"i don't want you to go
don't wanna see you back out in the cold"

**Brian**
January 2005

"You're a fucking shit, you know that?"

Brian was silent; he knew.

"He's heartbroken. He's devastated. Fuck, Brian! What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do this to him?"

That was something Brian didn't know. Well, that's not entirely true. He did know. He was letting Justin go. It was something he should have done the minute Justin told him about the opportunity Brett Keller had given him. He'd been weak, though, selfish. He'd wanted to hold on to him just a bit longer. And he wasn't entirely sure Justin would have decided not to go after all; plus, after the way Brian had kicked him out when he'd learned of the cancer…well, he didn't have the strength or the courage to be that cruel once again. So he'd waited, and strung him along all the while knowing he was going to break his heart in the most cruel way…and now he was experiencing the first aftershocks of his decision. He'd ripped off the band-aid far too soon and now they were all bleeding freely.

Hell, it's not like he wanted to let Justin go; he didn't, not really. But he knew if he held on to him he'd only be holding him back, and Brian would never be the reason Justin didn't live out his dreams or fulfill his true potential. Justin, in Brian's mind, couldn't reach his full potential if he was worried about Brian; if he was concerned about making sure they visited, and talked, and maintained some sort of contact. That would simply be prolonging the inevitable.

Brian wanted him to be free, to live his life unencumbered and unattached. He was trying to give Justin wings to fly. To be a fucking success, free from Brian and all the emotional baggage he made Justin carry. Brian knew how he'd treated Justin most of the time was deplorable, especially early on in their "relationship". Even more recently he was unnecessarily dismissive and cruel to him for no real good reason. But even with that knowledge he still thought he knew better what Justin wanted, and needed. What Justin should do with his LA opportunity. Hell, he'd had to throw Justin a going-away party just to "prove" that he was "okay" with Justin going.

Looking back now, though, Brian saw the fatal flaw in his plan. He should have ripped off the band-aid right away…not let it fester and grab a tighter hold. He should not have let Justin think there was hope for them long-distance. That would be his greatest regret, Brian knew that now. It was just such a fucked up situation – everything that had happened from the moment he'd crossed that damned, icy finish line for the Liberty Ride seemed to be moments and scenes from someone else's life. It was unrecognizable, but it hadn't been unpleasant.

Suddenly it was unpleasant.

When he'd asked Justin to move back in he hadn't actually thought there'd be any pause or question as to what the other man's response would be. But when Justin didn't answer right away, when he didn't leap from the stool and throw his arms around Brian's neck, Brian knew there was something else going on. It had only taken a few minutes of prodding before the entire situation was laid bare – and though it wasn't Justin's fault, Brian immediately felt the fool. He'd put himself out there (as much as he could anyway) and by asking Justin to move in he'd opened himself up more than he ever had before and he felt stupid for it. The days following Justin's revelation of the job offer were a little rough. Brian would disappear into the backroom at Babylon for hours at a time, letting guy after guy suck him off, and he and Justin only fucked twice. Justin stayed at Daphne's almost every night, and they didn't talk much, if at all. It was awkward and everyone noticed – though only Michael and Ted had the balls to try and ask Brian what the hell was going on, and they both got brutally rebuffed for their efforts.

Brian hated feeling the way he did. He was jealous, and angry, and embarrassed, and disappointed and scared; though he expressed none of that outwardly. What it boiled down to was Brian wanted Justin around, and Justin – for all his carrying on for years about Brian's lack of committing – was now balking at the idea – at least that was how it felt. And for what? It was just like Brian had always thought – love muddied the waters. Emotions and attachment were dangerous. But it was too late, and he knew it, and he hated himself a little for it. Brian had let himself start to buy into the fantasy, he'd let himself relax in the comfort and familiarity of Justin's affections. He'd let himself begin to recognize and identify and most dangerously, accept the way Justin made him feel. Justin had wormed his way so far into Brian's heart and soul and as a result his announcement left Brian feeling the same sort of panic that Justin must have felt when Brian had announced (years ago) he was moving to New York City.

