"i know the battles of chasing the shadows of who you wanna be
it doesn't matter, go on shatter
i'm all you need"

November 2012 – March 2013
**Brian**

He knew Deb would be pissed for his skipping out on dinner. He knew he was testing an already tenuous and fragile acceptance of his apology to begin with. But he had to go. He had to get the hell out of Pittsburgh – and he wasn't entirely sure he could bring himself to ever come back. He could only hope Deb would understand.

After calling and waking Lindsay with his news of returning to New York, he headed straight for the airport and got on the first flight back to the city.

Everything had gone wrong. He might be back in with his circle of friends, but he was no closer to making things right with Justin. And as glad as he was to be on speaking terms with Michael again, he had been counting on Justin reacting differently to his apology and his proposition. Though who was he kidding? Justin was older, a man; no longer a young, impressionable, moldable teenager that Brian could bend to his will simply by showing him the slightest bit of affection.

"I'm a fucking idiot," Brian growled as he paced his apartment back in the city.

He honestly hadn't expected Justin to still be so angry, and he hadn't expected to get so angry himself. Hell, he hadn't realized he was even angry at all until Justin there, in his face, yelling at him. And then he'd felt guilty for feeling angry – because it wasn't like he and Justin hadn't talked about him going, though he had made the decision on his own Brian could clearly remember having to convince him to go. He was scared of losing Brian – he'd said as much. And that's what had happened; though not because of anything he'd done, but rather because of stupid choices Brian had made.

God, Brian hated that he'd ever thought cutting Justin off was a good idea, and he even more hated that damned trip to Boston that thrust all these emotions back into his face. He'd been okay, surviving, under the blissful ignorance of that time. He wanted that back; desperately.

Brian pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed Sean without checking the time.

"What?" Sean croaked in a voice thick with sleep.

"Want to come over?" Brian went straight to the point.

"Uhnnn - it's after two in the morning?" Sean replied with a yawn.

"So?" Brian retorted. "Tomorrow's Saturday. What do you have to do other than go to the gym? Sleep in and go later."

Sean sighed and Brian smirked. He had him.

"Fine. I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said before hanging up.

Brian fixed himself a drink, or rather three, in the time he waited for Sean to show up.

If Justin was really rejecting him for good and moving on, then it was time Brian did the same, right? What else could he do – he certainly wasn't going to sit around and pine away for him. Fuck that. He'd been there and done that and he refused to repeat those awful years of regret. No – he had nothing to regret any more. He put it out there – those fucking words – he'd declared his feelings and Justin rebuffed him. Fine. Brian didn't need to be told again that he was no longer wanted or desired. Now at least he had an answer, and he could move on…as best he could.

"Take off your clothes," Brian said as soon as Sean came through the door twenty minutes later.

"Hello to you, too," Sean grumbled, but he did what Brian asked.

Brian thought Sean secretly enjoyed when he was bossy and controlling because he always did whatever it was Brian asked, and this time was no different. Sean leveled a gaze at Brian for a moment before he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and dropped his jeans swiftly, commando underneath. Brian was pleased to see he was half-hard already.

"Bed," Brian grabbed Sean's forearm and half pulled, half pushed him towards the bedroom. "I'll be there shortly."

Sean eyed him curiously then shrugged and disappeared down the short hall that led to the penthouse's three bedrooms, and Brian's home office.

Brian poured another glass of Beam and considered what he was about to do. There really was no going back from this…and he found he wasn't as averse to the thought as he had been before – Before Boston. Maybe it was better this way. After all, he and Justin only ever hurt each other and who wants a relationship like that? Not even Brian was that masochistic. Maybe this was the best thing after all – Justin could live his life in Los Angeles with Aiden, or Adam, or whatever the fuck his name was, and Brian could see what might be possible with Sean…

Brian downed the drink, successfully ignoring the pit of dread that had begun making itself right at home in his gut, and walked quickly to his bedroom pulling his shirt off and unbuttoned his jeans on the way.

Sean was sprawled on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring expectantly at Brian as he appeared in the doorway.

"I thought you were in Pittsburgh until Sunday," Sean said softly.

"Apparently I'm not," Brian kicked off his jeans and grabbed his cock, squeezing and rubbing. He had also been commando underneath his jeans.

"Did something happen?" Sean said as he rose up on his elbows and licked his lips, his eyes traveling up and down Brian's naked form, lingering on his stiffening dick.

"No," Brian replied curtly and though Sean nodded, when his eyes met Brian's, Brian could see he didn't believe him. Not that it mattered. Sean didn't have to believe him for Brian to be able to fuck him – and that was all he wanted this night.

"Turn over," Brian said quietly and Sean offered a crooked smile before silently acquiescing.

This was how they worked. Sometimes Brian would talk to him about stuff, and sometimes he wouldn't. Sean had long ago stopped taking offense when Brian didn't want to talk – learning quickly that no amount of badgering or pressuring him would make him open up. It wasn't perfect, and Brian would hate himself for being a dick and eventually tell Sean what was bothering him anyway – so the being a dick part was really a moot point, but it was part of the process. Sometimes Brian wished he could just talk from the start – but sometimes his hurts could only be soothed by the feel of a hard, smooth body, and Sean seemed okay with being just that for Brian, too.

