NO EXCUSES, NO APOLOGIES, NO REGRETS
Part 21 - Everyday Provider

Thanks to Mandi, Jewel, Lois, PP and Lucille. And to Amanda, for the new home.

JUSTIN

Even though it's late March, the place is still fucking cold. There's still snow everywhere, even in the concrete pathway leading to PIFA. One of these days, I'm going to slip and break a leg, sue their asses and win a shitload of money. Then, I'll never have to work another goddamn day and I can quit fucking school and... shit. The cold is affecting my head. Obviously, I'm going fucking crazy. The truth is, I keep hoping to wake up one morning and see it all gone. The snow, that is. I want to be able to wear t-shirts outside again instead of my boring turtlenecks. I feel like a goddamn stuffed chicken in them!

With an inward groan of anticipation, I push open the front glass door of the Arts building and walk outside; increase my speed when I feel the cool wind against my face. Damn. I should have listened to the weatherman and worn a scarf.

I hear a familiar car horn. Looking up, I see the jeep. Brian's looking at me with a small smile, his eyes covered by fashionable Gucci's. I break into a huge smile of my own, so happy to see him... or the jeep, rather. My prince charming has come to rescue me from this irritating weather with his trusty steed. Fuck. It's offical: I am losing my fucking mind.

I get in the warm interior of the jeep; shove my hands against the vents and lean across to brush my lips against his.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my insides still shivering, trying to adjust to the new temperature.

He offers me some of his latte, which I gladly accept, before pulling out of the parking space.

"Family emergency," he tells me.

My heart feels as though it's stopped. Oh no. Vic...?

"What..." I can't seem to get the words out; I'm scared shitless.

He changes gears and turns to grin at me. "Mel's pregnant. We're invited to the celebratory dinner."

I let out a relieved sigh before I take in his news.

"Oh my God," I say with a smile. "Another baby."

He snorts. "As if two weren't bad enough."

"Two?"

He turns to grin at me and I sock his shoulder lightly when I get his meaning.

At a red light, he stops and retrieves his coffee cup from my now warm hands.

"I guess everyone is gonna be there, huh?" I ask nervously, avoiding looking into his eyes.

After taking a sip of the luke-warm drink, he replies, "You can count on it."

I groan. Oh God. Just what I can do without. I so do not want to see Michael. I've been avoiding him like the plague since... Well, it's been close to a month since I moved in with Connor. Things have been going really well, too. Brian and I still have a fairly good relationship. I spend weekends with him and I try to have dinner with him at least per week. We've been spending most of our time on the telephone, but he's really busy with work lately. And my final exams are two months away. So...

I just don't have time to deal with Michael right now. Especially after the fact that he bad-mouthed me AGAIN! At least this time Brian stood up for me. And to be quite honest, I don't see why I have to deal with him at all. He's obviously not to be trusted and he is no real friend to me, just as I suspected all along.

Brian watches me through his new ultra-trendy shades. "Something wrong?"

I shake my head.

He sighs, knowing that I'm being dishonest with him, and focuses on the road again. The light's changed to green so he pulls off. For the rest of the drive, we're silent. I'm lost in my thoughts; he's obviously ignoring me.

At the munchers, everyone's already there. Including Michael. And Debbie. The moment Brian and I walk in, she's onto me like a preacher on a Bible.

"Sunshine!"

"Hey Deb," I smile, slightly embarrassed. I should be used to her by now, but, I'm not.

"Look at you. Your hair's so long." That's 'cos I'm lazy, even more so than when I lived with Brian and... well, I haven't really gotten around to getting it trimmed. Brian doesn't seem to mind it and to be quite honest, I'm beginning to like the new look too. I no longer look like I'm 12, which is a plus for Brian... I could probably even pass for 20.

Deb pinches my cheek. "How've ya been? Are ya hungry?"

"Real busy," I respond. I hope Michael's in hearing range. "I could eat a little something," I add.

She drags me into the dining room, and I toss a pleading look at Brian, who waves goodbye, his grin mocking.

