Makes Me Wonder
Aug. 10th, 2007 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oh_ameliaTitle:
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hsbfc
Chapter: 9/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, sex
Summary: Totally AU. Justin asks Brian for his help after Ethan won’t leave him alone. How far will Brian go to help the blond? And how far will Ethan go to make sure Justin is his?
Disclaimer: QUEER AS FOLK is property of COWLIP and SHOWTIME. I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: The title was inspired by Maroon 5’s song MAKES ME WONDER, but has nothing else to do with the song. And I want to say thanks to my wonderful betaelyxer. You rock! Without your encouragement I would not be writing. THANKS and I love ya!
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
“What the fuck?” Brian said as he lifted the gate on the elevator.
The door to the loft was open and the alarm was beeping like crazy. He walked slowly into the loft, stunned at first, and then becoming more and more pissed off. He punched in the alarm code to stop the incessant beeping, and slammed the panel shut.
“Holy shit…” Justin covered his mouth with his hand as he looked around the loft. The computer desk was completely empty, and in the kitchen shards of broken glass littered the floor. He carefully stepped around the smashed flat panel television, as he made his way further into the loft. In the bedroom, the lights about the bed were destroyed, and the closet was completely empty with the exception of a few hangers. Everything that could be broken was. The bathroom was the only place that seemed to escape the destruction.
“My fucking television.” Brian gritted his teeth as he surveyed the damage. “And my computer,” he said, pressing on his temples. “Oh fuck, my files.”
In the bedroom he saw his empty closet and ran his fingers through his hair, his palm gripping the back of his neck. “They stole my fucking clothes!”
The bags of food completely forgotten, Justin continued to walk through the loft in a daze and couldn’t help but think that this was all his fault. He made his way down the steps of the bedroom and sat down on the couch. He buried his face in his palms, and listened as Brian called the police.
Brian ended the call and tossed the cell phone on the kitchen counter. Glass crunched below his feet as he made his way to the living room. He paced around, waiting for the police to come make a statement.
“I’m so sorry, Brian,” Justin said, looking up at the other man.
”Didn’t I tell you sorry is fucking bullshit,” Brian snapped, coming to a halt. “Besides, what the fuck are you sorry for?”
“This,” Justin said, spreading his arms wide, gesturing at the destruction. “This is my fault.”
“What? Did you somehow sneak away in the 5 minutes you left me alone at the grocery store and come back here and rob me?” Brian asked sarcastically.
“No,” Justin answered with a scoff. “But it’s my fault that this happened. This never would have happened if it weren’t for me!”
“Stop being a drama princess.”
“It’s true, Brian,” Justin insisted. “Since you've met me, you've had your tires slashed and your loft vandalized.”
“It’s not you. It’s Ian.”
“Exactly!” Justin exclaimed, standing up. “Ethan is my problem, not yours. You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit.”
“Justin—”
“No.” Justin shook his head. “I’m just gonna go back to my apartment and let you get back to your life,” he said as he picked up his messenger bag.
The downstairs buzzer rang and Brian put his hand on Justin’s shoulder, pushing him back down on the sofa.
“Will you just wait a minute?” Brian asked as he pressed the button to open the door downstairs. “Let me give my statement to the police, and then you can finish your queen out.”
Justin groaned in frustration as he leaned back on the sofa. “Fine, but my mind is made up. I’m going.”
“Whatever,” Brian said as he opened the door. Moments later two policemen arrived. They skipped pleasantries and got right down to business.
“So,” the taller cop said after they looked around. “Have you had any strangers in the loft recently?”
Brian scratched his jaw and sighed. Before Justin, he would’ve probably had at least 5 different guys come through the loft that week, but since the blond had been staying with him, the flow of men had decreased.
“Uh no. Just family and close friends,” Brian answered honestly.
“Well, we’ll call you if we get any leads,” the shorter one said as he finished writing down his notes and closed his notepad, stuffing it in his front pocket.
“Brian, can I go now?” Justin asked after Brian closed the door.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Brian said as he crossed the room and stood in front of the blond.
“I’m not?” Justin asked, crossing his arms and arching his eyebrow.
“Justin, you came to me and asked for my help. This is me giving it to you.”
“And this is me saying you don’t have to anymore.”
