Ten…
Title: Ten…
Story Type: AU
Word Count: 2559
Rating: NC17
Beta Queen: BigJ52
Story Summary: How much life can change in Ten Minutes, Ten Hours, Ten Days, and Ten Years…
Story Sub-plot: Countdown to the Best Christmas Ever…
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are property of their respective owners, including, but not limited to Russell T. Davies, Cowlip, and Showtime. The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended…
Chapter Summary: Justin is surprised by Brian’s effort to please him…
Ten...
Part 3 - Ten Minutes and Counting…
Brian’s POV
“Justin, please open the door. You know Dr. Fleming said you can go home this afternoon.”
“Why? Did you blow him?”
“No, of course not. I told him you would. Now open the door.”
“Brian… I want my bandages back.”
“What? Why? Unlock the door.”
“It’s not locked.”
“Oh… So what’s the problem, princess?”
“I can’t go outside looking like this.”
“I think you look beautiful.”
“You’re delusional. I look like I just had a lobotomy.”
Of course he looks stupid, like a little kid that shaved the top of his head. Like a reverse Mohawk.
I just smile and he tells me to fuck off, then I suggest that maybe he should just shave his head again. Now he looks like he’s going to cry.
“No. Last time I did, you stopped being sexually attracted to me.”
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? That is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said. I have never stopped being attracted to you. I’m thinking Dr. Fleming needs to examine you again.”
He’s still pouting. “Okay. How about we both shave our heads?” At least he’s smiling.
“You’d do that? You’d shave your head just for me?”
I’m thinking to myself, ‘Oh God, I really don’t want to shave my head’. I smile and say, “Absolutely, Sunshine. Where’s the razor?”
He’s just looking at me with tears in his eyes again. I reach over and pull him into me, resting his head on my shoulder. I say; “You know I’d do anything for you don’t you?”
We hear someone come into the room and call for us. “Look, Sunshine, it’s our very own fag hag.”
Daphne smiles and holds up a bag in each hand. I had asked her to bring an electric razor knowing that this little drama was soon to play out. What I didn’t expect was the other bag.
Daphne smiles and says, “Would you like what’s behind Door Number One or Door Number Two?”
She holds up both bags. One’s very heavy and I already know what it holds, while the other is so lightweight it almost looks empty.
He’s no longer smiling; he knows what’s in one, maybe both bags.
He snarks, “Well, what is it? A pink wig?”
Daphne squeals and says, “No, but I love the idea.”
She throws the lightweight bag at Justin.
He’s still pouting as he slowly takes the old red baseball cap out of the bag. Tears again…
Daphne tells me it’s from his softball uniform from junior high, and then I notice that she has sewn golden locks of Justin’s hair under the brim, in the front and the back.
She explains that this way he can wear the hat backwards or forwards, depending upon his moods. And after a while, when his hair grows out he can cut his hair shorter and shaggy.
I frown slightly and say, “Not so much shaggy.”
But I love the hat. I’m so glad she thought of it. I know how much he doesn’t want to cut his hair. He’s smiling again and all’s well on the home front. We should be out of here in ten minutes.
I pull up out front of the hospital and get out to help him in and load up the few things we still had in his room. He’s looking at me with a questioning look in his eyes, and says, “Where’s the Vette?”
Now Daphne’s looking at me with a questioning look as well.
Here’s the thing. He only woke up three days ago but he is completely in control of his limbs. His hand and eye coordination was perfect, and he really wanted to come home for Christmas. So I put off some of the more graphic details of the accident.
I simply said that he was hit by a drunk driver. I never told him he was in the Vette. His car was in the shop; he bought some piece of shit old panel van that is always in the shop. I hate that thing but his paintings fit in it and he can haul paint and chemicals in it which is why I’m still letting him keep it. But only for hauling his precious treasures. My precious treasure will be driving a brand-new jeep and traveling in style.
They’re both still staring at me. I smile and say, “It went for a swim. So how do you like my new jeep?”
