"lay here it's safe here I'll let you be broken open
hide here confide here so we can be broken open"
March/April 2013
**Justin**
The day after the "big fight", Justin came home from work to find a note propped up on the kitchen table.
I think I need to stay elsewhere, at least for a little while, Justin read the words of the note, scribbled in Aaron's messy handwriting. I don't know what's going to happen between us but it's apparent to me that you have some serious thinking to do, about who you want to spend your life with, and you need to do it on your own. If there's any hope left for us you need to figure your shit out.
There was no "I love you", and the note was unsigned. He didn't say where he was going, and Justin was honestly still too angry to even care.
It felt like a dream, or a nightmare – the events of the previous evening. Justin could hardly recall most of what he'd said or what he'd done. He did know he'd gone too far – hell, his knuckles were still achy and sore from the punch – and while it made him nervous to read Aaron's words, a part of him was also relieved. Justin hadn't wanted to come home and find Aaron sitting at the table and staring at him, expecting some sort of apology or explanation. Justin had no explanation and while maybe he did owe Aaron an apology – he also expected one in return for what Aaron had done in keeping Justin from seeing Lindsay and Gus.
No – for the moment it was best for Aaron to be out of sight, at least for a little while.
Justin crumpled the note and threw it in the trash before making himself dinner and settling in to watch a movie on Netflix.
A few days later it all started to sink in – Aaron's leaving, Justin's conflicted feelings about Brian, the fights and the pushing and the hitting. He fell apart one night, throwing plates and glasses in anger – unable to expel the emotions any other way. He then spent the next hour sweeping up tiny shards of glass and big chunks of stone wear.
He and Aaron had still not talked. They hadn't even texted each other. Justin wasn't even sure where Aaron was staying. It was odd, and discomforting, and Justin found himself thinking a lot about Aaron and their relationship. He thought a lot about if he missed the other man, and when he thought he did miss him he wondered, why? Mostly, though, Justin realized he was pretty much okay with Aaron's absence. He suddenly felt more himself – more relaxed, more free – and that scared him too, because if he felt that way with Aaron gone, how much of himself had he been holding back while being with Aaron? Had he really been himself for all the years he'd been with the other man? And, more importantly, did Justin want to go back to feeling like he was being suppressed, restricted, held back from living and feeling and experiencing?
He was incredibly confused, because he also wasn't sure he wanted to go forward, to move on, alone.
Aaron had been in his life and a big part of his life for so long – he could hardly imagine moving on without him. But maybe it was better if he was gone – maybe it was better if they both called this what it was and went their separate ways. They'd been arguing and bickering for months, and though Justin knew it was mostly his fault for pulling back from Aaron; for keeping his feelings for Brian alive in his heart all this time later and refusing to talk to Aaron about it, the fact was they hadn't been happy since Christmas – not really. Justin could look back and see that the illusion of happiness had been there, that he'd been content to ignore much of the nagging in his heart that he simply no longer found Aaron to be enough – he had just been unwilling to do anything about it until now. Finding out about his deception with regards to Lindsay and Gus had been the last straw. And he couldn't be bothered to try and seek Aaron out; to try and get him to come home.
Contrary to what Aaron would probably think of such a claim – it really had nothing to do with Brian. Not entirely, anyway. Justin wasn't suddenly realizing these things out of the blue – but he was suddenly recognizing the symptoms, the signs of a bigger problem. He was beginning to understand that a part of him had always known he and Aaron wouldn't last; because he had never been in love with Aaron.
He got that now more than ever. And it was frightening to think about how easily he had let himself be taken care of by him.
Justin had loved Aaron, and he still did love him, he just didn't love him romantically. Thoughts of him didn't send his heart racing or make his palms sweat or give him butterflies in his stomach. Aaron didn't consume him, take over his every waking thought. In fact, Justin was hard pressed to recall the last time he thought of Aaron at all, outside of when they were there with each other.
Aaron had saved him, had helped him heal after Brian's ruthless behavior had broken him, and he'd made Justin feel safe and taken care of – but that wasn't enough anymore. Seeing Brian again had awoken something inside Justin – a desire for more than just safety and security. It had awoken a need for passion and lust and reckless abandon. Maybe Justin would find that again with Brian, or maybe not. He wasn't sure going back down that road was a good choice, either. Or maybe Justin would find it with someone new. The point was, he wanted to find it, to reclaim it, to get it back and he was absolutely certain Aaron was not where or how he would accomplish that.
