Michanical Michelangelo part 36
THIRTY SIX Chinese Whispers
Justin lay in bed, Cameron sitting cross legged on the end. It was almost like old times. It could be them in their apartment after they’d first moved in, still needing the comfort of each other’s presence to get them through the night.
It could be all of those things, except for the led weight of his right arm and the pounding that drummed a constant beat deep down into his brain.
He tried to move his fingers, in his mind they were curling into a fist, his fingernails were digging into his palm making little half moons, but in reality his hand did little more than twitch. He kept his sight locked firmly on Cam, if he looked down he would know how bad it was, he would know that the arm that used to create art was useless.
Unfortunately there was something to take his mind off his useless arm and excruciating headache. He winced, the white walls suddenly seeming too bright. He wished he could slip back into oblivion; he didn’t want to see the look in Brian’s eyes now he knew he’d sold his ass on the streets of New York.
“I don’t think he’ll judge you.”
Justin licked his cracked lips. “I didn’t want him to find out like that. I didn’t want him to find out at all.”
“You think he wouldn’t have found out eventually? A little digging and he’d know all about the hustler that made it big. It’s a story all the hustlers love to tell, it gives them hope of a better future, it’s not something you could hide forever.”
“What did my mother say?”
Cameron shrugged. “You know Jen, she’s in the land of denial. She’s waiting for us all to burst out laughing and say ‘fooled you!’”
Justin groaned, glad he’d been drugged to the hills when his mother had visited with him. He hadn’t been in any state to care what she thought of him then, now was an entirely different story though.
“How am I going to explain it to them?” He went to run his hand over his eyes, his heart pounding when his arm fell uselessly into his lap, before remembering where he was and why.
“You don’t need to explain fuck to them.”
“I sold my ass to strangers for money.”
“You sold your ass to strangers to survive, there’s a difference.”
Justin concentrated on the familiar feel of Cameron sitting opposite him, he thought about Brian, his mother, and the whole Pittsburgh clan because it was the safer. If he thought about the other thing, the person who put him here, he might start screaming and never stop.
“Where is Brian? I haven’t seen him since I woke up.” Maybe it would have been easier if he’d seen Brian before Cam, before his friend could fill him in on what was happening and he had less time to feel guilty about it.
“He was with you when you woke up.”
Justin’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known that. He was sure his mom hadn’t mentioned that to him when he’d seen her.
“Apparently you uttered the word ‘Cam’ and he hasn’t been able to think straight since.” Cam chuckled a little. “You should worry more about the green eyed monster in Brian, than what he’ll think of you for hustling. He seems to think there’s more to us than just friendship, no matter what I say.” His eyes grew serious again. He didn’t want to come between Justin and Brian. “When you explain things to Brian, you can tell him everything, you know, about me.”
Justin wanted to reach across and take his hand, but his balance was off and he was afraid it would interrupt their conversation. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can. He might feel less threatened by me then. I don’t want to lose our friendship, and I don’t want you to lose Brian because you couldn’t put his mind at rest about us.”
There was a slight tap on the door, and both men turned around, smiling when they saw Bren. “How are you feeling?” He asked, walking into the room, folding his large frame into the chair next to the bed.
“I feel like we’ve been here before.” Justin’s smile wobbled slightly as they remembered back to when Bren had first found him and hauled his ass to hospital, paying for his medical bills and giving him a chance. “I don’t think you can fix me this time, boss.” Tears suddenly filled his eyes and he let them flow down his cheeks.
Seeing Bren’s familiar, compassionate face had broken down his barriers, and all the uncertainty that had he’d pushed deep into his soul spilled forth upon seeing him. “I don’t think I’ll be tattooing anytime soon.” And upon uttering the words the panic set in. His lungs closed down, his heart started to beat faster and faster, his airways clogged and he couldn’t drag air into his lungs.
He was going to die, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. It would have been better if the bat had killed him outright, with his arm the way it was he was worse off than dead, he was the walking dead. If he couldn’t tattoo, couldn’t paint, draw or create art, what could he do?
They said physiotherapy would help, but no one knew to what degree. He needed a steady hand, it was more than art, it was his livelihood and he didn’t know what else he could do.
Justin watched as Brian stood next to the window, he saw how his fingers clenched and unclenched unconsciously needing to hold a cigarette.
His eyes had looked haunted as he’d entered the tiny hospital room and Justin wanted to cry all over again, but this time for Brian. “I don’t remember it.” Justin said, biting his lip. “I’ve heard second hand what happened, but Daphne wasn’t there. Tell me what happened.”
