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All things considered, Brian was handed the shit poking end of the stick. Physical pain and torment to his head a countless amount of times. Injuries that never healed correctly. The world didn't want him, hadn't gotten rid of him, but they still need him. Jay needs him. He's the only one that knows anything going on. Right? (He needs to be needed.)
They're approaching the end. Jay has the means to solve this travesty, has the willpower. It should've been Tim. Tim should be the one righting the wrongs.
He braces himself against the wall, coughing - fuck it's getting worse. And Jay is right there. There's more concern to the detectives brow than any intention of harm, but he grabs the wrench and swings, keeping him at bay. Jay's concern is his advantage, and he finally clears a path and books it.
"STOP RUNNING FROM ME!" Jay tackles him. The air is knocked out of his lungs, not because of Jay, but just the sheer surprise of it. He didn't think - no he knows Jay couldn't and can never catch up with him. Yet here they are.
He kicks and thrashes around and should be able to push Jay off, but he's got him down at a weird angle, and his long limbs are locked around him like some kind of camcorder spider monkey.
His eyes hurt from the lack of sleep and the horrible sight he has in this thing. Every muscle has some kind of pull or knot in it. Badly healed joints click and crack. Malnourished, dehydrated, cold and hot all at once, but they're pains he's used too. Pains he can ignore and fight and he'll be fine.
He'll be fine. Compartmentalize it, shove it away. He's numb, he's fine. He thinks about nothing. Nothing is on his mind. He's going to win, he's going to outlast Alex. The world has taken everything - let it keep taking. He's not giving up.
But it hurts so much. So so much. Death would be a blessing but he still fears it after all this time. Fears being alone - though he already is.
He doesn't know where the thrashing stopped or the crying began, but Jay is trying to do something.
---
Totheark, rather Brian, is like a fussy sick baby. There's not a moment that he doesn't fight, especially when Jay tries to wash him in cold water. He stinks and he's too hot and needs the bath, but he rakes at Jay's arm, getting water and drops of blood everywhere before the bony (but apparently strong) man is finished with him. Jay doesn't know if it's all out of fury or fear, but damn is he stubborn.
Slowly, like an angry cat, he is warming up to the stupid detective. A stupid detective who's beneath him in every aspect and - how dare he scratch his scalp!? Oh but it feels nice. Nice to be touched by someone who isn't trying to kill him.
---
He lays on some kind of mat, propped up with pillows under a thin white sheet, fan circling overhead to keep him cool enough. It is a comfortable dark, the single open window is covered. Jay said he had to lay low, but he is finding it increasingly difficult with the things his mind is conjuring. Whenever he closes his eyes to bare it, his stomach churns.
Jay had basically shoved a "peanut butter and peanut butter" sandwich down his throat, along with a river's worth of water. Everyday. He couldn't stand drinking water anymore, and Jay brought him an iced coffee.
His hand cuffs loosely around the thing, dripping with condensation. Of course this means he has to get up for the bathroom at least every hour. Just standing makes an invisible fervour rise to his head and he has to stagger against the walls. He doesn't know where Jay was. He just told him to stay in the dark, and don't answer the door.
But he hasn't called the cops. He hasn't turned him in. And he made it clear that he could stay as long as he needed. The mix of insanity and a person so close and not fearful, is giving him a weird craving which he ignores. Jay is just as sick as him, well, mentally speaking.
Brian is sick in all forms.
He's anxious sitting still for so long but also grateful. It's 90 out today and getting caught sick in the woods would've been disastrous in this heat wave, especially as he can only breathe through his mouth.
He sets the coffee aside, ignoring the bile rising up, and tucks his arms under the sheet, cold and hot all at once, finding it increasingly challenging to stay awake.
He doesn't stay under long, waking up with a bad feeling and being alone isn't an option right now. He pulls the neck pillow away, standing up, and begins trembling down the hallway. 'Jay … Jay …' He's so dizzy.
Like an angel or devil, Jay enters the hall way up ahead and stops.
"Oh Brian, you ok?" He shook no. "I know - I'm sorry for making you stay here it's just that I don't want Alex -" He slumps forward, being caught under the armpits. "Woah … easy there."
