NO EXCUSES, NO APOLOGIES, NO REGRETS
Part 19 - Stay The Night

BRIAN

When I get home from the office, I'm in a foul mood. Vance has the "hots" for a new client and I get to win them over. Not on my own though, oh no. I get to have help. None other than my arch nemesis himself, Gabriel. He's been on his best behaviour lately, trying to be my <<friend>>. The thought has me wanting to gag. He and I will be friends when hell freezes over.

The loft is quiet...too quiet. Unbuttoning my jacket and placing it, along with my briefcase, on the counter, I walk into the bedroom.

My gaze immediately falls on the empty drawer... and the empty hangers. What the fuck? And then I remember. He's staying with Jennifer. Great. Just fucking great. Just what I need right now. I wonder how long this will last. I'm getting too old for this shit.

I've been feeling like shit all day, trying to figure out how to fix things... IF I even want to anymore. And now Justin's gone and decided it for us.

He did the right thing. I don't blame him for running away as fast as he possibly could. I'm a monster. I'm my father. But he has to come back. There are no two ways about it.

But for now, at least my life can go back to normal. No responsibility to another person. No fucking curfew. No boyfriend.

All by myself again. Just the way I've always wanted it.

Using the spare key Mikey's given me, I walk into his apartment. Since I punched him, things have slowly been getting better. Emmett's not there but the door to Mikey's room is open. He and Ben are on the bed, pants being unbuttoned so they can fuck. Before it gets too far and I get a free show, one that I can definitely do without, I call out from the doorway loudly, "Knock, knock."

Ben falls on the other side of Mikey and starts pulling up his pants. He's sighing in annoyance. Calm down Professor. I've seen what you've got already. Remember?

"Brian!" Mikey shouts as he struggles to get his jeans up. "How'd you get in?"

I shake the key in front of his face.

"That's for emergencies only!" he snaps, obviously pissed.

"This is a fucking emergency," I respond, falling on the bed. With hopeful eyes, I add, "I need someone to come to Babylon with me tonight."

Ben sits up, jeans back on. "Where's Justin?"

"Yeah," Mikey repeats. "Where is the boy wonder? He hasn't returned any of my calls. You want us to work on Rage but he never has the time!"

His comment surprises me. Ever since he quit the diner, Justin has loads of spare time. He studies a lot more but other than that...

"Why can't he go with you?" Mikey asks again.

I sit back up. "My fucking life does not revolve around Justin. If I want to go to Babylon with my best friend..." I pause and leave the statement unfinished. "So, are you coming or not?"

I don't wait for his response; walk outside. I hear him and Ben speaking in hushed tones before he joins me, dressed in a tight tee and jeans.

In the car, he tells me how many Rage comics he's sold for the month and that a customer asked about Issue II. I try to listen but my thoughts are elsewhere. I'm trying to figure out how much of my stash I have left and how much cash I have on me. I need to make a pit stop.

"Brian, are you listening to me?"

Huh? Oh fuck.

"What?" I ask.

His eyes narrow suspiciously. "Are you alright?"

"Don't I look alright?" I ask instead of answering his question. I shoot him a dirty grin.

He laughs. "You always look good."

Yeah. I sure do.

"But what I meant was, is everything alright with the boy wonder?"

I push my tongue against my cheek. "Exactly how does that concern you again?"

"You are my best friend, you know."

I shrug. "He's at his mother's."

I'm not going to lie to Mikey. Not after what happened between us. We never lie to each other; that's the one rule we have.

"What happened?" he immediately wants to know.

I turn into the street for Babylon. "I fucked up."

Mikey huffs a little. "It's not your fault." When he sees my warning look, he takes another approach. "What I mean is, I'm sure it wasn't anything that can't be fixed."

I get out of the jeep and look around for my supplier.

"Will you be ok, Brian?"

I nod. "Aren't I always?"

Bingo. I found my man. Now to get me some goodies for later. And maybe a stash to last me the week.

Once inside, I pump some pills into my system and get myself a beer. Babylon is the one place that can always make me forget. It may be temporary, but it's the best bet I've got.

After a couple hours, Mikey tugs on my arm and says he wants to go home; Ben's waiting for him. Well, fuck him. It's me, Brian. I come first. All the time, remember?

Slipping my arms around his neck, I pull him close and feed him the lines I know will make him stay.

He grins up at me and accepts the popper gladly. Soon, we're dancing and enjoying ourselves. Together. Like the good old days.

My head is pounding when I get home. Why do I do these things to myself? I groan. The machine is blinking, so after I open a bottle of Evian, I press 'play.'

"Brian, it's me." Justin. "I uh... I'm at Mom's, bored to death. Babysitting Molly and her friends. They're supposedly working on a science project but all I'm hearing about is who's crushing who." There's a pause. "Um... I stopped by today to get some stuff but you weren't there... I..." He mumbles something incoherent then adds, "I guess you're not there now too. I better go. I'm hearing way too much giggling. I... uh... I'm sorry ok? I really miss you."

