wren_kt7oz | Reverberations #7

At last, here is the next chapter. Or at least part of it. I will be posting other pieces over the next week or so, because there's quite a bit that I need to deal with before going back to Homecoming.

Meanwhile, if you think I'm way off base in this chapter, then you could try reading this post, because it gives some of my reasoning, and my thinking as I've been working through the issues that S5 raised for me.

some thoughts on S5

Warnings: Content is suitable for adults only. If you click on the links you are signifying you are old enough to read such content.

Click here for all chapters of Reverberations

Last time

After narrowly escaping major damage from the combined effects of Mikey spreading the rumor that Brian was going to have a Fucking Competition with Brandon, and also that Justin was planning to move out into his own apartment, the boys went to visit Justin's new studio, and dealt with the news that Justin had been recruited into the campaign to fight against the attempt to ban gay marriage.

Reverberations #7

Justin

I can hardly believe this asshole! After fucking over both Brian and me big time, he sends me this email as if nothing has happened.

I’m on the phone to Daph when it arrives and I’m so mad I have to read it to her.

“Can you believe that?” I demand when I finish it.

“Well,” she says. “I know why you’re pissed at him. I would be too, but …”

“But what? He’s been a complete shit to both of us, and now he comes up with this idea for Rage so he expects me to just forget that he’s been doing his best to fuck things up between Brian and I?

“Well, but …”

“But nothing! He can eat shit and die before I’d ever …”

“Justin!” she cuts in, and I fall silent, still fuming. When she knows I’ve stopped, she goes on, “Is it more important to let Michael know what a complete dick he is, or to fight for this cause that you believe in?”

That slows me down, but I’m still seething.

“And having Rage and JT get married … well, it would make a statement, wouldn’t it?”

“Only to people who are already gay friendly,” I protest.

“To all the kids who see the wedding cover while they’re browsing for comics. And who knows? Whether they’re gay friendly or not, it might make them think.”

I sigh. “I guess.”

I’m reluctant to accept that she’s right. I don’t want to let go of my anger against Michael. I don’t want to have to work with him. And I don’t want … well, there are other reasons. Reasons that I don’t want to think about - especially right now.

Daph knows me too fucking well, though, and she knows she’s got me thinking of doing it, because now she gets all enthusiastic and starts bubbling at me the way she does when she’s excited.

“I mean, just think what it would be like for some gay kid to see that. Some kid who thinks he can never have anything even vaguely like that, never have a happy life with someone who loves him, just because he’s gay.”

Now she’s getting way too close to the things I don’t want to think about, so I snap at her. “You can have a happy life with someone without a fucking wedding, Daph!”

She sighs. “I know that, Justin. Remember me? Girl who never wants to get married? But it’s different for gay kids. You told me that yourself. That you thought you could never really have all the things that straight kids have. All the romance.”

She’s quiet for a moment, knowing exactly what thoughts that statement has conjured up. Not fucking stupid floor picnics or “romantic” nights of listening to Ethan practicing his fucking fiddle and forgetting I was even in the room … until he was ready for another burst of ego stroking, of course.

No, she knows I’m thinking about the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, ever will do for me. The thing I can’t really remember.

That fucking dance.

She doesn’t mention it, though. She knows how frustrated I am that Hobbs stole that from me. After a moment, she goes on quietly. “I know that a wedding isn’t the be all and end all of relationships. Of course it isn’t. But it’s a very powerful symbol. And that’s really what this whole thing is about, isn’t it? About bigoted assholes trying to stop gays having the right to that symbol. So think what it would say to gay kids if it was right there in front of them on one of their own comics.”

I don’t say anything, still fighting the fact that she’s right. Of course, even while I’m rounding up arguments against having to do this, having to give in and work with Michael to make this happen, my brain is starting to generate images of Rage and JT in wedding gear. Would Rage still wear his mask? Or would it be a symbol of how he feels that he takes it off?

My mind flashes to an image I haven’t thought of in a long, long time … Brian … Brian pulling off a mask and briefly, just for a moment, letting me see behind it into a world of pain. Then turning away …

Fuck it! First the dance and now that! I so don’t need to be dealing with those memories - or with the lack of the best of them.

But Daph is going on, “It’s like you say …. just because you don’t want to do it, doesn’t mean that you’re willing to let anyone else say you can’t.”

“Daph …”

“Just think about it, okay?”

I sigh. Then, because I really need to talk to someone, someone who won’t immediately start blaming Brian for the woes of the whole fucking world, I say, “Brian will hate it.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then she says, “Well, okay. He might. But you …”

She stops. As if I can’t hear the rest of that sentence. You shouldn’t let him control what you do.

