(no subject)
Nov. 19th, 2003 05:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nanowrenletJustin couldn't fucking believe it. Part of him wanted to grab Brian's shoulders and shake him awake, how dare he skip out on Justin like this when he was so obviously losing his fucking mind? Only... Brian hadn't done anything. He -hadn't-. And he didn't know and ooooh God, this was fifty different kinds of fucked up. Justin scooted away from Brian, backed up until he was sitting on the end of the bed, and he cradled his head in his hands and listened to Brian breathe and tried to figure out what the fuck just happened.
It was a little like poking at the hole a tooth leaves behind, only if you didn't know that what had been there was a tooth. Justin thought -around- the strange gap in his head; he remembered tumbling into the loft, Brian stroking him off, Justin rolling them both over and going down on him in return. He remembered Brian's hands in his hair and Brian coming like a freight train and then... nothing. Absence. The tiny break in his memory that he still couldn't explain. And really, if he said it just like that -- 'I can't remember what he sounds like' -- it seemed like the smallest fucking thing in the world. But like a tooth that gets yanked out of your head, it left an ache behind all out of proportion to its size, and Justin was biting into the pad of his thumb and fighting the urge to just curl up into a ball and cry.
Which was maybe why the pounding on the door startled him so badly that he damn near fell off the bed.
"Brian?! Fuck, Brian, you had better be in there!"
Michael. Well fuck, of -course- it was Michael; he'd know what day it was because Michael was just like that, remembering things that even Brian would sometimes forget except that he hadn't, and he'd obviously ditched Michael at some point before he'd shown up at Boytoy. Justin heard Michael curse again and jingle a set of keys, and fuck he had to get -out- of there, why hadn't he moved yet?
Justin scrambled off the bed and dashed for his clothes. He had his pants on and was pulling his sweatshirt over his head by the time Michael slid the door open and he wondered absently which of them had locked the door on the way in. Probably him. And it was probably a fucking miracle he hadn't automatically set the alarm code, too.
Michael stopped still when he saw him, and Justin gulped.
"Who're you? And where's Brian?"
"'M just leaving." Justin pulled his shirt down and ducked his head away from Michael's gaze. "He's in bed. He's okay, just passed out a couple minutes ago."
Michael's shoulders sagged, like he'd been expecting that and dreading it both, and he nodded and headed for the bedroom just as Justin started away from it, looking for his shoes. It wasn't until they were almost even with each other that Justin remembered and added, "Oh, and his Jeep's probably over by Boytoy."
"Okay, thanks." And Michael looked at him and smiled a little, because it was the polite Michael-thing to do, and when he got his first good look at Justin his face sort of softened. Justin knew what he was seeing -- another blond-haired, blue-eyed kid -- and he could see that Michael guessed -why-, and might have even apologized to this kid for it if he had known where to begin explaining. Justin looked away and searched for his shoes. Michael didn't need to be sorry; Justin was sorry enough for them both.
He had his shoes in hand and was almost out the door when Michael sat next to Brian on the bed, and Brian woke up.
"Mikey? Where'd he go?" Brian was still high as a kite and his voice had that soft, confused pitch Justin had only heard a couple of times, and because he was a fucking idiot, he stopped just outside the door of the loft and listened.
"Who, your trick? Home, I'm guessing."
"No, it wasn't a trick, it was Justin. He was just here a minute ago."
Justin held his breath. Michael was silent for so long that Justin thought maybe he was holding his, too, but when he spoke again he just sounded tired. "No, Brian. It wasn't Justin. I told you to stay the fuck away from Anita's shit."
Brian was mumbling by then, arguing probably, and if Justin peeked around the door he bet he would see Michael pushing Brian back down onto the bed and pulling a blanket up over him, but God, there were limits even to his stupidity.
Justin's heart was slamming against his ribs and he still didn't -understand-, but Rube's warning was echoing in his head: 'You are playing with fire. If you keep it up, someone's going to get burned.' He didn't know the whys or the hows, but now he knew -what-, and it was as if Brian had become a poison to him, threatening the only remnants of their time together that Justin had left.
Justin felt something that was probably terror clawing at his insides, and he ran down the stairs before his traitor mind could forget anything else.
[882/882/34566]
It was a little like poking at the hole a tooth leaves behind, only if you didn't know that what had been there was a tooth. Justin thought -around- the strange gap in his head; he remembered tumbling into the loft, Brian stroking him off, Justin rolling them both over and going down on him in return. He remembered Brian's hands in his hair and Brian coming like a freight train and then... nothing. Absence. The tiny break in his memory that he still couldn't explain. And really, if he said it just like that -- 'I can't remember what he sounds like' -- it seemed like the smallest fucking thing in the world. But like a tooth that gets yanked out of your head, it left an ache behind all out of proportion to its size, and Justin was biting into the pad of his thumb and fighting the urge to just curl up into a ball and cry.
Which was maybe why the pounding on the door startled him so badly that he damn near fell off the bed.
"Brian?! Fuck, Brian, you had better be in there!"
Michael. Well fuck, of -course- it was Michael; he'd know what day it was because Michael was just like that, remembering things that even Brian would sometimes forget except that he hadn't, and he'd obviously ditched Michael at some point before he'd shown up at Boytoy. Justin heard Michael curse again and jingle a set of keys, and fuck he had to get -out- of there, why hadn't he moved yet?
Justin scrambled off the bed and dashed for his clothes. He had his pants on and was pulling his sweatshirt over his head by the time Michael slid the door open and he wondered absently which of them had locked the door on the way in. Probably him. And it was probably a fucking miracle he hadn't automatically set the alarm code, too.
