Gift #4

[mander3-swish.livejournal.com]

TO: netlagd
FROM: kate_anders / Severus_divides_into_H
TITLE: This Time, Remember
GIFT REQUEST: fluff/schmoop, AU, canon-compliant, humor, Brian/Justin. Brian and Justin meet in a different way - but not out of character.
NOTE: Merry Christmas and a great New Year, everyone :)
To Netlagd – I love the exchange, and I hope you’ll like this story! I honestly suck at writing fluff because I’m a huge fan of angst, so this one was a challenge to me. Basically, the idea itself is fluffy, the execution… well… sort of.


This Time, Remember

The streets were overcrowded. Well, at least Brian thought so. For ten in the evening, there were too many fucking people outside, all cheerful and excited, looking into the windows of the shops that decided to work for several additional hours on these pre-Christmas days.

Curling his lips in distaste, Brian quickened his steps, hoping to get home as soon as possible. How could anyone still buy into this Christmas shit? Year after year, people got excited and prepared useless presents; cooked extravagant food that they would never bother to make any other day and wasted a shitload of money on it all. Only to wake up the next day, realize that Christmas was gone, and return to their boring lives, counting days until the next planned holiday.

Plunged even deeper into the swamp of irritation, Brian quickened his pace, tripped, and nearly lost his balance. Cursing, he strengthened, and his eyes accidentally fell on the man sitting right on the cold ground, leaning against the wall of the building.

He moved forward, fully intending to bypass him, but something stopped him. Some strange instinct that filled him with reluctant feeling of empathy for this poor fucker, who was forced to be cold, dirty, and probably hungry even during holidays.

Sighing, Brian pulled out a hundred and offered it to the man, and was suddenly greeted by a huge, toothless smile.

“Thank you,” the man lisped. “That was very kind of you. I have something for you in return.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have given him money.

“Thanks, I don’t need it,” Brian said stiffly and tried to move, but the man grabbed his arm.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, “you will find what you are looking for. What you always hope to find.”

“Idiots-free world?” scowling, Brian stepped away. So much for being considerate. “The lack of STI so fucking without condom would be possible?”

“Tomorrow,” the man promised, still grinning. An unease spread through him, and without saying anything else, Brian resumed walking, squinting against the falling snow.

Fuck tomorrow. And fuck Christmas.



***



The next day, Brian met Justin.



***



The first time Brian saw him, he stopped in his tracks, staring, mesmerized.

He had been frequenting the Starbucks near his New York office for three years, and he had never seen this barista before. Blond, blue-eyed, with a cheerful smile, and with a gaze that had the mysterious glint that had Brian instantly curious.

Shaking his head to clear it from those strange thoughts, Brian waited for his turn and ordered, “Dark roast coffee. No sugar.”

The blond eyed him with clear interest, and Brian involuntarily glanced at the name tag on his shirt. Justin.

“Sure,” he said. “Do you want it to-go?”

“Yes. Name’s Brian.” Throwing money onto the counter, Brian stepped away and stared at one of the meaningless paintings, trying to pull himself together.

What the hell was wrong with him? He should be standing right there, watching how his coffee is being made, flirting and getting the blond’s number to hook up with him later. Considering the look he’d received from him, it wouldn’t be difficult.

But his strange first reaction was unsettling, and everything emotionally unsettling was dangerous.

In the end, Brian chose to ignore the blond entirely. He waited for his name to be called, grabbed his coffee, and walked outside.

He was near his office when he finally tasted the coffee — and immediately spat it back.

Every day for three years, he ordered a dark roast coffee. He was so used to rich, bitter flavor that he would recognize it anywhere.

This? This wasn’t a dark roast coffee. It was something that tasted like slops.

Pissed, Brian considered going back to Starbucks to deal with the little shit who had no right to call himself a barista, but he had to follow a strict working schedule today and his time was already running out.

After short hesitation, he cursed, threw the coffee in a trash bin, and entered Kinnetik.

He would have a talk with this Justin tomorrow, confounding first reaction be damned.



***



Justin was working the next morning. Brian waited for his turn, slammed money against the counter, and said, “Coffee. Dark roast. Not that shit that you cooked up for me yesterday.”

To his annoyance, the blue eyes lit up in obvious delight.

“It was a good coffee,” Justin uttered, smiling. “You should have tried it instead of throwing it away.”

“How do you know I threw it away?”

“Of course you did. You are Brian.”

“What does my name have to do with anything?” The whole conversation was baffling. His heart did skip a foolish beat at the realization that Justin remembered his name, but he wasn’t going to let this idiocy control his response.