But it’s not about him controlling me. It’s not even about me being afraid he’ll be pissed. If it was just that, I wouldn’t be hesitating like this.

The thing is that …

I don’t want to hurt him.

No one seems to have any idea how much he’s been hurt by Michael’s attitude lately.

And by Lindsay.

After all the shit the munchers put him through, demanding that he give up his parental rights to Gus, he finds out that they never made Michael sign anything like that. And that isn’t supposed to make him feel like total shit.

It’s like all of them think he doesn’t have any feelings at all. Like they think that Gus, and having rights as Gus’ father, just mean nothing to him. I’ve heard Michael say stuff like how he doesn’t want to just be a “drop in Dad” like Brian.

Yeah, like Brian’s a waste of space as a father because he actually put what he thought was best for Gus above what he might have wanted for himself.

And then Lindsay actually came to Brian to get help to fight for her rights to JR. Like it’s never even occurred to her that he could do the same thing over Gus. As if he’d never even think of that, because he’s such a shitty father he doesn’t care that he has no rights at all even to see Gus if she and Mel decide they don’t want him to.

So all the pain that he went through, agonizing over giving up his rights to Gus, that’s all just nothing, and it was all for nothing anyway, and it’s all been stirred up again by the whole legal thing over JR. And to top it all off, Mikey’s been behaving like a complete holier-than-thou asshole for weeks - ever since they got married, really. Topped off by that fucking dinner party. Shoving it in Brian’s face how pathetic Mikey now thinks Brian’s whole life is, just because it isn’t like his.

Well, thank God for that! Who’d want to live in their boring little suburban mind set anyway?

But if the thing is that if Rage and JT get married, then it could seem like that’s what I’m setting up as the ideal. That I’m saying that Mikey and his pretentious asshole friends are right, and that is how everyone should live and Brian is just wrong or somehow retarded to want to live differently than they do.

And there is no way, just no way in Hell that I am going let anyone think that I’m siding with all of them against Brian.

But that’s how it will seem if I do this. It’s how it will seem to Brian.

At least, that’s what I’m afraid of.

I realize that I can’t tell Daph any of that, because it’s all way too personal about Brian; and I’m happy to spill my guts to her about my feelings, but I’ve no right to talk to anyone else about his. Which means that I can’t really tell her anything much that I’m thinking right now. I just say that I’m not really worried about how Brian will react (which isn’t exactly true, but not for the reasons she might think) and that I’ll think some more about Michael’s idea (which is totally true).

Then I hang up and try to work out what to do.

Daph’s right, the comic is a good way to get the message out there. It may not help fight the bigots right now. But it might help shape the way that kids see things; and that has to be good for the future.

But it’s not just Brian who will think I’m siding with Michael and all these hypocritical self-righteous new friends of his.

It’s worse that that. It’s how it will seem to Michael.

I mean … this isn’t just any gay super hero. This is Rage. And JT. So if the wedding makes it seem like they’re settling into cozy domesticity it will seem like I’m saying something about us; about Brian and I; about what I want for Brian and I. Like I’m trying to find a way to make life imitate art. (As if! Neither of us are particularly suited for suburban bliss. Unless we were both genetically altered by some nuclear mishap that could never happen.)

But Michael will seize on the whole thing, and he’ll rub Brian’s nose in it. I just fucking know he will. He’ll find a way to use it to make his stupid dickheaded point to Brian about how much more “evolved” little Mikey thinks he is, because he’s got a fucking house in the suburbs, and a damned mortgage and all that shit. Oh, yeah. And because him and Ben never fuck anyone else.

As if any of that matters.

Would I like Brian and I to be monogamous?

Maybe. Sometimes I think I would. Other times, when I’m buried ass deep in some stranger at Babylon or the Baths … not so much.

Anyway, the truth is, Brian is far more faithful to me than Michael has ever been to Ben. Because Brian doesn’t want anyone but me; not in his life - however briefly he wants to get into their pants. But Michael has always wanted Brian; wanted to be Brian’s everything; wanted Brian to be his. Part of him always will. And Ben has to live with knowing that.

Mind you, Ben’s no saint either. Back when I was at PIFA, I picked up goss from kids who attend occasional classes on the campus where Ben teaches about him and some kid in one of his classes. This was back just before they got married. Seems like Ben came very close to playing away from home, and the only thing that stopped him was that the kid turned out to be a total nut case. Maybe Ben even fucked him. I don’t know. I don’t really care. None of my business.