I stare at the phone for a little while before walking into the bathroom for a piss. In the bedroom, I finish the bottle of water, undress and get into bed. As I light up a joint, I dial Justin's mobile.

He answers after five rings.

"Did I wake you?" I ask before I take a pull.

"It's ok," he mutters sleepily. I hear him yawn. "What time is it?"

Looking at the bedside clock, I say, "Just after 3."

"You missed your curfew?"

"So spank me?" I grumble back after taking another pull.

He laughs. "Had fun?"

I shrug. "It's been better."

"Well, you probably had more fun than me," he starts to complain. "Mom left me with a bunch of teenage girls!"

"And you didn't fit right in?"

He snorts and ignores my comment. "And I think one of them has a crush on me. Ugh."

I snicker.

"I swear!" he insists. "They're weird." I hear him shudder dramatically and can't help rolling my eyes.

"Stop being a princess," I tell him.

"So where'd you go?" he asks out of nowhere.

"None of your business."

"Brian!"

I try to blow smoke rings. "It's not worth talking about. I didn't even get laid."

"I bet," he grumbles.

I exhale forcefully, blowing the smoke from overhead making it dissipate into thin air. "So when are you coming home?"

There's a pause and then, "I... I don't know."

He doesn't know? That pisses me off slightly. "If you're not having fun at mommy's and I'm not having much fun without you, then..." The solution seems obvious to me.

But the twat decides to ignore that and asks instead, "So you miss me?"

I snort. "Why must you be such a fucking girl?"

"It's just a question, Brian," he defends.

I sigh, exasperated. "It's not the same without you."

I know the second the corners of his mouth lift to form a smile. "Was that so hard?"

"Ask me to kill myself next time," I sarcastically toss back.

My joint is down to its end, so I flick it into an ashtray at the side of the bed. I'm tempted to light up another but I decide not to. I've had enough for the night.

Taking a deep breath, I decide now is as best a time as any to say, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," he replies softly.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really. It just burned a little when I put some peroxide on it to clean it up. It'll be gone in a few days."

I can't believe I'm responsible for a scar on his beautiful body. It was never my intention. I'd much prefer to hurt myself than to let anything happen to him. That's how much I...

"Brian?"

"What?" I snap, upset at myself for thinking such ludicrously hetero thoughts.

"We need to talk."

I rub the sting out of my eyes; I'm so tired.

"So talk," I demand.

"No... I'll come over tomorrow," he says. "After classl."

My eyes narrow suspiciously. "What's this **talk** about?"

"Us."

Oh, God. Not another one of these "US" discussions. They're fucking annoying and damn tedious. I always have to strain to pay attention and he ends up winning all of them... i.e. getting his way all the time.

I sigh. "Great. I'd better conserve my strength and get some sleep."

He laughs. "Later."

"Later."

When I get home from work, Justin is already there, watching the Powerpuff Girls and eating an apple. I bought us sesame chicken and rice noodles take-out for dinner; I'm starving and Justin is a bottomless pit.

I get out of my work clothes and change into a pair of jeans and a wife-beater before joining him on the sofa; take-out boxes in my hand. I place the boxes on the table and lean over to kiss his fruit flavoured lips, sucking the sweet, sticky juice off them. He moans and finds himself straddling me as I sit on the sofa, his hands slipping around my neck.

We stay like that for a few minutes, just kissing, until finally, I pull away. His eyes are still closed dreamily, which makes me want to laugh, but I contain it. Instead, I steal his apple and take a bite.

"That was unfair, Brian," he complains when he's come to his senses again.

I cock a brow.

"How the fuck are we supposed to talk after that?" he asks as he licks his lips.

I grin. "We don't have to talk," I suggest, leaning in for another kiss.

He draws his head back and narrows his eyes warningly. "Nice try."

I shrug. Too bad it didn't work. Finishing off the apple, I toss the remains on the table and give him my serious face. "I'm ready. Talk."

"You make it sound like a chore, Brian."

"It is that," I mutter grouchily. I fucking hate these one-on-one <<talks>>.

He smiles and leans down to brush his lips against mine one last time before shifting, so he's sitting beside me and not on top of me anymore.

For a good five minutes, he just sits there, saying nothing. I can tell his mind is working overtime because every so often, his forehead scrunches together.

"Are we having this discussion today or what?" I ask after another five minutes pass with nothing. I open the box of noodles and offer him some. He shakes his head and I'm baffled. Justin not hungry? This is not a good sign. I close the box and put it back on the table.

He sighs, takes a deep breath and says, "I'm thinking of moving out."

He's watching me with intensely worried blue eyes, waiting for my reaction.

