CHAPTER 81: THE MORNING AFTER PILL

JUSTIN:

The unfamiliar- yet long remembered- feel of cashmere beneath my cheek woke me up. It had been a couple of years to the day since Brian had worn anything to bed. Even on the nights when the loft had lost power, or the furnace had acted up, Brian just chose to snuggle deeper under the heavy blanket while using me as a top sheet. In fact, the only time in recent years that Brian had covered the top half of his body while in bed was… Oh no!

“Brian…” I whisper against his skin, even as the fingers running through my hair abruptly cease all movement.

“Good. You’re awake. I’ve gotta take a piss,” Brian responds gruffly.

“Brian? What…”

“Come on, Sunshine. We have to get moving. Jinx called a little while ago, and our flight leaves soon.”

“Brian, what happened?” I ask hurriedly before he interrupts again.

“Nothing.”

“Stop…” I whisper before saying more forcefully. “Stop lying to me. Stop evading, and just answer the fucking question!”

“I don’t want to talk about this now, Justin. We have a flight to catch,” he says as he turns his back to me to rummage through his closet.

“Brian…”

“WHAT, JUSTIN? WHAT? What do you want me to say, huh?!”

“The fucking truth! What the fuck happened last night?!”

He laughed bitterly at me. “You really don’t want to know the answer to that question, Sunshine. Besides, it doesn’t matter as much as getting the fuck out of this place does. So now, I’m going to take a shower.”

He goes into the bathroom, and as I try to follow, he closes and locks the door. That has NEVER fucking happened. Usually if anyone closes and locks doors around here it’s me. But Brian? No. Since he generally hates closed rooms of any kind, hence the open layout of the loft. 

I try to jog my memory from last night, but the only thing I can remember clearly is the argument Brian and I had, once again, over fucking Michael. I swear, even in jail he still manages to cause all types of dissension between us; I’m so tired of it! It’s like Michael has his hooks so deep into Brian that even when faced with the truth of how vicious the little cunt is, Brian just has to defend him. I’m not sure if it’s solely the conditioning at Deb’s hands, or Brian’s wounded pride in realizing that he simply traded one form of abuse for another. All I know is that I can’t keep fighting for us when it seems that Brian will only do so selectively. 

As I continue to think of the currently missing pieces of my mental puzzle I have flashes of colored strobe lights, and hot bodies. A pulsing is thrumming through me, seemingly for no reason at all. But somehow it’s dulling the pain that I feel, once again, at the mere thought of the Brian and Mikey Show. The pain of not knowing, and the despair of not getting the answers to my questions feel as if they are beginning to choke me. So I do the only thing I can at this point.

Reaching up, and running my fingers along the ledge of the bathroom entryway, I pushed the gold plated object Brian had placed there long ago until it reaches the edge. I stop and debate for a moment if I really want to invade Brian’s solitude right now. Would he- could he- be any more angry than it already appears he is at me? I know that privacy has always been a big issue for Brian, and has often warred against my inherent need to know and prepare for every eventuality. After all, I’m not a huge fan of surprises and even less so since the prom.

But then I think about the fact that I woke up with something beneath my cheek which was not Brian’s skin, and I know it’s because of me. I have to… to see what I did to him this time. I know why he doesn’t want to discuss it with me, or to have me formally acknowledge whatever it is, since the last time I hurt him, it sent me into a blinding, binging rage. Anything I could’ve and would’ve done to punish myself is what I did for hurting him. I gasp with the sudden realization.

Without any more thought or hesitation, I insert the end of the pin inside the hole, which had always seemed just that little bit too small for the sharp object to fit into. But it did, and with the slightest bit of jiggling, I should have the door opened in a few seconds. I can’t help but remember the reason we even have it in the first place. It was because of my own penchant for locking myself into the bathroom to hide from my nightmares when Brian wasn’t home; to… No, I won’t think about what else happened during those lost weeks just after I came to live here while recovering from the bashing.

Not giving Brian a chance to shut me out again, or hide from me, I slam open the bathroom door. I don’t give a fuck about anything except seeing the damage I’ve done to the one person I care about more than anything in this world. Seeing the bruises and scratch marks down his back; the gouging my fingernails imprinted in red marking his normally-smooth skin of his ass, I have to close my eyes in horror. But it’s when he turns to face me that I feel like vomiting. The bite marks, coupled with a pair of wounded hazel eyes…

“I…”

“Don’t, Sunshine,” he tells me softly. “Don’t do this, Justin.”

“I am…”

“No, you’re not. Reactionary? Yes. But a monster? No. Don’t, Justin. Please, Sunshine, just don’t…”

“Don’t what, Brian?!” I yell at him. “Admit that I’m as abusive as…”

“Don’t you DARE say that! Do NOT compare yourself to them… TO ANY OF THEM! You’re nothing like them.” He moves to step closer to me, but I stop him.

“Don’t…”

“Sunshine.”

“Don’t… Please, Brian.”

