Brian heard Justin entering the loft and quickly said his goodbye to Michael on the phone. He didn’t want to have to hear yet another lecture by him. Of course Michael saw the whole situation as being Justin’s fault. It didn’t matter how many times Brian tried to explain it to him; once Michael had something on his mind, it was hard to change it. Thankfully Brian was able to convince Michael to stay working with Justin on the comic book. Hopefully, the two of them might begin to talk again about things other than the comic and become friends again. But that was looking like it would take long to do. Mikey and Justin were civil with each other, and got a lot done with the comic book together… but neither one of them were able to return to how it once was… before the whole Ethan-thing. But Brian was hopeful. He could tell something was different by the sound of Justin’s feet in the kitchen. His walk was slow, as if he was deep in thought. Something was troubling him. Getting out of bed, Brian walked over to the kitchen to find Justin cutting up the vegetables for the soup. Barely looking up, he comments, “Your Jell-O drink is by the sink.” Brian takes it, not liking the emotionless tone that was coming from Justin’s mouth. He needed to wake him up, “You and fiddle-fuck had a fight?” Justin stops cutting the vegetables and slowly makes eyes contact. His eyes are rimmed-red and filled with cold anger. No words exchanged. Brian knew immediately that a line had been drawn. Justin returned to cutting the vegetables. Not being one to back down, Brian tries another approach, “ Was he upset about last night?.. or you coming here again with soup?” Justin instead asks, “How do you like the drink?” Brian forgot to taste it. Taking a sip, he’s surprised, “It’s not poison.” Justin smiles softly, knowing that it meant he liked it. Brian smiled too, relieved to see some sort of emotion return to Justin’s face other than anger. Justin begins to wash the escarole, removing the ends of them and getting ready to begin slicing them for the soup. “Pass me the basil, please.” Brian nods, walking over to the cabinets to retrieve the basil, as well as the garlic cloves, salt, and pepper. Justin watches him in the corner of his eye, somewhat surprised that Brian remembered the ingredients. Instead of commenting however, Justin started to sauté the onions, carrots and celery in the pot. He could sense Brian watching him, but refused to make any form of recognition. He was angry. Angry that he could allow Brian to make him feel this way. He jumped suddenly when Brian touches his wrist, “Should the tomatoes go in now?” Brian pretended not to notice Justin’s reaction to his touch. That hurt. Is he mad at me again? What did I do this time?.. Why is he even here then?
Justin shook his head, “Not yet… the vegetables have to soften first, and then I have to add the garlic and let it cook for another minute before the tomatoes can be added.” Brian nods. Justin, noticing how cold his voice must have sounded, quickly asks in a softer tone, “Are you feeling better?” Brian nods again, still trying to read Justin. “Yeah.” Justin nods, “Good to hear…” Brian frowns, becoming frustrated. Going over to the couch, he sits down and begins to look over some papers he brought home from work. “Oh no you don’t!” Justin immediately says as he appears in front of Brian and takes the folders away. “Getting better means no office work… it’s Saturday, Brian!” Brian stares at him, not sure whether to laugh or not. Justin, realizing what he just did, finds himself chuckling softly, “Sorry…” but he doesn’t hand the folders back. Instead he puts them on the table, and returns to the kitchen to check on the soup. Brian watches him for a few minutes. Justin was measuring the lentils, getting them ready to be added once the tomatoes were to be placed in the pot. He has no idea, does he? Brian thought to himself. He has no idea what he does to me…that brat. He smiled to himself, shaking his head. He missed him. But he knew he would never admit it, which was why he was glad that Justin stood up for himself like he did. If Justin wasn’t happy, then it was good that he left. Brian wasn’t going to stand in his way. Even if that meant hurting him, Brian was willing to let him go if that meant Justin would be happier.
Justin checked on the vegetables, deciding that they were soft enough and poured in the chopped tomatoes. The smell of the garlic, veggies and tomatoes made his mouth water. He hoped Brian liked it Of course he’ll like it. He loves this soup… at least when Debbie makes it… but that might mean he’ll hate it… because it isn’t Debbie’s soup… damnit, what was I thinking? Why did I say I would make THIS soup?.. he’s going to hate it. He’ll immediately compare it to Deb’s… he’ll probably tell her too.. what if she gets mad?.. but no, SHE told me how to make it… but what if this isn’t the right recipe?.. what if she just said it to see what I’ll do?… what if Ethan was right?.. she thinks I’m just going to use her.. how could I be so dumb?.. maybe I should just throw this out?.. no, then what will Brian think?… why do I do things like this?.. I’m such an idiot.
