Learning to Love (8/?)
By Carol M.
See first part for details. On with the story…
Brian awoke gradually, his brain still caught in that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness. A faint memory of a nightmare trickle through his mind, images of a scared little boy getting slapped around by his father. Then just as quickly, the pictures faded, leaving nothing but a vague idea that would be forgotten as soon as he was completely awake. An odd sort of calm swept over him and he was okay, no bad memories, no more bad dreams.
As he slowly opened his eyes, all traces of the nightmare were gone, and Brian was left staring curiously at the rolled up piece of paper staring him in the face. He instantly knew it was from Justin without even looking at it. He delicately stretched out his hand and picked up the paper, carefully unrolling it. What he saw nearly made him lose all his breath. It was an illustration of the most beautiful basket of flowers he had ever seen. Roses, tulips, sunflowers, daffodils, carnations, orchids…practically every colorful flower in the world.
A small smile spread across Brian's face. He brought the drawing up to his nose, trying to detect Justin's scent. And he could. The sweet, musky smell of his young lover threw his mind into a tailspin. It had all been one big mistake. They were back together. Justin was probably waiting outside, ready to fuck him at a moment's notice.
Then his eye caught on the small key that had been set under the drawing. His stomach dropped out of his body and he let out an audible gasp when he realized the implications. Justin's key. The key to their home. He scooped the key up into his hand and let the drawing fall to the floor, his heart and mind no longer able to look at the work of art. He swallowed hard, willing the bile that was rising up in his throat to stay down as his head started to thud painfully. This was it, it was really over.
He grasped the key firmly in his hand and then threw it as hard as he could across the room. The key smashed against the wall, chipping some of the paint, and landed with a jingle on the tile floor. The sound ignited a firestorm in Brian's mind and suddenly, he felt incredibly claustrophobic. He had to get the hell out of his room before the walls caved in on him.
With a wide grimace, he clutched his immobile arm firmly against his chest and sat up, doing his best to ignore the waves of pain that rocked through his frame. He gritted his teeth and scooted off the bed, his feet coming to rest against the cold floor for the first time in days. He took a deep breath and stood up, nearly falling over as a wave of dizziness sailed through his head. He groaned out loud and then took a shaky step forward, nearly falling over his own feet. It was at that moment that Michael stepped in the room.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing, Brian?" he asked as he stepped forward and placed supportive hands on both of Brian's arms.
"What the fuck does it look like?" retorted Brian as he unsuccessfully tried to push Michael off of him. He stepped forward again and struggled to control the nausea that suddenly assaulted his senses. "Oh," he moaned.
"Nurse!" cried out Michael as he attempted to get Brian back into bed. "I need some help in here."
"No you don't, I'm getting the hell out of here," said Brian firmly, his body shaking from pain and exertion. He stepped over to his suitcases and started rooting through his clothes, in desperate need of some pot or E or whatever else he could find.
"Brian stop!" yelled Michael, trying to slap the clothes out of his hand.
"Leave me alone," Brian yelled.. "Fuck, I know I had some E in here in somewhere," he said as he ripped through a pair of jeans. "God damn hospital staff prolly swiped em, you can't trust any of these assholes. They're all a bunch of tweaked out junkies anyway."
"You need to get back in bed," said Michael in a worried tone.
"What I need is for everyone to stop telling me what to do," said Brian, his arm wrapping around his rib cage. "Shit," he groaned out, the excessive movements wreaking havoc on his tender midsection.
A blonde-haired overweight nurse stepped into the room just then, giving Brian a disapproving glance. She instantly stepped forward and assisted Michael in wrangling Brian back into bed. "You need to stay in bed, Mr. Kinney," she said firmly.
"What are you, my fucking mother?" said Brian in a nasty tone once he was settled back in bed.
The nurse put her hands on hips and gave him a smug smile. "Honey, I've dealt with people a lot bigger and a lot scarier than you. Don't think you can get under my skin that easily."
Brian rolled his eyes. "If you're trying to sweet talk me, then you're not doing a very good job, Doris," he said pointedly as he glanced at her name tag.
"Cute, very cute," said Dolores. She smiled coldly and then stepped out of the room.
"That woman is in desperate need of some fucking," said Brian as he shifted his position. "Mikey, I can't be held responsible for what I'll do to these people if I have to stay here another day. I'm going to kill them all."
"Yeah, if they don't kill you first," said Michael, perching on the edge of Brian's bed. "Christ, you're falling apart."
"Just get me the hell out of here," said Brian with pleading eyes. "Please Michael."
Michael gave him a small smile. "Let me see what I can do," he said as he got up and walked out of the room.
Ten minutes later, the two friends were on the roof of the hospital with Brian sitting in a wheelchair smoking a cigarette and Michael standing next to the edge of the building, looking down at the street below.