He places his hands back at his side, nodding just that little bit in acknowledgement of what I’ve asked. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Liar,” I say, equally soft. “All I do is hurt you.”

“That’s not true, and we both know it. This… this was reactionary, Justin. It’s how I look at it; how I’ve always looked at it.”

“But…”

“No buts, Sunshine. Now, we have a plane to catch. But remember your promise to me… please?”

I gesture towards his battered and bruised body. “I’ve already broken it.”

He shakes his head in denial, and blatantly ignores my protest not to touch me then. Running his hands gently up my arms, until he’s able to grip my shoulders in a tight hold, he shakes me gently.  I can’t help but to close my eyes in shame. I don’t want him to see the thoughts of self-harm running through my mind. But he knew they were there anyway. “I know you don’t want to look at me, but remember your promise to me, Justin. I shouldn’t have left you alone last night, so I’m just as responsible for this as you are.”

“No, you’re not! You didn’t touch me in anger, Brian. You never…”

“Yes, I have in case you’ve forgotten. One of the most passionate encounters we’ve ever had within the loft was based on anger. But last night was about so much more than that, and we both know it. I’m a master of guilt, anger, and self-flagellation; you think I don’t know a combination of all three? You think I don’t know you?!” He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “You can’t beat yourself up about this, Justin. It happened, and now we deal with it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” he shrugs. “We were both assholes. Wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last, but… no more castigating yourself for a situation we both had a hand in causing. Remember your promise, Justin.”

I nod, still unable to look at him. I wish beyond anything right now that I could take back my oath from the night he found me passed out on the bathroom floor, just shy of an overdose. It was a particularly hard day, and my doctor appointment earlier in the day hadn’t gone so well. I’d convinced Mom that I was fine enough to stay at the loft on my own, when in reality I was anything but. I don’t remember the exact time I started drinking; only that I couldn’t afford to go to sleep and couldn’t curb the restless feeling crawling beneath my skin either. 

The more time I sat there, thinking and drinking, the angrier I became. I decided that I needed to get out of the loft, so I went to Babylon and sought out Anita. At first, she wouldn’t sell anything to me, but eventually she did. And I kept going back between picking up tricks for me to top. Everyone knew that I only bottomed for Brian, but there were still a few idiots who just had to try anyway. 

So between fucking and fighting, I kept getting high and drinking. I couldn’t stop… and I just wanted to stop. So I left there, and returned to the loft. I don’t remember walking in the door, but I knew I was alone and would be for the rest of the night. It was the perfect time for me to… 

So, I dug into the toy box, and lifted the faux bottom where I knew Brian kept all of his stash. The last thing I actually registered before Brian appeared before me, seemingly out of thin air, was that I was about to take another hit of coke. The second half of his business trip was cancelled, and he’d come home. After he worked all night to sober me up, including allowing me to basically beat him up during the roughest sex imaginable, we vowed never to speak about it to anyone, unless it was each other. But more importantly, he made me promise not to go so far again. 

And I went back on my word… again.

“Justin, this…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Brian. I gave you my word, although right now I wish I hadn’t. Let’s just get dressed and catch our flight out of here.”

“We need to see Gus and Mel before we leave.”

I close my eyes at the mention of Gus. He and Mel will be coming out later in the week, but… “You go on, Brian, and kiss them both for me. I’ll- uh- meet you at the airport.”

“And just why are you meeting me at the airport instead of coming with me?”

I couldn’t tell him that I can’t trust myself to be within reaching distance right now; can’t tell him all my other true thoughts, even if I know he knows them anyway. So I opt for the safest route. “I need to stop by the office for a few minutes and then buy some more art supplies from DecoTrip’s.”

“DecoTrip’s? Why all the way across town today of all days?”

“Because they just got a new shipment of pencil paint and I need it. They are the only store in Pittsburgh stocking them right now.”

“What’s so special about those things anyway?”

“You dip the tip of them in water and they emit as if you used paint instead. I want to use them on the boards for both Google and Applique Art. It should give them a better idea of what the art will look like in both arenas.”

“Shit! I almost forgot about the presentations,” he says, and I’m glad that I was able to redirect him from what I know he was thinking of doing. I don’t need a watchdog- not in the form of Brian, or anyone else!

“So see? We both have last minute preparations to deal with. What time does the flight leave?”

‘Noon, but hey, Justin…”

“Good. I’ll be there. So let’s get this show on the road.”

At the implacable note in my voice, I know Brian understands that I need the subject to be closed for the interim. Truthfully, I don’t know if I will ever be able to give voice to what I’m thinking right now. The thoughts are dark and violent; virulent and full of venom towards myself. But they’re also extending outward, and I don’t want Brian infected by them. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m powerless to fix this, or to erase what happened last night, but I don’t want him near me until I get this rage back under control again.

The morning after pill is always the hardest to swallow, regardless of its form or reason. And the reason this time is that for the first time in a long time, I no longer trust myself.