"What if ..." Brian had Left the Carnival with Justin With the help of Mookie’s University teachings xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The noise from the carnival cut off abruptly as Justin heard the heavy door slam shut behind him. He threw away the cigarette he had lit more for something to do with his hands than because he wanted the damn thing. He wanted Brian, but Brian appeared to have moved on with his life. Or rather it was life as usual for the older man. Tricks, tricks and more tricks. He stood in the doorway getting used to the cold and trying to decide whether to head for the diner or to go back to the rat hole he called home. At least Ethan wouldn’t be tricking. His friends might be assholes, but he came home to fuck. “Stupid fucker” Justin thought to himself. He almost wished Ethan was getting it somewhere else; he might actually leave him alone then. He could only tell the guy he had a headache so many times before even Ethan would catch on that his headache had greasy unwashed hair. The swoosh of the door opening behind him made Justin step forward and down a step to allow whoever it was to go past. Two strong arms wrapped around him and a familiar chin rested on Justin’s shoulder. Justin breathed deep almost swooning from the much missed smell of designer cologne, cigarettes, and beam combined in a heady perfume that said ‘Brian Kinney’. “Hey Sunshine, what’s your hurry?” Brian had enough to drink to allow those niggling ‘wish I had of saids’ to surface. He nuzzled Justin’s neck, tasting the sweet skin, using the unspoken excuse that he’d had too much to drink. “Brian, get off me.” Justin tried to squirm out from under the weight of the man he loved so that he could go back to the mistake who’s name was Ethan. “Can’t” Brian slurred unintentionally. “You make me hot every time I look at you. You should be against the law. Justin Taylor lethal weapon.” His voice became soft almost impossible to hear. “He can kill with his kisses, he ripped out my heart with his touch.” He paused. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I miss you Justin.” “You’re drunk Brian, I’m taking you home.” Justin wiggled until he had his shoulder under Brian’s arm and helped him to walk out to the curb. “Where did you park the jeep?” “No more jeep Justin. I needed something to prove I’m a man. A little lost twink therapy.” He patted the Corvette they were standing beside. “Did it work?” Justin asked as he took the keys from Brian’s hand, unlocked the car and helped him into the passenger side. “Nope, the twink is still lost in the land of the unwashed and I’m still an asshole.” Justin got behind the wheel of the old car, put the keys in and tried to figure out the controls. Brian slumped toward him, his head on Justin’s shoulder. “Brian, you have to sit over on your side if I’m ever going to get you home.” “Can’t go to the loft” “Why not?” “It’s too empty, my twink is gone.” He sighed dramatically “It makes me sad.” Justin managed to maneuver the car to Tremont. He lucked out and found a parking spot close by. Brian was dozing in the seat beside him. Going to Brian’s side of the car, he opened the door and managed to lever the tall uncooperative body out of the car and onto the sidewalk. “Let’s go Brian, it isn’t far now.” He managed to get Brian inside and into the elevator, dodging his amorous attentions. “Look Brian, cut it out, if I wanted to fuck some drunk, I’d go to Babylon.” Justin pushed Brian back once again, while retaining a hold on him so he wouldn’t fall. “Not drunk, baby, just had a couple.” Brian murmured. “You could have fooled me big guy.” Justin used the key he’d never given back to let himself into the loft. He coded the alarm, shut the door and managed to walk Brian over to the bedroom. The three stairs looked monumental, but Brian’s now ashen complexion told Justin that it would be a good plan to get him up and into the bathroom sooner rather than later. The phone rang; Justin let the answering machine pickup. “Brian, its Michael, and look I’m sorry I made you eat that one shrimp. Everyone who ate the fuckers got sick, I think they were ‘red tide’ shrimp; probably that’s why they were so cheap. Everyone’s ok now, and really purging is a good thing Ben told me that. It’s not like it’ll kill you. I’ll see if I can get my money back from the guy tomorrow. He has his blanket set up around the corner each day and he stays until his stuff is sold out. The rest of the night was spent with Justin discovering first hand that Brian ‘purging’ was not a pleasant thing. He could hardly wait until the sick man heard Mikey’s phone message. It was almost dawn when Justin was finally able to tuck Brian into bed. He kissed him on the forehead and whispered. “I love you Brian.” Before he left the loft and walked in the cold Pittsburgh dawn home to the bed he’d made. Brian woke up at noon, his head was about to fall off. He was naked and in bed and he had some recollection of being deathly ill most of the night, though there was no evidence of it. He stumbled into the bathroom. A lonely lit honey candle from Australia sat on the marble counter top. It’s fragrance washing away the negative spirits. On the other side of the counter away from the candle sat a piece of paper with the words. Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. Such wilt thou be to me, who must Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end, where I begun. John Donne