Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of the characters in this story. I just merely used my warped brain to twist it around to create something that I at least find fascinating.

Rating/Warning: M (for language, violence, sexual content – let's face it…is it really a Queer as Folk story if it isn't smutty?)

Summary: Set in season four, Brian returns from his "vacation" in "Ibiza" to find that Justin didn't live up to his promise of being there when he gets back. After spending days looking for him, the boy randomly turns up, breaks things off with Brian, and Brian soon discovers the reason. However, something isn't right about the entire situation, and Brian is determined to find out the real reason behind Justin's sudden decision to leave him, especially after his promise, especially when Brian needs him more than he's willing to admit.

More Thanks: To all of those wonderful people that have reviewed. I love knowing that you guys are into the story, so please, keep reading, reviewing, and I promise to try to get the chapters up ASAP.

Justin stared at the form that had answered the door after several minutes of continuous knocking. When he had seen him at the diner, the blond had refrained from looking him over, knowing that if he did that then his emotions would betray him and Brian would know that whatever had happened between them wasn't really Justin's ideal plan and Cody would have no doubt noticed and he would have had to suffer for it later.

But he still hadn't thought that Brian Kinney, of all people, could ever get into a state like this, because, honestly, he looked like shit.

What was normally bronzed skin, was pale, and while Brian didn't tend to get the best of sleep (with his life style) he had always managed to hide the bags under his eyes, but upon further inspection, Justin noted that they were puffier and darker than the brunette would generally allow. Plus, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and if the blond didn't know any better, he would have pointed these things out.

Justin managed to pull himself from his worried thoughts of his former lover's appearance when he realized that the aforementioned person was speaking.

"Go. Away."

Justin hadn't really expected anything less. He knew that Brian was probably perturbed at the fact that he had clearly been left for someone else – again – but somehow, Justin still couldn't bring himself to believe that the reason the older man was so bothered by it was because of any feelings he might have for the artist. Instead, he simply brushed it off as Brian being annoyed with the fact that he hadn't been told the exact reason of his departure.

"You didn't take your sandwich," Justin said a bit lamely as he held up the Styrofoam container.

With raised eyebrows, Brian glanced at the box and then at the blond, "the diner delivers now?"

The blond couldn't find a way to answer that so he just stared at the brunette expectantly, making certain he understood that he wasn't leaving until he took the sandwich. After all, he had made the trip across town to bring it to him.

Brian, noting the defiance in the boy's stance let out a small sigh before taking the container from him and turning to take it to the counter. He had been trying to get a bit of sleep when Justin had so rudely decided to just show up on his doorstep and he really just wanted to get back to the inviting comfort of his bed so he could rid himself of the pounding in his head and the growing feeling of nausea in his stomach.

However, it seemed that taking the offered sandwich was an invitation for Justin to come in because behind him he heard the sound of his door being slid shut and while he hoped that it meant that he had just been courteous and closed it for him so that he could be left alone, he could feel Justin's eyes staring into his back.

"It's awfully rude to come into a person's home uninvited," he commented, not bothering to turn around.

Justin opened his mouth as if to point out that it wasn't just his home, but then he remembered, he didn't live there anymore. "I thought that maybe we should talk," he said a bit apprehensively.

A small smirk flitted across his face and he turned to face the other man in the room and shrugged, he had to keep up the Brian Kinney façade as best as he could. "You know me Justin; I'm not one for idle chit chat. If you want to fuck you know where the bed is." He knew very well that Justin hadn't come here to fuck and there wouldn't be any fucking during what he hoped was a very short visit, especially since any sexual intercourse at the moment wasn't actually a welcomed idea in Brian's mind.

"You know that's not what I meant," Justin said, a slight agitation to the words, making Brian's smirk widen even more. There was the man that he had created; not the poor excuse for one that walked around with his tail between his legs because he might hurt somebody's feelings. "I want to talk about what you saw at the diner."

Brian's eyes widened in feigned realization, "oh," he exaggerated, "that." He paused and then his expression fell and he shrugged indifferently. "So you've got yourself a new play toy; what do I care?" He started to head back towards the bedroom but paused and turned, looking at Justin with a rather cruel look. "Just one question…were you fucking him before or after you decided to call things off?" After all, he had been fucking the fiddler before he had made the decision to leave; who's to say that this time wasn't any different?

The brunette left him with that before he went to the bed and collapsed on the mattress, burying his face in the pillow, shutting his eyes tight, begging for sleep. He waited, and waited, and waited for the sound of the front door opening and closing but it never came. So, with a small, inaudible sigh, he turned his head and cracked his eyes open and surely enough, Justin invaded his vision, standing there, waiting for his attention.

