not sisabet (notsisabet) wrote,
not sisabet

You know what's really really fun about working for an insurance company?


Therefore, I must entertain myself all day with thoughts of a terminally!ill!Justin!

Justin swallows.

Brian - Better?

Justin gets up from where he was kneeling on the living room floor.

Justin - You know, I think you were right. The blood is coming out of my ears much more slowly now. I think I'm healing!

Justin grins, and then passes out, falling to the floor with a thud.

Brian - Huh.

Brian walks over to the refrigerator, gets a bottle of water, and dumps it over Justin's head. Justin slowly regains consciousness.

Justin - That was...different.
Brian - This illness is getting really dull.

Justin stands up.

Justin - I'm sorry, Brian, but it wasn't my idea to get Ebola.
Brian - How the fuck did you catch Ebola anyway?

Justin shrugs.

Justin - I don't know, especially since the virus isn't usually seen in North America. It's native only in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, which was formerly called Zaire.
Brian - Now you're doing that thing where you need to shut up.
Justin - If you're lucky, I might pass out again soon.
Brian - Don't. I hate wasting good bottled water.

Justin coughed up a bit of blood into the palm of his hand, and then smiled.

Justin - Aww, you're worried about me.
Brian - No, I'm worried about the blood you're getting on my hardwood floor.
Justin - You love me. You love me so much that you can't stand to see me bleeding from all my orifices.

Brian rolls his eyes.

Brian - Is that passing-out thing likely to happen anytime soon? Because if not, I'm going out.
Justin - You love me so much that you blink every time I vomit, which I know is the Brian Kinney equivalent of weeping uncontrollably.
Brian - Fuck you. I didn't blink.
Justin - You blinked, ha ha, you blinked cause you love --

Justin passes out again.

Brian - About fucking time.

Brian goes back into the kitchen and has a glass of orange juice. All this drama is making him dehydrated. When he returns to the living room, Justin is still lying unconscious on the floor. Brian sighs, and picks up the phone.

It's not that he cares if Justin lies unconscious on the floor. Justin can lie unconscious on the floor all fucking night for all Brian cares. But eventually Brian will have to get dressed, go out to Babylon, get a blow job in the back room, get high, and fuck some guy in the alley behind Babylon. And after all this, when he gets home, if Justin is still lying unconscious on the floor, Brian might trip over his body and get blood all over his favorite white shirt. So he's really only calling for help because he loves his clothes. He loves his clothes so much that it pains him to see them bloody and weak, pale and moaning, and also, um, wrinkled. Brian thinks about his clothes some more, blinks a few times, and then calls 911.

As he waits for the ambulance to arrive, Brian gets bored, and so he calls Michael.

Brian - Hi Mikey.
Michael - Dammit, Brian! For the last time -- we're not switching bodies again just so you can suck your own cock.
Brian - Nah, I'm over sucking my own cock. It's more fun when other people suck it. That way it's always a surprise, you know? I think it would lose its mystery if I knew all my own moves ahead of time.
Michael - Is that all you called to tell me?
Brian - Huh? Oh. No, there's a thing.
Michael - What kind of thing?
Brian - You know the drill. Justin, pool of blood, ambulance, meet me at the hospital, et cetera.
Michael - Christ. Can't you two do something original?
Brian - Hey! Do I mock your big emotional moments?
Michael - Yes.
Brian - Oh, right.

Next time - the wacky adventures of Brian and Justin at the emergency room. Theyreloveissoinneedoftriage.
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