“I didn’t have to in the first place,” Brian said.
“Brian,” Justin sighed. He rested his elbows on his knees and the balls of his palms pressed against his forehead. He didn’t want to leave, but after this, he felt he had to. Brian didn’t deserve this.
“Listen to me Justin,” Brian said. “Are you listening?”
“Yeah,” Justin answered as he raised his head to look at Brian.
“You’re giving up,” Brian told him. “You’re letting him win. Don’t you see? This is what he wants.”
“You can’t like having me here all the time,” Justin said. “Doesn’t it frustrate you that you can’t bring a trick back to your loft?”
“If I wanted to bring a trick here, I’d fucking do it,” Brian shot back. “But that’s not the point.”
“And what is the point?”
“The point,” Brian said, “is that I’m not going to let you give up.”
“Some people might think I already have,” Justin said. “Staying here with you, instead of being a man and dealing with Ethan on my own.”
“Well, those people can go fuck themselves,” Brian said. “You needed help, so you asked for it. Sometimes a man knows when to ask for help. You did.”
Justin ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
“Now, come on,” Brian said as he kicked Justin’s shoe. “I need to get some fucking clothes.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Michael gripped his beer bottle and listened to Brian tell them about what happened. He couldn’t believe he was just now finding out about it. It was probably Justin who told him not to call. Yet another reason to get the blond out of the lives for good.
“Twelve Armani suits, four Gucci belts, and six pairs of Prada shoes gone,” Brian listed off some of the various items that were missing from the loft, and took a swig from his beer, finishing it off. “You know, I’m starting to suspect gay on gay crime.”
“Brian, this is no time to joke,” Michael said with a frown. “This is serious.”
“I know it’s serious, Mikey.”
Justin placed another beer in front of Brian, and took a sip from his own, before resting his arms on the table. He fidgeted with his bottle cap and tried to ignore the nasty looks Michael was giving him.
“So what are you going to do about clothes?” Emmett asked Justin.
“I don’t know.” Justin shook his head. “I can’t say anything to my mom, cause then she’ll freak out and insist that I move home immediately. And that is so not gonna happen.”
“Look,” Brian said, turning to face Justin. “I already said that I’d help you.”
“And I already said no,” Justin replied. “I’ll just take out a loan or something.”
“What are you gonna use as collateral, your ass?” Brian asked.
Justin took a deep breath and shook his head. He knew Brian was right. His job only paid enough for the bare necessities. There was no way he could afford to replace everything that was stolen.
“Stop being such a twat. I’m just trying to help you.” Brian sighed.
“You’ve helped enough,” Justin insisted. “But…I guess—”
“Are you fucking serious?” Michael screeched at Brian, interrupting Justin. “You’re just going to give him your money?”
“I’m just helping him out like I would any of you. Now he’ll have something more in his wardrobe than just cargo pants and t-shirts,” Brian said. “And I’m not giving him anything. It’s just a loan, boyfriend or not,” he added.
“Fucking right it is,” Justin said. “And I intend to pay you back every cent.”
“I just hope they can find who’s responsible,” Emmett said as he sipped from his Cosmo. He wasn’t sure why Michael was so against helping Justin out. After all, it was Brian who helped Michael when he wanted to buy his own comic book store last year. And this was something Justin actually needed, not just something he wanted.
“Oh, I know who is responsible,” Brian said.
“You do?” Michael choked on his beer, the liquid sputtering out of his mouth. “That’s great, Brian,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Who?” Emmett asked.
“The same little asshole that fucked up my Jeep.”
“You think is was Ethan?” Ted asked, an unsure look on his face.
“He’s the only one I can think of,” Brian answered.
“But why would Ethan destroy Justin’s stuff too?” Emmett asked. “I’d think that he’d just go after your stuff.”
“And even if he'd somehow gotten in, the alarm would have went off,” Ted reasoned.
“That’s true. Unless someone,” Michael said, looking pointedly at Justin, “forgot to set the alarm.”
“What the fuck are you looking at me for?” Justin asked, his annoyance with Michael growing.
“Well, I know Brian, and I know that he would never forget something as important as setting the alarm to the loft,” Michael said with confidence in his voice.
“You’re right, Mikey,” Brian said. “I wouldn’t.”
