The Eye of Your Mind
by walmer92
Summary: Justin chooses Brian over Ethan, and everything falls apart
He doesn't know what happened. How he arrived at this place. He remembers when merely having the freedom to be in this room without the constant fear of being made to leave would have left him dizzy with happiness.
But now, he's sitting on the floor, surrounded by the remnants of his attempt at romance. A ridiculous re-enactment, he now realizes, because this isn't what Brian does. That was what Ethan did, had done for him. But Ethan isn't Brian. Ethan is soft smooth words and chocolate brown eyes, and music that sounds almost like love.
But in the end, nothing compares to the harsh beat that thrums through his veins when he sees Brian. Nothing can measure up to his 'not bad' and no eyes are as captivating as the hazel green eyes of his lover.
His lover. The thought brings a laugh to his lips, but it is short and mirthless. Brian isn't his. Brian belongs to nobody. But he's let Justin in, into his house, and his bed, if not his heart. And even a small part of Brian is better than a cheap imitation.
So Justin clears away the plates left on the floor. He showers and goes to bed, moving automatically through his daily routine. It's only after he slips between the covers that he notices the time. It's already close to three. He hadn't realized how long he had sat there, lost in his thoughts.
He wonders if Brian will be home on time. He has no reason to doubt it. It's only he, after all, who has broken their rules before now.
But still he breathes a sigh of relief when the door slides open, and the clock blinks the numbers 2:59 at him in harsh neon colors. He listens to Brian shedding his clothes, and hears him come towards the bed. Feels him slip beneath the covers, and reach for him.
He doesn't question how Brian knows he is awake. He always does. Brian fucks him hard and fast, and it seems to Justin that he holds him a little tighter than normal, as though he can't quite bear to let him go. And then he loses himself to the sensation, and by the time Brian slips out of him, he is sure that he imagined it.
Brian moves away, and he has to bite back a whimper, because he can't let Brian know how much he needs him. That's not what Brian wants. But then he feels the damp of a wash cloth on his belly and thighs, and he sighs instead.
Finally, he falls asleep held loosely against Brian's side, and he remembers how the first time, and so many times after that Brian would simply roll away. Thanks Brian in his mind for the concession.
He falls asleep gently cradled in the arms of the man he loves, and knows he will give up anything, do anything, to feel this way for the rest of his life.
*~*~*~*~*
Brian doesn't know when it happened. He isn't sure why, and has little idea of what. But something has changed in Justin. He gets up every morning and goes to school. Works at the diner. Works on Rage with Michael. Dances till almost three in the morning at Babylon.
But now, his things no longer clutter up the loft. Rather than being glad to have his own space back, Brian is unaccountably irritated. And it seems like months since Justin had asked Brian to pose for him.
Once, Brian had had to drag him out of bed every morning, and shove him into the shower. Now, he wakes every morning alone, his arms reaching into empty space. Justin greets him, already fully dressed, with coffee and a kiss before sliding out of the door.
The first time this happened, Brian had been pleased, glad to skip what had become a regular chore. The second and third he had been suspicious. The seventh time he had become worried.
But worst of all is his smile. Justin still smiles his Sunshine smile whenever Brian enters the room. But otherwise, Brian never sees it. Sitting and sketching, working in the diner - Justin no longer flirts with the customers, and he no longer smiles.
Debbie has of course noticed as well. When questioned, Justin produces a stretching of his lips, a pale imitation of what his smile once was. Brian can hardly bear to look at the cold dead eyes above Justin's smiling mouth.
Although Justin still tricks, more now it seems, since the - whatever - began, the only time he feels Justin is really alive is when he holds him in his arms. The rest of the time, he feels as though he is watching a simulacrum live Justin's life.
He is loath to admit it, but he misses his Sunshine.
*~*~*~*~*
Justin is worried. He has been trying so hard to be exactly what Brian wants. Not to take over his space. Not to hurt when Brian took off with a trick, and didn't bother to say goodbye. To prove that he was worth Brian's time.
