JUSTIN:
I finish packing and Emmett and I make our way downstairs. We join Vic, mom, and Debbie at the table and I do my best to ignore the looks they’re all giving me. I know what they want to know. The only thing they’ve wanted to know since Brian and I walked down those stairs together two weeks ago. When and how we got back together.
The thing is, I don’t know. I mean, of course I know what happened. Obviously I know what happened. I was there. But it wasn’t so cut and dry. It didn’t JUST happen. Boom and we’re together. No. It was long and painful. Man, was it painful. But after all the shit we’ve put each other through before, we needed to take that time. To make sure that it was the right thing for both of us.
I guess a part of me always knew that we’d be together again. Or maybe I just knew that no matter how much I tried, I’d never stop loving Brian, that he’s the only person I could be truly happy with. In any case, I tried not to think about it at the time. I tried not to think about Brian at all. I busied myself with school, work, and Rage. And guys, of course. Lots and lots of guys. What can I say? I was determined.
Everything was going relatively well. I could actually honestly say that I was happy then. Or at least, content. It didn’t bother me that my classes lasted longer than my “relationships”. I had friends. I had money. I got laid. What more could a guy want?
I didn’t think about the prom. I never thought about the prom. I wouldn’t let myself. I learned how to do that from Brian. And we both got very good at it. But then that night…it just hit me like a ton of bricks. And I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. So, I asked Scott, who I was dating at the time, to drop me off at Brian’s. I knew he’d probably be out fucking or worse: throw me out and laugh at me for coming to him. But it didn’t matter. I just NEEDED to see him. Because he was the only other person who had an inkling of what I was feeling. And he did. I know it was hard for him to open up to me like that, especially about that night. But he did it. For me. I guess, looking back on it now, I’d say that it was the beginning of us getting back together. But then again, maybe not.
Because after that things went back to normal. Our normal, which translated into English means ‘pretending not to give a shit’. Like I said, we both are very good at hiding what we feel, what we want. Anyway, things had gone back to the way they were before and I think it was three of four weeks later when one night out of the blue Brian showed up at Deb’s a complete mess. He was drunk and high, completely fucked out of his mind. But that wasn’t the worst thing. I’ve seen him at his worst a bunch of times. But nothing prepared me for that. Brian was crying.
I didn’t know what happened and at that particular moment I couldn’t have cared less. All I cared about was getting Brian upstairs in bed and making sure he was ok. Thankfully, Vic and Deb were out of town all weekend, so Brian didn’t have to worry about a million questions he was bound to have gotten from them.
It took us a while to get up the stairs and into my room, since I had to pretty much carry him. And just because Brian’s skinny doesn’t mean he’s not heavy, let me tell you that. Finally, I got him into my bed and got him undressed. Which of course to him meant only one thing. He reached out and grabbed my dick like he owned it and for a second there he almost got his way. But thankfully my other head regained control of my limbs. This was too easy. A drunken fuck. A comforting fuck. That’s what he’d say the morning after. Blame it on not knowing what he was doing. And I’d let him. I knew that much. Because it would have been easier to hide behind the booze and drugs rather than admitting that we wanted to be together. And that’s why I couldn’t do that. A fuck wouldn’t have solved Brian’s problems that brought him to my doorstep, and it definitely wouldn’t have solved anything between us. So, instead of doing something we both wanted, I got him under the covers and willed my dick to go to sleep just like Brian did the moment his head hit he pillow.
As predicted, he did not remember a thing when he woke up. He looked as if he was stuck in some episode of Twilight Zone, waking up in my bed, my arms around him. I almost laughed at him. But then I remembered just how upset he was the night before and so did he. He looked away uncomfortably, neither of us knowing what to say. I don’t think I had ever seen him this vulnerable before. Not even the first time I saw him after I got out of the hospital. I know he was a mess, but he did a really good job acting like everything was fine. But we both knew that it would be a moot point to put on our usual act that morning, as we both stared at each other from opposite sides of my bed.
