Cyndra Rae (cyndrarae) wrote,
Cyndra Rae

Mutant X: Blues (B/J) - 6: Its probably me

Previous chapter

~Club Insomnia, DC.~

When Brennan reached the bar, the woman behind it greeted him with her sultriest smile.
~Not tonight love. Not any night.~
Brennan cordially smiled back in response, demanded the glass of water he needed… fielded her raised eyebrows – just water?
“With ice.”
She smirked and turned away. Brennan glanced around, admiring the cool ambience. Sure was a certain *character* to the club as Jesse had so eloquently recommended. Heads thrown back in reckless abandon, bodies scented in sweat and lust melting into each other… men and women, human and mutant. Music, Brennan decided, was definitely the best unifier. And spirit the best equalizer.

When the world's gone crazy
and it makes no sense,
There's only one voice that comes to your defence,
The jury's out
and your eyes search the room,
And one friendly face is all you need to see…

The glass of water (with ice) arrived and Brennan was about to make his way back when he felt a solid hand grip his shoulder from behind.
“Mulwray…? Brennan Mulwray!”
Brennan turned and his mouth fell open in surprise. Then genuine delight.
Long lost friends clasped hands, greeting each other when Brennan noticed other familiar faces in the hitherto nameless crowd.
“What are you…? Davison! Oh my God, Korso!!”
The men were as surprised to see their old buddy Brennan and surrounded him with sheer excitement and nostalgia. Brennan shook hands with all and practically lifted the man called Korso off his feet.
“Jeez I cant believe what I’m seeing! You guys!”
“Where the hell have you been man?”
“You take off just like that, not one damn word to your brothers hey sparky boy?”

Korso was the only one who knew about Brennan’s mutant powers and it was a secret nickname he had for this friend he was extremely fond of. They’d pulled off great many heists, made way too much green during their times together.
Brennan’s old gang… old life, one he left behind when he came to the Sanctuary. The decision was never regretted, but his friends were sorely missed. Korso was the closest he had to a brother. Out on the streets, you watch out for your own… his friends were all the family Brennan knew after his mother died.
“What’re you guys doing in DC?”
“Dorian as usual and his shitbomb ideas man.”
“Cant believe we fall for them every damn time.”
“What this time Dor?”
…the stories began to unfold. Glass of water momentarily forgotten, ice melting in the warmth of his hand.

Jesse finally clawed his way out of the gyrating crowd and found a clear view of the bar. Brennan was there… surrounded by three men dressed in worn jeans and leather jackets. Laughing and talking and having a *wonderful* time. Old buddies?
One side of his head still throbbing, Jesse did not know what to expect as he slowly walked his way towards his boyfriend trying his best not to swagger. For a brief moment, Brennan looked his way and caught his eye. What Jesse saw in the brandy brown eyes… he never wanted to see again.

Brennan lost in the past… life on the streets wasn’t always great, but the camaraderie he shared with his fellow miscreants was something else. And then the sight of… Jesse… forced him right back into the present.
Brennan panicked.
When their eyes met, he did the only thing he could think of at the moment.

~Not now Jess.~

Jesse started. For the briefest moment, he stopped… almost turned… and then the moment passed. The look on Jesse’s face became one not of confusion or… or even distress. Suave… or perhaps numb… Jesse did not stumble, did not stop his feet as they continued toward the earmarked destination. Just kept walking…

~Jesse please! Go away!~

Brennan turned around to the bar and ordered a round of beer for his buddies. Clammy hands clutched at the counter… wondering what he would do if Jesse did come up to him… how would he explain his new and improved sex life to the gang he once ran with?

You're not the easiest person I ever got to know
And it's hard for us both to let our feelings show
Some would say I should let you go your way
You'll only make me cry…

“Scotch. Double, straight up please.”
Guilt. Disgust. Not enough.
Brennan did not look at the pale figure leaning against the counter quite next to his present company. Shouldn’t be drinking, he absently noted.

The boys meanwhile continued to bicker and laugh and recount every adventure they could think of as they slugged down the beers. One particular story had turned to Brennan’s *natural charms* and brilliant seduction skills.
“I see you’re still hot with the women?”
The object of discussion was slightly distracted. When he threw Dorian a questioning glance, he got a suggestive nod towards the sexy bartender who continued to leer at Brennan suggestively. When he looked at her, she threw him another one of her kill looks. Ignored her completely and turned back around to face his friends.
“Not my type.” explained sheepishly.
Davison… usually the quiet one… laughed, sitting to the right of Brennan facing a direction where he could easily see Jesse on the opposite side. He’d noticed the strange boy glancing forlornly at Brennan just that once.
“Or have your tastes changed to something like the little nance over there?” He commented, eyes twinkling with mischief.

~That obvious huh?~
Brennan panicked once more, wondering if something he did or said had given him away. He glanced at Jesse, who was just finishing his drink… digging hands into his trouser pockets looking for change to pay. He looked away instantly.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Struck home.
He gulped his beer down.

Korso and the rest turned to look at who they were referring to. Feeling their glares on him, Jesse looked up in return, eyes blank. Numb. And Korso snorted.
“Wrong number kid, go find other faggots to play with.”

Brennan broke a sweat, dug nails into his palms and resisted looking up from his favorite spot at the bottom of his beer bottle. A calm voice with an underlying tremble only Brennan could recognize, floated to his ears and they burned.
“Don’t worry. Not my type.”

If there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
It's hard to say it
It's hard to say it, but it's probably me.

He should have moved. He should have stopped Jesse, stopped and apologized and kissed him and held him till he was forgiven. But he didn’t. Ever so quietly, Jesse collected his jacket and slipped out into the night.


Next chapter

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