Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

Sorry for the looong break in chapter posting. I am still always working on this story. Real life was busy!!!

 

 

When Brian eventually did move from the bed, it was to get a shower. He didn’t announce his plans, simply rising up from the sheets like Poseidon from the sea, and padding loftily across the floor. Justin’s iridescent blue eyes tracked his form as he disappeared into the bathroom. Seconds later, the spray of water could be heard meeting tile.

Justin forced himself to lie there a moment longer, amazed at where he’d found himself in so short a time. A quick glance to the clock showed it to be nearly 1:30 in the morning. “So much for self-control,” Justin muttered lazily to himself, belatedly adding a sarcastic, “‘The Brian Kinney method of memory restoration.’ Yeah right. More like the Brian Kinney method of clothing removal.” A strained lift of the head showed the trail of clothes that both men had left across the loft, ending with two pairs of black boxer briefs. Justin kicked at where their underwear tangled at the foot of the mattress.

Okay so you let him fuck you, you liked it, and you’ll probably do it again. That’s fine. But don’t let him keep you here, Justin’s conscience asserted. Such a move would further destroy barriers that he wasn’t yet sure he wanted to be broken down. The gaping lack of affection in his heart for the other man was evidence enough of that. Brian was a big boy, Justin told himself. He could handle sleeping alone. Besides, the young artist knew that he had a morning meeting with Van Dorn the next day. That was the practical reason he’d spit out at Brian when he announced that he’d have to go. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too much angst on that front.

Justin scrubbed hands over his eyes, still contemplating what it might mean for them now that they’d been together again. In his head he replayed what they’d done. He could still taste the salt of the other man’s skin as he’s kissed it, bit it. He could still smell the fading trace of his cologne, feel the grasp of his hands, the scrape of his teeth; hear the sounds of his moans. And then there had been…

“Come on. Put it in me. Fuck me.”

Justin lolled his head back into the pillow with a sigh. Yep, he had said that. He could still feel Brian in his body, thrusting against him as they both worked so hard for it. Well they’d gotten it, and now Brian was in the shower and Justin was lying here all sticky and worried. Kind of typical, when he thought about it.

Now he’d be sore for the next day at least, and he wasn’t even sure if the reminder would be a welcome one or not. He’d never have thought the other man would touch him like that after they’d been apart for so long. But Brian had whispered sweet things to him, had been so fucking gentle with him even after Justin had more than made it clear that he wasn’t in love with him anymore. Where had the imperviously-shielded God Kinney disappeared to?

“Well I never said I minded if you took advantage of me…”

Justin nearly grimaced as he remembered what Brian had said. He had taken advantage after all. Because Brian was still head over heels for him, and now he probably thought they were freaking moving back in together. Lying there overthinking things, the young blonde wondered if that really was what the older man took it for. Did Brian now think that they were back together again?

Jesus, he mused. He’d never been made to feel like the less emotional of the two of them, freaking wondering what BRIAN was reading into things. That had always been the other man’s job. And all this angsting was borderline pushing even Justin’s limits of how much lesbionic fretting he could handle. It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for women; was this how they went around feeling all the time? Worrying about how they felt, how other people felt, how they all felt in conjunction with one another? Ugh.  

Wincing as he sat up, Justin could feel the remains of their sex against his body. “Ugh,” he grumbled, almost wishing that he could feel tired like a regular human. Falling asleep in Brian’s insanely comfortable bed and dreaming for a while would have been nice. But such wishes were wasted, and the next thing he knew his name was being called over the shower spray from the bathroom,

“Hey Princess, get your ass in here and we can play this great game I know. It’s called ‘Hide the Soap.’”

Justin smirked despite himself and shook his head, muttering under his breath, “You always win that one.” But he went into the shower anyways.

---

“Are you really just going to stand there and pout like that?”

Brian scowled. “I’m not ‘pouting,’ I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

About: how I know you were here.” From the bedroom stairs, a meaningful stare was fixed upon the younger man. “Here in the loft.”

Justin was sitting on the edge of Brian’s treadmill, tying his sneakers. Freshly-showered, he’d announced that he had every intention of leaving, and the surly brunette hadn’t liked that one bit. He’d been standing there, fucking staring and brooding, for nearly ten minutes. “What are you talking about?” Justin asked. “How would you not know?”

“You’ve been in here before now, since the accident,” Brian replied, as if revealing a secret. “When I was out.”

Left shoe half-way laced, Justin froze. “Yeah?” he finally uttered nonchalantly. “Why do you say that?”

“Did you really think you could take anything without me noticing? Let alone that drawing? It was propped in front of the TV.”

