Alla
Copyright July 9-10, 2001
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brian Littrell/AJ McLean
Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.
Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor, the Savage Garden slashwriters, and AJ.
Wherein Brian watches TV, refuses to bake, and laughs at AJ's urinary habits.
"We can't stay with him."
"I feel like we're abandoning him."
"He's getting help."
"We can help."
"We can't help. If we could help, we'd have done something."
"What were we supposed to do? How many times did we talk to him? What else could we do?"
"We had freaking shrinks on tour with us. We talked to him. We knew there was a problem and he knew there was a problem."
"We can't just walk away and leave him in there."
"He's getting help."
"We can all go home and relax. Rest up for next month."
"Yeah."
"You know something? You listen as well as AJ does. You're staying right here, aren't you?"
Brian smiled. "Yes."
"Everybody else checked out?"
"AJ?"
"Abandon ship, is that it? Get out while you still can?"
"They went home. We all need some time to-"
"What are you doing there?"
"I don't want to go home yet. I thought I'd hang around for another day or two."
"I read the most interesting article today."
"What?" Brian asked. This didn't sound good.
"AJ came to us yesterday and said, 'Guys, I need help.' I looked at him in the eyes and said, 'I'm proud of you.' That's the first time he said it to any of us. 'Guys, I have a problem, and I wanna better myself and better the group and better our situation.'"
"Th-"
"It was affecting his show. It took him a while to be man enough, to come to us and say, 'Listen, guys, I have a problem that I need to take care of.' It was important to us as a group to catch it now because we're worried about his safety and his well-being. You could hear a horror story on the news about something he'd done, and we didn't want to take that chance. We didn't want to allow him that opportunity." AJ's voice shook. "It took him a while to be man enough. It took him a while to be man enough."
"AJ-"
"We didn't want to allow him that opportunity - - what opportunity is that, Brian, the opportunity to trash your reputation? Better the group and better our situation, what fucking situation is that?! What the fuck are you talking about, I'm not man enough, you don't want to take the chance that I'll make bad press-"
"AJ! You're hurting yourself and you're taking us with you, and we wanted it to end before it ended on its own, before...before it went too far. Before it went too far and you couldn't come back."
"Fuck you. Fuck you for going out there and not just telling me, not just telling the guys, telling the whole world, you don't think I'm man enough. Are you proud of yourself, you sanctimonious self-righteous little bitch?! You're proud of me, aren't you? You look me in the eyes, say how proud you are of me. Look at me in the eyes, you can't construct a decent sentence to save your life or your lyrics. That was touching, Brian, that was really touching, I could have cried." AJ hung up the phone.
Oh, god, AJ.
Brian loved AJ, and he wanted to hit AJ. Hard.
AJ was ruining AJ's life. Ruining their lives. Ruining the Backstreet Boys. Brian could have taken it if AJ had left. If the Backstreet Boys broke up, Brian could live. He could find a new way to live. But seeing AJ self-destruct, that hurt worse than anything. It wasn't so much the damage to the Backstreet Boys that hurt, as the damage to AJ. Watching AJ. Day by day, night by night. Watching AJ tear himself apart.
Brian hadn't known what to do. How to help. He'd talked to AJ; he'd talked to the guys; he'd talked to God. Nothing helped. They'd worried. They'd watched. They'd waited.
There had always been something...angry in AJ. Something bitter and resentful. It came out onstage, but some people chose not to see it. Brian saw it. The sneers, the taunts - - AJ was hurting, and AJ was lashing out. At the fans. The fans who loved him but didn't know him. Couldn't know him. AJ looked sexy onstage and made a decent pin-up, but how could that translate into a true understanding of a complex individual?
Especially when that individual was AJ. AJ still left the four of them scratching their heads, and they knew him best.
AJ needed the same love and acceptance everyone needed. He sought it from fans, then rejected it as false.
He sought it from the four of them. Had they let him down? Had they not been true to him? Had they promised to stand by him yet, somehow, betrayed him? Didn't they love him enough?
Maybe it wasn't the four of them. Maybe it was AJ. Maybe nothing could be enough for him, until he was enough for himself.
With all of the questions
and uncertainties, Brian was sure of one thing: he was not going home.
He was staying right here, as close to AJ as he could be.
What did he think he got from drinking that he couldn't get elsewhere?
Escape. Comfort. Acceptance. Happiness.
Except, in the end, he had none of that.
