Author Notes: This was my entry for qaf_challenges LJ community. Since I was experimenting somewhat here, I do hope everyone will be able to follow the story. There are two stories, like two choices that Brian can take : the actual one and the possible, alternative one. And as we know, one different choice is enough for our lives to go down a totally different path. BTW, there is just a mention of Justin with OC, but it`s not detailed. I hope nobody will have a problem with that. :)
Inspired By Icon: 
IMPORTANT!
Legend :
text = Brian's original (1st) choice
(text) = Brian's (possible) alternative (2nd) choice
***
How he got to the car, Brian really had no idea. All he did know was…Michael's words hurt like a motherfucker. Yeah, he was well aware of the truthfulness of it all, but it still hurt nonetheless. Half in daze, he unlocked the car door and stared into the darkness blindly, as a shiver ran down his back. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder and without any trouble, their eyes met. Partially covered by the gauzy curtain, Justin's gaze burned his skin mercilessly. In a sick sort of way, he reveled in the strange sensation. Somewhere deep inside, he feared it would be the last and only contact he'll ever have with the young man. ‘What do you want from me? I gave you all I had to give. All I thought you wanted. Why cant that be enough? For now?’ He got not answer in return. Not that he really expected it. Not really. But those blue eyes weren't disappointed. They were…waiting. Planning. Hoping. For what, Brian wasn't sure, but in the deepest, most secret part of his heart…he hoped too. Suddenly, the curtain fell back into place and Brian was once again one with the night.
He climbed inside the car and headed home. There were important things to be decided and cliffs to be jumped off. And just like always, Brian decided to take the road less traveled.
***
(He watched those bright blue eyes like it was the last time they'll ever watch each other and maybe it was. Brian was certain now that it just wasn't meant to be. Jack was right all along. He just wasn't a husband material and it was better that Justin realized that now. For another second more, their gazes held and Brian suddenly looked away. He just couldn't…face him. Face his failures. The loss of something that he didn't really feel like he had in the first place, yet it tore him inside all the same. Just cut all the ties now and let the boy free. Yes, he was doing a good thing, honorable thing. He was. His eyes stared unseeingly into the darkness. That was where he belonged, he thought to himself. Where he'll eventually end up. Silently, he climbed into the corvette and sped down the street, trying damn hard to ignore the weight inside his chest, as he left an important part of his life behind.)
***
Next days were a fever of thoughtless motion for Brian. Between ongoing campaigns Kinnetik was working on and Ted's search for “the one”, he managed to not think about Justin and what was waiting in the back of his mind to be solved. But then, Friday came and Brian realized that his entire week flew by without seeing Justin. A little known fact was that Brian hated Fridays with a fiery passion. Fridays usually led to Saturdays and then logically, to Sundays. Actually, Brian really hated weekends as a whole, because it gave him way too much free time to think and analyze, along with fucking too much ammunition against himself, that created too many possibilities to go about the things he really cared for the exactly wrong way. One of the main reasons why he did his best partying over weekends, but the problem always was that after always came the sobering and that one was usually a bitch. And Justin deserved more. Much, much more than Brian had to offer. Still, Justin was more than worth it. If all that Brian ever knew about life fell away over night, that was one constant he was certain of.
He glanced out the window, while the rain pelted against the glass as if in anger. As an afterthought, he checked his watch. 8:30 PM. A whoosh of air in the doorway of his office got his attention.
“Boss, I'm out of here. Hope you are too.” Brian waved, not looking up from his papers, which earned him a tired sigh from Cynthia and a head shake.
“See you Monday morning. Cyn.” He muttered to her back, as she left the room.
Of course, he knew exactly where she stood on this entire Justin thing. He could almost visualize her waving her pom-poms standing beside Deb and Linds, cheering him and Justin to finally get a grip and just fucking get over themselves. So much for fuck dreams tonight...
Making a final decision, he threw his documents into the briefcase, grabbed his coat off the hanger and turned the lights off. The night would be long anyway and he knew he might as well start working on the plans, that will turn his life around. Again.
***
(Out of breath, Brian fished out the keys for the door, unlocked it, turned the alarm off and closed the loft door. On his way to the bedroom, he threw the briefcase on the sofa. He couldn't wait to scrape the suit off his body and relax just a little. The week had been absolute hell and what made it worse, he hadn't picked up a trick worth shit in couple of days. Plus, he kinda…sorta, well…missed Justin. Ok, he missed the little twat like crazy, but it was just as well. Hell, maybe now they could even get a drink at the Woody's together. It's not like they can't be friends, right? With that idea on his mind, he pulled his jeans on and one of the warm sweaters that Justin always seemed to buy him for a birthday. Well, Justin used to say that it was because that particular article of clothing just ‘screamed Brian Kinney’, but Brian knew it was a birthday gift. As it was, five or so sweaters now cluttered his closet in a disturbingly neat way.
