Double-posting for GREAT JUSTICE.
Or, actually, for Brian/Hugo shipping. ;D
Ages ago on Version Two, I posted the first half of a Brugo fic and then never finished it. Well, it's finally done. So I thought I would share.
Warning: Fluffy, cavity-causing slash romance under the spoiler. But unlike Erin I tried to make it, y'know, actually
.
Return to MeIt wasnât such a difficult thing; making a cell phone call.
Unless it was
this cell phone call.
TwentyâŚno, more like twenty-three tries in the last half hour. Heâd had the entire number punched in once, but instead of hitting call, his thumbnail had instead chosen to back out of the screen.
Brian stuffed another forkful of lettuce in his mouth and tried again as he chewed. Open phone. Start typing the number. He didnât even have to check it against the number written on a worn rolodex card, he had the damn thing memorized. He checked it anyway; it kept his mind busy.
Three, six, zero, three, twoâŚAnd that was the end of that. A burgeoning anxiety attack stopped him from going further. He closed the phone, set it down roughly, and resumed eating and ignoring the glances of the other restaurant patrons.
It was pathetic in the worst of ways, even more pathetic than the months â years, if he was to be honest with himself â heâd spent pining. At least heâd been able to huddle in the privacy of his own home then. Now every table nearby was staring curiously at him, witnesses to the battle of the Cell Phone Call Which Refused To Be Made.
He finished his lunch, paid the bill, and ambled out to the sidewalk. It was quite a nice day out, warm enough that he didnât need his jacket, which heâd brought anyway for the childish comfort of having something to hold onto.
With a sigh, Brian looked down at his cell phone. If the last forty minutes had been any indication, this wasnât going to get any easier. Either bite the bullet or give up.
Do you want the chance to see Hugo or not? He asked himself.
Yes.That left only one choice. He flipped it open again and focused on the numbers.
Three, six, zero, three, two, eight, five, two, five, sixâŚcall.Maybe it would just keep ringing. Maybe he could leave a message. That way, it handed the control over to Hugo as to whether or not he wanted to call back. Maybeâ
âHello?â
He must have caller ID, his tone was too incredulous to be his usual phone voice. He sounded older. A little tired. And yet still familiar, so goddamned
familiar.
âHi,â Brian said, forcing the words out around his heart, which had lodged itself in his throat.
âIs thisâŚ?â
âYeahâŚitâs me.â
The quiet intake of air on the other end of the line didnât go unnoticed. Brian hurried to add, âIâm sorry for calling like this.â
âItâs all right,â Hugo said.
Brian couldnât be sure if the words had been said in reflex or if Hugo had meant them, but they helped.
It was all right.âI justâŚsee, Iâm in town, and I thoughtâŚI might stop by to say hello if you didnât mind,â he said.
âI donât mind.â
That hadnât been reflex.
âJoanâs here,â Hugo added, snapping the ridiculous grin from Brian's face.
âHuh?â
âJoanâs here, she lives with me now. Sheâs not home right now, butâŚif it matters.â
If it matters.Guilt replaced his happiness and all the horrible things that his jealousy over a harmless child had caused him to say rose up in his mind.
âYou like her more than me, donât you? You only think about her now. You donât have room in your life for me. You donât love me anymore.âNo matter how many times Hugo said it wasnât true, he hadnât listened.
Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry.âIt doesnât matter,â he said aloud.
It never really mattered.âAll right. Itâs the same address.â
âOkay. See you in a few.â
ââŚSee you.â
Brian hung up. The world suddenly felt surreal around him. He turned and saw some of the diners in the restaurant still keeping an eye on him. He nodded a greeting at them and set off at a walk.
What the hell. Maybe theyâd been cheering him on.
- - -
The house didnât look much different. An unfamiliar truck sat in the driveway, but there was no doubting whom it belonged to; it was just a newer version of the trusty old model Hugo had owned back then.
Brian ran his hands through his blond hair yet again. The stupid truck alone had brought back memories, and it wasnât even the
same truck.
Seeing an ex wasnât supposed to be easy. Seeing an ex after thirteen years probably shouldnât be so difficult, though.
Of course, when your last memory of the person was of them crying, not even fighting anymore, just broken and asking you not to leave, that made it tougher.
âBrian, donâtâŚâIt hurt now, but back then heâd been a stupid kid, too unaware to realize what he was doing to them both. Part of him was surprised Hugo was willing to see him again at all.
He walked to the door and knocked before he could lose his nerve. It swung open a few seconds later, and Brian found himself staring into a face heâd tried to forget, only to fail every time.
