Not the Same
It was later the night they'd tried to catch the cop, Rounds One and Two already come and gone, when Justin propped his chin up in his hand to stare down at Brian, that endless smirk on the older man's face despite being half-asleep.
"Was I that bad?"
"Hm?"
The blond ran a hand absentmindedly up Brian's chest, remembering. "When we met, I mean. Hunter's… annoying. And persistent as hell. If I was that way back then, I get why Michael hated me."
"It's different," Brian muttered, fingers tangling with with the lighter ones now resting on his shoulder.
"How? I was a seventeen-year-old kid, who wouldn't take 'fuck off' for an answer. I kept showing up and showing up and showing up. Why didn't you boot me out the door, or blow me off the way you have no trouble doing to Hunter?"
Brian was finally starting to wake up and groaned, rolling over to grab a cigarette and lighter. He didn't plan to answer. As usual, though, he could feel that endlessly curious gaze focused on his back. Eventually, he blew out a long stream of smoke, then -doing his best to make it sound unimportant- answered, "It's different because you're you, Sunshine."
That was as closed as Brian ever planned to get to telling Justin that he cared about him. But when he glanced back, he found that it was apparently enough, because he was met with that bright, brilliant smile that led to the nickname. It lit up the younger man's face.
That stupid, fucking smile, those gorgeous, intelligent blue eyes, the eternal hope lurking under the surface no matter how shitty things got…
There were a million reasons, none of which Brian would explain aloud, for why he was fucked. A million reasons he knew now that, no matter what happened, he would never quite give up wanting Justin at his side, in life and in bed.
And enough already with the sentimental bullshit, even in his head.
He stubbed out the cigarette and yanked Justin on top of him. "You know, Sunshine, I believe I still owe you an orgasm or two."
The artist laughed, mouth wide and eyes crinkling at the edges. "Actually, it was a hundred blowjobs, but I'll take what I can get."
Well, in that case, never let it be said that Brian Kinney wasn't a man of his sexual word.