Brian knelt on the bed, crawling towards Sean ass, which was high in the air, beckoning Brian. Pumping his cock a few more times, Brian let go of himself to grip Sean's ass cheeks hard, squeezing and spreading them before he stuck out his tongue and ran it up and down his hole, spurred on by Sean's immediate response and breathy moans of encouragement. Brian wasn't the biggest fan of noisy sex partners, but something about the way Sean's moans were all heated exhalations and guttural sounds turned Brian on; spurred him to do more, to elicit more of those sounds. He found it fucking hot.

Sean pressed back against Brian's mouth, and Brian's tongue pressed into his hole, working it open and making Sean quiver in cadence with his moans.

Suddenly, Brian pulled back.

"What's wrong," Sean panted, rising up on his hands and turning to look back at Brian. His face was flushed and covered in a glistening sheen of sweat; his lips slightly parted as he struggled to regain a normal breathing pattern.

Sean's cock, fully hard, hung stiff and purple, engorged and dripping thick strands of pre-cum onto the dark sheets. Brian stared at it, slightly transfixed by the slowly growing circle of wetness as he fully considered what he was planning to do next. In theory, it hadn't seemed like such a big deal but now, faced with it, he was finding it was kind of a huge deal. There was no going back; this was it, the turning point. It felt right somehow, but also so fucking wrong, particularly knowing how Sean felt about him…

Fuck it.

Brian moved quickly, so he wouldn't have any more time to talk himself out of it. He sat up and gripped Sean's hips roughly, twisting him onto his back before climbing on top of him. Brian let his now fully hard and dripping cock trace a wet line up the other man's thigh before he lowered his hips and pressed their cocks together. They slipped and rubbed against each other, self-lubricating with the wetness leaking out of each of them.

"What are you doing," Sean gasped, staring up at Brian with wide eyes, his breath coming in bursts.

"Isn't this what you want," Brian murmured, lowering his head until he was hovering just a few centimeters above Sean's.

"Yes," Sean gasped and Brian could feel the heat of his breath, could smell the hint of mint from his toothpaste, "but not like this."

"Not like what," Brian pressed down harder, grinding his hips against Sean, savoring the quivering heave of breath the other man sighed; savoring the feel of Sean's long fingers suddenly gripping at his ass, massaging his cheeks while they crept ever closer to what had previously been no-man's-land between them. Brian couldn't deny it felt glorious to have another man's hands on him like that and he wondered why he'd waited so long. He'd been depriving himself of this pleasure and for what? Some noble sense of self-punishment? It wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth giving up this…

If Justin was no longer an option, as he'd proclaimed that very night, then Brian finally felt like all he could do was move on, too, and that meant allowing himself to enjoy sex again; not just the mechanics of it, but the closeness and the intimacy of it. The feel of another man's body beneath his, writhing just like Sean was – God it was fucking heaven and Brian silently cursed all the years he'd been holding back, keeping himself at arm's length from this feeling.

Fuck Justin and the hell he'd put Brian through.

"You either want it, or you don't," Brian whispered, tracing the tip of his tongue along Sean's upper lip and grinning when the other man lifted his head to try and capture his mouth.

"Shut up," Sean groaned, his fingers now poking into Brian's ass.

Brian paused for just one more millisecond, long enough to allow himself one final moment to figuratively say goodbye to Justin before he closed the door to his past for good. He wasn't sure he was ready to lock it up yet, but he was taking that first step and closing the door to those eight years, putting it all behind him, finally.

Very slowly, Brian lowered his lips and pressed them against Sean's, letting the other man set the pace and eagerly accepting his fervent kisses before he rolled on a condom and fucked Sean harder than he ever had before. Brian actually allowed himself to feel the other man beneath him, to know this time it was more than just a means to an end. This time signified something much more – but what that would ultimately mean was yet to be determined.

The next few weeks were more of the same. Sean came over, Brian fucked him within an inch of his life, they ate food, and sometimes Sean went home while other times, he stayed over. The difference in their "relationship" now with what it had been before Thanksgiving was the kissing – and Brian letting Sean in just a little more each day. He could feel the difference, and he was pretty sure Sean could, too – though Brian refused to talk about it and promptly shut Sean up with blow-jobs whenever he brought it up. Brian sometimes thought Sean brought it up just so Brian would suck him off. Whatever. Brian didn't mind, he loved Sean's cock.

But things were different between them, now. Brian had never treated Sean as detachedly as he did the very few tricks he'd had the last few years, but he'd also never treated Sean as intimately as he had Justin, before things had gone to shit.

Before Thanksgiving there had been no kissing, no face to face fucking, no hands or mouths anywhere near Brian's ass. Now he let Sean rim and finger him almost as much as he rimmed and fingered Sean – but he wouldn't let Sean fuck him. He had asked, more than once. But Brian refused to go there. Not with anyone ever again.

Sometimes they'd go out to dinner, but mostly they ordered in. Sometimes they'd go to Royals and play some pool, but mostly they just stayed in Brian's bedroom. Brian didn't mind. Between working and fucking Sean into the mattress he had hardly any time left over to think about Justin and that suited him just fine – it made ignoring the pit of dread in his gut that much easier. Though there were still just enough minutes in the day that at least once a day an image or a moment would float to the surface of Brian's memory. It wasn't all bad, but it only made missing the feel of that damn blonde worse. And as much has Brian enjoyed Sean's body (and he definitely enjoyed it), it was a little too angular, a little too hard, a little too unlike Justin.