It’s black and shiny and of course, very nostalgic…
He’s stuttering as I reach him; he can hardly say it. “I, I, I was driving… I was driving the Vette… Oh my God, Oh my God…”
“No, no, no it’s okay. No more tears, Sunshine… After all it is Christmas Eve, Eve Day…”
God, I can’t believe he has me saying that. Ever since he woke up he’s wanted to go home, and Dr. Fleming said he had to stay a minimum of three days. So he’s been making me promise that he can go home on Christmas Eve, Eve Day…
I know how much he loves Christmas and of course, I never liked Christmas much. Before him… But it’s been growing on me over the years, just like my little twink, although I’ll never tell him.
He really wanted to get married on Christmas Eve, but then he decided on the 10th of December because, well, because he’s spoiled and wants to celebrate as much as possible throughout the month. (Anniversaries, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day, and let’s not forget Valentine’s Day…) He actually starts planning his parties in October I think, or maybe he just has Emmett on retainer.
But I usually play the Grinch, because it’s expected of me. So as we step off the elevator and open the loft door he’s mesmerized by the ten-foot silver-tipped blue spruce that sitting in front of the windows. His jaw is actually hanging open.
I’ve let him put lights on the mirrors, and some candles out before but I always put my foot down when it came to a tree - all the loose needles, and tinsel trailing everywhere. Way too messy.
Justin’s POV
I’m standing in front of this huge Christmas tree in the loft. The loft. Oh my God, it’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen. It smells so good. I’m almost feeling giddy. I can’t believe that he got us a Christmas tree. This is so out of character for him. My husband, the Grumpy Grinch. I wonder if he hit his head as well.
He comes up behind me and whispers in my ear, “Well I thought we’d avoid all the whining and tears about a tree this year,” as he puts his tongue firmly in his cheek and smiles at me. I just backhand him across the chest and lean into him. It’s snowing outside and the weather forecast calls for ten inches.
I don’t know exactly what’s going on with me, but ever since I woke up from my big sleep as Brian refers to it, it’s like all my senses are on overload. Colors seem brighter, smells seem stronger, sounds seem louder, and my emotions… oh my God, it’s like I start crying on cue. And my love… I feel such an intense deep emotional connection with him, almost like there’s electricity flowing between us. I wonder if he feels it too.
What I’m trying to say is that everything is so much more… I don’t know… Real… Like the world’s just come into focus much clearer. Like I’ve been living in a fog, only I didn’t even know it.
Every little thing brings forth all kinds of emotions and memories. Yes, that’s it. It’s all these tiny little details that make absolutely no difference to anyone but me. It’s all those little details that inspire my art, and trigger something deep inside of me.
It’s like ten years of grim has finally been wiped from my windows and I can finally see everything clearly. I feel happy and content. Maybe all that crazy restlessness I kept going through was just my memories trying to break through.
Because I do remember. I remember the look in his eyes as he spun me around that dance floor. And I remember the feel of that silk scarf running across my skin, and around my neck. Just thinking about it I can feel those sensations, and the little hairs on my neck stand up like they’re clapping that I finally remembered.
He’s looking at me funny and I realize that I have tears running down my face again; he reaches out and wipes them away. He smiles and says, “Is it just PMS or did you really have a sex-change operation while you were in the hospital?” I chuckle and backhand him again. I know I should tell him, but I’m already too emotional about every little thing. I’ll wait until I can talk about what I want for lunch without crying first.
Daphne says she has to go out and pick up a few things for dinner and she’ll be back. She’s always been such a good friend to me. I’m so lucky to have her as my best friend. I’m wondering why I haven’t heard from anyone else today. Usually you would have to beat my Mom and Deb back with a stick. I wonder what’s going on.
He’s still standing behind me with his arms around me. He starts walking me towards the bathroom as he says, “Let’s wash all those hospital smells off you, my dirty little boy.”
God, I love it when he calls me that. I’ve really missed his touch. It’s been like two weeks. Not that he hasn’t touched me these last couple of days, but after Nurse Ratched caught us the other day, we’ve been on the down low.
~~~~
Daphne’s POV
God, he looks so happy. It’s like he’s glowing. I can even feel the electricity flowing between them. Something’s changed in a good way, but I’m just not sure what. Dr. Fleming told us all that he would probably experience some mood swings, but that it would get better with time.
He’s hasn’t been functioning on all his senses for a long time. This second injury has reconnected some of his nerve endings, and electrical signals have been redirecting some of his sensory input. We should expect some changes in his perception, and he’ll be a little more emotional while learning to live with his new-found senses.
