"So what did the dean say?"
"Just asked if I felt that any of Brian's actions towards me have been inappropriate."
"And you said?"
"No, obviously. I said that Brian had never done anything inappropriate."
"So it's sorted then, nothing to worry about."
Justin didn't move.
"Justin, what happened, you look pale as a sheet."
"They suspended me."
"What, why?"
"Well, apparently they have some 'evidence' that needs to be examined and then, depending on the college boards decision, I may or may not be allowed to return."
"But … but that's so wrong. What evidence do they have?"
"I don't … I mean I…." Justin trailed off helplessly. He had no idea what he was trying to say or even if he was trying to say anything at all. "I need to see Brian," he decided.
"Do you really think that's a good idea? People are going to be on the lookout now. You have to lie low for a while."
"But he'll know what to do," Justin insisted.
"So do I. Leave it alone and give it up. I can't even believe it was still going on. Why don't you just stick with Ethan?"
"Daphne," Justin laughed, in a way that said 'don't be daft'.
"But there are hundreds of amazing guys out there Justin, why can't you just give them a chance?"
"Because I want Brian. I'd virtually moved in over there and now this has happened."
"Well, even if this does sort itself out, you need to be more careful."
--
"You have twelve new messages. First, new message, received today at 8:32 am: Hi Brian, it's me. Didn't see you at Woody's last night, is everything okay? Call m- message deleted. Next, new message, received today at 8:34 am: That last call was off Micha- message deleted. Next, new message, received today at 9:24am: Briaaaaaan, it's Michael. Is everything okay? Haven't heard from you all morning. I just want you to know I'm at the store n- message deleted. Message received today at 10:34am: Brian … call me. I'm getting worrie- message deleted. Message received today at 11.01am: Brian it's - message deleted. Message received today at 11.15am: Hi. The stores a bit qu- message deleted. Message received tod- message deleted. Message deleted. Message deleted … you have no new messages."
"Give it five minutes," Brian replied angrily. Then he wanted to slap himself because he'd actually just engaged in a conversation with the fucking voicemail woman.
He sighed heavily and slumped into his sofa, still glaring at the phone with an intent dislike. It would ring any second, it had been twenty-five minutes since the last call and there was no way Michael would wait a whole half hour before pestering him to see if he was okay.
Right on cue, the phone began to ring. Brian heaved himself up and picked up the receiver.
"Fuck off," he said politely before hanging up and lying back down. He waited a total of thirty-five seconds before it rang again. Well, he wasn't answering this time, he couldn't have made it any clearer than that. If Michael wanted to spend the rest of his life talking to Brian's voicemail, that was his own decision.
"You have reached voice mail." Brian sighed, he was getting sick of that smug woman's perfectly pronounced English. "Please leave a message after the tone." The beep sounded and Michael's whiney, pleading voice filled the room.
"Brian, I know you're there. Pick up. I heard you've been suspended from lecturing and I…" Brian picked up the receiver and replaced it again. The voice cut out. If the phone rang again, he vowed he would pull the contraption from it's socket and throw it out of the goddamn window.
He couldn't believe Michael would betray him like that. He knew Michael loved him. He'd known it forever, he'd known it ever since he knew what being gay meant but he'd never expected him to be so petty and pathetic as to risk Brian's entire career just because he was jealous.
He knew Michael would be over later, trying to explain his side of the story and Brian knew he had to calm down before then. He needed to play that imminent conversation perfectly, just enough anger with just enough sexiness and love and it would be perfect but he wasn't ready to do it yet. If he saw Michael now he'd rip his goddamn head off and spit it in the trash. He needed to get all this tension and anger out of his system. He needed to fuck. He needed the baths.
--
"So the prom-thing's coming up," Ethan said, running his hand through Justin's sweaty hair that was resting on his abdomen as they curled up in bed together.
"It's not a prom it's just a money-making farce," Justin sighed. "Get all the students to the grimiest club in Pittsburgh and make lots of money off the prevalent, alcoholic, drinking-culture that's built up amongst America's teens."
"So you're not going then?"
"No, I'm going."
"It should be good," Ethan smiled, his hand stopping in Justin's hair, "Cyndi Lauper's meant to be playing."
"Cool," Justin breathed out contentedly, and moved his hand on to Ethan's, encouraging him to resume his hair-stroking. However much he wished he was with Brian at this moment, he still loved having his hair fingered and fondled.