“It was mine.” At Brian’s unfavorable glare, Justin added, “Why’d you take it from the studio anyways?”

“You were going to die. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

The blonde’s lips parted in disbelief. He scoffed, “Well I suppose an artist’s works do increase in value postmortem.”

“That’s not the point. Why were you here sneaking around?” Brian asked. It bothered him that Justin hadn’t wanted him to know about the visit to the loft. It’d driven him nuts from the very beginning, when he’d first learned that Justin wasn’t desperate to go right back to where they’d left off. Because it was definitely much too strange a thing, for Brian to be the one who was more comfortable with commitment. That’d always been Justin’s role. Agitated, Brian pulled a cigarette from his jeans pocket—the only clothing he’d deemed necessary to wear. He lit it, and after a hurried drag added, “You were purposefully avoiding me. But what I don’t get is, if you didn’t want to see me then why come back to snoop at all?”

Justin couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. Brian probably thought the eye roll was at the question, but really it was more at the man’s unintentional pose at the bedroom’s edge. He looked like sex, selling cigarettes. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” Justin lied. “Just because you weren’t here when I came over—”

“—in broad daylight. That must have taken some effort.”

Justin had gotten his shoe on, and stood up to his full height. “Look: I took the drawing because it wasn’t finished and I like to finish what I start. I avoided you because I can’t remember you. Why does this matter so much?”

“Cant?” Brian barely looked at him as he asked.

“Can’t what?”

“You said: you can’t remember me. Can’t or won’t?”

Justin’s lips parted. “Oh my god. That’s not fair. Can’t Brian. Can’t.” Raising his arms, he insisted exasperatedly, “I’m sorry if I avoided you, if I’m not recovering fast enough for you, but I am trying. I fucking slept with you, for Christ’s sake!”

Brian blew out a ring of smoke, forcing himself not to scoff at the younger man’s argument. Having sex with Brian Kinney wasn’t some capstone experience. Plenty of people who didn’t give a fuck about him did that. What had always made Justin special was that he’d wanted more than a fuck. He’d just wanted to BE with him. Now the blonde was standing there tying his sneakers, and it seemed that it was up in the air as to whether he’d be back again. “You really don’t feel anything?” he asked as dispassionately as he could, though the thought made his heart ache.

“Not yet.”

Yet. That one word was the promise Brian wanted to hear. That word meant that Justin intended to keep trying. But the self-serving man couldn’t exactly let Justin think that he was all bent out of shape about it. Brian tried hard to never get “bent out of shape.” So instead he muttered, “Christ Justin, don’t act so put-upon. I didn’t expect you to fall in love with me.” But it would be nice, he thought privately. He was beginning to miss his old partner. The one that’d forced his way into Brian’s life and refused to leave.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Justin said quietly. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you.”

“Right. Your big meeting with Van Dorn.” Brian sucked on his cigarette again. “His son almost killed you.”

“Glad to hear it’s now ‘almost killed.’” Justin shrugged, “And it’s my biggest account. I need the money.”

Brian resisted the urge to point out that Justin would never need any money, if he was still in their relationship. The darker man had plenty of money, but he knew the young vampire would never accept that now. Little miss independent. “Do what you have to do,” was what he said instead. “But take that book on the desk.” He watched sullenly as Justin walked over and picked the item up off of the desk, fingers quickly flipping through the pages.

“It’s empty.”

“Excellent observation,” Brian simpered. “Write in it. It’s a journal.”

“Is that supposed to do something?” Justin asked.  “Another step to the Brian Kinney Method?”

“Maybe.” The look on Brian’s face could nearly be called wistful. “Just take it. Write in it.”

Justin sighed. “What am I supposed to write?” It seemed silly, though if Brian had a suggestion, he’d listen.

But Brian just gave one of those mysterious smiles that could mean everything or nothing, depending on what you wanted. He continued to smoke as Justin slid open the door, journal in hand. He felt relief that at least the other man was taking the book with him, not leaving it there. “Write about your memories,” he said. “You still have them. Maybe it’ll trigger something.”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” Tucking the journal under his arm, he made to leave. But a moment’s hesitation in the hallway had him leaning back to offer, “…I want you to know that I’m not sorry I came here. And… I’ll um, I’ll call.”

“You do that Sunshine.” Brian said, and despite the awkward mood of their parting, he at least had the consolation that the little amnesic twerp didn’t call him out on the stupid no-nickname rule.

---

“Congratulations Mr. Taylor. Another productive meeting.”