Finally though, Brian came to realize what a chance this would be for Justin, and he'd swallowed his fucking pride and talked to him – told him he should go, that he needed to go. Looking back, he supposed that was when the seed of the idea had been planted because if Justin was out of sight, it'd be a hell of a lot easier to cut him off, to kick him out of his life and let him live and experience everything he should as a young gay man just entering his prime. Hell, he wasn't even 22 years old yet! Brian would not be the reason he never got to explore his sexuality – outside of Brian and Babylon and the fucking Pittsburgh scene. This was his chance to learn for himself everything that knowing and loving Brian had robbed him of. Namely, his youth.

"What are you trying to achieve by doing this?" Lindsay's question was voiced softly, gently, and there was a long silence between them that was thick with unspoken words.

"Because from where I sit you're only going to succeed in making both of you miserable," Lindsay finally added, breaking the silence. Brian could hear the expectation in her voice – she was desperate for him to say something.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" Lindsay's tone sharpened slightly, her anger and disappointment thinly veiled.

Brian was glad she was defending Justin, that she felt injured on Justin's behalf. Justin would need her, and the others. He deserved their friendship, Brian did not.

She sighed deeply when he still said nothing.

"Fine. You know what, Brian? Fuck you. You don't deserve him anyway."

The line went dead then and Brian gently set his cordless receiver back onto the base. He felt unnaturally warm and uncomfortable in his own skin. He desperately wanted to do…something…but fuck if he knew what. For the first time he thought he might have gone too far. For the first time he wondered if maybe he'd made an awful mistake.

It was true, though, what Lindsay had said. Brian didn't deserve Justin. Really, that was kind of the entire point.

What had started as a three month pre-production gig quickly turned to a six month gig when Brett Keller asked Justin to stay on for Production and filming. Then the six month gig was extended a few more weeks for post-production which apparently still required Justin's presence. In the end, Justin left Pittsburgh in early April of 2004 and by the time the movie was nearing completion, in November, Brian hadn't seen him once.

Brian had known when Justin had left, just one month after the Liberty Ride, that the chances of him returning were slim to none (who'd come back to Pittsburgh after being in Los Angeles?). When Justin called to tell him they were behind schedule and he'd have to stay longer, Brian had canceled his plans to fly out and surprise him. Then, when Justin called again* to tell Brian he'd be staying even longer as he'd been recruited to work on production Brian had verbally patted him on the back before hanging up the phone and consciously beginning the process of letting him go. He hadn't known it would be as hard as it turned out to be and the only saving grace of the entire situation was the fact that Justin was across the country and out of sight. It was easier to put him out of mind that way, though just barely.

Justin still called several times a week. Sometimes Brian would avoid his calls on purpose, but not always. Brian assumed if Justin got suspicious of his intentions to cut all ties and let him go, the blonde might fly back to Pittsburgh and never leave again and Brian didn't want that. He would not be the reason Justin gave up what could be a fantastic opportunity; Brian wouldn't be the reason Justin wasn't a fucking fabulous success. So he played along, just enough so Justin wouldn't get suspicious while also planning the moment when he'd officially cut ties and let him go.

The last phone conversation they had was the night before Brian was to fly to California for the red carpet premiere of Rage! The Movie.

The film was scheduled for release just after the new year and while Justin had wanted Brian to come out to California early to spend New Year's Eve with him. Brian was able to convince him he couldn't leave Kinnetik, and that he'd already made plans to watch Gus while Lindsay and Melanie had a much needed night out. The part about not wanting to leave Kinnetik was not true but he did intend to spend the holiday with Gus, his offer to do so coming as a surprise to the lesbians. JR was already with Michael for the holiday, so it just made sense. Plus, Brian wanted the two women to have the time alone to work on their so far unsuccessful reconciliation. Things between them were still very rocky and as much as Brian hated all their drama he wanted Gus to have a stable home and so he found himself complicit and even encouraging in their reunion. Even though the longer it took for them to make up, the less faith Brian had that they actually would…

So New Years Eve came and went, and Brian and Justin had a pretty hot and heavy phone sex session; and that would end up being the last time they'd talk.

