Let Love In, a queer as folk fanfic

New York had agreed with Justin. More than agreed. In fact, Justin loved it in that city more than he ever thought he could. Sleeping on a lumpy couch for the first few months had been awful, true. And his roommates were anxious for him to find somewhere else to stay from the get go. Not that he was in the apartment often. He had gotten a job at a diner much like the one back in Pittsburgh a day after he moved. Within weeks he had found a tiny studio in a terrible neighborhood that he could afford to rent as a place to work. After that, he only spent a few hours a night in the apartment, just long enough to shower and sleep a bit. The rest of his time he was working, or painting obsessively. In a month he had five large canvases finished. Five canvases he had found a gallery to sell. Five canvases he had put his heart and soul into. Five canvases that got destroyed when somebody broke into the small loft. Five canvases gone. Not to mention all the painting supplies that had been strewn around the room, broken, or the paint that had been poured all over the floors and walls. He had walked in, taken one look around, and had to go back out into the hall. If he stayed in that room he was going to have a panic attack.

He had shoved his hand into his pain stained jeans and pulled out his phone, dialing the only number he could remember at the moment. Brian had answered his phone without looking at the incoming number Justin knew, otherwise he wouldn't have answered at all. The older man was determined to keep Justin at an arms length until he had made it in the art world, so that he wouldn't give up and come home. Justin had told Brian what had happened, all the work that was destroyed, how he didn't know what he was going to do, that he couldn't afford to pay the rent without those canvases to sell much less replace all those supplies, told him how much he missed him and that he hated New York, and that he was coming home, that he had to come home. Brian had listened quietly to Justin's tearful confession, and then laughed. And Justin knew, in that moment, that Brian would never let him come home until he had made it. It had hurt like hell, listening to Brian laugh at him as if he was a five year old who was crying after spilling something, but he knew the man well enough to know that he was doing it for his own good. Two days later he received a check in the mail for quite a lot of money from Kinnetic with a note apologizing that it had taken so long for him to receive payment for his services rendered in naming the company.

Knowing Brian wouldn't take the money back, and that if he didn't cash the check he would just send another, Justin moved out of the apartment and had a security system installed in the loft. He managed to fit one small lumpy mattress in the room and replaced all of his supplies. A few months later he began to sell pieces, and he began to love the city. One year after going to New York he was featured in a show of new artists. Eight months after that he had his own show, with all his own pieces, and every single one sold. The newspapers and magazines had announced it soon after, it was official. Justin had made it. Which brought him to where he was now, standing in the falling snow under a street light, alone. The cold and holiday spirit had driven everyone inside with loved ones. The light shining down made him look angelic as he smiled, pushing his hair off of his face as he looked up toward the building he was currently standing in front of. He loved Christmas.

You wait, wanting this world
To let you in
And you stand there
A frozen light
In dark and empty streets

Two years. It had been two years since Brian Kinney had woken up in his bed, alone. Two years since the sun had gone out of his life. The only sun that mattered to him, anyway. Two years of burying himself in his work, staying at the office for as long has he could just to avoid the empty loft he knew was waiting for him. Or even worse, the house he had bought for them. Every once in a while, early on, when he couldn't stand the thought of going back to the loft he would make the half hour drive to the country estate of Justin's dreams. He had stopped that quickly though, as it was far worse than the loft. Too big, more empty space. Empty space that was empty because of him. Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so goddamned much?

At first he had done what he always did when he didn't want to think about something. Drink. Trick. E. Whatever he could find that would get his mind off the blond that he missed more than he ever dreamed he would. None of it had made any difference though. He still missed him just as much, and every day was still agony. After a few months he had stopped going out every night, opting instead to work late. As his ad agency had taken on more and more clients he had refused to hire anybody else to help share the load, he needed the distraction. Half the time he didn't even go home at night anymore, rather he would just fall asleep on the couch in his office, waking up just a few hours later to a hot cup of coffee from either Cynthia or Ted, whoever happened to get to the office first. They took care of him, dealt with his constant horrid moods, fixed his mistakes when he was working on only an hour or two of sleep. Why they did it though he didn't understand, but he never bothered to ask. He didn't care about the answer. He just made sure to give them small fortunes for their Christmas bonuses.

