InsaneJournal

Original poster: _alicesprings

Title: Roads Traveled
Written By: gaeln
Timeline: From beginning to ending and slightly beyond
Rating: pretty much PG13
Summary: Six stories in four cars (actually three with one car twice) and two other forms of conveyance
Author's Notes: Not only would I like to thank shadownyc for her quick turn-around betaing BUT also for her suggestion for the timeframe for story fifth.




Story One - Gotta Start Somewhere

He’d been unsure at first but after the very hot hotel-bed sex, he’d felt himself on stable ground. Now he knew he shouldn’t have.

The shift…the change…the moving away began even before the very hot hotel-shower sex that had immediately followed the very hot hotel-bed sex but he hadn’t noticed because he hadn’t been expecting either, the shower sex or his moving away. He probably should have expected the shower sex, obviously a personal favorite of Brian‘s, and he definitely should have expected his moving away but he hadn‘t.

And he had been warned -- by Brian himself as recently as when he walked in the hotel-suite door -- by everyone else back in Pittsburgh since he’d first shown up and he should have planned accordingly but…no.

The shower had begun innocently enough, just two guys getting clean after mind-fucking sex. And okay, maybe there had been the occasional brushing of a hip against Brian’s sweet, sweet ass or the unintentional drifting of a stray hand over Brian’s seriously beautiful, semi-erect cock. Just harmless shit really. But, as sometimes happened when one definitely unplanned act led to another, he’d suddenly found himself totally and completely surrounded by Brian, his nearly guttural growls, his over-powering kisses, his controlling hands, surrounded him. Pushed hard, taken hard against the bubble-textured glass, he’d felt possessed, needed, wanted, like someone who mattered.

He should have known better, he had been warned. He just chose not to pay attention, it happens.

Because, once done, once dressed and after a quick cell call to Michael, “Found the twat, running a little late, be at the Jeep in thirty,” the shift…the change…his moving away had been nearly complete.

What he’d expected was that Brian would come take him home and, honestly, that’s just what Brian had come to do. The only problem, their only real misunderstanding had been the definition of home, at least as it related to him. Home to him meant with Brian in Brian‘s loft, but sadly, home to Brian, at least as it related to him, meant with Debbie and Vic in Michael‘s old bedroom. Shit.

And Brian had generously arranged the whole thing for him during the cab ride back to the Jeep, calling Debbie, explaining the ‘situation’ and asking her to call and talk with his mom. “Get her to understand;” he kept telling Debbie, “it’s just not working out with Justin living with me. The loft isn’t big enough for both of us, that’s not how it was designed. I’ve explained it all to him already; he gets it.” At this point Brian had shot him a quick glance, the first…the only recognition of his existence since the ride had begun but he’d ignored him; had just continued staring out the cab window as his side of the city flashed by. Brian had sighed, had looking away, leaning his head against the other cab window, his eyes closed. He could tell without even looking, and he’d heard the weariness in Brian’s voice as he went on, telling Debbie, “He knows he’ll be better off with you and Vic so make her see that Debbie, and listen…thanks…okay?”

And apparently it was okay with Debbie and Vic and apparently she did explain all that to his mom and apparently she was all good with it because he now knew where he was wanted…and where he wasn’t.

Once they got back to the Jeep, once on the road, Debbie had called back with a lot of words on her end and almost none on Brian’s. His only real contribution had been, “And so, what you’re saying is, it’s all arranged, right?” pause…pause…pause, “Okay…yeah, that’s great, and listen…thanks again.”

How could he not have known?

But he hadn’t and now sitting in the back of the Jeep, sandwiched, in a really close and far too personal way, between Emmett and Ted, shooting daggers into the back of Michael’s shotgun-riding head, he realized -- he even contemplated his serious misreading of events, his fairy-tale expectations, the real consequences of conflicting assumptions.

His only option, obviously, was to sulk, except…

…there’s no way in HELL that’s what he would’ve called it. One hour into a five to six hour drive and he was one seriously not-happy boy.