Brian could tell something was bothering Justin, and decides to return to the kitchen again. “It looks good.” Justin jumps, “What?” Brian frowns, what is his problem? “The soup… it smells good.” Justin bites his lip, “Like Deb’s?” Brian shakes his head, “No. Better.” He thought that would make Justin smile, but instead he saw Justin’s face fall. Justin suddenly says, “Don’t tell Deb that I made this, okay?” Brian is confused, but could see the turmoil on Justin’s face, “Sure.. okay.. I won’t.” Justin nods, feeling a bit better. Brian hands him the cup of lentils. He was worried, What’s going on?, “You okay?.. I’m not getting you sick, am I?” He tries to end his question with a joke, hoping to make Justin smile again. Justin shakes his head, “No.. I’m fine.. just.. I have stuff on my mind.” Brian waits, but when Justin doesn’t continue, Brian presses, “Like..?” Justin shrugs, “Stuff.. no big deal. The soup needs to stay on medium-heat for about 35 minutes, okay?” “You’re leaving?” Brian tries not to sound disappointed. Justin, seeing his response, changes his mind in leaving, “No.” What in the hell am I doing? Why am I staying? Shit!.. I can’t stay.. I have to think of a reason to leave… Brian, satisfied, returns to the couch and pulls out a magazine. Justin glances to see what he’s reading, “Are you thinking of re-modeling?” He shakes his head, “No.. I think I want to buy something.. a painting maybe, or a sculpture.. for there.” He points to an empty area of the loft, “It’s been bothering me lately… something is missing.” Justin wants to scream in the top of his lungs, “Me!! I’m missing!” But instead only nods. Brian steals a glance at Justin before asking, “Suggestions?” “Pardon?” “Of what I can add to that space.” “Oh.” “Well?” Justin looks at the empty area. He knew what used to stand in that place: his easel. It was a perfect place for him to sketch. The lighting was perfect, plus it was directly across from the couch, so he always had a great view of Brian. And now Brian wanted to throw something there, in it’s place. In HIS place. He wanted a substitution. A replacement! He wondered how many tricks Brian fucked right there when the easel was finally out of his way. The thought angered him, how could Brian just let something so special like that go? Because it never meant anything to him “Justin?” “What?” Justin knew his voice was tight, he didn’t care. “What should I put there?” “How the fuck should I know?!” Brian is taken aback. Oookay… “How’s the soup coming along?” Justin looks back at the pot, trying to calm down, “Half an hour.” Brian nods, wondering why Justin didn’t take his bait and help him find an art piece to go in that corner. He tried again, “Remember that picture you drew of Gus and I?” Justin nods, knowing that Brian still kept it in the bedroom. He saw it last night, and was grateful to know that Brian must have actually really liked it if he didn’t trash it once Justin had moved out. Brian continues, “It’s nice.” Justin nods, “Thank you.” Brian wonders if he’s going to have to spell it out, “Are you still showing your art in galleries?” Justin nods again, not sure where Brian was heading with this. “Yeah, sometimes.. nothing big.” Brian sighed, wondering what happened to the spunky kid he once knew who was so sure of himself, “It is big, Justin. Your art is good.” Justin looks down, continuing to stir, “Thanks..” Brian sighed, it was like pulling teeth, “Hmm.. maybe I’ll just buy a table.” Justin stops stirring, “What?” “A table. I can buy a table and put it there.” “You have enough tables, Brian.” “Then what do you suggest?” Brian knew he finally had his attention. Justin looks at the area, “You said you wanted an art piece.” Brian nods, “But that was when I thought you were going to help me. But since you aren’t… I’ll just buy a table.” He waits a few seconds, one.. two.. “Not a table, Brian.” “Then what do you suggest?” Brian didn’t know WHY he wanted something of Justin’s in the loft. He knew it would only make him feel worse to see it everyday.. reminding him. But maybe he needed that. He needed that reminder. A reminder of what happens when you open yourself up to someone… a reminder like his bracelet. But too many reminders can be hazardous.. He didn’t care. He obviously needed this since he couldn’t stop thinking of Justin. He had to let him go. Justin smiles, thinking, “Well if you really want a table, maybe you could buy a pedestal instead? And put a sculpture on it?” Brian slowly nods, putting his magazine down, though he never was really looking at it to begin with, “Like what?” Justin shrugs, walking around the kitchen and leaning on the counter, “Whatever you want… it’s your place…” “I want your opinion.” "Why?" "Damnit, Justin! Never the fuck mind then." Brian is about to return to his magazine, when Justin speaks. "No, it's just that.." "What?" He barks. "Nothing. I'll help you find something to put there." "Good. How's the soup?" "Soup?.. shit! The soup!" He starts to laugh as he returns to the kitchen to check. It was strange, one minute Justin found himself so angry at Brian, and the next he was willing to help him buy art. I’m so lost. But he was happy. Here in the loft, he felt happy. Just being near Brian made him feel a bit safer from the world. But that feeling was always short-lived; until Brian would say or do something to fuck it all up. His thought process was interrupted by Brian’s sudden sneeze.. and a second one right after. Justin crossed his arms, “Brian. When did you take your last cold medicine?” Busted. He watched Justin roll his eyes and turn to get him his medicine. He had to smile. He liked this. He liked having someone around taking care of him, not just anyone: Justin. Instinctively he found himself running his fingers around his cowry bracelet. No. Not again. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.
