Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 16: Accident

Justin stared at the wall as his boyfriend wrapped an arm around him. His face still stung where that same hand that was now caressing him had hit him a few hours earlier. It was the first time it had happened in the middle of a heated argument and Justin didn't know how to feel.

"Are you sure it was an accident? That you won't do it again?" Justin whispered to the other.

"I'm sure," Brian answered quietly. "I don't know what I was thinking." He pressed his lips gently to Justin's cheek. "Christ, I'm so fucking sorry, Sunshine..."

Justin's body tensed at Brian's touch for the first time. He didn't know whether to believe Brian or not. He had never lashed out at Justin like that.

"You hit me," Justin whispered more to himself than to Brian, "You never hit me before."

"I know," Brian answered weakly, pain evident in his voice. He brushed another kiss across Justin's cheek, hoping to convey how fucking sorry he really was. "I know."

"Why?" He needed to know. Why this time? They had gotten into plenty arguments before. Why was it this time that Brian had felt the need to raise a hand to Justin's face?

Brian shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut. "I don't know," he whispered sadly. Jack Kinney finally showing himself, he thought to himself. Brian immediately shook the thought, unable to accept that as the answer. "I don't know, but I'm so fucking sorry." His voice broke, but he didn't care.

He continued to press kisses to Justin's cheek, pulling him close with his arms. He held onto him tightly, like he was about to disappear. "Does it hurt?" he found himself asking, pulling away only slightly so as to look at Justin's face.

Justin looked up at Brian. He looked so hurt. He had never seen his eyes hold so much pleading. It made him just want to kiss Brian and forget this ever happened. But he couldn't forget.

"It stings a little," he said in a small voice.

Pulling his lips into his mouth, Brian stared into Justin's eyes. He knew he couldn't take it back, he couldn't take back what he did, or said. Hell, as hard as he might try, Brian didn't even remember what the fight was about. That had all gone to shit as soon as he'd heard the slap–

"Sunshine..." he said quietly, leaning back just enough to run his fingers down the side of Justin's face. "I know I can't take it back. I know that." He looked at Justin pleadingly. "But you do know I'm never going to do it again, right?"

Justin closed his eyes at Brian's touch. He wished he could believe him. He wished he could. But he had believed he would never hit him, and he had been wrong about that.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

I don't know. He had never been more hurt by those words. Without saying another word, Brian pulled away. He knew it wasn't the best thing to do right now, but he honestly didn't know what else he could do. He'd hurt Justin, the one person he cared about most, and for that, he would never forgive himself.

Justin felt the familiar twinge in his chest. The twinge that wanted to wrap his arms around Brian and tell him none of this was his fault. But this new fear he had for Brian stopped him from moving.

Making his way down the steps into the living room, Brian made his way into the kitchen, snatching the bottle of Beam off the counter. He walked slowly over to the couch, throwing himself down. He unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to his lips, but before he could take a drink, the self-deprecating thoughts were back: You've finally done it, you piece of shit, his thoughts taunted him. You hurt him. And you're going to keep on hurting him. Congratulations, you've finally become the perfect copy of the Great Jack Kinney. He would be so prou—