Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of the characters in this story. I just merely used my warped brain to twist it around to create something that I at least find fascinating.
Rating/Warning: M (for language, violence, sexual content – let's face it…is it really a Queer as Folk story if it isn't smutty?)
Summary: Set in season four, Brian returns from his "vacation" in "Ibiza" to find that Justin didn't live up to his promise of being there when he gets back. After spending days looking for him, the boy randomly turns up, breaks things off with Brian, and Brian soon discovers the reason. However, something isn't right about the entire situation, and Brian is determined to find out the real reason behind Justin's sudden decision to leave him, especially after his promise, especially when Brian needs him more than he's willing to admit.
"I just want you to know I love you, and I'll be here when you get back."
– Justin (4.07) –
"Who the fuck is calling me at three in the morning," Debbie Novotny asked in a rather tired and cranky voice as she reached over and flicked on the light beside her bed.
There was a nervous chuckle on the other end and the small clearing of a throat before the caller spoke, "sorry Deb," Justin replied, "I just needed to tell you that I won't be able to come into the diner to work for the next couple of days."
The red head, previously groggy with sleep, sat up a little straighter. "Why? Is something wrong Sunshine? Are you okay?" There was a small tone of panic in her voice because why else would Justin be calling her this early in the morning if there wasn't something wrong?
She noted the pause before he answered and furrowed her eyebrows questionably at the slight tremor she heard in his voice when he spoke again. "Yeah…I'm fine," there was another pause and she heard a faint clicking sound on the other end of the telephone, "um, Brian just sent me an extra ticket to Ibiza. The flight leaves in a few hours; I thought I was going to get your answering machine...so, sorry if I woke you."
"You called me at fucking three in the morning Sunshine to tell me that your "boyfriend" sent you a ticket so he could fuck your brains out while the two of your were out of the country," Deb asked, although there was a slight lightness to her tone that told Justin she wasn't completely upset with him, and then she continued speaking, "anyhow, have fun Sunshine. We can find someone to cover your shifts; give Brian a good smack on the head for me…the one above his shoulders."
"Will do Debbie," Justin laughed, although his surrogate mother noted that there was something a little off about the boy's laughter, "I'll see you soon."
That was the end of the call and Deb merely pondered as to why the bright blond had called her so early in the morning and what was off with him, but before she could come to any serious, or logical, conclusions, sleep once more took over her body and she wouldn't give it another thought…not for another three days at least.
Brian suppressed a groan as he walked into the diner. His body was still noticeably tired from his days spent in the cancer unit at Johns Hopkins and every inch of his anatomy was screaming at him to go home and rest in the comfort of his bed, but he was Brian Kinney, he didn't take personal days just because he had to fight fucking cancer. Plus, everyone thought that he had been in Ibiza and so he needed to put on a show and act like he had just spent days and nights fucking random, nameless guys until he had passed out…and he wanted to see Justin, although he would never state that desire out loud.
Things for the two of them had been a little rocky before he had left since Justin didn't like the fact that Brian was going on "vacation" without him. Brian, when Justin and he had gotten into the fight at the office, had every intention of breaking things off with him completely then and there because he knew that the after effects of his cancer were going to show and he needed to be alone until he was finally able to be Brian Kinney again, but then that blond little twink had to go and declare that he would be there waiting for him when he got back from whatever binge he needed to go on to get back to normal. Brian had found it difficult in the three plus years to walk away from somebody so devoted to putting up with his bullshit.
As he suspected, he found a few of his…friends (could he actually declare that word to describe Theodore and Melanie?) at the counter of the diner and he sauntered over and slid onto the stool beside the pregnant lesbian and smirked slightly as he caught the tail end of their conversation – something about how Ted wished he was Brian, off in Ibiza screwing whatever piece of ass walked by.
"Unfortunately for you Theodore, you aren't me," Brian said as a way of announcing himself, "so, you're stuck with simply staring at the asses walking by wishing they would fuck you." He reached over and grabbed a piece of fruit off of Mel's plate, earning a jab at his fingers with the fork she was holding. He shot a grin at her, before popping the piece of watermelon into his mouth as he listened to Ted's monotone voice exclaim something about having his boss back, god he was such an ass kisser.