Hours-in, Justin was still wearing his tailored suit, donning his biggest bullshit professional smile, and nodding his head pleasantly as he said, “Thank you, Ms. Grimes. I’m glad you liked the new materials.”

“Oh, the concepts are inspired. Senator Lacey had better watch his incumbent ass once these mock ups go to print.”

The blonde vampire grinned, mindful not to flash too much fang. So far, he’d found that most people tended to act very awkward, or scared—or both—once he did that. And to be frank, he was damned lucky that his most lucrative gig hadn’t dropped him the second they’d found out about his new status. Van Dorn was a liberal candidate, but supporting gay rights and being publicly okay with vampires were two different things. In response to the woman’s comments, Justin was reiterating, “It’s a jarring concept, but like I said: the demographics you’re courting aren’t afraid of a bold statement as long as it rings true, and honest. This will work, trust me.”

“My, my, you certainly are confident.”

“Sometimes you have to be. Besides,” he said, stealing a quote from Brian, “I don’t really have bad ideas.”

“That remains to be seen,” she smirked. “But it’s late…”

Justin raised his eyebrows. That was his cue to bow out. “Yeah. I should go I guess. We’re the only ones left.” Behind their backs, the abandoned conference room loomed, the only traces of the others their water glasses and a few cheap ballpoint pens. Justin and the newly-introduced campaign manager lingered and exchanged final pleasantries at the door to the Van Dorn estate’s dining-slash-conference room. Their meeting had dragged on for nearly the whole day. From his stance against the doorframe, Justin shook the woman’s proffered hand. “Thanks for all of your help today.”

“I should say the same for you. I do hope that the daytime meeting wasn’t too much of a hassle for you.” The tidy woman gave an apologetic smile, seemingly uncertain of how to address the elephant in the room: Justin hadn’t been a vampire when he’d been hired on for the project, but now he was. Not everyone at the meeting had seemed to know what to say—or not say—about it. Thankfully, most had simply refrained from comment at all. “The limo will of course be able to drive you home in another garage to garage transfer,” Ms. Grimes was offering again.

“I appreciate it. Let me know what the polls show in the next week or so, and when we’ll need to schedule another of these meetings.” Justin shook the woman’s hand a final time, and watched as she trailed out the front door like all the rest had done. The door closed, eliminating the sight of her, and for the first time the young artist let his posture lag. A long exhale left his lips as he found himself wishing for some food, and for the ability to drop into bed and conk out. “Give up on that one, Taylor,” he reprimanded himself aloud for the wish. The chords of his voice echoed slightly against the polished marble of the foyer, bare and hollow as a cave. Once again, he found himself alone in the large house. Glancing back at the abandoned conference space, he was glad that at least this time there wasn’t a mess of materials to clean up. The windows at the front of the house showed that the sun had just about set, and Justin knew that if he ventured to the garage from the home’s front entrance, he’d be safe enough in the twilight.

 

Inside the garage was the limo, but the driver was not to be found. Justin peered about impatiently, kind of hoping that he’d be able to get home soon and eat. Despite everyone on the campaign’s sensitive reaction to his new “condition,” the catered lunch had been lacking in its selection of plasma-based beverages. “Hello?” he called out, hearing only his own voice echoing back to him from concrete walls. “Anybody there?” There was a long pause of silence. Justin sighed.

“…I’m here.”

The voice sounded so timidly, that it barely startled the blonde vampire. He turned around, blue eyes widening in surprise at who it was. “Skylar,” he uttered, freezing in place. The redhead was sitting atop one of the garage’s workbenches, hands clasped near his knees and feet dangling inches from the floor. He looked as healthy as ever, no injuries or trauma seemingly marring his body. Justin blinked, not quite knowing what he’d expected. Despite the crash, the blonde hadn’t thought much about the auburn-haired man in past weeks. He’d been too preoccupied with his own troubles. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Justin admitted, stepping a little closer. “Are you… how have you been? What happened to you?”

From his spot feet away, Skylar looked a little embarrassed. “I’m fine. They treated me for some cuts and bruises at the hospital. But… fuck Justin: I didn’t even have a concussion.” The red-head’s eyes looked pleadingly at the other man. “But you…” He shook his head a little. “Once I got up and figured out what the hell was happening, I tried to get you out of the water faster, I swear. But you were caught on the bike.”

