Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

 

Chapter two: Justin

 

 

6.

 

Justin was a happy child. Mostly. When the name ‘Brian' appeared on his wrist, his mother looked disturbed, but only for a moment. Then she smiled at him and proceeded to tell him how happy he was going to be, how his Brian would make all his dreams come true.

Justin's father wasn't so understanding. He left their family for a while, despite ‘Jennifer' glowing on his skin sadly. After eight months he came back, but his relationship with Justin was never the same again.

It hurt. It hurt, but Justin didn't let himself care. He lived in the world of paints and colors, in the world where he already had his mother's love and Daphne's support and Brian, his perfect, faceless Brian who he would meet one day. They would live in a big house and have pets and spend romantic evenings together. Justin had everything planned already. When he told Daphne, she giggled, and then she helped him to plan other details, like what Justin would cook for dinners and where Brian would put his clothes when he returned after work.

He never felt happier.

 

13.     

 

Justin painted three hundred and sixty four versions of Brian. He imagined him blond and red-haired, he imagined him dark and bold, and he fell in love with every option.

Mostly he liked to dream about Brian's character. He imagined his kind eyes, gentle hands, loving smile. He imagined words of trust and affection and love, and when his father threw some cutting remark, or the bullies at school laughed at him for having a boy's name on his wrist, Justin just shrugged it off.

He knew what he wanted. And he knew he would get it one day.   

 

 

17.

 

When Justin met Brian, he recognized him instantly. He didn't need to know his name, or to see his wrist - everything was obvious. Brian was the most beautiful man in the world, and the pull between them was so strong that Justin barely managed to keep standing.

He hoped for a smile and for a kiss. Instead he got an icy glare and the door of the car slamming shut.

His Brian left him before they even talked.

That night was the first in many years when Justin closed himself in his bedroom and cried.

 

 

***

 

 

"You don't even know it was him," Daphne was saying. "Just some guy you felt attracted to, it doesn't mean he's the one for you, Justin."

"I don't care," Justin kept staring at the portraits he'd painted, portraits that couldn't come close to the real thing. "I don't even care if his name is really Brian, or what is written on his wrist. I just know that he's mine."

"Well, that's not creepy at all," Daphne rolled her eyes. Justin smiled at her fondly.

So his soulmate wasn't particularly interested in meeting him. It wasn't good, but it also wasn't the end of the world.

Justin just had to persuade him to give them a chance.

 

 

***

 

He went back to the streetlight and kept returning for several evenings until he finally saw Brian again. The man was just as beautiful as he'd seemed five days ago, and Justin watched him transfixed, with his mouth agape. When Brian and his friends disappeared in a bar, Justin followed them, excited and scared at the same time.

He found them near one of the pool tables. His courage was alternatively overwhelming and deserting him, so Justin spent almost half an hour just observing the company. He learned the names of Brian's friends - Ted, Emmett, Michael, but no one actually said ‘Brian', and Justin started to get anxious. He relaxed only after looking at his man again, because yes, he had to be Brian. Every cell in Justin's body kept screaming it.

Brian was the centre of everyone's attention. He played like a professional, sent brief smiles to his hopeful suitors and mostly remained silent, listening to his friends' chattering.

The short black-haired man named Michael was obviously infatuated. He looked at Brian like he'd hung the moon, and while Justin could understand him, he also didn't like it. How could anyone lust after someone else's soulmate? Could it be that Michael didn't know what was written on his friend's wrist?

"Brian, stop that," Emmett finally complained, and all at once Justin's heart stopped.

Brian.

Brian.

His mind was witnessing wave after wave of emotion. As it crashed down, he closed his eyes briefly, feeling everything in him explode first in shock, then in pure elation.

He was right. He was right, this man was his Brian, and he was the right Brian, not like others Justin had known.

It wasn't a mistake. It was destiny.

When the men moved to the bar to order drinks, Justin finally felt a new rush of determination. He approached, wavering only slightly, and when Brian's eyes stopped at him, he smiled.

"Hi," he said softly. "I was wondering if you would like to..." Talk? Drink? Dance? While Justin was trying to decide, Brian grimaced in distaste and started to turn away from him. Without thinking Justin grabbed his shoulder, and Brian shuddered as if his touch was electric. He turned back to him, and even though his eyes were wide and amazed and a little vulnerable, his voice was cold.

"I'm not interested. Do I have to spell it out to you?"

Justin's face fell and he bit his lip, unsure.

"Let's leave, Brian," Michael said haughtily. "It's getting too crowded here."

Brian wrapped his hand around Michael's shoulders and left, not sparing Justin a glance.

Well.

It hurt even worse this time.

 

 

***

 

Justin was everywhere. He followed Brian to the bar and to Babylon, never doing anything other than watching. He knew Brian noticed - everyone noticed. He was sort of a joke to them, but being laughed at didn't bother Justin as much as Brian's constant attempts to ignore him.

He almost gave up hope when he heard Brian and Michael talking one day.

"Just fuck him already!" Michael was hissing. "Fuck him and get it over with, maybe he'll leave you alone then!"

"Shut up," Brian said.

"You fuck anyone, everyone! Why won't you fuck him, what's so special about him? Just tell him to never say his name to you and that'll be it!"

"Shut up," Brian repeated.

"I don't understand!" Michael nearly yelled in frustration. "I don't understand why it matters! Even if you learn the names of some of your tricks, so what? We both know what your wrist says, we both know we'll end up together at some point! Aren't you tired of lying, of pretending?"