Still – it worked, and Sean was happy. Brian could see it – and that was enough, at least for now. Sometimes Sean would try to ask Brian about what had happened to make him change the rules – but Brian refused to discuss it. He kept what had happened over Thanksgiving with Justin to himself, and he stewed over it and replayed it in his head when he couldn't sleep. He couldn't figure out where he'd gone wrong, other than making the wrong decision in the first place by not going to the movie premiere, and then compounding that bad decision with thousands of others by refusing to call or contact Justin again.

He felt some guilt over what he was doing to Sean, using him to forget Justin, but he was pretty sure Sean knew Brian's feelings hadn't changed. He was pretty sure Sean knew that just because he allowed him to kiss him didn't mean they were suddenly boyfriends, or that Brian loved him. At least he hoped Sean understood that. Not that Brian was against the idea of being with Sean, but he was still fighting memories of Justin and until he could face his past with that damned blonde twink there was no way he could let himself enter into a new, real, relationship with anyone else – even Sean, who already knew about most, if not all, of Brian's relationship and life-related insecurities.

The week before Christmas he and Sean had their last rendezvous before the holidays. Brian was headed to Vermont and would be gone until after New Year's.

"What am I going to do without you," Sean pinched Brian's nipple through his shirt and a painfully pleasurable bolt of sensation traveled down his torso and straight to his cock. They'd been spending every night together, and Brian had to wonder the same thing. He thought he might be wound up tighter than a clock (virgin's twat?) by the time he got back from Vermont after the New Year.

"Careful, we've no time for you to take care of the consequences of an action like that," Brian offered a small smile before backing away from Sean. There was no time for any messing about, he had to leave right away in order to catch the train to Montpelier.

As Brian moved about his apartment, gathering the last few things he needed to take together and making sure everything was in order, he could feel Sean's eyes following him. He couldn't get used to that feeling. Sean had a very intense stare and it seemed no matter what was going on Brian could feel it down to his bones. He sometimes wondered if Sean could see right through him, if he knew he was really struggling, with great difficulty, with the loss of Justin in his life and with trying to figure out if he wanted a new relationship or not… Sometimes, Brian would catch a very fleeting look of sadness in his expression – but he was masterful at covering it up and so Brian was never really sure. Still, it made what he was doing all the more difficult because no matter if he wasn't in love with Sean, he still didn't want to string him along and hurt him.

Bags in hand, he locked the apartment under Sean's same intense stare, feeling his eyes still on him as they rode the elevator down to the street where a taxi was waiting to take Brian to the train station. Sean remained silently watchful as Brian put his stuff into the cab.

"Call me when you get back?" he questioned.

"Yep," Brian nodded and offered a small smile before he climbed into the taxi and was on his way, leaving Sean behind and feeling a tiny sense of guilty relief for it.

Brian and Lindsay had alternated hosting Christmas since 2008 when Lindsay guilted Brian into coming to Vermont claiming Gus wanted him there. Gus had wanted him there, but Brian later found out Lindsay had played the Gus card a little heavy. Not that it mattered because Brian had had a great time and since then, they'd taken turns having the holiday celebration in either New York City or Vermont.

Brian left New York City on the 22nd. A few days earlier than usual but he was feeling anxious and antsy being in the city; Sean's hovering and watchful eye were making him increasingly nervous. He and Sean hadn't exchanged gifts, and they hadn't wished each other Merry Christmas but Brian had seen it in his eyes – he wanted to do those things. The problem was Brian had no interest in it. Not with Sean. He'd celebrate Christmas with his son, because that was what Gus wanted and he'd always give his kid what he wanted, but outside of Gus Brian really had no use for the holiday, for any holiday.

Lindsay and Gus were glad to see him, and even though he spent the days leading up to Christmas working on Kinnetik business, they still spent time together in the evenings, going to dinner and even out Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. It was on that night that Brian received the best gift he never knew he wanted, or needed.

The trio, a non-traditional but ridiculously functional little family, were walking through the brightly decorated downtown area of Montpelier. Lindsay was searching for a few last minute bits and bobs for various people. She paused outside a store that looked incredibly dull and boring to Brian and he sighed, his breath forming a thick cloud of dense fog as it hit the cold night air.

"I'll wait for you out here," Brian fell onto a bench, his boots crunching in the days-old snow that littered the sidewalks and streets even still.

"Me too," Gus fell down next to him and Lindsay surveyed them both with a smirk before disappearing into the card shop.

Father and son sat together quietly, bundled up tight against the cold. Brian could see Gus checking his phone out of the corner of his eye, and he smirked. He hadn't been sure when Lindsay told him she was getting him an iPhone for his birthday – we was only twelve after all – but he seemed to be responsible with it, and as far as Brian could tell he wasn't obsessed with texting and all the various forms of social media that were out there, at least not obsessed like most other kids his age. Brian was glad, because he remembered how he was at twelve, and he would have been dangerous with that kind of technology in his hands… He could only imagine the havoc he would have wreaked…

"So what's new on the internet, sonny-boy," Brian stretched his arm out along the back of bench behind Gus, leaning in towards his son with a smile.