Couldn't he get those things from another source?
He didn't want to talk about that.
Treat him, take away the booze, give him drugs, shrink his brain. But there were some subjects that were off-limits. He'd talk about drinking, he'd talk about partying, he'd talk about performing. He'd talk about his home life. He'd talk about his upbringing, his family, his past and present. He'd even talk about the Backstreet Boys.
Call him an alcoholic.
Treat him for being one fucked-up individual. But he was not talking
to anyone, ever, about the one thing that mattered more than any of that.
He just wanted to get back to his room and hide and hate.
In the hallway, he froze. No.
His first instinct was to run.
His second instinct was to attack.
He decided to go with his initial plan: hide and hate. He walked past Brian, unlocking his room door. The rooms unlocked from the outside only, so he couldn't lock himself in there and do something inappropriate. He wondered if he could lock Brian in there. See how Brian liked it.
"AJ."
He was ignoring Brian. He didn't know Brian. He went into his room and closed the door.
Brian opened the door.
"Motherfucker!"
Brian closed the door and looked at him. Didn't even bother looking around the room, just looked at him. "AJ."
"Get the fuck out. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you. I miss you."
"You miss me. That's sweet, Brian, that's moving. You miss what, worrying that I'll fuck up the show? Worrying that I'll do something stupid and get in the tabloids?" Brian was coming closer. "You touch me I'll hit you, I swear to God."
"AJ."
"Don't you dare start crying, you little son-of-a-bitch."
"I'll come back tomorrow."
"Don't even try it.
I don't want to see you."
And the watery eyes deal. Fuck that. Oh, poor Brian, so concerned for his dear friend AJ. Fuck Brian.
AJ hated life. Hated
the world. Hated the whole fucking universe. Really, really
needed a drink.
Fuckers.
He went outside. He needed a smoke. It made him fidgety, wanting to have something to do with his fingers. He could handle going off alcohol if he had his beloved nicotine.
He paced around the grounds, or whatever the hell they were called. A bunch of grass and a pretty path between trees. They must have one hell of a gardener. Maybe he could get a job here, pruning bushes. Keep touring without him, Howie was talking about touring without him. That motherfucking backstabbing-
Brian fell in beside him.
"Told you not to come."
"I wanted to see you."
"I look like shit."
"I like looking at you anyway."
AJ grunted.
"You need to shave."
"I need a cigarette."
"I don't want you to have one."
"Who cares what the fuck you want?"
"I do."
AJ snorted.
"I want you to live forever," Brian said.
Shit.
Brian cleared his throat. Sniffed.
AJ kept walking.
Brian stayed beside him.
"Everybody else went home. You might as well go, too."
"I'd rather stay."
"For what?"
"For you."
"I don't want you to stay. Go home, Brian."
They stopped walking and looked at each other.
"Go home."
"I'm not going home until you come with me," Brian said.
"Go. Home."
"I like it here."
"It's a hellhole."
"But you're here."
"How apropos."
"AJ."
"Brian, fuck off. Go home. I don't want you here."
"I'll come back tomorrow."
And if he wasn't ready? They were going to go without him. They were going off on tour while he was here discussing his feelings and trying not to claw himself to shreds.
No pressure, AJ. Relax,
recover, feel better. In one month or less. Or we're taking
your life away from you.
He went to the weight room. He was cool. He was calm. He was in control. He'd be damned if he was taking off his shades. They weren't an affectation, they were fucking self-defense.
"Do you need a spotter?"
Well, if that wasn't fucking metaphoric. "Fuck off."
Brian walked around him. He forced himself not to stop lifting. "The guys keep calling. They ask how you are, how you look, what you've been doing, how you sound."
Oh, that was kind. Checking up on him. He'd have to send them cards and flowers for their thoughtfulness.
"I tell them you look like hell and you sound as pissy as ever."
If that was supposed to make him laugh, it wasn't going to work.
"Kevin says you must be feeling better."
He laughed. He couldn't help it.
Brian smiled. "Are you eating?"
"No."
"AJ."
"Don't lecture me. I get enough of that."
"Are you hungry for anything? I can get you something."
"Bake a cake with a file in it so I can bust out of this joint."
Brian smiled. "I can't cook, but I'll ask around."
"Great." AJ released the weights and flexed his fingers. "Go away. Go home."
"Am I allowed to touch you?"
"No."
"One hug?"
"I'm sweaty."
"It wouldn't be the first time."
