|
|
|
|
The One Where Elliott Meets Joan, Again
Author: yoursweater Pairing: Brian/Justin Rating: G Timeline: Future Spoilers: No Universe: Elliott Summary: When Elliott meets Joan Kinney the second time, it’s on purpose. Written for on__impulse challenge 5. Author's Note: The second part to Elliott Meets Joan Kinney, written for on__impulse When Elliott meets Joan Kinney the second time, it’s on purpose. Justin hovers all morning while Brian tries to finish off some paperwork and make a pot of coffee at the same time, and instead of saying anything, Justin fidgets instead, fumbling around with anything he can reach for the better part of an hour until Brian finally snaps. “I said you can come if you want.” Brian finally says, voice very fucking calm. But Justin looks unconvinced as he says, “And my answer was that I think if we went together, Joan would attack me. Just fucking, like. Attack.” He says, and moves his hands around in a circular motion to get his ‘fucking, like, attack’ point across. Brian folds his arms across his chest. “Then stop hovering. You’re driving me infuckingsane.” Justin squawks, recovers, and replies, “I’m not hovering.” “What, you just decided to clean the fucking sink while I’m trying to make some coffee?” Brian asks, raising his eyebrows, and Justin won’t look him in the eyes. “Justin I’ve never seen you clean the sink in your life. So stop it before I throw you out on your ass.” Instead of arguing, Justin turns the tap off, and when Brian throws him a pointed look, his excuse is, “Fucking economically friendly, okay? I’m just saving water.” For a split second Brian forgets about his mother and smirks. Brian always thought that the apocalypse would come before he’d willingly decide to visit his mother’s house without the intent to attend a funeral, attempt coming out or fuck a priest. Then again, said apocalypse had probably already come and gone, he realized, when he ended up with two sons and no lesbian to take one home. And yet there he was, shifting back and forth from foot to foot on Joan Kinney’s doorstep, with a nervous bounce in his knees and a confused kid in his arms. “Pretty ugly house.” Elliott surveys, eyes studying the exterior of the middle class home Brian grew up in. “Hideous.” Brian confirms, and Elliott snickers and lays his head flat against the shoulder he’s resting on, one arm wrapping around Brian’s neck as the front door creaks open. It’s very haunted house, except instead of a ghost on the other side, it’s just a witch. “Joan. Hi.” “Brian.” She leans against the door and her plucked eyebrows move about halfway up her forehead. Brian smirks and tries not to let his twisting stomach get to him as Elliott looks down at the woman who should be his grandmother but is truthfully even less than an acquaintance. “What are you doing here?” “I introduced Jack to Gus before he died.” Brian starts, and his voice is hard as he shifts from one foot to the other. Elliott perks up at the mention of Gus’ name and he looks over Brian’s left shoulder, watching the lawn to see if Gus will appear from behind a tree, maybe with Calculator behind him. “Brian, I won’t submit myself to your antics.” Joan says, moving back so she can shut the door in her son’s face. Brian’s expression hardens, and he can hear Justin repeating ‘told you, told you’ over and over in his head. “I know that you’re doing this for my attention. This time you won’t get it.” “Elliott.” He says, nudging the head off his shoulder, and Elliott looks up with sleepy eyes and tries to focus in on the gaunt woman in the narrow doorway. Brian can feel his nerves slowly building up into a breakdown. “Say hello to Joan.” Joan frowns some more, and all of the lines in her face deepen as Elliott offers her a half assed wave and says, “I already met you.” “She shut the door in your face?” Michael complains, moving around the checkout counter with a stack of dusty comic books in his arms. Brian frowns and leans against the counter, trying to pretend that his best friend doesn’t actually still own a comic book store and reads ninety eight percent of the material that goes through it. “Of course she did. You really expected some other kind of reaction? She’s Joan, for fucks sake.” Brian snaps, then shakes his head when Elliott looks up from where he’s trying to lodge a possibly very expensive plastic figurine into a too small shelf. The head is close to snapping off when Michael walks by, reaches down, and takes it. “Fuck me for saying it, but Justin was right. I should’ve just forgot about it.” Michael shrugs and listens for the usual sniffles or whines to start from Elliott, but when Brian kneels down and picks him up, his attention is diverted from the fact that someone just took something off of him. “Okay, but seriously.” Mikey says, looking over to where Brian’s standing by the door, and for a second Brian’s convinced his friend is going to divulge some big enigma to him, but then he realizes it’s Michael. “Who should I put in the window, Spiderman or Rage?” “Why’s it bothering you so much?” Justin asks that night, after Brian starts to complain about the earlier encounter with his mother again. “I mean, you’ve never cared what she’s thought of you before.” “I don’t care now.” Brian states, frowning as he reaches for his last pack of cigarettes. Justin raises his eyebrows and waits for the rest, but then Brian’s just shrugging and sliding off the kitchen stool to go to the balcony and feed into his nicotine addiction. Justin is seriously considering committing a quick suicide the next day as he waits on the front stoop of Brian’s mother’s house, his pulse thumping as he listens to the doorbell ring and echo through the front hall of the home. He keeps his eyes trained on the toes of his shoes, and doesn’t miss the sound of the curtain scraping against the window before silence falls over the entire house and he realizes that as far as Joan Kinney is concerned, he doesn’t exist. Debbie is