Gus shrugged, pocketing his phone and staring down at his gloved hands.

Brian's brow furrowed – this wasn't typical Gus behavior.

"What's up?" He jostled Gus a little with his outstretched hand.

Gus shrugged again, but not before Brian thought he saw a blush creep up his cheeks, and it wasn't from the cold night air.

"Gus," Brian prompted him softly and Gus sighed deeply.

"There's this girl in my class…," he said with a pained expression on his face, and Brian had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Girl troubles already – yep, he was definitely his son – though Brian's troubles had always revolved around boys, and never very seriously until he reached High School.

"Ah," Brian smiled, "what's the problem?"

"She likes this other kid in our class. But he's such a jerk! I don't understand why she likes him when he's mean to her all the time!"

Gus was desperately pained and Brian saw so much of Lindsay, and himself, in him in that moment. The poor kid seemed to have inherited every emotional button both his parents possessed, and Brian was sorry for that. No kid should have to deal with such heightened emotions.

"All you can do is be her friend, and hope she sees the light regarding this other kid. Then, she'll realize you've been there all along and presto!" Brian said, hoping that was the right advice to give.

"I guess," Gus sighed and Brian playfully rubbed his head, forcing his beanie down over his eyes and eliciting a small snort of laughter from his kid – and the sound warmed his heart.

He wondered though, how he would fare as Gus got older and his girl problems progressed, at giving his son advice. He suddenly wondered if Gus would keep asking for his advice. Gus knew Brian was gay but would that deter him, someday, from asking him and telling him about his girl problems?

Suddenly Brian felt incredibly depressed.

"Hey, Gus," Brian looked down at his kid, who looked back at him expectantly, "you can ask me about anything, at anytime. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, dad," Gus shrugged.

"Anything," Brian reiterated, "anytime."

Gus nodded and Brian sat back, still feeling odd and like suddenly he wasn't enough anymore; he was afraid Gus was going to leave him behind. Suddenly, Gus leaned into him and nestled into Brian's armpit – like he used to do when he was much younger – leaning his head against Brian's shoulder.

A surge of love so overwhelming and powerful swept over Brian and for a moment he thought he might actually burst into tears – but it passed.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?" Brian saw Lindsay through the storefront windows at the cash register. She glanced out and smiled widely at him.

"I'm glad you're my dad," Gus said and Brian had to bite down hard on his cheek to stem another wave of unexpected emotions. To think, back when Gus was born he'd barely wanted anything to do with him. Oh, how things had changed…

"Me too, sonny-boy," Brian hugged Gus to him then let him go with a profound feeling of loss when Lindsay came out of the store and they moved on with their Christmas shopping.

Christmas in Vermont was always more tempered and low-key compared to the years when Gus and Lindsay came to New York City, and it was actually pretty nice. Brian appreciated the calm and especially this year, it was nice to get away from the madness of the city and just relax with two of the people who meant the world to him.

He and Gus spent much of Christmas Eve playing Mario Cart on the Wii Gus had gotten for his birthday months earlier, while Lindsay prepared dinner. Brian had offered to help her, but she just shooed him out of the kitchen and told him to spend time with his son. When Lindsay was like that, Brian couldn't help but feel incredibly thankful for her. Many other women might have been glad to have had a disinterested father, or sperm donor rather, like Brian had been in the beginning, but Lindsay had actually been the reason he'd seen Gus as much as he had when he was a baby – and Brian didn't think he could ever thank Lindsay for those moments. Another great regret in his life; that it had taken four years and a bout with cancer to figure out he wanted to know his son, and he wanted his son to know him, too.

After dinner, the three of them all played more Wii Sports before Gus fell into bed, exhausted, near midnight.

Brian and Lindsay sat up a little longer, chatting about nothing really. Lindsay had met a non-traditional Graduate Student applicant who had piqued her interest, but ethically she wasn't sure how to proceed. Brian urged her to go for it – he was tired of seeing her alone, and lonely. She often argued with him that she wasn't alone or lonely but Brian knew better. She hadn't dated anyone seriously since her split with Mel, and it depressed Brian to think of her alone every night. He might not want to hear about or imagine what she did with her dates and lovers, but that didn't mean he didn't want her to feel loved, and fulfilled, and fucking sexually satisfied.

Lindsay was an admissions counselor for the Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier. She'd obtained her Master's Degree there after leaving Pittsburgh and after she'd graduated she'd been offered a job on the admissions board. She loved it, and Brian was glad to see her career fulfilling her, finally. She'd loved working at Sidney's gallery in Pittsburgh, but after the mess with Sam and her breakup with Melanie Brian thought that perhaps gallery work had been tainted for her, forever. Now he just needed to get her to take a chance on accepting some fulfillment in her personal life.

Christmas morning Gus was up with the sun, and not even an hour later his gifts were open, the living room was littered with bows, scraps of wrapping paper, empty boxes, and he was fast asleep on the sofa.

The big gift of the year had been a new snowboard and all the necessary accessories and gear for Brian and Gus's annual trip to Stowe Mountain Resort.

Every year, regardless of where the Christmas tree was set up and where the presents were stacked, after Christmas – from the 26th to the 31st – Brian took Gus to Stowe Mountain Resort for five days.