Brian turned around, hazel eyes glistening he closed them and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t.” Justin edged off the bed slightly, walking over to the older man on unsteady legs.
He went to comfort Brian, but was stopped by a force he didn’t recognise, a chill down his spine, fear in his gut and his head screaming at him not to touch him, not to touch anyone again.
He might not remember what happened to him, but his body did, and that was the worst thing of all, to feel fear of people you love, not knowing why. People had told him what happened, and he understood why he’d be wary of contact, but he didn’t remember it himself, so it shouldn’t apply.
He pushed his left arm out until it made contact with Brian, the sickness rolled in his stomach as he felt soft cotton under his bare fingertips. It was only then he realised his leather gloves were nowhere to be seen.
Brian opened his eyes and looked down at him, some of the fear clenching in Justin’s belly lifted and he let out a deep breath. “Don’t be afraid of me.” Brian whispered, gently putting an arm around Justin’s waist.
“I don’t want to be,” he leaned his cheek against Brian’s chest, “I need to know why I’m feeling like I do. Part of me never wants to remember that night, but another part of me wants to remember every detail. I want to remember you walking in, I want to remember our dance and I want to remember what happened to make me so afraid of physical contact, even yours.”
“I shouldn’t have gone…you told me not to. But I did anyway, and we danced, we showed the fuckers that made your life a misery at school that you were better than them. Then Chris Hobbs,” Justin shuddered at the mention of his name, “showed us that a mere dance doesn’t change anything.”
Justin looked up, his face pale, worried that Chris’s actions would cause Brian to step back from their relationship. “It meant everything.” It was Brian’s way of showing him without words that whatever they had was more than a casual fuck.
“I went to get the car, you waited for me outside the hotel, but I was too far away and I couldn’t stop the bat as he swung it.” Justin reached up tentatively, touching Brian’s cheek, feeling the stubble brush his palm.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe, we should forget about-whatever the fuck it is we’re doing and you should be with Cam-“
Justin pulled himself out of Brian’s arms, stumbling slightly, his right arm swinging uselessly to the side. Brian reached out and steadied him, helping him sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Cam is a friend.”
“You’re closer than brothers, I heard.” Brian went back to the window.
“You have to be closer than brothers when you hustle on the streets.” He said it softly, for the first time admitting what he’d done when he first arrived in New York.
“Jesus, Jus, why didn’t you come home?”
Justin shook his head sadly. “What home? And don’t say the loft, you didn’t want me there, and I know it would never have worked in the long run. I was too young. I wanted to come home, so desperately. I phoned my mom. Dad answered and told me to stay away. That night I put my sketch books in the bin and had sex for cash.” He didn’t tell Brian about the first time, couldn’t. “I didn’t have a home Brian. And Cam, he just showed me the ropes. So we fucked a few times. It was always for a trick, always for money. We are just friends.”
“Sure.”
“Fuck, can’t you just take my word for it? Do you want to know the first time Cameron had sex?” He demanded, Brian looked over but didn’t say anything. “When he was six years old. When was the first time money exchanged hands, when he was eight, but he didn’t see any of it. By the time he was fourteen he was a pro at pleasuring men and when he ran away from home it was the only skill he had. You know what his dream was when he were on the streets? Never to be touched again, not even by me. His dream finally came true. For two years he’s not fucked, he’s had no one fuck him, that’s the longest time he can remember going without sex and he’s loving it.” Justin slumped against the bed after his rant, still feeling a little guilty for revealing all of Cameron’s secrets, even when he said it would be OK.
“What about your feelings for him?”
Justin sighed, irritated. “I don’t have sexual feelings for him because I never got over my feelings for you, is that what you want to hear? Sorry, but for the longest time I didn’t want to be touched either, and I’m not going to deny how close we are, but I’m not in love with him.
I don’t know what I feel for anyone right now. I’m panicking because I’ve never been scared of you, not even that first night, afraid yes, but not scared, and right now I don’t know if I can let anyone get close, not even you.
I’m terrified, Bri, terrified of these emotions, and I’m terrified I’ll never be able to tattoo again. What do I do if I can’t do that? I can’t go back, I can’t.” This must be the longest conversation they’d ever had, but Justin felt no victory in it, he just felt so incredibly tired.
Brian pushed himself away from the window and sat next to Justin, he hesitated in touching the younger man after what he’d just revealed, but found his hand threading with Justin’s anyway.