Touching. Hugging. Physical affection. Expressions of love. No. He couldn't. His nerves were scraped raw. He couldn't take it. Not now. Not from anybody. Not from Brian. He stood. "Fuck off. I have to shower before my date with a pretty doctor." A thought hit him. No, no, no. No way. "Have you talked to them?"
"To who?"
"The shrinks, the therapists."
"No. I want you to tell me how you are, yourself. Kevin said I should talk to your doctors, but I didn't think you'd want me to go behind your back like that."
AJ blinked.
"One hug?"
"Get a girlfriend."
"I'll cause a scene," Brian warned.
That was his job. He caused scenes. He stole the spotlight. All eyes on AJ.
Brian looked good.
"I need a drink."
"You need a hug."
"Brian, fuck off."
"Handshake?"
"Fuck off," he repeated, and started for the door.
"Can we play footsies?"
He turned and glared.
Brian waited.
"Go to hell."
"Footsies in hell.
That's a good album title. Let me think about that one. I'll
see you tomorrow, AJ." Brian left.
Brian wasn't staying just for his sake. The other guys had all gone home. Brian was here for something else. Not for him. Brian was spending days and nights being Brian, having fun, living life. Coming to visit him was probably a chore. Brian wouldn't even show up tomorrow.
AJ rolled to his other side,
pulling at his dick.
"Six-pack?"
"You already have one," Brian said, and touched him. Patted his abs in passing. Warm, real, fleeting.
AJ stood still, absorbing that touch.
Brian handed him a bag. "Happy birthday."
"It's July."
"Happy July."
AJ opened the bag. Oh. Soft, crushed velvet. Delicious, deep burgundy. He tried it on.
Brian smiled.
AJ wanted to see how it looked, but he wasn't much for mirrors these days. "Thanks."
"I thought you might like to wear it while your hair grows back in."
He pushed Brian. Brian grinned and tugged the hat a little. "What do you do all day?"
"Me?" Brian asked. "Talk to the guys, try to write, watch TV. Shop for presents for you. I have two more hats and a pair of sunglasses, if you want them."
"Why are you here?"
"To see you." Brian's fingers brushed his chin. "How was your date with the pretty doctor yesterday?"
AJ hesitated.
Brian waited.
He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to talk to Brian. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to tell anyone, especially Brian, about how fucked up he was, and how stupid his reasons were.
Brian sat on his bed, like they were relaxing in a hotel room. Familiar, comfortable.
"We tried to decide if tats and piercings are self-mutilation."
"In general, or in your case?"
"For me. She thinks I take everything to extremes. I can't just get some ink, I have to decorate every inch of my body with it."
Brian nodded and considered this theory. "It's a form of self-expression."
"What am I trying to express?"
"I wish I knew," Brian said.
It was enough to make him think Brian cared.
Brian did care. He knew that. Intellectually, logically, he knew that Brian cared. All four of them did. They loved him. They were brothers.
Three brothers were enough. Big brother Kevin, little brother Nick, favorite brother Howie. He didn't need Brian for a brother, too.
He needed Brian for something
else.
He knew that.
Brian was too good for him.
He knew that.
Not just too good, but too...good. Sure, Brian was just a guy, someone who acted stupid and swore and fucked up like anybody else. But there was something wholesome and pure about Brian that couldn't be tarnished and couldn't be ignored. It was there, and it was real, and it was just one more reason AJ could never have him.
AJ had imagined otherwise, once. Had thought that maybe, maybe...
He knew better now.
He came back to his room. Brian walked over to him, got close despite his prickliness. Lowered his sunglasses, saw his wet, tear-swollen eyes. Hugged him.
"I love you, AJ." Brian's
hand rubbed his back; Brian's chin was on his shoulder. "It'll be
all right."
He came back from his therapy
session and went to bed. Brian fucking tucked him in. And Brian
was still there when he wakened.
AJ paced.
Game shows, talk shows, commercials, Brian stopped on one channel.
AJ looked over.
Soap opera sex scene.
AJ snapped off the TV and resumed pacing.
"Come on. That's the closest I've come to getting laid in a month," Brian said.
Fucker.
"Can you have sex in here?"
"Everybody else does."
"Does it have to be a legal spouse, or can it be anybody you want?"
"Not supposed to screw the doctors." AJ shrugged. Like he cared. He wasn't getting any.
Brian stood up and looked around. "These rooms are monitored, aren't they?"