"Hey sweetie," Lindsay says, drawing me into her arms for a hug. "It's been ages since we've seen you."

I nod and accept the bag of potato chips Deb hands me. "I know. I should come around more often to see Gus, but..." I let my voice trail off.

"We understand," Mel chimes in, coming around to kiss my cheek.

"Congratulations," I tell them both with a smile.

Linds rubs Mel's tummy and I notice the tender look that passes between them. How sweet. I smile and pop a chip into my mouth. Crunch, crunch. I wonder if they have Cherry Coke?

Turning around, I see Brian standing with Ted and Emmett, Gus is his arms. He catches me watching him and makes Gus wave hello. I wave back and return my attention to the 'women folk.'

Mel's telling a story so I try to at least listen.

"So he rushes over from God knows where, this cup in his hands," she says. "Linds grabs it and we run upstairs, 'cos you know, you need to move quick with these things. I had to lie in position so she could insert the syringe inside of me and..."

Eeeewwww! I cringe, the need to spit out the potato chip intense. I dump the bag on the table and hurry over to get myself a drink before I puke.

"Not interested in knowing the 'hows' and 'whens', huh?" It's Vic, grinning at me. I didn't even notice him milling around, listening to the conversation.

I sputter Coke all over the front of my shirt and he laughs some more.

"God, sorry!" I mutter, embarrassed.

He watches me wipe my shirt with a napkin.

"So how have you been?" he asks.

I nod my head; tell him things are going well in a small squeaky voice; chips still struggling to go down my windpipe.

"Everything ok between you and Brian?"

I must have given him a confused look, because he says, "Deb told me you moved out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, I did." I wonder how Deb knew about that? Brian isn't one to broadcast our lives.

"Your mom told her," Vic answers the question I never got around to asking.

Isn't anything sacred anymore?

"We're fine," I assure him.

He nods and I can tell he has some other idea in his head. Before I can open my mouth to defend my relationship, he says, "Sometimes we all need a little space of our own."

I snap my mouth shut and force a smile. He's said it better than I ever could.

"How've you been?" I ask, trying to change the topic. He looks all right; only a little tired. But I remember he had a scare a while back.

"Doctors say I'm improving," he replies. "Gave me even more fucking meds."

I twist my mouth around, unsure of what to say next.

"It'll be ok," I try to offer comfort, but I think it comes out all wrong and meaningless. I open my mouth to add another comforting comment, but he stops me.

He smiles and touches my arm. "You're a good kid, Justin. I'll never forget when you lived with us. It was like having another son around."

His eyes get watery and I can feel the moisture beginning to accumulate in mine too. I'm such a sorry sap.

"Thanks..." I say with a wobbly voice. And it's not because of the chips this time.

He nods his head a few times before walking off to get something to eat while I just stare after him.

"What was that all about?" All of a sudden, Brian is standing next to me, Gus in his arms. The baby has his arms out for me to take him.

"Hey, Gus," I say with a smile. I can't believe he's remembered me.

The baby coos and pokes a finger in my eye, causing a few threatening tears to spill over. I attempt to wipe them away quickly, but Brian does a better job.

"I'm ok," I tell him. "I'm ok."

He needs reassurance - I know how over-protective he is of me. And how much he hates to see me get emotional.

Leaning down, he brushes his lips against mine. We're oblivious to the many eyes on us, taking in our tender moment.

Then, without another word, the three of us return to our mixing and mingling duties.

BRIAN

I'm dizzy from all the kissing we've been doing since we got back to the loft. Justin and I are in bed, naked, and swapping spit at every opportunity. My eyes stay fixed on his blue ones as we face each other, his index finger trailing a path from my mid-thigh to my hipbone, then to my nipple, which he tweaks roughly.

"Oww!" I yell, my hands quick to grip his arm.

He leans down and licks at it until the hard nub is glistening. My dick reacts immediately, but his ass is not up for another one of my invasions just quite yet; maybe in another hour or so. Give me a chance to catch my breath. It's indeed a sad thing... Brian Kinney... worn out from having too much sex.