For weeks leading up to the premiere, the trip to California was all anyone talked about. So much so that Brian stopped going to the diner, and Woody's, and he avoided his friends when they'd show up at Babylon. It was too hard for him to pretend he was excited or looking forward to the trip and seeing Justin again when he knew he wasn't going to go.

Everyone flew out on January 2nd, the premiere scheduled for a few days later. Brian, who had made up some excuse about Kinnetik business, told everyone he'd meet them at the airport. As the time for the flight approached and his friends started calling him, Brian turned off his cell phone, took the landline off the hook and proceeded to get shit-faced drunk while watching Marlon Brando saunter across his television screen.

A few hours later, as the arrival time for the flight neared, Brian left for Babylon, losing himself in the smooth, muscled bodies of the men he hand-picked to join him in his private VIP area.

When he finally got home, hours later, he turned on his cell phone to find his mailbox full of messages. Lindsay, Michael, Debbie, Emmett, Ted, and Justin had all called him over and over. Brian deleted the messages without listening to a single one.

He managed to avoid everyone's calls for three days before Lindsay finally got a hold of him. He was at Babylon, working in his office just before opening when one of the bartenders told him he had a call about his son. Brain panicked, and accepted the call not thinking it would be a ruse. But when Lindsay started in on him he knew Gus was fine. He was angry with her for the fake-out for about two seconds but it didn't matter. That conversation with Lindsay, one-sided thought it was, was the beginning of the end. Not just for Brian and Justin, but for Brian and everyone.

The regret of his actions was palpable in the days after his conversation with Lindsay. If he were anyone other than himself he would have admitted his mistake and called Justin. But he was Brian-fucking-Kinney and he would not admit to any mistake, or apologize, or let anyone know he felt any regret.

Brian worked long days the rest of the week. He ignored the news of the film premiere and the opening weekend box-office numbers. He was partly afraid of the movie failing, but he was equally afraid of it succeeding. Would Justin return to Pittsburgh of the film failed? Now that Brian had effectively told him to fuck off, why would he? No, Brian was sure he'd stay in L.A. regardless of the success of Rage. Justin had dreams, and ambitions, and a drive to succeed on his own terms. He'd be okay; hell, he'd probably thrive out there in Hollywood.

The Monday after the film's release, when Ted strolled into Brian's office with a look of obvious disappointment on his face, Brian steeled himself for chastising. But Ted didn't say a word. He simply laid a newspaper on Brian's desk, a few sentences circled in bright red ink, then turned and walked out.

The article was about Rage, and the sentences were praise for the art design – which Brian knew Justin was directly responsible for. The rest of the article was a mixed review of the film itself. The critic seemed unsure of how to take the homosexual focus but in the end he was a fairly positive, and even with its seemingly narrow target audience, the film finished 5th in total box office gross that weekend.

Allowing himself one brief moment of pride in Justin's accomplishment, Brian then jammed the newspaper into the shredder and proceeded to crack the whip on his employees for the rest of the week.

After everyone returned from California things slowly worsened for Brian. None of his friends would talk to him, if not for Ted having to deal with him at Kinnetik Brian would have been totally cut off from everyone. Not that Ted talked to him at Kinnetik, unless it was about the business. Not even Lindsay would talk to him. When he'd go over to visit Gus, she'd silently leave them alone and he wouldn't see her again until he'd leave.

Brian didn't blame them. He was glad they were on Justin's side.

He was lonely, but he managed by keeping busy with working, and tricking. Justin was but a random thought to him, and only when he allowed himself to slow down enough to know he was missing a piece of himself. And he was; Justin had taken a small part of him with him to California. A part of Brian that would never be replaced, or grow back. The hollowness was painful at times, but easily dulled by things Brian had within reach; booze, drugs, and men.

The day Jennifer Taylor showed up, though…that was when Brian really began to understand that he might have not handled the situation in the best way. Not that he thought he had handled it that great anyway, but seeing her pain as a reflection of Justin's was almost too much.

Brian was at the loft, preparing for another night "babysitting" the hordes of hot men on the dance floor of Babylon when there was a distinctly sharp and rapt knock on the loft door.