Nervously, he picked up the phone and dialed Justin's cell.
“The number you are currently dialing has been discontinued. Please contact the provider for further information.”
He stared at the phone, confusion raging inside of him. His next call was to Daphne.
“Uh, Brian, he's not here.”
“Where is he? Do you have a number where I can reach him? His cell is not working.”
“Oh my God, Brian. You don't know.” Alarms went off inside Brian's head and he couldn't help but feel as the panic stroke wildly through his body.
“Know what exactly?” He heard her sigh loudly.
“Brian, he left Pittsburgh. Couple days ago. I mean, it was a sudden decision and I don't know what exactly happened before that, but he said he had to get out of here and next morning, he was gone.”
Brian fought to keep breathing. In. And out. In. Out. He closed his eyes tightly and squeezed his thigh hard. Trying to desperately forger what he just heard. Justin was gone.
“Brian? You okay?” Brian swallowed hard and tried to sound reasonably unaffected. He managed it only partly.
“Uh yeah, fine. Thanks, Daphne.” He was just about to hang up, when Daphne's voice stopped him.
“Brian, you don't want his address? His phone number?”
“No, it's alright. He has a new life there. Bye, Daphne.” He let him go. And he hated himself for being so fucking weak. For being a fucking coward where it really counted.)
***
He started with little things. First on the itinerary were text messages.
Every morning, while he still sat in the heated seats of the `vette in front of Kinnetik, he sent a short one that was cute, but not overly invasive. He didn't expect anything in return for the moment and as long as Justin didn't pick up the phone and tell him to go fuck himself, he was good.
“Morning greetings doesn't only mean saying Good Morning. It has a silent message saying: I remember you when I wake up! Have a nice day!”
He reread the message, bit on his lip and rolled his eyes. Too damn cute. He moved to start deleting it, but stopped. Then again, Justin would probably like it and that was what this was all about. Ok, leaving it. He hit SEND and glanced out the window. After he pocketed his cell, he grabbed his coat and the briefcase from the seat and slid out of the car.
Things have been put in motion now. The time would tell if he was doing the right thing. Still, looking back on what he just started, he couldn't help but feel fucking good inside.
***
(Three months passed and Brian did his very best to ignore how much Justin's absence bothered him. He worked from early mornings until late evenings, drove himself and his employees, especially Cynthia and Ted, pretty fucking nuts, but through it all, he could still feel it. The underlying pity that seemed to color all of their communication, the empathy that just didn't sit well with him. He wanted to scream and fight his way out, maybe even throw things at whoever dared to enter his office. But for the most part, he felt fucking ridiculous. Ridiculous for feeling like a left behind housewife in the first place.
And then, Justin's first letter from New York came, letting him know all the things he made himself believe that Justin needed and wanted in his life. There was something about a new writer boyfriend, that didn't really get to be called that, and getting what he asked for and never before had Brian felt so hollow in his victory like he did now.)
***
“Brian, if you keep this messaging thing up, you'll have bills worth thousands of dollars.” Brian rose an eyebrow at his friend, just before he took a swallow of his beer.
“Mikey, since when do you tire yourself with my bills? Donut you and the professor have your hands full with the little hustler that could?” He smirked at his own joke, even though Michael didn't seem to share his amusement.
“Fuck you, Brian. Do you really think you'll get somewhere with this ridiculous scheme?” Leave it to the Novotnys to butt into other peoples` business.
“Michael, stay the fuck out of it!” He put the bottle down calmly and strolled in the general direction of the bathroom, pulling along a tall, dark and handsome by his belt. An image was still everything, no matter how fake he knew that image actually was. Couple minutes later he came out of the bathroom, a blank look on his face. He grabbed his jacket off the chair, as he passed Michael on his way out with a “See ya, Mikey” over his shoulder. When he got to his car, a could be trick waited by his door. Brian glanced at him and shook his head.
“Not interested.” With a small shrug, the trick just nodded and walked down the street, Brian swung into the seat and started the car. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, while thoughts fought for dominance inside his mind. And the next thing he knew, he was parked across from the Novotny-Bruckner house. It was actually one of the places on the planet, that he avoided like a plague. The Stepfordville. Yet, here he was, his eyes burning through the outside wall of the room he suspected Justin was in. As another car sped by, he glanced at the watch. Just after midnight. Carefully, he fished out his cell out of the pocket and started typing.
