Disclaimer: I own none of the people/places/thingys mentioned in the following. There. Ya happy?
P.S. I got a little angsty at the end of the last one. Unless lots of people really liked it that way, and they tell me it, then I can tell you it wasn't supposed to come out like that, and I'll probably be explaining it a little better later in the thing. So...get reviewing, people! Whee!
New note-made 23:52, 28 Oct 2005-Sorry about the delay, but I needed inspiration. Luckily, buying season 1 box set did it! And sorry about the end. Andrew is a horny little bunny...
Psychiatrists Notes - Bree Van De Kamp
Bree was unable to make her appointment this week, due to 'unforeseen circumstances'. No other explaination was given.
Justin cradled his head in his hands. "John, why am I doing this?"
John looked over from the closet in the corner of Justins room. After he'd got home, Justin's resolve about going to meet the other wives had shrunk, and John was trying to encourage Justin, while trying to find something suitable for the occasion. John didn't really know what to classify the occaision as, but he thought the outfit he'd picked out was pretty snappy.
Justin looked up at him from the bed, where he was lying in a towel. "I mean, really. Why am I doing this? I don't even like Mrs Van De Kamp, not really. Not even her own children like her. Why should I?"
John sighed. The conversation had already happened more than twice. "You're doing this, not because you want to help Mrs Van De Kamp, although that is an indirect effect. You're doing this because unless you want not to tell anyone you're gay, ever, then you need to start somewhere. And like Mrs Scolese said, this is a pretty good place. Of course, if you don't want to tell anyone," he motioned towards the open door, "closet's just here. Seems like you'd fit."
Justin sat up, and threw the pillow at him. "Not helping! Sarcasm is not necessary!"
"Awww, and when I was getting so good at it, too? You know, that towel's actually better than the outfit I've chosen. I agree with you. You should just go in that. That'd make a simply fabulous impression on the wives!" John limp-wristed at Justin, before ducking the book.
"John, I'm warning you! Just because I'm wearing a towel doesn't mean I can't take you in a fight!" Justin frowned, and put both hands on his hips. John collapsed into laughter.
"Jesus, could you be any gayer? And by the way? Just because you're wearing a towel doesn't mean you CAN take me in a fight. You can't normally, why should a couple of yards of flannel make any difference?"
Justin growled, and leapt off the end of the bed, but John ducked, and still laughing made it to the door. "You're going to wear what's on the chair. And your towel's falling down."
Flipping one finger at him, Justin stood up, trying to hold the towel up around his waist with one hand. He cast an eye over the things John had picked out. Grudgingly, he admitted they were what he'd have chosen himself, and quickly got changed. Drying his hair on the towel, he wandered into the main room of the apartment, only to find John waiting. "Don't think that you're coming along. Just cos you're screwing one of them doesn't mean you have a monogrammed invite to this." Justin threw the wet towel over the back of a chair, before John picked it up and, sighing, hung it over a radiator.
"Actually, I am. Mrs Scolese said I could. And besides, I'm your friend. I'll be there to hold your hand all the way through it."
Justin narrowed his eyes at him, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that squirmed with joy at the thought of John holding his hand. "I think you'll find that I'm perfectly capable of conducting this by myself. I don't need anyone to help me with it."
John shrugged. "Suit yourself." Sitting down, he flicked on the TV and started to undo his shirt.
Torn between leaving then, and waiting to see John take his shirt off, Justin opened his mouth, then shut it, sighing. "Look, if you really want to come, you can."
John grinned, and stood back up. "Heh, I knew you'd let me go. You couldn't go through it without me. I know that, and you know that."
Justin half smiled, as John grabbed his keys and turned the TV off. He would feel better having John go along with him, and he was very glad Mrs Scolese would be there too. Somehow, earlier, he'd felt sort of safe talking to her, like his mom. Only better, because she knew about it, and his real mom was still trying to set him up with the girl next door. That was one of the reasons he was going through with this tonight. No matter how much he agonised about it, or complained to John, he knew that in less than half an hour, he'd be sitting in Mrs Scolese's kitchen, and he'd be doing it. Being brave.
Gabrielle nursed a margherita in one hand, while playing with one of Carlos' old stress balls that had been in the desk, along with the vodka. After she'd sent John off home to help Justin only a couple of hours ago, she'd been mentally screaming about what she was doing. She'd wanted to call it all off, and just spend the evening getting smashed, and then skinny-dipping in the hot tub. She wasn't really sure why, exactly, but it could have had something to do with trying to prove to herself that she was too immature to have a kid. It would have worked, too.
