Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own QAF or what happened tonight would have NEVER happened. I do not take credit for "You Are My Sunshine" the song.

Rating: Possibly the most rated R thing I have ever written.

A/N: Thirty five minutes ago I was crying, mourning the break up between Brian and Justin, thinking if they don't get back together (keep in mind that this is the final season) I will sue someone's ass off and be bitter for the rest of my life. I was cursing my friend because she wouldn't let me get off of the phone so I could watch it and now I am in the biggest state of awe. How the fuck could they do that to us? Am I the only one that is outraged? And if anyone else found that the song "You Are My Sunshine" was the most ironic thing to play EVER at the end of that episode. So that song inspires this fic and about what should have happened when Justin and Brian met on the street and Brian couldn't say three fucking words. If the line "You'll never know, dear, how much I love you" is true, I might just die.

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine.

You make me happy

When skies are grey.

You'll never know dear

How much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away.

The other night, dear,

As I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms.

When I awoke, dear,

I was mistaken

And I hung my head and cried.

Chorus

I'll always love you

And make you happy

If you will only say the same

But if you leave me

To love another

You'll regret it all some day.

Chorus.

You told me once, dear,

You really loved me

And no one else could come between

But now you've left me

And love another

You have shattered all my dreams.

Chorus.

Chapter One: What's the Problem?

There was so much for him to say but he couldn't find the words for him to say it and nor could he find his voice, only his annoying yet casual and almost bored façade. Every part of him screamed for him to stop being such a pansy and to just tell the little shit that he fucking loved him, always had, always would but for some reason, Brian couldn't say the three words.

There was nothing stopping him from saying them. The only thing that could possibly be his downfall would be his reputation. Admitting his undying love for a twentysomething blond who could give head better than anyone Brian knew, meant that he had to give up tricking and his reputation of being the hottest man at Babylon who wasn't taken. He was a few years into his thirties and eventually the drugs, the booze, and the lifestyle would catch up to him. He would start to want to come home to his lover, his only lover, and want to live a lifestyle more suitable for his age. But Brian found himself realizing that he already was starting to want those things. He loved coming home to Justin and only Justin, sharing his bed with Justin, and just living with him.

So instead of acknowledging his idiocy and telling Justin that he loved him, Brian walked along down the street towards his place and didn't look back as the blond retreated his own separate way.

By the time that Brian had gotten back to the loft, he felt like he was going to fall apart into tiny Brian pieces. He slammed the door shut behind him, rested his head back against it, and slid to floor. Shoulders beginning to shake, head resting on his knees, Brian broke down for the first time in an extremely long time and let everything go.

He thought about Michael saying to him "Who wouldn't leave you?" and that Justin had left because of him. Brian fucking knew it was because of him but suddenly when Michael said it, he knew it was true and automatically, Brian had to deny it. Brian thought about how calm, how relieved almost, Justin looked when he saw him on the street. The kid looked like he'd won a million bucks and like he didn't have a care in the world. Didn't he miss him? Didn't he care at all that they were no longer together?

Brian rested his temple on his knees, looking off to the side. Immediately, he saw the chaise and starting to cry even harder. The chair was Justin and Brian's and only theirs. Brian, if he ever brought a trick home, would never dare to fuck anyone else but Justin in that chair. It was solely theirs and almost sacrilege to be used for anyone else but the two of them.

A little over an hour later, after thinking of everything that was Justin- his eyes, his hair, his smile, his laughter, his sketches, the first time they kissed, the first time they fucked, and every other thing that Brian could subject himself to for misery's sake- Brian awkwardly stood up and stumbled to the bedroom. He stripped himself, practically ripping off his clothes, and sank into the depths of the bed, soaking the pillow with his tears within minutes.

In the middle of the night when Brian had finally gotten to sleep, he reached for Justin and woke up when he found that he wasn't there. He had completely forgotten what had happened only the other day and was now searching the loft for the kid, beginning to call his name. It took him five minutes to realize that Justin wasn't there, that Justin probably would never be there.

He looked into his bedroom and at the bed dejectedly. Normally, he would see blond hair against imported navy colored Egyptian silk sheets, a body entwined in them begging to be touched but tonight there was nothing, nobody.

Brian snatched up the blanket and hauled his ass to the couch, throwing off the pillows angrily. There was no way he could sleep in that bed where he and Justin had slept together for the past few years, had fucked each other and laid there just talking lightly while caressing.

It took Brian another two hours to fall asleep, only a few minutes before dawn, and when he heard the alarm for him to wake up after he felt like he had just closed his eyes, he cursed at it. Walking naked to the bedroom, he beat the machine into submission and then grabbed the phone punching in the numbers for work.

"I'm not coming in today or tomorrow," he said once Cynthia picked up the phone and then hung up.

The bathroom seemed so far away when he looked at but he told himself that he needed a shower right then almost more than he needed to breathe. He stayed in until the water ran cold and then even after that for a few more minutes. Coming out shivering and soaking wet, he dried himself off, grabbed a pair of sweats and threw on a black t-shirt that fit his form well.

This was why he didn't do break ups, he told himself as he rifled through the fridge and fought shit all. He had gotten attached, gotten accustomed to a lifestyle, and had actually fallen in love despite how much he tried to refuse it. Where did he end up? Not at the end of the aisle, that's for sure. He ended heartbroken and miserable for a good reason for once. What he knew, however, was that he could have prevented all of that by doing something and it wasn't not fucking Justin the second time. All he had to do was tell the kid that he loved him and all would be settled.

