testdog65 (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} testdog65) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} qaf_challenges,@ 2006-11-05 19:37:00 |
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LUMINOSITY
He imagined the sun would feel like liquid.
He imagined sticking his hand into the sun, feeling everything ripple around him and enjoying the way the bright light encased him. He supposed it would feel like he was nothing. The pressure would be off, the fears put away for another day, and he wouldn’t have to do anything but be a simple, existing body.
Yet somehow he didn’t think it would turn out that way. When you’re the sun, or even inside the sun, you’d probably have to worry about lighting the planets. And as far as burdens go, the sun probably carries the greatest burden of all.. He understands burdens utterly and completely, knows their complexities and the way they can wear you down. The way they can break your spirit, diminish your light. He hopes the sun never loses its luminosity.
He figures himself as the moon. And if the sun goes out, it will be all of him that is covered in darkness, instead of just one side at a time.
It happens one day when Brian watches Justin as he shows Gus how to most effectively use his brand new set of professional markers. Gus’s face is lit up, his head tilted to show his shining eyes to one of his favorite people in the world. Justin has his arm around Gus and is drawing quickly with the other. Brian is watching quietly from the shade, a small smile on his face, enjoying the way Justin’s lines become a work of art in a short span of time. Brian is sipping his vente hazelnut latte with one shot of espresso slowly, savoring its warmth, and suddenly, the moment’s peace seems more like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.
Brian has lived through some horrible things in his lifetime. But the two most horrible things he’s ever had to survive have been connected to the one person he’s finally been able to admit to himself he loves the most. The idea of losing him permanently makes his eyes sting, makes him turn away from the laughing group, and stare into the slowly setting sun. He watches as the sun bathes itself in red and forces himself to ignore the obvious metaphor. Bloody Sunshine.
He feels the concerned glances hitting him and chooses to ignore them. Being hostile in this environment – Gus’s seventh birthday party – can only earn him a slap to the head by Debbie. This is his problem and he doesn’t want the others knowing and trying to fix something they would only understand within their own context. It was his problem back when he first thought of it after Justin stole his trick all those years ago and then again when he had to contend with the notion of losing Justin to something even worse than another man: death.
He’s imagined this before. The blood trickling down Justin’s face after a car accident, the morbidly beautiful coffin, the pale face made even paler in death. This is nothing new to Brian. This is just the first time he hasn’t been able to overcome it. He’s surprised it hasn’t overwhelmed him before and is even more surprised it was a happy event that triggered it.
The idea of losing Justin permanently, the idea of Gus’s eyes filling with tears, the idea of a cold, wet stone on what he sees as a day the sun can’t possibly shine make him want to vomit.
It took time for him to reconcile the fact that he even had fears this powerful. It’s not that he is fearless--Brian knows he’s not. In fact, there is probably no one he knows who’s been scared as many times as he has, because Brian has always had something to be afraid of. Dad, Mom, Claire tattling, Mikey wising up and leaving, Debbie slapping him for the last time, not graduating, not making enough money, becoming his father. Brian has always been comfortable in his own skin, but the person inside that skin has always frightened him just enough to keep him sane.
Fear like this isn’t enough to keep him sane. It’s enough to drive him the other way.
Justin’s arms slide around his waist, making Brian chuckle and lose his focus. Justin is on his knees beside him, his face pressing into Brian’s shoulder blade as he hugs him loosely. He is laughing – giggling, to be exact – and this makes the ache in Brian’s chest ease enough so that he can breathe deeply again. Brain schools his face, knowing that when Justin gathers his wits and looks up, he will see that something is wrong and will ask a question that Brian isn’t sure he’s ready to answer.
He’s not at the point where he feels he can fully explain to Justin how much he loves him. Sometimes, knowing someone loves you is the best thing in the world. Other times, knowing someone loves you so much it hurts is a burden. Brian swore a long time ago that he’d never be a burden to his young, rising star.
Brian’s fear isn’t always just for himself, in fact, it usually isn’t. Several times a month, Brian will walk down the stairs and into Justin’s studio and see Justin bathed in moonlight next to the bay windows, painting as if his life depended on it. Inevitably, Justin will stop and rub his hand, wince, and allow Brian to massage it slowly and methodically, because he’s known Brian has been behind him the entire time. Sometimes Brian thinks Justin will burn so bright that Justin will get caught in his own inferno and get lost in the process. The idea of having Justin but not having Justin scares Brian even more than losing him forever.