It was a trip that he and Gus had taken every year for the last five years, missing it just one time. When he was much younger Lindsay used to take him to the von Trapp Family Lodge – there had been a time when Gus had been obsessed with The Sound of Music – but then one year Brian took him snowboarding instead, and the von Trapp Family Lodge was promptly forgotten in favor of the snow sport.

Lindsay had accompanied them the first two years they went to Stowe Mountain, but then she quickly determined she hated skiing and she started staying back in Montpelier, giving Brian and Gus some much desired (by Brian anyway) bonding time. Brian was thankful because even though he saw Gus as much as he could, he still felt like he didn't get to see him enough. The kid was growing up and changing so fast it sometimes made his head spin.

That year they had a great time, as they always did. Brian spent the first two days skiing, before renting a snowboard for their last three days. He always fell a lot more on the snowboard, but Gus liked to watch him struggle and though Brian thought he could likely master the sport of he applied himself, he enjoyed making Gus laugh and so he didn't try too hard to improve.

On their last day at Stowe Mountain, Gus asked if maybe next year they could go to Sugarbush instead. It would seem the small resort at Stowe Mountain wasn't much of a challenge for Gus any longer. Brian nodded and replied maybe, keeping to himself his plans to take Gus and Lindsay to Colorado instead. He'd gone to Vail for Spring Break with a big group of friends his Junior year of college, and it had been fucking amazing. He knew Gus would love it – though it might ruin him for snowboarding anywhere else other than the West afterwards.

That night, their last in Stowe, they were having dinner at the Lodge when Gus brought up another topic of conversation that distracted Brian for the rest of the night.

"I heard mom on the phone before you came," Gus said suddenly, between mouthfuls of the giant piece of lasagna he'd ordered.

"She was talking about you," he added and Brian arched an eyebrow.

"You shouldn't listen in on other's phone calls," Brian said and Gus shrugged.

"It was an accident. I had to call Peter 'cause I left my phone at his house," Gus said, "and when I picked up the phone mom was on it, talking to some guy."

"And it was about me?" Brian asked, and Gus nodded.

"Who was it?" Brian asked, his heart in his throat as he hoped that maybe, just maybe it was Justin. Because if Justin was calling Lindsay and talking to her about him, then his declaration that Brian leave him alone, his "choice" – such as it was – to leave Brian and go back to Aaron, might not be as iron-clad as he'd led on and the thought of that, the smallest potential of that, the tiniest sliver of hope was all Brian needed to let that door open back up. He liked Sean, and he was comfortable with Sean, but he wanted Justin – he loved Justin.

"Dunno. But mom was talking about when you lived in Pittsburgh before. When I was a baby," Gus scooped another giant forkful of lasagna into his mouth and chewed, staring at Brian.

"I didn't listen for a long time," Gus said, "I just remembered just now."

Brian nodded and offered a tiny smile, taking a bite of his pork tenderloin even though he was no longer hungry. He was glad they were headed back to Montpelier in the morning because he really, really needed to talk to Lindsay.

The next morning Brian roused Gus far earlier than necessary, and they were on the road back to Montpelier by 8am.

Lindsay was surprised to see them back so early, and when Gus ran up to his room to go back to bed and sleep, Brian pulled Lindsay into the kitchen.

Steaming mugs of coffee in front of them, Brian began peppering Lindsay with questions, much to her apparent surprise.

"Gus said you were talking on the phone to some guy about me," Brian cut to the chase, "was it Justin?"

"Firstly, Gus was listening to my phone conversation?"

"It was an accident, and you can ground him or whatever later. Just answer my question," Brian cupped his mug in his hands, using it as a tether for his frayed nerves.

She sighed, and that's when Brian knew it was true.

"It was Justin," he said softly, and hope rekindled, the pit of dread in his gut loosening its hold just a little bit.

"Why didn't you tell me you saw him in Pittsburgh?" Lindsay countered and Brian shrugged.

"It didn't go well, and I didn't think it much mattered after how we left things," he sipped his coffee, feeling something akin to euphoria that maybe, just maybe he could still get Justin back. The question was how. He still lived in LA, and the odds that they'd cross paths again were slim to none…

"And how'd you leave things?" she asked. Brian just stared at her and after a moment she sighed.

"Well, he seemed to think you might have talked to me about it," Lindsay said.

"And?" Brian ignored her veiled dig and pressed her for more.

"And nothing. It was a brief conversation, and he didn't say much other than to ask if you'd said anything to me. I told him no, and that you skipped out on dinner with Debbie and Carl to go back to New York. Justin seemed to think it was his fault. I told him no, and then we said goodbye," she shrugged.

"Which, by the way, you should really call Deb. She was angry, and hurt that you'd cancelled. I think she wanted to see you more than me, or Gus even," Lindsay added. Brian sincerely doubted that, but he understood Lindsay's meaning.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll call her," Brian said absently. Justin had called Lindsay to ask about Brian…but why? What had he hoped to gain, or learn?

"You're going to try calling Justin too, aren't you?" she asked, and Brian shrugged.

"Maybe," he sighed, or maybe not. He wasn't quite sure what the correct course of action should be; he needed to consider things because he wasn't sure if he didn't fuck things up that he'd have any more chances. This just might be it...the last gasp.