"Video surveillance." That fucked with AJ's head. Like he needed people watching him freak out.
"If you have sex, people are watching?"
"Maybe it's supposed to be a turn-on."
"Maybe you can do it in the closet."
"You thinking of screwing that blonde woman down the hall?"
"AJ, she's old enough to be my mother."
"Maybe that's a turn-on, too."
Brian laughed.
"You haven't been..."
"What? No." Brian shrugged. "I have other stuff on my mind."
"Do you jack off?"
Brian looked at him. "Sure."
He could ask. He was mentally unstable. He could do anything. Brian would forgive him. He wasn't himself. He'd been giving Brian shit for two weeks now. This wouldn't be the worst thing he'd done. "In your hotel room?"
"Not on the street."
"In bed?"
"Yeah. You want details?"
"Yeah."
Brian looked at him.
He looked back.
Brian lowered AJ's sunglasses.
AJ didn't blink.
"Not really every night. At night, in bed, before I go to sleep."
"What do you think about?"
"I'm not telling you that."
"Why not?"
"It's private!"
"So?"
"My masturbation fantasies are my business, not yours."
Brian had masturbation fantasies. Hearing it like that, bold and plain, heated AJ's spine. "Tell me one."
"No."
"Prude."
"I'm not a prude."
"I'll tell you mine."
"I don't want to hear yours."
"Why not? Afraid they're better than yours?"
"They're not better than mine."
"How hot are yours?"
Brian licked his lips. "Hot."
Oh, damn. "What turns you on?"
"AJ!"
"I won't tell."
Brian backed up.
"Come on."
"I'm going home."
AJ's world crashed.
"To the hotel, back to the hotel," Brian said. "I'm not going home. I'm staying, AJ, I won't go back without you."
Fuck, fucker, motherfucker, fuck-
Brian's embrace was tight. "I'm just going back to the hotel. I'll come back tomorrow. I'll come back to see you tomorrow."
He was fucking shaking. Fucking crying.
"Sshhh." Brian kissed his cheek.
"Don't go. Don't leave me."
"I won't, AJ, I won't."
Brian rubbed his peach fuzz.
An orderly escorted him back from his first session. AJ was itching for a fight.
Maybe Brian would come soon, and he could fight and claw and make Brian go away for good.
Knock on his door. Brian poked his head in. "May I come in?"
"Enter at your own risk," AJ growled from the bed, hugging his knees.
"One of your doctors told the receptionist to ask me to go away and come back tomorrow. What's going on?" Brian came into the room, closing the door.
"I acted out in therapy," AJ muttered. He felt prickly. Hostile. Come closer, little boy, and let me poke out your pretty blue eyes.
"What's that mean? You threw a fit?"
"Trashed his desk, trashed his bookcase, pissed on his floor."
"You what?" Brian asked.
"Don't you dare start laughing at me, you little fuck."
"You peed on his floor?"
AJ tried to hold onto his anger.
Brian was cracking up.
He wasn't going to smile.
Brian sat beside him, still laughing. "You peed on his floor!"
"Nice white carpet, too."
"AJ!" Brian's right side was against his left side now. Warm and familiar. "You leave here your bill will have therapy, food, room, carpet cleaning..."
It was kind of funny.
"Maybe he'll cut out the stain and sell it on eBay. 'AJ McLean peed here.'"
"How much do you think it'd go for?"
"Anything that comes out of your dick, a cool mil at least."
It felt good to laugh.
Brian rubbed his thigh. "Other than that, your morning went okay?"
He smiled. "Yeah, other than that."
Brian's head was on his shoulder. "Can I tell Kevin you pee in therapy?"
"Tell him it's part of the healing process. All of the shrinks are into it these days."
"Think he'd believe me?"
"Nick would."
Brian chuckled.
"How are the guys?"
"Worried about you. When I was talking to Nick yesterday, he started crying again."
"You sound kind of..."
"I'm worried, too. I'm worried about you, I'm worried about the five of us. I'm really glad I stayed here, AJ. I'm really glad we've been able to see each other. Even if you don't feel any better, it's been therapeutic for me."
"Therapeutic?"
"I was mad at you, AJ, I was so mad at you. I loved you and I hurt for you and...but I was just so mad. It was hard to come here, hard to see you. But I don't have that anymore. I love you, and I hurt for you, and I hope for you. I'm not angry anymore. Not at you." The hand on AJ's leg squeezed gently. "I don't know if having me around is helping or just annoying you. But I'm still gonna stay."