"I never really liked her," Ethan sighed, doing what Justin asked; didn't he always?
"Because she's not Mozart?"
"No, because she's not very contemporary and her songs have no meaning."
"Mmm," Justin hummed. "You're just a music snob."
"I'm not a music snob," Ethan protested with a chuckle. They were surrounded by a comfortable silence for a while. Justin aloud the peacefulness to engulf him, he didn't get this with Brian. Then, of course, Ethan ruined it by saying; "So … you gonna go to the ball with me?"
Justin craned his neck so he could look at Ethan, who was smiling nervously back, his dark eyes terrified of rejection even after months of dating. Justin felt a pang of guilt, Ethan was supposed to be his boyfriend, he knew how badly he'd treated him but it was only at moments like these that he actually thought about it.
"Of course we're going together," Justin sighed and Ethan beamed back at him and leant over to kiss him eagerly.
As they pulled apart, Justin's phone rumbled somewhere on the table and Justin leapt out of bed to read his text. One new message from Brian Mob; 'come over as soon as you can - got good news, wanna celebrate?' Justin beamed as he read it.
"Something good happened?" Ethan asked from the bed as he watched his boyfriend's face light up in a way he'd never seen before.
"I think so," Justin nodded as he tapped in his reply, 'b right there xxx'. "I've gotta go."
"You've always gotta go," Ethan sulked. "I feel like you never just wanna stay with me and hang out."
"You know that's not true," Justin lied, pulling on his t-shirt and kissing Ethan on the temple. "I'd love to spend more time with you but this is important."
"It's always important," Ethan complained, as he located Justin's jeans and through them at him, half helpfully and half in anger.
"Yeah," Justin said firmly, pulling on his pants, "it is."
And with that he pressed a kiss onto Ethan's forehead and left.
--
The door was open when he arrived at Brian's. Justin called tentatively, he didn't really want to disturb Brian in the middle of whatever (or whoever) he was doing but Justin needn't have worried. Brian was just in the bedroom trying on ties, when he called Justin in.
"What are you doing?" Justin asked.
"Which goes better?" Brian asked. "This one," he held up a charcoal coloured tie against his black shirt, "or this one," he held another charcoal tie up against his black shirt.
"They look exactly the same," Justin smiled.
"Call yourself a gay man?" Brian asked. "This one," he threw the first one at Justin, who caught it deftly, "is Armani. But this one," he began to place the second tie around his neck, "is Gucci. There's a huge difference."
"Yeah, if you're a label queen."
"Which … I am," Brian smiled, turning to face Justin in his suit. "So, how do I look?"
"Hot," Justin smiled. "What's the occasion?"
"A certain middle-aged, bald Englishman is going to offer me my job back tomorrow."
"Dean Vance?"
"No, Debbie from the diner. Of course Vance," Brian scorned.
"How did that happen?"
"It seems the man who made up the vicious rumours about yours and my extra-curricular activities, has retracted the statement after he realised it would cost him the love of his life."
"Huh?" Justin asked.
"It's not important," Brian shook his head before plucking his other tie from Justin's fingers placing it around the kid's neck and pulling him in close. "What is important is that tomorrow, I will be allowed to continue to change the world one bratty, stuck-up, rich-kid at a time and you can continue to learn about … whatever it is you take from my lessons." He leant in and kissed Justin gently. "So," he said when he eventually drew his lips away, "fancy celebrating?"
--
Brian was taking a piss and Justin was attempting to draw himself in a tux.
"What's that?" Brian asked, as he flopped down next to Justin, cigarette hanging between his lips.
"It's just a …."
"Is that you?"
"Well …"
"In a suit?"
"I, er, yeah."
"Why?"
"I'm trying to imagine what I'll look like at this ball, prom-thing thing."
"Ah yes. That shit," he lit the cigarette, and offered it to Justin, who refused. "Where's it being held?"
"I don't know, some fucking breeders bar in town."
Brian nodded softly and took a long drag from his cig. "You going with Ian?"
"Yeah," Justin sighed. "Wish I wasn't though. I'd rather go with you."
"That wouldn't help our 'we're not fucking' claim," Brian smiled.
"But it would be the best 'fuck you' ever."
"Worth sacrificing your entire future for?"
Justin looked at Brian carefully and then whispered, "sometimes I think it is."
Brian just stared back, the intensity of the moment was crushing him and he didn't know how to react so he spoke the truth, "you're pathetic," before drawing the kid into a searing kiss.