“And,” Michael continued. “I also know that shit like this never happened before you came along.”
“Look,” Brian said. “I’ve already had this conversation once today, and I don’t feel like having it again.”
“But, Brian—” Michael whined.
“No.” Brian finished his beer and set the bottle on the table. “End of discussion. All I want to do now is go to Babylon and fuck my brains out.”
“Amen to that,” Emmett said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Ted added.
“You coming, Mikey?” Brian asked.
“Yeah,” Michael answered. He grabbed his jacket and followed his friends out of Woody’s.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Babylon was packed and it took almost 5 minutes to make it to the bar. Michael ordered a drink and watched as Brian wasted no time in finding his first trick of the night.
Justin leaned back on the bar, and stood between Ted and Emmett. Listening to them was hilarious. He laughed as he listened to them describe previous tricks.
“I met this guy the other day who could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue,” Emmett said. “I was afraid to let him blow me.”
“Did you?” Justin asked.
“Of course,” Emmett answered with a smile. “And believe me, there were so many other things he was able to do with his tongue.”
“Did you happen to get his number? “Ted asked, pulling out his cell phone.
Brian returned minutes later and grabbed the water bottle from Justin’s hand and took a drink. He set it on the bar and took the blond’s hand in his.
“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s dance.”
Justin let himself be led onto the dance floor, and smiled as Brian pressed against him.
Michael finished his beer and slammed it on the counter. “I’m leaving,” he said with a scowl.
The nights were getting colder, and he wished that he had worn something heavier than his thin, cotton jacket. He pulled the jacket closer to his body as he made his way down the streets. He just couldn’t understand why Brian would keep Justin around after what happened. And buying the little shit new clothes on top of it.
He opened the door to the apartment building and cursed when he saw the elevator was out of order. He groaned in frustration as he made his way up the stairs. The halls seemed closer together at night, and he started taking the steps two at a time.
He banged on the door with his fist and didn’t stop until he heard the man inside the apartment yell for him to “fucking stop already”.
“Hey,” he said when the door finally opened. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 8 | Chapter 10
Author:
hsbfcChapter: 9/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, sex
Summary: Totally AU. Justin asks Brian for his help after Ethan won’t leave him alone. How far will Brian go to help the blond? And how far will Ethan go to make sure Justin is his?
Disclaimer: QUEER AS FOLK is property of COWLIP and SHOWTIME. I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: The title was inspired by Maroon 5’s song MAKES ME WONDER, but has nothing else to do with the song. And I want to say thanks to my wonderful beta
elyxer. You rock! Without your encouragement I would not be writing. THANKS and I love ya! PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
“What the fuck?” Brian said as he lifted the gate on the elevator.
The door to the loft was open and the alarm was beeping like crazy. He walked slowly into the loft, stunned at first, and then becoming more and more pissed off. He punched in the alarm code to stop the incessant beeping, and slammed the panel shut.
“Holy shit…” Justin covered his mouth with his hand as he looked around the loft. The computer desk was completely empty, and in the kitchen shards of broken glass littered the floor. He carefully stepped around the smashed flat panel television, as he made his way further into the loft. In the bedroom, the lights about the bed were destroyed, and the closet was completely empty with the exception of a few hangers. Everything that could be broken was. The bathroom was the only place that seemed to escape the destruction.
“My fucking television.” Brian gritted his teeth as he surveyed the damage. “And my computer,” he said, pressing on his temples. “Oh fuck, my files.”
In the bedroom he saw his empty closet and ran his fingers through his hair, his palm gripping the back of his neck. “They stole my fucking clothes!”
The bags of food completely forgotten, Justin continued to walk through the loft in a daze and couldn’t help but think that this was all his fault. He made his way down the steps of the bedroom and sat down on the couch. He buried his face in his palms, and listened as Brian called the police.
Brian ended the call and tossed the cell phone on the kitchen counter. Glass crunched below his feet as he made his way to the living room. He paced around, waiting for the police to come make a statement.
“I’m so sorry, Brian,” Justin said, looking up at the other man.
”Didn’t I tell you sorry is fucking bullshit,” Brian snapped, coming to a halt. “Besides, what the fuck are you sorry for?”