But still, Brian seems edgy, unhappy. He has to try harder, has to be better. He cannot live without Brian. He glances at the clock, and sees that it's nearly time for Brian to get home.
He gives the loft a quick once over, to ensure that nothing is out of place. He grabs his sketch book, and curls up as small as possible on the couch.
*~*~*~*~*
Brian walks into the loft, hoping that today will be the day that he will walk in to find loud music playing, and art supplies scattered everywhere. He shakes his head, disconcerted by his own thoughts.
He has always hated the fact that being with someone, even in the broadest sense of the word, means giving up his own space. Now that he has the one thing he thought he was missing, he wishes he could give it back.
As he expects, there is no clutter, no mess, no noise. But Justin is there, sitting on the couch, sketching. Brian wonders how long he has been drawing, hopes his hand is holding up. When Justin hears him enter, he looks up, and his face lights up with a real smile.
It's so brilliant Brian almost has to look away. But then Justin looks down at his work, and it's as though all the light has left the room. Strolling towards him, Brian looks over his shoulder, and smirks when he sees the subject matter.
"Not bad," he says, and is pleased to see a blush creep over the boy's cheeks at the praise. "Of course with such a fabulous model," he drawls, "what could go wrong?" "Shut up," says Justin, and draws him down into a kiss.
Brian is surprised for a moment, but then kisses him back, happy to see part of his old Sunshine once again. But then Justin pulls back a second later, an anxious expression on his face.
Brian smiles reassuringly at him, then leans back into the kiss. He hopes he's doing the right thing, unsure how to react to Justin's sudden shyness. When Justin begins to kiss down his neck, all thoughts leave his head. He will figure it out later.
Brian wakes later that night, still groggy from sleep. He had meant to go out to Babylon, but he and Justin hadn't made it further than the bed.
When he had mentioned this to Justin afterwards, the boy had looked thoroughly guilty, until Brian assured him that he had enjoyed himself plenty where he was. At that the kid had snuggled against his side and fallen asleep. Unusually glad to feel the warmth of his lover against his side, he too had drifted into a sated slumber.
For a moment he is unsure as too why he is awake, used to sleeping through till the alarm. Then he hears it. A small snuffling noise is coming from the lump on the other side of the bed.
Justin.
Shifting slowly towards him, Brian listens intently, trying to make out what Justin is saying.
"No, no, no, no, no."
"Justin."
At the touch of Brian's hand, Justin breaks into audible sobs. He chokes out, "I'm sorry," at the same time, as often as he is able. Brian reaches out to gather Justin into his arms, as he usually does when Justin had a nightmare. For a moment, the boy resists.
But Brian whispers, "Shh, it's ok," and cradles the boy to his chest. The tears eventually run out, but Justin continues to mumble apologies into Brian's chest.
"Justin, look at me." Justin peers up from underneath wet lashes, lips firmly clamped together. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, understand?" Justin nods, although he still looks guilty. "What was the nightmare about?"
"Nothing."
"Justin."Brian's voice carries a warning note, and as he speaks the body beside him tenses.
"I - y, you - you were gone!" Justin burst out.
"Well, I'm here now, ok? I'm right here. Now go back to sleep. And be here in the morning - I miss our shower time." Brian gives his tongue in cheek smirk, expecting an answering grin from Justin.
Instead, he hears a small "I'm sorry, Brian," and then nothing but the sound of Justin's breathing as he falls asleep. He stays awake for hours, trying to decide what Justin is sorry for.
When he wakes up the next morning, he finds the bed empty. But he can hear Justin in the shower.
*~*~*~*~*
Justin is furious with himself. Brian has tried to hard to make him better, to fix him, and he isn't helping. Can't even let him get a full night's sleep. He feels so stupid, so helpless. Can he do nothing right?
Just then, the phone rings, and he scrambles to pick it up. "Justin? Hi, it's Cynthia. I'm Brian's assistant." Justin starts to panic.
"Is-is Brian ok?" He doesn't understand who asked that question. He doesn't recognize the voice. He's sure it isn't his.