He attempts to pull at the other nipple, but I squeeze his arm and give him a warning look. My shoulders ache, which I suspect may be from my excitement at trying to meet Justin's every sexual demand and plea.

"Want me to give you a massage?" he asks, fingers already squeezing at my stiff muscles.

I shake my head and lean in for another wet kiss. This one lasts for a full ten minutes.

When he pulls away, he says, "I've been thinking..."

"Always a bad sign," I smartly butt in with a grin.

He sticks his tongue out, something a kid would do and I react by running my teeth along its tip.

His eyes close and he opens his mouth to allow yet another one of my assaults, but I pull away and ask, "So, what were you thinking?"

He sighs and accepts the fact that he won't be getting his twinkie ass fucked until later. "School's going to be finished soon."

I stifle a yawn. "Oh yeah?"

"Two months," he tells me. "And then I'm *free*." He lets out an amusing hoot, which has me grinning.

"Got grand plans?"

He presses his forehead against mine. "Sort of."

I laugh and push him onto his back, hover over him. "Do tell."

He chews on his bottom lip slightly before taking a deep breath. "What do you think about the Bahamas?" His blue eyes are nervously peeking up at me through blonde lashes.

"What's in the Bahamas?" I ask, although I already know the answer.

Using his index finger, he trails a path along my arm, his eyes following their movement. "I was hoping... *WE* could... you know... go or something."

When I don't respond, his eyes find mine. I smile and hear myself say, "Sure, why not?"

He lets out a suppressed sigh and hugs me. "Oh, Brian!"

His laughter... and happiness... are contagious. I find myself grinning like a mad man and leaning down to kiss his inviting mouth.

When we pull apart, he starts babbling. "I'm so excited! I thought for sure you'd say no, especially after Vermont!" When he sees I'm not pleased with the reminder, he quickly adds, "But the Bahamas is ten times better! Can we go for a whole week, Brian?"

I shrug. Sure, why not?

"We can fly first class!"

Is there any other way to fly?

"We can get drunk on pina coladas!"

That's a definite. Although...the fucking things are loaded with calories. We'll have plenty of sex to make up; don't sweat it.

He goes on like this for a couple more minutes while I listen. Or pretend to.

"I should probably get a job," he grumbles. "The trip is going to cost me an arm and a leg."

I snort and reach for a cigarette from on the bedside table. "Take it out of your trust fund," I sneer. Ok, so I'm still a little bitter that fucking Felix is supporting my twat of a boyfriend. Here I was thinking he was so independent when the truth was, he was just no longer dependent on me. He had Felix taking care of him. Before I work myself up into a rage, I light the cigarette and take a long drag. When I look back at him, he has the strangest expression on his face - like he wants to tell me something, but doesn't quite know how.

"What?" I ask, offering him a drag.

His lips brush against the back of my fingers as he takes a long pull from my outstretched hand.

"Nothing," he replies after exhaling.

I run the tip of my tongue along the edge of my teeth and wait.

He confesses his worry less than a minute later. "He took it back."

"Who?" I ask. "Took back what?"

He sighs and sits up. "Felix. And he took back his allowance."

I want to laugh. Fuck. The urge is getting fucking intense. But, I'm a big boy and there are some things I can control.

"I see."

He exhales loudly. "I know what you're thinking," he starts.

Raising my cigarette free hand, I remind him, "Never assume to know what I'm thinking, Sunshine."

His eyes darken. Have I pushed a wrong button? "Well, I don't want his money anyway!"

I can't help the snort that escapes.

"I don't!" he insists. "It was a big help, but fuck! I was living without it before. I can do without it now!"

The volume of his tone is increasing, a sure sign he's about to blow a fuse. Unfortunately, I can't appease him. One: I'm not in the fucking mood and two: I hate it when people lie to me, to my fucking face, as if I'm totally fucking clueless.

"What happened?" I want to know. And I want to know now.

He shrugs. "I told you! I don't want you taking care of me. Same goes for him. I'm not a fucking child, Brian. I can work and take care of myself. Just like you do."