He stood and topped off his coffee, staring for a moment out the window in the kitchen at the snowy white landscape.

"What about the other guy?"

Brian turned around slowly, his brow furrowed.

"What other guy?"

Lindsay crossed her arms and stared at him, "The guy you see in New York. What's that about?"

Brian raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd told no one about Sean, he hadn't even insinuated that there was anyone in New York. As far as anyone was concerned, he still lived his life tricking every night. At least that's what he let everyone believe, and what he had thought everyone believed, Lindsay included.

"I ask again," Brian moved back to the table and sat, "what guy?"

"Brian," Lindsay sighed, shaking her head.

"I know you have a "friend"," she quoted with her fingers, "so what is he? A hustler? A fuck buddy? Something more?"

Brian sighed, "He's not a fucking hustler. Shit."

"It's complicated," Brian added, thinking back to the weeks leading up to Christmas and how he'd allowed Sean to think things between them were moving forward. Maybe Brian had wanted things to move forward…then. But now; knowing what he did about Justin's apparent need to reach out to Lindsay and ask after Brian… Now Brian found himself struggling too – what was he going to do with Sean when he got back to the city?

"Be careful," Lindsay leaned forward then, placing her hands on Brian's forearm. "I worry about you. You're heart. You're far more delicate than you let on."

Brian wanted to scoff at her, to belittle her use of the word delicate – but he couldn't. The earnestness of her expression and the emotion behind her words was far too raw and real. He couldn't tease her for that. He wouldn't.

"I'll be fine," he replied instead, wondering if he really would be.

January 2nd, 2013, Brian returned to New York City.

When he got back to the penthouse Brian found Sean had left him a note and a gift certificate for his favorite Thai take-out place. It appeared that Sean had taken a last minute trip to Florida with his sister and her husband. He'd be back on the fifth and for some reason, his absence irritated Brian.

The one thing he had counted on, upon returning to the city from Vermont, was Sean in his bed. Brian was horny as fuck – almost two weeks of masturbation alone was nowhere near equal to the feel of another man. But Brian would have to wait a few more days – unless he wanted to seek out a trick – and in his present state of mind he wasn't averse to that idea, though it had been almost six months since he'd fucked anyone other than Sean.

But first, Brian needed to take care of something he should have done weeks earlier; he called Debbie.

"It's about damn time!" Debbie screeched into the phone before Brian had even had a chance to say a word.

"I know," he said and he heard Deb sigh heavily.

"You wear me out," she said, her tone tempered. "What was the excuse this time?"

"Business," Brian lied, amazed at how easy it was, and unsure of if he really liked that it was so easy.

"MmmmHmmm," Deb hummed and he got the distinct impression she didn't believe him anyway.

"I am sorry I missed dinner," he added, "it really couldn't be helped."

"I'm just glad you called, though it took you long enough."

"How's married life treating you?" Brian forged ahead; not that he cared much about Debbie and Carl's wedded bliss, but at this point he wanted to do anything to keep the topic of conversation off himself.

"It's fucking fantastic," she replied and Brian laughed.

"I expected nothing less," he said.

"What else is going on in Pittsburgh these days? How's everyone doing?" Brian asked.

"Everyone is fine," Debbie said pointedly and Brian closed his eyes, "in fact Jennifer and Molly just got back from LA. They had a fantastic time; with everyone."

"That's great Deb, but that's not what I meant," Brian said quietly.

"No?" her voice again full of disbelief and seeming to challenge him to deny that he didn't want to know about Justin. He didn't argue with her any further.

"Did you know Molly's at Penn State?" Debbie said suddenly, and Brian shrugged to his empty apartment.

So what, and who cares? He thought.

"So? And?" he said.

"She's in the school of Architecture. Isn't your old friend Albie the new Department Chair, there?"

"Yeah?" Brian screwed up his face in confusion. What the hell was this about and why the hell bring up Albie?

Brian hadn't talked to him for years, and he doubted Michael had either. Yes, they had hung out during college (coincidentally, Albie was one of the friends on the Spring Break trip to Vail), and yes he had tried to get Michael to go out with him – but it had never really gone anywhere and aside from trading mutually impersonal business Christmas cards each year, Brian hadn't thought about or spoken to him since he'd moved to New York.

"Well, Jennifer told me there's this fantastic seminar that Molly had wanted to get into this upcoming semester. But it filled before she could. She's really upset about it. That's all."

Oh, Debbie…

Suddenly Brian understood perfectly, and his irritation at Deb's apparent random train of thought suddenly shifted into love and adoration. It would seem she might be rooting for him and Justin after all…and Brian wondered what Michael had said to his mother; or what Lindsay had mentioned; or hell, what anyone back in Pittsburgh had been saying. But knowing his surrogate mother was trying to help – giving him an angle to work to get back into Justin's good graces – well – it filled him with even more hope and assuaged his annoyance that people were gossiping about him behind his back.

"Thanks Deb," he said, smiling to himself.

"I don't know what you're thanking me for," she said and Brian swore he could hear the smile that was certainly plastered across her face, "you still owe me a dinner – so when are you coming back here to pay that debt?"

The day before Sean was supposed to return from Florida, Brian got a call at work from Lindsay.

"I know this is last minute, and I understand if the thought of it sends you running, screaming for the hills, but I have a proposition," Lindsay rushed on, breathless.

