Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 3: Sickness

Work had been hell. Then again, most days were hell when Brian was at the office all day–one of the perks of running his own company. Brian took great pride in his work, always had, but he nevertheless found himself basking in the sight of the loft door as the elevator came to a stop on his floor.

If he had to be honest with himself, Brian had felt like shit ever since that trick claiming to be a doctor stopped him from leaving the backroom of Babylon. A lump on his left testicle. Fuck. He never thought he'd be on the receiving end of a medical exam disguised as a blowjob–at Babylon, of all places. Brian had made an appointment, though, just to be on the safe side. But he wasn't about to tell anyone about it. The last thing Brian needed was a bunch of weeping, worried faggots surrounding him, scared for him. That was, of course, if there was anything to worry about.

Sliding the metal door open, Brian was immediately met with the sight of Justin's things on the counter. "Sunshine?" he called out, a smile on his face. His hand lifted to loosen his tie as he turned toward the desk. Fuck. His face fell as he took in the sight of Justin, a piece of paper in his hand. Brian knew that page well, the words etched into it in his handwriting. He'd written it down so as not to forget–the date and time of his appointment. Fuck.

Justin had been at the apartment waiting for Brian to get home. In the meantime, he had been working on a drawing he had been trying to finish for a few weeks. On his way back from the bathroom, he had spotted a piece of paper on the table. It was in Brian's handwriting.

Oncologist appointment? It had the date and the time. Why would Brian need to go to the oncologist? And why didn't he tell Justin?

Justin heard the door to the loft open. He turned his gaze from the paper to Brian. "Why do you have an oncology appointment?"

Shit. Shit! Brian stood there, frozen, eyes going from the note to Justin's face. Fuck! This had been why he'd wanted to keep his appointment a secret. He didn't want to have to answer all of these questions. He didn't want anyone's pity. And Brian knew that if Justin knew the truth, that's exactly what he'd get. "It's nothing," he said, shrugging it off as he turned his back to the younger man, shedding his jacket. He knew Justin wouldn't be so easily convinced, but Brian would give it his best effort.

"Don't tell me that bullshit." Justin walked over to Brian, the paper still in his hands. "No one goes to an oncologist for nothing. What's going on, Brian?"

"I just told you, it's nothing," he said sternly, as if he were trying to convince himself. Yeah, he knew that was coming. Justin always was a persistent little shit. He leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. Brian knew he was going to have to tell him, but he didn't quite know how to word it.

He still couldn't bring himself to look at Justin's face, and he didn't particularly want to see it when he told him what was going on. Taking a deep breath, Brian finally spoke in a quiet voice. "I'm just getting something checked out," he explained in the most vague way possible. "Don't worry your pretty blond head about it."

"What are you getting checked out?" Justin knew Brian too well. He wasn't going to get a straight answer until he beat it out of him.

Brian rolled his eyes inwardly, slightly annoyed at Justin's pushiness. But Brian also knew there was no fighting it. He'd have to tell him at some point. It was better than Justin knew now, heard it from him before anyone else. Brian knew if Justin found out from someone else, he'd have his balls. Nice, Kinney. If you're even lucky to still have them after all this is over...

"I, uh..." Brian trailed off. He hated that—not knowing how to explain. It wasn't very often that Brian Kinney was at a loss of words. He ran a hand through his hair before looking at Justin. He couldn't hold the gaze for very long, though, and soon found himself looking away, staring at the wall. "I found a lump on my..." he trailed off again. Christ, I hate this! He shook his head slowly, squaring his shoulders. Brian turned, making his way around the counter to grab himself a beer from the refrigerator. He figured he'd spare Justin the gory details—a guy sucking him off in the backroom of Babylon, a business card that he'd shoved into his wallet as soon as he left the club with the name and number of a doctor's office... "Anyway, I just figured I'd have it checked out. I'm sure it's nothing." Wishful thinking, Kinney.