"Every angel is terrifying." Rainer Maria Rilke Part Five Brian bolted upright in the middle of the night, eyes wide and staring, heart pounding as if it were trying to jackhammer its way through his sternum. "Fuck—" he huffed, "oh fuck, holy sh—" Lightning crashed outside the window, illuminating the loft in a flash of blue-white. He cringed as the sound brought back a fragment of the dream, a sharp crack ricochetting off naked concrete and steel; pallid cold skin and rivers of blood, running between his fingers, on his clothes and lips, dripping on the cold floor. Screaming panic. Justin. Something about Justin. "Brian?" Justin was here, he realized when the whispering voice penetrated his conciousness along with the soft rustle of sheets beside him. He felt hands slide through trickles of cold sweat on his back and stomach, and then the reassuring sleepy warmth of Justin's body curving against him. "It's just a storm," Justin mumbled. Brian heaved a sigh and settled back onto the pillows, putting a hand on the arm Justin had wrapped around his chest and the other around his back, drawing him closer. He shivered. "That weird dream again?" Justin asked. "Yeah." "Remember what it was this time?" Brian swallowed. "No." "Mmm." Justin kissed his chest then raised up to look at Brian's face, fingers stroking his cheek. "It's just a stupid dream. Doesn't mean anything." He yawned. "You should come to my prom with me tomorrow, it'll be fun. Get your mind off your nightmares." "Yeah for the ultimate nightmare," Brian whispered. Justin laughed softly and settled back against him, feeling hot against Brian's cold and clammy skin, warming him with an arm over his chest, a leg drawn over both of his. Brian felt the brush of eyelashes against his chest as Justin blinked, making him shiver again. Finally Justin maneuvered himself over until he lay on top of Brian, kissing his chest. "Brian, you're freaking out. Stop it." He let his lips move over Brian's face, planting soft kisses in a trail to his ear, pausing to whisper, "Fuck me, Brian. Do anything you want." He kissed his way back to Brian's lips, whispering against his open mouth. "Fuck me." Justin's tongue flickered against Brian's, then he smiled and moved lower, kissing his neck, chest and stomach, hands pressed flat against Brian's skin. Brian felt warm fingers curl around his cock, and the electrifying wetness of Justin's tongue as he flicked it around the head, snaking and teasing. Brian tensed, his hands reaching for Justin, caressing his neck and face, and moving into his hair. "Justin..." He felt his cock slide into the suctioning heat of Justin's mouth and leaned his head back, groaning, when he felt it go further, into the narrow pressure of the back of his throat, out and then back in again. Justin's curled fingers followed the up and down motions of his mouth, gliding over the slick head on the upstroke, his thumb brushing the slit. He let his other hand slide upwards, flat, fingers splayed, caressing Brian's stomach and chest almost possessively until Brian's hand moved up over his arm and their fingers twined. Brian squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he was going to come soon and at the same time not wanting to stop what Justin was doing. Just another minute, he thought. Fucking Christ... Almost at the last moment, he grabbed Justin's outstreched arm and pulled him off, dragging him upwards and then turning until Justin was underneath him. Brian kissed him, first softly and then almost aggressively, and Justin moaned as Brian sucked his tongue into his mouth. His hands moved over Justin's body, sliding and caressing, then groping and squeezing, pulling him closer and then grasping at him again because he still didn't seem close enough. Justin hooked his legs over Brians, drawing him in and pushing his hips against him as he moved and squirmed under him until they were both panting. "Wait," Brian said. He disentangled himself and reached to the console for a condom and lube, handing the foil packet to Justin. "Put it on me." Justin grinned and busied himself with the condom, flopping back down on the pillow after he'd rolled the thin latex over Brian's cock. He caught his breath, feeling the cool lube trickle down the crack of his ass, then smiled at Brian as it was warmed by Brian's probing fingers. Brian kissed him, sliding a finger inside him and pushing up to stroke it against his prostate, making Justin arch his back and gasp against his open mouth. Brian took his hand away and let his slick fingers slide over Justin's cock, making his legs fall open as he moved on top of him, kissing his neck and ears. "Oh my god, Brian, that feels so good," Justin whispered, wrapping his legs around Brian's waist and pressing down, pulling Brian against him. Brian pushed forward, entering him and then pausing, kissing Justin and pressing against his body's efforts to push him back out. Brian's hands circled Justin's waist, curving his back up slightly, and then he pushed all the way inside. Justin moaned as Brian fucked him and wrapped his arms around Justin's back and shoulders as he curled against Brian, forehead pressed to his chest, Brian's voice soft in his ear as he whispered Justin's name over and over. Justin was sure Brian wasn't aware he was doing that. He wondered if it was still the dream affecting him. He wrapped his arms around Brian's neck, pulling him closer. "I love you, Brian," he whispered. "I love you so fucking much." He let his head fall back when he felt Brian's lips on