“Hey,” Justin murmured. A step closer, and he was then fighting the urge to place a comforting hand on Skylar’s shoulder. The man looked fraught with guilt as he continued to explain,

“You wouldn’t move once I had you on the grass, and I tried to do CPR but the paramedics took fucking forever to show up and the bike was trashed, I had no way to move you…” A shuddering breath racked the other man. “And at the hospital they wouldn’t tell me anything. Then your boyfriend beat me up and—“

“—God, I still can't believe he did that," Justin grumbled, astounded at his ex-partner's gall. "How bad was it really?"

“We had an… altercation in the lobby. He wasn’t too happy that I drove you into a river. Gave me a black eye. Not that I blame him. God! How could I have been so stupid! I heard you were in a coma, and then they turned you into a, into a, you know…”

“A vampire?”

Skylar winced. “Shit. I am so sorry. I NEVER meant for any of this to happen. I deserved to get beat up by your boyfriend.”

Wryly, Justin thought that it certainly had been a very Brian thing to do. The older man had never been able to abide people who hurt his lover. Hell, he'd even punched Michael out for trash talking him once. It was almost sweet in a way. “You didn’t mean to crash,” Justin offered, clearly able to see how anxious this was all making the other man. “I don’t blame you for it, and even if Brian did, he shouldn’t have attacked you.”

Some measure of relief flooded through Skylar’s eyes at the other man’s offer of forgiveness. “I thought you’d want to kill me,” he admitted quietly. “After what I did. Isn’t it hard? Being a vampire?”

Justin tried not to frown. “Yes, but I’m working through it. Look there’s really no point on dwelling on it anymore. There’s nothing you need to do…” Justin paused, a thoughtful look coming to his face. Considering, he ventured, “Buuut, if you really feel bad about what happened, there may be something you can do for me.”

“What?” Skylar asked eagerly. But then his confidence slipped into worry. “You’re not… hungry, are you?”

The blonde merely rolled his eyes at the fearful question. As a matter of fact, he was hungry. But that hadn’t been what he’d had in mind. “Actually no,” he answered, eyes sliding over to the tarp-covered form of a motorbike. “I need a sort of favor.”

---

Getting on the bike hadn’t been terrifying at all.

That hadn’t been what Justin expected. After all, shouldn’t you be afraid of the thing that nearly killed you? He’d been scared shitless of Chris Hobbs after the bashing, but riding on the back of a motorcycle again evoked no such emotions in him. The blonde tried hard not to acerbically tell himself that that was probably because he had no emotions anymore. He knew that such a thing wasn’t true. Aiden had forced him to admit that in therapy over and over, to prevent the younger vampire from falling into one of his spirals of anger and self-loathing. Hopping off of the motorbike to face the crumpled guardrail of an innocuous footbridge, Justin still didn’t feel scared though. He felt shocked. He’d had Skylar drive them all the way out here, to the middle of bumfuck nowhere Butler County, so that they could retrace the steps of that fateful afternoon.

Justin toed the worn paving of the road where they stood. “This is where it happened?” he asked, even though he could remember clear as day.

“Yeah.” Skylar had lingered back towards the bike, almost as if he didn’t want to stray very far from it. “Right there.”

Justin walked close to the edge of the bridge. So this was it, he thought. This was one of those mundane places where your life was changed so suddenly, so drastically as to impart a monumental importance onto the location, despite its seeming insignificance. Just like the parking garage, it was a huge fucking deal. “I can’t believe it,” Justin murmured, fingers reaching out to run over the twisted edges of the mangled guard rail.

“Believe what?” Skylar asked from behind.

“That this happened to me. To us. We crashed bad, didn’t we?” Justin wasn’t sure he remembered the actual crash. Just the before and after parts.

“It was fast,” Skylar was answering. “Fast and hard. It hurt. You’d never think a six foot drop into four feet of water would hurt so much.”

“I’m glad you got away alright,” Justin said with a glance back at the red haired man. “That almost makes it better for me. To know that you were okay.”

Skylar looked almost embarrassed at his own outcome. “Justin I swear to god I tried to get you out.”

“Of course you did.” Justin waved him off while staring thoughtfully down at the grey water of the stream. Funny: it had seemed so clear when he was staring back up at the sky from underneath it. It had been terrifying under that cold, oxygen-sucking weight. If he closed his eyes, he could perfectly picture the scene from that day. He’d struggled against the backpack, hooked so viciously to the motorcycle. The feeling of terror had lessened as time had gone on, and in its place had come an astonishment at the knowledge that he knew exactly how and when he was going to die. He hadn’t been scared to know. Just astonished.

Suddenly, Justin felt an urge to go down to the cold place where his human life had all but ended. It was unreasonable, but he wanted to touch the water, to step on the gravelly bottom. What he would do once he was down there, the vampire had no clue. But for some insane reason, he followed the urge, and sat down to slide himself over the edge of the bridge.

