Brian stared at the shiny black tabletop. There was white noise in his brain, something that both startled and angered him. It took him a moment to realize that the doctor was talking, holding something out to him. He took the colorful scan of his left testicle and stared at it blankly.
"I suspect it's a seminoma, a form of testicular cancer quite common in men your age. However, we cant be sure until we perform a biopsy."
Brian sat back. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. "How do you do that?"
"First we have to remove the testicle."
Brian tensed, despite his suspicions. "That's what I was afraid you were going to say." He didn't want to look at the picture of his imperfection. Handing it back, he stared at nothing. If it's just a lump….? But something in his brain whispered back, it's not just a lump, and you know it. "And if I don't have cancer, then….do you put it back in?"
"Unfortunately, no." Brian's heart dropped. He wouldn't be his perfect self any more. He wouldn't be intact. What the hell would Justin- or anybody- want with him after that?
"I was afraid you were going to say that, too."
"However, the good news is that the procedure is relatively simple." Oh yeah, the good news. That's good, all right. "As for the other teste, it will still be completely functional and neither your sexual performance, nor your fertility will be affected."
Right, my fertility. I care about being whole, not making babies. Brian sucked in a breath. "That is good news. I'll be a one ball wonder."
"Ah, no, no, no. We give you a prosthetic replacement." He watched the doctor get up and retrieve a box from the shelf behind him. Great. So I'll be broken and fake. "Here. Help yourself."
Brian sighed, staring at the box of fake balls in front of him. So this is what it's come to? This is what Jack left me? I'm a genetic fuck-up. "Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't."
"They will look and feel completely natural. Of course, we try to match the original testicle as closely as possible."
"Not too big, not too small, but…just…right." He sighed again. So, I'll be broken and fake and diseased. Shit. He had tried to keep Justin, but now that he wasn't perfect, there was no chance of that. Justin saw him as perfect. And now he wasn't. He picked a plastic ball out of the box and inspected it. "So, what are my chances?"
"With surgery, and follow-up procedure, ninety-nine percent. Not bad."
"And without surgery?" He flicked the plastic into the air, and the doctor caught it.
"The cancer will spread throughout you body, it will invade your vital organs, and you will die." Well, at least he didn't sugarcoat it.
Brian stared at the doctor, then at the tabletop, thinking. The doctor put the box away and sat down across from him again, folding his hands in front of him.
"I would recommend that you go ahead and have the surgery. It will eliminate the possibility of the cancer spreading quickly."
"I-I'll think about it." Brian smiled, tight-lipped and hostile, then stood and held out his hand. The doctor shook it and showed him out. Brian walked slowly out of to his car. If he got the surgery, he'd be a diseased, old, fucked up queen who no one would want. If he didn't get the surgery, he could go somewhere where he was still new and beautiful, party and fuck for as long and as much as possible, and then off himself somewhere and somehow that his surrogate family wouldn't find out. I'll still be young and beautiful and whole. And I'll still be a legend. He silently made his choice.
***************
Brian sighed, buttoning up his shirt. Justin had dressed and left to buy a bouquet of flowers for Debbie and leave Brian alone with his thoughts. Brian stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't want to end up like Vic, diseased and old and falling apart, even if Vic was in pretty good health for an HIV positive man of his age. But Brian didn't want to be a diseased old queen who lingered and deteriorated and became disgusting. He didn't want Justin to see him weak and have to take care of him; he knew Justin would hate it. He knew Justin would want to be gone. And he didn't want them to see him weaken, he didn't want them to see him break.
He stood beside Justin, only half listening to the minister, mulling over the irony of Vic's death and his own eminent end. Michael stepped forward and he tuned in.
"This is so hard. Where do I start? My Uncle Vic was the first person I ever told I was gay." Is this what it's going to be like at my funeral? No, because they're not going to know. They don't need to know. "He laughed, and said, 'Thank god! Now your grandmother will have someone else's soul to pray for.' That's how he was. Never sentimental, unlike me. Always facing adversity with a smile, and a cynical remark. I'm sure if he saw us here today he'd say 'What the hell are you wasting time on a dead man for? Go get laid!'" Brian nodded, looked at the sky. They wouldn't be wasting their time on him. They wouldn't want to waste time on Brian Kinney once he was weak and gone and useless. They wouldn't miss him like they missed Vic. "So I want to thank you, Uncle Vic. For everything you've taught me. You were a brave man. A good man. Which is all we can ever hope to be."