Except that Ben and Michael make such a big thing about how they’re somehow “better” than Brian because they’re so committed to each other. Yeah, right. One of them was ready to start fucking one of his students, and the other one still hankers after his so-called “best friend”.

I know whose partner I would rather be.

I know who has the really loyal, really faithful partner.

And it’s not Michael. And it’s not Ben.

Fuck it!

I need to talk to Brian.

I sit and think deeply for a while, plotting a way to make this work for us, not against us. Then I send an email. But not to Mikey. Not yet.

***

Brian

Work, for once, is going smoothly when his email pops onto my screen.

Can he walk me home?

What the fuck is that?

I send back and ask him if he thinks I’m some fucking schoolgirl. He answers that I’m far too pretty to be a fat, pimply schoolgirl, but that if I want to play, he’s happy to be the big bad wolf.

I give a crack of laughter at that, as he goes on, promising not to walk me down any dark alleys.

I send that I’m disappointed, I’d be more than happy to have him walk me down a dark alley or two, but that I’ve got the car.

‘Can I get a lift, then?’ he responds.

‘Sure.’ I tell him, wondering what the fuck is up. ‘See you at five.’

He turns up all sunshine and sex and I’m tempted to ravish him in the board room, but there are still people everywhere, coming up with the first draft for a new campaign that needs to be ready for my inspection in the morning, so I exercise restraint for once and we saunter down to the car with no more than a deep wet kiss.

I can feel him buzzing with energy, and I recognize the symptoms. This is how he was when he was fighting Stockwell. This is Justin in clever devil mode, and it’s fucking hot.

I’m not sure what he’s cooking up, but he’s always even sexier than usual when his creative side really kicks in and I have to hope he isn’t planning to spend the whole night in the studio. He asks if we can stop by there on the way home, though, and at first I think he wants me to drop him off. But he says there’s something he wants me to see.

We haven’t christened the place yet, so I’m thinking about whether it’s any worse on my clothes to fuck there than in the alley outside Babylon. They had some sort of cleaning bee there yesterday - Justin, his little girlfriend, Jenn, Deb, Emmett - even that poor sucker Carl got roped in. I, thank God, had an important client meeting and just couldn’t make it. I even earned Ted’s fucking gratitude when I gave him an excuse not to don an apron and pitch in by insisting he sit in on the meeting.

Anyway, after they spent all day on it, the place should be a little cleaner than it was, so maybe …

I notice that even the wall of the stair way has been scrubbed, and figure that I should at least be able to get a blow job without having to trash my favorite suit when he opens the door and ushers me in.

There are two drawings pinned to the wall. Rage drawings.

Rage is in some sort of fucking futuristic tuxedo, carrying JT who’s wearing some fucking white outfit. Oh, of course! Fuck this! I feel my insides turning to hot ice. If this is meant to be a hint, Sunshine … I turn to face him.

He looks me in the eye and says way too fucking calmly, “Michael sent me an email today. He’s had this idea for a new story for Rage.”

I snort. That fucking explains a lot! But not why Justin is buying into this shit. I bite my lip; my insides feel like they’re in a concrete mixer, but I can at least try to hold it together on the outside. I can’t fucking do this! I can’t … if this is what he wants then …

Well, I always knew it wasn’t going to last forever. Although I had started to at least believe in tomorrow; I guess tomorrow just got shorter than I expected, that’s all.

“He wants to do it to help the gay marriage initiative. To help fight Proposition 14.”

I snort again. That is beyond fucking stupid. Do they imagine that all those homophobic cunts are going to be in Mikey’s little shop buying this damned comic?

“Brian … I know that it’s a small thing. I know that. I know it’s not going to help a lot. But at least it’s us, it’s me, saying to all those assholes that I’m not going to back away from this fight. It’s me saying to all the gay kids who come into Mikey’s store that it’s okay to want this. It’s okay to want to live your life and your loves openly. That they deserve to have more than a guilt ridden ten minutes in some back room once a month before they sneak home to the obligatory wife and kids.”

He stops the little speech and takes a look deep into my eyes, so that I have to turn away from him. His voice is very quiet, and deadly serious as he says, “But I know what a can of worms this will open up for you, for us. So if you’re not okay with it, I’m not going to do it.”

I turn to look at him now alright! I give him the full force Kinney glare. How the fuck does he dare to put this on me?