“Com’on baby, cheer up,” Emmett cooed, his breath moving soft across his cheek. “We’re all havin’ just a fine ole time…”

“Need I say, speak for your…”

“You just shut-up, Brian. I’m talking to Justin now, aren’t I sweetie? Anyway, as I was saying…we’re all just havin’ a fine time singing songs and telling tales and here’s you, all mopey and…”

“You keep playing Bette, Em and I don’t know Bette. I can’t sing along with Bette because I don’t know Bette, see?” So maybe that was a little lie, he knew her music well enough but for some reason, he just couldn’t get his head out that hotel-suite, couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the cab conversation between Brian and Debbie.. In short, he hadn’t been paying attention. “And I already did tell you about what I did in New York so otherwise remember?…seventeen, just not that many tales to tell.”

“Give him time, Em, I’m sure he’ll come up with some very interesting tales to tell, eventually.”

“Being around you that’s kind of a given, wouldn’t you say, Brian?” Ted interjected before drifting back to some hidden world only he could see outside the car window. Apparently not singing and telling all that much himself.

But when Justin glanced up toward the rearview mirror, he caught Brian’s eyes, caught a glimpse of his vaguely amused smile and it was then that he realized…all was not lost. His moving away may not have been as complete as Brian initially wanted him to believe. It was then, luckily, that he noticed the road-side sign telling him, and any and all other road-weary travelers, that there was a rest-stop in ten miles, last chance for gas, for food, for whatever, for another hundred miles so, “Uhm, Brian, sorry but I kinda need to piss, think maybe we can stop up ahead?” He caught Brian’s eyes in the rearview mirror again. Cool.

“Yeah…yeah I guess, we need gas anyway,” with the intervening ten miles spent in relative silence, the only real communication taking place, unknown to the others, between him and Brian through the mirror. Once there, once finally out of the backseat and off to the gas-station store to get the key, Justin couldn’t help but feel some serious excitement. Leaving the store, heading to the bathroom around back, he took a quick glance toward the Jeep and he noticed it when Brian tossed Michael the keys, indicating, with a nod of his head, that he should fill it up. He heard Michael’s grumbled complaint but couldn’t understand him, didn’t hear the actual words, just his tone and he knew Michael was a not-happy man…so sad. He couldn’t help but smile…a lot.

And so, standing in front of the bathroom door, fumbling with the ring-encumbered key, he didn’t hear him until…didn’t feel him until a not-so-gentle push propelled him into the still-dark, vaguely yuck-smelling room. “Where’s the switch?”

“Fuck the light; just make sure the door’s locked.”

And before he knew what hit him, Brian was in him, his jeans around his knees, the bathroom-tiled wall pressing cold against his belly, his cheek, his palms. Before he knew what hit him, he found himself filled with that fucking amazing sense of completeness, of being possessed, of being wanted, of being needed once again. But now he understood, this closeness wouldn’t last any further then the bathroom door but he also understood that it would come again.

He may not have Brian all figured out, he may never be able to do that, but as he settled himself into the backseat, shoehorned once again between Emmett and Ted, completely ignoring Michael’s semi-disgusted glances, he also realized he was, at least, getting a clue.


Story Two - Allow Me to Elaborate

“What’d you think of that one guy?”

“Which one guy?”

“The hunk, Brian?”

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific Justin. Just ‘the hunk’ has very little meaning in the greater scheme of…”

“Alright, alright, the ‘blond” hunk, in the black leather pants.”

“With the tight black leather vest?”

“No, not with the tight black leather vest, the one -- wait, where are we going?”

“Gotta stop by the store, we’re out of coffee, did you know that? We have no coffee, can you believe we…?”

“He had seriously green eyes.”

“Who had green…? Oh, the hunk had green eyes -- seriously green eyes? Yeah well, gotta tell ya, don’t much remember their eye color what with me mostly behind them because really…”

“Yeah, I can see where that might pose a problem for – wait, mostly behind…?”