"What part of go away did you not get," he groaned before turning his head the other way to try to clearly show that he didn't want the blond there.

But, Justin lifted his messenger bag off his shoulder and placed it on the floor before crawling onto the bed beside Brian. "What's wrong," he asked quietly.

Swallowing, Brian slowly turned his head back and looked at the blond that was looking down at him from the kneeling position he had settled into. There was such genuine concern in his eyes that for a split second, he nearly blurted out that he was here, lying in bed because he had cancer, that he hadn't really gone to Ibiza, it was an act and Justin shouldn't be mad at him for leaving for a "fuck fest" because there wasn't one, that he needed to come home. But doing that would be worse than verging on the edge of pathetic. If he let anything like that come out of his mouth he may as well sign his death warrant.

"What's wrong is that I have a pestering artist in my bed that doesn't seem to be able to get the hint that I don't want him here."

Ignoring his words, Justin pulled his legs out from beneath him and stretched out beside his ex, propping himself on one elbow. "You never take off work because you're sick," he stated.

"Who said anything about me being sick?"

"Ted, who told Cynthia, who told me when I stopped by your office earlier; you've been leaving work early for the past few days because you haven't been feeling well. And frankly, you look like complete and utter hell. So there has to be something wrong and I'm not leaving here until you tell me."

Brian didn't answer him. Fucking gossips; he expected it from Ted, although he had to wonder if he had told Cynthia the real reason Brian had been feeling under the weather, but if Justin hadn't brought it up then he assumed that he had at least kept that part a secret.

He didn't know how to answer it though. Justin was right; Brian knew that he looked like shit and he knew that he didn't take work off for just anything, especially not a petty illness. So it was either fess up, or lie his ass off.

About to open his mouth to try to pull something out of thin air, he paused when he felt the bed shift once more and felt Justin settle himself on the back of his thighs, one leg on either side of Brian. "What are you doing," he asked, turning his head the best he could to try to look at the boy.

His question was answered when he felt the boy's hands on his back begin to press and knead against his shoulders. For a moment, Brian wondered why Justin was doing this – didn't he have a boyfriend that needed his attention – but then he got lost in the feeling of his hands and the way his fingers worked so tenderly, yet firmly, against the tense muscles. Justin always did have the best hands.

Silence fell between the two men as the one on top continued to massage the one beneath him. Brian's torso began to relax under Justin's touch and his eyes fluttered shut. Rarely, if ever, did the two of them usually do something so caring. Justin may have been the most intimate relationship Brian had ever been in but this still had never been a part of it. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to protest to the rather lesbian action because for a moment, it felt like Justin was there solely for him, to please his every desire, as was generally the case with Justin when it came to Brian; it felt like they were still together. And while there was that gnawing voice in the back of his head telling him that this was all a sham, an illusion, and soon enough the blond would be abandoning him for the new toy model, he profusely ignored it because this ignorant bliss was actually making him feel better.

Justin's ministrations never faltered as his hands worked his shoulders, his neck, his back, and even dared to massage the strip of skin that was visible to Justin just between the wife beater that had bunched up slightly and the waistband of his jeans. Alright, so they hesitated a bit there but only because whenever he had been playful in the past and had wanted to let Brian know that he was in the mood – this generally happened whenever the brunette happened to be lounging about – he would drag his tongue over the displayed skin and look up with a slight smirk and a hint of innocence he still held in his eyes.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, desperate to get a taste of Brian's skin again but the sudden sound of a knock at the loft door stopped his hands and drew his attention. And then suddenly, as if a big flashing neon sign had told him what he was doing, he scrambled off of the body beneath him knowing that it was stupid of him to do that, and increasingly unfair to Brian.

The knock sounded again as Justin hastily shouldered the bag again.

Brian didn't even bother to stop and ask why Justin was suddenly rushing off; it wasn't his place anymore to know the blonde's business. However, he was curious as to who was knocking on his door in the early afternoon because everyone, other than Justin clearly, should have been working.

So, when Justin opened the door, Brian propped himself up and looked over trying to catch a glimpse of who was seeking his attention at such an odd time.

"Cody?"

Hearing that name come out of Justin's lips got Brian curious; what in the hell was the boy's new boyfriend doing at his loft? He didn't move from his bed though; he remained on the mattress only glancing over at the entrance over his shoulder.

If Brian was confused as to why Cody was there, that didn't even begin to describe the look on Justin's face. What in the hell was Cody doing here? How did he know Justin was here? Had he been following him?

"This is an interesting place to have class," Cody commented, folding his arms over his chest and staring at his boyfriend with an accusatory glare.