Depositing his cigarette in the ashtray, Brian moved towards the door curious. It had to be someone he knew, someone who had used the access code to get around the door buzzer – which at the moment was a very limited list of people. Everyone was still angry with him and giving him the cold shoulder. Brian suspected Lindsay or Deb had come to attempt to talk him into calling Justin so when he slung open the door and saw Jennifer Taylor he was significantly caught off guard.

"Mother Taylor. What brings you to my doorstep," Brian lazily drawled, though his heart was pounding in his chest. Not since the moment outside her condo, when she'd not so gently told Brian she didn't want him seeing Justin anymore, had he felt such open hostility from her.

No, that wasn't true actually. Back then, outside her home, there had been an undercurrent of sadness and empathy along with the anger. Looking at her now, Brian saw nothing but the anger. Still, she was a proper WASP, so there was a limit to what she would say and do to him. But that almost made it worse. Because it would be what she didn't say and do that would haunt Brian – his imagination of her anger and slight certainly far more devastating than anything she might ever actually say.

"Brian."

They stared at each other for a few moments before Jennifer raised her eyebrows.

"May I come in?"

Brian stepped back and swept his arm out, inviting her in without a word.

"Nothing much ever changes here," Jennifer said as she entered. Brian slid the door closed, watching her as she surveyed the space.

"Why should it. If it ain't broke, don't fix it," he paused dramatically, "Or so they say." Brian knew full well Jennifer wasn't alluding to the décor or furnishings of the loft.

"Hmmmm," Jennifer hummed, offering a tight-lipped smile to Brian that didn't reach her eyes.

"And how are you doing?" Jennifer turned to face him full on.

"I'm fine," Brian responded stiffly. He could imagine what Jennifer wanted to hear from him; but he refused to play into her hands. Did he regret his actions? Yes, mostly. Did he regret letting Justin go to live his life? No; and yes. Would he ever admit either of these regrets to anyone? Fuck no.

"He keeps asking me to check on you," Jennifer said softly. "He's worried something's wrong. Like you're sick again?"

Brian shook his head.

"I'm fine," he reiterated when Jennifer continued to simply look at him, "you can tell him I'm fine."

Jennifer was quiet as she nodded, her eyes never leaving Brian's.

"I hope you know what you're doing Brian, because I've never seen my son so devastated," there was a decidedly cool, clipped tone in Jennifer's voice now, and Brian could visibly see her WASP-y nature threatening to burst.

"He'll be okay," Brian said quietly, partly for her but mostly for himself. He had to believe he'd be okay because otherwise there was no point to any of it.

Jennifer smiled at him and nodded.

"Oh, I know he'll be okay. He'll pick himself back up and move on and live a happy, full life. I know it in my heart. I think even he knows it, deep down. But Brian…," she paused, shaking her head and looking down at her feet for a moment. "You've broken something inside him. You've done a lot of awful things and hurt my son over and over but this time…I just want you to know, to really know, what you did to him."

Brian chewed on the inside of his lower lip, accepting the blame and internalizing it along with all the other hurt, and pain, and anguish he'd inflicted on Justin, and everyone, over the years. He owned it, because he deserved it. It was his, and he'd carry it forever.

With a sigh, Jennifer raised her head high and after a long look in which Brian felt a kind of finality of her presence in his life, she turned and left.

After that visit, things got progressively worse. Aside from speaking to Ted at Kinnetik, and Lindsay regarding Gus and their visits, Brian saw and spoke to no one else in his friend group. He tried calling Michael once, only to have Ben call him back to tell him Michael didn't want to speak to him and not to call again. He wasn't rude, per se, but even Ben's tone had a coldness to it that made Brian's skin crawl with doubt and uncertainty. He'd known his decision would cause a rift, but he hadn't expected it to go this far. He wasn't sure if he had underestimated the lengths to which his friends would defend Justin, or if there was more to it that he was simply ignorant of.

