Chapter Text
Four months ago . . .
Brian rises to his knees so abruptly and forcibly that he almost knocks Justin on his back. Fortunately, Justin has a secure grasp on his hips so the result of Brian’s unexpected movement merely serves to drive Justin’s cock deeper inside him. It’s the result Brian clearly intended. He makes a hungry, ragged sound. If Justin had any room in his brain left for casual thoughts, he would’ve sworn that Brian was going to spend the entire time lying down. He never would’ve imagined that Brian would surrender so completely, give himself up so entirely. The whole concept of Brian with his ass in the air had, before that moment, been impossible to even imagine. Never in his wildest dreams had Justin pictured the scene now playing out before him – a scene in which, at last, he is the star. After staring at his cock disappearing into Brian’s body, Justin lifts his gaze. He has to. He’ll come if he doesn't, and he isn’t ready to come yet. He never wants this to end. Brian’s face is buried in his pillow while his arms reach forward, clutching the edge of the mattress as though he’s hanging on to the side of a lifeboat in a stormy sea. The sounds he’s making are muffled but still loud enough for Justin to hear them. Every now and then, Justin also hears a word. “Fuck.” “God.” “Deeper.” “Harder.” And most amazing of all, “Justin.”
Brian had only ever said his name during sex once before. It was the night they first made love after the bashing. Brian had whispered his name against his neck, brushing Justin’s skin with his lips so lightly that it’d made Justin shiver, igniting the hunger he’d been missing. But there’s no whispering now. Brian is shouting, demanding, slamming backward into Justin’s every thrust, the muscles in his back flexing under skin shiny with sweat. Somewhere in his lust-clogged mind, Justin realizes Brian’s going to come like this. He’s not even going to touch his dick. And he’s close. Justin can feel it in the glorious tightening around his thrusts. Now if only he can hold on until it happens. He’ll be so disappointed if he comes first, although that said, he’d probably be able to keep going. He can’t imagine ever going soft again. He’s going to be walking around for the rest of his life with a perpetual hard-on.
“I’m gonna come,” Brian says brokenly. “Don’t change your rhythm.” He’s turned his head to the side to make sure Justin hears him. His face is red, his eyes squeezed shut. Definitely a come face. Justin had become an expert in Brian’s various expressions when he comes, so he knows. His balls start to tingle and the sensation spreads to his thighs.
Don’t fucking come. Don’t fucking come, he starts chanting through clenched teeth. He tries to think of something that will turn him off, but every image vanishes with Brian’s next backward shove. He desperately wants to look down, but he knows that’ll be the end. He’s seen Brian with a dildo in his ass before, but not from this angle, and it’s no dildo that’s making Brian sound like a porn star – it’s his cock . . .
He can’t resist any longer. He looks down and three things happen simultaneously. Brian comes. Justin realizes the condom is torn. And then he comes. All at the same time. Onetwothree.
The Present . . .
When Lindsay calls to invite him over, Justin feels apprehensive. Why does she need to see him just a couple hours before a party she’s going to attend? The answer is obvious. She wants to talk to him alone. But why should that trouble him? She’s been nothing but supportive of his plan to accompany Ethan on his European tour. She’d even compiled a list of art museums he has to visit. He’d known she was living vicariously through him, but that was okay. Just talking about all the cities he and Ethan would be seeing made her giddy as though it was her trip too. It was really sweet. So why the last minute weirdness?
Her voice on the phone had sounded urgent. She’d told him that he had to come see her. She’d even sent a cab, which is where Justin is right now, testing the likelihood of possible scenarios. The only thing he believes he’s sure of is that Brian is behind it. What the fuck? Justin had already turned down his offer of a couple thousand dollars. Brian had been annoyed. It’s fucking pocket change! he’d snapped. Just take it. Stop being an idiot. If you want you can pay me back. God, it was so annoying. Brian and his wallet. If only he’d opened his mouth as frequently and been as generous with his words as he was with his money. He was like a shitty father who tries to buy forgiveness from his neglected kids. Well, Brian wasn’t going to buy his forgiveness. Paying tuition was bad enough. Like the string holding a balloon preventing it from soaring, money was the thing that bound him to Brian. Of course, Brian saw it as exactly the opposite; he thought his money was enabling Justin’s pursuit of his dreams. It was yet another point in a long list on which they didn’t see eye to eye.
The cab pulls up in front of Lindsay and Mel’s house, and Justin notices the car’s not in the driveway. Ah, so Mel had been asked to leave. Great. The signs were growing increasingly ominous.