"Anyone else?" The minister asked gently.
"He made a fucking fabulous tarte aux pommes with crème fraiche." Emmett gushed. Everyone chuckled. Would they do this for me? Would they remember anything good about me?
"He was the only person I knew who looked good in a Hawaiian shirt. Well, almost." Mel wouldn't say anything good about me. Never in a million years.
"He once did coke with Liza in Studio 54." What strange and little known facts will they share about me?
"He was gay before it was fashionable." What will Sunshine say about me? What will Justin say?
"I never heard him complain. Not once. He lived in gratitude." I didn't live in anything. Sex, that's it. Will everyone lower their heads when Justin speaks? Or Mikey? No, they won't know. They can't know. I won't burden them with this shit, and I won't let them see me…like that.
"You may now place your roses." Brian leaned over, wincing slightly as he stepped back, even though he felt no pain. Will they place roses for me? No, they wont. Sorry, Sunshine, but I have to go.
People began to leave in clumps. Debbie was the first to turn and walk swiftly away, leaving Michael staring, and then running hurriedly after her. Emmett put an arm around Rodney as they left together, the munchers and Ted following. Hunter rolled his eyes and walked away, with Ben following behind. Jennifer joined Brian and Justin.
"God, I'm gonna miss him." Justin shook his head.
"Yeah. But it's too bad he had to wait this long. I mean, he could have gone out doing something amazing, wonderful, crazy. He could have been a legend."
"Of what, cooking? Brian, what are you talking about?"
Jennifer cut in. "I think he led a wonderful life. I think he felt fulfilled. I mean, he had Deb and Michael and Rodney. He was happy."
"All I'm saying is that it's better to go out when you're young, in a blaze of glory, than to end up some diseased old queen."
"You might feel differently if it were you." Brian resisted the urge to laugh out loud and looked away. It is me, Sunshine. It is me.
"Well, at least he didn't get sick and linger. That's the worst."
"And in such poor taste. You buy a one way ticket to Ibiza, party till you drop, and then discreetly disappear." Which is precisely what I'm going to do.
He got in his car. Justin looked at him funny, a question in his eyes. Brian sighed. "She wouldn't want me there. She barely wanted me at his funeral."
Frowning sympathetically, Justin nodded. "I'll go over there for a little while, then come back."
"Uh huh." He started the car and backed out of the lot, driving slowly home, watching the dead autumn leaves fall from their homes in the branches to be stepped on and destroyed on the sidewalk below.
When he got into the loft, he flopped down on the couch, kicking off his shoes and clawing his jacket off his body. He reached over to a box on the coffee table and pulled out a joint. God, that's what he needed. Something to put him in a haze so he could stop thinking about Vic and death and leaving and Justin. He had smoked two joints and a cigarette by the time Justin got home bearing Chinese food. They flopped down on pillows on the floor together, Justin spread the meal out before them. By the time everything was almost gone, they were feeding each other gently.
Justin fed Brian the last shrimp and snapped his chopsticks gently at his nose as he chewed. Brian reached in and pulled out a fortune cookie, snapping it open.
"A surprise awaits you." No shit. Can I take any more surprises? "What does yours say?"
"The man you love will slowly and sensually peel off all his clothes for you, exposing his perfect body."
"Hm." Not so perfect any more, Sonnyboy. But, what the hell.
Justin pushed himself into Brian's lap, leaning his face upwards for a kiss. "Then he will take out his beautiful dick, so you can suck it."
"This is one long fortune." Justin shoved his chest, making him lie down.
"There's more." He crawled up Brian's body.
"Oh." Justin kissed along his jaw, leaving a tingling sensation in his wake. He ran his fingers through Brian's hair.
"Next, he'll rim your ass to get you crazy, then ram his cock up you and fuck you so hard you pass out." He took the kiss offered to him.
"In bed."
"Hm?"
"You're supposed to add 'in bed' to the end of every fortune."
"I was thinking, on the floor."
"Okay." He kissed Justin, savoring the taste of his Sunshine and Chinese food combined. He felt a hand snaking into his jeans, sliding across his cock, gliding lower, about to grip his balls gently…
He grabbed Justin's hand suddenly. I have a lump. The lump. I'm fucked up. What if he feels it? He can't know, he won't know. Brian rolled to the side to cover his sudden jolt of fear.