“Why don’t you just ask me and get this over with?” he finally said.
We both knew what he was talking about. And I wanted to. Of course I wanted to know. But I had no right to ask that question.
“Don’t get me wrong. Of course I want to know why out of the blue you show up at my door, so upset. But…I’m not going to ask.” He looked at me, surprised, but didn’t say anything, so I continued, “If you want to tell me, you’ll tell me. And if you don’t, that’s ok too. I just want to know that you’re alright, that’s all.”
I knew he didn’t believe me. We both knew I was dying to know what was wrong. But it wasn’t my place to ask those questions. Even if he did show up at MY doorstep, wanting to be with ME, needing MY arms around him. I know I’m a horrible person for thinking this at the time when I should have been focusing on him, but those thoughts echoed through my mind. He always went to Michael when he was upset. Always. Even when we were together. If something was wrong, he’d shut down and go tricking or go talk to Michael. I understood, or tried to at least, because they’ve known each other for a very long time. If Michael gave him comfort and made him feel better, than I would just have to suck it up and live with it, right? But it wasn’t Michael who he went to this time. It was ME.
We looked at each other for what seemed like eternity. Then I finally stood up, pulling my pants on. There was no point in sitting in silence like that. I knew that none of it meant anything to him. He’d get up, get dressed, and leave, not giving it a second though, and things will once again go back to “normal”.
Except, he didn’t. He kept staring at me instead.
“I saw my mother yesterday,” he said out of the blue.
I turned around, surprised that he actually told me. But the incredible high of having Brian finally open up to me quickly evaporated, leaving only concern for him. He didn’t have to explain anymore. I could figure the rest of it out on my own. His mother isn’t the most loving and understanding person in the world. I sighed, not knowing what to say. I knew I had to do something, to somehow make it all better. But I had no clue what or how. Brian was always the one who did that when I felt like the world was crumbling around me. HE always dug me out of a hole, not the other way around.
I sat next to him and looked into his eyes. There was so much pain, I didn’t think I could bear to look at him any longer. But I did. I just stared at him. Hoping that he’d see that he wasn’t hated or cursed, as I’m sure his mother made it her business to tell him. He was loved.
“Remember what you told me after I ran into my father at the Big Q that time?” It happened a long time ago. A few months after I got out of the hospital. We were with Gus, trying to wrestle toys out of his little hands, when we come face to face with my dad. I was a mess for days after that. I can still remember the things he said. The hatred in his eyes. But once again Brian got me through it. And now I had to do it for him. “You live your life the way you want to. And if somebody has a problem with that, well…”
“Fuck ‘em,” he finished for me, and I saw a hint of a smile cross his lips.
“Fuck ‘em,” I repeated it like a mantra. Just like I did back then.
We stared into each other’s eyes, our faces only inches apart. It would have been so easy to kiss him in that moment, but I didn’t. I just sat still, waiting for him to make the move. Or not.
“I should go,” he finally said, quickly standing up.
I nodded. Yep, things were going back to “normal”. “Deb and Vic won’t be home ‘till later tonight, so you don’t have to hurry. You can take a shower if you want.” It felt so good to be with Brian, around Brian, in his life again. I wanted to make it last just a little while longer.
He smiled at me. “No, I should go.”
He got dressed without another word and then I walked him downstairs. He was almost out the door when he turned around and looked at me again. “Thanks,” he said quietly and before I could reply he left.
If you ask Brian what was the turning point in our relationship, what event triggered us getting back together he might say it was the night of the second anniversary of the bashing. Or maybe the night when he showed up at Debbie’s, needing me. Or maybe it was when he spent the night taking care of me when I was sick. Or when I showed up at his place demanding some answers. I’m not sure. He might pick any one of those events. But knowing Brian, he’d probably just say “Who gives a shit?”
“When is Brian picking you up?” Vic asks, bringing me back to the present.
“Uhm, should be around…” I looked down at my watch. Quarter to six. “Right about now.” And as if on cue, Brian walks through the door.
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