“Did I fuck him?”

“Yes, yes you did. As did I, actually.”

“Well that does narrow it down somewhat.”

“Not all that much, not really but yeah…maybe a little.”

“So make me remember him, Justin. What made him soooo special? Why should I care?”

“He was fucking gorgeous.”

“Huh.”

“Not helping? Allow me to elaborate. Taller then me, beautiful ass, thick-longish hair and like I said, fucking gorgeous…and blond…fucking gorgeous and blond. Ringing any bells?”

“Can’t say that…”

“Had to have had at least a nine, maybe nine and a half inch cock, maybe even longer, can’t be definite but…”

“I know this guy, the one with the diamond stud in his left ear…right? And the little mole right under his jaw on the right side of his throat and yeah, this guy was wearing a silk shirt in a kind of teal or something vaguely greenish that fit him per-fect-ly and, if I remember correctly…”

“You remember correctly enough.”

“Well, when some guy’s important enough for you to bring him up, the very least I can do is try to…”

“Yeah, yeah…right, right, the least you can do I’m sure. So anyway, I hope you don’t mind but…I invited him over.”

“Did you now?”

“Uh huh, I did, I showed…initiative.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays? Showing initiative? I’ll have to remember that next time I…”

“Sooo, I hope we won’t be too long at the store, I’m sure you wouldn’t want him to think maybe we weren’t gonna show up and then get all discouraged and leave or maybe even get cold or…something, now would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t want him to get cold or…something but honestly? you keep rubbing me like that and I won’t care what happens to…”

“The night is young, Brian, the night is…”

“It’s 3am, Justin, the night is not that young and besides…”

“What’re you saying, old…?”

“Don’t go there, just…don’t; otherwise I just may be kicking your ass to the curb and who knows? The mind boggles, it just boggles.”

“Not without me it doesn’t and what the hell does that mean anyway? I mean I know what it implies but what does that word actually mean?”

“How the fuck should I know Justin? Look it up.”

“Any…hoo, he says I’m just his type, all sweet and pretty.”

“Pretty…yes, but sweet? He obviously doesn’t know you very well.”

“Well, there was only that one fuck but it was a very sweet fuck so who’s to say really? I mean, it was my pretty face and my sweet, sweet disposition that attracted you to me, now wasn’t it, Brian?”

“While I wouldn’t call it an actual attraction, if questioned, like now, I would have to say it was your persistence mainly, you are one persistent little shit.”

“Why Brian, I don’t know what to say?”

“Christ…finally. Hey, don’t hit me, I could crash the car and then where’d we be.”

“All dead…in heaven, together…for..e…ver.”

“You know what? I think it would be best if you just got out of the car. Now. Go get the coffee. You do remember what I want, right?”

“Starbucks… whole bean…Sumatra. Anything else?”

“Just make it fast, the night is still relatively young and your hunk awaits.”

“Our hunk awaits. Now promise you won’t leave without me?”

“Justin…”

“Promise me, promise.”

“This is stupid but alright, I promise you, now get going and try real hard not to pick up anyone else while you’re in there.”

“You know, you’re really not that much fun, you do know that…right? I mean, where’s your sense of…?”

“Just go and get some more lube. I think we’re running out and we, obviously, can‘t allow that to…”

“I’m going, I’m going. See me go?”

And he knows, as well as he knows anything that as he walks into the store Brian’s eyes will never leave him. That, for as long as he can, Brian will watch him and he basks in knowing that, takes a longer way to the coffee aisle just so he can stay in Brian’s line-of-sight a little longer.

Just so he can stay in that feeling of being wanted just a little while longer.

As of right now, as of this moment in time and space, he’s not worried, he‘s not afraid. The night is young and there are so many different ways this journey can go, so many right ways and so many wrong.