Justin lay in bed, Cameron sitting cross legged on the end. It was almost like old times. It could be them in their apartment after they’d first moved in, still needing the comfort of each other’s presence to get them through the night.
It could be all of those things, except for the led weight of his right arm and the pounding that drummed a constant beat deep down into his brain.
He tried to move his fingers, in his mind they were curling into a fist, his fingernails were digging into his palm making little half moons, but in reality his hand did little more than twitch. He kept his sight locked firmly on Cam, if he looked down he would know how bad it was, he would know that the arm that used to create art was useless.
Unfortunately there was something to take his mind off his useless arm and excruciating headache. He winced, the white walls suddenly seeming too bright. He wished he could slip back into oblivion; he didn’t want to see the look in Brian’s eyes now he knew he’d sold his ass on the streets of New York.
“I don’t think he’ll judge you.”
Justin licked his cracked lips. “I didn’t want him to find out like that. I didn’t want him to find out at all.”
“You think he wouldn’t have found out eventually? A little digging and he’d know all about the hustler that made it big. It’s a story all the hustlers love to tell, it gives them hope of a better future, it’s not something you could hide forever.”
“What did my mother say?”
Cameron shrugged. “You know Jen, she’s in the land of denial. She’s waiting for us all to burst out laughing and say ‘fooled you!’”
Justin groaned, glad he’d been drugged to the hills when his mother had visited with him. He hadn’t been in any state to care what she thought of him then, now was an entirely different story though.
“How am I going to explain it to them?” He went to run his hand over his eyes, his heart pounding when his arm fell uselessly into his lap, before remembering where he was and why.
“You don’t need to explain fuck to them.”
“I sold my ass to strangers for money.”
“You sold your ass to strangers to survive, there’s a difference.”
Justin concentrated on the familiar feel of Cameron sitting opposite him, he thought about Brian, his mother, and the whole Pittsburgh clan because it was the safer. If he thought about the other thing, the person who put him here, he might start screaming and never stop.
“Where is Brian? I haven’t seen him since I woke up.” Maybe it would have been easier if he’d seen Brian before Cam, before his friend could fill him in on what was happening and he had less time to feel guilty about it.
“He was with you when you woke up.”
Justin’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known that. He was sure his mom hadn’t mentioned that to him when he’d seen her.
“Apparently you uttered the word ‘Cam’ and he hasn’t been able to think straight since.” Cam chuckled a little. “You should worry more about the green eyed monster in Brian, than what he’ll think of you for hustling. He seems to think there’s more to us than just friendship, no matter what I say.” His eyes grew serious again. He didn’t want to come between Justin and Brian. “When you explain things to Brian, you can tell him everything, you know, about me.”
Justin wanted to reach across and take his hand, but his balance was off and he was afraid it would interrupt their conversation. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can. He might feel less threatened by me then. I don’t want to lose our friendship, and I don’t want you to lose Brian because you couldn’t put his mind at rest about us.”
There was a slight tap on the door, and both men turned around, smiling when they saw Bren. “How are you feeling?” He asked, walking into the room, folding his large frame into the chair next to the bed.
“I feel like we’ve been here before.” Justin’s smile wobbled slightly as they remembered back to when Bren had first found him and hauled his ass to hospital, paying for his medical bills and giving him a chance. “I don’t think you can fix me this time, boss.” Tears suddenly filled his eyes and he let them flow down his cheeks.
Seeing Bren’s familiar, compassionate face had broken down his barriers, and all the uncertainty that had he’d pushed deep into his soul spilled forth upon seeing him. “I don’t think I’ll be tattooing anytime soon.” And upon uttering the words the panic set in. His lungs closed down, his heart started to beat faster and faster, his airways clogged and he couldn’t drag air into his lungs.
He was going to die, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. It would have been better if the bat had killed him outright, with his arm the way it was he was worse off than dead, he was the walking dead. If he couldn’t tattoo, couldn’t paint, draw or create art, what could he do?
They said physiotherapy would help, but no one knew to what degree. He needed a steady hand, it was more than art, it was his livelihood and he didn’t know what else he could do.
Justin watched as Brian stood next to the window, he saw how his fingers clenched and unclenched unconsciously needing to hold a cigarette.
His eyes had looked haunted as he’d entered the tiny hospital room and Justin wanted to cry all over again, but this time for Brian. “I don’t remember it.” Justin said, biting his lip. “I’ve heard second hand what happened, but Daphne wasn’t there. Tell me what happened.”