Realizing his future happiness wasn't going to be with the man he'd spent the last four years with, Justin felt his emotional roller-coaster ride of the last couple days start to even out, and a calm came over him. Now that he knew what he wanted, he could begin the process of starting over anew. He was a new man, with a new outlook on life, and it was exciting, and exhilarating!
A little over a week after his birthday and the madness that had followed, Justin called Lindsay to thank her properly for the card. He apologized profusely for missing her visit, swearing over and over again that he never would have blown her off like she thought he had. And when he recounted the story to her – that Aaron had intercepted her call when Justin had forgotten his cell phone at home one day, deleting her voicemail and pretending to be Justin and sending that text in reply – she was appropriately angry on Justin's behalf and they commiserated for a bit about the evils of jealous partners – Justin even learned a few new things about her relationship with Melanie that made his head spin.
But then, when Lindsay absently mentioned how Brian had helped get Molly into her seminar at school, it was Justin's turn to be surprised. How had Brian known about it for one, and how had he done it for two? Lindsay didn't know the answer to either, but was surprised neither Molly nor his mother had mentioned it. Justin made a note to himself to ask them, next time they talked.
But learning of this gesture, and adding it to the list of things Brian had done recently – the animation job, the flowers and quite touching birthday note accompanying them – Justin was suddenly at a loss to say he understood Brian even a little bit. He had always known Brian did things for the people he loved, and usually it was without pomp and circumstance – usually it was without the recipient knowing. It only proved what he'd told Justin in Pittsburgh; that he loved him. And Justin had believed him, kind of, in that moment, but now he was forced to face the fact that if Brian no longer cared he wouldn't have bothered to do any of the things he'd done. Because undoubtedly he could have found an animation studio in New York to do the job Justin did, and for less money, and he certainly never would have done whatever it was he had to do to get Molly into her seminar. Not if it didn't directly benefit him – but even then it was doubtful Brian would do something like that for Justin's sister, if he hadn't been truthful about the way he felt for Justin.
All these thoughts rushed through Justin's head in the space of 30 seconds and then it was as if the flood-gates had opened and Justin started talking, emptying himself out to Lindsay and unwilling, and unable, to stop the flow of the words. He told her about the fight he had with Aaron, about Aaron leaving, and about his revelation that he thought he'd only been playing at being happy and he hadn't really loved Aaron – not like he'd loved (and still did?) Brian.
Lindsay was happy to lend an ear, and she didn't try to give Justin advice or tell him what to do, she just listened, which was refreshing and therapeutic and gave Justin a clarity he hadn't known he'd been missing. All the time he'd spent obsessing over Daphne's advice, or his mother's words of wisdom, and in the end it was just having an ear to listen to him that allowed him to realize he probably already knew what he wanted. Listening to himself relay the events of the last few months, and hearing himself try to rationalize behaviors and motivations only made it clearer to him not only what he wanted, but what he needed, and it wasn't a new or a different lover.
What he needed was to be alone.
March ended, and April began, and Aaron and Justin still didn't talk or text once.
Justin spent his days focusing on work, and relishing his time alone and the silence around him. He'd spent his whole life, from the time he was 17 years old to the present either in a relationship, or obsessing over a relationship. First he was with Brian, than Ethan, than Brian again, than California where he spent five years in a useless, pathetic funk thinking only about Brian before Aaron finally came along.
He was, for the first time since high school, single and concurrently not messed up in the head about it. He was feeling good, and excited, and even as his boss gave him new projects to work on he spent his evenings checking the trades and the internet for animation work announcements, and calling old contacts to see if he could get any meetings with any of the big studios – he was ready to leave the world of concept art and art design and move into animation permanently.
He didn't miss Aaron, and to be honest he hardly thought of him. The ring on his finger had lost most of its meaning and was simply an accessory to him now. So he was surprised when, mid-month, he got home from work to find Aaron there, packing a bag and clearing out some of his stuff. Justin had almost forgotten Aaron had even lived with him, and he immediately felt guilty and ashamed for being so cavalier about the situation when none of it had been resolved yet; or even close to resolved.
"Are you leaving for good?" Justin asked. He wasn't too concerned if the answer was yes.
"Not yet. Not unless you tell me too," Aaron said. "I just wanted to get a few more things."
Justin nodded. As much as he wanted to be alone, and free, he also wasn't quite ready to tell Aaron it was over. Not just yet. Why he was still hanging on he couldn't be sure, but something in him wasn't ready to let the other man go. He knew it was unfair, and he knew it gave Aaron a sense of hope, but Justin needed a bit more time to percolate on the things he wanted and needed to say to Aaron before they split for good – and he just wasn't ready yet.