Hugo looked older. Tired. His laugh lines werenât as noticeable, but his eyes hadnât lost their clever glint.
Smithy, he felt the old urge to whisper. He stuck with a painfully polite, âHello Hugo.â
âHello Brian. Do you want to come in?â
âSure.â He walked inside, glancing around against his will. It looked surprisingly similar, right down to the model sailboats and fish trophies in their same old places.
You never did like change, he thought with sad fondness.
They were both standing awkwardly. Brian made the first move. âWhereâs Joan?â he asked, sitting down.
âAt her boyfriendâs house.â
Brian noted his tone. âYou hate him.â
âWhat?â
âYou hate her boyfriend.â
âNo!â Hugo protested, breaking out of his stiff, formal tone at last. âNo, I donât.â
Brian raised his eyebrows and Hugo sighed.
âIs it that obvious?â
âKind of.â
Hugo sat down too, on the couch beside him, much to Brianâs surprise and consternation. âI just donât think heâs good for her, but she wonât listen to reason. Sheâs already talking about moving in with him and she hasnât known the boy more than two months. I donât know what to do with her.â
Brian shifted his weight. âCould uhâŚher mother maybe help?â
âNo, Renee got a job overseas this summer. Thatâs why Joanâs here.â
âSo this is a new development, her living here.â
âYes.â Hugo shook his head, his fine brown hair falling into his eyes when he stopped and looked at Brian. âEnough of my bitching, you didnât come here to hear about my parental woes. What have you been up to?â
âOhâŚnot much. I umâŚjoined the FBI.â
âReally? Thatâs great! You were always brilliant, theyâre lucky to have you.â
The heartiness in Hugoâs tone, along with his mere proximity, was making Brianâs heart pound painfully. Here they were, talking like two old classmates, but they
werenât just old classmates. They were more, shouldnât they be talking like they had been more?
âNo wonder you picked up on how I felt about Edward. Youâre probably an expert at reading people now,â Hugo was saying.
âHopefully Iâm better than I was,â Brian mumbled.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â He straightened up. âWhat have you been doing? Do you still have a million hobbies?â
âOnly half a million now,â Hugo said ruefully. âIâve been working multiple jobs for awhile. Plus, Joanâs here, thatâs a job in itself.â
âI see youâve still got your boats. You still fish?â
âYeah, yeah I do. Not much these days. Joan doesnât like fish, and it seems like a waste to catch one just for me.â
He couldnât help noticing how Hugo kept bringing the topic back to recent months, as if neither of them wanted to mention the years between the last time they had seen each other. Knowing that this awkwardness was his fault, Brian decided to take a leap.
âAre you nervous?â he asked. âAbout seeing me?â
Hugo grimaced. âKind of,â he admitted.
âMe too,â Brian said.
âItâsâŚbeen a long time.â Hugo said quietly. âWhen I saw your name on the phone, I thought I was dreaming.â
âYouâre lucky I managed to make the call at all,â Brian said. âI was so afraid you wouldnât want to hear from me.â
âIâd never not want to hear from you,â Hugo said, and Brianâs mouth went dry.
âReally? Even after all the things I said?â
âI donât blame you for those,â Hugo said, looking down at his hands. âI wasâŚneglecting you. Us. I never loved her more than you, you know. I just didnât want to be a dead-beat father. It wasnât Joanâs fault that she was an accident, and I didnât want her growing up feeling like one.â
âI know that. You were trying to do the right thingââ
âBut at the cost ofâŚâ He sighed, not finishing. âI thought about calling you, especially after Renee took her and moved away.â
âWhy didnât you?â
âI was afraid. I didnât think I could handle being rejected by you twice.â
Brian felt his heart shatter.
And here he had spent these years telling himself Hugo probably hated him anyway. Convinced that after how he had acted, his partner was probably glad he was gone for good. When all along, the person heâd always professed to love most had been in pain, wanting to see him and yet scared.
Scared. Hugo wasnât supposed to be scared of anything, he had always been the fearless one.
âSmiâ Hugo, Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry.â
âItâs all right, Brian.â He smiled at him, sadly. âItâs nobodyâs fault. BesidesâŚafter all this time, thereâs no point in dwelling. Maybe it was all for the best. Weâve been able to do other thingsâŚyouâre in the FBI for heavenâs sake, your life must have been so much more fascinating for leaving me.â
Brian wanted to agree, for the sake of leaving Hugo with the comfortable idea that everything had happened for a reason, but he couldnât.
It wasnât like he hadnât tried to move on. But no matter how many brown-haired, brown-eyed men he met or dated or slept with, none of them could burn away the memory of the only person to make it into his heart.