--
"Is that what you're wearing?" Brian asked, as Justin twirled in front of the mirror.
"Yeah," he answered indignantly. "What's wrong with it?"
"I haven't got that long," Brian answered, he just walked over and un-tucked Justin's shirt a bit, then he pulled the trouser legs a bit so that they appeared slightly longer. He tidied the jacket up and removed Justin's tie.
"We have to wear ties," the kid protested. Brian just flapped a hand at him to get him to shut up before pulling the discarded Armani tie from last week from his wardrobe and putting it around Justin's neck. He tied it for him and they stared into each other's eyes before kissing softly. Then Brian moved out the way and held Justin in front of the mirror, wrapping his arms around him from behind and resting his chin on Justin's shoulder.
"You look hot," Brian grinned and Justin beamed back at the older man's reflection. They stayed like that for a moment and Justin almost felt like he was getting a glimpse of what things could be like in a parallel universe where he was and art student and Brian was a … fucking advertising executive or something.
"I wish I could go with you," he sighed.
"Well you can't," Brian said cooly, pulling himself away from the kid and going to the bathroom. He stopped as he reached the door and turned to smile a bit. "But I will be there."
Justin's neck snapped round to face his lover. "You will?"
"I'm chaperoning."
"You are?"
"Vance made me as part of my making a better name for myself."
Justin just cocked an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak but Brian just took the opportunity to kiss him deeply. "Now, go to Daphne's. I'll see you later."
--
Daphne had some kind of weird roller contraption in her hair, which Justin couldn't understand. Wasn't her hair already curly? The answer was yes it was but it was the wrong kind of curly. Justin just rolled his eyes and flopped down on a seat in the kitchen. He was glad he was gay, girls were so weird.
"You're pathetic," he muttered as she rushed around making a drink, claiming her throat was dry because she was so nervous and excited and happy and animated. It was like she couldn't keep still but she did stop when Justin had said that.
"What?" he asked, noting her semi-bemused, semi-concenred expression.
"Nothing. You just …."
"What?"
"You're starting to sound like him now."
Justin just pulled a face and turned his attention to the somewhat sticky table. He traced his fingers over the strangely bumpy surface of the table waiting for company. Every now and then Daphne would walk in with a different piece of jewellery or a different pair of shoes to get his opinion, not that he was being very helpful. He just kept shrugging and being non-committal with things like 'fine' and 'yeah'. She told him he was being a miserable dick, not that she needed to, he already knew that. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get excited about a college ball with a bunch of breeders, who'd probably judge him for taking Ethan and would laugh if they tried to dance together … not that he'd want to dance with Ethan of course. He'd want to dance with Brian but he knew Brian would just be slumped in a corner or propping up a bar.
"Hey! You're here," Ethan smiled as he came into the kitchen and pressed a kiss to Justin's lips. "You look hot."
"Mmm, you too," Justin agreed and Ethan did look hot. He'd have been enough for Justin to take a second look but he wouldn't have changed direction to go after him. Ethan was beaming as he started to tell him about a new piece he was working on for an upcoming concert. He was saying things like, "this is the best I've ever played" and "you're my muse Justin" and Justin was starting to feel those pangs of guilt twitching in his gut. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He would never have done anything like this before he went to college. He'd believed in love and romance and monogamy and then he'd met Brian and all his morals had disappeared and now, here he was, willing to do absolutely anything to be with Brian, even hurt his friend … his boyfriend.
They chatted a while as they waited for Daphne and when she arrived they complimented her on her dress. It was orange and a shade of red, like the sunset. She had a tiara and diamante's through her hair, on her jewellery and scattered across her dress.
"Ready to go?" she grinned and the two boys nodded dumbly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you guys were turning straight," she giggled.
--
Justin allowed Ethan to hold his hand as they entered the club. He could still feel something digging in his gut and he felt worse than ever about what he was doing to Ethan. Maybe it was time to stop it. He was sure he could find a way to be gentle if he really concentrated. Or maybe blunt would be better, stop all hopes of anything happening. He sighed and wriggled his fingers from Ethan's hand. The self-confessed musical genius looked confused for a moment but Justin just whispered something about getting a drink from the bar.
Justin spotted him almost straight away but even if he hadn't the shout of, "Taylor!" would have alerted him to his lecturer's presence at the end of the bar.
"C'mere," Brian slurred, gesturing Justin towards him.
"You're drunk," Justin pointed out dimly.