It was painfully awkward and Brian never felt more alone in his life. He couldn't and didn't blame anyone for their silent treatment of him, but it did make going to the diner, or Woody's, or Babylon a little lonely. Though really, Brian avoided those places for the most part, except for Babylon of course, but he still only went there as needed.

Months earlier, when Brian had bought Babylon with his Kinnetik excess funds, he'd hoped to use it as an escape, a reprieve. He'd hoped to use it to enjoy his evenings out with Justin before retreating either to his private office or to the loft for some more one-on-one time. But then Justin had never returned from Los Angeles to see Babylon so Brian – after struggling for weeks on end to get the club back on its feet and nearly losing everything he'd built in the process, his stubborn resistance to sell it forcing him to work harder at promoting and saving the club than he'd worked at any campaign in his entire career – after all that Brian could still only see it as a painful reminder of everything he'd lost.

Babylon had been his place. His and Mikey's. Then after the night he'd seen Justin under the streetlamp outside it had become his and Justin's. Now though; now he didn't have Justin, and he didn't have Michael. He was alone – and he didn't want Babylon to be only his; he didn't want it to remind him he was all alone. It was too fucking depressing.

Of all the losses to stem from Brian's actions, Justin notwithstanding, losing Michael was the worst of all. In the past, Brian hadn't gone more than a few weeks at a time without seeing or talking to his best friend, but Michael had taken Brian's absence from the movie premiere almost as hard as Justin. As Ben had explained on the phone, Michael had taken it personally, and he was furious. Michael was done with Brian and his shit.

A part of Brian wanted to tell Michael to grow the fuck up, but Rage, the comic, meant as much to Michael as it did to Justin and Michael was just as invested in the film's success as Justin, even if he hadn't worked on it directly. Brian knew this to be true. He just never realized Michael would interpret Brian's actions as anything other than aimed at Justin. But he had – and now Brian was left to wonder if there was any way Michael would, or could, forgive him.

Babylon was the reminder of what Brian had lost. His best friend and his lover; the only two men who would likely ever love Brian enough to put up with even a fraction of his shit.

Brian suffered the loneliness and ostracizing for two months before he started actively looking for a way out of Pittsburgh. He couldn't handle the stares (and glares), and even though Emmett and Debbie would talk to him if they were in the diner when Brian showed up, it wasn't the same. They were cordial, but they still held him at arm's length. Never had Brian thought he'd miss Deb's meddling, or Emmett's sensitive nature.

Then, Proposition 14 was passed and Melanie and Lindsay officially dissolved their union. They'd spent months trying unsuccessfully to reconcile; the passing of Prop 14 was all the push the two women needed to officially call it quits. Then, Lindsay took Gus and moved to Vermont.

With Lindsay and his son gone to a new state, Brian knew there was no longer any real reason for his continued presence in Pittsburgh. There was no Justin, there was no Gus. Michael wouldn't talk to him…so why not leave? He could be lonely and ostracized in Pittsburgh, or just lonely somewhere else.

Enlisting Ted's somewhat reluctant help, Brian used Kinnetik and the now successful (though barely) Babylon to leverage a new business loan and he began the process of opening a satellite office of Kinnetik in New York City. Not quite four months later, he was there and Pittsburgh was nothing but a memory. He kept his loft, though. It was now paid for and a valuable asset and he planned to use it when he needed to do business out of the Pittsburgh Kinnetik office and, honestly, a very small part of him held out just a tiny bit of hope that someday he'd find himself there again – with a certain young blonde.

Not prone to daydreams of that nature though, Brian rarely let those images flood his mind. Mostly, he pushed away any and all thoughts of Justin – and finally being out of Pittsburgh he found it surprisingly easy to ignore the hollow hole in his chest.

Using New York as a means of escaping the shit-storm his life in the Pitts had become was quite effective. Setting up Kinnetik-NYC was a lot of work, and Brian had no time to dwell on the events of the past. There were no restaurants or dance clubs or street corners to remind Brian of some precious moment or another from his life with Justin. There was nothing at all in New York City to remind him of Justin – save the hotel in midtown Manhattan that the blonde had run away to all those years ago; but Brian barely remembered where it was in the giant city.