Fear, Brian is discovering, is an all-consuming and multi-faceted being that takes on a life of its own. Once you give it breath by thinking or voicing it, it grows into something dark and sinister that overwhelms anything or anyone it touches. It is a monster and like most monsters, human or no, it can inspire you to do good or bad. Brian likes to believe his fear drives him to be a better person, a better lover.
If Brian ever loses Justin, it won’t be because of something he’s done. He decided that a long time ago. He doesn’t deny that he still has the capability to hurt Justin more than anyone else, and he knows that he will hurt him, but he won’t ever give him up again. He’s learned that not all apologies are bullshit and that some, if not all, made to a lover are especially important. Fear has driven this belief into his brain so far that he doesn’t know how to think otherwise anymore. All he knows is that while he may not own Justin, Justin owns him. He doesn’t think that Justin understands how much of Brian he controls, but it is everything. Mind, body, and soul. He’s been Justin’s since the night Brian almost lost him. Since the night Brian saw his future lie before him on the cold cement and Brian wished it was him, knew he deserved it more.
Still, there’s hope left in Brian’s heart, hope inspired by the grip of Justin’s hand, hope that fights the fear burning through his veins. The hope says no, everything’s not lost and warms the icy cold grip of fear’s grasp. Brian feels the warmth deep in his soul and it drives him to look down into the clear blue eyes of the man who loves him. Brian sighs, ruffles Justin’s hair and is rewarded with a smile. Brian smiles back, because even though he feels more vulnerable and fearful while in this partnership, it is still better by a thousand times than the crushing loneliness of numerous, nameless, and hopeless tricks. He wraps his arm around Justin, brings him up into his lap, and sighs gently.
When he gets inside the sun, it does feel like liquid. It feels like liquid and heat and tightness and everything he’s ever wanted it to be. When he first slides inside, he is overwhelmed. The sheer brilliance and light makes his eyes burn. The sun seems to completely envelope him in its arms and he’s never felt so welcomed or accepted. Here there is no gay or straight, hot or not, there is only him and the sun and a soothing warmth that plays across his skin in gentle waves.
Nothing can compare to the Sunshine. He’s sure of that now.
Original poster: _alicesprings
Title: Luminosity
Written By: so_wildish
Timeline: Future
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slightly angsty.
Summary: Brian knows fear all too well.
Author’s Note: Dedicated to those who commented on my dare_challenge fic. Thank you all for your kind feedback! And, as always, thanks to my wonderful beta, who never fails to make what I write better.
Inspired By Icon:
He imagined the sun would feel like liquid.
He imagined sticking his hand into the sun, feeling everything ripple around him and enjoying the way the bright light encased him. He supposed it would feel like he was nothing. The pressure would be off, the fears put away for another day, and he wouldn’t have to do anything but be a simple, existing body.
Yet somehow he didn’t think it would turn out that way. When you’re the sun, or even inside the sun, you’d probably have to worry about lighting the planets. And as far as burdens go, the sun probably carries the greatest burden of all.. He understands burdens utterly and completely, knows their complexities and the way they can wear you down. The way they can break your spirit, diminish your light. He hopes the sun never loses its luminosity.
He figures himself as the moon. And if the sun goes out, it will be all of him that is covered in darkness, instead of just one side at a time.
It happens one day when Brian watches Justin as he shows Gus how to most effectively use his brand new set of professional markers. Gus’s face is lit up, his head tilted to show his shining eyes to one of his favorite people in the world. Justin has his arm around Gus and is drawing quickly with the other. Brian is watching quietly from the shade, a small smile on his face, enjoying the way Justin’s lines become a work of art in a short span of time. Brian is sipping his vente hazelnut latte with one shot of espresso slowly, savoring its warmth, and suddenly, the moment’s peace seems more like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.
Brian has lived through some horrible things in his lifetime. But the two most horrible things he’s ever had to survive have been connected to the one person he’s finally been able to admit to himself he loves the most. The idea of losing him permanently makes his eyes sting, makes him turn away from the laughing group, and stare into the slowly setting sun. He watches as the sun bathes itself in red and forces himself to ignore the obvious metaphor. Bloody Sunshine.
He feels the concerned glances hitting him and chooses to ignore them. Being hostile in this environment – Gus’s seventh birthday party – can only earn him a slap to the head by Debbie. This is his problem and he doesn’t want the others knowing and trying to fix something they would only understand within their own context. It was his problem back when he first thought of it after Justin stole his trick all those years ago and then again when he had to contend with the notion of losing Justin to something even worse than another man: death.