This may always be the right way for them, maybe not, who knows…right? But for now anyway, it is. For right now, this is the way that works best for both of them. Grabbing the coffee and two tubes of lube, he pays in cash and heads back to the Jeep, and to Brian, and to whatever adventure awaits them next. In this case it’s a beautiful blond hunk in tight black leather jeans with seriously green eyes and a nine inch plus cock.

Just so sweet, just so very, very sweet and he’d defy anyone, he’d just defy anyone to say otherwise.


Story Three - Anytime

“Who knew bein’ outlaws, in a Corvette for fucksake, could be so boring? Who…thefuck…knew?”

“Are you bored? Oh I am so sorry. Look, look, I have an idea, I know what let‘s do. Why don’t we, you and…y’know, me, why don’t we just jet on over to Disney World or…or…even better, how about Vegas…right? We got all the time…in…the…world, right? Right? And yeah money is a problem but maybe I could just drop you off at the next truck stop and you…maybe then you could hustle us up a little cash and then we’d be all set, a little gas money, a little gambling money. We’d spend the night drinking and carousing; pick us up a couple of chicks. Shit, just think of it, the fun we could have.” Michael takes a dreamy pose, looking with half-closed eyes at the road ahead, just for effect.

“You are just fucking with me, right? Just….fucking…with me, aren’t ya? It’s just sooo much fun to fuck with the kid.”

“Well, you do pretty much set yourself up for it. I mean, if you weren’t such a whiny little…”

“Jeezus, Michael, we’ve been on the road forever…”

“Three days, we’ve been on the road…”

“Whatever. Point is, I am seriously not having much fun anymore.”

“Hunter…dear, let me explain this to you once more, okay? You need to stop fidgeting and listen to me? Are you…are you listening to me…Hunter? Are you? Because I am only going to say this to you one more time, okay? This is not about…”

“I know this one, uhmm? …about having fun, right? This is not…let me repeat, NOT about having fun, I got that Michael, no really, I did…I do? I…whatthefuckever. I get that, Michael but c’mon guy, does it have to be this boring?”

“You know, I am risking my job for you, mister. I could seriously end up in….”

“Jail. Yeah yeah,…right right…blah blah. No, no look…look Michael, don’t think I don’t appreciate everything you’re doing for me…everyone’s doin’ for me, ‘cause I do but pleeeeeeease, can’t we just stay somewhere a little nicer this time, maybe some place with, oh I don’t know, say…a pool.”

“You don’t want much, do ya kid?”

“No, not really, I really don’t think…I mean all I really want…”

“Alright look, just tonight, a pool, okay? But don’t expect these kinds of high-class accommodations every night, okay?”

“Yeah, well, about that? Uhhh…how many nights, Michael? How many more nights?”

“I don’t know, Hunter, I…uhmm, I really don’t know. Until we get some kind of word it’s okay to come home, y’know? We can’t go back until we get some kind of word it‘s okay.”

“You…you won’t let her take me, right? You guys won’t let her take me away from you, right?”

“That’s what this is all about, Hunter, buying some time until they can find a way to stop her…keeping you away from her until then. Ben, Melanie, even Brian, everyone’s doing what they can, okay?”

“Yeah…okay.”

“And listen, speaking of Brian, you better get your fucking shoes off his dash, if he ever finds out you had your shoes up on his dash…jeez-us, that’s all I’ve got to say.”

“And how the fuck’s he ever gonna find out, I’m sure-as-shit not gonna tell him…you? Yeah, didn’t think so. And…uhmm, Michael?”

“Yeah, Hunter.”

“Thanks…okay? Just…thanks.”

“Anytime, Hunter…anytime.”


Story Four - The Good Dr. Thomas Alex Anderson

“Ohmygod, my ass is killing me, I seriously need an ass-specialists, something must be misaligned or…worse, something could be even worse then misaligned, Teddy.”

“What could be worse then misaligned?”

“I have no idea and is that not the point? I need to find out.” Emmett shifts the cell phone to his left hand while using his right to check his begonia’s watering needs which, fortunately, are fine, just one less thing to have to worry about for the moment. “You have to come get me, I’m certain I need a specialist.”