But instead, she was still here, only a little way along drunk, enough to still be classified Dutch courage rather than tipsy. The other wives knew they were coming for something to do with Bree, although when Gabrielle had called Lynette's house she'd been subjected to the three boys high on cookies in the background and poor Lynette rambling about Tom being cut up and hidden under the paving stones if he wasn't home in the next ten minutes. Gabrielle still didn't understand why she'd got rid of the nanny. Sure, her husband had fancied a bit, but the girl had got the job done! If Gabrielle's husband had been doing that, (although, she reminded herself, she'd never, ever be having children) she'd have been paying the nanny extra!
Susan had been sitting at home, dejected. Mike was away doing a 'big plumbing job', which Gabrielle had taken to interpreting as 'He's away, possibly mixed up with a criminal gang and has a fifty percent chance of not coming home, but I find denial is the best way to deal with it'. The woman sure had some staying power. She momentarily considered her two friends, before nodding once to herself, and going into the kitchen to make up some more margheritas for when they got over. If she felt bad enough to need one, she could only imagine how her two friends would feel after their respective days.
She'd only just finished mixing when the first knock sounded on her door. It was Susan. The woman walked in with a sad smile. "I couldn't stand being in that house any more."
Gabrielle patted her on the back. "Was it really that lonely?"
Susan looked at her with incomprehension, before shaking her head. "No, the loneliness I can take. It was Bree's daughter. Crying. Again. Loudly." She glanced imploringly at Gabrielle. "Tell me we're going to be sorting that out. I need sleep! Julie thinks she's the only one being kept awake by it! And it's really killing my sex drive too. I mean, do you know how off-putting it is to just be getting into it -"
"Susan, sharing time is over now. Please. A little too much information." Susan blushed, and Gabrielle shook her head. "You look like you need drink. I've been making margheritas. I'll go get you one. Stay here."
Susan went into the living room, and Gabrielle went to pour the drink. Just as she'd come back, and was handing one to Susan, another knock came. She glanced down at Susan, who shrugged. "It's too early for Lynette. She'll be at least fifteen minutes late."
Opening the door, Gabrielle found Justin and John both standing there. "Good, you're both here. Justin, go through." She almost pulled him in, and then pushed him into the living room. Then she leant closer to John. "Susan's here."
He looked at her with incomprehension. "Isn't that good? I thought you wanted all the wives here for this."
"Well, I did. But I haven't told Susan that we're still seeing each other. That you're still...tending to my clematis." She layered the last phrase with meaning, but John didn't get the pun.
"Well, today is a day for telling people things. Why should it matter what she thinks?"
Gabrielle thought for a second. John's parents knew now, and even if his mother didn't like it much, at least Susan was now absolved of all physical connection with their son. She should technically be fine about it...but still. "I suppose. But wait with me until Lynette's here, okay?"
John shrugged. "Fine, then. I feel guilty about just letting Justin go in there all by himself though..." They looked through into the sitting room, where Susan and Justin, both with their backs to Gabrielle and John, sat on the couch as far apart as it was possible to be.
Gabrielle shrugged. "Meh. What can you do? Come on. I have margheritas waiting to be poured in the kitchen."
In the living room, Justin could sense the tension. Someone was going to have to speak, or make eye contact, and the minute they did the room was going to get even more unbearable. He glanced over at Susan, who chose that exact moment to look over at him. Their looks slid past each other with horrible embarrasment at the timing, and both gave a quick polite smile and went back to studying their feet and the wallpaper. Then Susan drew a breath, and he knew it was over.
"So...do you garden for Gabrielle?" she asked, a bright smile floodlighting her face, making it seem all the more awkward. Justin inwardly grimaced, while translating that into a mirror of her smile outwards.
"No. I did, but John takes care of all her needs now." Her face drooped, and Justin realised what he'd said. Aware that to keep talking would only get everyone into more trouble, he couldn't stop as his mouth rattled on. "Not in the bedroom, I meant the garden! I'm sure he does whatever she needs wherever she needs it. Oh, no, I didn't mean that. Not like that. I...I'm going to stop."
"I shouldn't have left you two alone, should I." Gabrielle was making a statement, not asking a question. She walked in from where she'd been standing just by the door, and handed Susan a drink. "Neck it. You need it." Then she turned to Justin. "You don't get any. If this is you sober..."
Susan sat up. "Hold on for just one moment here. Are you still seeing John? Even after all the trouble he's caused?"