"So this is your idea of getting me out of here?" said Brian sarcastically.
"Hey asshole, I got you out of your room, didn't I?" said Michael defensively.
Brian snorted and took a long drag of his cigarette. "I just couldn't be in there anymore, you know. I felt caged up like an animal or something."
"Well don't worry, the doctor says he's gonna release you in a few days," said Michael. "Maybe next time you'll think twice about driving when you're stoned out of your mind."
"What are you, the fucking poster child for faggots against drunk driving?" quipped Brian.
"No, I just don't want to have to endure your wonderful temperament in a hospital again anytime soon," said Michael in a kidding tone.
"Yeah well don't worry, next time I'll make sure I'm dead so I can avoid the fucking hallowed halls of this god awful place," said Brian.
"Don't say that," said Michael. "You came close enough as it was."
"Not close enough," said Brian, puffing on his cigarette. He took a deep breath and glanced upward at the sky.
"Maybe you need to talk to somebody," said Michael.
"Fuck doctors," said Brian. "I've had enough of them shoving shit up my ass the last few days to last a lifetime."
"I thought you liked having shit shoved up your ass?" said Michael with a knowing smile.
"Not by 60 year old heteros named Walter," said Brian. "Though I must say the male nursing staff has been particularly attentive to my needs."
"I'll bet," said Michael, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "Look, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."
"What?" asked Brian curiously.
"I guess I sort of feel like this is all my fault. Your accident and you and Justin's break up and everything else," said Michael, trailing off.
"Why would you think that?" asked Brian.
Michael shrugged. "I don't know. If I hadn't have told you about Ethan, maybe things would've been different. When you first got hurt, I blamed Justin. But the more time I had to think about it, I…"
"It's not your fault," interrupted Brian. "You were just doing what you thought was right."
"Yeah, but still…I feel bad," said Michael. "I should have just stayed the fuck out of it and minded my own god damn business."
"Forget it, Michael, it's over and done with," said Brian as he took a final drag of his cigarette and threw it over the edge. Both men watched the small butt disappear into the air below. "You think Nurse Ratchet will chop my balls off if I have another cigarette?" asked Brian as he pulled another smoke out of his pack and lit it with his gold lighter.
"You better make it a fast one," said Michael. "She'll probably chop my dick off if you're out here much longer."
Brian laughed and puffed on his cigarette, while Michael took his turn at staring up at the sky. Several minutes went by without the friends saying a word. Then Brian spoke up, breaking the silence. "I just want him to be happy," he said softly.
"What?" asked Michael.
"Justin," clarified Brian. "I want the little fuck to be happy. I don't think he ever really was with me."
"He was," said Michael. "Both of you were."
"What are you fucking Oprah now?" said Brian.
"It's okay to miss him, you know. You don't have to put on a brave face. No one's watching," said Michael.
"I'm watching," said Brian. "I don't do…"
"Heartbreak," finished Michael. "Yeah, I know."
Brian nodded and took another drag of his cigarette. He blew the smoke out in one long curly string that slowly drifted away into the air. Then once again, he flicked the cigarette over the edge, watching it fall to the earth. "Long way down, kids," he said under his breath. He glanced up at Michael and then abruptly tugged on his arm, pulling his friend down into an embrace.
Michael rested his jaw on top of Brian's head and tenderly stroked his back while Brian nuzzled his head against Michael's shoulder. They stayed in that position for several long seconds, ending the hug with a tender kiss. "We should get back," said Michael as he straightened up and took the helm at the back of Brian's wheelchair, pushing him towards the rooftop elevator.
"One more day, Mikey, that's it. After that, I'm checking out AMA, I don't care what that Nazi cunt Doris has to say about it," said Brian.
"Okay well, don't kill me, but…" Michael trailed off nervously.
"What?" said Brian sharply.
"My mom wants you to come and stay with her so she can take care of you. She insisted," said Michael.
"Michael…" Brian whined in irritation.
"Hey, you know how she gets. There's no arguing with her," said Michael.
"How long?" asked Brian.
"A couple of days, tops. You can stay in my old room," said Michael.
"Fine," said Brian.
Michael looked confused. "What, you're gonna do it?"
"Yeah," said Brian quickly. "You got a problem with that?"
"No…I just thought you'd say no, that's all," said Michael, shrugging. "I have to warn, she's probably gonna tell you how think you've gotten and stuff you full of food."
"Sounds perfect. I could use a good meal after the scat they serve here," said Brian with a fake smile as Michael wheeled him into the elevator. The truth was Brian would do anything to avoid going home to his empty loft, even if that meant putting up with the overbearing antics of Debbie Novotny herself. He just wasn't ready to deal with the fact that Justin was out of his life for good.
TBC