“I would’ve pretty much thought you’d been seen by every decent ass-specialist this town has to offer, Em. What more can any man do?” Ted can’t help but inquire.

“He can align me…Ted, that’s what any decent man, be he ass-specialist or be he whatever, can do. And anyway, I haven’t been seen by anyone decent since The Liberty Ride so I made an appointment with a Dr. Anderson and I’ve chosen to wait until the very last moment to ask you to take me.”

“Be he doctor or be he…?”

“Chiropractor…Ted. He’s a chiropractor, as if that really matters. Just come get me, alright? I can barely sit down?” He’s wandered over to the CD player, idly trying to decide between Barbra or Bowie, Barbra or Bowie? What to do? What to do? “It’s very impractical, I need to sit.”

“Well, I’m sure you do but really, you just overdid it on the ride, it’s only been a couple of days, these ass things can take a little while to…”

“We’ve been over this before and I’m sorry but I’m just not buyin’ it. Now, will you come get me or am I going to have to take the bus, Ted…the bus for Christ’s sake.”

Ted sighs audibly, making a show of being put-out which he isn’t really and concludes with, “I’ll be there in ten, Emmett, meet me out front,” thereby, and unknowingly, taking care of the whole Barbra/Bowie dilemma which makes Emmett very, very grateful.

And so he does meet Ted out front in ten and it’s as though he’s never actually stopped talking even as he’s getting into the car. Ted can only be amused.

“See, see what I mean?” I sit, I hurt, this is unacceptable, I can’t live like this.”

“It’s been two days, Emmett, I really don‘t think…”

“Two days can be a lifetime, Ted, a lifetime, I assure you. So I really don’t care how long it’s been, I really don’t, I need something, pain killers or …something, anything to get me through this. I can’t sleep at night, did you know that? Well, of course you didn’t but…”

“I don’t know if chiropractors can prescribe drugs.”

“The fuck you say.”

“Not sure but I don’t think so, might not be an option,” Ted can’t help but explain as he pulls into traffic trying to both avoid the bicycle-messenger guy and get ahead of the sports-car guy, a very tricky maneuver and one he handles with ease. “And how’d you find this guy anyway, referral?”

“Well, no not an actual referral…”

“What’s not-an-actual-referral?”

“Well, when I Googled Pittsburgh Ass-Specialists, he was near the top of their little list-linking thing.”

“All the way at the top, huh?”

“Well, near the top, under the Sponsored Links part. Oh, you know, that…that little sidebar thing…on the right, he was right there…near the top.”

“I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t go with the top guy…THE top ass-specialist in the greater Pittsburgh area.”

“Well, the top guy was a gal and so really -- no way. I mean, no offense but really…no way. And the next top guy was way, way too old. I mean as much as I loved my Georgie…please. The next top guy, well, he was kind of…not cute, know what I mean? Seriously, who knows what this guy’s gonna be doin’…back there and I do need my visuals so it was with the fourth guy from the top that I found my Tommy.”

“Your Tommy?”

“Humm, that’s right, Teddy, my Tommy -- Dr. Thomas Alex Anderson, Chiropractor and…dream man.”

“A combination not to be taken lightly. Is he as dreamy as say, ohhhh, I don’t know, Dr. Dave?”

“Waits to be seen, Teddy, waits to be seen, it really does and don’t think I didn’t notice that hint, that whiff of sarcasm in your voice because I did…alright, I did. Oh God, we’re here, already? How do I look? Do I look alright?”

“You look fabulous, Em,” and he really did, all pulled together and color-coordinated and…right.

“I really do, don’t I,” as he checks himself one last time in the passenger-side visor mirror. “Not too bad at all…for an aging queen.”

“You’re thirty-one, Emmett.”

“Yes but in queen years…God, what would that be? the mind staggers, it really does. Well, I’m off, Teddy, wish me luck,” as he unfolds himself from the car and stands fidgeting at the curb.