Gabrielle sighed. "Susan. Look. Drink the nice drink, and don't think about it any more, okay?"
"I don't see how I'm going to be able to just forget about this..." She took a sip of her margherita, and shock momentarily registered. Slowly she sank back into the sofa. "Oh, that's a good margherita."
Gabrielle smiled. "It should be. I'm not just a pretty face. I made it extra powerful, so as to help with John. Mention if you need another. Should help get us past the awkward moments."
Susan smiled, her eyelids closing slightly. "Mmmm..."
The doorbell went again, heralding Lynette's arrival. Gabrielle opened it, and the mother almost collapsed through the door. "You'd better have some booze ready for me, Gabrielle. Those kids...take my ovaries."
Wordlessly, Susan passed over her already empty glass, and Gabrielle went to refill it and get Lynette hers. Beckoning, she led the boy into the kitchen. Justin looked at her. "Yeah. I didn't think it was a good idea to let me stay in there either."
"Mmm. That was what I needed you for. But seeing as you're in here, take the drinks around." SHe shoved a silver tray into his hands.
"I'm not your waiter!"
"Hey, be glad I'm not making you wear an apron!"
Justin looked down, counting four drinks. "Hey, where's mine?"
Gabrielle looked over, one painstakingly plucked eyebrow raised. "Because I can't trust you not to blurt things out when you're sober? Because we need to be informed of things you won't be able to say tipsy? Because you're young?"
"John's getting one..." Justin grumbled.
"John's getting a lot of things you aren't, dear. Get over it, and get used to it. Now go."
Justin narrowed his eyes momentarily, and went through. Susan took her second drink with a lazy smile, and Lynette threw her a suspicious glance before taking her glass as through it were about to explode. "How strong is this, out of interest? I'll need to walk across the street after this. Will I still be able to?"
Justin looked into the remaining drinks. "...honestly? Most likely not. It seems strong enough to strip the paint from wood. Mrs Meyer has only had one, and she's already like that." He motioned to Susan, who was crooning to her booze.
Lynette pondered, then shrugged. "Eh. I'll stumble."
Gabrielle and John came in too, and each took a glass, before sitting. Gabrielle smiled across at everyone else, before motioning. "I suppose you all want to find out what I wanted you all here for. We've all seen a little of what's happening to Bree, but no one really knows. Except...", she looked meaningfully over, "young Justin here. Justin?"
Justin took a breath, and started his tale.
As Andrew tapped the phone on the windowsill, his frown got deeper and deeper. Justin called every day, every evening, always with the same pleading tone in his voice. Just checking up on him. That he was at home. And if he wasn't, he'd leave one little message, 'just to say hi'. It bugged him that the boy kept checks on him, that he felt the need to talk to him every day. In fact, yesterday he would probably have given a lot to escape from those. Sure, sex was good, but the calls, the whiny, pleading calls, those got annoying. However, it annoyed him all the more that today, the hours were dragging on and the phone was not ringing. Not even a whisper.
He snarled, and threw the phone to the floor. How DARE he not call? What was wrong with the boy? Did he suddenly think he could just stop seeing him? Especially considering the way he'd just snuck out that morning. "I gave him a night of mindblowing sex, and he thinks that he can just run off, without even saying goodbye, or even good morning?" Andrew muttered. He glared at the neighbour who glanced up to look through his window from theirs. Flipping the bird, he turned away from the window and threw himself full length on the bed.
He knew that he could be an asshole sometimes. Every time he was with Justin, for some reason he couldn't stop himself from saying something. Something that just ruined the moment. He could feel Justin tense each time, and he wished he could apologise, but he just kept going. And that stunt he'd pulled yesterday, god. That must have screwed Justin up. It was just...he knew his mother was screwed up, and he'd be supportive, but he couldn't. Not after what she'd said to him, and not after what she'd done on the night of his fathers death. He hadn't told Justin about that bit, he hadn't told anyone. It was his little secret, a family thing. Kept between him, Danielle and Mom. One of the few things that still bound them together.
Andrew turned over. He refused to think about his family. Instead he turned his mind back to Justin. Only that morning they'd been together, on this bed. Mom had changed the sheets already, probably more than twice, but he could still smell the other boy, if only in his mind. Feel his skin, the warmth coming off him, body heat being the only thing keeping him warm, since the sheets had been kicked off the end of the bed already. Andrew remembered Justins skin under his fingers, his hair being tousled by a soft hand, the sensation of his mouth around Justins...