"What?"
"Nothing. Your hand is cold."
"I'll warm them up." No. He didn't want Justin touching him. He didn't want to have Justin find out that he was imperfect. He wouldn't be able to face it if Justin found out and rejected him for being old and gross and diseased.
"It's okay. I'm kinda tired." He faked a yawn, grabbed one of the takeout cartons, kissing Justin on his way up, leaving the blonde to stare after him, confused.
**************
The next day, Justin was very quiet. He showered early, letting Brian sleep in and then shower alone. Once Brian was dry and dressed and getting himself a cup of coffee, Justin kissed him gently goodbye, informing him that he was spending the day with Daphne. Brian kissed him back, raising his eyebrows in confirmation, getting a concerned look from Justin before he slipped out the door.
Brian finished his coffee and sat down on a pillow in front of the TV. A special on James Dean was on, and who wouldn't miss that sort of classic for anything? He was watching them show clips from East of Eden when a knock sounded. Reluctantly, he lugged himself up from the floor and answered the door.
"Hey." Lindsay was standing there with Gus in her arms. Shutting the door, he gave her a little smirk and freed her of her son's weight.
"Does no one respect privacy anymore? Is it all but a forgotten right?" The privacy to fuck, the privacy to have opinions, the privacy to watch TV alone in his own home. The privacy to die in peace without being weak….
Lindsay handed him a teddy bear. "Gus has been saying 'Dada' all day."
"So he's developed a sudden interest in German surrealism."
"I think he means you. Try to be amusing," She admonished him. "He's been an enfant terrible all day."
"Oh, what's that?" He plopped Gus in front of the TV, then sat beside him. Lindsay went off, presumably to prepare food for their son. "Want to watch that? Boop." He tugged the beanie off Gus's head, then turned his attention back to the James Dean special. "You see the…pretty boy, Gus? He not only knew how to live…he also knew when to die."
"No." Gus whispered.
"Mhmm."
"No die…"
"No seeing himself….get old and gross." Brian stared at the screen. He wasn't going to deteriorate like that. No, he was going to go out in a blaze of glory. Like Cobaine, James Dean, Hendrix. They'll always be young, and they'll always be beautiful. He was going to do it. "Seeing himself gradually decompose….No diapers revisited. He went out in a blaze of glory, both balls intact." Just like what he was going to do. No surgery, no goddamn fake ball, no brokenness. He'd just go out in a blaze of glory and discreetly disappear.
"Isn't he a little young for James Dean?"
"Well, you don't want him watching Teletubbies, do you? It might make him gay." She squatted down beside him, plate in hand.
"You know, in your own weird, subversive way, you're not a bad father."
"Well, I'd prefer to see myself as the anti-dad." He handed the plate to Gus, then took something for himself before giving it back to Lindsay. What about Gus? What will they tell Gus about me? Can I do this without ruining Gus's life?
"Well, whatever you are. If you'd like to spend more time with him, all you have to do is ask." Will Gus miss me? Will he even fucking remember me?
"I think I'll stick to my un-credited cameo appearances."
Lindsay cleared her throat and stood, wandering around to the other side of the room to sit down. "You know, one day in the not-too-distant future, we'll be watching him graduate from school. Then I imagine he'll meet a lovely young girl…or boy. Get married, maybe. Have grand-children, maybe."
"Oh, you really know how to kill a moment, don't you?"
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be the hottest, handsomest anti-grandpa ever." Brian closed his eyes. I don't even know if I'll be alive next month. How can you think about being a grandparent? Shit. Gus. He looked at his son, who was staring at the screen, munching happily on a carrot stick. I don't know if I can do it anymore. What about Gus? Fuck it. I'm gonna do it.
**********
Brian tugged the gate down, pressing a button to bring him up to his loft. He leaned back against the wall, letting out a puff of air. He couldn't believe it, but he was actually in a kind of good mood today. No one fucked up the boards in the art department, and Cynthia wasn't pestering him, and someone had even managed to get the biggest, most obnoxious meeting of the month pushed back another week.
But he was still exhausted. He just wanted a beer and another James Dean special to relax and watch. He unlocked the door and tugged it open, slamming his briefcase and keys down on the counter. A strange noise caught his attention and he wandered over, opening the shuttered window with a gentle push. A lovely ass and a nice pair of (healthy, intact) balls greeted him. Then Justin's face appeared.