Justin's eyes flickered towards the floor and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He figured that Cody would break his silence with a nasty comment or remark, but no, he was just standing there, waiting for whatever Justin was going to say. And the blond knew that if he opened his mouth, whatever he said was going to sound like a pathetic excuse and the response that he would get would be ten times worse.

"I brought Brian's sandwich over," he said quietly, slowly raising his head to meet Cody's eyes.

"If Brian wanted the sandwich he would have stuck around to take it from you when he asked for it. Do you want another shot at explaining yourself?"

It had been a while since he felt like a meek high school boy, afraid of being himself because of what others might think of him. In fact, the last person to make him feel like that had been Chris Hobbs. At that moment, Justin just wanted to retreat into a shell and not come out until the heated gaze was taken off of him and nobody was paying any attention to any movement he made.

"I thought he deserved an explanation," he whispered, "I didn't tell him about us when I left."

Cody paused for a moment before tilting his head to the side, "and how did he take it;" it was like he knew that he wasn't going to get an answer to that question.

Justin hesitated in answering him once more, because at that moment he realized that he hadn't exactly done what he had set out to do when he left the diner. He hadn't explained anything to Brian at all. Cody hadn't even been brought up. The two of them had only shared a few words and they were about Brian and his well being.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Cody took his silence for exactly what it was. Shaking his head, his jaw tightened and his fists clenched slightly. He opened his mouth a few times as if trying to find something to say but the anger bubbling inside of him kept him holding onto his tongue.

From his place on the bed, Brian watched with growing curiosity. He could barely hear half of what was going on, mostly on Justin's side because he was talking so quietly, but all he could really be certain of was that Cody wasn't happy. And how could he be? The kid was at his ex's house, someone that he hadn't been able to resist for almost four years now. As much as Brian hated to admit it, Cody had every right to be mad at Justin for being over here.

With a huff, Cody finally spoke, "c'mon, let's go," he said impatiently motioning for Justin to step outside the loft while already taking a few steps towards the stairs.

Justin shot a longing look over his shoulder that he made sure Brian caught before following the other man out, closing the door behind him.

Justin stumbled slightly as he came through the door of the small apartment that he and Cody shared and the stumble wasn't of his own accord but more due to the fact that Cody had shoved him roughly through the door. The anger continued to radiate from his new boyfriend as the sound of the door slamming shut made Justin wince slightly.

The entire walk from Brian's loft to their apartment had been torturous. Not a single word was spoken between the two of them but Justin had felt the cold glare from Cody the entire time. He knew that when they got home that he was going to get laid into.

And surely enough, a moment after he had set his school bag down and turned to look at his boyfriend he took a hard right hook to his jaw.

"You're a fucking whore Justin," Cody spat. "Why don't you just fucking own up to it? You went back to your precious Brian so he could fuck you!"

Justin was cradling his tender jaw, his eyes narrowed slightly at the man across from him before he spit out a mouthful of blood – the blow having forced him to bite his tongue rather hard.

Cody glared back at him for a moment, waiting for him to defend himself, say anything to counter what he had just yelled at him for, but Justin remained silent, knowing that no matter what he did or said he wasn't going to change his mind.

Angered by the silence, Cody once again lifted his hand to hit him, but froze when he noticed how Justin coiled away from him. A sadistic smirk settled over his lips. "Are you afraid of me Justin," he asked gleefully.

Justin knew that if he answered that honestly then it would only lead to more pain. He had learned long ago, from his days in the Pink Posse, that fear was not something that Cody tolerated. So, he slowly shook his head and lowered his hand from his face.

Cody's blue eyes raked over Justin's own aqua orbs trying to decide if he was lying to him or not before he lowered his hand. "I don't like hitting you Justin," he said softly, reaching over and touching the bruise that was beginning to form on the other man's face, "but you know how I feel about Brian. He's not good for you. He never was. That's why I had to get you away from him, any way that I could."

Justin merely nodded and allowed a grateful look to cloud his eyes. In the time that he had spent with Cody, in this twisted relationship, he had quickly learned that if he wanted to keep from being hit, he agreed with the other man; he was to look at Cody as if he were a god, as if he had all the answers, as if he were Justin's savior.

Justin had also found, in that time, that he was a damn good actor. Because he might have given Cody the looks that he desired, the words that he wanted to hear, but Justin certainly didn't want any of that. He knew what he wanted. But his want for Brian was surpassed by only one thing: his want to protect Brian.

Two Weeks Ago…

Justin had just bid Emmett good bye at the door of Babylon. After spending the night out with his friend – Ted having left early because of work and Michael having stayed in – and only dancing with a few guys, he had decided that he wasn't much for taking a trick back home for the remainder of the night, even though he knew that Brian would be asking about the guys that he had fucked while he was away.