“Nothing at all,” still smiling, Justin offered him his drink. “Here you go. I hope you enjoy it.”

Too distracted by the blinding smile despite his efforts not to react, Brian came to his senses only when he was on the street. Frowning, he tasted his coffee, and then proceeded to spit it back.

This was a dark roast coffee all right. But this time, it had so much sugar that even his half-sip was going to make him practice for entire week to burn off the calories.

Infuriated, Brian poured the horrifyingly sick dark liquid into the bin, crumpled the plastic cup, and put it into his suitcase.

Whatever. Regardless of what the little shit thought, he wasn’t predictable.



***


The next morning, Justin was dressed in dark blue clothes, not at all like what usual Starbucks employees wore. His blue eyes seemed almost startling in contrast, and Brian stared, and stared, and stared until the annoyed crowd started to push him forward.1

This was getting crazy. He had to shake this growing obsession off, right now. Yes, Justin was cute — not cute, beautiful, but it did not mean anything. He couldn’t even brew a proper coffee, for God’s sake, or he pretended to be incapable of it, because other people seemed satisfied with his efforts.

Was he doing it to fuck with Brian’s mind? It was strange and illogical, but what other explanation could there be?

“I want coffee,” Brian growled. “Dark roast. No sugar. No additional flavors. Dark. Roast. Coffee. In its natural self. Are you capable of preparing it or should I have a talk with your manager?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that,” Justin waved his hand dismissively.

“Wouldn’t I?”

“No. It’s not your style. I’ll make you your coffee, but under one condition.”

“A condition? Are you serious?” He was starting to sound like a complete idiot, but Justin’s sheer recklessness and arrogance were too shocking even for someone as jaded as him.

“I’m making you two coffees and you’ll taste both of them. Properly. And when we meet next time, you tell me honestly which one you liked better.”

“What the fuck am I going to do with two cups of coffee?”

“Drink them,” Justin tilted his head, and Brian stared at his pale neck, feeling a wave of desire envelop him from all sides.

“Fine,” he said finally, and Justin rewarded him with another brilliant smile.

“And Brian?” he said as Brian was getting ready to leave. “This time, you can throw both of the cups away. Seriously. Your suitcase isn’t suited for such barbarism.”

Flipping him off, Brian left the coffee shop, even though his thoughts were confused and almost panicked.

How the hell did he know all that? Who was he? Brian was sure they had never met before.

What was going on?

He didn’t touch his cups of coffee until he was safely locked in his office. There, he opened the lid and took a sip from the first cup.

Dark roast coffee. Rich, bitter, bold. Perfect.

He was tempted to ignore the second cup of coffee, but his hand reached out for it almost involuntarily, and he sipped from it.

At first, he was just annoyed that he had to force himself to drink something he had never ordered and would have never ordered under any circumstances. But then, as initial protest had subdued, he felt something else.

A complex flavor. The essence of coffee itself. A trace of sweetness that was far from being unappealing. A subtle floral aroma, and something else, something Brian couldn’t recognize, so he made another sip, and another, and another.

Damn.



***



He didn’t go back to Starbucks. Everything he was feeling was already too much — he didn’t need any more complications in his life. At the very least, Justin was some kind of stalker — otherwise, how could he know what Brian had done with the coffee cups both times?

So, he avoided Starbucks for several days.

Until he met Justin right in Kinnetik.



***



“What are you doing here?” Brian blurted out, shocked.

Justin didn’t seem surprised to see him. He nodded in greeting, as if they were old friends, and said, “Brian. Nice to see you again.”

“It’s Mr. Kinney,” Brian glared at him. “What the hell? Are you stalking me?”

Justin’s eyes flew wide open.

“Of course not,” he said. “I’ve been working as an intern here for more than a month already.”

“Impossible. I would have seen you.”

“He’s telling the truth, Brian,” Cynthia interrupted, watching him closely. “Justin has been working for us for a while.”

“I don’t remember hiring him.” Had he fallen into some kind of alternative universe? This strange creature was everywhere he went, and for some reason, if he was honest with himself, Brian didn’t find it worrying.

On the contrary. Some part of him was pleased.

“I was just going to talk to you, if you don’t mind,” Justin said. “I have some sketches here that I think might be useful for the campaign you are currently working on.”

“You do,” Brian said flatly. “Fine. Let’s go into my office.”

He wasn’t sure what to think when Justin offered the most creative and unusual idea – idea that had been burning his mind for the last week, but one he couldn’t articulate to his employees in the art department.

