Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 32: Bruised {Part 7}

Debbie left after a while when it was clear Justin and Brian needed to be alone. Justin took the joint from Brian and started to smoke it. "That's enough for you. You don't want to overdo it with your medication."

"I'm not going to overdo it. Just give me back the joint like a good little bottom," he said. He wasn't going to get angry. At least, not immediately. But he was going to get the joint back.

"I'm your bottom. Not your fucking slave." Justin held the joint between his teeth and started to put the left over tuna casserole away.

"Give me the fucking joint, Justin," Brian growled. He wasn't nearly mellow enough for this. He needed more. More time, more smoke. More everything.

"Brian, you're not supposed to mix weed and all the medicine your taking for the pain. It's dangerous." He kept the joint and put the casserole in the fridge.

"This is the medicine I'm taking for the pain. Now give it the fuck back." He stood up and walked over to Justin, placing his hand on the fridge door.

"No, Brian." Justin stared Brian down. He took the joint out of his mouth and put it out on the counter. Brian couldn't keep numbing his mental pain. Debbie was right. It would consume him until he cracked.

"Fuck you, Justin," Brian growled. He had needed the rest of that to calm his shaking fingers and help him relax. It was the only way he would. "Are you fucking happy now?"

"No, I'm not fucking happy. You're a nervous wreck and I'm trying to figure out a way to help you."

"Give me a joint and I'll be fine," he said, holding out his hand. That was all he wanted. Just a chance to calm down and relax.

Justin ignored him. He was doing it for Brian's own good. Weed and pain medication didn't mix. Brian was going to make himself sick or worse, OD on all the drugs.

"Oh fuck you," he snarled. Walking back into the bedroom, he grabbed another joint from the nightstand and lit up. Justin couldn't take them all. And it was just one.

Justin walked into the bedroom. "You shouldn't be smoking weed. What if you OD?"

"Fun fact, Sunshine. It takes fifteen hundred pounds in fifteen minutes to OD on weed," he said, taking a puff.

"I don't mean just on weed. I mean ODing on all the pain meds your taking plus the marjauna you keep smoking."

"Justin oh my god will you please shut up, for the love of Christ?" he groaned. "I'm not going to overdose. Just relax. I don't even want to kill myself." Anymore.

Justin turned and walked out of the bedroom. He was worried. He was angry. He was upset. All of the emotions were starting to make his chest hurt. He walked over to the couch and laid down on it.

Brian took a deep drag, feeling his muscles start to relax. This was what he needed. Just a bit of a breather. Something to make him feel better about his situation.

Justin closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. He needed to calm down before he lost his mind.

Rolling his eyes, Brian stood up and walked over to the couch. He took the joint between his teeth, the other way around, and leaned in to give Justin a kiss. Maybe a shotgun would remind Justin how good it was.

Justin inhaled the smoke feeling the relaxing sensation start to come to him. He looked up at Brian. "Your cute little tricks won't make me any less upset with you."

Taking the joint out of his mouth, he looked down at Justin. "No, but they will help you relax a bit. Which you clearly need." They both did.

"Relaxing for a few hours isn't going to take our problems away."

"Yeah, well neither is being an uptight bitch about everything. And personally? I'd take the relaxation."

"Thanks for calling me a bitch." Justin moved Brian off of him and got up off the couch.

"You're seriously going to call me out on that? How many times since we started fucking have I called you a bitch? And not once did you get pissed about it."

"This time you're basically calling me a bitch because I care about you. Because I'm worried about you. Sorry if that makes me uptight and paranoid."

"Take another puff. You need it," Brian said. "You're getting worked up over nothing. It's a joint. People mix them with meds all the time. look at Vic."

"Yeah, look at Vic. He's fucking dead." Justin rubbed his temples.

"Vic's dead because of AIDS. Not because he puffed and passed while taking his medication."

"Well, it didn't help."

"Did it? It at least made a dying man comfortable."

"You're really joking about this?"

"Someone has to! It might as well be me. Look, you're being ridiculous. Pot didn't kill Vic. He was dying long before that."

"I know." Justin let out a deep breath. "I just don't want to take chances, alright? I'm already worried out of my mind."

"I know you are. I know. But I need something to help and trust me, this is a lot better than therapy." But that wasn't quite it. This was the only thing keeping him sane.

"Fine, Brian. Whatever helps."

"You help," Brian said, and for the first time, there was no pretense. "When you aren't in a mood. You help."

Justin smiled a little. "I'm not in a mood. I'm just frustrated."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "You're in a mood. You need weed more than I do. Remember the first time I got you to try it?"

"Yeah. I was scared out of my mind, but I still did it. Because I didn't want you think I was a pussy." Justin chuckled at the memory.

"You didn't even smoke when I met you. You were like some fucking PSA about drugs. That morning after? That definitely wasn't E and you just kept talking about how I shouldn't have done it."

"Well, I didn't exactly know any better when you first met me. I was a blonde private school fag. All I knew was assembles about drug abuse and Daphne sneaking cigarettes behind the bleachers during football games."

"And now look at how far you've come. The best homosexual you could be," Brian said, and he smiled slightly. He was proud of the way Justin had turned out.

"Thanks to you. You're the best and worst mentor I've ever had." A small smile tugged on his lips.

"One of my many charms." He took a slow breath. He had taught Justin how to trick. Any of those men could have hurt him.

"One of your many annoyances," Justin teased rolling his eyes.

"And yet you stick around in spite of all that." He paused, considering his next few words. "I don't want you tricking."

Justin stared at Brian in amazement. It was the last thing he would have ever expected to hear from Brian Kinney. "Stop tricking?"

Brian looked down at his clutched hands and nodded. He had been shaken and badly. "It could have been you," he said softly. "Almost was. He could have...Just...don't. Anymore."

Justin grabbed Brian's hands to stop them from shaking. "Ok. No more tricking. I promise."

Brian just nodded. "I know...It isn't fair. We had an agreement and I..." He broke off

"It's alright. Don't feel bad about it. It wasn't your fault." Justin wrapped an arm around Brian's torso, holding him.

Brian slowly relaxed under Justin's touch, though it was hard. His muscles constantly fought against him, trying to tense.

Justin rested his head on Brian's shoulder. "Why don't you go lay down? I need a shower."

Brian nodded, grateful that he would have some alone time. He walked over to the bed and curled up underneath the covers.

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