What the hell was he supposed to do with himself now? That was the question in AJ’s mind, the only one that he allowed through. The other ones hurt too much to think about. It took everything he had to shove those questions out of the way. For the past four days AJ had been wandering the house, trying to find something to do with himself. If he could keep busy, then he didn’t have to think. If he was busy enough, he didn’t have to feel.
Four days, and not a word from Brian. No letter, no text, no call. Nothing. Sure, four days wasn’t really that long. But it felt like an eternity. The days were so long, and the nights…he shuddered and moved from the bedroom where he had been standing, staring at the morning sun on his bed. He had to do something, or he was going to sit here and think about those lonely nights in his bed, reaching for someone who wasn’t there, aching to feel their touch. To even just simply hear the sound of his breathing. Anything.
There was not a God damn thing to do in the whole fucking house. AJ bounced his foot up and down as he stared around the kitchen, wondering what he was going to do. He wasn’t hungry. Hell, he hadn’t been hungry for four fucking days. He didn’t want to watch a movie, they all made him think about Brian. He didn’t want to lie in bed, that was obvious where that would lead to. Hell, music didn’t even hold an appeal for him at the moment.
Impulsively AJ darted to his cabinets and grabbed his cleaning supplies. He wasn’t typically the clean-all-the-time type, but he was known to do it to burn off nerves. Brian had always joked that when he went somewhere and came home to a clean house, he knew something was up.
AJ pushed that thought away as quickly as it came. He wouldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t let his mind wander down that road. Brian would call him. He would. He’d call, and he’d come home, where he belonged. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that told him he was lying to himself.
The first place AJ headed to was the bathroom. That was always the one that needed cleaning the most. Just because he tossed laundry in the hamper and forgot about it. Or tossed his towels in there, much to Brian’s annoyance. Standing in his bathroom door, AJ looked at the laundry basket where his towel sat and could clearly hear Brian’s voice saying “Dammit, AJ! How many times do I have to tell you, you hang that shit up or it’s gonna mildew everything else!”
Tears built in AJ’s eyes, but he forced them back. First things first, he’d get the laundry out of the way then. He dropped his supplies on the floor and gathered up the hamper form the bathroom and the bedroom, lugging them down to the laundry room. Once those were going, he moved back to the bathroom.
AJ didn’t really think as he scrubbed the bathroom. That was the point of doing this. While spraying and scrubbing he was kept almost busy enough to not have to think. From the bathroom he moved to the living room, and then the kitchen.
On his hands and his knees, AJ scrubbed at the grout of the kitchen tiling. He’d taken one of his bandanas and tied it over his head, keeping his sweaty hair from falling in his face. In blue jeans and one of Brian’s simple blue tank shirts, he knelt there and scrubbed at this single spot on the floor. If Brian could see him right then, he’d laugh his ass off. Alex the domestic, he’d call him.
AJ sniffed, scrubbing harder and harder. The stupid spot wouldn’t come up. Why wouldn’t it just come up? Why wouldn’t it do what it was told? It didn’t belong here. He wanted it gone.
Just like Brian wanted to be gone. Like how he didn’t want to be here anymore. So he’d walked out the door with some of his stuff and left AJ here, wandering this house, waiting and worrying and wondering. AJ didn’t notice as his tears started to fall, dripping silently to the floor. He didn’t notice until his vision started to blur.
What had he done? What did he do to make Brian doubt what they had together? He said he wanted to make sure this was real, not a product of stress and the fear of Brian’s cancer. Didn’t he know how much those words hurt? To know that, in Brian’s eyes, the past six months might only be because of some delusion? AJ felt his heart break a little as he continued to scrub, bringing one hand up to wipe away the tears furiously.
How could Brian doubt their love that way? Doubt him that way. AJ felt the hurt like a knife in his chest. To have Brian think that AJ’s love wasn’t true, to question that it might be because he’d only been afraid, hurt deep inside. Instead of talking about it, Brian had simply packed his bags and left.
Walked out, just like everyone else in AJ’s life had done.
This stupid spot wouldn’t come up! Furious with it, with everything, AJ chucked his scrubber against the wall. Then he yanked his gloves off, tossing them aside as he sat back against the counters. His knees drew up. Resting his elbows on them, he pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to force the tears to stop. He would not sit here and sob over this. He wouldn’t. But it hurt so much.