No – it was not hard at all to simply push aside and file away all the memories of his friends; all the things he'd ever done to hurt people. Justin.

A few months after moving, Brian severed another tie to Pittsburgh by selling Babylon to Ted. Ted had remained in the Pitts, running the office there which Brian had turned into the hub of Finance and Human Resources. The New York office was run by Brian, and of course Cynthia who had transferred to work by his side, and was where the "real" work was done. It had taken a few months to work out the kinks but by the end of the summer of 2006, Kinnetik was once again a finely oiled machine, and Brian was making more money than even he had ever dreamed possible.

As fall descended and Kinnetik became a stable force requiring a bit less of Brian's time, he finally started going out and exploring the city around him. He had found a place in Chelsea and was surrounded by clubs, and bars, and restaurants that all seemed to cater to his every whim and desire and soon Brian was back to his "old self". Tricking every night and drinking/drugging until the wee hours of the morning. His old behaviors were comfortable and comforting and it was a skin he could easily slip back into. No thoughts of friends or lovers lost – just the moment and as much pleasure as he could manage.

He found a niche to be filled, a hole in the landscape of gay men. He was every single older man's dream "younger man", and he was every younger man's dream "older man". One thing was for certain – the numbers of gay men at his beck and call were seemingly endless. He never wanted for a body to bring him pleasure, and he even found himself sometimes going back for seconds. But never thirds. Thirds would breed familiarity and Brian still wanted to be enigmatic and anonymous. He never wanted to be familiar to anyone again.

His habits aided in his ability to forget all bad shit of the last few years; the cancer, Justin in L.A., Prop 14, and of course the way Brian handled (or didn't handle) the movie premiere and supporting his best friend and his partner. He thought about it less and less over time and found the superficial existence he'd carved out, while not satisfying, was enough to keep him occupied and under the illusion that he was happy and in control of his life; that he was doing exactly what he wanted.

But sometimes he'd wake up at night, alone, and feel such a deep, dark ache inside that he would get physically sick. It didn't happen often, but when it did Brian knew why… There was only so much pretending his body could take before it had to flex its muscles and tell Brian it knew he was barely keeping it together. Those nights were the worst.

Then morning would come, and though he'd feel not quite as rested as usual, he'd forget about the night and resume his daily activities; work, the gym, the bar, the backroom, on and on ad nauseam.

For all the going out and partying Brian did in New York, he still had no friends; at least not people he'd call upon to have breakfast at a diner, or go see movies with. He had no Ted, or Emmett. No Michael. Cynthia attempted to include him in her new circle of friends – but Brian didn't fancy hanging out with a bunch of straight women, no matter how much they'd undoubtedly love to hang out with him. So he declined her invitations until one day she just stopped asking. By the time Brian had become lonely enough to consider going to happy hour with Cynthia and her gaggle, it was too late. He would never invite himself; he'd never ask to be included. So he continued to go home alone every night, or occasionally with one of the nameless, faceless fucks that he'd kick out as soon as he'd gotten what he'd needed from them.

He never let anyone stay the night; he never let anyone kiss him; and he never fucked anyone face to face. Tricking was a business of bodily pleasure and Brian regulated his activities in that regard ruthlessly, not quite aware that he always avoided the slight, blonde men, no matter how much interest was thrown his way. He was also not quite aware that most of the time he felt as unsatisfied and unfulfilled after, as he had before. But the illusion of power that tricking gave Brian was enough to let him continue to believe he was living his life on his own terms. That he was in total control.

Brian's new life in New York greatly resembled his old life in Pittsburgh; only now there was no blonde twink following him around, no self-righteous "friends" publicly shaming him for his behavior; or keeping him in line. Brian was free to do what he pleased – and he did. He lived life on the edge, the thrill of the drinking and drugs and strangers he'd fuck driving him to do more, try more, more, more, more…

There was no one to call him out on his recklessness, and no one to be sure he made it home safely. Honestly though, the inherent danger of his lifestyle fueled Brian. The adrenaline of the unknown almost as addictive to him as the drinking and the drugs and the sex he used and abused to sustain him.

