When You Call My Name / Don't Dream It's Over | By : MidnightBlue88 Category: 1 through F > Breakfast Club Views: 4182 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Breakfast Club, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews!
Chapter Three: Interrupted
On Thursday morning, five days after his trip to the mall and four days before Christmas, Brian woke up early to go jogging.
He’d started jogging sometime at the beginning of the semester, not long after Andy left for college. After adopting some of Andy’s eating habits, he realized that he’d gained a few pounds, and he figured that it was probably unhealthy to eat like a horse if he didn’t work some kind of physical activity into his schedule. So, he started jogging.
The first time he attempted to go out for a jog, he quit after about three minutes. He made it to the park about a block and a half away, then collapsed onto the merry-go-round, completely out of breath. The next time went better, and so did the time after that. After about a month or so, he’d worked himself up to jogging for about thirty minutes at a time, three days a week. It wasn’t much, but he felt better for doing it, and he noticed after a while that his legs didn’t look so skinny anymore. Not that they were muscular or anything--he was pretty sure that he’d never reach a point in his life where anyone would consider any part of his body muscular--but he didn’t feel so much like a gawky teenager anymore, and that was a nice feeling.
But even more important than the physical benefits was the idea that maybe Andy would be proud of him if he knew that Brian was exercising. It was a silly thought, and Brian was embarrassed for thinking about it, but he couldn’t help himself. He would imagine Andy in Ohio, getting up early to go on a run, and it made him smile to think that maybe they were doing the exact same thing at the exact same moment. Sometimes he would even imagine them running together, making no noise except for the repeated sound of their feet hitting the icy ground. Another dumb idea, but somehow it made him feel connected to Andy at times when he would have done anything to be close to him again.
On Thursday morning, Brian slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a matching hooded jacket, then stepped out into the cold December air. It had rained just a little bit the night before, and the sidewalks were slick with ice. Brian did his best to run around them, but every once in a while he would hit a patch of ice and his feet would slip out from underneath him. He cursed his ratty old sneakers, with the worn-out soles that did nothing to grip the ground when he ran.
As he ran, he thought about Andy, of course. What else was he going to think about? After a week of hanging out and making out, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out what was happening between them. In fact, if anything, it was even more complicated. He’d been waiting for Andy to come back all semester, but now that he had, Brian was realizing how different their relationship was from what it had been in those months after detention. Part of that, obviously, was due to the fact that they were making out on a very regular basis, but there was other stuff, too. Andy was so different. Sometimes he would be the same person he knew from before, kind and funny and intense. But then he would say something or do something that Brian knew for a fact he would never have said or done before he left for college. It was subtle things, usually. Making fun of a stranger’s clothes, getting impatient with the cashier at a store or restaurant, listening to loud music with the windows rolled down as he drove through residential neighborhoods. Brian couldn’t really put his finger on what was going with Andy, but he thought that it probably had something to do with showing people that he didn’t care what they thought about him. Doing what he wanted and saying what he wanted and taking what he wanted, whether other people liked it or not.
Except when it came to Brian, which was the confusing part. Whenever they were together in public, everything was fine as long as Brian didn’t try to touch him or say something to him that might alert the people around them to the fact that they were more than friends. Brian understood that, he really did. He didn’t want people to know what was happening between them either, especially when he wasn’t quite sure himself. They could do things in private where no one could see them, and that was just fine with him, as long as it didn’t stop altogether.
But even when they were alone, things were still complicated. Apparently Andy had these rules about what they could or couldn’t do and when they could or couldn’t do it. The only problem was that he hadn’t seen fit to share any them with Brian, at least not verbally. A couple of days previous, Andy had come over to the house to play video games. They were talking and laughing, completely comfortable, and then Brian reached over and put a hand on the inside of Andy’s thigh. Andy had jumped, and Brian had quickly pulled his hand away, knowing that something was wrong. Andy didn’t make a big deal of it and had continued talking as though nothing had happened, but Brian knew that something had, mostly because something similar happened the next day. Andy had come over to watch a video, and when he got ready to leave, Brian leaned forward to kiss him goodbye. Even though no one else was around, Andy looked kind of shocked, like he was wondering what on earth Brian was doing. It was almost like, while they were doing “friend” things, he had forgotten what the two of them did on the baseball fields when everyone else was asleep. Like he’d forgotten that he’d had his tongue jammed down Brian’s throat the night before.