“I was looking out the windows thinking about the person I care most & the person that came into my mind is U so just wanna wish u good nite...”
With a small smile on his face and the quick return glance at Justin's window, he pressed SEND. Few minutes later, he watched a light go on in Justin's room. Probably searching for his cell, the twat….
And he knew it was time for the next stage of the plan.
***
(Another two and a half months came and went before he even realized. He filled his days with play dates with Gus and the weekly dinners at Deb's. Nobody ever asked him a thing about Justin or about the fact that he lost ten pounds he couldn't afford to lose. Brian wasn't sure at this point if they had other ways of communication with Justin, but considering the bond his partner…ex-partner shared with Deb, Daphne seemed to be the logical conclusion. After all, the young girl became sort of a secret confidant to him too. Not exactly mind boggling as it sounded, considering she was Justin's best friend and Brian's only link to the absent blond.
“Daphne, could you swing by the drugstore on your way to Debs and get some cough syrup for Gus?” Everyone seated at the table just stared at him in shock. When exactly have the two of them become bussom buddies?
“Oh and can you get me couple bottles of aspirin for the loft? Yeah, the strong ones.” He hung up and returned his attention back to Gus. It wasn't a widely known information, but ever since the bashing, he made a point to have a stock of painkillers in the medicine cabinet. The only thing that was missing from his life at the moment was the very person that needed that medicine the most.
When Daphne finally arrived, the three of them seemed to be stuck inside their own bubble. Everyone else tried to pull both of them into the ongoing conversations, but to the rest of the table, it seemed pretty useless. Brian, Daphne and Gus seemed to be on a completely different plain, their mutual interaction a huge question mark, that hung over their friends` heads.
That night when he got home, he checked his mail and found another letter from Justin. Second one so far in almost six months. It was, really, two letters more than he expected from Justin after the way things ended up between them. If he was honest, he must've read Justin's first letter about million times by now and each time, the hole inside him seemed to be growing bigger. He threw his jacket on the back of the sofa, unbuttoned his jeans and then proceeded to push them down and off his legs. He grabbed a bottle of JB from the bar and sunk deeper into the plushness of the sofa, the letter still firmly between his fingers.
Just to get things rolling, he took a healthy swig of the intoxicating liquid and carefully tore open the envelope. At the sight of Justin's handwriting, Brian inhaled and bit his lip. His hazel eyes followed each new word like a loyal friend and before he knew it, he finished the letter. The news that he was back in school made Brian smile a little with pride. It wasn't PIFA, Justin wrote, but The Art Institute of New York City was one of the better art schools on the West coast, so it was something. He added that he had the money for it and that things are as good as they could be, so there was no need for him to worry. Brian rolled his eyes. Like that was even possible. For Christ sake, the kid was miles away and he asked for him not to worry, even though he knew that for all it was worth, he could be sitting right beside him or vacationing on the Moon and nothing would change in that department for Brian. His eyes narrowed at the Post Scriptum in the bottom of the letter.
“And
P.S. Brian, this is the last letter that I'll send you. I know we disappointed each other and I'm really sorry for that. The truth is, as wild as our unconventional relationship was, I really enjoyed spending those four and a half years with you. I wish we had more time, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. Take care of yourself and be happy. Please. That's all I ever really wanted. For you to be happy. With or without me.
I'll always love you, Brian.”
No matter how many times he read it, he just couldn't shake the feeling of finality. This time, it was for real. Justin was saying goodbye to him. Not later, not see you. It was a goodbye in all its hurt and glory and God, Brian really hoped that the walls that were closing down on him were just a result of the liquor and aspirins mix he took at Debs. But somehow, he doubted. He simply closed his eyes and wished for the night to swallow him whole.)
***
The next thing was stuff that reminded him of Justin in some way. One day, it was an art book about Da Vinci and other big fathers of the art, the other was a music CD, that didn't feature a note of violin music. It wasn't big and it wasn't much, but it was something that made possible for Brian to stay in some kind of contact with Justin for the last two months since their split. Few days later, wrapped in a flowery paper (since that was the closest Brian ever came to sending Justin flowers) was a t-shirt, that had written on the front :
“I WAS IN BABYLON AND ALL I GOT WERE SLEAZY COMEONS. ANY SUGGESTIONS, SUNSHINE?”
He grinned as he signed for the package to be shipped. As far as he was concerned, things were moving along nicely. A couple more packages and something was bound to happen. He could hardly wait for it.
