Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 1: Hate Crimes

Justin was coming back late to the loft. He had spent the whole day with his mother and his sister. It would be nice to finally just be at home with Brian, maybe fuck a little, and then go to sleep. He pulled his keys out of his pocket. He was about to put the key in the door when he heard screaming coming from a car rounding the corner. There were a few guys in it, one hanging out of the window.

"Fucking faggot!" he yelled at Justin, "Go straight to hell."

Justin heard a gunshot then felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The car sped away. Justin grabbed his stomach. He could feel his blood running through his fingers. He collapsed to the ground.

Brian stood at the window, smoking a cigarette, the smoke curling around his hand as he brought it to his lips to take a drag. He'd been scrolling through the messages in his phone, eyeing the one from Justin. He snapped the phone shut, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. What's the use of having rules if you're going to break them and be late all the time? he asked himself.

Through the open window, he could just make out the sound of a couple of homophobes shouting at someone. Brian leaned out the window, shaking his head as he stubbed out his cigarette. That was nothing new. Fag-haters patrolling the streets, itching for their next victim. The whole idea had Brian rolling his eyes. It was only until he heard the sound of a gunshot, and his stomach flipped.

"What the fuck?" he asked aloud, making his way to the loft door. As he descended the stairs quickly, Brian's heart began to sink. Christ, I hope those idiots didn't really shoot somebody. By the time Brian reached the front door, Brian already knew his worst fear had been realized.

"Justin!" he nearly screamed, wrenching the heavy door open. He immediately knelt next to the younger man, his stomach twisting at the sight of blood. No no no! Not again!

Justin was still conscious. The blood rushing into his stomach was running towards his mouth. Blood dripped from the sides on his lips and stained his teeth. He heard someone call out his name. It could only be Brian since he had been outside of the loft. The hand clutching his wound was completely stained red.

"Hey," Brian said, his voice shaking. "Hey, hey, don't talk, Sunshine." He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing his hands to stop shaking. He moved Justin's hand away from the wound, pressing his hand to Justin's stomach and applying pressure. "J-just hold on, okay? Just hold on."

With his free hand, Brian reached into his pocket for his cell. Thank God I didn't leave it inside! He flipped it open, dialing 911 with shaking fingers. His voice cracked as he spoke to the operator. "My partner's been shot. He's bleeding heavily from the stomach." He listened to the operator give him some bullshit about staying calm. Finally, he was asked about his location. He gave the directions quickly, his head swimming. When he finally snapped his phone shut, all attention was on Justin. "They're on their way, okay, Sunshine? Just hold on."

Justin tried to breath passed the blood that was choking him. His vision was blurring more and more, but he tried to focus on Brian's voice. He kept his grip on Brian's shirt, but it was starting to get looser as he got weaker. His head was light and his eyes were heavy. All he wanted to do was close them. Maybe if he did, the pain would stop.

Brian could see the weakness in Justin's eyes and it scared the shit out of him. "Justin! Justin, look at me, okay? Just keep your eyes on me." He could hear the sirens now and he couldn't have felt more thankful than at that moment. "We're going to get you some help, okay, Sunshine? You're going to be fine." Please, not him.

When the ambulance arrived, Brian sat back on the steps, letting the EMTs do their work. It was at that moment that Brian wished he could understand medical talk. He watched the paramedics load Justin onto a stretcher, a sickening feeling of déjà vu flowing through him. He ran his hands through his hair, breath uneven. Brian couldn't tear his eyes away from Justin's face as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance, only breaking out of his reverie when he heard one of the EMTs ask him a question.