his neck, kissing and licking, and slid his fingers up to twine in Brian's hair, his whispers pleading. "Brian..." Brian's breathing came in hushed gasps against the soft skin of Justin's neck, and when he slid his tongue along the pulsing vein, Justin arched against him, tilting his head back even further. Brian gently scraped his incisors against the throbbing skin and then bit down, breaking it and pushing through, drawing back when he felt a warm trickle flow over his lips and tasted copper on his tongue. Justin's fingers tightened in his hair and his moans deepened as he felt Brian swallow, then the slightly stinging draw along his neck as Brian's mouth sucked and pulled for more, moving against him faster and thrusting harder into him. Brian drew back after a while, careful not to go very far, stopping long before he brought Justin anywhere near the edge of unconciousness. He felt Justin's hands on his face and leaned up to look down at him as Justin's fingers brushed against his mouth and chin, wiping away droplets of sweat and blood. Brian lowered himself and kissed him, hands sliding down Justin's sides and around his hips, gripping him tightly as he pushed into him. He felt Justin's hard cock against his stomach, the head dragging along his tense muscles as he moved against him. Brian wrapped one hand around it, feeling Justin's body twitch and then shudder as he came almost immediately, gasping and moaning Brian's name against his mouth. Brian felt himself start to come as well, groaning, his face pressed against Justin's shoulder, stopping himself just before he bit down again. He collapsed against Justin and they pressed together, gasping for breath, Brian's hands around Justin's head, fingers wound around strands of his hair. He raised himself up so as not to crush Justin under him, leaning their foreheads together. "You okay?" he whispered. Justin smiled. "Sure. More than okay." "I probably shouldn't have done that." "What? I asked you to." "No, I mean..." Brian grinned and touched the mark on Justin's throat. "That word you don't like." "Brian..." Justin rolled his eyes. He looked back at Brian, his fingertips tracing his face, wiping away beads of perspiration. "Cut it out." He grinned deviously. "Or I'll use the word you don't like, because that's why I asked you to do that, too." "Don't go to the prom tomorrow," Brian said suddenly, then bit his lip. "Why? I have to, I promised Daphne. Come with me, Brian...please? It'd be totally cool." "A threesome with your hag. I don't think so." "I don't think she'd mind that." "Fuck you." Justin laughed. ******* But Brian had gone. Of course he'd gone. He'd made up his mind to go the minute he saw the fringed scarf at the clothing boutique with Linds, white, elegant and silky, too perfect to pass up. He arrived late and the prom was well underway by the time he got there, everything about it just as boring and tacky as he'd anticipated. Everything except Justin. Brian had spun him around the dancefloor to a corny old song Brian knew had blared from the speakers of every prom since its recording, but it didn't matter. Justin was delirious with joy, smiling and virtually shining, beaming up at him. Brian had known he'd be pleased, but it came as a bit of a shock to him that he'd been the cause of so much exultation. Even more so when he found himself grinning back at Justin, caught up in his happiness, kissing him in front of everyone because nothing else mattered. "It's the best night of my life," Justin said later in the parking garage, smiling and laughing. "Even if it was ridiculously romantic," Brian said. It had been, he thought, and it still was – both of those things, though he didn't say so. He kissed Justin, whispering, "Later." "Later," Justin answered. He started walking away, the silk scarf Brian had draped around his shoulders grasped in both hands, then turned back again, laughing – elated, triumpant and a little disbelieving they'd actually done this, a final "fuck you" to the St. James Academy. Brian smiled, watching him retreat in the rear-view mirror of the jeep as he fumbled with his keys. He saw Justin lift the scarf over his head with both hands. A second later he was startled by the tall figure stepping into his line of vision, seeming to come out of nowhere, holding something he was raising over his head. Brian was out of the jeep and running toward Justin before he could think, and saw Justin turn, still smiling, when Brian screamed his name. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, surreal, and Brian found himself thinking how endlessly long the distance between him and Justin seemed – all of a sudden it seemed like miles. The figure looked back, startled by Brian's fast approach, then turned to Justin and swung. Brian heard the echoing crack and watched Justin crumple to the pavement. He thought how everything seemed to be taking so fucking long, and yet at the same time he thought it couldn't be happening at all. The man he'd seen swing the bat turned and Brian saw he wasn't a man at all, it was that kid, Hobbs, the one Justin had outed on Liberty Avenue as they were about to go into Babylon. Brian wrenched the bat out of his grasp and swung blindly, not even hearing the sound as it connected with Hobbs' shins and the kid's agonized scream as he fell. Brian hesitated a moment, tempted to smash it down again but he let it clatter to the ground and rushed to where Justin lay, eerily still. "No, no, no..." he muttered, grabbing Justin by the shoulders and turning