"Wouldn't you rather cuddle?"

Brian hadn't expected those words to be the trigger, exactly, but he had known a good old fashioned Justin Taylor queen-out was coming, and it was just as well that they did this now, before they actually tied the knot.

He let Justin rant for a minute about how much Brian had changed since the engagement, how he wasn't the same, blah blah blah, and then he cut him off with his harshest no-nonsense tone: "I hate to break it to you, Sunshine, but we cuddle all the time."

Justin stopped. Stared. Opened his mouth then closed it. "What?"

"Maybe I've never called it that before, but we cuddle all the fucking time." He scooted across the bed and grabbed Justin's wrist, pulling him back down onto the bed. He threw his arms around Justin's waist and pulled them so they were both laying down, their arms around each other, faces inches apart. "We're both tactile people. And while my favorite kind of tactile interaction with you generally involves some combination of dick and ass, or dick and mouth, or tongue and ass – you get the point – that doesn't mean I don't enjoy this part of it too."

Justin still looked uncertain, and Brian sighed, rolling his eyes and flopping his head back against the pillow, putting a bit more distance between himself and Justin, but keeping an arm wrapped tight around his waist.

"You've been looking at me for weeks now, waiting for me to have a total meltdown about getting married. You seem to be under the erroneous impression that matrimony makes my dick soft."

"Well excuse me for thinking that. You've only been ranting against the entire institution of marriage since the day we met."

"I know," Brian said simply, refusing to rise to the bait of Justin's petulance. "I know. But I told you I wanted this, and I meant it."

"You didn't tell me that you wanted this. You said you wanted to make me happy. It's not the same thing."

"Making you happy makes me happy."

"That's so lesbianic."

"So what? Look, Justin, somebody set off a fucking bomb in my club, okay? It changed things for me. As far as I knew, every person that I've ever loved was in that club, and it fucking blew up. I haven't suddenly had a personality transplant. I'm just saying things out loud now. Things I've always felt but did have the balls to admit."

"Brian – "

"I'm tired of being a hypocrite. I've always preached the no-bullshit lifestyle, but it's total bullshit to love somebody for years and never be able to tell them. So I'm done with that. I'm telling you things now, but that doesn't mean I've completely changed who I am to make you happy."

There was silence for a few moments, and then Justin spoke, a hint of humor in his voice. "That's one of the longest speeches I've ever heard from you."

"Shut up."

"Years, huh?"

"Shut up."

"How many years?"

"Now you're just fishing."

Justin didn't say anything, and Brian looked over at him, held eye contact for a long time. "I figured it out about thirty seconds before you had your head bashed in, actually."

Justin's eyes went wide. "Shit."

"Yeah. I figured you almost dying was some sort of a sign. That I should stay the hell away from you for your own good."

Justin's eyes were watery, but he was smiling. "Too bad I'm so stubborn."

"Thank God you're so stubborn," Brian said, and then he kissed him. He let himself get lost in it, pulling Justin close so their whole bodies were flush. Sometimes, as totally sappy as it seemed, Brian just wanted to find a way to keep kissing Justin forever. Nothing else, just the feeling of his lips, open, warm, drawing him in, his tongue, eagerly entwined with his own. Justin made this soft little contented sighs during long, late night make out sessions, and Brian felt like he could be happy if it was the only sound he heard for the rest of his life.

But Justin wasn't done talking. "Brian." Brian tried to chase his lips back onto his own, but he knew from the serious tone in Justin's voice that it was fruitless. "Brian, I want you to listen to me, okay?"

Brian let out a loud, dramatic sigh of frustration. "I'm listening."

"I believe you, that you want this. Marriage, all of it. And I'm sorry I was jumping to conclusions. I just got it into my head that you'd be giving up all this stuff for me, and I didn't want that."

Brian waited for the rest, but Justin paused for such a long time that he wondered if that was the end. "Okay. Good. So can we stop talking about this now?"

"No."

"Hmph."

"Brian – I don't need monogamy to be happy, you know."

That was a bit startling, but then Brian played back over the sentence again in his head, and raised an eyebrow. "But you want it."

He felt, more than saw, Justin shrug, his shoulders rubbing against the pillows. "Not really. Fucking other men has never been our problem."

At that, Brian sat up, yanking his arm out from under Justin, who made a surprised little oof as he fell deeper into the mattress. "Oh really."

"Really!" Justin insisted, sitting up now and squaring off with Brian. "I never minded you fucking other guys. Hell, I've enjoyed it. I like knowing that if I see somebody hot at the club or at Woody's I can have him. And I don't care if you feel like getting sucked off by anonymous men at the baths or whatever. That's fine with me." Justin paused again, and Brian knew he was weighing his next words carefully. "The problem was always when you'd get freaked out about us, about being in a relationship, and you'd ditch me when we were out together, or bring tricks home just to shove it in my face that you didn't need me."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"Maybe not consciously. Look, it just bothered me that you were perfectly happy staying home and eating takeout with me every once in a while, but only if it just sort of happened by accident. If I ever suggested we spend a night in, you'd get all weird and insist that you were going out."

"Okay, so you're annoyed when I don't stay in with you, and then tonight I stay in with you, and you totally freak out about it." Brian knew he sounded frustrated, but sometimes Justin was just fucking impossible.