Michael stopped still when he saw him, and Justin gulped.
"Who're you? And where's Brian?"
"'M just leaving." Justin pulled his shirt down and ducked his head away from Michael's gaze. "He's in bed. He's okay, just passed out a couple minutes ago."
Michael's shoulders sagged, like he'd been expecting that and dreading it both, and he nodded and headed for the bedroom just as Justin started away from it, looking for his shoes. It wasn't until they were almost even with each other that Justin remembered and added, "Oh, and his Jeep's probably over by Boytoy."
"Okay, thanks." And Michael looked at him and smiled a little, because it was the polite Michael-thing to do, and when he got his first good look at Justin his face sort of softened. Justin knew what he was seeing -- another blond-haired, blue-eyed kid -- and he could see that Michael guessed -why-, and might have even apologized to this kid for it if he had known where to begin explaining. Justin looked away and searched for his shoes. Michael didn't need to be sorry; Justin was sorry enough for them both.
He had his shoes in hand and was almost out the door when Michael sat next to Brian on the bed, and Brian woke up.
"Mikey? Where'd he go?" Brian was still high as a kite and his voice had that soft, confused pitch Justin had only heard a couple of times, and because he was a fucking idiot, he stopped just outside the door of the loft and listened.
"Who, your trick? Home, I'm guessing."
"No, it wasn't a trick, it was Justin. He was just here a minute ago."
Justin held his breath. Michael was silent for so long that Justin thought maybe he was holding his, too, but when he spoke again he just sounded tired. "No, Brian. It wasn't Justin. I told you to stay the fuck away from Anita's shit."
Brian was mumbling by then, arguing probably, and if Justin peeked around the door he bet he would see Michael pushing Brian back down onto the bed and pulling a blanket up over him, but God, there were limits even to his stupidity.
Justin's heart was slamming against his ribs and he still didn't -understand-, but Rube's warning was echoing in his head: 'You are playing with fire. If you keep it up, someone's going to get burned.' He didn't know the whys or the hows, but now he knew -what-, and it was as if Brian had become a poison to him, threatening the only remnants of their time together that Justin had left.
Justin felt something that was probably terror clawing at his insides, and he ran down the stairs before his traitor mind could forget anything else.
[882/882/34566]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 03:48 pm (UTC)*cries and cries*
He didn't know the whys or the hows, but now he knew -what-, and it was as if Brian had become a poison to him, threatening the only remnants of their time together that Justin had left.
*cries even harder*
You are killing me!!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:01 pm (UTC)*wonders if she needs a "death" icon to go with the "evil"*
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 03:55 pm (UTC)*cries and hugs Brian very hard*
*points to icon*
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:02 pm (UTC)*giggles* Oh, man... I can't believe you made an icon for that.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:03 pm (UTC)*weeping uncontrollably*
Date: 2003-11-19 05:17 pm (UTC)"Who, your trick? Home, I'm guessing."
"No, it wasn't a trick, it was Justin. He was just here a minute ago."
Oh, god, oh lord. I KNEW he would figure out- Especially with his eyes closed- that it was Justin. *sobs*
it was as if Brian had become a poison to him, threatening the only remnants of their time together that Justin had left.
*wails & breaks down on floor* Waaaaaaaaa!!!!!
Ok, you must write more now. please.
Re: *weeping uncontrollably*
Date: 2003-11-19 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 05:48 pm (UTC)And by the way, I was meaning to thank you for writing Michael so sympathetically. Even though Mikey is not nearly as admirable as his British counterpart Vince in QaF UK (mainly because QaF US took all of his spine and left none of his cuteness), it still sucks to see Mikey as pseudo-Vince being treated badly.
And out of curiousity, is Brian still wearing that friendship bracelet during this?
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 09:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:02 pm (UTC)Wrenlet, does Brian wear the shell bracelet in this? And are we ever going to stop wanting to cry when reading this story? It's really hard on the heartstrings you know.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:12 pm (UTC)And yeah, we'll assume Brian is wearing it. Justin would've pitched a fit by now if he wasn't :)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:08 pm (UTC)But this is post-first-season, and Justin is my viewpoint character, sooooo... *fudges* He hasn't mentioned it's gone, so Brian is still wearing it :)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:11 pm (UTC)thank you for writing Michael so sympathetically.
You're welcome. I like Mikey, just not with Brian ;) No, really... Michael and Brian have a deep and fascinating friendship, I honestly wish more people treated it as such instead of turning Mikey into a caricature of himself. To be truthful, that almost happens in canon, he's written rather inconsistently.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 06:02 pm (UTC)*cries buckets*
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:11 pm (UTC)>>"No, it wasn't a trick, it was Justin. He was just here a minute ago."<<
how did he know? could brian tell just from the way justin sucked him off? did justin's little memory loss have some weird counterpart in brian, so that for a minute he really did see justin and not sean? or was brian just so damn high he THOUGHT he had justin in his bed?
you are most evil and you suck, and not in the fun sweaty way either.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 11:15 pm (UTC):( I'm sorry?
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 04:15 pm (UTC)She is evil, there can be no doubt, but she totally sucks in a positive, life-affirming way. Just not in this fic.
::cries more::
no subject
Date: 2003-12-03 10:44 pm (UTC)... and yes, I am spamming your inbox with comments. You got a problem with that?
no subject
Date: 2004-01-01 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-03 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 09:50 am (UTC)OMG Justin is in so much trouble!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-28 07:29 pm (UTC)omg, Brian recognizedhim...
omg, Justin is losing his memories
my heart aches so much, but it's just too addictive to not continue reading
*goes back to wailing*
Poison!
Date: 2008-07-18 01:26 am (UTC)