exmptfromsanity (exmptfromsanity) wrote in qaf_drabbles, @ 2008-02-22 00:11:00 |
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Michael opened his bedroom window because he was young enough to believe his mother wouldn’t be able to smell the marijuana. Lifting the joint to his lips he inhaled and started coughing.
“You are pathetic,” Brian laughed, coming in with a plate piled high with food.
“Shut up,” Michael said, passing off the joint to Brian and reaching for a slice of pizza.
Brian took a long drag and laid back on Michael’s bed. “You think I can stay here tonight?”
“Do I ever say no?”
“It’s not you I have to ask.”
The front door banged closed, “Boys!?”
“Shit.”
Justin needed a break, and Michael wanted to see for himself that this wasn’t killing Brian. Last time he’d been thrown out.
Brian was curled up on his bed,
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m surviving.” Brian motioned for Michael to sit.
Michael looked at him. This was so far from the Saturdays when they were kids, sneaking joints in his room. “Are you scared?”
“No,” Brian’s voice was firm as he sat up. His face paled and he gripped the edge of the bed tightly.
“Brian?” Michael tensed
Brian let out a choked breath and amended himself, “Shitless.”
It was Sunday.
The warden was probably at church praying. If only she could see him now, probably as sick as Jack had been.
But I’m not dying you selfish, old prick. You are.
Here he was, just two years later, possibly approaching the same fate. Just another way he was like his father.
And absolutely fucking terrified.
Justin sighed next to him. Brian had been up and puking until three last night, and Justin even later than that waiting for him to fall asleep.
He reached out and ran his hand through Justin’s hair willing him to stay asleep.