"I'm sorry for everything," Justin said, taking advantage of the moment to give the apology he knew he owed Aaron, all the while watching him stuff clothes into a duffel bag that looked eerily like the one Justin had used for years, back when he was bouncing around from his parent's, to Brian's, to Deb's, to Daphne's, and so on...
"I'm sorry, too," Aaron replied.
"I think we both need time to think about things. I'm tired of fighting with you and I don't want to keep fighting with you. So I hope you figure out what you want. And when you do, call me," Aaron added, zipping up his bag. As he moved to leave the bedroom he stopped and pressed a light kiss to Justin's cheek.
"I love you, and I'll wait for you if that's what it takes, but please make sure I'm what you really want. I don't want to be the man you settle for," his whispered plea tickled the tiny hairs on Justin's cheek and he shivered, nodding his assent as he heard Aaron move back down the hall and quietly close the front door.
What the fuck did he want? That seemed to be the million dollar question. He thought he knew what he needed – to be alone and to figure his shit out – but how to put that into words that wouldn't devastate the other man was another question altogether. How could Justin explain it in a way that made any sense? He knew he loved Aaron – as a friend – and maybe that should be enough to live a happy life? Maybe it was safer to be in a loving relationship like that, rather than trying to recreate what he'd had with Brian – which, quite truthfully, had been damaging and devastating. Justin was now facing the game of second-guessing all his previous declarations to choose himself.
A few days later and after a long weekend of thinking things over and making himself dizzy with what-if's and possibilities and seemingly never-ending options, Justin was still as confused as ever. He was trying so damn hard to figure things out but he couldn't seem to make any headway; one minute he was willing to trash everything and seek out Brian to try again, but then the guilt of leaving Aaron would make him pause; the next minute he was deciding to stay in LA and make things work with Aaron, forgoing any further contact or association with Brian, but then the pain of cutting those ties would overwhelm him and he would change his mind again.
He had gone from fighting for himself to being unwilling to concede failure for either of the men in his life, and it was unfair to them both, and it was unfair to Justin – he was angry, and not sleeping well, and generally miserable and taking it out on everyone around him.
Then one morning later that week, Ross stopped by with a perturbed look on his face. Justin had been staring at the same rough sketch he'd been working on for the last week, unhappy with every aspect of it and about to throw it away and start again (for the sixth time) when Ross appeared.
"Justin," Ross perched on the corner of Justin's desk and crossed his arms, examining him with a curious expression.
"I can't help but notice you've been a bit…well…moody as of late," Ross cocked his head slightly and Justin sighed.
"I'm sorry. I've just got some personal stuff I'm trying to work through. I apologize for bringing it to work with me, it won't happen again."
"I get it," Ross nodded, "and you're right. You shouldn't bring it to work with you. Everyone is on edge, afraid to ask you anything. So I have a proposition for you. It might help with your…," Ross lifted his hand and waved it in the air, "…personal stuff, as you say."
"Okay," Justin replied slowly, feeling a bit nervous at Ross's tone. He really hoped he wasn't being fired, or laid off, or put on forced leave. The last thing Justin needed was more time alone with his thoughts!
"I want you go to T.F.F. and back up Don."
"Uh, okay?" This was not what he had been expecting at all, and Justin wasn't sure how he could do anything to back up Don since they didn't even work directly with each other – Don was in finance and contracts, Justin was an artist.
"It's just he's having a rough time – going through a divorce – and I think he's a bit distracted. The two of you can work through your 'personal stuff'," Ross used finger quotes, "together. Might do you some good to commiserate, and that way those of us here don't have to watch you be sullen and irritable. And in return you can help keep Don on point out there."
Justin swallowed an angry laugh. He really hadn't realized his mood had been so transparent.
"So you want me to go to Tribeca?"
Ross nodded.
"To help Don."
"Mmmmhmmmm," Ross nodded.
"Tribeca the film festival?"
Again, a nod.
"In New York?"
"Yes."
"The one that started yesterday?"
Another nod from Ross.
Justin wanted to say thanks, but no thanks. He wanted to tell Ross that there was no fucking way he was going to go to New York…but he didn't.
"Okay. Sure. I can fly out tonight."
Maybe this was what he needed to do to finally expel Brian from his life? But the thought of being in that city, so close, was terrifying because Justin also wasn't sure he really did want to expel Brian from his life. What he did know was he simply did not want to have to make a choice.
Shit.
He called Daphne on his way to the airport. She knew a little of the drama with Aaron, but when Justin told her everything that had happened, all the details beginning with the animation job, then the birthday flowers from Brian, and how Justin had learned about Aaron's duplicity, ending with Aaron's temporary move out of their home she was stunned to silence, only able to mutter – 'that seems so unlike him' – over and over much to Justin's annoyance.