Andrew reached down, pushing his hand into his jeans. Eyes shut, he gently rubbed his hand across the length inside, imagining Justin underneath his fingers. He was the submissive one in the relationship, always the one on his knees, so to speak. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, almost physically feeling Justin still inside him. With the dreaming, and the fact the memories were still fresh in his mind, the moment was coming quick. Moaning quietly, he writhed, leaving rumples on the bedsheet from his legs. Slowly he spread them, trying to imagine what Justin would feel like between them, actually being in him. They'd not been all the way yet, but it was something that they were working up to. Until then, Andrew could dream, and he did. Regularly.
"...and that's basically what happened this morning. And last night, I suppose as well. I told you about what happened then as well, didn't I?" Justin looked around at the shocked, awed, disgusted and confused faces, and decided he must have done. And that was just Susan.
"So...heh...you know the whole story now, huh? What do you think? I mean, not about Andrew and me. Advice on what I should do there probably isn't your area of expertise. I know one of your stepfathers was gay, Susan, but it still doesn't give you the best viewpoint. Maybe one of your sons is gay, Mrs Scavo?" Just stop, just stop, why won't my mouth just stop? "You have about a one in three chance of one of them being that way, although I've heard people say that if you were on the pill before coming off it and then getting pregnant it increases the likelihood of one of them being a queen, because it's something about extra female hormones being present when the child is developing, and that's what the Pill does, creates an overdose of oestrogen, yeah, I'm learning about it in Biology-"
Gabrielle kicked him in the crotch. As he keeled over, gasping, she looked down on him with pity. "Sorry, Justin. Desperate times, right? It was the only one I could think of that would shut you up quickly enough."
"But...gasp...couldn't you just have said stop?"
"It had got past that point, Justin. And besides, I think Lynette was about to go for them too. At least this way you still have a chance of having kids." She made her wire thin smile. "Though I guess that's a little obslete, huh?"
Susan looked at Lynette in confusion, who shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm still stuck on the fact that Bree's family isn't perfect. Well, not so much stuck on as still mentally gloating over."
Susan opened her mouth, then shut it again. "Okay, so am I. That doesn't make it right."
John sat amongst the confusion throwing back the last of his margherita. Justin looked up at him from the floor. "What you doing?"
"I'm trying to escape fcrom this entire subject, and getting smashed looks like the one option still available to me. Other than suicide."
Gabrielle looked around at the assembled, and sighed. "There should have been more vodka in the drink. I never put enough vodka in the drink..." she muttered. She glared at Justin. "Come on. Get back up. No need to spend all of your time on your knees, much as you may enjoy it."
He crawled to his feet. "For your information, I'm usually the dominant one," he muttered.
She looked around, the eyebrow almost disappearing into her hairline. "Erm. Ew?"
Turning back, she clapped her hands once. "Ahem. Attention please?" Slowly order restored, and Gabrielle looked at the other two wives. "So...you know why we brought you here tonight. Now we should really discuss-"
"Actually, Gabrielle...you've not once mentioned why you actually want us here. You started by saying something about Bree, and what was happening to her recently, then we got a lecture about how not to let our children grow up. Well, alright, one about...the blonde, but I got a lot of stuff from that about what not to let Parker, or any of the others, ever, ever do." Lynette looked at Susan, who's eyes were still darting back and forth in confusion.
Gabrielle sighed, and threw her arms down by sides in frustration. "Okaaay, so I credit you with a little too much speed. We have to help Bree."
"We know that, Gabrielle. But, like we've seen, we can't do anything-"
"But he can." Gabrielle interrupted. "Justin can. She'll let him in. No one else, only him. Since...since Rex passed away, we've tried to give her the support, but we can't get her the help she needs. However, as we hear, Justin can. Or rather, he is the help she needs. We're going to back him up, give him stuff to use. We don't know what she'll need, or what he'll need to help her. But we're going to do it, and we're going to do it right."
The two other housewives looked at each other with apprehension in their eyes. Susan sighed. "Bree would do the same for us, I suppose."
Lynette rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like we'll ever be in the same situation." Susan reached over and gave her a gentle slap on the arm. Lynette sighed. "But sure, I guess we could help. Give the kid a hand." She gave Justin a distracted smile, while Susan still furrowed her brow. Out of confusion rather than annoyance or anything else, though.
Justin looked over at Gabrielle. The woman had a triumphant look in her eyes, and as he gazed, she glanced at him, and raised her glass in salute. "Happy hunting, Justin" she whispered across the room.