Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

Justin sat in silence as they drove, listening raptly to Brian as he regaled him with tales of their exploits around Liberty Avenue. He had mainly sat there mutely while Brian did most of the talking as he attempted to help fill in the gaps in Justin's memory. Actually, except for the events after the accident, and what few bits and pieces Justin recalled in his dreams, most of his past remained a total blank to him. He still felt like a spectator or a moviegoer, watching someone else's past playing out. Except it wasn't some stranger's past – it was his.

"Did I really put up all those posters against the police chief?" he asked Brian, his eyes wide as saucers as his partner told him about Stockwell's eventual, unsuccessful campaign for mayor, as well as his involvement with covering up his partner's role in Jason Kemp's unfortunate death.

"You sure did," Brian confirmed proudly, his pride in the other man obvious by the tone of his voice; only Justin had had the nerve to so blatantly exhibit his great dislike for Brian's client. He had also forced Brian to examine his own feelings and realize it was time for him to stand up for what was right and not back down. Yes, it had resulted in Brian losing his job ultimately, but it had also been the driving force behind Kinnetik, which continued even now to be a tremendous success. "You really created a big, fat fucking brouhaha," he told him, eyes twinkling and his lips curling under in amusement. "But that was the start, Justin. The start of his eventual downfall." He peered over at his partner, so relatively young in a lot of ways but so mature in many others. "You always stand on your principles, Sunshine, no matter what the consequences are. I've always admired that about you," he admitted softly, earning a look of surprise from the other man. "Don't look so shocked…..You've always known that. You just never made a big deal of it, that's all," he chided him.

"No, Brian," Justin answered quietly as he glanced over at him, his eyes suddenly tearing up. "You mean I used to know that. Before the accident." He sighed, the sorrow over his loss almost palpable. So many memories, so many feelings…..seemingly gone in an instant. And now this man – this beautiful, graceful, and giving man – was looking at him with his eyes full of hope and love. Hope that the Justin he used to know would somehow find his way back to him. Would his wish simply turn out to be a desperate, futile cry? The blond abruptly turned away to gaze out the window, too ashamed to look at those hazel eyes staring back at him tenderly. You don't deserve this, Brian. You don't deserve someone who is so broken, who may NEVER be whole again. The person you love – or it is loved? – may never appear again.

"Justin?" A soft, concerned whisper floated inside the car as Justin took a shallow, soft breath in through his lips, trying concertedly not to let the other man know how upset he presently was. Brian had enough going on right now without the added burden of his lover's growing worry that he may never regain his memories of their relationship.

He heard the other man sigh. "Talk to me, Justin," he was urged. "Look at me," was the heartfelt plea, as Justin felt the long fingers squeezing his thigh in an attempt to get his attention again. Swallowing the sorrow in his throat, he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and let out an inadvertent sniffle. Damn it – he did not want Brian any more concerned than he already was. Couldn't he do anything right?

Then he felt the warm hand leave his upper leg to caress his slightly damp cheek lightly, tenderly. Afraid to look back at him, but too affected by the gentle touch not to, Justin finally turned his head to look over at the creased and troubled face of his partner. "Tell me what's going through your mind, Sunshine," he murmured huskily as he held the blond's chin in his hand; Brian wanted desperately to pull the car over and comfort Justin, hold him tightly in his arms and never let him go until he knew just how much he still loved him, had never stopped loving him, even when he thought he was gone forever. But that fervent desire was tempered by his wish to get his partner back where he belonged – back in Pittsburgh with his friends and family. He only hoped that once they were back in familiar surroundings, somehow it would help Justin to remember his part in all of it.

So with a heavy heart, Brian returned his hand to Justin's leg and kept driving, peering over frequently to look at the other man and hoping he would open up to him. Finally after several seconds, he heard a soft whisper of confession. "I'm afraid, Brian."

"Afraid?" he urged gently. "What are you afraid of?" Just the thought of this strong, independent but vulnerable man being afraid of something else in addition to what he had already gone through in his relatively short life broke his heart.

Taking a ragged breath and letting it out, Justin clarified, "I'm afraid of losing everything I remembered. I'm afraid of having to start all over again. I don't WANT to start over again, Brian." Squaring his shoulders, he finally admitted his deepest fear. "I'm afraid I won't ever remember what we meant to each other. I don't want to disappoint you. If I don't remember, it will be like you've lost me all over again." Biting his lip fretfully, he asked the other man pointedly, "Is it worth it, Brian? Is it worth the terrible pain that might result?"

