Disclaimer – Do I even need to write these things anymore? I swear, it must be the 50th one I’ve done. Do you honestly think that if I owned rights to these characters I’d be wasting my time writing fanfiction about them? *shrugs* Eh, I’d probably still write fanfictions anyway because I’m super cool like that.
Title – Maelstrom
Rating – R
Summary – Brian sees a familiar face at Babylon
Spoilers – This is set in fantasy season 4. Brian was never fired. Stockwell doesn’t exist and never did. Everything in good ol’ Pittsburgh is just as gay as ever.
Maelstrom
As the tall brunette rubbed his half naked body against Brian’s back he suddenly felt himself become strangely disinterested. Turning around he gave the hopeful trick an apathetic glare before he moved away and back to the bar. He’d been in the mood to come and dance and most likely pay a visit to the backroom with Justin tonight but his would be dance partner was busy back on the loft working on a project he’d been procrastinating on.
He was considering wandering into the backroom anyway when he felt a tight grip on his arm. Annoyed, he spun around but smiled as he spied his best friend.
"Now what brings little Mikey back to the - "
Brian stopped speaking when he saw the look on Michael’s face.
"What’s wrong?"
The shorter man only tightened his hold on his friend and motioned for him to look behind him to his left.
After a moment of searching through the dancing bodies in rapture, Brian’s entire body slackened and then became incredibly tight when his eyes found what Michael had directed them to.
Sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee table covered in his early renditions of the main project he was working on, Justin suddenly lost control of his hand and cursed loudly has he placed his left hand on his right wrist in an effort to stop the shaking.
Hobbes.
Fucking Chris Hobbes.
Brian was completely blank. Michael ran his free hand down his other arm and tightly grabbed Brian’s hand as he made way to move.
"Brian, no," he said loudly and in a mildly panicked voice. "You can’t do anything in here."
"The fuck if I can’t. Let me go Michael," he said quickly and loudly and he struggled to release himself. "Get the fuck off me!"
"Brian, no! Stop!" Michael insisted as he used all of his strength to restrain him. "You can’t do anything here, it won’t help any."
"So what? I’m just supposed to let him come here and act as if nothing happened? Act as if he almost didn’t fucking kill Justin?"
Michael had never seen Brian this angry and everyone within 20 feet had turned to stare at the voice which was heard over the beating music.
"Just please come outside with me," he pleaded. "Brian, please. Come on outside."
Brian watched him.
Standing over by the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes and body features danced with nervous energy as he scanned the pulsating crowd.
"Come on . . .please."
After a long moment, Brian allowed his friend’s gentle pleas to win him over.
Once they were outside in the cold night air, Michael released him and watched with worried eyes as Brian ran his hands through his hair over and over and over again as he paced.
"Mikey," he said in a childlike voice.
His eyes were glazed over.
"I don’t know, Brian," He offered. "I was locking up the store today and I saw him walking down the street. I didn’t know what to do, if I should call you or not so I just followed him and . . . I saw him go in Babylon."
Brian had stopped pacing and was standing with his hands on his hips.
"Why the fuck is he here?"
Michael shrugged and took a step towards him.
"I don’t know, Brian," he whispered. "I don’t know."
Brian couldn’t concentrate. Had he come looking for Justin? It seemed like the most probable reason and yet, the least sensible one. Why would he go into a crowded nightclub for a confrontation?
A confrontation.
Fuck.
"I gotta go home," he said defeated.
"You want me to drive you?"
"Nah, you know what?" he said reaching into his pocket. "You take it. I need to walk."
He threw the keys into Michael’s waiting hands.
"Just uh, bring her over sometime tomorrow, all right?"
"Are you sure? Brian, I’ll drive you - "
"It’s fine, Michael. I just . . . I need to walk."
Michael attempted to swallow some of his anxiety.
"OK. Call me if you need anything."
Nodding, Brian turned and began the long walk home.
Justin had just about given up for the night. He didn’t know why it was happening, but he was having an extremely hard time controlling his hand. Just as he was about to throw his pencil across the loft in frustration, the metal door opened and Brian stepped in.
"Hey," he said, suddenly feeling his spirits brighten. "I didn’t expect you back so soon."
Brian just shrugged and muttered an intelligible response under his breath as he moved to the fridge. Noticing that his chest was moving rapidly, Justin stood, groaned a little as the bones in his legs cracked, as he walked over towards him.
Justin watched as he opened a bottle of water and drank the entire thing down in four large swallows.
"Bri? Are you OK?"
Brian threw the plastic container in the trashcan.
"I’m fine," he said. "Just a little buzzed."
"You looked like you’ve been running," Justin said as he reached up to brush a damp strand of hair off of Brian’s forehead. "And you look like you’re freezing."
The sweat on him had been chilled almost immediately by the cold weather and his body was starting to tremble with it as well as the inner apprehension he felt.