Brian studied the sketches for far longer than necessary, marveling at how someone not knowing him personally could understand him so well. When he looked up, he was startled to realize that Justin was looking at him with strangely sad and haunted expression. A blink — and it was gone, replaced by the ever-present cheerful smile.

“So?” Justin asked. “What do you think?”



***



Working with Justin was interesting. Fascinating, like Justin himself was.

He seemed to sense every thought that came to Brian’s mind even before it did it. He was attuned to his every movement, and Brian couldn’t deny how addictive it was.

Sometimes they discussed designs. Sometimes they talked about more personal things, like Justin’s schedule and the ways he managed to work in Starbucks and in Kinnetik, or Brian’s hopes for opening one more office .

Sometimes they flirted. Brian had no idea why he was behaving this way, why he didn’t just bend Justin over the nearest table and fucked him to get him out of this system. Instead, he absorbed every smile, every laugh he received from Justin, and all of them were preserved safely in his mind.

As if they had always been there.



***


When Brian kissed Justin for the first time, a shock of electricity ran through him in several powerful waves, making his body tremble. At this moment, he forgot all about technique, about his unspoken need to impress Justin, to show him how good of a kisser he was. At this moment, he turned into a clumsy teenager, tightening his grip on the golden hair and kissing mindlessly, having one instinct — to devour the mouth in front of him.

When they separated, Justin was breathless, clinging to Brian as if he was the only source of stability to him.

“Did you like your coffee?” he asked, his voice strangely vulnerable.

“What?” Desire-stricken brain refused to cooperate despite Brian’s attempts to focus.

“Did you like your coffee?” Justin repeated. “The one I made for you that last time. You never came back for more after that.”

“I saw you in Kinnetik, so there was no point in going back. I stopped having time for coffee.”

“But did you like it?”

“Yes,” Brian rolled his eyes. “It was all right. Satisfied now?”

Justin’s face fell, but he nodded, nuzzling his hand, and Brian inhaled sharply, aching to touch him, to get more of him.

“We should go to your loft,” Justin murmured.

Brian didn’t ask him how he knew where he lived. With time, he came to accept that Justin was aware of little things about him that no stranger should know.

Even though it was unexplainable.

“Yes,” he answered belatedly. “Let’s go.”



***



Brian was obsessed. Obsessively obsessed. If he had suspected it before, now he knew for sure.

Kissing wasn’t enough. Fucking wasn’t enough. Justin’s presence was addictive, and while a part of him continued to fight any emotional attached, he feared it might be too late for that.

It seemed like Justin had been created for the sole purpose of being his… companion. Partner. Lover. Whatever. It sounded ridiculously sappy, but everything about him screamed of familiarity.

Justin managed to avoid all of Brian’s sharp angles while pushing all the right buttons. Quickly, he became something invaluable, something Brian wasn’t sure he would bear to lose.

And it was terrifying. Because Justin? Justin was secretive. Justin was mysterious. He knew everything, even what Brian had never told him, but he himself never shared anything truly personal. Sure, he’d told him about his family, his college, his art, but his stories felt shallow, as if he was deliberately hiding behind them to avoid sharing something really meaningful.


One night, as they were lying in bed, Brian couldn’t fall asleep. He had to get up in four hours, but sleep just refused to come.

He felt a ghost of Justin’s touch on his arm, Justin’s fingers brushing against his skin in an achingly tender way. Almost shuddering, Brian closed his eyes, enjoying it, and then he heard a whisper, “Don’t you ever forget me again. Please. I can’t go through this again — I won’t.”

At first, Brian planned to continue pretending that he was sleeping, but the raw anguish in Justin’s words filled him with instructive desire to soothe and protect. He sat up, and Justin recoiled as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I… I thought you were sleeping,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Tell me,” Brian said. “Tell me what is going on.”

“I can’t. It won’t change anything, and you won’t even believe me,” Justin closed his eyes in defeat, and the sight of it was so unbearable that Brian was ready to say and promise anything in the world, just to make all that was troubling him go away.

Instead, he chose to go with the truth.

“Try me,” he said. “And we’ll see.”

Justin finally looked at him again, even though his eyes were still sad.

“I know you,” he said. “You and I… we always find each other. In all lives. Forever. It is an endless cycle, but one we are forced to experience with different memories.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember me. You never do. I didn’t, either, until one day. Something changed then. Some part of me finally accepted you as my soulmate, and since then, every time I meet you, I remember you. But you don’t.”

“Justin…” Brian hesitated, not knowing what to say. If he had heard this crap from anyone else, he would have kicked them from his bed, but there was no other place he wanted Justin to be in.