In honesty, he hadn't really had much fun in the way of guys since Brian had taken off for Ibiza. The brunette may have thought that they had an arrangement where they were free to screw whoever they wanted as long as they ended up with each other in the end, but Justin wasn't as into it as he let on. He was still bent on romance and while he knew that he wasn't going to get that out of Brian, he was content with what they had at the moment.

Okay, yes, he was a bit bothered by the fact that Brian had randomly taken off for Ibiza, a trip that the two of them should have taken together, but there had been something a bit off when Brian had told Justin that he was leaving. There was obviously something that he needed to get off his chest and Justin would let him do that. He wasn't going to hold Brian back because he knew that was exactly how he was going to lose him.

So, during his entire absence, with no phone call or even a pathetic post card from the man, he tried to feign happiness. The reality of it was that he would go home, to the empty loft, and he would consistently dial Brian's number, but not call. The last thing he wanted to do was seem like the old high school boy that he was and pine after him.

Hence the reason he had gone out tonight and grinded on a few guys, giving a small show for his friends. He had put the smile on his face that he was known for and allowed everyone to think that he could get along just fine without Brian.

And now he was headed home, so he could drop the façade and once again fall into the act of missing the older man.

Justin got back to the loft rather quickly, having wanted to escape the inevitable cold that always seemed to settle around Pittsburgh in the earliest hours of the morning no matter what time of year it was.

He pulled the door shut and began to take off his jacket but before he could do that, a hand had shoved him roughly against the loft's door, and he could feel the end of a gun being shoved against the back of his head. "Long time no see Justin," Cody said roughly in his ear.

Stiffening slightly at the sound of his voice, Justin tried to get a glimpse of the man that he, in fact, hadn't seen for several months – not since the incident at Chris Hobbs' place when Justin had walked away from him. He had wondered what had happened, briefly, to his friend considering how mad Cody seemed to be at the fact that Justin wasn't able to pull the trigger. But he hadn't really given too much thought to him.

"Really funny Cody," Justin started, but was quickly cut off by the other guy.

"This isn't a joke Justin," he said sharply, pressing the gun to his head a little harder, "I want something from you."

"Somehow, I don't think holding me at gun point is going to make me give it to you…especially when I know that the guy is empty. You only like scaring people with it."

In a flash, Cody had grabbed his arm and twisted him around, shoving him down to the floor. Opening the barrel of the gun, he showed him that it was in fact loaded before closing it and cocking it and pointing it at him again. "Still think I'm bluffing Justin?"

Raising his hands, Justin slowly pushed himself off the floor. "Alright, I get it. You're serious. What do you want?"

"You."

His arms dropped in surprise; he hadn't expected that. "Me? You want me," he questioned, puzzlement creeping across his features.

In four quick steps, Cody was in front of him and had a hand on each side of Justin's face. He could feel the gun against his ear as he felt the other man's fingers brush over his cheek. "Brian's not good for you. He's just using you, playing with your feelings. We both know that. If he really loved you then he wouldn't have changed your mind. He would have supported you. You wouldn't have walked away from me. …But me. I'm good for you. I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself. Brian only taught you to be scared."

Cody continued to ramble on about how after he was bashed Brian didn't do anything to defend him, how he just let Justin be traumatized by it and afraid of Chris Hobbs before Justin shoved him away. "You are crazy Cody."

For a moment, a look crossed Cody's face that flashed nothing but pain at those three words, but then he took a step back and scratched his temple with the tip of the gun. "I was afraid that you would take his side. Big, big mistake Justin. If I can't have you, than neither can he."

"So you're going to kill me? Just because you have become certifiably insane?"

Cody laughed and shook his head. "I could never kill you Justin. I care about you too much. But I also care too much to let you continue to be a whore to this man." He paused and pointed the gun at a random place on the wall. "It wouldn't take much; just a well aimed bullet to the head. He could be leaving the loft, heading into work, or getting sucked off in the back room by one of his tricks. Just BOOM," he said, jerking his arms back the way they would recoil from pulling the trigger on a gun, "and no more Brian Kinney."

"And before you say anything about not letting me Justin, who's going to stop me? The cops? You know those pigs don't give a shit about fags, no matter how important they make themselves out to be. Kinney's little band of misfit friends? Please, like any of them could overpower me. And you certainly can't stop me. You don't even have the guts to pull the trigger and end the life of some low down, good for nothing homophobe who nearly killed you! You're weak; there's no way you could fucking stop me. If I want Brian Kinney dead, then his death warrant is as good as signed." There was a break in his speech once more before he walked back over to the blond that was glaring daggers at him as he leaned in and whispered in his ear, "but you can save him."