carrying three separate plates of cheesecake in one hand when Justin walks into the Diner that night, holding one of Elliott’s small hands as he takes clumsy toddler steps toward the booth at the far end of the room. She sees the two of them immediately, and even though Mikey has been filling her in on the never ending Joan Kinney Saga, she’s still Debbie and she wants a first hand account. “Alright, Sunshine.” She says, looming over the edge of the table and looking down at it’s two occupants. Elliott offers her a mouthful of new teeth and Justin barely manages a half smile. “Spill.” The best thing about working at Kinnetik is that Brian is the fucking boss, and he has an assistant who could technically initiate the shutdown of the entire world if he told her to. The worst thing about owning Kinnetik is that sooner or later he has to leave because Ted is his fucking accountant, and he can tell Justin if Brian’s just sitting at his desk doing shit all and pretending to work on an account just so he doesn’t have to leave his office and face the rest of humanity. “You fuck.” Cynthia smiles, looking up at Brian as he passes by her desk. He stops walking and glances down at her with raised eyebrows and a questioning expression. “You said you were bringing that kid of yours in for me to fuss over this afternoon.” Brian smirks despite himself, but Cynthia always knew he wasn’t Big Bad Brian Kinney anyways. “That little shit of mine?” Brian asks, sliding one arm into his expensive jacket, and then the other. Cynthia leans back against her chair and nods with a grin on her face as she watches Brian fish his car keys out of his pockets. “If I can get him away from the other twenty thousand hoards of women who want to fuss over him, maybe.” “So she shuts the fucking door in his face right, and he said that he thinks she was going to open it again, but then she heard Elliott say that he didn’t want to see the witch anyways.” Justin explains, and he smirks despite himself while Debbie starts laughing and leans over to pinch Elliott’s cheek. In a fashion that he’s perfected straight from Brian himself, he immediately squirms away and then offers his best doe eyed expression up to his pseudo grandma. “Did Michael tell you what she said to Brian after she met me in the grocery store?” Debbie shakes her head and Justin frowns and glances down at Elliott. “I’ll, uh. I’ll tell you later.” She nods and looks sad as she kisses the top of Justin’s head. Brian walks through the Diner doors exactly eighteen minutes after Debbie delivers Justin and Elliott’s food, and almost sits down at the front counter to order his usual coffee before he notices the two in the booth at the very back of the room. Elliott notices Brian before Justin does, and throws one arm up and exclaims, “Look, pancakes for dinner!” “Hey.” Brian smirks as he goes to slide into the booth, but the expression immediately turns into a frown. “Justin, he has fucking lipstick on his cheek.” “Joan has more authority over him then he’ll admit.” Justin says to Michael the next day, as he helps him go through boxes full of comic books that need to be sorted out and then priced. “No kidding.” Michael snorts and then shakes his head. “He’s still piss scared of her, even after all of these years.” Justin frowns and hands Michael a copy of the first Rage issue ever, and it’s still wrapped in the original plastic. Michael squeals and then says, “Now I have four of these!” Brian shuffles around the kitchen, pacing back and forth between the table and the fridge, and then the oven and the back doors as he listens to the kid’s show on the TV in the next room. The volume is turned up three notches too loud for the splitting migraine in Brian’s head. He remembers the fucking night that Elliott had been born, and the day after when he almost had two consecutive breakdowns. The first had been when he realized he had a son that Linds or Melanie wouldn’t be taking home, and the second one ended up being when Ted almost dropped the kid. Brian grimaces at the memory and is glad that Ted is better with numbers than he is with children. “I can’t decide whether he just has family issues, or if he legitimately wants Eli to meet her.” Justin frowns and nervously tears another strip of paper from the order form he’s been fidgeting with. “That was a stupid thing to say. Of course he doesn’t.” “Justin, come on.” Michael says finally, looking up from where he’s trying to construct a cardboard cutout of JT to put in the front window. “You and I both know that Brian would fucking… I don’t know. Keep Elliott in a cocoon if it meant that he could make sure Elliott would never have to meet people like Joan. Gus too.” Justin nods and frowns and tears the piece of paper again. The next day Brian feels just about as old as Elliott as he sits in the driveway of his mother’s house for the second time in a week. He chain smokes his way through five cigarettes and then readjusts his rear view mirror and the space between the seat and the steering wheel. Then he smokes another two cigarettes and contemplates a joint as his fingers itch towards the gear shift, wanting to just put it in reverse and get the hell out of there. He could just leave and go back to Kinnetik, he thinks, actually use his lunch break for something constructive instead of sitting in his mother’s driveway with the intent to go inside but the knowledge of knowing that it’ll never happen. His phone rings thirty five minutes after he arrived, and Brian jerks in surprise at the shrill noise filling the car before he remembers to reach across and answer it. “We’re out of Jim Beam.” Justin says as his hello, and Brian exhales slowly and deliberately, and knows that ‘we’re out of Jim Beam’ is code for ‘I know where your head is and I think it’s time to just let it go until she drinks herself into a beautifully timed grave.’ “Yeah.” Brian mumbles, and reaches to turn his keys in the ignition. “Yeah, okay.” The End. |