Knowing that everyone would be at the diner, he grabbed his keys, his jacket, and slipped into a pair of sandals that he rarely wore. He didn't care that he wasn't dressed to the nines like usual; there was no one to impress any more.

The diner was teeming with people as it usually was at that hour of the morning and when Brian walked in, Debbie barely recognized him. He still wore the t-shirt, sweats, sandals, and a jacket but she looked at him like he was an alien. He ignored her as she gaped at him and sat down to the rest of his gaping friends.

Debbie cautiously came over, afraid that he was going to snap at her or afraid that she was going to die of a heart attack.

"Coffee, please," he said before she could say anything. "That's all."

He kept his head bent and rubbed his hands over his face when she left, still stunned.

"You look like shit," Emmett said sympathetically, wincing at his friend when he banged his head twice against the table.

"I feel like shit," was the honest reply.

"You're not yourself."

Brian muttered something unintelligible and waited quietly for his coffee. At least it was only Emmett and Michael sitting with him. Ted and was at work probably wondering where the hell he was and Ben was doing his usual: teaching.

"Are you not caring any more?"

Brian glanced up, frowning at him. "What?"

"Before you cared about not caring and now you just… don't care."

It made sense and Brian nodded, resting his head back down until Debbie brought coffee. She set it down in front of his head, resting her free hand gently on his shoulder as to not startle him.

"And here I thought it would be Sunshine coming in here looking like he just got hit by a bus."

"Not helping," chimed Brian in a tone that was all too his.

Emmett shooed Debbie away, fearful that she fight make things worse.

"How is the little shit?" questioned Brian to Michael who had been sitting there quietly the entire time.

"Not much better off than you. He's almost a better actor than he is artist. You were right when you said my walls were a piece of shit. He's been crying himself to sleep every night."

More information than Justin would have wanted Michael to share but Michael felt a sense of loyalty to Brian to tell him how things were.

"Now that's what I like to hear," Brian said before sipping his hot coffee.

"How much sleep did you get?"

"On the couch? Oh, possibly an hour and then another hour and a bit on the bed."

"Couch?"

"Bed's bad. I'm getting a new one?"

"But you just got that one a year ago?"

"What's your point?"

"You love that bed."

"I love any bed as long as you can fuck in it."

"Why did you sleep on the couch?" wondered Emmett, frowning at the two of them like they knew something he didn't. "I would have picked the chaise over that thing any day."

Brian winced visibly and then added quickly, "I'm selling that too."

"Again, you love that thing!"

"You're forgetting the past tense, Mikey."

"You fucked him on that too?"

Brian nodded, his elbow on the surface of the table, his hand holding the coffee right before his mouth. "Oh yes, several times."

"So, you're getting rid of the chaise and the bed because you and Justin fucked there? You're getting rid of everything you fucked on?"

"No, because then I would have to get rid of the loft."

If he hadn't been serious, they would have laughed.

"What if you two get back together?" Emmett inquired optimistically, a small smile on his lips.

"We won't."

"Don't say that!" chided Michael, gripping Brian's upper arm with his hand, staring at him incredulously.

"Why not? Until I can admit that I love him, commit to him – which means monogamy – and ask him to marry me, there's no chance of that happening."

"Start small. Commit to him," reasoned Michael.

"That's not small, Mikey. That's huge. I haven't tricked as much lately and he knows it but I still am. I've tried. I've gone a week without it until that fucking blond showed up."

"Justin?"

"No, a different one."

"That one I always see you staring at? Long blond hair, looks like he's out of a surfer magazine?" asked Emmett.

"That's the fuck," replied Brian, with mocking merriment in his voice, downing the last it of his coffee.

"So what's wrong?" pushed Michael.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not? What have you got to lose?"

"My pride."

"We're your friends, Brian."

"He rejected me. Twice."

That was all it took to render them speechless.

"Well…"

"Don't even try to make up excuses, Emmett. Him and I now have deal since I banned him from Babylon. Whoever fucks ten new tricks the fastest wins."

"Wins what?" Michael was curious.

"He gets inside Babylon, I get inside him," Brian smiled his sweet, sardonic smile and then waved down Debbie for a refill.

"Is he worth losing Justin?" asked Michael after a while, while he watched Brian mull over his new cup of coffee.

"Pride and reputation or Justin."

"There's about a million things you can add onto after Justin," commented Emmett, noticing how Brian was making their friend look like nothing compared to an inflated ego.

"I'll admit that."

"What else are you willing to admit?"

"Not much."

"Brian, you need to get over this inflated ego of yours and realize that you've got something real good here. Shit like this doesn't come along every five minutes. Try once in a lifetime and only once. You're almost thirty-five and it's well past time that you settled down and thought your life over. You can't keep tricking and drinking and doing drugs like you do every night. You're going to burn out and you're going to be fucking miserable. Fuck your pride, don't fuck every man in Babylon, and fucking tell Sunshine that you love more then his dick," hissed Michael.

Emmett gawked at him, eyes wide and his hand over his mouth and Brian finally met Michael eye-to-eye, listening to everything he had to say. He blinked a few times while Michael caught his breath and then he spoke, calm and evenly.

"You're right, Mikey. I know that you are. I've told myself the exact same thing for the past forty-eight hours."

"So then what's the problem?"

"I have to somehow convince Justin that I love him."