Despite his confusion, Brian didn’t say anything to Andy about any of this. Part of it was that he didn’t know what he would say if he did, but a much bigger part was that he was afraid of pushing Andy away. He’d spent nearly four months thinking about Andy--dreaming about him, obsessing over him, lusting after him--and to have him there, in the flesh, touching and kissing him like he wanted Brian just as much as Brian wanted him, was almost too good to be true. It didn’t matter that they didn’t talk about it. Confusion was better than loneliness, and he didn’t want to be lonely anymore. He’d spent four months being lonely, and he didn’t want to go back down that road.
With his thoughts to keep him occupied, Brian stayed out a little bit longer than usual, making a couple of extra laps around the park. He arrived back at the house, cold and sweating, at about seven thirty, just as his mom was leaving for work.
“She’s asleep in our bed,” Mrs. Johnson informed him as soon as he walked through the front door. She was wearing a teal print dress and black heels, and she was clipping on a pair of large silver earrings. “I think she had trouble sleeping last night, so she might stay in bed for a while.”
Brian nodded. Morgan was still young enough to sleep in their parents’ bed sometimes, especially in the mornings while they got ready for work. Their father would pick her up out of bed and carry her into their bedroom, half asleep and barely coherent. Then she would snuggle under the covers, clutching the pillow she slept with every night, and watch their mother put on her makeup and do her hair. Brian thought that she was actually kind of sweet in the morning, when she had sleep in her eyes and she was too drowsy to make annoying conversation.
“And I bought some new lunch meat if you want to make sandwiches for lunch,” said Mrs. Johnson, reaching for her purse, which was sitting on the kitchen counter. “There’s also some leftover roast from last night.”
Brian nodded. “Okay.”
She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
Mrs. Johnson threw her purse over one shoulder and grabbed her keys from the counter. She was almost out the door when Brian suddenly blurted, “Have you talked to Aunt Christine?”
She looked up, frowning. “What?”
Brian swallowed nervously. “Nothing, I was just…I was just wondering if you’d talked to her. You know, about Christmas.”
His mother’s expression flickered. “No,” she said shortly.
Brian nodded quickly. “Okay. I was just wondering.”
Mrs. Johnson paused for a moment as though she wanted to say something else, then looked away and adjusted her purse strap, pulling it closer to her body. “I’ll see you at four,” she told him.
Brian nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly.
Without saying anything else, Mrs. Johnson stepped out onto the front porch and shut the door behind her. Brian let out a deep sigh, then went to check on his sister.
---------------
That afternoon, Morgan decided that she was tired of being cooped up in the house, and she left to eat lunch with her friend Ashley, who lived right across the street. Brian started to make himself a sandwich, then thought better of it and called Andy to see if he wanted to go to Burger King.
When they arrived, it was lunchtime, so the restaurant was crowded. The two of them grabbed the last open booth and started in on their food.
“So, where is your sister?” Andy asked, opening the wrapper of his cheeseburger.
“At a friend’s house,” Brian responded. “She’ll probably be over there all afternoon. We could go watch a movie or something, if you wanted.”
Andy nodded and took a bite of his burger. Brian started unwrapping his burger, then removed his gum and stuck it on a spare napkin.
“How does it feel not to have braces anymore?”
Brian looked up. “Oh, uh…” He smiled. “It’s really nice. I had them removed about a month ago maybe? It’s been kind of weird getting used to it, you know? Sometimes I run my tongue over my teeth…” He opened his mouth wide to demonstrate, and Andy laughed. “…and it feels like there should be something there, but there isn’t.”
Andy smiled. “It looks good.”
Brian paused uncertainly, wondering if he’d heard him wrong. “It does?”
Andy nodded. “Yeah, you look…” He paused awkwardly, then cleared his throat. “Your teeth look good without them.”