God, he wanted a drink. More than anything else in the world, aside from Brian, what he wanted to do was go buy a bottle and drink. That scared him. It had been so long since he’d felt a craving like this. Sure, they cropped up once in a while, but he could control it. When it was bad, Brian helped him control it.
There were so many things he had come to rely on Brian for. He was a wonderful support system. But then Brian had left him. Left him alone here, as if he didn’t care at all. As if AJ’s love was nothing. Just something to cast aside. Something fake.
Determination filled AJ. With shaking hands he wiped his face clear and launched to his feet. Who cared what he did? So what if he wanted a fucking drink. He had every right to drink a little when the love of his life cut out his heart and left him lying here. He told himself that over and over as he went to grab his keys and throw on some shoes.
Brian always said how proud he was of AJ for staying sober as long as he had. How wonderful it was that AJ managed to be clean and maintain it. He’d said a lot of things. Well, who gave a shit what he said? In the end none of it had mattered. None of it had stopped him going out the door like nothing had ever happened between them. So fuck him. Fuck them all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later AJ lay on a lawn chair in the backyard, the bottle of Jack dangling in his hand. His head had that perfectly happy, empty feeling. Nothing in the world mattered. With exaggerated care he brought the bottle up, drinking straight from it as he watched the clouds go by. God, he’d missed this!
Who needed Brian? Who needed anyone? All they’d do would be to judge him. Fuck them, the bastards. They had no idea what was going on in his life! If he wanted a Goddamn drink, well, for fucks sake he’d have one! It’s not like he was starting back down that road again, he told himself. Just a drink to take away the edge form the pain. That was all.
It was doing that, sure as shit. He could barely feel the pain around his heart. Everything had a kind of fuzzy edge to it.
Maybe he should call Brian. The idea struck him and wouldn’t leave. Staggering, he tried to pull himself up out of the lawn chair, only to fall on his ass in the grass. He cracked up for a minute, forgetting what he’d been trying to do. Oh God! If Brian saw him right then, he’d laugh his ass off, and then ream him for drinking. What the fuck did he know? Asshole.
What had he been doing? Oh, right. “Gotta call Bri.” He mumbled to himself. He tried to stand up, but the bottle in his hand made it hard. On all fours he paused, that one hand holding the bottle, and stared at it. Huh. With a shrug he tipped the bottle up, draining the last bit out of it. But in twisting his head he lost his balance and tipped over, landing on his side, spilling a little on his face.
That brought on another round of laughter. The bottle dropped to the grass as he laughed and finally managed to bring himself to his feet. Even as he took the first step, he remembered, duh, his phone was in his pocket!
Pulling it out as he plopped back in the grass, AJ stared at the blurry numbers and tried to remember how to work it. What was Brian’s number again? Huh. He couldn’t seem to remember. Then his hand connected with a button and the phone spoke. “Say a command!”
Holy shit! AJ almost dropped it, he jumped so bad. Oh, that’s right! It had that cool fucking voice command shit. Sniggering, he said “Call Brian.”
A minute later the phone started to ring. AJ laid back in the grass and put it against his ear, his chuckles fading. Come on, come on, answer Bri. Answer the damn phone, you shit. When Brian got on there, he was going to give him a piece of his mind, that was for fucking sure! Who did he think he was, just walking about that way? The asshole.
The ringing stopped, and suddenly Brian’s voice filled AJ’s ear. “Hey, this is Brian! Sorry I didn’t answer the phone, I’m probably busy. Or lazy. Or having fun. Something like that. Anyways, leave me a message and I’ll call you back. Maybe. Someday. Whatever. Thanks!”
Just like that AJ’s temper disappeared and the tears came again. When the beep filled his ear, signaling that he should start his message, AJ ended up saying something totally different than what he’d intended.
“Where are you? I’m so lost without you here, I don’t know what to do with myself. I wander around here and I can’t seem to think straight. I’ve cleaned everything from top to bottom, waiting for you to call, to come home. It’s been four days! Oh God, Brian, I love you. Why don’t you realize that? Why do you doubt me? I can’t take this being apart. I miss you. It feels like someone cut my heart out of my chest. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Everything makes me think of you. Please, baby, come home. Don’t leave me like this. Please.”
The phone slipped from his hands and AJ didn’t have the strength to pick it back up. As he heard the beep that signaled his phone had hung up, he curled up on his side in the grass, wrapping his arms around his knees, and sobbed until the alcohol took him into unconsciousness.