'So close ….' Jay is pleasantly warm, a bit sweaty, and Brian breathes in that scent of him. He could get high off of him. He probably is. He doesn't remember the last time he's been able to think clearly. But he knows what he wants. That's the one thing he can always determine.
He rubs his face into Jay's neck. Forehead resting on his pulse. 'Yes … alive.'
"Umm" he bumbles a bit nervously before Brian presses up against him, hands coming to hold them together.
"Are you .." Jay feels something pressing against his leg from the jeans. 'O-oh.'
He ever so slightly moves his knee, and Brian whines. He does it again and his hips stutter. He's serious.
"Come on … let's just go … lay down."
He gets Brian back in the room, getting him to relax back on the random yoga mat he had - because a bed was too unbearable for his smoldering skin. "Hold on, I'll go get something to cool you down."
Brian attempts a groggy protest, until Jay comes back into view, something clinking next to his head. Jay pats his face with a cool towel.
"You're not feeling well…" But the tone of it - Brian can't detect the exact meaning of it, and he shivers.
He lets out a noise by mistake at the shock of cold touching his bare skin, an ice cube being traced across his stomach. Then a freezing cold hand print, water dripping on to his bare skin, a frigid thumb brushing over his nipple, and any remaining walls fall away, giving himself entirely.
With both hands, he grabs Jay's wrist and brings his hand down to his pants, looking at him red in the face.
If that is what he needs, Jay won't hesitate to give it to him. He opens the front of his jeans and boxers and nimbly pulls his member through like it's perfectly natural to do. He runs his cool thumb along the underside of his dick, pushing it up towards his bare stomach, and Brian keens.
"Shh, shh, I know, I know."
He wraps his fingers firmly and cold and the cold water provides enough slick to move, but still a strong dragging friction. Brian pushes his legs around, trying to move into the touch.
Jay bites his lip with a shudder, his voice deepening with a sweet lilt and the natural anxiety he carries with him."It's ok, I'll make you come, just relax."
Brian could probably split him in half if he wanted too - taller, heavier, and much stronger - but Jay doesn't even flinch when he attempts rolling on to his side, trying to turn his head into the pillows. Jay pushes him back flat. He wants to see this, wants to take him apart and pull the fever out, put him back together again with care.
He pants, covering his face, apparently not having expected that, and he revels in Jay's soft touch and forceful hand. He brackets Brian's legs to keep him there, the poor thing already so close.
"Gorgeous…" He lets slip, leaning down to press a gentle trail of kisses to his belly. He has a devilish idea, slipping an Ice cube under his tongue.
He'd meant to only give him a hand job, but the way Brian whimpers for more has him lowering his head and pinning his hips, sucking his dick appreciatively, the ice making him even crazier. He briefly pokes him with the sliver directly, earning the first semblance of words he's gotten out of him in days. "Ah!"
"Almost there sweetheart? Let me take care of you."
Brian approaches orgasm differently then Tim when Jay does this to him. He's quieter, whimpers and whines only, but his right leg kicks out, rubbing against the floor like he can thrust into something. Tim's hands will lay by his head, tangling in his own hair on occasion, while Brian runs his hands over his chest, his abdomen, flexing his fingers lightly.
Jay can see how beautifully wanton he is, needing some reprievement.
'He'd probably jump my bones like a rabbit … another time. Stop it Jay, purge those thoughts!'
His fingers dig into the foam of the yoga mat, arching his hips as much as possible. The pleasure builds higher and higher until the crest is unavoidable, no choice but to let nature take its course.
He lets go with a broken yelp, as much as he can with such an underused voice. Jay's happy to let him, running a hand up and down his thigh encouragingly.
He sits up, spitting the spend into a tissue, cleaning them both up, wiping the sweat and water away from his body.
"Do you feel better now?"
He nods, hands in Jay's pockets to keep him close, but he complies, laying next to him.
"You can go to sleep, I'll be right here." He says, petting the side of his face much too gently for what he deserves. He can't help himself, leaning into the touch that stills to cradle his cheek. "It's gonna be ok." And for once, he wants to believe it.