“Yes, it sounds crazy. Told you so.” Justin tried to turn away, but Brian caught his arm, not letting him.

“Wait. I… wait. Can you tell me more?”

He doubted he would ever believe this craziness, but maybe…

“There was a man we met once,” Justin said, his voice distant, as if he was not present. “He’s not really a human – I don’t know what he is. He said you won’t remember until you fully accept the inevitability of our union. I was hopeful at first — I knew it would be longer for you than for me because of your reservations. But time kept passing, and you never recognized me. I always had to pursue you, and sometimes I even got you to believe me. That man, he serves as a sort of mediator between us. He pushes us together. One time, he gave us an idea. He told us to create a substance that we had to become familiar with over our remaining years — of that life. He told me to always give it to you. Such a small physical detail, but it was supposed to work. You and I spent ages on it,” another distant look entered Justin’s eyes, and all Brian wanted was to drag him back to this world. To him. “We had a garden in that life. We experimented with different herbs and flowers. You were so stubborn — I wanted the drink to be some herbal tea, but you wanted it to be coffee. It took us ages to come up with something with a distinctive taste, something that could actually affect the memory. Still… it never worked,” Justin looked at Brian again, and the dejection in his eyes made his stomach tighten uncomfortably. “You never remember. I have to persuade you again and again, and sometimes it takes years for you to actually believe me.”

“I can’t accept the guilt for something I don’t remember doing,” Brian snapped defensively, and immediately felt even more guilty.

“I know. You always say it,” Justin’s blue eyes unexpectedly welled up with tears, and Brian’s turmoil worsened. He was torn between wanting to believe, even merely for Justin’s sake, and knowing that Justin’s story just couldn’t be real.

As if sensing his thoughts, Justin blurted out, “In case coffee didn’t work, that man also told me to draw one particular image and show it to you. I tried that before, but it always affected you badly, so I stopped, but…”

“Draw it now,” Brian offered. He desperately needed a distraction from this madness, no matter how brief.

He needed to think.

Without saying a word, Justin went in search of a piece of paper. Then he started drawing, and Brian stared through the window, watching the snow fall. Despite his desire to think, his mind was empty.

He had feelings for Justin. Feelings that he didn’t fully understand, especially considering the short amount of time they had known each other for. But past lives? Memories? A magic drink, and now a magic drawing?

“Brian,” Justin’s quiet voice startled him. “It’s ready. Take a look… if you want.”

Half-tempted to say whatever Justin wanted to hear, Brian accepted the drawing and glanced at it.

And stared.

Nothing special — a mere white scarf dipped in blood, with lines that were too shaky to form a clear picture… but Brian couldn’t look away. Everything within him clenched in a tight painful ball, and when he tried to breathe, he felt like he was burning. Like every cell of his body absorbed fire and was falling apart under the deadly influence of it.

Then the images came. Hundreds, thousands of images of Justin and of himself — locked in an embrace on some field, screaming at each other in something that looked like a throne room, kissing in the ballet studio, studying at college together, dancing at the school prom. Them, in the garden, planting something, with Justin laughing and Brian making annoyed expressions, even though his lips were trembling in a semblance of smile.

Them, together, in every life, every incarnation.

Brian could scarcely breathe. He was shaky, his heart was pounding at a sickening rate — the emotions overwhelmed him to the point where he feared he might burst with them.

“Justin,” he whispered, and didn’t recognize his voice.

In the next second, Justin was in his arms, hugging him so tightly that Brian felt his ribs crack. He hugged him in return, kissing the golden hair desperately, trying to find a balance with memories but finding none.

Justin.

His Justin.

“I love you,” Brian breathed out. “God. I missed you so much.”

“You can’t miss someone you do not remember,” Justin said.

“I can. I always felt that something was missing, I just didn’t know what. Justin…” Brian kissed him again, still unable to believe in the reality of what was happening.

“I always thought… if you cannot remember me, even after all this time, maybe we are not meant to be? Even if we—”

“No,” Brian shook him sharply. “No. You always say it, and I always tell you one and the same thing. There is no one else there for me — there never was. I love you. I will always love you, wherever we were.”

Their lips met again, urgent and passionate, and when Justin looked up at him again, he was grinning — a huge, sunshine grin that never failed to melt Brian’s heart.

“You cannot forget me again,” he said, and despite the smile, his words were grave.

“Never again,” Brian swore.

He didn’t know if he could keep his promise. But they had this new life, here and now. Many more years of being together, basking in each other’s ambience.

He would figure it out.

If not in this life, then in the next.

The End