Brian laughed then. He laughed and laughed, and he continued laughing even as Michael stormed from Babylon, furious.

Justin remembered how to breathe.

He learned more than he'd dared hope for.

Brian fucked everyone but him. Apparently it somehow made him special since Michael was so infuriated.

Michael didn't know for sure what Brian's wrist said. He thought his name was there and that Brian just pretended because he didn't want a relationship.

Why did Brian hate the idea of soulmates so much?

 

 

***

 

 

They never exchanged words, but Justin knew Brian was becoming more and more aware of him, of his presence. Now all Justin had to do was enter Babylon and Brian's eyes were immediately on him, in that exact second, watching him silently. The connection between them was growing, the pull was getting practically unbearable, and it seemed Brian almost stopped fighting it. He now allowed himself to watch Justin in return, often declining tricks' offers in favor of continuing to exchange glances with him.    

Justin thought he could fly in moments like that.

One day he got so bored standing motionlessly that he accepted some guy's offer to dance. He wasn't going to let him do anything apart innocent touching, but then he saw how Brian was looking at him. His jaw was clenched tightly, his darkened eyes locked on Justin and his dancing partner, searing holes through them.

Encouraged, flattered, excited, Justin pressed closer to the man and smiled at him flirtingly, stroking his back. The man leaned closer, reaching for his lips, but in the next moment he was pushed away and suddenly Brian was there, almost growling.

"Get away from him," he hissed, his voice low and warning. The trick stumbled away, and Brian stared at Justin. Anger and arousal were swirling inside him, feeding off each other - it was so palpable that Justin felt almost burned by it.

"Hi," he said cheerfully. "Is it the day when you finally decide to talk to me?"

Brian glared at him, remained silent. He also didn't walk away, and Justin's foolish heart sang in delight.

"Dance with me," he whispered. "Please?"

Brian's hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him to his chest, grinding their hips together. Their contact sent a tingle up Justin's spine and he hugged Brian close, drowning in the sea of feelings and sensations.

"No names," Brian whispered into his ear. "No names, got it?"

"Yes," Justin whispered back. Right now he could promise him anything in the world. "Yes. Okay."

They danced, and then they kissed, Brian's fingers tugging at his hair, his lips and tongue and teeth forcing Justin to open his mouth wider, making him breathe faster and faster, until he felt dizzy. 

Brian took him to his loft that night, and their first time was gentle and careful, more making love than fucking. Justin's skin was tingly from kisses, from Brian touching him again and again like he couldn't get enough, like he wanted to devour him, to absorb him.

Being told to fuck off in the morning was surprisingly unexpected, although why, Justin had no idea. He already knew Brian was wary of any relationship. Did he really believe sex would change that?

He did cry, a little. Mostly it just made him feel even more determined to win Brian over with time.

 

 

***

 

Brian couldn't resist him. He took him to the loft almost every night, fucking him with abandon, leaving his marks everywhere, then throwing him out.

They never talked about names. Brian never looked at his wrist.

Justin wasn't sure if he was happier or sadder than before their meeting.

 

 

***

 

  Michael hated him. He refused to call him ‘Sunshine' like Emmett, or even ‘the blond' like Ted. He chose Brian's impersonal ‘you' when addressing him, and it was both amusing and irritating.

"Stop wasting his time!" Michael spat.

"You are nothing to him," he taunted.

"He has another soulmate, and it's not you!" he boasted. Justin listened, and nodded, and then ignored him. He felt sorry for Michael. Brian's fear of soulmates had broken him; Brian's inability to confess what was really written on his wrist strung Michael along all these years, making him hope for something that was never going to happen.

How many opportunities had Michael missed? How many times could he have met his true soulmate, but hadn't, because his attention belonged solely to Brian?     

 

18.

 

A year later Michael still hated him. Brian still refused to ask for his name, but he still fucked him and talked to him and took him to fancy restaurants.

He also still fucked everyone who walked by him, not caring if Justin saw it, smirking cruelly whenever Justin tried to protest.

Justin started to wonder if those conversations and dinners were enough.

 

 

***

 

 

Brian started to become obsessed with Justin's wrist. He never tried to take away his wristlet, but when they fucked he caressed it and squeezed it and stared at it, sometimes greedily, sometimes longingly. There were times when Justin woke up because Brian was stroking the skin under his wristlet gently, reverently, soaking in the letters he never looked at.

He was especially cruel after such times, and Justin's heart kept breaking.

 

 

***

 

Justin was still eighteen when he realized he'd made Brian up. Loving a real man with all his insecurities and flaws was proving to be much more difficult than loving a perfect faceless image.

For the first time Justin thought that Brian could be right. Brian kept insisting that soulmates were bullshit, and maybe they were. Finding your soulmate didn't mean instant problemless existence and happily ever after. A lot of couples broke up despite being soulmates, some hated or even killed one another, some preferred the company of other people.

Justin's perfect Brian never existed, and his strength for dealing with the real one, with Brian who said and did cruel things and then kissed him like he was the most important person in the world, was rapidly diminishing.

He wasn't strong enough for this.

He wasn't strong enough for Brian.

Maybe Brian should have found another soulmate.

 

 

19.

 

Justin was nineteen when he left Brian for someone else. He came to the loft, grabbed several things that he kept there and told Brian that whatever it was they had, it was over.

Brian didn't say a word. He just stood there, looking lost and devastated. Justin had never seen this look on him. It was doing strange things to his heart, so he turned and left, trying to forget, just forget.

Trying not to look back. 

 

 

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