"I’m fine," he repeated but in a very, unconvincing voice.
Justin reached out towards him but before his hand to make contact, Brian had wrapped his cold fingers around the back of his neck and pulled their lips together. Justin sighed into him and ran his fingers into his hair. Their kisses soon grew in intensity and Brian pushed Justin back against the fridge causing the inner contents to rattle as they struggled to undress one another. As Brian’s fingers slipped under Justin’s loose sweater, the teenager hissed and pushed himself away.
"Brian, you’re fuckin’ cold," he laughed a little.
In response, the taller man pushed himself up against him harder.
"Well then you’re not doing a very good job, are you?" he whispered into his ear and he pulled the lobe into his mouth.
Justin moaned lightly and slipped his hands under Brian’s shirt so he could run his warm hands up and down his cool back.
"Come take a shower," he muttered against his lips between kisses.
The two some how managed to fumble their way into the bathroom – depositing articles of clothing along the way – until they were both standing under the warm spray of the water. They continued to kiss, feeling the warm water trickle past their lips, and Justin noticed that Brian seemed to be coming off of whatever had been bothering him. He smiled and turned around to face the perspiring glass when Brian nudged him. A quick tear of the wrapper and a moment later Brian’s right hand was on his hip while the other was pressed against the glass next to his head.
In a slow, deliberate movement he pushed inside him and gasped, as Justin did, before the blonde bent his neck back so that his head rested against Brian’s chest. In response the older man sucked at the drops of water at his neck as he pushed in and out and in and out and in and out.
Justin felt his knees start to shake and with every tiny moan Brian purred into his ear he felt himself coming closer and closer to the precipice. Brian let his hand which was against the glass fold so that now his entire forearm rested there, trapping Justin further in his embrace and causing his thrusts to become short and fast. Justin reached behind him and pulled their lips together as he came with a loud groan into Brian’s mouth. The combination of Justin’s exhausted moan and the constriction of his muscles was enough to push Brian’s over as well and he lightly bit into the skin of Justin’s shoulder as his body convulsed.
For a moment the two of them just rested there, feeling their bodies slowly return to normalcy, before they parted and moved back under the direct stream of the water. Brian smiled as Justin’s eyes fluttered closed as he ran the bar of soap over his chest and stomach.
"Did I exhaust you?" he whispered playfully.
Justin opened his eyes and smiled.
"More like I exhausted me," he said. "I can’t believe I waited so long to start working on that damn project. My fuckin’ hand started acted up after the first hour."
Brian’s heart dropped.
He had almost forgotten what he’d seen earlier.
Who he’d seen earlier.
Justin noticed the sudden chance in his eyes.
"Hey," he said touching the side of his face. "Where’d you go?"
Brian bit his bottom lip and rested their foreheads together.
"Nowhere."
Brian lay awake for over an hour as Justin slept soundly beside him. Eyes unfocused, he could only concentrate on the feeling of soft skin under his palm and silky hair under his chin.
It seemed that as soon as his eyes finally shut, the alarm quickly forced him to open them again.
He felt Justin’s body stiffen and nuzzle deeper into both the covers and his chest as he fought unconsciously against the offending noise. Brian smiled despite his fatigue and reached over his dozing partner to silence the alarm.
Justin moaned in appreciation and buried his face in the curve of Brian’s neck.
"I didn’t do that so you could go back to sleep," Brian murmured against his hair. "You’ve been complaining about how you need to go in and work on that new sketch all week now get up."
Justin mumbled something to the effect of it being Saturday and he changed his mind into Brian’s warm skin and slipped his left hand up until it rested against his ear. Brian smiled slightly before he began to disentangle Justin from him.
It was never easy.
"No," Justin said clearly with his eyes still shut as Brian started to move away from him. "Why the fuck are you getting up? You’re not going in today."
"I’m aware," Brian replied. "But you are. Besides, I’ve got this insane project for this new shoe deal that I need to catch up on."
"God, I swear if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were all work and no play."
Brian laughed lightly.
"Never," he answered.
As he started to move again, Justin wrapped an arm tightly around his waist.
"Prove it then," he whispered as his lips found his throat.
Despite himself Brian leaned into the younger man’s touch and soon sought after his lips with his own. Justin sighed and fell onto his back, pulling Brian on top of him. Brian held back a chuckle. Justin always did this when he was desperate for him not to get out of bed. He’d go down with hardly a gesture. As Brian felt Justin’s calf slowly start to rub against his side he reached for a condom on the nightstand, opened it and put it on while hardly breaking their contact. Justin smiled into their kiss as he felt the familiar, cool wetness before Brian slowly started to push inside.
Moaning softly he wrapped his legs around his waist and put his right hand at the base of his neck for leverage as their familiar rhythm began.
It was quite the test of balance as Justin worked his way into the studio while trying to keep his portfolio and supplies from crashing to the floor. Once inside he set everything down and went to find a vending machine for a bottle of water. There were relatively few students there on a Saturday morning but Justin liked it that way - precious little distractions.