He’s imagined this before. The blood trickling down Justin’s face after a car accident, the morbidly beautiful coffin, the pale face made even paler in death. This is nothing new to Brian. This is just the first time he hasn’t been able to overcome it. He’s surprised it hasn’t overwhelmed him before and is even more surprised it was a happy event that triggered it.
The idea of losing Justin permanently, the idea of Gus’s eyes filling with tears, the idea of a cold, wet stone on what he sees as a day the sun can’t possibly shine make him want to vomit.
It took time for him to reconcile the fact that he even had fears this powerful. It’s not that he is fearless--Brian knows he’s not. In fact, there is probably no one he knows who’s been scared as many times as he has, because Brian has always had something to be afraid of. Dad, Mom, Claire tattling, Mikey wising up and leaving, Debbie slapping him for the last time, not graduating, not making enough money, becoming his father. Brian has always been comfortable in his own skin, but the person inside that skin has always frightened him just enough to keep him sane.
Fear like this isn’t enough to keep him sane. It’s enough to drive him the other way.
Justin’s arms slide around his waist, making Brian chuckle and lose his focus. Justin is on his knees beside him, his face pressing into Brian’s shoulder blade as he hugs him loosely. He is laughing – giggling, to be exact – and this makes the ache in Brian’s chest ease enough so that he can breathe deeply again. Brain schools his face, knowing that when Justin gathers his wits and looks up, he will see that something is wrong and will ask a question that Brian isn’t sure he’s ready to answer.
He’s not at the point where he feels he can fully explain to Justin how much he loves him. Sometimes, knowing someone loves you is the best thing in the world. Other times, knowing someone loves you so much it hurts is a burden. Brian swore a long time ago that he’d never be a burden to his young, rising star.
Brian’s fear isn’t always just for himself, in fact, it usually isn’t. Several times a month, Brian will walk down the stairs and into Justin’s studio and see Justin bathed in moonlight next to the bay windows, painting as if his life depended on it. Inevitably, Justin will stop and rub his hand, wince, and allow Brian to massage it slowly and methodically, because he’s known Brian has been behind him the entire time. Sometimes Brian thinks Justin will burn so bright that Justin will get caught in his own inferno and get lost in the process. The idea of having Justin but not having Justin scares Brian even more than losing him forever.
Fear, Brian is discovering, is an all-consuming and multi-faceted being that takes on a life of its own. Once you give it breath by thinking or voicing it, it grows into something dark and sinister that overwhelms anything or anyone it touches. It is a monster and like most monsters, human or no, it can inspire you to do good or bad. Brian likes to believe his fear drives him to be a better person, a better lover.
If Brian ever loses Justin, it won’t be because of something he’s done. He decided that a long time ago. He doesn’t deny that he still has the capability to hurt Justin more than anyone else, and he knows that he will hurt him, but he won’t ever give him up again. He’s learned that not all apologies are bullshit and that some, if not all, made to a lover are especially important. Fear has driven this belief into his brain so far that he doesn’t know how to think otherwise anymore. All he knows is that while he may not own Justin, Justin owns him. He doesn’t think that Justin understands how much of Brian he controls, but it is everything. Mind, body, and soul. He’s been Justin’s since the night Brian almost lost him. Since the night Brian saw his future lie before him on the cold cement and Brian wished it was him, knew he deserved it more.
Still, there’s hope left in Brian’s heart, hope inspired by the grip of Justin’s hand, hope that fights the fear burning through his veins. The hope says no, everything’s not lost and warms the icy cold grip of fear’s grasp. Brian feels the warmth deep in his soul and it drives him to look down into the clear blue eyes of the man who loves him. Brian sighs, ruffles Justin’s hair and is rewarded with a smile. Brian smiles back, because even though he feels more vulnerable and fearful while in this partnership, it is still better by a thousand times than the crushing loneliness of numerous, nameless, and hopeless tricks. He wraps his arm around Justin, brings him up into his lap, and sighs gently.
When he gets inside the sun, it does feel like liquid. It feels like liquid and heat and tightness and everything he’s ever wanted it to be. When he first slides inside, he is overwhelmed. The sheer brilliance and light makes his eyes burn. The sun seems to completely envelope him in its arms and he’s never felt so welcomed or accepted. Here there is no gay or straight, hot or not, there is only him and the sun and a soothing warmth that plays across his skin in gentle waves.
Nothing can compare to the Sunshine. He’s sure of that now.