“Hey! What the hell?!” Like his cry at the dog in the road when the motorcycle slid sideways, Skylar’s exclamation now was barely regarded. And if it was regarded, it was regarded too late.

Justin didn’t land gracefully in the stream, but rather landed with three quarters of his body lying in it, feet scrabbling for purchase. He grimaced at the water that felt just as cold as it had when he’d been human, and allowed his body to sink under altogether. Underneath, there was nothing to breath and nothing to hear. Silent and airless.

And that was the trigger.  When he’d been dying in the stream, there had been no air and he couldn’t breathe. Justin could remember the burning ache of his lungs as he’d tried so hard to stay conscious—a losing fight. There had been no sound from the world either, only the sound of his own thrashing, the fabric of his backpack snagging. Now, the sensation of that oxygen-less world sparked something in Justin, and he blacked out into the memory of that last morning at the loft: Brian picking at him for his clothes and his bruises, him making fun of Brian for his juicer, Brian teaching him the first few steps to the bachata, and the dance descending into them having lazy morning sex for the millionth time. For the last time.

“We waltzed at my prom. You twirled me and you dipped me—all while everybody but Daphne looked on horrified, mind you. And I never had to guess what the next step would be, because you just led me into it.”

Brian had stared at him in awe, hazel eyes warming to amber. He hadn’t known Justin could remember so well. And they’d stripped all of their clothes off to go back to the bedroom again. Justin had felt so happy, so safe. He’d always been safe with Brian. Happy, safe, comforted. The feelings came back, rushing around him like a flood of warm water interrupting the cold.

Under the stream’s current, Justin returned from his memory and stared through the water with wide eyes. All warmth from the blackout gone.  Frantic, he clawed his way through the three feet of stream before he broke with the surface, face dripping and breath smoking against the chilled air. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, body already racked with shivers from his hypothermia-inducing move. But even with Skylar shouting curses from the bridge, and his body wracked with chills, the blonde vampire could only smile. Happy, safe, comforted; all of those old feelings felt in relation to Brian.

He’d gotten some more of his memory back.

---

At his desk, Brian flipped through the packet of documents that Ted had just handed him. “I hate paperwork,” he muttered.

“That’s why I do all of it for you,” Ted replied dryly. “Sign where all the little red X’s are and your part’s done.”

“Remind me why I’m giving Stuart what’s-his-face a promotion?” Brian asked, starting in on the first of about twenty required signatures.

“He set up the new film division.” No recognition from the seated man. “He’s the reason you have your own sound stage?” the accountant supplied hopefully at his friend’s blank stare. Still, nothing. “Um, I believe you fucked him in the copy room last week??”

Brian’s eyes livened, “Oh yeah, him. He’s very… talented.”

“Luckily in more ways than one,” Ted uttered, taking the signed papers back from his boss. “Now that that’s squared away, can I ask you about Justin?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you said you’ve seen him and everybody’s wondering—”

“BRRRING, BRRRING!” Brian all but shouted, reaching in faux-astonishment for his desk phone. “Will you look at that?!” he exclaimed with high eyebrows. “My my, being in charge of everything is such hard work. I’m sorry Theodore, but I’ve just got to take this.” The receiver in his hand, the suave man gave his friend a look that said he was clearly excused. And sighing, Ted took the hint and left. Alone again, Brian could finally breathe a sigh of relief. That morning had been nonstop from the moment he’d walked through the bathhouse doors. Who knew yogurt would be such hard work? Brian thought sardonically. Eight AM to noon had been meetings, conference calls, letters and emails, team briefings, scheduling everything under the sun, and more meetings. It was enough to make a man want to nap. Briefly, Brian considered his office couch with a wistful look.

But then his eyes caught sight of his intercom light bleeping away, and he chuckled. “And it keeps on coming,” he announced to no one in particular. All he’d wanted to do that morning was drink his latte and think about Justin. He’d just about had it with throwing himself into work. “What next?” he asked Cynthia once he’d picked up the line.

“Personal call for you,” she announced, and—perhaps so as not to get her boss’s hopes up—she added, “It’s not Justin.”

“Put her through,” Brian drawled. Vacantly, he wondered when his personal calls had become sortable by the labels “Justin” and “Not Justin.” The phone clicked over to Brian’s main office line, and he addressed the person on the other end without having to ask who it was. Their little chats had practically become a daily ritual, after all. “Mother Taylor,” he greeted, his voice saccharine.

“Hello Brian,” Jennifer replied almost resignedly. “How is everyone?”