That was it; Brian couldn't stand it any longer. Fuck Pittsburgh and their friends; right now, there were more important matters to take care of. Seeing a rest stop coming up, he veered the rental car toward the exit ramp, receiving a puzzled look from his passenger. Smiling a little to try and reassure him that everything was all right, he slowed the vehicle and stopped in one of the parking spaces.

As Brian opened the door and walked around the car, Justin remained seated, wondering what in the world was going on. He looked up as Brian opened his door and held out his hand to him. "Let's take a walk," he asked softly, a tender smile on his face. Come on, Sunshine. I'm not going anywhere until you come WITH me. You're not getting rid of me THAT easily. He continued to stand there stubbornly until finally he saw the blond reach around and unlatch his seatbelt. Brian's heart leapt as he saw a pale, slender hand reach out and grasp his own softly, tentatively. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he noticed the almost shy, nervous expression on his partner's face. The blue eyes gazed at him uncertainly as he let the brunet gently pull him out of the car, never letting go of his hand.

The smaller hand was as soft and warm as Brian had remembered it; he relished the familiar feel as Justin's fingers almost automatically curved around his by instinct. As he glanced over at Justin, he couldn't help thinking, do you remember, too, Sunshine? Do you remember ANY of this? He bit down his disappointment that there wasn't more of an obvious response from his partner as the two continued to walk hand-in-hand away from the relatively small crowd at the tourist information building. Brian had no interest in interacting with anyone else, or speaking to anybody except the man whose hand he was currently holding.

They walked silently for several yards until Brian led them over to a lone picnic table sitting on an elevated hilltop overlooking a heavily-wooded valley below; the trees had finally all regained their leaves after a damp, brown-looking winter and the vibrant green of the scenery helped, however minutely, to quench his spirit and his hope.

Motioning for Justin to join him on the bench, they sat side-by-side quietly as Brian continued to hold his hand, lightly drawing circles over the blond's knuckles absentmindedly. He sighed silently before finally beginning to answer the question that Justin had asked several minutes before, startling his partner slightly at the sound of his voice.

"You asked me in the car whether it was worth it…whether it was worth maybe the pain that it might cause. I'd like to try and answer that." Justin looked over at him curiously, noticing how serious the other man's expression was. Was this heartfelt orating typical for Brian? He had no way of knowing. But he found himself entranced by the solemn expression on the other man's face.

"You….can't really know this. Not now. Not the way you are presently. But I was never good at expressing myself – at least to the people who needed to hear it the most." He grimaced as he added, "That was no doubt thanks to my wonderful parents. I told you about Michael – my best friend. He and I grew up together and he and Debbie probably saved my fucking sanity by taking me in and watching over me when my old man tried to beat the shit out of me and my mother just didn't care." He picked up a stray leaf that had floated down onto the table and absently twirled it as he continued, Justin's eyes never leaving him. "I grew up thinking that if you ever let anyone know how you really felt, you were seen as weak, dependent. After the way my father treated me – his own flesh and blood – I vowed that I would never let anyone inside to see the real me. To know how I really felt. I thought if I didn't tell them, I couldn't get hurt."

He looked up to peer into the soft blue eyes he knew so well. His own eyes were shining now with unshed tears as he softly continued. "I kept feeling that way," he said, biting his lower lip briefly to calm himself; his heart was beating rapidly as his partner kept staring at him so intently. "I felt that way…until I met you. You were without a doubt the most stubborn, obstinate, persistent and annoying little twat I had ever met," he disclosed truthfully, actually receiving a soft, brief and somewhat affronted snort from the other man. "At the time we met, I was Brian Kinney, King of his Castle, and if you had the privilege of meeting me, and getting fucked by me, you were damn lucky." As Justin's eyebrows rose at his boast, he admitted, "That's how I felt. I was definitely the quintessential fuck-'em and leave-em kind of guy. Maximum pleasure, minimum bullshit was my motto," he added, hoping that comment would somehow register with the other man, but silently disappointed that it evidently did not. "And at first, you were just going to be another notch in my belt of conquests," he admitted, now somewhat ashamed to think that he could have ever thought that way about this unique, wonderful person now staring back at him.