Justin returned and handed him the two tablets. The tension had returned in the room, and Justin wasn’t sure what had just happened. Brian takes swallows the two pills, wishing they were GHB, E.. anything to make him feel better… like flying.. He stopped when he noticed Justin staring at him, “What?” “What were you just thinking about?” “Nothing.” “Tell me.” “I don’t even remember. Is the soup done yet? I’m starving.” “Almost.. nice change of topic switch.. really.” Brian just smirks, reaching for a tissue as he felt another sneeze approaching. Before he blows his nose, he stops with annoyance to find Justin still in front of him, “Are you going to fuckin’ watch me?” Justin laughs, shaking his head and returning to the kitchen, “The soup should be done soon. Brian grunts, blowing his nose before saying, "Well you are fuckin' making me starve to death over here..." Justin smiles, "I'm sorry, do you want more Jell-O drink, or maybe some toast?" "How about a bottle of Jim Beam and some poppers?" Justin laughs, "You're impossible!" and returns to the soup. Brian smiles, continuing to watch him. Things could’ve different… if only … He shakes those thoughts away. It didn’t matter. None of it did, Justin was better off without him. Justin grins, calling, “Alright, it’s ready!” Brian looks over to find him getting the bowls. “Are we eating at the table?” “That depends on you… are you up to eating at the table? Or do you just want me to bring the bowl to the couch?” Brian shrugged, “Whatever.” Justin walks over and puts the bowl on the table, adding a slice of toast to the side, “Bon appetite.” Brian sits up groggily, he hated feeling sick, just the thought of being weak disgusted him. What bothered him most though, was having someone watch him be weak. I’m not weak. Irritated, he takes the spoon and is about to dig in when Justin cautions, “It’s still hot, Brian!” Brian sneers, “You aren’t my mother, Justin. Shit, even my mother never bitched like you do.” Justin arches an eyebrow, “No, your mother bitched WORSE.” Brian shook his head, he knew this was a losing battle. Leaning back on the couch, he looks back over at the empty area of the loft. The place were Justin’s easel used to stand. At first he used to think that it went against the whole style of the loft, but after awhile it grew on him… and now that it was gone, it was as if something terrible was missing and needed to be replaced before the entire area would sink into some dreaded black hole. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but that was how he felt. And what better item to put there than something Justin would choose. It would be almost poetic; a reminder of yet another major fuck-up. This is what happens when you open yourself up to someone… you’ll just get bitten in the ass. He still regretted not going to the funeral…
“Brian?” Justin stared at him questioningly; Brian had been staring out at the empty space in the loft for the past few minutes, “Brian, are you okay?” As if waking up from a dream, Brian slowly nods, returning to the soup, “Yeah… I just have a headache.” Justin sympathizes, “I’m sorry. Maybe you’re just hungry? Have some soup.” Brian nods again, stirring the soup with his spoon before bringing it to his mouth. It tasted good. “Well?” Justin asked, Is it like Deb’s? “It’s okay.” Actually, it was delicious. “Just okay?” Justin tried not to look disappointed, but knew it was better this way. The recipe was Deb’s, not his. What if Debbie found out and got mad? Brian continued to stare out where the easel used to be, “Maybe another painting…or a drawing…” Justin glanced up to where he was looking, “I guess.” Brian nodded, “I think I want a painting to go there.” Justin looked down at his soup, not very hungry anymore. “Okay.” “Do you have one?” “One what?” “A painting…a sketch…drawing, whatever the fuck..” Justin was confused, “That I made?” Maybe it was the cold medicine, but Brian had a sudden urge to yell, ‘Duh!’ but refrained. “Yes, Justin. A drawing that you made. I want one.” Justin bit his lip, there had to be some sick sort of catch to this, he knew it, “Why?” Brian, annoyed, “Because I want one. Jesus Christ, Justin. Are you going to give me one or not?” Justin didn’t know whether he should smile or not. In fact, he had no idea how this should be making him feel at all. Brian Kinney actually wanted one of his drawings, and he wanted to put it right here in the living room? It made no sense to him. Hesitant, “Sure…” Brian nods, satisfied that with the decision, and finishes his soup, leaving Justin to sit there in his own confusion.