“Same old, same old.”

“That’s good. I called to tell you that I’m planning to fly back for a long weekend soon.”

Brian doodled carelessly on a notepad as he listened. “Why on earth would you want to visit the Pitts?” he asked. “Why now?”

“Because I heard a rumor,” she said seriously.

 “Tricky little bastards, those are.”

“Debbie said you’ve seen Justin again, since Babylon.” There was only silence offered from Brian’s end of the line, so Jennifer pressed, “He’s my son Brian. I would’ve expected you to tell me the second he showed up again. You said that you would!”

“It slipped my mind,” he replied defensively. “I was kind of involved with him too at one point, so that took precedence.”

Her voice softer, Jennifer ventured, “Debbie said that Michael said you had him over to the loft. He said you were able to talk with him. Is he back home now?”

“Home?” Brian shot out. “No, he’s not home.What does that even mean? he wondered acerbically. That he’s reinstated his toothbrush in the bathroom? Brian thought that he never should have told his best friend about the other night. Michael had blabbed to Debbie, and now Debbie had, by nature, told absolutely everyone else. The news had even spread to Arizona, for Christ’s sake. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, the executive asked, While she was ‘sharing,’ did Debbie by any chance happen to tell you about your son’s mental imbalance?” Brian should have chosen his words more tactfully. He could practically hear Jennifer’s frown in her words,

“Yes she did. But he’s overcome brain injuries before, and if anyone could help him through this it’s you. I thought that once you, you know: got with him and um… talked—”

“—you mean fucked,” Brian interjected. Ever since the Bashing, Jennifer had had it in her head that Justin would do whatever Brian said, so long as he took his shirt off while he said it. And while the experienced man did like to consider himself persuasive, Jennifer’s gay anti-hero imagery had begun to rival Debbie’s, and frankly it was a lot to live up to. “I can’t make everything better with my cock,” he finished boldly.

“Jesus Brian, I didn’t say that!”

“I’m just saying. He’s been ‘home.’ He’s been with me. He doesn’t have all his shit together and he feels like he has to stay away until he does. That’s his plan and I haven’t been able to talk the little twat out of it yet.”

For her part, Jennifer seemed to take the pronouncement in stride. “Do you think he’d call me to talk?”

“I don’t think he’d want to,” was Brian’s honest answer. “And I think it’s a waste of money to fly over here at this point. Any other questions?”

“What is he like?” she asked delicately. “Is he alright? Physically I mean.”

Brian sighed, not able to stop his gaze from sliding over to the framed picture of Justin on his desktop. The Justin he knew now barely resembled the one in that old photograph, but Brian was hopeful that he’d come back to it. “Physically, he’s top notch. Being a vampire cures everything, apparently. But he’s got sharp teeth and he smiles a lot less,” Brian explained. “He’s okay I think. He’s alive.” Alive. Weeks ago he might not have used the word, but time spent with his ex-lover had him rethinking it all. And he knew that it was something that the kid’s mother would be pleased to hear. “You almost lost him forever,” Brian offered, “Try to be glad that he still exists, and I’ll try to get him to come around.”

The line crackled with the sound of Jennifer’s sigh, and she said, “Oh, you’re right. I just hate waiting like this.”

“Don’t we all,” Brian muttered. “I’ll keep you informed, but I do have to go,” he excused. “Yogurt is calling.”

If the comment confused her, the woman didn’t say anything. But she did offer a heartfelt, “Thank you Brian, for everything.”

Brian nodded, unseen, feeling awkward as hell but also unexpectedly accustomed to this interaction with the mother of his old partner. “You’re welcome,” he said.

It was obvious to both parties that they’d made their peace with each other. Jennifer knew she was stuck with Brian, just as the dark haired man knew that he was stuck with her. Jennifer kept private the fact that the outrageous man had actually grown on her, if for nothing else than how he’d made her son a happier, stronger person. And of course Brian would sooner make out with his de-facto mother in law, than admit that he actually respected her for her tolerance of him. Jennifer would always have to be slapped in the face with what a debauching nihilist her son had attached himself to, and Brian would always have to be reminded that he had so indentured himself to a lover that he was on speed-dial terms with the man’s mother. But what was family without small sacrifices?

Before they hung up, Jennifer somehow managed to utter one final thing, though she sounded downright pained as she said it. “And Brian? As far as getting him back goes… you could show a little affection. He’s always been crazy about you and if physical affection—”

Brian cut her off, not yet perfectly comfortable with being outright told to fuck a grown-ass woman’s son. “Right. Got it. Lots of fucking. Got to go.” He hung up, hoping that maybe Jennifer would wait a good week before trying to call him again. His mind was currently replaying that one awkward memory from after the bashing over in his head, when Jennifer had changed her mind and decided that Justin should come back to live at the loft,

 “Take my son.”

