"So, you're a glorified sleepwalker Sunshine." Brian teased as he opened the door to the loft. His mind couldn't decipher his jumbled thoughts.

He was elated, that perhaps this man was really out there somewhere. He was also terrified of actually finding him, facing him, feeling him.

'Why the fuck? Brian Kinney didn't do fear. No. This man was nothing to him but a pain in his ass since first glance. He couldn't wait to get this whole ordeal over with. Yes. Life would eventually proceed as normal.'

"Can you believe it Brian?" the blonde beamed, his smile making the brunette's stomach perform flips he couldn't ignore.

It had been confirmed (at least by a source reliable enough for him) that he wasn't dead. Somewhere he was waiting to awaken. Brian was quite literally the man of his waking dreams. He was the dream he wanted to continue to have even after he opened his eyes.

"I'd believe just about anything these days Taylor." he drawled the name sexily. 'Smiley' swooned.

While Brian ate, showered and called Cynthia, 'Taylor' perched himself in front of the window.

He watched as thunder and lightening danced across the sky with graceful steps. Performing for an audience of himself, rain drops, and the stars.

Cynthia had been pissed when Brian had told her that he needed arrangements for an immediate trip to NYC. He opted not to tell her the real reason, and offered her a generic 'business meeting' excuse. Mostly, she was only irritated because he had postponed the art position interviews, yet again.

"Flight leaves at nine a.m on the dot. Destination? Your identity, and hopefully your tight little ass in the flesh." Brian's voice pulled the blonde's attention from the show in the sky.

"Do you think we'll really find me?" he asked still looking out the window.

Brian paused for a moment and studied the other man. Although he wasn't facing him, Brian could interpret his thoughts. His body language clearly stated 'longing'. Longing for answers, longing for memories, longing for life.

For the first time since meeting him, he placed himself in the blonde's position. An overwhelming ribbon of compassion wrapped tightly around his heart. This man was strong. Stronger and more courageous than Brian knew he himself could ever be.

"We will. I promise." he state firmly and meant it.

He found himself growing slightly irritated that the man still had not looked at him.

"What could be so interesting out there? You've already got the best view in Pittsburgh right here." he said through a grin as he dropped his towel, and poured his nude body onto the bed.

"I can remember the smell of the air after the rain." he told the brunette softly. "At least, I remember that I love it. (He knew it was nothing like the scent of despair the awful black rain had exuded) It's as if the entire world is washed clean. Freed of toxic situations, broken hearts, bad moods, misunderstandings, you know? A fresh start. A blank canvas of life, awaiting we, the artists, to paint it as we see fit." he rambled as much to himself as to Brian.

"That's very poetic Sunshine," Brian said only half joking and turned off the majority of the bedroom's lights "but I have to get my beauty rest."

The blonde turned (and had his lungs possessed air) would have been rendered breathless.

It was no secret that the elusive Brian Kinney was a sexy motherfucker. Even so, seeing him unexpectedly naked (a fact scientifically proven by the majority of the Pittsburgh male population) caused certain body parts (transparent or not) to react in certain ways. Certain overheated, borderline euphoric/torturous ways.

Crystal blue deliciously devoured every inch of exposed tanned skin. 'Fuck. He really was perfect.' Every line of the brunette's body called out to him. An unfounded yet primal urge to draw this man enveloped the blonde. His fingers literally itched to immortalize this GOD in print. 'He had to be an artist.'

He licked his lips and spoke (or at least he tried to), "You really are beautiful." he barely managed to whisper.

'Beautiful?' Brian was hit full force by the sincerity in Taylor's voice. It sent him shivers he shouldn't be having in places he wasn't aware of. He was positively blindsided and dumbfounded. Brian was used to, and quite enjoyed being called sexy, gorgeous, fuckable, and hot one hundred times a day.

However, 'Beautiful' was not a favorite among his vocabulary. It was lesbionic in nature and just too goddamn personal. 'So, why had that word, spoken from those lips left him wanting to hear it again?'

Somehow hovering on the bed, the young man stretched out, bringing himself as close to Brian as possible. He felt hollow. Figuratively and literally. All he wanted was to feel his soul mate's touch. 'Soon.' he told himself.

"So," he began "you're my truuue looove." he sang the words through blinding brightness.

Brian stifled an involuntary chuckle and groaned instead. "Seriously. Don't start with that shit Sunshine." he warned.

"I know, I know. Love doesn't exist. It's for breeders, blah blah blah." he said playfully with very imaginative hand gestures.

"Are you mocking me Taylor?" the brunette feigned hurt.

"You're goddamn right I am," he paused before adding "my looove."

He was very much enjoying the discomfort the dreaded 'L-word' was causing the brunette. Brian Kinney may not believe in fate, and love but he sure as hell did. He was already irrevocably, undeniably prepared to give his heart (once he'd found it) to this man.

"You can't fool me. I'm on to you." he declared proudly.

The Ad executive raised an eyebrow.

"You can say love's not real, that you're incapable of it, that is doesn't exist; but you'd be lying." he announced firmly.

"Oh really?" Brian asked while not particularly wishing to be answered.

"Oh yes really. I've seen you with Gus, with your friends. There is definitely love there Kinney. Yup, it's there, existing the fuck away!" he smiled.

He couldn't understand Brian's reservations about something so wonderfully intoxicating. He couldn't remember if he had ever been in love before, but he sure as hell missed it just the same.

He looked up and melded blue to hazel.

Brian felt an insatiable urge to sail forever in the ocean of those eyes.

"I wish I could touch you." the blonde whispered.

Brian's heart knocked urgently against his chest. He didn't speak, in fear of saying something he'd hate himself for later. Perhaps 'I wish you could too' or 'I've never wanted anything more'. 'Christ. Yes. It was in his ego's best interest for any and all words to go unspoken. His inner lesbian had the right to remain fucking silent.'

'Knock. Knock. Knock.' He glanced instinctively down at his bare chest; in a solid effort to ensure that his heart's antics were not visible from the outside. He was more than half convinced that it may actually succeed in knocking down the walls he had invested so many years in constructing.

'He needed to get a fucking grip.'

Brian watched in silence, somewhat awe-stricken, as the glowing man brought his hand to his chest. He inhaled deeply and willed himself not to moan or sigh or some other 'first date jitters' bullshit reaction. He felt himself tremble. 'Fucking hell. Apparently Brian-fucking-Kinney (occasionally) does nervous.'

His gaze followed pale fingers as they attempted to trace the contours of his abs. Though not warmth, not flesh, he did feel it.

A brisk, yet delicate coolness accompanied by an almost electrifying tingle. This icy touch sent a contradictory heat wave through Brian's veins, melting away his coherence.

He allowed himself one final look into the bluest blue, before letting his eyelids fall.

'Knock. Knock. KnockKnockKnockKnockKnock.'…and the walls came tumbling down.