Brian turned around, hazel eyes glistening he closed them and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t.” Justin edged off the bed slightly, walking over to the older man on unsteady legs.
He went to comfort Brian, but was stopped by a force he didn’t recognise, a chill down his spine, fear in his gut and his head screaming at him not to touch him, not to touch anyone again.
He might not remember what happened to him, but his body did, and that was the worst thing of all, to feel fear of people you love, not knowing why. People had told him what happened, and he understood why he’d be wary of contact, but he didn’t remember it himself, so it shouldn’t apply.
He pushed his left arm out until it made contact with Brian, the sickness rolled in his stomach as he felt soft cotton under his bare fingertips. It was only then he realised his leather gloves were nowhere to be seen.
Brian opened his eyes and looked down at him, some of the fear clenching in Justin’s belly lifted and he let out a deep breath. “Don’t be afraid of me.” Brian whispered, gently putting an arm around Justin’s waist.
“I don’t want to be,” he leaned his cheek against Brian’s chest, “I need to know why I’m feeling like I do. Part of me never wants to remember that night, but another part of me wants to remember every detail. I want to remember you walking in, I want to remember our dance and I want to remember what happened to make me so afraid of physical contact, even yours.”
“I shouldn’t have gone…you told me not to. But I did anyway, and we danced, we showed the fuckers that made your life a misery at school that you were better than them. Then Chris Hobbs,” Justin shuddered at the mention of his name, “showed us that a mere dance doesn’t change anything.”
Justin looked up, his face pale, worried that Chris’s actions would cause Brian to step back from their relationship. “It meant everything.” It was Brian’s way of showing him without words that whatever they had was more than a casual fuck.
“I went to get the car, you waited for me outside the hotel, but I was too far away and I couldn’t stop the bat as he swung it.” Justin reached up tentatively, touching Brian’s cheek, feeling the stubble brush his palm.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe, we should forget about-whatever the fuck it is we’re doing and you should be with Cam-“
Justin pulled himself out of Brian’s arms, stumbling slightly, his right arm swinging uselessly to the side. Brian reached out and steadied him, helping him sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Cam is a friend.”
“You’re closer than brothers, I heard.” Brian went back to the window.
“You have to be closer than brothers when you hustle on the streets.” He said it softly, for the first time admitting what he’d done when he first arrived in New York.
“Jesus, Jus, why didn’t you come home?”
Justin shook his head sadly. “What home? And don’t say the loft, you didn’t want me there, and I know it would never have worked in the long run. I was too young. I wanted to come home, so desperately. I phoned my mom. Dad answered and told me to stay away. That night I put my sketch books in the bin and had sex for cash.” He didn’t tell Brian about the first time, couldn’t. “I didn’t have a home Brian. And Cam, he just showed me the ropes. So we fucked a few times. It was always for a trick, always for money. We are just friends.”
“Sure.”
“Fuck, can’t you just take my word for it? Do you want to know the first time Cameron had sex?” He demanded, Brian looked over but didn’t say anything. “When he was six years old. When was the first time money exchanged hands, when he was eight, but he didn’t see any of it. By the time he was fourteen he was a pro at pleasuring men and when he ran away from home it was the only skill he had. You know what his dream was when he were on the streets? Never to be touched again, not even by me. His dream finally came true. For two years he’s not fucked, he’s had no one fuck him, that’s the longest time he can remember going without sex and he’s loving it.” Justin slumped against the bed after his rant, still feeling a little guilty for revealing all of Cameron’s secrets, even when he said it would be OK.
“What about your feelings for him?”
Justin sighed, irritated. “I don’t have sexual feelings for him because I never got over my feelings for you, is that what you want to hear? Sorry, but for the longest time I didn’t want to be touched either, and I’m not going to deny how close we are, but I’m not in love with him.
I don’t know what I feel for anyone right now. I’m panicking because I’ve never been scared of you, not even that first night, afraid yes, but not scared, and right now I don’t know if I can let anyone get close, not even you.
I’m terrified, Bri, terrified of these emotions, and I’m terrified I’ll never be able to tattoo again. What do I do if I can’t do that? I can’t go back, I can’t.” This must be the longest conversation they’d ever had, but Justin felt no victory in it, he just felt so incredibly tired.
Brian pushed himself away from the window and sat next to Justin, he hesitated in touching the younger man after what he’d just revealed, but found his hand threading with Justin’s anyway.