“You want me to fuck him?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Ugch. Brian shivered in his desk chair. He’d acted cavalier about it back then, provoking the woman without recourse. And he was still audacious enough to go around saying “Justin” and  “Fuck” in the same sentence to her, but the truth was that Brian would rather all that be kept private probably about as much as she did. Just because Jennifer Taylor knew that her son took it up the ass from him, didn’t mean she ever needed to see their drawer of sex toys. Not like that mattered much now anyways, the taxed executive thought to himself. It was going to take a lot more than sexual healing this time. That much had become abundantly clear since the previous Saturday night. Just exactly what the trick to helping Justin regain his memory was though, he hadn’t a clue.

---

It was nearly seven pm when Justin walked up to the office of his old counselor. He hadn’t known if Aiden would be there because he hadn’t called. Luckily though, the other vampire could be seen sitting at the room’s desk as Justin lingered in the doorway. He was reading something and making notes on a paper. Justin regarded the handsome man with an unexpected air of yearning. Yearning to hang out with him again. To talk about all that was going on. Justin had depended on Aiden for so much in those first few weeks, and the other vampire really had helped him overcome one of the worst times of his life. Hell, he’d saved his life. No matter how they’d ended up disagreeing over lifestyle choices, Justin had missed their talks. He hadn’t expected that. Aiden?” he said, making his presence known.

Brown eyes looked up in surprise. “Justin,” he uttered. Whatever he’d been working on was laid down to the desk’s surface, abandoned. Aiden tried to school his expression, but inside he felt very taken aback. Most patients who went AWOL from the home never returned. But there the youngest vampire was, standing just inside the doorway. Aiden shifted his papers tidily to the side of the desk. “This is unexpected. Why are you here?”

The blonde shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know. I wanted to talk I guess. Can we still have an hour together, like before?”

“Yes. I’d be glad to do sessions again if you’d like.” Aiden frowned apologetically, “But It’ll have to be just twenty minutes for now. I have to see other residents tonight. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah. Neither did I really.” Justin walked into the room, sitting down in a chair. “But some things have happened since I left, and I missed coming up to this office to talk. It always helped before. I’m sorry I just took off like I did. I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you mind if I ask where you went?”

A small smile graced the blonde’s lips. “Back to my old studio. It’s not great, but we’ve made some improvements. The ‘we’ in his statement didn’t go unnoticed by the other man.

Aiden considered his next words carefully. He hadn’t expected to get the chance to talk with Justin again, having chalked him up as a lost cause. But now that the young man was back and apparently seeking advice, Aiden wanted to be sure he gave the right kind. Slowly, he said, “I think you living on your own again is a wonderful goal. A lot of new vampires have trouble moving out, and you did it fairly quickly. I think that speaks volumes for your own ability to adapt.”

“Thanks.”

“I think leaving here is generally a good thing for you,” Aiden admitted, adding, “but not with Evan. I don’t think he can lead you anyplace good.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about him.” Justin waved off the other man’s disapproval. He’d known the older vampire would say something about his new roommate, but there were more important matters to discuss. “Look: I’ve seen some people I know from before,” he volunteered, adding, “I’ve spent some time with Brian again.”

From the desk, a knowing shine came to Aiden’s eyes. He remembered how keen Brian had been on finding his ex-boyfriend, when they’d last talked at the hospital. Trying to sound nonchalant, Aiden asked, “Oh? And what prompted that?”

“He just showed up at my place one day and demanded that I go with him to do all this psychotherapy stuff with him.” Glancing sharply to the therapist, Justin gandered, “Hey, you didn’t get in contact with him, did you?” It would have made sense, given the sorts of facts Brian had been spouting at him during their tour of Liberty Avenue.

But Aiden denied it straight away, “Of course not. Mr. Kinney and I haven’t been in contact since you left the hospital.”

“Well, however he got those crazy ideas…” Justin sighed, and stared at the weave of the carpet as he admitted, “I think I want to try and get back with him. I want to figure out how to regain my memories.”

“Emotional memories you mean?” Aiden clarified.

“Yeah. I’ve already had some things come back. I can remember being…” Justin blushed, embarrassed to admit, “obsessed with Brian when we met. And I can feel this sense of comfort, and happiness now—that came about from a 'trigger,' as Brian called it.”

