Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 31: I Can't Do This Anymore

"I can't do this anymore," Justin said, looking away from his partner, small tears glistening in his eyes. "This constant worrying where you are and you coming home so late. You don't call me to let me know you're alright. You barely even speak to me anymore. I can't do it. If I did something wrong, tell me. If not then...I'm done."

Brian shook his head in complete disbelief. He couldn't believe they were at this point again—Justin, standing there with his bags packed. Fuck. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach when Justin turned away, but it was too late. Brian'd already seen the tears.

Shaking his head once more, Brian finally found his voice. "You haven't done anything." And that was the truth; every word of it. "What the fuck brought this on? What are you talking about?" He frowned, trying to gather his thoughts, all while trying to understand how he'd managed to make Justin feel like this.

Justin closed his eyes. "Just tell me the truth, Brian. Are you seeing someone else? Is that why you don't seem interested in me anymore?"

"What—" Are we seriously having this conversation? Brian sighed, reaching up to run a hand down his face. He looked at Justin pointedly, his tone flat as he spoke. "You seriously think I'm such a piece of shit that I would see someone else behind your back? That is totally fucked."

"It's not fucked up. You've been blowing me off for weeks."

"I haven't been blowing you off. I've been working."

"Really? You told me you were working two days ago, but when I talked to Emmett, he told me had saw you at Babylon and wondered why I didn't come with you."

Brian bowed his head. Shit. Fucking Emmett... "I didn't mean anything by it. I finished what I needed to at the office, and then I went to Babylon for a couple hours before I headed home. I just hung out with the guys; I didn't even go to the back room. Nothing happened." Come on, Kinney. Why the fuck are you defending yourself to him? Just tell him!

Justin turned around to him, his eyes full of hurt. "Then what's going on, Brian? Something has to be going on for you to be acting like this. Just tell me!"

Shit. Now he really was in a tight spot. He could see the sadness in Justin's eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to look at them. Brian shook his head, his voice quiet. "There's nothing going on," he said, despite every fiber of his being telling him to give the truth. "I'm not hiding anything."

Justin shook his head. "I can't do it. I thought we were partners, but obviously I don't mean enough to you for you to tell me the truth." He grabbed the bag he had packed and moved towards the door.

Brian's eyes followed Justin as he moved to the door, his stomach sinking at the sight of an overnight bag. Fuck. Here goes... "It was my annual screening," he began, averting his gaze. He stared at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck. "They found a mass... They're not sure what it is, but—" Brian cut himself off before he could say too much. He shook his head.

Justin turned around to look at Brian once more. "And you didn't tell me that? You've had fucking cancer before! You didn't think that was important?"

Brian sighed, letting his head fall back. "They don't know what it is," he said again, looking everywhere but at Justin. "I didn't want you to queen out and get upset. Hell, for all I know, it could be nothing."

"I care about you. Of course I would queen out over this. We're partners, aren't we?"

"We are," Brian stressed. He relaxed slightly when Justin dropped his bag. "But I didn't want you stressing about this shit again. It's only a matter of fucking time anyway..."