He concocted quick lies to the questions about his trip and the men that he had supposedly fucked, and why he was so pale after being in a place known for its nice weather, and once the two were done asking him questions, the conversation lacked and he shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. Brian looked around, his eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses that he had slapped on his face when he had left the loft this morning, and noticed that one of the very specific reasons he had decided to present himself to the diner wasn't there, which was odd. He shook back the sleeve of his jacket and peered at the platinum watch on his wrist; Justin didn't have class for another forty-five minutes and he hadn't been at the loft so Brian had figured that he had either come here for breakfast or had come here to pick up an extra shift, but his bubble butt wasn't anywhere to be seen.
At that moment, Deb came from the back and grabbed up a plate from the order window and carried it over and set it next to the Melanie's already half eaten plate of food. He raised his eyebrows for a moment as he looked at her, wondering how such a tiny woman, albeit a butch lesbian, could stomach so many carbs so early in the day. "I'm feeding two here," she shot at him with a glare before tucking the napkin into her collar and digging greedily into her meal.
"Yes, she is," Debbie said, getting that "proud grandmother" look on her face again before she turned to Brian, "and when did you get back?"
He shrugged, "this morning," he said, not feeling up to another bout of idle chit chat with an audience of only one, "where's Justin?"
The red head stared at him for a moment, "why the fuck are you asking me? Didn't you two come back on the same flight?"
"Normally Deb, I just ignore your crazy banter, you know, I chalk it up to old age and well the pure insanity that must come with being a woman, but for once I'm going to acknowledge it. What in the fuck are you talking about?"
"You flew Sunshine out to Ibiza," she said, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him, although she was a tad curious as to why the man acted like he didn't seem to remember that fact, "he only called me at three in the fucking morning on Monday to tell me that you sent him a ticket to join him."
"Aw," Ted interrupted, "was it so rainy in Ibiza that Brian needed his wittle Sunshine to brighten his day?"
At that remark, Brian pulled off his sunglasses and glared over at him, pointing a finger, "first off, fuck you. And secondly, what the fuck are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"
Theodore grumbled something inaudible, probably something along the lines of Brian being an asshole, as he climbed off the chair and grabbed his coat, stalking his way sulkily out the door before Brian turned his attention back to Deb to once more question her about what in the world she was talking about. But she beat him to opening his mouth first. "You look like fucking hell Brian," the woman said loudly, peering at him as if he were some creature from outer space, "what in the hell happened to you?"
Realizing that she must have noticed the redness in his eyes and the dark bags lingering under them he shoved the dark glasses over his face. "Excuse me for fucking on my vacation Deb," he sneered as he got off the stool, knowing that they would buy his excuse as to why he look so worn out, "but someone around here has to get laid." With that being his final word, he headed out the door in a huff trying to sort out what exactly had just happened.
He had been an idiot for taking the sunglasses off so easily, especially in Debbie's presence when she was bound to notice something wrong with one of her lost boy's, but then again, he had just been so confused by what she had said. Brian shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. He could feel a headache coming on and as he climbed into his car, he contemplated going into work and worsening the headache or figuring out what the fuck was going on with this Justin situation. He had opted for the latter of the two options before he had even started the engine. Within a few minutes, Brian was a few streets away and once more getting out of his car to see someone he could actually label his friend.
The moment that he opened the door however Mikey looked up and his best friend was around the counter and throwing his arms around him in an attempt at a bone-crushing hug. Michael began to spout off the same questions he had been asked not twenty minutes ago at the diner and he answered them much in the same way that he had there. He was a bit hastier though in answering the interrogation since he had a few questions of his own. Once Mikey had calmed down considerably and was again settled behind the counter, his fingers tracing the edge of an apparently enticing comic, Brian rested his elbows against it and took the sunglasses off and tucked them into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose, willing the growing headache to go away.
"Jesus Brian, you –" Michael started.
"Look like hell, I know; you're mother already informed me. Can we just skip past that? I need to talk to you about something."
"'Kay...shoot."
Brian came out with it immediately, and rather bluntly, "where the fuck is Justin? And do not tell me that I should know because we were just on the same flight together."
Michael opened his mouth to say something, thought about it, closed his mouth, thought again, and opened his mouth once more, before repeating this process three more times.
"You look like a fucking fish Michael; answer me," Brian snapped, frustrated at his friend's silence.
His best friend shrugged at him as he closed the comic book on the counter and scooped it up to tuck it back into its protective packaging, "I don't know Brian. The last time I saw Justin was Sunday. Ma told us on Monday morning that you had sent him a ticket to join you in Ibiza."
The brunette sighed, "I never sent Justin a plane ticket. I haven't even talked to Justin since before I left."
"Oh good, so it wasn't just me you neglected to call."