Brian breathed a laugh, "What is it."

"The College is sending a group of us to Los Angeles at the end of the month for this conference at Cal Arts. It's a week long, and since Gus is still out of school until the beginning of February I thought I'd take him along. Go see the sights, maybe take him to Disneyland," she said.

Brian grimaced, Disneyland?

But also…Los Angeles.

"And why are you asking me to go," Brian said slowly, certain he already knew the answer.

Lindsay sighed.

"Well for one thing, I thought you'd like to spend some time with your son while he sees California for the first time," she said pointedly, "and for another, Justin is there."

"Justin," Brian scoffed.

"You've been pestering me about him for months, so yes, Justin."

"I have not been pestering you," Brian grumbled, aware that in a way what she'd said was partly true. He had been asking Lindsay a lot of questions the last few months about the younger man – but it hadn't been pestering.

She stayed silent and Brian could imagine her sitting at the table, a knowing look on her face, expectant.

She had a point about Gus, and of course, Justin. But to be honest, Brian wasn't sure if parading himself in front of Justin again, so soon, was the best course of action – though he could go to California and not see Justin…but would the temptation of his proximity prove too much for Brian to resist? By this time he might already know that Molly got into her seminar, but would he know Brian had orchestrated it? And did Brian want to show up and be a braggart about it, as if to prove that he was somehow now worthy?

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said finally, massaging his temples with his free hand, "and I'm not sure I could contain my disdain for the hordes of families at fucking Disneyland so it's probably best that I don't go. I wouldn't want to ruin it for Gus – he can still drink the magic Disney Kool-Aid."

"Brian-," Lindsay's tone was concerned.

"No. Okay? Just let it go, Linds," he interrupted. He could try and explain, but he wasn't sure she would get it; hell, he wasn't sure he got it but he knew it felt right. The timing was off and he wasn't sure it wouldn't push Justin away forever if he showed up now.

"Fine," she said, "I just hope you know what you're doing."

Me too, Brian thought.

"We want to focus our television spots on hand-drawn animation," Hannah Marks, of Marks Markers, said to Brian.

It was early February, and they were sitting in the large conference room of the Kinnetik offices, going over the final plans for the print ads, and discussing the next phase of the campaign, the television commercials. Brian's team had presented a few ideas, but neither Heather nor her twin brother Hank, co-founder of the company with Hannah, had been particularly excited about what they'd seen.

"We want kids to get interested, but we want adult artists to realize what our products can do for them, too," Hank added, his sister nodding.

"Sure – we can do that. It's not a problem," Brian said with complete and utter confidence, though Kinnetik had never, in it's almost ten years of existence, been involved in a campaign that included hand-drawn animation. He had no idea where to even start, but that didn't deter him from promising Hannah and Hank that they'd have concepts ready for them to look at in a week.

"One week? Really?" Cynthia was looking at him with incredulity after the meeting was over and the clients had gone. "Do you even know what the hell you're doing?"

"Nope," Brian zipped up his briefcase and stood from behind his desk. He and Sean had dinner reservations and if he didn't leave immediately he wouldn't make it back to Chelsea in time to change and meet Sean.

"I want everyone to have ideas ready to brainstorm tomorrow morning, 9am," Brian grinned as Cynthia scowled at him, shaking her head.

It was later, at dinner, when lightning struck and Brian knew exactly how they were going to pull off the animation angle. By the time he and Sean had left the restaurant for Royals to play some pool, he even had an entire 30-second spot storyboarded in his head. Later, when Sean came back to the penthouse, Brian let his brilliant idea fuel him as he rammed into Sean – so turned on by his strike of creative genius that he managed to go four rounds – a feat he'd not been able to accomplish for years.

"And to what do I owe this amazing performance," Sean panted after the fourth time. His ass was red and Brian knew he would undoubtedly be sore in the morning but he was grinning anyway.

"I was inspired," Brian replied and though Sean was certain to think it was due to him, Brian didn't even care to correct him because he had a plan – and he was beginning to think it all might work out in the end after all.

The end of February and the start of March saw the Marks Markers campaign nearing completion – and from what Brian had seen, the art was amazing. He could hardly believe it had all worked out. He'd been initially nervous, as had the company that had been contacted to do the animation. But, after a few meetings in which Brian laid on his charm thick, the contracts were signed and the work began, put into the hands of one Justin Taylor – and Brian could hardly contain the thrill it gave him to know Justin was finally doing more than concept art for film, or comic panels. He only hoped his interests still lay with animation because this particular job could open many more doors for him in that arena…

Brian visited Vermont a few times, disappointed to hear that Lindsay and Gus didn't get to see, or talk to Justin at all while they had been in California. Gus wasn't too upset about it – he didn't even really remember Justin – instead he regaled Brian with tales of the Santa Monica Pier, Disneyland, and Universal Studios. Brian was really glad he'd had such a good time.

Lindsay though – she had been hurt that Justin couldn't make time to see them, and complained to Brian that he hadn't even called, he'd just sent her a text message and then nothing else. Brian tried not to imagine it was because of him that Justin was suddenly distancing himself from Lindsay – and Lindsay assured him she didn't think it was because of him, not when just a few months earlier he'd been calling her to ask about him. No, she thought it was probably Aaron making him feel guilty for fostering the relationship. Brian chose to agree with that assessment, and found another reason to dislike Aaron, in addition to the fact that he got to share Justin's bed – at the moment anyway.