“He was able to prompt you to recover something?” Aiden asked, somewhat impressed. Brian Kinney hadn’t exactly struck him as the introspective type.

“No. I did that one on my own.” Justin omitted the details of exactly how he’d triggered himself back into lukewarm feelings for Brian. He wasn’t exactly sure the psychologist would approve of his jumping back into the stream where he’d almost died. Instead he complained, “I still don’t love him though. I know he feels like more of a stranger now than he used to. A lot of my memories still feel very robotic.” Robotic had been the term he’d always used in therapy to describe to Aiden how void his memories felt, how void he felt. Forcing himself to meet the attentive gaze of his mentor, the young vampire admitted, “I want to fall back in love with him.”

“Well, that’s the first step; admitting what you want.” Aiden couldn’t say he was displeased to hear this from his youngest patient. From what he could tell, Justin was an uncertain new vampire looking for meaning, purpose, definition; all that good cliché stuff. He was, in a sense, an adolescent all over again. And as such Justin was obviously vulnerable and searching for meaningful experiences. His new roommate would certainly provide “experiences” if allowed. The thought had the corners of Aiden’s mouth pulling down.

If anything in the human world was going to pull Justin away from Evan and his influence, it was going to be Brian Kinney. He may not have liked the man personally, but Aiden knew when to admit that an asshole had a purpose. Justin Taylor’s ex-boyfriend was the best thing for him at this point, and he’d be sure to let the young blonde know that he thought so. “I think you can achieve your goal,” Aiden said, voice over-inflated with confidence that he perhaps didn’t quite feel. “Have you done the… recovery techniques that you spoke of, with Brian more than once?”

The blonde frowned a little. “No not really.”

“Well I’d advise you to do it more. With him or with other people. But if Brian was who you were closest to, then he might be the best person to assist you with that.”

“Yeah, I haven’t really seen much of anyone else. In fact seeing everyone else feels pretty unnerving right now.”

“Why?”

Justin shrugged, “They don’t know me anymore. They’ll expect me to be the same as I was. To be their ‘Sunshine.’”

“A lot of new vampires have trouble relating to their loved ones. It’s par for the course. You just have to give them time to accept the new you, and give yourself time too. ”

“Sometimes I feel like it would just be better for everyone if I stayed away. Humans don’t really like vampires anyways.”

Aiden leant forward in his chair, inquiring, “Is that you talking, or Evan?”

The blonde looked upwards defensively. “I have my own opinions you know,” he snapped.

“Okay, so explain to me how you wanting to ‘fall back in love with Brian’ coincides with humans and vampires being incompatible.”

“I never said incompatible,” Justin excused. “It’s just that they have this dislike of us, and if it’s not dislike then it’s distrust or wariness. Everybody thinks we’re scary and weird, dangerous and immoral.” The blonde snorted, “Maybe they’re right.”

“No,” Aiden protested quietly, sad to hear that Justin had already grasped the prejudiced view that society held towards people with their condition. “They’re not right.”

“But we drink blood from people,” Justin countered hurriedly. “I mean I know you don’t, but a lot of us do. We go around tricking on junkies for their blood, we have these massive violent impulses. Vampires are killing people all the time!”

“Humans are killing people all the time too,” Aiden pointed out firmly. “We just make easier scapegoats.”

Justin slumped back in his chair, unconvinced. “Yeah well, it’s like we’re another class of people. And sometimes it just seems easier to let it be that way.”

“I’m sure Brian wouldn’t be thrilled to hear you talking like this,” Aiden suggested, knowing full well that Justin cared about what the human man thought.

Justin only scoffed. Glancing peevishly out the window, he said, “If Brian could have his way, the world would be segregated between gays and straight people. I’m just extending the concept.”

Steepling his fingers, Aiden tried to maintain his most helpful and understanding tone as he stated, “Well it seems that you’ve been worrying a lot about being different from those you once loved.”

“You could say that.”

“I’m not dismissing your concerns, Justin. I’m just trying to help put them in perspective. If you’re really concerned about the realities of how well you do or do not fit in with human life now, maybe the first person you should discuss it with is Brian. He’ll need to know what you’re really like if the two of you are going to get anywhere, and it’s only fair for you to tell him.”

Justin raised his brows and twisted his lips in reluctant consideration. “Yeah, maybe,” he hedged. “I’m not so sure what his knowledge base about vampires is though.” Whatever Wikipedia has to say on the subject, he thought disparagingly. And—what he wouldn’t mention to Aiden—he also wondered what Evan would have to say about all of this. He’d find out the answer to both questions, soon enough.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

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