"I thought you might like a long, hard night after a long, hard day." He reciprocated the kiss lightly. No, I cant. I cant let them see me damaged. What if they find it? What if he finds it?
"Um…You know, I just remembered I…forgot something at the office." God, what a flimsy excuse. And he knew by the strange expression on Justin's face that it made him worry, but what the hell. He turned and walked out of the loft, ignoring Justin's calls of "Brian!"
He shut the loft door and pushed off, turning around, eyes glazed. "Oh, god." He muttered to himself. He needed to leave, soon. He needed to get going.
Brian got in the car and drove, just drove around for a while, thinking. He didn't know what about. Anything. Leaving, Lindsay, Kinnetic, Vic, Ibiza, Massachusetts, New York, Vance Gardner. He tried his hardest not to think of Justin or Gus. When he finally decided it had been long enough, since his car was also running out of gas, he made his way back to the loft. He could see that the lights were off. When he entered, Justin wasn't there, but a note by the bed told him that Justin was spending the night at Daphne's. Brian sighed. He showered and got in bed. It took him a long time to get to sleep.
*************
Justin didn't come back the next day. At least, not while Brian was awake. Brian lounged around again, jumping when there was a knock at the door. It was Mikey.
"Hey."
"Hey. Can I come in?" Brian nodded and let him in, sitting back down in the seat at the counter where he had been preparing a joint. Michael stood in the center of the room, looking worried and helpless.
"You look like you could use a blowjob."
"I'd settle for a joint. I suddenly feel a preponderance of death." Yeah, me too.
"Isn't that a play by Arthur Miller?"
"It's an unsettling observation by Michael Novotny." Michael lit the joint. "Everywhere I turn I'm…confronted with the inevitable fact of one's mortality."
Huh. Yeah, you and everyone else. At least your life's not threatened by some disease like everyone else you know. "Yeah. Death can really hang you up the most." He took the joint from Mikey and took a hit.
"I don't mean just Vic." Michael began to wander away. "Ben and Hunter." And me. "Man, it's a…a horrible thing to say. I don't even like to think it, but…they could die, just like him…and I'd be the one left to pack up their stuff and turn out the lights."
Brian nodded. Now he knew he was making the right decision. Mikey and Justin wouldn't have to do that for him. "Just because they're positive doesn't mean they'll be the first to go." I'll be the first to go, apparently. I'm diseased, just like them, and I'll be the first to go. "Hell, it could be you. You could step out in the street…get hit…by a Mercedes Kompressor." He grinned at Michael, took another drag. "So much classier than a bus."
"Thanks."
"Go down to the post office to buy a stamp…get blown away by a disgruntled postal worker. In case you haven't noticed, these days, they're all disgruntled."
Suddenly Michael looked miserable. Before Brian could turn away, he grabbed him and tugged him into a hug. Brian paused for a moment before patting Mikey's back. Michael released him and he wandered back to the counter.
"I just…I just get scared at the thought of being alone."
"It's how we all came in. It's how we're all going out." He opened the beers.
"Yeah, but until then, I'd prefer at least the illusion that someone else will be there, if only temporarily." Michael took the beer that was offered.
"Believe what you want, but… the less you have to hold on to, the easier it is to let go." He clinked his bottle with Michael's and took a drink. Which is why I'm leaving. One less thing for you and Justin and everyone else to hold on to. And I don't have anything to hold onto. At least, I won't if Justin finds out and leaves.
"Maybe so. Still, I'm glad I have you." Not for very long, Mikey. Not for very long.
Brian scoffed at the irony. "Who said anything about me?"
"Well…" Michael wrapped his arms around him. "It's nice to know that no matter what happens, we'll always have each other, like we always have. Right?" Brian didn't answer, and Mikey didn't seem to notice the missing 'always will.' He kissed Brian's neck. Brian sighed.
God. The sooner I get out of here, the better. I can leave, go in peace. They'll soon forget about me and they'll never see me….that way. The less you have to hold on to….
*********
"I cant believe you're taking off!" Cynthia stormed in as Brian was getting ready to leave, tossing his crumpled up itinerary at him. He raised an eyebrow.
"Flight eighteen. Barcelona and Madrid." She huffed at him. "Care to help me practice my Spanish? Como esta usted?"
"I'm fine, thank you, but you must be demented."
"It's one of those spontaneous sort of things." And I have to do it.