Brian could feel himself blushing. “Thanks.”
Andy nodded stiffly and took a drink from his soda. “So, uh, what about Christmas? What’s going on with your mom’s family?”
Brian sighed. “I don’t know. My mom and her sister, they had that fight last week, remember?”
Andy nodded. “Sure.”
Brian nodded. “Well, I think it had something to do with my aunt wanting to have Christmas over at her house instead of ours. I don’t know why, but she does. Anyway, my mom got really mad. She says that Christine is always expecting everyone else to switch their plans around just so it will be more convenient for her.” He paused. “Or something.”
Andy frowned. “So, because of that, you guys just won’t see them for Christmas?”
Brian shrugged. “I guess not,” he said glumly.
“That seems kind of…extreme.”
“I don’t know,” Brian responded. “They’ve never really gotten along very well, especially since my grandmother died. It seems like this happens at every holiday.”
“Really?” Andy chuckled. “That sounds like my family then. My dad and my aunt Maggie are always fighting. Sometimes I wonder why they even bother.”
Brian sighed. “Family.”
Andy scoffed. “Yeah.”
Brian was quiet for a minute, watching him eat. Finally, he said, “So, how’s it been with your dad?”
Andy looked up quickly, his eyes betraying his surprise and his jaw betraying his answer. “It’s been fine,” he said shortly.
Brian nodded slowly. “Have you two talked at all?”
Andy shrugged. “Not really.”
Andy’s tone suggested that he really didn’t want to talk about his father, at least not yet. Brian knew that he probably would eventually, but that it usually took him a while to get to a point where he was comfortable discussing whatever was bothering him. Andy didn’t offer up much information about his problems unless he was pressured into it, but Brian had never been very good at pressuring anyone to do anything. He supposed that the only reason Andy told him anything was that he trusted him, for whatever reason.
Brian picked up his hamburger again and took another bite. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.
Suddenly, Brian felt his and Andy’s knees brush against one another under the table, and a jolt of electricity went through his leg. Quickly, he pulled his leg away so that they weren’t touching anymore. He knew that Andy wasn’t comfortable with Brian touching him in public, and he didn’t want him to react the same way he had in the toy store when they were Christmas shopping.
But he had no sooner moved his leg when he felt Andy’s knee pressing against his again. Brian glanced up, but Andy was staring at the milkshake in his hand and not at Brian. Even so, Brian felt Andy press his knee harder against Brian’s, so hard that it had to be deliberate. Brian felt a strain of lust coil itself around his stomach, though he really couldn’t say why. It was just their knees, but somehow that didn’t matter. It was Andy’s knee, and they were sitting in the middle of a crowded fast food restaurant, and Brian couldn’t focus on a goddamn thing.
Suddenly, Andy looked up at him, and their eyes locked together. Brian realized that his breathing had grown irregular and that he was practically panting.
“You want to get out of here?” Andy asked quietly, and Brian nodded, too busy trying not to hyperventilate to say anything.
The ride back to Brian’s house was silent. Neither of them tried to touch the other, but Brian could feel the tension in the air, louder than anything they could have said. When they arrived back at his house, he climbed out of Andy’s Bronco, landing in the grass with shaky feet. He spotted Morgan across the street, playing hopscotch on the driveway with her friend, and he waved at her, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Is that your sister?” Andy asked, squinting into the sun.
Brian nodded and fumbled with his house keys. “Yeah.”
“Is anyone else home?”
Brian shook his head and pushed open the door. “No, both of my parents are at work. My mom won’t be home until nearly four.” He led Andy into the house, then closed the door behind him.
As soon as the door was closed, Andy grabbed Brian by the collar of his sweater and slammed him against the wall. Before Brian could say or do anything, Andy was pressed up against him, kissing him roughly. Even though part of him was expecting it, Brian was so surprised that he hardly knew what to do, but he didn’t try and push him away. Instead, he surrendered to the kiss and returned it with just as much feeling as Andy was giving it.
After a few seconds, Andy released Brian’s collar, and both of them broke away. They stared at one another for a short second, both breathing heavily, before Brian grabbed Andy by the sleeve and pulled him down the hall to his bedroom.