“This,” Justin said, spreading his arms wide, gesturing at the destruction. “This is my fault.”
“What? Did you somehow sneak away in the 5 minutes you left me alone at the grocery store and come back here and rob me?” Brian asked sarcastically.
“No,” Justin answered with a scoff. “But it’s my fault that this happened. This never would have happened if it weren’t for me!”
“Stop being a drama princess.”
“It’s true, Brian,” Justin insisted. “Since you've met me, you've had your tires slashed and your loft vandalized.”
“It’s not you. It’s Ian.”
“Exactly!” Justin exclaimed, standing up. “Ethan is my problem, not yours. You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit.”
“Justin—”
“No.” Justin shook his head. “I’m just gonna go back to my apartment and let you get back to your life,” he said as he picked up his messenger bag.
The downstairs buzzer rang and Brian put his hand on Justin’s shoulder, pushing him back down on the sofa.
“Will you just wait a minute?” Brian asked as he pressed the button to open the door downstairs. “Let me give my statement to the police, and then you can finish your queen out.”
Justin groaned in frustration as he leaned back on the sofa. “Fine, but my mind is made up. I’m going.”
“Whatever,” Brian said as he opened the door. Moments later two policemen arrived. They skipped pleasantries and got right down to business.
“So,” the taller cop said after they looked around. “Have you had any strangers in the loft recently?”
Brian scratched his jaw and sighed. Before Justin, he would’ve probably had at least 5 different guys come through the loft that week, but since the blond had been staying with him, the flow of men had decreased.
“Uh no. Just family and close friends,” Brian answered honestly.
“Well, we’ll call you if we get any leads,” the shorter one said as he finished writing down his notes and closed his notepad, stuffing it in his front pocket.
“Brian, can I go now?” Justin asked after Brian closed the door.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Brian said as he crossed the room and stood in front of the blond.
“I’m not?” Justin asked, crossing his arms and arching his eyebrow.
“Justin, you came to me and asked for my help. This is me giving it to you.”
“And this is me saying you don’t have to anymore.”
“I didn’t have to in the first place,” Brian said.
“Brian,” Justin sighed. He rested his elbows on his knees and the balls of his palms pressed against his forehead. He didn’t want to leave, but after this, he felt he had to. Brian didn’t deserve this.
“Listen to me Justin,” Brian said. “Are you listening?”
“Yeah,” Justin answered as he raised his head to look at Brian.
“You’re giving up,” Brian told him. “You’re letting him win. Don’t you see? This is what he wants.”
“You can’t like having me here all the time,” Justin said. “Doesn’t it frustrate you that you can’t bring a trick back to your loft?”
“If I wanted to bring a trick here, I’d fucking do it,” Brian shot back. “But that’s not the point.”
“And what is the point?”
“The point,” Brian said, “is that I’m not going to let you give up.”
“Some people might think I already have,” Justin said. “Staying here with you, instead of being a man and dealing with Ethan on my own.”
“Well, those people can go fuck themselves,” Brian said. “You needed help, so you asked for it. Sometimes a man knows when to ask for help. You did.”
Justin ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
“Now, come on,” Brian said as he kicked Justin’s shoe. “I need to get some fucking clothes.”
Michael gripped his beer bottle and listened to Brian tell them about what happened. He couldn’t believe he was just now finding out about it. It was probably Justin who told him not to call. Yet another reason to get the blond out of the lives for good.
“Twelve Armani suits, four Gucci belts, and six pairs of Prada shoes gone,” Brian listed off some of the various items that were missing from the loft, and took a swig from his beer, finishing it off. “You know, I’m starting to suspect gay on gay crime.”
“Brian, this is no time to joke,” Michael said with a frown. “This is serious.”
“I know it’s serious, Mikey.”
Justin placed another beer in front of Brian, and took a sip from his own, before resting his arms on the table. He fidgeted with his bottle cap and tried to ignore the nasty looks Michael was giving him.
“So what are you going to do about clothes?” Emmett asked Justin.
“I don’t know.” Justin shook his head. “I can’t say anything to my mom, cause then she’ll freak out and insist that I move home immediately. And that is so not gonna happen.”
“Look,” Brian said, turning to face Justin. “I already said that I’d help you.”