"Little bit," Brian said and then barked a weird kind of laughter, before pulling Justin really close and whispering in his ear "and high." Then he pushed him away roughly and laughed again. "Can't let Vance see us talking, he'll think we're fucking."
"Mmm," Justin nodded. He was a little confused. Brian looked as though he could pass out any second as he demanded another drink.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Justin asked.
"No," Brian answered, smiling seductively at the man behind the bar. "You can never have enough." There was no mistaking the flirting and the barman didn't disappoint, telling Brian that the beer was on the house.
"Excellent," Brian said loudly. "If you were in my lesson, I'd give you top grades." The barman blushed and walked off. Brian lifted his beer in Justin's direction and then took a long gulp, slamming the half full bottle on the bar he let out a self-satisfied 'ahhh' noise and slumped uselessly against the bar.
"How much have you had?" Justin asked, after ordering the drinks for himself, Daphne and Ethan.
"Enough to get me through this shit hetero-hop for fucking eighteen year olds."
Justin leaned in close and whispered, "I thought you liked fucking eighteen year olds."
Brian barked the weirdest, high-pitched laughter and downed the rest of his drink.
"I think you should stop now," Justin winced as Brian allowed his head to fall on to his arms that were crossed ahead of him on the bar.
"I think you should get back to your little wifey and … I'll be fine," Brian said, ordering another drink. Justin watched as a different barman nervously refused to serve him and watched as Brian queened out about it. Saying ridiculous clichéd statements that only sound good when you're wasted out of your mind like, "do you fucking know who I am?"
The barman, it seemed, either didn't know or didn't care who he was and Brian had to content himself with nothing more than water or the remainder of the ball. Despite the efforts of the barman who fancied him to slip the lecturer something stronger.
Justin went back to Ethan and Daphne. They danced, they jumped up and down to all the best Cyndi Lauper songs. They had fun, lots of fun. Justin was actually beginning to really enjoy himself until he saw Brian being as good as dragged from the premises by two of the other lecturers. He was struggling to stand up straight but Justin heard him claim he was going to drive home as he searched his pockets for his keys. Daphne heard it too, so she wasn't at all surprised when Justin excused himself and made in the direction of the toilets only to veer away at the last second and head for the car park.
Brian was on his third attempt at getting the key into the lock of his car when Justin found him. He kept pushing the jagged metal teeth blindly against the plastic handle.
"FUCK!" he yelled eventually, frustrated at his own inabilities he threw the keys away from him. They clattered noisily at Justin's feet and he stooped to pick them up.
"You dropped these," he grinned as he watched Brian fumble about with a cigarette and lighter. He'd obviously rehearsed this many times whilst drunk because he did it with maximum precision.
"Mmm," he mumbled around his cig. "Give them back."
"I don't think you should be driving in your condition."
"What are you … the fucking cops?"
"No, but I don't want you to kill yourself … or someone else," Justin sighed, placing the keys in his pocket and strolling away. Brian was on him in seconds, dragging him close and pinning him to his chest with his one arm, whilst his other hand carelessly fished about in Justin's pockets. From not far away, the display was watched with disgust …
"Brian," Justin moaned, though he was giggling a bit as he wriggled out of the vice-like hold and stepped away. "Stop!" He demanded, "I'll bring them around tomorrow."
Brian glared at him but even his alcohol addled mind could see that Justin wasn't going to back down so he shrugged and took a few staggering steps backwards.
"Fine," he said. "But you better bring them round first thing young man. First thing."
Justin just nodded a little. He knew he'd have to take them around first thing because he had a strong suspicion that Brian wouldn't remember this in the morning and would wonder what the hell had happened to his beloved jeep. Justin couldn't help grinning as he walked away, despite his drunken, drugged-up ways, spending any time with Brian Kinney made him leave with a smile on his face.
Then he heard a shout. The tone was so strange, so fearful, so primal that Justin felt it in his gut more than heard it. He turned around and watched as a fist connected with his face. He hit the cold tarmac immediately and had just about registered the pain when he felt a shoe connect with his ribs, then his head, his legs. Pain tore through him, pounding in various parts of his body. He felt like he was dying. He curled up and protected his head but he could still feel every kick and every stamp. He actually began to wonder if he was going to die. Would this pain, this constant stabbing pain ever end? Then one final white hot attack to his head and everything went blank....
DUN, DUN DUH!!!
lol - couldn't resist ... because i'm evil! =D
xx