"And how are we supposed to….spontaneously sort of cover for you while you're tanning your ass? You have meetings with Remson, Brown, Eyeconics…"
"They can wait. They can all wait until I get back."
"And, when are you coming back?" Never.
"I'll let you know."
"Huh. I have worked for you for five years, and I've never known you to just take off. So why now, when you've just opened up your own firm, would you suddenly decide-" Does everyone need to know my business? Fuck. Off. He interrupted her.
"Well, that's the point of being your own boss isn't it? Make your own hours, come and go as you please, not answer to anyone."
"Well, almost anyone." Justin's voice rang out, and Brian's heart sank. Shit. He was hoping to leave without saying goodbye.
"Ah, the ball and chain. Cynthia….would you excuse us?"
"Be sure to eat plenty of fresh fruit and drink lots of tap water." Her farewell was snappy and swift, and he was glad for it.
"Where are you going?"
"Ibiza." To disappear. "I'm leaving tonight."
"Without me?" Yes. Without you. I'm not going to let you see me weaken and die. Fuck that.
"Well, you're going back to school, remember? And it would be highly irresponsible of me to just pull you out."
"Fuck school. Fuck the bet. Fuck you. I mean, we were supposed to go together." Yeah, well, that was before I was dying. And you are not coming. And Christ, I don't have to do everything you say. Quit clinging to me like a doting housewife!
"We're not fucking married!" The outburst came as a surprise to both, but Brian ran with it. Fuck him. Fuck everyone. All this shit. All this anger and pent up whatever was boiling in the pit of his stomach. "And I don't need to get your fucking permission if I want to go somewhere."
He strode into the other room to grab some files, Justin staring after him in surprise. He took a breath, calming himself. It wasn't Justin's fault. Shit. He didn't mean to yell at him like that. He lo- he cared for Justin, he didn't want to hurt him. He stepped back into the room, staring at the floor.
"You're right. You're absolutely right. We have no obligation to tell each other anything." I'm not going to tell you what's wrong, Justin. You cant know. "Look, if I did something or said something to piss you off, I didn't mean to."
Shit. No, it's not your fault. "It's not you." He tugged Justin into a gentle embrace.
"Then what is it?" Justin kissed his neck gently. God. "Then what?"
Brian stared at Justin, resisting the urge to kiss him goodbye and shrugged. I cant tell you. You cant know because then you'll worry about me and you wont let go.
"Okay. You go do whatever you have to do for whatever reason you have to do it. I just want you to know I love you." Shit. That's why I didn't want to see you. "And I'll be here when you get back." I'm not coming back. He smiled and nodded. Glancing up him, Brian saw the promise in Justin's eyes. He was so fucked. He watched Sunshine grab his jacket and walk out of the office, and began to get ready to leave. He switched off one of the lights.
That's what they'll be doing to me soon. Switching me off like a light. But Justin….and Gus….and….Shit.
He grabbed the floor lamp he was reaching to switch off and slammed it into the ground. The crash felt satisfying but then he just felt sick. He rubbed his face with his hands, willing away the prickling behind his eyes.
I cant. I cant go through with it. I cant leave. He said he loves me. He said he'd be here when got back. He fucking trusts me. He fucking trusts that I'm actually going to come back. I cant leave Gus and Justin and Mikey and…But, I'm not going to end up a diseased old queen. No matter what, they cant fucking know.
He stood there for quite a whole, shoulders hunched, his face in his hands, chest heaving. No tears came but his shoulders shook gently for a moment, then he rubbed a hand across his face and sat down at his desk. He picked up his phone and dialed a new number.
"Hi, I'd like to schedule an appointment."
*********
Brian slept during the flight. But his dreams were full of Justin and Gus, staring down at him from above as if he were stuck in some dark hole, Justin just looking sadly down, and then away, and Gus waving his little hand, then both of them walking away. And all he could see was their retreating backs.
He was quite calm in the doctor's office. He'd had surgery before, and was used to the routine. So he did what the doctor told him, not thinking, not really registering anything until he was in the room, ready for surgery.
"Okay, Mr. Kinney. Relax, and count backward from ten."
Brian tried his best to relax. Think about something nice.
"Ten." Mikey and me, when we were kids. "Nine." Gus. Gus, you're old man will be all right. "Eight." Justin. Sunshine. God, I lo- I miss you already. I hope I can keep my promise to come back. "Seven." Justin, I…. But the blackness took him.