Disclaimer: Don't own them! Chapter 6 – Bloodsport 'Love is just a bloodsport' Brian Brian ran quickly down the length of the field. The opposing team was making sure he was never uncovered, so there was always one guy or two blocking him, shadowing him. Brian was getting pissed off, so with a quick feint, he got rid of his mark and made for the goal. “John! Over here!” he called out. His teammate looked up, nodded, and with one powerful kick, sent the ball to Brian. Brian moved to receive it, went left, then right, and kicked it hard to the exact place where he knew the goalkeeper wouldn’t catch it. The whistle blew, a roar went up among the crowd, and the commentator yelled, “Goal! Kinney scores for CMU!” The score was now two to one, in favor of Carnegie Mellon, and the game became faster and more furious. The extra practices were paying off, since the other team was getting tired more quickly, but no extra practice could make the players immune from fouls, and the game was also getting dirtier by the second. “Adams, McGuire! Go down, cover!” Brian yelled, directing his teammates. It was too late, though, and the opposing team scored. “Shit,” Brian muttered. A time out was called, and the players headed to the bench. “What the hell was that?!” Coach Jenkins raged. “You can’t afford to let them get even so quickly, be aggressive! Kinney, you need to be a real leader, you hear me? You can’t be a fucking fairy, be a captain!” Brian said nothing, but he was seething. When he went back out into the field, all he could think about was fucking Jerkins, picking on him again, not caring that Brian was the one player doing something right. Justin, who was pissed off at him, who hadn’t talked to him in two days, who wasn’t here. Rage filled Brian, and sadness. Jenkins wanted him aggressive? Fuck, he had him. Brian started playing like a madman, running here and there, positioning his teammates, confusing the opposing team. He knew the game was about to end and that they had to score, but he was being marked more heavily than ever. Finally, he saw an opening. “Knowles!” he yelled. He ran to receive the ball that was kicked his way, fainted left to get rid of one of his marks, and ran furiously toward the goal. He gave one powerful kick and the ball sailed through the air, but Brian didn’t get a chance to see if he scored, because three guys came at him the exact moment after he’d kicked the ball. He didn’t know what happened, he just knew that one minute he was standing up, and the next he was on the floor, a burning pain in the center of his face. He opened his eyes, but he couldn’t see clearly, everything was blurry. He thought he could see Coach Jenkins, a medic, Lindsay, and Justin? No, that couldn’t be right. Fuck, it hurt. “It’s his nose. He needs to go to the hospital, get an X-ray,” he heard someone say. The medic, probably. Shit, his nose? Brian felt like crying, both for the pain and for vanity. “Brian? Can you stand up?” Brian nodded, and they slowly helped him up. Brian still couldn’t see much, so hands guided him out of the field. Brian had enough presence of mind to ask groggily, “Who won?” “We did, Kinney!” Coach Jenkins replied. “You scored! It was a hell of a goal, way to go.” Brian tried to give a damn, but his nose hurt too much. Plus, Jerkins being nice to him freaked him out. He closed his eyes and tried to keep from crying out. The medic helped him into the back of an ambulance, told him to lie down on the stretcher. “Can’t you give him something for the pain?” a voice close to him asked. “Please, he looks like he’s in so much pain,” it sounded like Justin. But it couldn’t be Justin, could it? “He can’t be given anything until after he’s been checked over in the hospital, I’m sorry.” “Jus…” Brian tried to ask. “Shh, don’t try to speak, Brian.” Justin took his hand. “I’m here.” + Brian was feeling good. No, he was feeling fucking great. He really needed to score some more of whatever they had given to him for later, he was on cloud nine. He tried to concentrate on what the doctor was saying, but if Justin’s grin and the doctor’s good natured smile were any indication, he wasn’t doing a very good job. “Um, sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?” “I said you’re going to be fine,” the doctor repeated. “Your nose wasn’t actually broken, but your nasal septum was deviated by the blow, so you’re going to have to keep that tape on for about two weeks. You can take out the gauze tomorrow, but come back if there’s any evidence of blood on it, alright?” “I’ll help him take it out, doctor, and if there’s bleeding I’ll bring him back,” Justin assured the doctor. “Good. Well, here’s the prescription for pain killers, and I strongly suggest refraining from any heavy activity for at least a week. No smoking, either.” Brian looked horrified. No fucking and no smoking? Justin laughed. “I’ll make sure he takes care of himself.” Brian rolled his eyes. He felt like he was in a re-run, back in the hospital with Justin, who promised the doctors he’d make big, bad Brian behave. The doctor left, and Justin sat down on Brian’s bed. “So, here we are again. You really love this