time Justin made sure he turned it off. They stared at each other.
"Is this the part where we break out into song?" Brian asked.
Justin smiled. Brian smiled.
"I told you I knew what I was doing," Justin said, closing the gap between them.
"Yeah," said Brian, "you did."
Justin took Brian's face in his hands and kissed him.
***
Within a few days both the J Crew and the Pink Posse were disbanded; Justin later said none of his lackeys had really put up much of a fuss. Brian had personally taken Justin's leather jacket to a thrift shop, although he couldn't get Hunter to give up his. (Somehow Justin managed to convince Michael and Ben he and Hunter had just been playing a war game.)
Brian's and Justin's non-relationshipy relationship picked up pretty much where it left off. Even though Justin was somewhat jittery -- as if he was trying to keep himself calm -- and Brian had sworn next time Justin made friends he was doing a complete background check.
A week later, checking his mail after work, Brian found a dead cat in a box addressed to him. 'I would die 4 u,' was spray-painted in white on the cat's side.
"Ugh," Brian muttered. He closed the box.
"Something smells good," Justin called from the couch. "Is that dinner?"
"I'll be right back," Brian said.
Leaving the loft, he crossed the street, making sure to dump the box with the cat in the dumpster. He stopped before a large tree. Walking around the trunk, he bumped into Cody, dressed in a long black trench coat.
"You should know," Brian said, "I can see you from my window."
Cody choked, nearly spitting out his cigarette. "I wasn't doing anything," he sneered. "Just passing by. Is it illegal to stop and have a smoke?"
"It is when you've been doing it every night for the past week," Brian replied. "Did you forget Justin said he'd kill you?"
Frowning, Cody stabbed his cigarette out on the tree. "God, here I am, minding my own business, and you have to start threatening me."
Brian took a step foward. Cody leapt back. "Look," Brian said, "fuck off. Stop sending me shit. I don't think of you that way. In fact, I don't think of you at all."
"Lies," Cody gasped.
Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Justin's--."
"I could break his kneecaps for you. For us."
"No," Brian replied, putting up his hands. "No. Psychopaths don't turn me on, okay?" Cody just looked at him. "Justin's getting better. He hasn't had a rage blackout in three days. He's done with the J Crew."
Cody looked crushed. Brian felt almost bad.
"One day you'll find a nice, gun-totting lunatic," Brian told him. "And you'll have a good time running from the law. But me and you isn't happening. Ever."
He watched Cody skulk off. By now he could probably write a book on how to reject interested teenagers. Nearly four years ago he had stood in front of his building and told Justin he didn't believe in love; it was sort of funny how change had crept up on them. And back then he had thought Justin was crazy...
Brian went back to the loft. When he got inside Justin was holding a piece of paper and frowning.
"What?" Brian asked.
"Why did I get a letter from you saying you're going to die in three days if I don't leave town?"
He tried to lean across the bar to grab it, but Justin held the letter away from him. "Forget it," Brian said. "Cody made me write it when I was his hostage."
"Fucker! I'll kill him!" Justin paused, looking down at the counter. "I mean, if I ever see Cody again we will have words."
"Tomorrow," Brian said, tearing up the letter, "I'm buying you a stress ball."
***
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Cowlip Productions and the Showtime Network. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Huge thank you's to erinface, juteux, rachelanton73, and thewhiteprophet for their suggestions, comments, beta readings, and plottings. Without them this story would never have been finished.