He hadn’t seen Lindsay for a few weeks, so he’s shocked by her appearance when she answers his knock. She looks like she’s lost an unhealthy amount of weight too quickly and hasn’t slept well for God knows how long. There are dark circles under her eyes that she hadn’t bothered to obscure with make-up. Nor had she brushed her hair. Justin is immediately alarmed.
“Is something wrong?” he asks. “Are you sick? Is Gus sick? What’s going on?”
She gives him a wan smile and steps aside so he can enter. He sits down on the couch while she goes to the kitchen to put on the inevitable kettle for tea. She hasn’t answered him. There is definitely something wrong.
“Please tell me,” he calls. “You’re totally freaking me out.”
She doesn’t answer. There’s a long silence finally punctured by the shriek of the kettle. She returns to the living room with a teapot and a plate of cookies. It’s so Lindsay, he thinks. A proper WASP to her turbulent core. They sip and munch, and she keeps pouring tea as soon as his cup is empty. Minutes pass. He wants to tell her to hurry the hell up and tell him what’s going on. Tonight was Deb’s bon-voyage party, and he and Ethan haven’t finished packing yet. Finally, she takes a deep, quavering breath.
“He’s going to hate me forever,” she says dully as though she’d already cried all the tears she can shed.
“Brian,” Justin replies. It’s not a question. She merely nods.
“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t say whatever it is you clearly feel you need to say. Maybe it’s not worth it.”
He knows how close Brian and Lindsay are – especially since Justin left him for Ethan. He’s not with Brian anymore and doesn’t ever want to be again, but that didn’t mean he wants Brian to be alone. Maybe it’s because part of him feels guilty. Yeah, that’s probably exactly what it is.
“He made me promise again and again that I wouldn’t tell you, but I have to. I can’t let you just leave if I don’t. I couldn’t live with myself. You need to be able to make a choice.”
Justin sets down his teacup. “A choice whether to go or not?” he said. “If that’s what it is, then don’t waste your time. I’ve already decided. There’s nothing you – or Brian – could say to change my mind.”
“What if I told you he’s pregnant?” she blurts in one breath.
Justin had been about to bite into a cookie, but when he hears her words, he drops it, scattering crumbs on the rug beneath his feet. He must’ve heard incorrectly. He laughs.
“It’s not funny,” she says flatly. “If it ever was, it stopped being so a long time ago.”
“Brian is not pregnant,” Justin says calmly as though she’s an unruly child he’s trying to reason with. “I see him all the time at the diner.”
“And how many times has he jumped up from the booth and run to the bathroom?”
Justin thinks back. Yes, he remembers a couple instances, but . . . Jesus Christ. Why is he even entertaining the possibility for a second? The whole thing was ludicrous. Even if Brian had been pregnant, Justin doubts he still is. He would’ve had an abortion. Justin is sure of it.
“I’m sure there are other explanations,” he says. “Occam’s razor. The more farfetched the answer, the less likely it is to be true.” He smiles to himself – he’d been waiting to use that term since he’d learned it in Junior High School.
She covers her face with her hands and then scrunches them into fists, catching some of her hair in the process. She looks crazy. In fact, she is crazy. There’s no other way to explain what’s going on.
“I thought you wanted me to go with Ethan,” he says angrily. “Why are you doing this? If you’ve decided I shouldn’t go, then just tell me so we can discuss it. This is so weird. So incredibly fucking weird.”
Her answering laugh sounds brittle and even slightly hysterical. “I knew you’d react this way,” she says when she’d caught her breath. “And why wouldn’t you? I mean, what are the chances. The baby may not even be yours. After all, he’s never told me . . .”
She’s talking to herself.
“Why do you always believe him?” he snaps. “Why do you always take his side?”
“I’m not taking his side,” she all but shouts. “If I was taking his side, I wouldn’t be telling you his secret. He’s going to hate me when he finds out.”
Justin laughs and stands up. “Don’t worry,” he says, heading for the door. “He won’t hate you because he won’t find out. What do you expect me to do? Go to his place and demand he pee on a stick? I am not getting involved in whatever this is. I’m leaving tomorrow. End of story. I’m pretty shocked he’d go to such extremes to get me to stay.”
“He’s not going to extremes,” she calls after him. “I am. I’m not saying you should stay; I’m just saying you should know everything first before you go. How can you make a choice if you don’t?”
“I’ve already made my choice,” he says. “I’m sorry you can’t support it. Are you still coming to the party tonight?”
She just stares at him silently with tears streaking her cheeks.
“Now who’s the crazy one?” she says.
He leaves without asking her to call a cab. He’d rather take the bus.