place, huh?” Brian glared at him. “Fuck you,” he croaked out. Justin chuckled, but became serious again. “It was so fucking scary, Brian. I mean, you were there, running, shooting, and suddenly, you were on the floor, bleeding. It was horrible.” Brian took Justin’s hand in his. “I thought you weren’t going to come to the game,” he whispered. “I wasn’t,” Justin replied. “But I couldn’t stay away from the ‘big game’, now, could I?” he smiled. Brian thought he smiled back, but most of his face was numb, so he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t actually slobbering. “I’m glad you came. And… I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry, too.” They both knew they weren’t talking about the game, or Brian being hurt. The door to the room opened and they both looked up to see Lindsay come in. “Brian! Are you okay? They wouldn’t let me in before now,” Lindsay looked like she’d been crying. “I’m fine, Linds, just messed up my nose a bit,” Brian assured her. “Oh, I’m so glad,” Lindsay breathed out, relieved. “Do you want me to call Michael and Debbie?” Brian thought about it for a moment, and glanced at Justin before answering. “Well, they’re gonna find out sooner or later. Better make it sooner. Just… please, tell them I don’t need any mothering, okay? I already have an overbearing roommate.” Lindsay nodded and left to make the call. “Overbearing roommate, huh?” Justin asked. “It’s a better description than fucking annoying twat, don’t you think?” Justin smiled, squeezed Brian’s hand, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. + Michael Michael walked inside the diner with Emmett, desperate for a cup of coffee. He’d had a very long night shift at the Big Q, and he couldn’t complain. As the new guy, he got stuck with the worst shifts. “Hi, honey!” his mother called out the moment they walked in. “Who’s this?” she asked, pointing to Emmett. “Mom, this is Emmett, a new friend of mine. Emmett, this is my mom, Debbie,” Michael introduced them. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” Emmett said, smiling. “Godiva has mentioned you… she says you’re the finest waitress in Liberty Avenue.” “You know Godiva?” Debbie asked, surprised. “Yes, I do. She took me in when I first arrived to Pittsburgh.” “Well, sit down, sweetie, let me get you some breakfast. Any friend of Michael’s and Godiva’s is a friend of mine,” Debbie led them to one of the booths. “So, what’ll it be?” “I’ll have a cup of strong coffee and scrambled eggs,” Michael answered. “Coffee, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, orange juice,” Debbie muttered as she wrote his order down. Michael rolled his eyes. “Um… I’ll have some milk and the blueberry banana pancakes,” Emmett said. “Good choice, honey! Now, how do you like your bacon?” Debbie asked. Emmett looked confused. “Bacon? But I-” “He’ll have it like mine, Ma,” Michael interrupted. Debbie nodded and left to place the order. “Trust me, it’s easier to go along with her than to resist,” Michael explained. “I’m starting to see that,” Emmett smiled. “Oh, look at that cutie pie… he’s a bit older than what I usually go for, but whew!” he gestured indiscreetly to a man sitting a few tables away. Michael turned to look, and had to agree. The man looked up and noticed him looking, so Michael turned back, embarrassed. “Here you go, boys,” Debbie set down their order. “Coffee, milk, juice, eggs, pancakes, toast and bacon. I also brought a few English muffins.” “Thanks, Ma,” Michael grinned at Emmett’s wide eyes. Their food took over the whole table. “So, you were checking out hot stuff over there, huh?” Debbie asked, snapping her gum. “You know, he’s a doctor. I’d let him give me a physical any day.” Emmett laughed, and Michael said, “Ma! We’re trying to eat here!” When Debbie left to take another order, Michael opened the paper he’d brought. He needed to look for a decent apartment. He scanned the listings, trying to find anything remotely affordable. He was quickly losing heart, however; anything affordable sounded like a shit hole, and anything remotely decent, he couldn’t afford. “Shit,” he muttered. “What is it, sweetie?” Emmett asked, through a mouthful of pancake. “Apartment hunting sucks when you’re poor,” Michael said, taking a sip of coffee. “Well, I could’ve told you that. What are you looking for?” Emmett inquired, taking the paper from Michael and reading the Real Estate listings. “I just want something reasonable, something decent, that’s not ridiculously expensive.” “Hmm…. Oh! Look, here’s one!” Emmett exclaimed, pointing to one of the ads. “Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room…” Michael read. “It’s not in the best neighborhood, but it sounds good… oh, no. There’s no way I can afford that with what I’m earning right now,” Michael said, disappointed. Emmett looked at Michael speculatively. “Well, there is one way you could afford it,” he said slowly. “How?” “A roommate,” Emmett explained. “Roommate?” Michael repeated. “But who? I don’t want to ask around and get some weirdo living with me…” “Well, I can’t crash at Godiva’s anymore… the poor dear shouldn’t have to deal with me on top of everything else. And