


Seven Drabbles for Britin, Vol 2

by aprilhope



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-08
Updated: 2007-10-08
Packaged: 2013-12-11 08:33:16
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3826254/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/91397/aprilhope
Summary: For some reason, I enjoy posting my BJ drabbles in groups of seven, lol.  Here's a new bunch!  Mostly early season 2  my favorite!, but there's a S3 and a S4, also.





	Seven Drabbles for Britin, Vol 2

Please  
(Brian pov; 122-201)

It kills me and keeps me alive.

Punishment. Penance. Like wearing a hair shirt. Or worse. The noose it should have been. Choking reminder of what was almost lost because of me. How I've lost him anyway.

Lifeline. Comfort. Like his arms, warm, wrapped around my neck. But not. The closest I can get to him now. His blood, staining my skin with memories, so good and then _so_…

I don't like to take it off. Hurts more than wearing it does.

I know I won't forget. Maybe I'm afraid he will… He should.

Forget me, Justin…… No.

_Please_, don't.

xxx

Marinara  
(Justin pov; 201)

Fuck. I feel so stupid.

How can I blame them for treating me like a baby… an invalid… if this is how I act?

I freaked out, practically ran to the corner and hid, over spaghetti sauce.

Because, to my artist's eye, somehow the orangey splotch of tomato matched the angry red or tragic rust of blood. My blood.

Blood I never even saw, outside of my nightmare imaginings.

Where it covers me… the ground, the walls… my old drawings and the canvases I have no use for now… that scarf… Brian.

I need him.

I'll eat. But, after dinner…

xxx

Graduation  
(2nd person Justin pov; approx. 203)

Middle of the night, his voice wakes you. You sit up, blinking your eyes. A rolled up piece of paper is placed in your palm. Sheets pulled around your shoulders like a gown. Hand under your ass pushing you to stand. Something on your head… The tassel tickles.

"Brian, what…?"

Music interrupts… _Pomp and Circumstance_.

"You didn't get to go to your fucking graduation. You don't need it… but maybe you feel like you missed something."

_But found more._ The sweet side he hides in the dark. You kiss him.

"Thank you."

He nods, smiling. "Justin Taylor, graduate… Now, march."

xxx

Proud  
(Brian pov; 204)

Yes, you sarcastic… _hurting_… little shit. Be proud you didn't die.

You know the strength it took to survive that fucking bat and all the hate behind it? The force of will required to fight your way out of a coma? Fight your own body, own mind? Take your life back like you have?

That's who you are. The persistent, brave kid who refused to get out of my life, no matter what I said I wanted. And you're still here. You beat Hobbs… doubting doctors… asshole judges…

_Me_… these walls… you're still climbing.

Be fucking proud of that, Justin.

xxx

Massage  
(2nd person Justin pov; early S3)

Brian massaged your hand when it cramped. Silently, gently made it better.

Ethan's done it a few times. All "my poor baby" and pinching nerves until you smile and lie that he's a miracle worker.

Ethan asks you to massage _his_ hands after hours of violin-playing. They are, after all, his livelihood.

Brian asked you once, just so you'd feel less weird about him having to do it to you. Told you a story of Teenage Brian... jerking off eight times in one day until his hand became The Claw. Made you laugh.

(But Ethan's the one…?… who loves you.)

xxx

Home  
(Daphne/Justin/Brian phone call; 308, later that night)

"Hello?"

"Daph… it's me."

"Justin, where the hell are you? Are you okay? Why are you breathing weird?"

"Am I? giggle Um… just wanted… you to know… I'm not coming home tonight."

"Why?"

"Because… I am home? _Finally._"

"You're…"

"Daphne darlin', your roommate has a lot of unfinished work to do, so I'm gonna supervise, and by that I mean fuck him all night. Okay?"

"Brian?? Oh my God… Yes, that's more than okay! You… you do that!"

"Brian, was that necessary?"

"Get off the fucking phone and I'll find something better to do with my mouth."

"Bye!" click

"B-bye……SQUEE!"

xxx

Suck  
(2nd person Brian pov; S4)

Cancer sucks. In a very literal, nothing even close to positive or life-affirming, way. You feel like all the cells have been sucked out of you and spit dry back into a body now ill-fitting, poisonous to itself… that forgot how to work properly while they were gone.

Justin sucks. In the best way. Even now, when you won't let him. His fucking _presence_ drains the bad… fills you with warmth, wet, life… _fight_ again.

Cancer can go fuck itself. Justin's on your side. In a test of sucking power, even versus the almighty Big C… Justin wins, hands down.

By AHS


End file.