Brian rolled his eyes and stepped away from the counter, "not right now Mikey," he said with a small groan, "all I care about is figuring out where the fuck Justin is."
Michael raised his eyebrows at Brian. He had accepted some time ago that Brian cared about Justin, hell, after a while, it was hard, even for him, not to care about the little brat, but this one of the few times where his friend showed just how much he cared about the artist. "Why? Did somebody miss his Sunshine? Does Brian Kinney need a welcome home fuck," he teased.
"Fuck," Brian shouted suddenly, turning away from his friend and lashing out at one of the racks of comics, making it spin wildly, releasing a few of its contents, "why can nobody be fucking serious for one minute around here?"
The raven haired man shot a glare at him as he came out from behind the register to gather his precious collectables, grumbling something unheard as he did so. As he stuffed them back into their appropriate spots, Michael looked over his shoulder at Brian and shrugged for the second time that morning. "I don't know where he is Brian. He probably just went to class early; or maybe he went to see Daphne, or his Mom, or Lindsay and Mel." Mikey was merely rattling off a list of possibilities for his friend since he really didn't have much of an answer for him.
Frustration consumed the ad-exec and he curled and uncurled his hands into fists as he tried to calm himself, reminding himself that not everyone in his dysfunctional family seemed to catch on to things as quickly as he did. "If that were the case Mikey," he said, struggling to keep his voice even, "then why in the fuck haven't you seen him in four days and why in the fuck did he call your mother at three in the god damn morning to lie to her saying that I asked him to join me on vacation?"
Michael had no answer to that question.
"Are we sure that Brian isn't just putting on some big production to cover up the fact that he fucked up with Justin again," Ted asked before gulping down some of his water.
Michael shoved a spear of pancakes into his mouth as he furiously shook his head. "No," he protested through the food, "Brian didn't fuck up again. Justin is just gone. He won't answer his phone and nobody's heard from him since he called my mother. I think Brian's really freaked out about it."
"What am I really freaked out about," asked the very person they had been speaking about as he slid into the booth, scrunching Michael closer to Ben in the process.
"Justin's disappearance," Emmett said, unabashedly, "or as I suspect, Justin getting away from you for a few days because you ran off on a fuck crazy spree vacation without him."
"Well personally I just think you screwed up royally with him again and that's why you're making such a big deal over this because you don't want to admit that you couldn't be what Justin wanted…again," Ted said nonchalantly, flashing a sardonic smile towards the brunette who's eyes lowered in a menacing glare.
Debbie sauntered over with a pot of coffee and a mug placing it down in front of Brian, her hand falling to her hip in the way that it always did when she was about to say something that she specifically wanted to be heard. "Well it's a damn good thing that neither of your cynical view points are important," she started, causing Brian to smirk, because for once she wasn't laying into him, "now Brian may be many things, and a horrible boyfriend and an asshole are a few," the smirk faded, "but he's not a liar. If he says that Sunshine wasn't with him, then Sunshine wasn't with him. So you two need to stop doubting him and maybe try helping him because in the end you should be worried about Justin and why the fuck he lied to me about where he was going and why."
The table was silent once the redhead closed her mouth, and Brian merely brought the cup of coffee to his mouth, grimacing slightly at the taste because not many things were appealing to him since his surgery. Everyone else, however, was too wrapped up in their own thoughts and feelings of guilt to really notice anything. Brian, looking from face to face, decided that he really didn't want to stick around for whatever crazy plan of action his friends were going to concoct.
"You know, I actually think I have a bit of work to catch up on," he said as an unnecessary excuse as he slid back out of the booth and started for the door.
Michael paused and stared questioningly at his best friend's back retreating out the door, "it is Saturday…Brian never works on Saturday."
Brian pulled the gate of the lift up with a small grimace from the effort and sighed as he stepped onto the floor that held his loft. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he worked the lock on his door. The brunette was tired. Not only had he just had to undergo a fucking procedure that removed one of his balls, but he had to come home to absolutely nothing.
He shouldn't have been as upset as he was; Brian had known that in the long run of this little problem of his, Justin would end up leaving him, but he hadn't expected it to be this soon, especially after Justin had specifically told him that he would be here, waiting for Brian to get back after getting whatever it was out of his system. Yet, clearly, something had changed in the time that he was gone.
Stepping inside, he shut the door with a sigh and immediately started for the liquor that he had been finding more and more comfort in since his return. But, before he could get to the familiar bottle of Jim Beam, the sound of someone shuffling behind the dividers separating the bedroom from the rest of the loft distracted him.