"You're glad you're here?"
"I'm glad I'm here with you. It helps me. To see you. To be close. Even when you're yelling at me or peeing on the floor."
"I've given you a lot of shit."
"You needed to. Oh, AJ." Brian slid over until he was against AJ's chest, in AJ's arms. "I love you."
AJ smiled, held him, kissed his shoulder. "Love you too, Brian." They stayed there, and he felt a hell of a lot better. Then he checked his watch. "Shit. I gotta go. Another carpet to piss on."
"I'm staying," Brian said.
"You go have fun. Mix it up a little; try shitting this time."
When Brian came to see him, he said, "Please step into my office."
"Your office," Brian said. "Okay." They went into the closet. AJ turned on the overhead light and closed the door.
"You've been here for me," AJ said.
Brian shoved clothes out of his way and gave AJ his attention. "I've tried to be. I wanted to be."
"You have been. I'm not saying the guys - - if you hadn't stayed here, one of them would have. But you're the one who stayed."
"We all love you, AJ."
"When I get out of here, I... You've seen me, you've been here with me. I know they'll support me, but when it gets bad and I start..."
"If you ever need to pee on a carpet, come to me," Brian said. "I'm right there for you."
God. He understood.
Brian squeezed AJ's hands. "We're all here for you. You can freak out on me any time you want. I know it won't be easy, AJ. Let me help any way I can, any time I can. Oh, go ahead and cry, AJ. You don't have to prove anything, I know how tough you are." Brian hugged him. "The toughest person I know. Go ahead and cry, no one can see you. Nice closet." Brian rubbed his back. "Think I can borrow that blue shirt?"
He let his hand slide down Brian's back. "When do I get the hats and sunglasses you said you bought?"
Brian chuckled. "Got two shirts and another pair of sunglasses added to the pile. You'll be stepping out of here in style."
"I don't need you picking out my clothes."
"I have great fashion sense. I always look good."
"Brian, you always look good because of you, not because of what you wear. You could wear paper bags and aluminum foil and look good."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Must be the ears."
"The ears?"
"I have cute ears."
"You have a lot of cute things." He squeezed Brian's ass.
Brian laughed. "Thanks, AJ."
AJ kissed him.
Brian's hand caught his jaw, forced him back.
AJ jerked free of Brian's grip but kept Brian in his arms.
"AJ."
"Nobody has to know."
"Is that what you want? A quick screw in a closet? One time, no witnesses, everybody goes on like it never happened?"
"I'll take what I can get."
"You should fight for what you deserve."
"I've been fighting! I'm fucking sick of fucking fighting! Why can't anything be easy anymore?"
"AJ." Brian held onto him. "We're in a closet, where do you think you're going? AJ, I love you. We can kiss, we can do anything you want, but not like that. Not nobody has to know. I'm not ashamed of you, AJ. I think the guys already know I'm in love with you, anyway."
AJ was trying to listen. "What?"
Brian kissed him. Gentle and sweet and promising. "Is this a good idea? Are you sure we, is it just another... Maybe we should wait."
"I hate waiting." He kissed Brian's neck.
"I know." Brian's arms came around his shoulders. "I'm making out in a closet."
"In a nuthouse."
"Oh..."
AJ's toes curled.
"AJ..."
AJ's hand found the swelling bulge of Brian's cock. Brian's kiss was hot and slow. He pushed his tongue into Brian's mouth, licked Brian's tongue.
Brian wasn't the answer to
his every last problem. Brian wasn't even the answer to most of them.
But AJ knew that. He would work and he would learn and he would cope.
And if he ever needed to piss, he knew where to go.
Destiny is everything. Reality has replaced you with the biggest empty void I've ever had in life. Bet you say that I don't care. I bet you say that I don't even think of you, but God knows how wrong you are. Baby will you be there. Just give me time to fix my life. Baby will you be there when I open my eyes? After all the time I've spent wishing you.
Sadness it overwhelms me. My mind flies and carelessly imagines that you're happy with your life right now. I guess that's just the way it goes. Forever's gone, so now I must place you with all the things that I can never have.
I know this much is true. I know this much is true.
-"Set Adrift on Memory Bliss,"
A Cordes and G. Kemp, a Brian/AJ duet on the self-titled album, track eleven,
a song Matthew plays on repeat for hours