Brian wants a drawing I made… why?.. and of what?.. I should’ve asked before saying ‘yes.’ Why did I say ‘yes’? Because I can never say ‘no’ to him… damnit. He knows that too… maybe that’s why he’s doing this… because he knows I can’t say no… is this a trick?.. My God he’s trying to trick me… but with a drawing?…. I just don’t get it. He rubs his temples. “Brian?” “Mm?” “Um.. nevermind.” He decided he didn’t want to know. Brian nods, putting the spoon down. He was exhausted. Coughing a bit, he reaches for another tissue, “Well I guess you should return to the fiddler.” Justin slowly nods, “Yeah… you should get some rest…. Sleep is important when you’re sick.” “Right, Dr. Taylor. I’ll remember that.” He chuckles softly, slowly getting up and returning to the bedroom. Justin watches him, Why is he doing this to me?
Brian could hear Justin cleaning up in the other room. He wanted him to leave. Just knowing that he was a few feet away was driving him nuts. If Justin didn’t leave soon he knew he would or say something he’d later regret. Just get out… get out… “Brian?” Justin quietly calls as he cautiously enters the bedroom, “Are you already sleep?” “What do you want?” “Umm.. I just wanted to know if you needed anything from the kitchen since I’m here…” “No.” Justin nodded, “Um.. okay… then I guess I’m.. I’m going to go now.” Brian rolls to his side, the covers tangling over his legs, “Whatever.. don’t forget my drawing.” Justin bites his lip, “Um.. Brian?” Brian growls, “What?!” “What drawing do you want?” Brian closes his eyes, thinking, How about one of you? That way I can always remember what it felt like.. what it felt like to -- “Bri?” Justin didn’t like the silence, it made him nervous. He shrugs, “Whatever you think will go with the rest of the place…” he was already beginning to drift off. Justin took a few more steps closer to the bed, “But like what?” Brian sighs, opening his eyes once again, “I don’t care, Justin.” He was becoming impatient. Justin frowns, taking another step in the bed, “Yes you do.” Without warning, Brian snatches Justin by the wrist and pulls him onto the bed with him. That wasn’t hard Brian thought to himself with a content grin. Justin was more surprised to finding himself on the bed than anything else at that moment. The two of them just stared at each other for a few moments. Justin wondered if Brian was going to kiss him. If Brian kisses me, I’m a goner. I already know it… I won’t be able to stop once he kisses me. Brian kept staring at Justin’s pouty lips. They ached to be kissed in his opinion. He found himself being drawn to them, wanting to suck on his lower lip for hours before moving on to his tongue. He knew Justin wanted it just as bad. Brian’s cell phone suddenly goes off. They both jump. Justin can feel his cheeks turning red, “Um.. I should go.” Brian doesn’t say a word, even though he knew that Justin wanted to be stopped by him before reaching the door. But he doesn’t. Justin turns back for a moment, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Brian.” Brian nods, watching him from the bed, “Thanks.” He smiles, “I’ll see you around then?” He nods again, “Don’t forget my picture.” Justin’s smile fades into confusion as he tries to figure out what picture to give him. Opening the door, he slowly walks out, his mind in a fog.
Brian lies back down on the bed. He could still smell Justin on the blanket beside him. Rolling to the side, he breathes in the scent. My God, if he only knew…. But he didn’t, and Brian meant to keep it that way. He wasn’t going to open himself up like that again. He learned. Never again.