"What? Oh, sorry. No, His Royal Highness is fine. He just asked me, ever so politely to call and let you know he had to go out of town unexpectedly tonight. Justin gives a sigh of relief, but at the same time, feels his heart sinking. "
Ok, thanks."
"Oh, and Justin?" She calls him back.
"Yes?"
"He said to tell you he'd still make the curfew."
"Thanks," Justin says again, but this time there is a smile in his voice. As he puts down the phone, he can't help the corners of his mouth twitching, until the smile spreads across his whole face. Then he realizes what he's doing.
"Stupid," he admonishes himself. "Stupid. Just because he'll be in the hotel room by three, doesn't mean he won't be out getting his dick sucked. Doesn't mean that he's missing you."
And for some reason, the second thought hurts far more than the idea that Brian is out tricking. "Which is what I should be doing," Justin tells himself. "Lying here feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to achieve anything."
Getting up, he showers and dresses in his favorite fuck me outfit, skintight jeans, and a pale blue top that moulds itself to his body. Pausing before the door, he takes a deep breath, allowing himself to push all the hurt he is feeling down into the recesses of his mind. He is going to go out and have fun. After all, that is what Brian would expect of him.
*~*~*~*~*
Brian has delivered his pitch, and his mind couldn't be further from the ridiculous problems his client is putting in front of him. If the account wasn't bringing in so much revenue, he would tell him to go fuck himself. Hell, he figures Vance would tell him to go fuck himself.
No, his mind is on the delicious blond boy waiting at home for him. Or fucking his brains out at Babylon. Part of Brian hopes it is the latter, doesn't like the idea of Justin sitting along in the loft.
But a very small part of him, that he is trying to ignore, likes the idea that Justin still wants only him. Hating hypocrisy, he despises this part of himself, but no matter what he does, it won't shut up. Doesn't really matter in the end, he figures. He sure as hell isn't going to do anything about it.
Just then his cell rings, shocking him out of his thoughts. He frowns as he recognizes the number. Justin. Justin knows better than to call him in a meeting unless something is very wrong. Looking up, he sees the others sitting around the table glaring at him.
"Sorry," he apologizes. "Family emergency." He quickly hits the answer button, leaving the room as he does so.
"This had better be good," he says into the cell. He is fond of the boy, he'll admit that much, but if he pulled him out of that meeting because he was lonely then.....Ah, who was he kidding, his mind hadn't been on the pitch.
"Brian, where the fuck are you?"
"Mikey?" Brian frowns. What is Michael doing calling from Justin's cell phone?
"Brian, I'm worried about Justin. He's completely wasted. I've never seen him like this before."
"Like what?" Brian tenses. "Has he been taking candy from strangers?""
No-oo." Michael sounds cautious. "But he's taken a couple of E from Em, and he's been knocking back Beam all night." Brian visibly relaxes. It doesn't sound as though Justin is about to OD.
"So what are you calling for? Boy's got a right to have some fun."
"But that's not all, Brian." Mikey sounds on the verge of panic. "He hasn't been himself all evening. He's barely opened his mouth since he walked in the door. He's insulted Ted. He's not even dancing, just pulling guys to the backroom in between shots. This isn't like him, Brian."
"No," Brian thinks. "Not like him at all. He's acting like-"
"Is that him?" Brian’s hears Emmett’s voice in the background. "Give me that.Now you listen up, asshole." Emmett’s voice becomes clear. "I don't know what you've done, but you get your skinny ass down here and fix it. Sunshine hasn't been himself for weeks, and now he's pulling a Brian Kinney Extraordinaire."
"As if anyone could replace me," Brian drawls, but his heart isn't in it. "Listen, I'm out of town for tonight. You two just make sure he gets safely home. He's fine. Let the kid play with the big boys if he wants to. And if you disturb me at work again, I'll rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat, ok?"
With that he snapped the cell phone shut. "Shit," he thinks. "Shit, shit, shit." No matter what he says, the last thing he wants it to turn Justin into a carbon copy of himself. He can think of few worse fates.