The hell was the title of FBI agent worth if, in the end, heâd only worked toward it to fill his empty days and nights? All the ranks and titles in the world wouldnât turn his pathetic life into a fascinating one.
Hugo stood up. âIâm sorry. Here you are being kind, and Iâm bringing up all these things.â
âNo, no.â Brian stood up too, anxiously. âItâs all right. It makes sense to start thinking about the past now. Iâm sorry I just showed up out of the blue like this.â
âItâs fine.â
âNo, I meanâŚI should have stopped and thought about what it meant for you. What if you had aâŚyou know, a family here now, and then I just walked in? I should have at least considered that I might cause trouble showing back up.â
Hugo met his eyes. âIâd still have wanted you to visit,â he said. âAnd anyway, itâs just me and Joan, and she doesnât even know about youâŚor me, for that matter.â When Brian blinked questioningly, he elaborated, âSheâs one of those born-again people.â
âOh geez.â
âYeah. I canât even have a beer without her getting on my case. Figured it was best not to tell her.â
âSo what do you do, sneak out on dates when sheâs with her boyfriend?â He asked, in an effort to act like he was fine with their lives having taken entirely separate paths.
âIâŚI donât date,â Hugo said, ruining his effort.
âOh.â Brian bit his lip, acutely aware of how quiet the room was. âUm, soâŚI should probably go before I find a way to make this even more uncomfortable.â
âDonât take all the credit, Iâve made it pretty awkward too,â Hugo said.
âThatâs our MO, I guess.â
âNo fair using your fancy FBI lingo,â said Hugo, and Brian laughed nervously.
âSorry. Iâll stick to uhâŚcivilian terms,â he said.
âWell, take care of yourself. Donât go getting shot by a perp. Or whatever you call the bad guys.â
âNah, they donât shoot agents. Not worth the time in jail.â Why the hell was this so hard? It felt like a caricature of a conversation, and the room suddenly felt stiflingly small. âMaybe Iâll call you again sometime?â He ventured.
âSure. Iâll be here. It really was good to see you again, Brian. You knowâŚyou look just the same.â
Brian felt a lump rise in his throat. âYeah,â he managed. âYou do, too.â Closing his eyes, he turned blindly for the door, his chest aching. And some part of him wanted to do something crazy, but the other part, the carefully honed, carefully controlled part, forced one foot in front of the other, until something caught his sleeve.
Hugoâs quiet voice drifted from behind him. âBrian, donâtââ
He remembered the last time heâd heard those words. He remembered pulling away and storming out and not looking back. And spending thirteen years wishing he had.
This time he did. He turned and held out his arms and grabbed onto the hands that were waiting for him.
âSmithy,â he whispered, before their lips met, and clutched at Hugoâs hands as he fell into the kiss. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, unnoticed.
âYou remembered my old name,â Hugo said as they broke apart and he wrapped his arms around Brianâs back.
âLike I could ever forget?â Brian said, burying his face into the crook of his neck. His fingers tangled in the soft, feathery hair of Hugoâs nape as he clung to him.
Like I could ever forget any of this?Then, in a flash, the reality of the situation returned to him. Reluctantly he began to pull away, but Hugo didnât let him go.
âYou turned around this time,â he said, sounding somewhat choked. âIâm not letting you go now.â
âButâŚâ Brian shook his head, hope warring with cynicism inside him. âBut Iâve already caused you so many problems. I hurt you and I yelled at you before and IâŚcome back here and stir all that up and you have Joan to take care of and your jobsââ
Hugo ran his hand through his hair. âYou came back. All I care about is that you came back. I can make everything else work.â
Brian leaned into his hand. Hope was winning, for the first time. âYou really want me back? After I left, after all this time, I just walk in here and youâŚknow without even having to think about it that this is it?â
âIf thereâs anything I can know without having to think about it, itâs that I love you.â
âYou always were better with words than I was,â Brian murmured, no longer trying to fight it. His eyes were stinging again, with happy tears now.
âWhat does that mean?â
âIt means I love you, too. I alwaysâŚâ He reached up to kiss him again, wanting simultaneously just to be near him and yet also to pour out all the apologies and pleas and promises he felt he owed him, if only the words existed.
âI understand,â Hugo said, and he almost wanted to laugh, to say that Hugo always had been able to read him like a book, but decided not to. Not at this moment. There was time.
He entwined their hands and leaned into his shoulder, smiling.
Always.Notes: City-Data says 360 is Forksâ area code. >.> Also I named Joan's mom Renee because I am uncreative and lazy. ^^;