him on his back. Streaks of blood on his face glistened red-black in the dim light, and when his head fell limply against Brian, he felt it splash over his hands and soak his clothing, warm and then heavy and cold. Brian realized he was screaming something, his hands wiping at the blood on Justin's face. There was no reaction aside from shallow breaths gurgling in his throat, the space of time between each one expanding, and Brian felt the warm wetness seep between his fingers and drip onto the concrete beneath them. Not him, he thought, and his heart seemed to detach itself from his body and plummet down an endless icy cold chasm. Please God, he thought, not him; I'd do anything. sBrian gritted his teeth and carefully tilted Justin's chin back, his fingertips tracing along his neck. Justin's pulse was weak as a thread and extremely fast. Brian closed his eyes, put his teeth there and bit down, feeling the skin give way after a short resistance. He felt the warm liquid seep into his mouth, but it wasn't the fast rush he was used to and he found he had to put in some effort while Justin's heart flailed, trying to make up in speed what it couldn't provide in pressure. Minutes seemed to stretch into hours and Brian feared it was taking much too long. Finally he drew back and pulled Justin's face forward to lie against his chest, and he saw his skin had gone from just pale to a whitish-grey color. For a panicked moment he was sure it was too late or that he'd gone too far, but then he heard Justin draw a breath, shallow, slow and rasping, but there. Brian's fingers tore at the bracelet made of strung cowrie shells around his wrist until he'd tugged it down enough to get at the pulse underneath. He felt a trickle and then a steady flow as he tore at the skin, and raised his hand to Justin's face, letting the heavy drops splash against his lips, where they seeped into his mouth and spilled sideways to run over his face, mingling with the streaks already drying there. "Justin," Brian hissed, giving him a small shake. "Justin, come on...." He felt the body in his arms jerk as if he'd startled him, and then Justin's nostrils flared as he drew a deeper breath and then another, lips parting. Brian pressed his wrist against Justin's mouth and heard him moan as if he were in pain, but he was swallowing. Brian almost sobbed with relief and Justin's eyes flashed open briefly, pupils huge and unfocused, but Brian felt him press his lips against the open wound and then Justin's fingers as they wrapped around his elbow softly. He pressed his forehead to Justin's, whispering to him, and then suddenly he heard shrill screams, the sound amplified as it bounced off the concrete walls. He looked up, startled, to see Daphne standing several yards away, staring at them, eyes wide and horrified. She caught Brian's gaze and clamped both hands over her mouth and the screeching faded to dull moans as she squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again to stare. "Daphne," Brian barked. "Call an ambulance – go." She seemed rooted to the spot, unmoving, but when Brian shouted at her again she whirled and ran toward the exit, the clatter of her footsteps receeding in the direction of the ballroom. The gentle suctioning pull of Justin's mouth had ceased and Brian took his wrist away, tugging the bracelet back down to cover the gash. Justin was moaning softly but his breathing was more regular, and Brian cradled him, face pressed against his cold skin, rocking him like a child and whispering to him. He wasn't aware of anything after that until he opened his eyes to see white-clad legs stop in front of them, and felt hands moving quickly but gently, loosening his grasp to take Justin away from him. ******* Brian sat, staring dully at the linoleum floor until he heard the soft squeak of shoes and felt Michael's hand on his shoulder. He felt his friend's arm go around him as he settled in the chair beside Brian, not speaking. Brian barely remembered calling him on his cell after they'd rushed Justin's gurney out of the ambulance and through the doors of the bay. "Michael," he'd said, his voice slurred, "it's Justin. I'm at the hospital. I did something terrible, Michael, I did something terrible to Justin." He knew Michael was already on his way there, at the same time he was listening to his friend's urgent questions and trying to get his thoughts straight enough to formulate answers that made some kind of sense. "It's not your fault," Michael was saying now, squeezing his hand, "it'll be alright – he'll be alright, you'll see." Brian blinked, feeling a tear cascade down his blood-smeared face and only dimly heard Michael's quiet reassurances. He knew better, it was his fault. He knew Justin would live, but that was because he couldn't die, not anymore. He wondered what Justin would think when he found that out, if one day he'd blame Brian and hate him for giving him what he'd asked for after all. Brian closed his eyes, thinking of a time when things really had been alright, when Justin's presence in his life had been just hours old, when he'd barely remembered the kid's name. You should have run, you silly little twat, Brian thought. Why didn't you run like I thought you would? His mind flashed on Justin's face that night, smiling and glowing, cocky, the way he'd grinned and set his jaw after he'd defied Michael and told him, "I'm going with him!" Brian caught Michael's confused glance and realized he was smiling. You'd better, he thought, you intrepid little fucker...you'd better.