Its a corner that you turn Its a lesson that you learn in time Its a worry that you feel Another scar that you conceal From sight Have I been away too long for me to say? Have I been away too long for things to change? Brian’s POV Well crutches were fun for about four minutes, then my pits started burning. The stomp and swing, as the she-devil nurse described it to me, is killing my shoulders. I subtly massage my armpit, hoping I don’t have to endure this abuse too much longer. My mother dropped me off for my first day back to school, I demanded to go back on Friday, two days after the surgery because I was bored out of my freaking mind. Justin came over to chat and make out as much as he could but laying around was not as much fun when you can hardly get back up. At school it was really hard to fall back into my normal routine. The team was rightfully sheepish but Chris acted as if nothing happened, which kinda pissed me off. Cynthia was babying me and wanted to feed me, I know I have to play along but Christ woman! But the hardest thing of all was having to ignore Justin again. I know it sounds shitty when I say it, but I have to for both our sakes. In gym some jackass pushed him down while the class was running and I was talking to Coach Schinto about the game and my injury. Usually in gym I could preoccupy any bullies and keep them away from Justin, but now that I'm exempt, it’s going to be a lot harder. I managed to catch up to him after class and he said it was no big deal, that he was used to it, but goddammit, I do not want him to be accustomed to being pushed around and being treated like crap. What I want, what I don’t want. So many things. So many fucking things. I want Justin to be happy and safe, I want to kill Craig Taylor with my own hands, I want Cynthia to fall off the face of the earth, I want Debbie to be happy and find a man, I want a life together with Justin, I want my parents to retire and be happy, I want to be all better, I want everything to be all better. I drop my head in my hands and look up to the clock, this will be the longest five minutes of my life, I guarantee it. What the hell was I thinking, coming back to school before I had to; for someone so hot I can sure be a dumbass. The teacher drones on and on about some subject I lost track of a long time ago. I want to bang my head on the wall, and I would if it would make time go any faster. It’s at times like these when I wish I had Justin’s talent for art. I could just go into my little world and sketch like he does. I remember one day he told me he was late for school because he absolutely had to draw something and time flew by too quickly. I smile a little, thinking about his lithe form squatting down onto my cock, we definitely will be making a pit stop before he drops me off at home… The bell rings and wakes me from my daydream, I'm glad class is over, but I kinda want to hang onto the erotic images that were clouding my vision. I hobble over to my locker, which thankfully is not too far away, and grab a couple books. Let’s Hear it for the Boy starts to play inside my sweat pant pocket and I reach in, knowing its Justin by his handpicked ring tone. Disappointingly, it’s only a text, asking me to meet him out in front of the school to pick up Brian the cripple, thanks Jus. I get out there without too much trouble and plop my ass in his pathetic excuse for a car. “I’ll lend you the Jeep if I don’t have to be seen in this shitbox everyday” I grumble as I adjust the seat in the Gremlin. He just smiles, knowing I’m only half kidding. Speeding off into congested traffic I lean back and take in the body next to me, reimaging my fantasy from before, and sooner than I expected we’re pulling into my neighborhood, time to take action… I move closer to Justin and whisper huskily, “I want you sit on my throbbing nine inch cock.” He shudders and licks his lips, but keeps his eyes on the road. I reach over to play with his zipper. “You can ride me as hard as you like baby boy.” He lets out a hot little whimper and I know I’ve got him. He screeches to a halt, realizing we’re at my house, but surprisingly he grabs my exploring hand that has found it way into his briefs, and pulls it away. “I can’t” What! If Brian Kinney pouted…. I try my usual tactic, “Why not? I’m so fucking horny, I want you so bad…” He closes his eyes and steels himself, damn he’s getting good. “I have to go to work Bri.” “You got a job? Where?” I think I’d pay him right about now just to blow me…. “The Diner.” “Really?” I’m genuinely surprised, last time I begged for a job there Deb flat out refused, and then smacked me upside the head. “How did you manage that one?” “Well, now that I’m living with Deb-“ Whoa! Rewind! “What!?” “Oh shit, I forgot to tell you, Deb talked me into it in the emergency room, I’m using the guestroom.” “Oh.” This is awkward. The ER? That was almost a week ago, and he didn’t tell me? “When were you planning on telling me this?” I feel oddly betrayed that he would keep this from me, I mean, I'm happy for him, but I thought I could help, I dunno.. “Well you were so preoccupied with the surgery and everything I just thought….” Suddenly I feel very out of it and uncomfortable, “Yea, right.” I nod and get out of the car, I'm pissed that my stupid fucking knee is making me so isolated. I need some air. “Later.” “Um later!” He shouts through an open window. I start making my way to the house, my emotions rolling through me in waves. I thought I could be there for him, not to rescue per say, well yea, maybe I do like rescuing him. I know he hates it, but I feel the need to protect him, and now what? He’s protecting me from information, having too many things to think about? God that’s such bullshit. The cripple can’t think too much so don’t be too hard on him. Why does my world have to fall apart just as his is stabilizing. I rip open the front door and throw a crutch angrily inside, feeling a throb of pleasure as it hits the wall, making a scratch on the paint and taking down a framed soccer picture of mine. The frame cracks as it hits the floor and I grin. My parents won’t say it, or let me talk about it, but I know I’ll lose my scholarship. Who wants damaged goods? They told me when I signed the contract that they have the right to withdraw my scholarship if my playing ability is compromised. Compromised, funny word for you fucked up. So what now, model? Yea fuckin right. I throw my other crutch against the wall and walk without them, enjoying the stabs of pain that shoot through my leg. What’s the point? Justin can obviously survive without me, mission accomplished. Now time to retire, turn in the cape and tights. No one else needs me. I walk over to the kitchen cabinet with the full intention of taking a fistful of pain meds, I can make things go away for a little while, and maybe even a little while longer after that… I grip the bottle hard, loving the pricks the child lock gives to my hand. I twist hard, a determined look on my face, I know what I have to do. I pour out half the little white wonders into my palm. I stare at them, my gaze burning their little bodies, I can hear them screaming in pain, just like I want to. My breathing increases but I can’t fucking lift my arm to my mouth. I grunt and close my fist, smashing up the pills. Clenching my fist I feel the pebbles and powder on my skin, rubbing into the flesh. Suddenly I throw them against the wall, unable to have them touching me any longer. I strut out of the kitchen, putting even more pressure on my busted knee. Wiping my white hand on the blue paint of the entry hall I climb the stairs, slowly, putting weight and strain on my knee, hearing the groan of the bandage. Finally I make it up to my room, and I collapse on my bed, exhausted, not wanting to think or feel ever again.