Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 32: Bruised {Part 5}

Brian heard the voice at the door and froze. He knew exactly who it was. And what was going on. He looked up from the bed and swallowed. No, no he couldn't be here. He couldn't hurt Justin. There was no time to act. No way he could speak without showing the trick where he was.

Justin took Brian's wallet. "You're the trick? You're the fucking asshole who raped Brian?"

"Raped? That's a fucking lie."

"You fucking mugged him."

"He gave his shit to me. He was fucking high. Who knew Brian Kinney would scream rape? I thought he was better than that."

"I'm sending your ass to the police. You'll be in jail by the end of the month."

"Who's going to fucking believe a slutty fag got raped outside of a gay bar? They'll probably figure he had it coming and give me community service or some shit." The trick bit his lip. "So you're his new piece of ass? You're fucking hot. A bit of advice, Brian Kinney's a nice bottom."

That tipped Justin over the edge and he hit the trick in the face. The dark haired boy grabbed his jaw and chuckled. He came at Justin hitting him harder than Justin had hit him.

Brian scrambled out of the bed, clutching his ribs slightly. He didn't need this. He didn't need Justin getting hurt. Grabbing the first thing he could, a knife from the island, he approached the trick. "You. Get the fuck out of here. Now. Don't touch him again." He was practically shaking, but the man was threatening to hurt the one person who had ever meant anything to him as a lover.

The trick smiled at Brian. "Don't be so dramatic. You know you loved it. Maybe one day soon, your little blonde twink can love it too."

He looked at Justin on the floor and winked at him before disappearing down the loft stairs.

Justin clutched his bleeding nose, sitting on the floor.

Brian's hand tightened on the knife. He wanted to go after the guy. To end it once and for all. But instead, he sank to the floor beside Justin. "We're getting the locks changed. And no one comes up after midnight." There was no way he was allowing anything to happen to Justin. Or to himself again.

With his free hand, Justin slowly took the knife away from Brian. "Fucking asshole. Don't worry about him. He's not going to hurt me or you. He wouldn't risk it."

Brian tried to take a breath, but couldn't. There was nothing. No air. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The world around him moved in flashes. Blindly, he reached out for Justin.

"Brian..." Justin used his free hand to wrap around the back of Brian's neck. "Brian, look at me. Take deep breaths. He's gone. You're ok."

Blinking quickly, Brian shook his head as his vision swirled. He remembered it. The way the trick had forced a kiss on him after he'd drugged him. The bottle. The pain. Everything.

Justin wrapped his arm around Brian holding him close. He had never seen him look so scared.

Brian clutched at Justin, his breath coming in a rush. God, no. No, this hadn't happened. It couldn't be happening.

Justin stroked Brian's hair. He could feel him shaking in his hold. "Sssshhh, it's alright...."

"I'm fine," he muttered, though he was anything but. At the very least, he had gotten his wallet back. But right now, he didn't even care.

"You'll be fine." Justin kissed his cheek. "He's not going to hurt you again. I promise."

"I said I'm fine," he snapped. His heart beat loudly in his ears. God, he wanted to vomit. He wanted to do something.