“And I already said no,” Justin replied. “I’ll just take out a loan or something.”
“What are you gonna use as collateral, your ass?” Brian asked.
Justin took a deep breath and shook his head. He knew Brian was right. His job only paid enough for the bare necessities. There was no way he could afford to replace everything that was stolen.
“Stop being such a twat. I’m just trying to help you.” Brian sighed.
“You’ve helped enough,” Justin insisted. “But…I guess—”
“Are you fucking serious?” Michael screeched at Brian, interrupting Justin. “You’re just going to give him your money?”
“I’m just helping him out like I would any of you. Now he’ll have something more in his wardrobe than just cargo pants and t-shirts,” Brian said. “And I’m not giving him anything. It’s just a loan, boyfriend or not,” he added.
“Fucking right it is,” Justin said. “And I intend to pay you back every cent.”
“I just hope they can find who’s responsible,” Emmett said as he sipped from his Cosmo. He wasn’t sure why Michael was so against helping Justin out. After all, it was Brian who helped Michael when he wanted to buy his own comic book store last year. And this was something Justin actually needed, not just something he wanted.
“Oh, I know who is responsible,” Brian said.
“You do?” Michael choked on his beer, the liquid sputtering out of his mouth. “That’s great, Brian,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Who?” Emmett asked.
“The same little asshole that fucked up my Jeep.”
“You think is was Ethan?” Ted asked, an unsure look on his face.
“He’s the only one I can think of,” Brian answered.
“But why would Ethan destroy Justin’s stuff too?” Emmett asked. “I’d think that he’d just go after your stuff.”
“And even if he'd somehow gotten in, the alarm would have went off,” Ted reasoned.
“That’s true. Unless someone,” Michael said, looking pointedly at Justin, “forgot to set the alarm.”
“What the fuck are you looking at me for?” Justin asked, his annoyance with Michael growing.
“Well, I know Brian, and I know that he would never forget something as important as setting the alarm to the loft,” Michael said with confidence in his voice.
“You’re right, Mikey,” Brian said. “I wouldn’t.”
“And,” Michael continued. “I also know that shit like this never happened before you came along.”
“Look,” Brian said. “I’ve already had this conversation once today, and I don’t feel like having it again.”
“But, Brian—” Michael whined.
“No.” Brian finished his beer and set the bottle on the table. “End of discussion. All I want to do now is go to Babylon and fuck my brains out.”
“Amen to that,” Emmett said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Ted added.
“You coming, Mikey?” Brian asked.
“Yeah,” Michael answered. He grabbed his jacket and followed his friends out of Woody’s.
Babylon was packed and it took almost 5 minutes to make it to the bar. Michael ordered a drink and watched as Brian wasted no time in finding his first trick of the night.
Justin leaned back on the bar, and stood between Ted and Emmett. Listening to them was hilarious. He laughed as he listened to them describe previous tricks.
“I met this guy the other day who could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue,” Emmett said. “I was afraid to let him blow me.”
“Did you?” Justin asked.
“Of course,” Emmett answered with a smile. “And believe me, there were so many other things he was able to do with his tongue.”
“Did you happen to get his number? “Ted asked, pulling out his cell phone.
Brian returned minutes later and grabbed the water bottle from Justin’s hand and took a drink. He set it on the bar and took the blond’s hand in his.
“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s dance.”
Justin let himself be led onto the dance floor, and smiled as Brian pressed against him.
Michael finished his beer and slammed it on the counter. “I’m leaving,” he said with a scowl.
The nights were getting colder, and he wished that he had worn something heavier than his thin, cotton jacket. He pulled the jacket closer to his body as he made his way down the streets. He just couldn’t understand why Brian would keep Justin around after what happened. And buying the little shit new clothes on top of it.
He opened the door to the apartment building and cursed when he saw the elevator was out of order. He groaned in frustration as he made his way up the stairs. The halls seemed closer together at night, and he started taking the steps two at a time.
He banged on the door with his fist and didn’t stop until he heard the man inside the apartment yell for him to “fucking stop already”.
“Hey,” he said when the door finally opened. “We need to talk.”
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no subject
Date: 2007-08-17 11:32 pm (UTC)Is that a rhetorical question? LOL Pretty damn stupid I'd say.
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