Brian rolled his neck, sighing. Fucking kid taking over his position. He was going to stay the Stud of Liberty Avenue, whether this Brandon person liked it or not. He shook his head. I wasn't going to think about that, remember? So instead he turned his mind to the young blonde who was probably sitting at his computer, working. The elevator stopped and he stepped out and unlocked the door, sliding it open.
Stepping inside, he noticed Justin sitting on the couch, staring off into space. He smiled affectionately at the blonde. He's hot when he's thinking. Okay, he's hot all the time. Whatever. He took off his jacket and opened the fridge. It was fucking hot and he needed a refreshment. He grabbed a water bottle and turned.
"The club was packed tonight."
Justin groaned and stretched. "That's nice."
"Line all the way around the block." He wasn't really sure why he was telling Justin this.
"Great." Justin sure sounded interested.
"Barely any room on the dance floor." You should have been there with me.
"Whatever else happens, by all means, keep on dancing."
"What about you, Dear, how was your evening?" It was partial mockery, but it covered the fact that Brian really did want to know. Justin had been acting weird for a while now.
"Not nearly as exciting as yours." Justin stood and walked toward him. "I spent it here. Alone. Thinking. And don't say always a dangerous sign." Jesus, Justin knew him well. He made a gesture of zipping up his lips, pulling them into his mouth in a way that he knew Justin found sexy. "I made some decisions." Shit. Not this again. Don't say what I think you're going to say.
"'Bout what?"
"My life." Well, that was informative. Brian nodded.
"Ah."
"What I want." Shit. It was worse than he thought. Brian stared at him, then looked away.
"I thought you'd already worked that out. You're gonna live off your considerable Hollywood wealth and try your hand at being an artist." You'd live with me, you'd torture me into caring about you, you'd drive me batshit crazy but I don't want you to leave.
"Why are you making fun of me?" You're accusing me. You're thinking. You've made decisions. What the hell is going on?
"I'm not making fun of you." Justin stared at him. "Look, you're making me fucking nervous as hell. Just…tell me what you want, and what you've decided, so we can go to bed. And fuck."
Justin chuckled derisively. "You already know what I want. I've already told you." Yeah. I cant give it to you. I don't do romance. I don't do words. I could never do words like you can. I'm an actions kind of guy. So give me a fucking break.
He nodded. "That's right. You have. A husband. A family. A home. All the things that make life worth living." All the things I never had and could never even imagine having. Shit like that just doesn't work. At least, not around me.
Justin rolled his eyes. "Would you fucking cut it out? Just stop it." Brian raised his eyebrows. What do you want from me? Justin sighed, resigned. "And I know you cant give me those things."
"Not cant. Cant implies that I am incapable. It's that I wont."
"I accept that. I suppose it's why I've always loved you."
Brian scoffed. What a great reason to be loved. "Ah. The untamable beast."
"But…" Brian felt nervous adrenaline in his stomach. Where was this going? "To be a couple both people need to want the same things. To move in the same direction. If they cant…or…wont, they really have no where to go."
You're leaving? Don't. Don't go. What are you going to do without me? He didn't know what to say. "Probably not."
"Then why are we still doing this if we both know it's never going to work?"
Because I want you to stay with me. Because… He gave a little smile. This fucking conversation was ridiculous. "Damned if I know."
If he's going to leave, he would have done it already. That was the most pointless conversation. He watched Justin cross the room, uncertain suddenly filling his gut.
For a moment, his heart hitched as he watched Justin fling a jacket on and pick up a couple of duffels. He rolled his eyes. Shit. He's leaving. I should…I have to…I cant say that. I cant say what he needs to hear. I've been showing him for years. But I cannot say it. Brian Kinney just doesn't say things like that. He should know how I feel by now.
He set his water bottle down on the counter with more force than intended, and stepped over to stand in front of Justin, who dropped the bags at his feet, giving him a last chance. Brian knew he wouldn't take it. Instead, he stared at the black duffels on the floor. He felt Justin pull him into an embrace, and stood there awkwardly for a moment before wrapping his arms around his Sunshine.
He silently savored the arms around him, memorizing the touch. "Where you going?"
He felt Justin shake his head. "Dunno. I'll figure it out."
Stay here, with me. Say it, Kinney. Say it. I cant. I cant say it. Justin released his grip and they stepped away from each other. A line had been crossed and broken. He stood there, helpless, as Justin picked up his bags and opened the door.
He stared at the floor. He should've expected this. Everyone in his life left him at one point or another. It had just taken Justin longer than most to figure out that he was damaged goods, that Brian Kinney was not quite perfect, and that he was better of with someone else. Again. But he said he loves me. Fuck. Kinney, just say it.
He turned toward the door. "Let me know." He raised his eyebrows. Justin looked at him, expression unreadable, didn't even nod. The sliding of metal and Brian was staring at blank grey where his Sunshine once was.
Why didn't you say it? Because I cant. It's over now. It was over now. Time to get back to life. If he knew how.