***
(Two weeks later, he was at the diner reading newspapers and waiting for the gang to join him for breakfast. Just as he turned the page, his eyes fell on the picture. It was Justin. The further he got, the paler he became and he could feel the coffee he just drank come right up.
“Late last night, one of Pittsburgh's rising stars in the art world, Justin Taylor, was rushed to the NYU Downtown hospital in critical condition. The circumstances aren't completely clear yet, but all signs point to domestic violence.”
Brian blinked, hoping he read it wrong. That definitely didn't sound like his Justin, but that same hollow feeling in his chest was back with the vengeance.
“At the moment, Mr. Taylor is under the care of the medical staff. He is out of the immediate danger, but it remains to be seen what further complications will this bring to this talented young man. We sincerely wish him fast recovery and all the best for the future.”
All nervous movements, Brian slid out of the booth and threw a twenty on the table with a low “Gotta go.” After he exited the diner, Michael grabbed the papers to see what was going on. As he kept on reading, he tried to quench the rising panic inside. Despite Brian's facade, he knew what Justin's absence did to Brian. He just hoped for good things to happen to his two friends from now on. God knew they both needed that.
Meanwhile, Brian was stuffing his jeans and shirts into a bag back at the loft. He swung by the bathroom and took his toiletries. Quickly, he pocketed his wallet and turned the lights off inside the loft. He locked the door and ran down the stairs to the car. He was a man on a mission and if God knew what's good for him, the trip to New York would be a short one.)
***
One of the last things to be sent to Justin was something that Brian usually wouldn't be caught dead buying. But knowing Justin, he would probably get the kick out of the damned thing. He watched with blizzard fascination, while a small, white FLOWER danced and sang ‘My only sunshine’. It seemed like the weirdest experience in his life, and that was saying a lot. Watching that thing shake its booty was something else, but if the truth was told, Brian knew and did much worse than that. Plus, since the night he met Justin, things he swore he'd never do, were a daily event. And the God honest truth was, Brian fucking loved every damn second of it. Even with all the ups and downs, just knowing that he had Justin on his side made it all better.
***
(Brian fought his way through the hospital to the reception desk.
“Please, can you tell me the number of Justin Taylor's room?” The nurse looked up from her papers.
“Sir, are you family?” Brian rubbed at his neck tiredly.
“I'm his partner.” The woman narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.
“Listen, I'm the closest thing to a family at the moment. His mother and his sister don't even know about this yet.” She nodded silently in understanding. She definitely hoped she would never have to except this kind of phone call about her own son.
“He's in a room 513, sir.” Brian nodded gratefully and hurried to the elevator.
In a blink of an eye, he was sitting beside Justin's bed. He tried to look away, but the purple bruises that covered every inch of Justin's almost translucent skin were like a magnet to his eyes. Gently, he picked Justin's right hand, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. Being here now after all this time seemed like a dream to him. He wasn't sure how Justin would react to him being here, but he couldn't be anywhere else. It took some time, but he was sure of it now. His place was wherever Justin was.
Two hours later, he felt Justin's hand twitch a little in his own. Slowly, he looked up and blue eyes were staring back at him. Tiny smile made Justin's face shine and the gesture alone made Brian's heart beat faster.
“Hey.” Justin whispered.
“Hey, sunshine.” Brian whispered back, his throat tight.
“You know, I've been waiting for you.” He said smiling widely, as if sharing a secret and Brian was lost, unable to stifle the uncharacteristic whimper that fell over his lips, as he buried his face in Justin's side. Solemnly, Justin ran his fingers through his hair, as if to a child and he felt, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, like he finally came home.)
***
Brian stood at the window, a cigarette in his hand and watched the outside world go about their business.. He felt the change in the air. Something was coming his way. Just then, he heard knocking on his door. He threw one last glance around the loft to memorize how it looked without Justin here and for a split moment, he made a silent wish for it to never happen again. On his way to the door, he got rid of the cigarette and pulled the heavy set door open. There before his eyes stood Justin, the t-shirt he sent him days before on, accompanied with the hugest smile Justin ever sported.
“I've been waiting for you, sunshine.” Brian returned the smile, his entire body tingling in expectation.
“Fuck Brian…Just shut up and kiss me.” Justin whispered and stepped into Brian's outstretched arms. And Brian did. And every time he slid inside Justin's pliant body, his ass tight around Brian's hard cock, needy moans and swallowed whimpers their only form of communication, Brian was damn sure of it all. Fuck everything else. Now, at this place and in this moment in time, life was absofuckinglutely perfect.
THE END