Curiously confused, Brian headed over, trudging up the few steps to the raised area, but stopped the minute he caught sight of the person moving around. "Justin?"
The blond, who had been pulling clothes from hangers and shoving them into a duffle bag paused at the sound of his name, but kept his head down.
Silence hung between the two men, neither one of them moving. Brian was searching for something to say, and Justin was pleading internally that the brunette didn't speak. And once he was certain that Brian was going to wait for him to say something he turned back to the closet and once again started to pull things from it.
"Going somewhere…again," Brian asked, finally finding his voice, watching as Justin irritatingly threw the current article of clothing in his hand into the bag. He really didn't want to talk. "Are you just going to act like an immature teenager or are you actually going to speak to me?"
That definitely got under the younger man's skin. Justin finally looked over at him and for a moment Brian had to do a double take because the skin around his right eye was swollen and tinted in various shades of blue and purple.
He instantly crossed the distance between him and the boy and gingerly touched his chin, tilting his head so that he could get a better look at the damage. "What the hell happened," Brian blatantly asked.
"Got into a fight," Justin murmured shrugging away from him and stalking off to the bathroom.
For a moment Brian stood there. Rarely, even if it wasn't a sexual touch, did the blond ever shrug his hand away. In fact, the only time that he had really ever done that was when he was seeing that stupid fiddler. He blanched at that thought before stalking after him, leaning against the door frame as he watched him hastily grab his things.
"So, where were you?"
No answer.
"Why did you leave?"
Again, no answer.
"Why did you tell everyone you were with me?"
Brian waited, and huffed when once more, Justin didn't respond to his question. He actually had to bite his tongue a little before he started fuming, however, he couldn't completely hold back his temper. "Will you tell me what the fuck is going on?"
Finally, Justin decided to speak. "What is this? An interrogation? Do I need to call my lawyer?" He stomped passed Brian rather childishly and shoved his toiletries into the duffle, zipped it shut, and shouldered it.
He began to head for the door, but Brian was hardly through with him and so he followed, covering the other man's hand when he made a move to yank open the front door to leave. The brunette noted how defeated the sigh sounded and how instantaneously Justin's shoulders dropped at Brian's last attempt at getting him to stop and talk, to explain what was going on.
"Why can't you just let me leave," the blond inquired quietly, his voice shaking noticeably.
"Tell me why you're leaving and I'll let you go." Brian didn't want to answer like that. He didn't want Justin to go, no matter what his reason was, but their relationship, as it had been when Ethan had entered the picture, was one where both of them were free to leave whenever they wanted to. But, he had just thought after all of the stuff that had happened with that…thing…Justin would have wanted nothing other than to stay with Brian.
Hesitation leaked from the blond and he remained facing the door, his head was once again bent for the second time since Brian had gotten home, and he seemed to have found something fascinating to stare at on the floor.
"I can't do it anymore."
Justin's voice was so quiet that Brian could barely hear the words coming out of his mouth, but at the same time, they seemed to scream volumes to the brunette. He started to open his own mouth to ask him what he meant by that but it seemed that the blond had felt the need to explain.
"I know that I said I was okay with you leaving," he started, "but I can't get your voice out of my head, screaming at me that I'm not your husband. You said that as if it were the ugliest word in the world. I can't be in a relationship where the only thing in it that you actually care about is the sex."
Brian wanted to protest. Surely by now Justin had to know that their relationship was far more than sex to him. The boy knew where he stood when it came to marriage - the jacked up hetero ritual. So why was he once again putting it into question? Things were good for them. Okay, so maybe he had just taken off but he had a legitimate reason for that, even if he didn't feel that he could share it with anyone. When Brian had left for "Ibiza" he had thought that Justin was really okay with him going, that things would be fine when he got back as long as the truth behind his departure was kept a secret from him.
Once more, he was going to open his mouth and say something when Justin once again spoke, and this time, what he said, Brian was definitely certain he had never, would never, desire to hear it.
"I should have stayed with Ethan."
And just like that, Justin was gone and Brian was standing there, staring at the place that his partner had just been standing. He wanted to believe that there was something wrong about the blonde's sudden decision to leave him but he just felt numb. Brian had thought that finding out he had to get a testicle removed had been hard, but to be told that Justin thought that coming back to him had been a mistake had hit him harder than he wanted it to.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but it seemed that his feet couldn't find the will to move. This had to be a joke. Justin didn't just walk out on him.
Still, no matter how long he stood there he was alone.
Justin was gone.