“Go on Emmett, this isn’t the Daytime Emmys, it’s a visit to the chiropractor’s, you’ll do just fine. Go, go on and call me when you’re done, I’ll come get you. We can do lunch -- at the diner.” This last part Ted very nearly sing-songs which makes Emmett laugh which is, in fact, the whole point. “Go, get your ass-massage, flirt shamelessly with your probably completely straight chiropractor and I’ll meet you back here when you’re done. Just call.”

“What would I do without you, Teddy? You make me soooo happy,” and he does a little hand-wave over his eyes, drying fake tears, well, drying mostly fake tears anyway.

Ted smiles to him, a reassuring smile before he pulls back out into traffic. He glances into his rearview mirror, finding him, watching as Emmett offers him a little wave before finally turning and strutting into the medical building, on his way to his Dr. Tom and on his way to his ass-massage. “Hopefully you’ll never have to find out, Em,” he whispers to him even if he’s now nowhere in sight, “If I have any say in it, you will never have to find out. I promise you.”


Story Five_A Long Night’s Journey to Alleghany

He needed to stay calm, had to stay focused, had to re-find his center and stay there. Hard to do when everything around him was in chaos. With the cries of ambulance sirens -- taking away the injured…the dead -- deafening his ears. With the blaze of lights -- search lights…police cars lights that flashed everything only into confusion through the dust…the smoke of Babylon exploded into ruin -- blinding his eyes. The swirl-sound of dozens of voices fighting for his attention, the pleas for help, the cries of pain…people hurt, people lost, and they all had to be shut out. They all had to be left behind as he climbed into the back of the ambulance that was taking his Michael, unconscious and bleeding, away.

“I’m going with him, I’m his partner.” And they let him in.

This was the ambulance that would carry them to help so he sat in the back, at first quiet, he knew in a kind of shock, watching as hands, the hands of strangers, hooked Michael up to monitors and machines. And since there was nothing he could do to help, he sat quiet and he watched as the hands of strangers worked to save his husband’s life.

His life, oh God please….this can’t be happening…please, please, this can’t be happening…I don’t know what to do, what should I do?

But he didn’t know what to do so he waited and fought for calm and the reality of it began to settle into him. As they rode mostly in silence, him and Michael and the two paramedics, inside the weird darkness of the back-of-the-ambulance while outside it’s sirens shrieked, the realization settled into him that these people were trying to save Michael’s life.

He could die…oh Christ, oh Christ, he could fucking die, please, please no, no. A prayer.

Stay calm, stay calm, he needed to stay calm so he stared at the monitors with their screens flashing numbers, with their speakers constantly beeping, trying to get an understanding of what all those bright-light flashes and Star Wars-like beeps meant. He stopped when he realized he didn’t…he couldn’t understand. He’d find out soon enough, when he’d found his center enough to ask without screaming. Then he’d find out what everything meant.

What if they couldn’t save him? What would he do, how would he survive if they couldn’t -- if they didn’t save Michael?

So for a minute he sat, so silent and so alone, in the darkest corner…away, searching for that center, that place of calm, his face hidden in his hands trying just to breathe, breathing strength, from that place of calm, into his trembling body, listening as the two paramedics talked quietly, controlled and efficiently, to each other, satisfying themselves that they had done all they could for now. Listening as they called in, “Yeah, we’ve got another one from that nightclub explosion…” He tuned them out. Not now, not yet.

He startled when he felt a gentle hand, when he heard a concerned voice, “Sir, are you Ben? He’s, he’s saying the name Ben, would that be you, sir?” When he nodded his yes, looking slowly up into the eyes of the young man, his gaze was returned by one of concern, of understanding. This man didn’t care if they were gay or straight, he simply knew love when he saw it.

“Is he awake? Is…is Michael awake?” he tried to keep the shaking from his voice. He tried to stay in his center. He was unsure if he succeeded and decided it didn’t matter, at least not yet. Once they got there, once at the hospital, then it would matter but not now.