I slide into the booth at the diner next to Em, and he says, “Buzz cut or cap?”
“Cap.”
“Good choice, I know how much Brian loves his hair a little long. But he’ll never admit it.”
“Speaking of never admitting it. You won’t believe what I just saw at the loft.”
“Let’s see? A ten-foot tall silver-tipped blue spruce tree?”
Daphne’s jaw just drops and she says; “You made that happen?”
Emmett just starts clapping his hands and says, “I’m dating a lumberjack. A great big bear of a jack. I’m taking a walk on the wild side. Oh my God, he’s so big and burly. Who knew? And I just love being manhandled.”
“Yeah. that’s a big surprise,” Ted says as he sits down with his clipboard in hand.
“Okay, we only have about ten million things we need to get done in the next ten minutes.”
“Now, where’s the seven dwarfs? Let’s go over the list.”
“Ah. Ted, there are eight of us.”
“Yes, I know but we couldn’t leave Snow White out. After all he is leader of the pack.”
“Now…”
“Emmett. You do your thing with cheese puffs and crab dip.”
“I’ll have you know that I have an elegant dinner planned for this evening, although I do have cheese puffs and crab dip as well.”
“Deb, you’re Em’s right-hand man. Keep him in line and on track. I also have you listed to set up the tables, chairs and china.”
“Michael, you’re our bartender tonight. Here’s a copy of the order from Liberty Party Store. Just make sure they deliver all the right bottles of wine with the correct vintage. Brian was very specific as to what he wanted, and try and be surprised if you end up with one of them as your Christmas present. He’s really trying this year.”
“Ben, you’re in charge of lights. Now Emmett ordered about ten thousand tiny white and blue lights, and a very tall ladder. Good luck, and yes, he’s fully insured. I checked the policy yesterday for personal injury and accidental death.”
“Ted, that’s just morbid.”
“Yes, but our little group doesn’t have the best track record.”
“Hunter, you’re to help Deb set up the tables and chairs as well, and maintain consumption control.”
“What the fuck is consumption control? Oh, oh, no fucking way. I’m not on trash patrol.”
“Hunter, please. It’s going to be mostly wrapping paper, bows, and dirty napkins. Of course you’ll need to clear away any dirty dishes or empty glasses, wipe up any spills, etc… You know, just like the diner.”
“Fine… Do I get tips?”
“Molly, kid patrol. You are to make sure that you know where they are at all times, and make sure nothing gets broken… No one’s crying or fighting… And no sticky messes. I’m not dealing with cranky Kinney… OK?”
“I just have one question. I’m only responsible for Gus and JR, right? The rest of you are all on your own?”
“Smart Ass.”
“Mel, Lindsay, I have you both on decorations, and gift wrapping. Cynthia started wrapping all of Justin’s presents but she ran out of time. It seems that Mr. Kinney has made up for the last ten years’ worth of ungiven gifts.”
Mel is in shock, and Lindsay is just smiling, happy that Brian is finally giving Justin what he really wants.
“Okay, so here’s the thing. I put all the wrapped presents in the loft early this morning. Then I put the rest in the new jeep and parked it in Brian’s private garage at Kinnetik, so you girls need to go pick up the jeep, wrap the presents and drive it to the loft.”
“Isn’t Brian picking Justin up in his new jeep?”
“Yes, he is, but this is Justin’s new jeep.”
Now everyone’s jaws have hit the ground.
“Okay, now let’s set our watches to eighteen hundred hours.”
Emmett mumbles, “What time is that? I don’t have a watch.”
“It doesn’t matter, Em.”
“Wait, wait. I don’t have any marching orders,” says Daphne.
“Daph… You’re our resident fag hag. You just have to hang out, make sure the music is playing, and fun is being had by all. Oh and of course, create a few distractions along the way as needed.”
“Now, I’d like to get this all set up by 3:30 or 4:00. Jen, Tucker, Carl, Blake, and is it actually Jack?”
Ted’s looking at Em. “Hum, oh yeah. Jackson, actually.”
“Great, and Jackson should be off work and at the loft between four and five. We’ll start with decorating the tree while having cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, followed by Emmett’s formal dinner, then opening of presents with pie and coffee. Then we leave the newlyweds alone… Well into the next year.”
“Okay, troops, let’s roll.”
TBC…
