Author note: This isBrian Kinney Pov story

A Bona fide Rarity

I told him that gay Pittsburgh could sleep soundly in their beds. I'd meant it too. Tonight I wanted no one else but him. My mind was only on him, my beautiful blonde twink. As we walked back to my waiting Corvette I thought of nothing else but the things I had planned for his tight juicy round ass. I was going to show him how much he meant to me, how important he was to my life. I want him to know now that he doesn't have to leave again, that if he gives me enough time I will slowly become what he needs me to be.

When we get back to the loft, after several rounds of fuck, Justin eventually falls asleep. He's been spending many nights awake worrying about me and us. I hate that there are nights he goes home. I hate that home is Daphne's. But right now I know that this separation is the best thing for our fragile relationship…partnership. As much as I wish he'd come back here to me, I know now is not the time.

In order for this thing to work again we're going to need to take it one day at a time. We can't have rules, we can't try to be breeders, and we just need to find a place that fits. So far we're doing all right. He knows that I can't just become his monogamous man over night. And I know that eventually I need to be in order to keep him. Someday I'll have to say to him, Justin Taylor… I love you.

Now is not that time and he's content for now with that. He understands now that if he forces me to say them to keep him, not only will he lose me but they'll mean less then if I eventually come to be able to say them without fearing the consequence if I don't. But someday I'll be able to be the man he needs me to be. Someday I'll be the man I need to be. And everyday makes that future seem brighter.

As he sleeps beside me I play with his long golden locks and think about how lucky I am. I think of how lucky I am that he loves me. How lucky I am to have him back. How lucky I am that he lived to see this day. And how fucking terrified it still makes me when he leaves out that big steel door that separates Brian Kinney from the rest of the real world. How, Brian Kinney can get piss his pants scared over the little twat when he leaves, and how each breath is like a knife as I wonder if I'll ever see those blue eyes again.

I've never really pinpointed what I was afraid of exactly. I fear for Justin's safety. I worry every time he leaves that he might come back in a box. The next time I see him will be identification at a morgue… but more than all those fears I worry that he'll leave me for another man. An irrational but nevertheless real fear because I simply can't imagine a life without him. I've had a taste of it, a bitter awful pill, and I hated it. I never want him gone again. But I can't tell him that, not yet.

He rolls onto his back and I lie down, resting my head on his chest, my ear over his heart. There are nights when he's here and I wake up, he sleeps like a fucking log. He could sleep through WWIII even with a nuke landing in the middle of the bed. And I listen. I listen to the strong, steady rhythm of his life pulsing through him and giving me a reason to breathe. And sometimes I find myself silently praying that it's there before I put my head down, hoping that I will never know what it's like to see him lifeless. Again.

The night he came to the loft, after our first fateful encounter, I had told him that I didn't believe in love. I spouted my mantra like it was the word of God. I believe in fucking, it's honest, it's efficient and you get in and out with the maximum of pleasure and the minimum of bullshit. And I remember that the look in those sparkling baby blue oceans made me practically see his heart rip in half. That night I might as well have beheaded his dog, because I'd made him feel insignificant and unimportant. Never in my life have I ever cared about what trick felt when I was finished having my evil turn with him. But never have my words been absolutely crushing to someone that I felt my heart was breaking too. And that's when I knew he was different.

That's when I knew that Justin Taylor was the exception to the rule. He was a bona fide rarity…

I lean over; I brush some hair out of his ear and whisper…

"I love you."

Based on the song Southern Girl by Incubus