Judging by the exasperated huff Justin had just made, he was thinking similar thoughts about Brian. "No, it's just... Okay, look, all that stuff about you pulling away from me, shutting me out... you seem to be over that. I mean, if proposing to me and buying a mansion and offering monogamy are any indication, and that's great. We don't have to deal with that bullshit anymore. But that doesn't mean you have to give up fucking other guys."

Brian considered this. "Really?"

"Really. I – " Justin cut himself off, biting his lip and breaking eye contact.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. What were you going to say?"

"It's... just... well, maybe we could establish some new rules about it."

Brian said nothing, just nodded a bit and waited for Justin to talk.

"Like... no bringing tricks back to the new house. I want that to be just for us."

"Okay," Brian said immediately. Honestly, the thought of fucking anybody else in the manor was distinctly uncomfortable. Justin smiled at Brian's quick answer, and leaned down to kiss him briefly but firmly.

"And all the old rules – no kissing on the mouth, no repeat fucks, be home by three."

"Agreed."

"And – " Justin hesitated. "If we go out together, then we can't just ditch each other on a whim. We have to let each other know where we'll be and what we're doing."

Brian saw a hint of dissatisfaction in Justin's eyes and filled in the blanks for him. "Or we could just say that if we feel like tricking when we're out together, we can share. No ditching each other, period."

Justin looked a bit startled, but then he just looked extremely happy, and Brian let himself be mauled by a very eager ball of sunshine for a couple of minutes before he pulled Justin slightly away from him. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, let the words rest on his tongue, and then said them – "I don't want you bottoming for anybody else."

This time, Justin looked totally stunned. "Does it bother you?" he asked finally.

Brian shrugged. "Didn't used to. But maybe a little."

"Huh. I had no idea." They both knew that Justin rarely bottomed for anybody else anyway, so it wasn't exactly a hardship to agree. "Okay. I don't want you sucking anybody off. Except for me. Preferably every day."

Brian laughed and pulled Justin impossibly closer to him. "Sounds good."

Brian could tell Justin was done now; his body relaxed further into Brian's arms and he was grinning so big that Brian could feel teeth against his neck.

"I have one more," Brian said quietly. He didn't really want to say it, but he knew he had to. He felt Justin nod against his shoulder. "You should go to New York."

"What?! Are you crazy? I thought you said – "

"Calm down," Brian interrupted him, grabbing at Justin before he could jump out of bed again. "What I mean is, we get married. And then we find you a little apartment somewhere in New York. And you do what you need to do there. We can figure the rest out later. It doesn't matter where we end up, right?"

"You want us to get married and then live in different cities." Justin's voice was flat. Hurt.

"No. Fuck no, I don't want to. But it's what you need right now. You just said you couldn't stand the thought of me giving anything up for you. Well I feel the same."

"Brian, I can't. I can't get married and then not live with my husband."

"It would be temporary. Look, maybe New York doesn't work out, or maybe you become insanely successful and then you move back to Pittsburg. Or maybe you figure out that LA is where you need to be, or London, or Paris, or wherever the fuck. You can't let me stop you from doing what you need to do for your career."

"I can paint anywhere."

"Okay, great. Go paint in New York, then."

"Brian."

"Justin. Lindsey's right – that article is a big deal. It just makes good business sense to take advantage of the hype and see where it takes you. I'm not saying move there permanently. I'm just saying go there and we'll take it one step at a time. Why do we need to figure out the rest of our lives right now? There's no reason for it."

Justin looked thoroughly miserable, but Brian could tell he had gotten through to him. "I hate this."

"I'm not entirely fond of it myself."

"Okay. I'll go to New York, but only if you promise me something first."

"More promises? God, you've gotten demanding."

"Shut up. Promise me you won't queen out on me and decide that I'm better off without you, and you should let me go or any of that bullshit. I'm only moving to New York if you agree that it's just one step in our lives. Our. Plural. We're sharing a life now, and I'm not letting New York ruin it."

"We're getting married, Justin. That pretty much seals the whole 'sharing a life' thing, don't you think?"

"Just promise me."

"Fine. I promise. You're not getting rid of me."

"Fuck." Brian wondered if Justin's face hurt, he was smiling so big. "I love you so much, it's crazy."

Brian tried not to smile at that, but he couldn't stop himself. He let himself relax, pressing a kiss to Justin's forehead, nose, cheek, the corner of his mouth. "Ditto."

Justin let out a big laugh. "Fucking Patrick Swayze. I always worried he'd come between us."

"Don't start. Just kiss me."

"Okay. Hubby."

"Call me that again and I'm divorcing you."

"You can't do that until we actually get married, smartass."

"I love you."

"I know."

"How the fuck can you think Harrison Ford is hotter than Patrick Swayze?" It was an old argument, but Brian didn't care. He just leaned over and started pressing kisses to Justin's neck as he gave his predictable answer.

"He's Han Solo, Brian. And Indiana Jones."

"God, you're such a heterosexual."

Justin just flattened Brian on the bed and pulled out all his best tricks to disabuse him of that notion.

They married two days later, as planned, and they fucking lived happily ever after. Fuck the rest of it.