Brian shut the door behind them, and Andy grabbed Brian by the waist, pulling him in for another kiss. Andy took a step forward, and Brian felt the back of his knees hit the edge of his mattress. Another small push and both of them tumbled down onto the bed together, Andy on top. He leaned forward and brought their faces together, forcing Brian’s lips open with his own.
After a moment, Brian wrapped his arms around Andy’s back and flipped them over so that he was on top. His legs fell open, and Andy nudged one of his knees into the gap, pressing his denim-clad thigh against Brian’s crotch. Brian let out a loud, sudden moan, which was quickly muffled by Andy’s mouth. Andy’s hands were at Brian’s waist, fingers skimming Brian’s belt buckle, pushing Brian’s t-shirt up so that he could press his cold hands against his warm stomach. Brian felt a shiver go down his spine.
And then Andy wasn’t just pushing Brian’s shirt up, he was taking it off. Brian was so stunned that he stopped kissing Andy for a few seconds, which only gave Andy better access. He yanked the shirt up to Brian’s armpits, and Brian had no choice but to help him slip it off. Andy tossed the shirt onto the floor and turned back to kiss him again. His knee was still pressed against Brian’s groin, denim against denim, and Brian was finding it harder and harder to catch his breath. Another kiss, hard and desperate, Andy’s thumbs pressing against his abdomen and--
“Brian!”
Brian froze, his face hovering just inches above Andy’s. Andy’s eyes were wide with fear, just like Brian’s probably were.
“Brian!” Morgan called out again. He heard the front door slam, and then someone giggling.
“Shit!” Brian muttered, climbing off of the bed and grabbing his shirt from the floor. “I’m here!” he shouted, tugging it over his head. He looked back at Andy, who had jumped up from the bed and was straightening his collar, raking his hand through his tousled hair. They exchanged brief glances before the bedroom door burst open.
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked. Her friend Ashley was standing behind her, glancing back and forth between the two boys. Brian felt like he’d just swallowed his own heart.
“Nothing!” he exclaimed, the words coming out louder and squeakier than he’d intended. “We were just…” He let out a shaky breath. “Just…”
“…about to play video games,” Andy finished for him.
Brian let out a relieved breath. “Yeah, video games.”
Morgan didn’t react to that. “Ashley’s going to play over here,” she informed him.
Brian nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah, no problem. Have fun.”
Morgan frowned doubtfully, then shut the door behind her.
Neither of them said anything for a long time. Brian could hear his sister and her friend talking in the next room over, but the only other sound was coming from his own heart, beating so loudly that he was pretty sure Andy could hear it. He looked over to see that Andy was staring at the doorway, trying to get his own breathing under control. When he realized that Brian was watching him, he glanced over at him. They stared at one another for a long moment, both of them silent.
“I guess I should go,” Andy said finally.
Brian nodded, disappointed. “Yeah, okay.”
Brian walked him back to the front door. Andy pulled out his keys and flipped through them slowly, searching for the right one.
“I’ll see you later,” said Brian, forcing himself to sound casual.
Andy nodded, but didn’t look up. The key to his car was pinched between his thumb and index finger, but for some reason he was still fumbling with the others. “See you,” he said distractedly, stepping out onto the front porch.
Brian watched Andy’s Bronco until it turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared from his sight. When it was gone, he let out a deep breath and turned to shut the door.
Before he could close it all the way, Morgan came running in from the hallway, with Ashley at her heels. “Bye!” she shouted.
Brian frowned and stepped out of her way. “Bye?” he echoed.
“We’re going back to Ashley’s house!” she called over her shoulder. Before Brian could answer, she stepped out onto the front porch and slammed the door behind her.
When she was gone, Brian leaned back against the wall, the exact same spot that Andy had pushed him up against not five minutes before. He could still feel Andy’s hands at his waist, tugging his t-shirt up over his head, skimming his fingers over his belt buckle. If Morgan hadn’t come back, if they hadn’t been interrupted…
Brian let out a frustrated sigh and went into the living room to watch television.
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