I try to draw him back to bed, he's moved a distance away from me, but he doesn't want to. He starts searching for his clothes.

"Will you just relax?" I grumble. "No one's fucking telling you anything to make you draw swords!"

He pulls on his underwear, hard-on quickly subsiding. "I told you I didn't want to talk about him and you had to push and fucking push!"

Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth and pray for patience. When I re-open them, he's gotten his pants on too. Stubbing the half-smoked cigarette in the bedside ashtray, I tell him, "I swear to God, you're turning into a fucking queen more and more everyday."

"Fuck you, Brian!" he yells. "Where the hell is my shirt?"

I get up and walk into the kitchen, my throat desperate for anything cool. Opening a bottle of Evian, I hear him muttering under his breath.

"Shut the fuck up already!" I yell, my anger increasing quickly.

"Make me!" he throws back, the child in him rising to the surface.

Looking at him sharply, our eyes connect and we stare daggers and flames at each other until we can't any longer. We burst into laughter.

"I'm a fucking moron," Justin says as he walks over to me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kisses the hollow of my throat. "I'm sorry, Brian. I had no reason to react the way I did." He reaches up on his tip toes to kiss the side of my nose. "It must be the fucking pressure of exams... and assignments and..." He sighs.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, uncaring about his silly excuses because that's all they are - excuses. And I don't do well with excuses.

"About the money?"

"No, that Elton John is gay."

He sighs, ignores my sarcasm. "I don't know. Does it matter?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

He bites his bottom lip.

"How much do you have left?"

He shrugs. "Enough."

"Justin."

He tries to get out of my arms, but I hold on tight. "Answer me."

"Brian, will you stop it? Please?"

"Fucking answer me and I'll stop."

He snorts. "More than a thou."

"Is that all?" What the fuck did he do with all that money?

He seems to have read my mind. "I took Mol shopping for school and stuff. And I wanted to do something special for her birthday... and for mom's too. And I bought school supplies... stuff for my apartment... food... you know... stuff?"

I try not to get mad, I really do.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" he asks, pulling out of my arms to look at me carefully.

I don't answer his question; say instead, "I'm going to write you a cheque in the morning. You are to use the money sparingly and-"

He pushes me off him and glares at me. "This is exactly what I'm trying to avoid, Brian!" he shouts. "You're always trying to take care of me! Why can't you just let me take care of things for once?"

That ticks me off. What is so wrong about me taking care of him? He's my fucking partner after all... but I don't tell him any of that, use another approach. He fucking pisses me off sometimes. "Take care of things?" I sarcastically toss his way. "You can't even face your fucking responsibility to Mikey and get working on the fucking comic book!"

"I am not working with that asshole!"

"Justin-"

"Don't tell me I have to, Brian. You always take his side. For once, put yourself in my shoes and see my point of view. I won't work with him!"

"Why the fuck not?"

"After what he said about me?"

I snort. "Who gives a shit about what he said? This is a chance for you to make some money and earn some fucking recognition."

He shakes his head. "Brian, I'm not you. I don't give two fucks about 'earning recognition.' And I'm NOT working with Michael."

His attitude really disgusts me. "Fine. Have it your way." Piss on everything you've worked on. Piss on everything I've worked on.

"Brian."

I gulp down some more water; slam the fridge door shut after tossing the Evian bottle back inside.

"Brian, please." He touches my arm. "I don't want to fight."

I concede. I don't want to fight either. We barely see each other as is, why waste time arguing when we do? And to be fair to him, we seem to be doing a lot more of that lately.

"Ok," I tell him. "You go and do your thing. Just don't fucking involve me in it, is that understood?" It's my anger talking, but right now, it's how I feel.

He sighs, but agrees. Slipping his arms around my waist, he kisses my chest and says, "Let's not do this ok? Let's not fight anymore."

Silence is my answer.

He sighs. "I'm gonna order us some Thai," he says. "How does red curry chicken sound?"

He doesn't wait for my response, knows what I like.

And just like that, he assumes everything is all peachy between us again. But for me, I know what's coming. And it scares me. It fucking terrifies me.

22/03/03

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