I'm not sure what to say really. I mean, I don't blame the kid. I fucked up and he's making me pay. But I know him. All I have to do is toss a few <<nice>> words his way and he'll cave. As much as I hate saying anything remotely <<sweet>>... because it's fucking hard... I don't mind being that way with Justin. Once in a while... like every six months or so.

Before I get a chance to say anything, he's excitedly saying, "Brian, think about it. It's a really, really good idea. You'll get your loft back and I'll... I won't be in your hair. I'll have my own space too."

My eyes narrow suspiciously. Why the fuck do you need your own space?

"Justin," I start but he interrupts.

"Brian, wait." He holds up a hand. "I've really thought this through."

"Which means what exactly?" I snap. "That I don't get a fucking say?"

He squirms in his seat, lowering his gaze to his hands, which he's wringing nervously. I feel bad for making him uncomfortable and lift his chin. It's then I notice the scar just below his right eye. It's tiny, but the surrounding area is a brighter shade of pink, drawing attention to it. Fuck. Did I really do that? I lost it... I could have... I never meant for... Excuses. When have I started making excuses for my behaviour?

The repercussions of my actions disturb me and I find myself wanting to tell him to go... leave me. Don't stay with somebody who would do this to you. But I can't let go of him... even if it is the right thing to do.

When his blue eyes meet mine, I tell him softly, "I'm listening."

He gives me a wobbly smile. Taking a deep breath, he says, "My friend Connor has a spare room. It's not far from PIFA; I can walk to school."

I rub a finger against my jaw. "Who the fuck's Connor?"

He sighs. "I told you about him, Brian. He's in a few of my classes."

"The comic geek?"

"Yeah."

I snort. "Ok." This Connor person seems innocent enough. "Have you seen the place?"

"I saw it today," he admits. "It's not bad. My room has enough space for a desk to study and do my art. That's all I need anyway."

I bite on my tongue to keep from reminding him he has all of those necessities here. "What about rent?"

He grins widely. "That's the best part! It's free!"

At my surprised look, he says, "Connor's dad owns the place. He rents it out to students mainly. But, Connor's got an extra room and..."

Looks like he's got it all figured out. I tell him as much.

"I just... I think it's a good idea, that's all."

I force a smile. "I admit, it sounds good." I pause to lock my gaze onto his. "I just don't understand."

He sighs. "I know," he says with a nod. "We just moved back in together. But, I think it was too soon, Brian."

My brows furrow together.

Taking a deep breath, he firmly says, "You call me a lost boy sometimes. Well, ever since I came to Liberty Avenue, I've felt that way. I fought my way into your life, moved in with you, stole your friends as my own, moved in with Debbie and then... basically just depended on you for everything!" He takes my hand in his. "Then I ran off with Ethan, hooked up with Felix... MOVED in with Felix and now... you again. Do you see a trend here Brian?"

"If you'd kept your ass in one place," I mock. "You wouldn't get into half the shit you do!"

He grins and gently squeezes my palm. "Do you see?" he pleads for me to understand.

And I do.

"You want to finally be on your own?" I say quietly. "You want to be your own man?"

He leans close to me so that our shoulders press against the other. "I'm ready, Brian," he whispers. "I'm not a little boy anymore."

"I never thought of you as a boy, Justin," I protest, my eyes finding his.

"You may not know it, but you did. You always want to protect me. And I... love you for that. I just think... for us to work, I need to..."

To leave me... I don't say it, but I'm feeling it.

"Ok," I say.

He lets out a relieved sigh.

"But first," I demand. "Promise me this had nothing to do with what happened last night."

He looks surprised.

"Promise me," I repeat after he doesn't respond.

"Brian..."

"Justin."

He swallows. "It has to do with many things, not just last night. Or my birthday."

"So, you admit that I'm responsible for pushing you away?" I move away from him and get off the sofa.

He looks up at me with bright blue eyes. "Are you listening to me at all?" he asks angrily. "This is not about YOU."

"If I didn't... do what I did, would you still be packing your fucking bags?"

He races a hand through his long blonde hair. "Honestly? No, I wouldn't be moving out." When he sees my pained expression, which I thought I was doing a good job of hiding, he immediately adds, "But things happen for a reason, Brian!"

I snort and make my way to the drinks tray. I need a fucking JB.

He follows me, placing a palm on top of mine. "Look at me," he says. When I comply, he pulls my face down to his. "If you ask me to stay, I'll stay."

I let out a sigh of relief. I don't want him to go anywhere. I need him... he'll never know how much.

"Stay," I murmur, drawing in his lips for a kiss.

It's much longer than intended, but when I pull away, I see the disappointment in his eyes.

Hugging him to me, I decide to not be selfish. "Stay the night," I tell him with a sincere smile. "I'll help you move everything over this weekend."

05/03/03

Banner courtesy Andy-Piglet

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