"Hey Taylor."
Before Justin even turned around his stomach leapt into his throat.
As he slowly turned he mentally begged for it to be a professor. Or a fellow student. Or George Bush.
Anyone.
But of course it was precisely who he knew it to be.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Justin asked as he struggled to keep his voice from breaking and his heart in his chest.
"Thinking about coming to school here," Chris whispered as he took a step closer to him. "I think it may be just what I need."
Justin unconsciously took a step back.
"That’s not funny," he strongly answered back.
"Or maybe it is and you just don’t understand my sense of humor," he responded. "It wouldn’t surprise me."
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Justin repeated.
"I told you, I’m looking for prospective schools."
"That’s nice, but I don’t think this institution accepts murderers."
The words flew out of Justin’s mouth before he could stop them and he instantly felt a sharp snap of fear in his belly.
"I didn’t kill anyone you fuckin’ faggot," Chris hissed at him.
Despite his emotional state, Justin noticed a change in Chris’ face when he finished his sentence. Hobbes took another step towards him and this time Justin didn’t back down.
"Why don’t you take a guess as to why I’m here then?"
Justin swallowed and stretched his ears for the sounds of any one else who may be on the floor.
Nothing.
"I don’t know," Justin responded. "But I sure as hell don’t appreciate it."
"Oh well, if the lady doesn’t appreciate it, I should go," Hobbes sneered as he backed off him. "See you around."
Justin watched as he turned and slowly walked away from him leaving the young man alone in the hallway. As soon as he was gone from sight the Justin slumped against the wall, his coins for the vending machine striking the hard title, and felt his body start to convulse.
While his eyes were moist, he wasn’t crying – but his body was assaulted with violent and intense shudders. He wrapped his arms around himself and waited for them to pass before he slowly found his footing again.
Taking in a deep breath he walked quickly back to the room, gathered his work and supplies and left the building fighting to keep his eyes clear and his breathing calm.
Brian was startled to hear the loft door slide open and as he looked from his computer and saw Justin walking back in he waited for an explanation. Justin didn’t even seem to notice that he was there. He dropped his portfolio and box of supplies by the couch and almost ran into the bathroom.
Furrowing his brow, Brian got up and walked in just as just as the water had been turned on.
"Hey," he called out.
Justin gasped a little and whirled around.
"What are you doing home?" he immediately asked.
Brian straightened his back and looked into his eyes.
"Justin, it’s Saturday," he responded. " and we’ve already had this conversation."
Justin was fidgeting with his hands, running them around his neck over and over again while breathing heavily.
"Oh, I know," he answered. "I forgot."
"Justin," Brian whispered as he took a step towards him.
Brian waited amid the sounds of the water hitting the tile in the bathroom for Justin to talk to him.
"He was at school."
Brian’s faced paled.
"Who?"
Of course he knew.
"Hobbes!" Justin yelled out of frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair. "He was at the fuckin’ school!"
"What did he do?"
A tear had slipped down the young man’s face but he hardly seemed to notice.
"Nothing . . yet," his voice was quickly breaking. "I don’t know."
For the first time, Brian took his eyes off him.
"That fucking son of a bitch," he said harshly. "I should have fucking killed him."
Justin watched as Brian moved into the other room, kicking a shoe on the way and sending it sailing across the room. The blonde took a deep breath and followed him out into the main room.
"Brian," he said, his voice softening. "There was nothing you could have done."
"No," Brian answered. "Not that. The other night I - "
He stopped himself and tore at the fabric of his shirt.
"Brian?" Justin questioned as he came closer to him. "Brian, what?"
The taller man remained facing away from him.
"Brian, tell me."
Shrugging his shoulders Brian let out a deep breath.
"Last night at Babylon," he began.
As he paused, Justin took another step towards him.
"He was there."
Brian felt as if he would fall to the floor.
"He was there, just standing in the background," he continued. "I was going to walk over to him when Mikey pulled me away."
Justin felt another tear slide down his cheek.
"He was at Babylon?" Justin asked with a slight laugh of disbelief.
Brian still couldn’t face him.
"You knew?"
He couldn’t move.
"You fucking knew?"
Justin reached out and grabbed his arm, twisting Brian around.
"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked. "Jesus fucking Christ, how could you not tell me?!"
Although he struggled, Brian could find absolutely nothing to say.
"Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!" Justin yelled again as he slapped at Brian’s chest with flat hands - pushing him back across the room.
Brian gasped both of his wrists tightly as Justin moved to lash out at him again but the smaller man quickly pushed himself out of his grip
"Fuck you! Don’t fucking touch me!" he yelled.
Brian watched defenseless as Justin turned without saying another word, slid the loft door open and quickly walked away until he was left only with the sound of the water falling in the bathroom.
To be continued