Imprint
by AHS

Justin asked questions, scheduled the follow-up, shook hands. Brian didn't hear much after "just a cyst."

Strange that good news should fill your head with white noise the same way as bad. It wasn't until they were walking to the car that he could really hear the happy breath sounds in his ear, feel the smile on his own face, or process what had just happened enough to respond to it.

With a kiss for Justin… his lips, relieved tears… and a question.

"Why'd you say that to Dr. Goldstein?"

"What? 'Thank you'?"

"You said, 'No face, right?' And he laughed. You should not have in-jokes with my ball doctor."

"Oh, that." Justin looked embarrassed for a second, chewed his lip like he was unsure he should say, giggled and gave in. "There was this news story a couple of weeks ago."

"Ghosts again?"

"No. Maybe."

"What the-"

"A man in Canada had a testicular tumor… benign… but when they did the ultrasound, you could distinctly see a face on it. And it wasn't like those people who think they see the Virgin Mary on their toast. This was clear. Glowing eyes, a nose, mouth hanging open like it was screaming."

Brian's left eyebrow practically arched off his face, but then he laughed at Justin's shudder. "How'd you manage to control yourself from sharing that with me?"

"I figured you had enough to worry about."

"If they ever find a face on my ball, it will be that of Justin Taylor, having made a permanent imprint."

"Taylor-Kinney." Justin grinned. "But I like that. A goal. I'll get to work on it when we get home… if you..."

Already pressed firmly to his side, Brian somehow pulled Justin closer. "Sounds good."

"Brian?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm… really fucking glad you're okay."

"Me, too."