Of course, the little shit just gives me one of those ‘don’t give me that shit, I’m on to you’ looks. The ones that simultaneously make me want to puke and howl and bury myself in his ass. They scare the fuck out of me and make me feel … safe, okay? For some God forsaken reason they make me feel more fucking safe than anyone has any right to feel; if they’ve got even a fucking ounce of sense, that is.

“Brian,” he says, still quiet, still serious, “this isn’t about us. We stopped being anything like Rage and JT a long time ago.”

That nearly does it for me.

I can’t fucking stand here and listen to this. My gut feels rigid now - a concrete slab of pain. I’m sorry I stopped being your fucking hero, Sunshine, but I never asked …

His voice cuts across the pain, making it break in pieces and then just … vanish.

“You stopped being like Rage when you put everything you had at risk to fight Stockwell … not even knowing if it would work.”

He gives me a smile then … not the blinding one that earned him his nickname, but the small, intimate smile that he seems to save for me.

“Rage … I don’t think Rage has that kind of courage. Not the kind to risk everything he’s fought so hard for all these years. He’s just superhero stupid fuck brave.”

I stand and stare at him, then I have to look away. It doesn’t matter, though, because his voice follows me. “You’re the real deal.”

I can’t speak. My throat is so tight it aches. His hand brushes mine for a moment, then he turns to look at the drawing and there’s something like contempt in his voice as he goes on.

“And I stopped being like JT a long time ago, I hope. All needy, and ‘oh, Rage, save me!’” he finishes in a mincing falsetto that draws a slow grin from me.

I reach out an arm for him, hooking it round his shoulders, and he turns to me and his arms go tight around my waist.

“We’re not like Rage and JT at all anymore,” he says, as he rubs his nose against my chin. “They’re stuck in comic land where they can never grow old, but they can never get any wiser either.”

His arms squeeze tighter as he looks up at me, all serious blue eyes and that sweet small smile. “We got a lot smarter along the way than they can ever be. We’ve outgrown them. I don’t need the things from you any more that JT needs from Rage; and you …”

His eyes swim for a moment, or maybe mine do, as his voice trembles with emotion, with … with love …

“You’re so much more than Rage will ever be able to be. He has to stay the same forever, but you …”

He laughs then, and kisses the corner of my mouth. “You’re …”

He breaks off as I twist my head to bring my lips down hard on his.

I don’t know if I dare hear what he thinks I am. Whatever it is, he doesn’t hate it, and that’s all that matters to me right now. What I am is okay with him.

What he fucking thinks I am.

But the truth is …

He’s always been onto me.

I have to believe that that’s still true, and that the Brian he sees, the one who makes him glow like this, exists somewhere in me.

And when he smiles up at me, his lips all red and his cheeks flushed, and then slithers down my body till he’s kneeling before my stiffening cock on the floor (the floor that at least looks now as if it’s seen a mop sometime in the last fucking decade), I find that I can believe it. I can believe in that Brian. Or at least, I can believe in him; in Justin.

Even if I can’t quite believe in “forever”, I can still find it in me to believe in him.

on to #8

Current Mood: loved
Current Music: You Go to My Head

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From:

tazza-di-jo.livejournal.com

that the Brian he sees, the one who makes him glow like this, exists somewhere in me (...) I can still find it in me to believe in him

*blinks tearfully*

Oh, Brian!

Thank you, Wren. This... this is how it should have happened. This is the Justin I loved in S3. I've been so disappointed in S4 and S5 because the plot points were GOOD, only they were realized FOR SHIT! As I already said, you're making it right, as it should have been. You're giving us back the real canon!Justin and Brian.

I wasn't expecting this chapter so soon! What a nice surprise! Can't wait for the rest.

And I'm trying to get better at feedback. See? :D

From:

tazza-di-jo.livejournal.com

Also loved this:

"Rage … I don’t think Rage has that kind of courage. Not the kind to risk everything he’s fought so hard for all these years. He’s just superhero stupid fuck brave."

I stand and stare at him, then I have to look away. It doesn’t matter, though, because his voice follows me. "You’re the real deal."

And I always kind of hated that cover of the comic. I mean, where is it written that it's always Rage (Brian) that has to do all the sweeping-off-one's-feet thing? Why is Brian the only one expected to buy flowers or do the wooing? And where is it spelled that those are the only ways of being romantic? *shakes head* We're fighting for equality for girls and then transfer the stereotype on to gays? What you had Justin just do? *points up* That is sweeping Brian off his feet, in a way that's real and matters much more than been carried like a baby dressed in white with a bunch of red roses in hand.
< /rant>

From:

My QAF World

Reverberations #7

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