I’m not a psycho, I promise,” Emmett smiled nervously. “You’d be my roommate?” Michael asked with wide eyes. “Oh, I know, it’s a terrible idea. I didn’t mean to impose, sweetie, I-” “Emmett, shut up. I’d love it if you were my roommate.” “Really? Oh, yay!” Emmett clapped his hands. “Well, let’s call before this apartment gets snapped up.” He took out his cell phone and dialed the number given on the ad. “Hello? Yes, I’m calling about the apartment. A friend and I are interested in it, do you think we could stop by to see it? You do? Wonderful!” Emmett winked at Michael. “Yes, that time will be perfect, we’ll be there. Thank you,” Emmett closed his phone. “Done. We can go see it at noon.” “Great,” Michael grinned. Things were finally looking up. His phone started ringing, and he glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Hey, Linds, what’s up?” “Hi, Michael. Um, listen, I’m here at the hospital with Brian.” “What?! What happened?” “He was injured during the soccer game earlier this morning… three guys basically clobbered him after he shot a goal, and they hurt his nose. It’s not broken, but his nasal septum is probably deviated.” “Oh, shit. His nose? I bet Brian’s really pissed off. But he’s okay, right?” Michael asked worriedly. “He’s fine. He’s actually more than fine, they gave him some pretty good painkillers. We’re leaving in a bit, they’ve already discharged him. He just wanted you to know, and he wanted me to tell you not to worry, okay?” “Yeah, Linds, thank you.” Michael hung up. “Is everything okay?” Emmett asked. “It’s my best friend… he was injured playing soccer,” Michael explained. “Brian was injured?!” Debbie exclaimed. Neither Emmett nor Michael had noticed her approaching. “Yeah, Lindsay just called me. He’s fine, but his nose got beaten up.” “Oh, poor baby,” Debbie said. “Michael, I want you to go over to his place, I’m sending food. He’s gonna need nourishment.” “If his nose was hurt, then he probably won’t be able to eat much,” Emmett pointed out. “Well, I’ll send a milkshake, too,” Debbie said, and bustled off to get the food ready. When everything was ready, Debbie gave Michael a plastic bag with about seven food containers. “Ma! Brian’s hurt, he’s not required to feed an army!” “You shut up and take it to him, alright? And tell him to take care. And to rest properly. And to follow the doctors orders. Oh, and-” “I’ll tell him everything, Ma, don’t’ worry,” Michael kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?” “Bye, Debbie. It was lovely meeting you, thanks for breakfast,” Emmett said. “Oh, no problem, honey. It was lovely to meet you, too.” + Michael and Emmett were buzzed inside Brian and Justin’s building by Lindsay. They walked up the stairs and Michael knocked on the door. “Hi, Michael!” Lindsay greeted him, opening the door. “Who’s this?” “Hi, Linds,” Michael kissed her cheek. “This is Emmett, my friend and soon to be roommate.” “That’s me,” Emmett said, giving a little wave. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Lindsay smiled. “Come in, come in. What’s that?” “I come bearing food. Lots of food, under General Debbie’s orders,” Michael explained. They walked inside the apartment, and quickly spotted Brian and Justin in the living room. “Brian! Are you okay?” Michael quickly walked to his friend’s side. “I’m feeling no pain at the moment, Mikey,” Brian gave him a silly smile. “Why the fuck did you bring all the food in the Liberty Diner with you?” “My mom,” Michael shrugged. “Let me take it to the kitchen,” Justin said, standing up and taking the bag from Michael. “I’ll help you,” Lindsay offered, and followed Justin. “So, are you gonna be scarred for life?” Michael asked. “Fuck you. Of course not, I’m still gonna be the hottest guy alive,” Brian said. “No argument there,” Emmett breathed out. He’d been watching their interaction with amusement, and eating up a shirtless Brian with his eyes. “Oh! Brian, I’d like you to meet Emmett. He’s gonna be my roommate,” Michael said, gesturing to Emmett. Brian looked at the tall man, taking in the lemon-green shirt and the sequined jeans. The guy was hot, quite hot, but too much of a queen for Brian’s taste. “Hi, Emmett. I’m Brian, the ridiculously hot and tragically wounded best friend.” “And I’m Justin, the overbearing roommate who has constant plans to do away with him,” Justin added, returning from the kitchen. Emmett smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet both of you. We should all go to Babylon soon,” he suggested. Brian and Justin looked at each other, and wordlessly argued. “In a week,” they both said at the same time. Emmett grinned. Whatever they might say, Brian and Justin had more going on than being roommates, or they should. + Justin Brian’s ‘no smoking, no fucking’ week went by slowly, and Brian bitched every single second of it. He went to school and Ryder for his internship, but he obviously couldn’t go to soccer practice, and the doctor had advised him against Woody’s and Babylon because of the smoke and crowds. So Brian had stayed home every night, doing homework and projects, watching movies and eating what Justin prepared. Justin didn’t mind the