SHOT BY SHOT Title: Shot by Shot Written By:0corona0 Timeline: Episode 306 Rating: PG-13 Summary: This is based on a plotbunny by girloftheburbs: What if Justin had accepted the drink from Brian at Woody's after he got back from Harrisburg? Author's Notes: Thank you, malli_, for beta-ing. This has been on the burner for a while, now I’m glad that I got it done! Theme: What If... Challenge
When Brian offers to buy him a drink, Justin involuntarily would like to say yes.
But he has a boyfriend.
Justin almost has to laugh then, because when he was with Brian, he had guys buying him drinks all the time and it was okay. And then he chuckles for real, because it’s fucking ridiculous that he’s worrying about whether it’s okay for Brian to buy him a drink while Ethan is fucking some drooling admirer. Now. Right at this moment.
“Sure.”
Even his voice sounds as if he had cried all the way back from Harrisburg. And maybe he has. Maybe he also stopped at a parking lot and screamed his anger out to the highway, and maybe he listened to impossibly loud music, hoping it would drown him, but most of all, his thoughts: Did you really believe him?!
A new drink appears in front of him: Jim Bean. Of course. Drinking escapades with Brian come to mind immediately, nights of which he doesn’t remember much else than a feeling of absolute satisfaction the morning after, despite headaches and dry throats.
“Where’s your fiancé?”, Brian asks in a soft tone, making Justin glance into his face, just to catch those eyes, trying to guess what he’s thinking… an old habit. He doesn’t expect to see so much as worry or even affection. Justin knows better than that.
Or does he?
In the moment that he meets the hazel eyes, Justin wants nothing more than to tell Brian everything. Just get it all out there! He could call Ethan the names he’d given him on the ride home, asshole, motherfucking son of a bitch and in the end the worst of all: Liar. Justin knows that he would be listened to, but he also knows that Brian’s answer, in the best of all cases, would be a blank stare and a calm: “Are you saying your husband’s name is Ethan?”
In the worst case, it would be: “ I told you so.” And, even more awful: “You’re a waste of my time.” Because both would be true.
So instead he says: “Just playing somewhere.”
Good boy, Justin. If you can make yourself believe that, too, you’ll be up next for the Oscars.
“Well… luckily, you’ve got this”, Brian replies and touches the ring briefly. His voice is not overly sarcastic, not as much as Justin expected – or deserves. He stares at the ring himself, and can’t believe that he fell for that cheap trick. “It’s a way for us to be together.” Lying in the tiny bathtub with Ethan that day, it felt so true. Why am I so fucking dumb?
Again, he wants to turn and tell Brian. Or sink into his arms. In that moment it’s not a sexual thought, but the urgent need for soothing and comfort after he has burned out his anger on the drive back. He remembers embraces after nightmares in the dark, remembers them even better than the dreams themselves. Remembers lowly-whispered words and lovely lips, kissing it better.
Don’t be stupid. Things always seem better looking back. Remember, he didn’t love you.
But doubt has crawled into his mind. He’s not so sure anymore.
Brian raises his glass of Bean. “Bottom’s up.”
Justin clinks his own against it and downs the liquid quickly, welcoming the burn with open arms and on his tip toes. Before he has even put the glass down, the bartender is lining up shots on the counter for them. Justin watches them warily, knowing he has no money to pay for getting sloshed. At that moment, Brian flicks his tab across the bar. “On me”, he says to the bartender indifferently, then sees that Justin is playing with a pack of matches.
“Want a fag?”
A cigarette sticks out of the offered pack invitingly. He pulls it out and answers: “Badly.” It’s his first joke of the day, and Justin is grateful that Brian laughs. That dirty, quiet laugh, tinged with something he doesn’t want to think of when he’s starting to get drunk.
Between nicotine, alcohol and that smile with a crooked tooth, shot by shot, is Justin reconsidering love.