But it wouldn't be that way for long. Of that Brian was feeling more and more confident.

Phases 1 and 2 of his plan to win back Justin had gone off seemingly without a hitch. And though he hadn't heard a word from Justin, officially, he still took that as a good sign, even with Lindsay's unfortunate interactions (or lack thereof) with Justin while she was in LA.

Unofficially, well, Brian hadn't let it slip his notice that over the last two months (and once before Thanksgiving) he'd gotten four calls from the same LA-area phone number. No messages were ever left, and the one time Brian answered there was only a brief moment of silence before the line went dead.

No – Brian was certain what he was doing was having the desired effect, and he felt somewhat giddy for it. Sean noticed the improvement in Brian's moods, and Brian tried not to consider how hurt he might be if, or he hoped when, he and Justin reunited. Sean didn't deserve to get hurt, but somehow the people who cared about Brian always managed to get hurt and the only thing that made what Brian was doing bearable was the thought of once again holding Justin in his arms.

But that outcome really depended upon Phase 3 of his plan to win back the affections of said blonde. What he did next would either seal the deal, or be the last of three quite impactful gestures meant to show Justin that Brian cared, and listened, and paid attention to everything. It wasn't a grand gesture, not in the overall scheme of romantic gestures, but it was grand enough and coming from Brian, well, he had complete faith Justin would understand the meaning behind it and he was certain it would be straw the broke the camel's back – good or bad.

The day of the premiere of the first ad coincided with Justin's thirtieth birthday. On that day, Brian had thirty red roses, thirty white roses, and fifteen each of deep lavender and dark pink roses delivered to Justin at his office in three large arrangements within ornately cut crystal vases. The plan behind scheduling the release of the ad on Justin's birthday was purposeful, it guaranteed Justin would be at work – and Brian needed him to be there to receive the flowers. He wasn't about to send them to him at his home he shared with Aaron – he couldn't run the risk of them being intercepted and tossed aside.

The day stretched on, and when the appointed hour of delivery came, and then went, without a call or an email or an acknowledgment of any sort from Justin, Brian began to worry something had gone wrong. He called the florist and was promised the delivery was made as he'd instructed, and Justin himself had signed for the delivery. Brian didn't understand then, why he hadn't heard from him yet. He was certain he would get a call – either one of the "leave me the fuck alone" sort, or, what he hoped was a call of the "let's try again" sort.

But there was nothing. No call. Not for three days, and Brian was climbing the walls by that time and driving Sean crazy with his anxiety which, again, he wouldn't explain to the other man. On the fourth day following Justin's birthday, Brian's phone finally rang with an LA-area number flashing, and Brian promptly answered.

"Justin?"

"No," the voice on the other end said and Brian pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the numbers again – only then did he notice that, while a Los Angeles number, the last two digits of the number were different than the other number he'd been getting calls from.

"Aaron," Brian sighed, closing his eyes.

"What are you trying to do?" Aaron replied, and Brian shook his head. This was not how the plan was supposed to work.

"Did Justin get the flo-," Brian started to ask, but Aaron cut him off, his voice increasing in volume.

"The flowers? Yeah, he got them. And now I'm asking you to stop. You got his sister into her damned seminar, you arranged for Justin to get that animation work, you sent him a fucking year's salary in flowers. It's enough."

"Does Justin say so?" Brian retorted, not about to lay off because Justin's supposed boyfriend, or fiancé, or whatever the fuck he was, said so. He was done sitting back and letting things happen around him – he was making his own happiness, or so he hoped; he was going to actively fight until he was told to stop.

"I say," Aaron said, his voice low, "and that's enough. I'm telling you to stop."

"And I'm telling you that unless Justin himself asks me to stop, either in person or over the phone and with his own voice, I'm not going to stop."

"What do you hope to gain? You had your chance with him and you blew it. We're happy. We're planning a wedding. Why are you doing this now?"

"Because now is when I want to do it. The past is the past – it's behind me and I hope it's behind Justin, too. This is about the future – and Justin's future is with me, not you," Brian spoke with a conviction he had been unaware he felt – and it only strengthened his resolve to fight the more Aaron told him to stop.

"You think so, do you?" Aaron laughed and Brian hoped it wasn't wishful thinking on his part that his laugh seemed a little bit unsure, and nervous.

"Oh, I know so," Brian grinned, feeling the certainty of it in his heart – and ignoring the tiny bit of doubt that was trying to assert itself; because what if he was wrong? There was always a chance – as much as Brian liked to think there was no one in the world better than him the fact was there was always a chance he was wrong.

What if he'd completely misread Justin's apparent emotional struggles back at Thanksgiving? What if he'd misread the meaning behind Justin's calls to Lindsay? What if Debbie had been wrong to give Brian that little bit of hope? What if all those missed calls were really just Justin working up the courage to tell Brian to fuck off?

"I guess we'll see," Aaron retorted and Brian thought he sounded rather petulant.

"Yes, I guess we will," Brian responded, pushing all his doubts away and without another word, he ended the call and hopped in the shower. He was feeling frisky, and Sean was coming over in an hour.