slow week, and he ignored Brian’s bitching easily, because, to be honest, he was having a great time. He’d missed the easy camaraderie, the hanging out and making fun of this actor or another. Also, there was nothing funnier than Brian pretending he didn’t know the words to Lord of the Rings; I mean, seriously, the guy thought that just because he whispered Justin couldn’t hear. The same thing happened with Harry Potter; Justin remembered a day when he’d been looking for some condoms in Brian’s room and found a secret stash of every Harry Potter book published. Brian was such a freaking geek. However, it wasn’t exactly like old times. There was something there, always, and it wasn’t hidden in the very depths of Justin’s consciousness anymore. In fact, it was as far from hidden as possible, it was like a fucking white elephant ambling around the living room, making Justin feel crowded and desperate. There was just no way that he could ignore how much he wanted Brian, how much he wanted him in every single way there was. And the more Justin tried to ignore this, the more he tried to just stop wanting, the more Brian seemed to tempt him, blissfully unaware of his effect on Justin. Walking around shirtless and with his soccer shorts on; looking wounded and vulnerable and still so fucking hot, with that tape on his nose and the faint bruising around it; and, memorably, after taking one of his pain pills, declaring that Justin and he would make a fantastic Legolas and Aragorn. I mean, honestly, how could Justin resist that? So, when the week passed and Ethan called on Wednesday, asking Justin if he’d like to have dinner, Justin jumped at the opportunity to leave the apartment, to distract himself with anything. “Where are you going?” Brian asked, after seeing Justin reasonably dressed up in grey slacks and a black turtleneck. “I’m having dinner with Ethan.” “Where, McDonald’s?” Brian huffed. Justin knew that Brian thought very little of Ethan’s way to earn money. “The fucking fiddler should stop playing street corners and get a real job.” “A real job would interfere with his practice time,” Justin replied, saying what Ethan told him all the time. “You have a real job at the diner, and it doesn’t interfere with your painting time, does it?” Brian pointed out. “Ethan has a very artistic temperament,” Justin shrugged. Brian raised an eyebrow. “Right. Artistic. Whatever.” “Well, anyway, I have to be going. Are you going out tonight?” Justin inquired, grabbing his jacket. “I might. Don’t know yet.” “Well, be careful if you do. It’s been a week, but your nose is still tender.” With that, Justin left. + 'So let's pretend that you love me And be my bait' Justin and Ethan walked back to Justin’s apartment after dinner slowly, talking about their classes and the no-talent toadies that Ethan had to put up with in the PIFA orchestra sometimes; Ethan was desperate to be a soloist. Justin was grateful that painting was a one-man show, but he didn’t paint because of the glory, or the praise of the critics, though it was certainly a plus; he painted for himself, and because he had to. As they walked down Justin’s street, Ethan asked, “Justin, do you think… do you think I could come up?” Justin hesitated for a moment. He and Brian had pretty basic tricking rules, which boiled down to ‘do it in your room’. Brian could bring whatever tricks he wanted, provided all the action took place in his bedroom, and the same went for Justin; they just had to stay out of the common areas, the living room and the kitchen. Oddly enough, it was precisely thinking of Brian tricking what made Justin say yes to Ethan’s request, and he refused to analyze why. “Um, yeah, sure… come on up. I’m not sure if Brian is in or not, but we’ll have to be quiet if he’s asleep.” Ethan nodded and followed Justin inside and up the stairs. When Justin opened the door to the apartment, he and Ethan froze underneath the doorway. There was somebody in the living room. Brian was fucking someone on the couch in the living room. The lights were on, and Justin immediately noticed, with a wrenching pain in the gut, that the trick was blond. In fact, he looked like Justin to a startling degree. “I’m in the middle of someone here, boys,” Brian grunted between thrusts. “Not that I mind an audience.” Justin glanced at Ethan, who was staring at Brian and the trick open-mouthed. Yeah, Ethan probably didn’t mind being the audience all that much, either, but Justin did. Without a word, he turned and left. Ethan caught up with him in the street. “Jus, Jus! Are you alright? Do you want to stay over at my place?” Justin took a deep breath. “No, thanks Ethan. I’ll stay with Daphne.” He started walking in the direction of Daphne’s apartment, not caring that it was the middle of the night, not caring that the apartment was miles away. He needed to breathe, he needed to stop shaking. He needed to stop seeing Brian fucking that blond trick, Justin’s goddamned double. Justin’s double, but not Justin. TBC A/N: Title from song by the Sneaker Pimps. Songs quoted are Bloodsport by Sneaker Pimps and Not the Sun by Brand New. 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