Christmas was easily his least favorite time of the year. Cold, snow, good cheer. All of it was bullshit. And so Christmas eve found him alone in his loft drinking whiskey straight from the bottle with his cell off and the door firmly locked. Debbie had informed him, with quite a bit of swearing involved, that he would be attending the Christmas festivities with the rest of their extended incestuous family at her house tonight. If Gus had been there then he would have gone, but the little boy and his lezzy mommies weren't coming to Pittsburgh until New Years. And so he had locked himself in the loft and turned off his phone, determined not to be disturbed while he drank himself into a stupor and passed out. Maybe tonight he wouldn't dream about Justin. That would be the best gift Santa could give him.

You smile hiding behind
A God-given face
But I know you're so much more
Everything they ignore
Is all I need to see

Justin took the stairs two at a time, brushing snow off his shoulders and head as he went. The building hadn't changed, though looking back he couldn't figure out why it had scared him so much seven years earlier. So much had changed since that night… he couldn't even begin to imagine where his life would be right now if Brian hadn't picked him up outside Babylon that night. He would have gone home, back to his parents, gone to school to become a business man… all of his dreams would have been left lying on Liberty avenue, even if he hadn't known it then. Brian saved him before he even knew he needed to be saved. The older man was the one and only reason Justin had become an artist. Yes he had helped him after the bashing, had paid for art school, had sent him off to New York and kept him there, but that wasn't why he was an artist. He was an artist because Brian had made him want to be the best he could be, fuck anyone else who might get in the way, Brian himself included. Nobody else saw that. Nobody looked at Brian when he pushed Justin away and wanted to comfort him. Nobody knew how much it hurt him to do it. Nobody except Justin.

You're the only one I ever believed in
The answer that could never be found
The moment you decided to let love in
Now I'm banging on the door of an angel
The end of fear is where we begin
The moment we decided to let love in

An hour ago Michael had come by, pounding on the door and yelling at Brian that if he didn't open the door this second he was going to come in anyways. Little did he know Brian had changed the lock for just that reason. He wanted to be alone tonight to sulk in his misery, something he hadn't allowed himself to do for a while. When Michael had discovered that his key was worthless he had yelled quite a bit more, his anger shifting to Justin, knowing that if anything was going to get a rise out of Brian that would be in. He yelled through the door that Brian hadn't been himself since Justin left, and how dare the little bastard walk away from Brian Kinney and he deserved to be dead and that hopefully he would freeze to death or get mugged in New York. And with every accusation he made, Brian simply took another drink from the bottle rather than do what he wanted to do, rip Michael's head off. After all, he reasoned with himself, the last thing he needed was blood all over his nice clean loft.

After at least half an hour Michael had stormed off, yelling something about Brian ruining Christmas and he had finally been left in silence. Now, however, it seemed that he had come back, as he could hear somebody coming up the stairs. They hesitated a moment before knocking though, something Michael wouldn't do. Had they really sent somebody else to fetch him? The nock was quiet but demanding, just like Justin's.

Shaking his head violently at that thought he downed another swallow of the dark liquid and sunk down lower in the chair, closing his eyes. Justin was in New York, probably with some other guy right now, cuddled up beneath a Christmas tree. And he, the infamous Brian Kinney, was alone.

I wish
Wishing for you to find your way
And I'll hold on for all you need
That's all we need to say

There was no answer. No noise from within. Nothing at all. For a moment Justin thought maybe Brian was at Debbie's house with everyone else, but immediately discarded that thought. He knew the man hated Christmas, and hated being forced to spend time with the overly cheerful family even more. Work, maybe? But he discarded that possibility just as quickly. Cynthia and Ted wouldn't allow it. And since all the clubs were closed for the holiday, that only left this place. Maybe he was sleeping? He knocked again, louder this time. How would he react, seeing him there? He would be surprised, that was for sure. As he stood there, waiting for the door to open, he felt the first traces of nervousness. He hadn't seen Brian in two years. Hadn't talked to him for nearly as long. What if he didn't want Justin to come back? What if his feelings had changed? Brian had pushed him away a hundred times before, but what if this time had been different? What if he didn't love him anymore?

I'll take my chances while
You take your time with
This game you play
But I can't control your soul
You need to let me know
You leaving or you gonna stay

The knock came again, but nobody yelled through the door at him. Not a part of the family then. But who? He hadn't brought anyone home for months, so nobody could have left something behind. He hadn't ordered any food, had he? It was difficult to remember through his drunken haze, but he wasn't hungry so he decided that no, he hadn't ordered any food. Besides, delivery guys wouldn't know the code to get into the building.