"I…..I think maybe in a weird sort of way, you scared the fucking shit out of me," he confessed. "You just wouldn't take no for an answer – when I tried to push you away, you just kept taking it. In fact, it seemed the harder I pushed, the harder you pushed back. You may have been young…..uh, at least younger than me," he explained, not wanting to sound like he was older than dirt himself. "But you sure were a determined little fucker," he told the other man, not quite able to hide the affection and respect in his voice.

"And after a while," he said softly. "I…..I forgot why I was trying so hard to push you away. You became friends with the group I hung out with – Debbie gave you that inane Sesame Street nickname to seal the deal – and all of a sudden you were firmly entrenched with the rest of the gang." He looked down, almost embarrassed to admit his innermost feelings even now. "And you were firmly entrenched in my heart, too…..but I couldn't let you know that. Not then, at least."

When Brian stopped to catch his breath – he hadn't noticed he had practically been holding it as he spoke to his lover about their relationship – Justin took the opportunity to ask him softly, "When did you?" As Brian looked at him confused, he explained, "When did you tell me….how you felt?"

Brian smiled at the memory. "Well, I guess it's ironic after the role models I had with my mother the ice queen and my for-shit abusive father that I would wind up being more of the feely-touchy type when it came to expressing how I felt….about you, I mean," he replied. "But that's what happened. Somehow it was easier to show you how I felt instead of telling you. That is….until the bombing." He closed his eyes as a flash of pain appeared; even now after almost two years the hurt was still fresh and raw when he revisited that night when he almost lost the man he loved so deeply; the man he thought he HAD lost two weeks ago but was now sitting next to him, his warm leg brushing up against his and the achingly familiar scent of his body so comforting.

"Brian?" Justin whispered, concerned, squeezing the other man's fingers in a silent reassurance that he was right there with him – alive. Brian nodded and opened his eyes to drink in the wondrous sight once again. He would never get tired of looking at him – never. "The bombing at Babylon," Justin said - it was a statement, though, not a question.

Brian nodded. "Yes," he breathed out a ragged response as his body actually shuddered slightly at the recollection. "I was worried about Michael – he was seriously hurt that night. But I was totally frantic with worry that you had been hurt – or worse." He huffed out a breath to release some of the tension before continuing. "That was the night…..when I held you in my arms, and you were warm and alive and unhurt ….that was the first night I actually told you that I loved you."

Justin looked at him sadly but fondly, touched by this man's heartfelt confession. The depth of his love for him was almost frightening; it brought him back to his initial worry that he had expressed in the car. "Brian….." he began anew.

"No, Justin," Brian answered him resolutely. "Let me finish…..please. You asked me if it was worth it…worth the possible pain that might happen if you can never remember what we had." Justin nodded, lines of worry creasing his forehead in response. "Well, if you knew how we had felt – shit, how I still feel and will always feel – you wouldn't have to ask that. Because you would know that hell, yes, it's worth it! For a chance to get back what we had –God, yes!"

Justin continued to look at him with guilt and regret written all over his face. Brian shook his head; what could he say to make him understand? Understand that he wanted to do this, that he HAD to do this?

Seemingly off the subject, he disclosed to his lover, "I had to take one of those totally unrelated, liberal arts courses in college for my major. It was some type of poetry class, for fuck's sake!" he growled, receiving a look of sympathy from the other man. "I thought I would absolutely, positively HATE it! But you know – and if you ever admit this to anyone that I said this, I will have to tear your balls off – I actually liked it. I liked the order of the stanzas, the creative ways in which the different poets chose to express themselves. I would never be caught dead in a million years reciting poetry – I don't care how fucking much you were responsible for actually getting me to reveal my feelings out loud," he advised the other man, who smiled back at him slightly.

"But if it helps," he revealed, "I do remember part of a poem that went something like, "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." Looking over at his partner somewhat sheepishly in awkard embarrassment, he nevetheless plunged ahead. "Well, Sunshine, after the tears I've shed in the last two weeks, we should certainly be in for a whole LOT of joy. And I intend to collect it with YOU. Only you. Are you willing to reap it with me?" God, Brian suddenly thought, I sound like a fucking LESBIAN here.

But as he stood up and tenderly pulled the other man to his feet, the look of happiness on the other man's face was worth every ounce of silly, uncomfortable sentimentality, because Justin leaned in to gently fold him into a heartstopping, long-awaited embrace before he whispered back to him, "Yes – I'm willing."

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