Even with all the late nights out Kinnetik thrived and when, after over a year of being in New York, Brian still hadn't gone back to Pittsburgh (he conducted his business meetings over the internet or the phone), he finally sold the loft.

It was yet one more break from the past that gave Brian a sense of strength to move forward. He used the money from the sale to pay off a portion of his new mortgage in New York, and to finance a three week trip to Ibiza.

Lindsay and Ted were the only ones who still kept in touch – and that was somewhat by necessity more than by design. Lindsay was Gus's mother, so cutting ties there was not really possible as much as she might have wanted – though Brian was convinced her anger towards him thawed as time passed.

After moving to Vermont Lindsay did slowly start talking to Brian again, and Brian traveled to Vermont at least once a month to visit with Gus. She only mentioned Justin once though, then never again after Brian blew up at her and cursed her up and down both sides. He didn't want to know anything – or did he want to know too much? He couldn't be sure which was the case but what he did know was it was easier to pretend Justin didn't exist rather than try and face the way he'd behaved towards him; particularly after everything Justin had done for Brian over the years.

And of course Ted was still Brian's CFO and so they talked constantly about Kinnetik business, and sometimes Ted would regale Brian with his escapades. Ted and Blake were an on-again, off-again mess, and when they were off-again Brian knew simply because Ted would be a bit more chatty with him, a bit more free with telling Brian more than Brian wanted to know about his extracurricular sexcapades. Still, it was nice to talk to him, even if Brian would rather not hear about the latest kinks Ted was into. What Ted never talked about were their mutual friends, and Brian never asked.

It was surprising, then, when just after Thanksgiving Brian got an invitation to Ted and Blake's commitment ceremony in Pittsburgh. But Brian didn't want to go back to Pittsburgh. Not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. It had been just over two years since he'd left and Brian was finally feeling free of that place and its memories. When he called Ted to RSVP his no, he felt slightly offended by Ted's laughter, but that was followed by an immense relief when he realized Ted had really only invited him out of obligation.

No one expected him to go (except maybe Lindsay), and Brian didn't go – living up to the expectation. He didn't ask about it when he visited Gus and Lindsay a few weeks later either, though Lindsay felt it her place to tell him Justin had been there and he looked good. He was happy, and healthy, and loving his life. A part of Brian knew she was telling him to spite him. She still carried residual anger towards him for his behavior (or lack thereof). Sometimes, Brian would catch her looking at him with an almost disgusted expression. She played it off, claiming not to know what Brian was talking about when he brought it up. So he stopped bringing it up – but he didn't stop noticing.

The one thing Brian wanted to know though, he never did find out. Lindsay didn't say if Justin had come alone, and Brian didn't ask fearing the reason Lindsay didn't say was because he had been with someone, and that thought was almost too much to bear.

Brian stewed on the news for days after he returned to New York from his visit. He couldn't get the memories of the past he let slip away, or the imagined scenarios of Justin's new future out of his head. He tried to erase them by binging on drinks and drugs and men but no amount of drinking, or drugging, or fucking could continue to erase the profound emptiness Brian felt inside. The emptiness he did his best to ignore, rather successfully the majority of the time, but most certainly unsuccessfully when faced with the news regarding Justin.

The simple fact was running away from his old life had done nothing to make his new life any better. He was still alone, and though he did his best to forget it all he could still remember what it felt like to have people in his life who cared; a best friend, a boyfriend. Lindsay's words from years ago were prophetic because they were true - he wasn't in a better place in New York – just a different place, and he wasn't a different person, he was still the same – only older.

And even if the realizations of all his past mistakes were finally being realized it didn't matter. Brian was sure it was far, far too late to go back. He knew there was no going back – not after all the time that had passed and all the missed opportunities he'd had to make things right - not just with Justin, but with Michael too.

No. Brian had made his bed and now he had to lie in it – no matter how uncomfortable, cold, and lonely it was.

And it was fucking uncomfortably cold and lonely.

A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews and favorites. I am pleased to know so many of you are enjoying this so far. :)

The * marks the point where canon diverges into my alternate timeline.