He didn't know why, but he felt like he needed to answer it. That if he didn't then nothing would ever be right again. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the ridiculous notion, but it didn't work, and he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Wearing only his jeans he padded softly across the room, stopping only to set the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

Now he was really starting to get worried. What had he been thinking? Of course Brian would have moved on. After all, he was nothing more than a trick who had practically stalked him after getting fucked. Brian wouldn't wait around for anyone, especially not him. Hell, he may not even live in the loft anymore. For all Justin knew a family with three kids and a dog lived there now. He was an idiot. He never should have come. He turned to leave, but stopped when he heard the sound of a bottle being set on the counter. He had come this far, he might as well just make sure… unconsciously he began biting his thumb nail as he leaned his head gently against the cool metal of the door. His heart hadn't raced this fast since… well since the last time he had seen Brian.

There's nothing we can do about
The things we have to do without
The only way to feel again
Is let love in

It wasn't Justin. There was no way it could be Justin. Justin was in New York. Justin was curled up in front of a fire with some guy who was romantic. Some guy who brought him flowers. Hell he was probably curled up with the fiddler. Wouldn't that just be a perfectly ironic ending? Brian pushing the most important thing away to the same guy, twice. Yes. Justin was curled up with the fiddler right now. And a puppy. The fiddler had, of course, gotten him a puppy for Christmas. A happy little fiddle playing puppy owning family. And yet, he found himself unlocking the door, but pausing before opening it, one hand resting on the metal. It wasn't going to be Justin on the other side. And it was going to hurt like hell. Because he wanted it to be Justin on the other side more than anything.

There's nothing we can do about
The things we have to live without
The only way to see again
Is let love in

He heard the lock turn on the other side of the door and jerked his head up, barely daring to breath. This was a mistake. A huge mistake. Brian was going to be in there with some guy. Or even worse, it wouldn't be Brian at all. No, it would be Brian, but he would be the Brian he had been in the very beginning. The one who told Justin he would see him in his dreams. He would be horrible, he would laugh at the fact that Justin had come to see him. Laugh at the fact that Justin still loved him, and that he thought Brian would still love him. He would laugh, and he would shut the door in his face. And Justin would break. Because even if Brian did just that, he would still love him. He would always love him. And it would kill him.

You wait, wanting this world,

To let you in
You're the only one I ever believed in
The answer that could never be found
The moment you decided to let love in
Now I'm banging on the door of an angel

Taking a deep breath Brian pulled the door open, keeping his eyes closed for just a moment, imagining blond hair and blue eyes greeting him. And when he opened his eyes, he immediately closed them again. This wasn't good, he was hallucinating. Apparently he was more fucked up than he thought. But when he opened his eyes again, it didn't go away. It was Justin, standing there, snow still on his shoulders, biting his thumbnail, looking absolutely terrified.

Justin looked at the other man nervously, waiting for his reaction. It felt like hours, standing there, unable to look anywhere except for into Brian's swirling brown eyes. Eyes that were red and exhausted. And it was then that he stopped doubting himself. Nothing had changed. Brian still loved him. He didn't know how exactly he knew, but he did. He wasn't sure who moved first, whether it was him or Brian, but the next thing he knew he was wrapped in his arms, and he buried his head in Brian's shoulder. He had missed this more than anything else, being held like he would never be let go. Knowing he never really would be. This was where he belonged.

Brian still didn't quite believe it was all real. It had been so long, but nothing was different. He still loved the boy. Even he wasn't sure he still would. But he did. After two years, he did. He always would. Pulling him tighter against him he could feel their heartbeats, both racing, pounding at the same time.

"You aren't going back to New York." it wasn't a question. It was an order.

"I'm staying here." it wasn't a question either. It was an order. Justin smiled up at Brian, and for the first time in two years Brian felt warm. The sun was back in his life.

The end of fear is where we begin
The moment we decided to let love in

The moment we decided to let love in

A/N: I hope you guys liked it! The song is 'Let Love In' by the Goo Goo Dolls, and pretty much as soon as I heard it I decided I had to write a songfic for it. So, here we go!