His paramedic smiled, a quick little smile with a shake of his head no. “He’s, well, he is still unconscious, sir, it’s…I think it’s a little like he’s talkin’ in his sleep,” and when Ben laughed a little,” he grinned and continued, “He does that doesn‘t he? Talk in his sleep? I thought that would be the case, I was almost sure of it. Look, why don‘t you come sit by him, just talk to him, couldn‘t hurt and it sure might help, if not him, then maybe…you? C’mon, come sit by him, okay? We‘ve done what we can for now and we‘re right here, obviously, if there should be any change.”

So he did. He knelt by Michael’s gurney afraid to touch him, so many tubes, so many wires, so much hurt…he was just so fucking hurt and he felt it as what little of the center he had managed to hold on to started slipping even further away.

Find it, find it, find it and fucking stay there.

A hand on his shoulder, his paramedic’s voice assuring him, “Don‘t you worry about us now, just say what you need to say, this is what we do, okay? We‘ve learned to mind our own business, what you say is between him and you only, I promise you, really? Don‘t mind us at all.”

“Where you from?’

“Pardon?”

“Where – where’re you from? Your accent, you sound a little like a friend of mine…ours, a friend of ours, Emmett. He’s from Mississippi.”

“Well so am I, isn’t that interesting. I didn‘t think there were any other of us Mississippi boys here in Pittsburgh.”

“He…he was with us at the club, I don‘t…I don‘t know what…I don’t know where he is?”

“I’m sure he’s just fine, sir, I’ll bet anything he’s doin’ just fine. We’ll see if we can’t find out something when we get to Alleghany, okay? Now you just focus on Michael, it is Michael, right? I gotta tell you, traffic is a bitch, if you don’t mind my saying so. So you just talk to him, keep him calm and we’ll get this ambulance where it needs to be just as quick as we can.”

Turning back to Michael, really taking in for the first time all the damage hatred had done to him, Ben murmured over his ear, into his hair, “Oh God, Michael please, please baby please…please, please hear me -- I love you, I love you Michael, don’t you fucking leave me, you hear me? Michael…? Oh God Michael I love you, I want my life with you…hear me? Oh shit…shitshit.”

He stopped, instead staring through the small window, past the driver to the night rushing past outside and he realized he was loosing it. All his training, all his meditation, all his work for what? When needed, it all just deserted him; he couldn’t hold on, he felt so lost.

But then he heard him, heard Michael whisper his name and looking down to him he knew, in that moment he knew they’d be alright, they’d be just fine. In that sound, in that whisper he’d found it at last, he’d found his center, his calm. He knew they would be alright. He spent the rest of their journey telling Michael all the things they would do, all the places they would go once he was well. It didn’t matter if Michael could hear or if he couldn’t because there was no longer any doubt in his mind.

Michael would wake-up and once he did, they would be just fine.


Story Six - I Was Just Wondering…

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?”

“Be…cause this…” Brian gestures grandly around the pretty beat-up rental van…“is actually cheaper then shipping all your shit to New York. This way you actually…save money. Fun, huh?”

“Yeah, some serious fun there,” Justin mutters not-so-very-much to himself and he continues his interrogation with, “And that would be the only reason, right? I mean, I know you’ve said that was the only possible reason for you coming with me but I was…”

“What, Justin, you were what? What other possible reason, or reasons, could there be, hummm? You obviously have something going on in that over-active brain of yours so please…inform me.” Brian manages to suppress an almost smile as he discreetly, out-of-the-corner-of-his-eye discreetly, watches Justin shift, with what could almost be interpreted as a kind of nervousness, in his seat.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe -- and I am just thinking out loud here, but just maybe you kind of want, well, you know? I was just thinking that maybe you want to see where I live, y’know? See if my little shared hovel meets with any of your exacting expectations and, as I was trying to explain to you before we actually left Pittsburgh, it doesn’t, in any way…at all. And…it never will.”

“Sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“Yeah, well what with your cock up my ass or down my throat that whole communication thing, it just becomes so…difficult, so…uncertain, and really…”

“…but since that reasoning doesn’t pertain anyway, it really doesn’t matter, now…does it?”

“Apparently not. On-the-other-hand, I just thought it was kind of interesting how once you found out that my hovel-mate is bi, you suddenly had this profoundly unselfish need to drive all my shit to New York. Strange, isn’t it, how that hadn’t been there before, that…need?”

“Well I wouldn’t call it a need really…”

“Perhaps not -- perhaps not, but still, I just think it’s kind of a -- oh I don’t know, an interesting coincidence I guess. And I am pretty sure you can see where I might find that to be an interesting coincidence, right?” Justin concludes not-as-certainly as he started out but nonetheless leans, somewhat nonchalantly, against the passenger side door, watching with dreamily confused eyes as Pennsylvania drifts by. The soft half-smile that plays across his lips, though, does not go unnoticed.

Brian’s driving one-handed, his left arm draped along the bottom of the window frame, his left hand idly drumming along the top of it. He watches traffic, he watches Justin and he feels, well, at ease maybe, maybe something along the lines of content. And okay, he is willing to admit, at least inside his own, very private head, that Justin’s roommate being bi got his attention, caught him off-guard and knowing that may…may have contributed to his taking this adventure sooner rather then later but he would have taken it anyway. When he imagines Justin, he needs to imagine him where he is and the only way he can do that is if he’s been there and experienced the place for himself. And yeah, he does want to make sure it’s safe, that it would at least pass some minimum health code inspection, that since it is a five floor walk-up, the fire escape works but not much more.

He understands himself enough to know he just wants to be familiar with where Justin is and not much more.

“So this guy, what’s his name again?” he questions through a not-very-well-hidden smirk.”

“Jesse, Brian. His name is Jesse. Welsh or English or something that requires a very cute accent.”

“Cute accent, huh?”

“Yeah, Brian, a very cute accent. As I recall, you kind of like accents…right? I think you’ll like his…a lot.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Justin. I will be the judge…of that.”

“And when he saw a drawing I’d done of you, well, that’s when I was absolutely sure he wasn’t totally straight. He may have actually sighed…a little.”

“You don’t say. He sighed. A little?”

“He really did.”

“Huh? Well, I’m intrigued.”

“And wait until you see his cock…whoa.” And yeah, it does hurt when he slams his head against the passenger side window in an obviously futile attempt to duck away from Brian’s only kind-of fake punch but it’s a price he’s willing to pay just to see that momentary look…no matter how momentary, of shock on Brian’s face. And yeah, it was brief, very brief but so worth the pain from his implied, even if false, familiarity with Jesse’s cock.

The man was transparent, like clear glass, just like clear, transparent glass…usually.

“I really think you’re gonna like my place, Brian, I really do. I bought some good quality Egyptian-cotton sheets. Don’t smirk, I know about these things. They’re a 1200 thread count. That’s good. The internet said that’s good and anyway they’re in a deep, very, very deep beautiful, blue -- just for you.”

“That you should think of me, little ole me, and at a time like that…when making your bed, well, what can I say? I’m touched.”

“And don’t I know it.” He chuckles to himself as he settles back in his seat, feeling just fine.”

“Don’t push it, darrrrrling.”

“Darrrling, yeah right,” he mumbles mostly to himself, wondering if it was even possible to say that word…any word, with more sarcasm but then suddenly smiling, having just noticed a road-side sign announcing that a rest stop was coming up in a mere five miles. So he informs him, “Uhmm Brian? Look, a rest stop, in five miles, give you any ideas, any thoughts, remembrances perhaps, regarding rest stops…in general…Brian?” Remembering himself the last and only time he and Brian had traveled this road, going in the opposite direction, a quick, sweet fuck at a rest stop while Michael, Emmett and Ted waited, no doubt bitching the entire time.”

And all Brian does is smile. Well, actually it’s more like an evil, leering kind of grin and Justin finds himself feeling, well…just fine.