But then when Justin told her he was on his way back to New York for the film festival, she laughed.
"It isn't funny Daphne. I don't know what I'm going to do being so close," he rested his forehead on the glass of the window of the taxi cab.
"Are you going to see him?" she asked in response.
"I don't know. I want to, but I don't want to, too; I'm not going to try and seek him out, but he has a way of turning up when I least expect," he sighed.
"I've been struggling with something for awhile now, and maybe this is the time for me to take control of my life. I think this is the time for me to focus on myself, instead of what man I want to be with. Because no matter if I want Brian back or not, I'm so fucked up and I really think I need to be alone."
"I mean I haven't been alone for years, and I don't even know who I am, really, without Brian or some other guy to identify with. You know? It feels so…lame," he scowled at his own reflection in the dirty taxi window.
"Yeah, I do know. But you're not lame. You just got far too involved with a much older man when you were far too young. I mean, it's really rather amazing you turned out as normal and stable as you are – what with all the fucked up relationships you've had," she laughed, "but then again you did have me for a friend so…"
"Yeah, yeah," Justin huffed a laugh that turned into a long sigh.
"Just send me strength to stay away from him, please Daphne. I really need to get my head straightened out and I know if I see him I'll just get all confused again. He's got this hypnotic power over me and I can't get sucked back into it. Not yet. I need more time."
"Hey, I'll send whatever good vibes I can, but ultimately it's up to you. You need to remember you're doing this for yourself. Because you are the only person you're responsible for making happy and answering too," she replied.
"Thanks Daph," Justin smiled, he felt a little better about this trip, and knowing Daphne was on his side was a relief, too, "I love you."
"I love you too," Daphne replied, "now please try and have some fun and remember, make yourself happy."
The Tribeca Film Festival had begun April 17th and was running through April 28th. Justin had never been to a film festival before; he'd been to San Diego Comic-Con once, for Rage actually, and swore he'd never go back again. The crowds and hordes of people had sent him into a tailspin of residual PTSD from the bashing. It had been unexpected and jarring and Justin had spent the final two days of the convention in his hotel room or wandering up and down the bike path that ran parallel to the convention center, and his evenings watching the sunset over the Harbor. It was that trip when he discovered the Coronado Hotel; taking the ferry one afternoon over to Coronado Island and walking across the width of it to the hotel and beach where he promised himself to return one day.
The film festival, Justin was thrilled to find out, was nothing like that fucking mess of Comic-Con, but that year it was being held in Chelsea, which Justin was not thrilled to find out.
His taxi drove him past Royals, the bar where he'd seen Brian the last time he'd been in the city, and one block further down it stopped in front of his hotel. Justin sighed to himself – this could be a long ten days. But it turned out he needn't have worried, the film festival was jam packed with screenings and events and Justin knew he could easily give himself no spare time to seek out, or even accidentally run into Brian at the bar down the street.
The thick program booklet Justin had been given when he'd checked in for the festival was overflowing with film choices which could keep Justin occupied from the moment he woke until he decided to go to bed – which was an incredible relief. After Justin tracked down Don and they mapped out the course of the next week and a half, Justin found himself already exhausted and he hadn't even attended a single screening or presentation yet.
The first part of the festival Justin aided Don in representing the company. There were three short films being shown that had been partially produced, and worked on in various other ways, by several of Justin's coworkers, and Don and Justin networked and hob-knobbed relentlessly to try and drum up some distribution interest for them. It was interesting to learn more about that side of the movie business, and because of that Justin found he had almost no time to dwell on his personal problems. He and Don did spend their dinners talking about their individual break-ups, and Justin found it quite humorous how heterosexual couples broke up for most of the exact same reasons gay couples did. He always knew that to be true, but hearing it firsthand was so enlightening. He made a mental note to thank Ross for the trip when he got back, because it was true that talking things out with Don did make Justin feel a bit better – but being out of LA also made him feel better. The conversations he and Don had gave him some clarity and purpose and strengthened his resolve to take care of himself first and forget about what man he might want. He was tired of being defined by who his boyfriend was and he was excited to see what he could accomplish on his own, now that he was older and felt mentally stable and healthy. He was inspired to live his life only for himself.
The last day of the festival, April 28th, Justin showed up at the appointed hour to see his first film of the day. It had been shown three other times throughout the festival and had garnered some interesting buzz that had piqued Justin's interest. It was a gay film, a documentary is what he'd heard, but he didn't know much else about it – purposefully avoiding any of the detailed conversations or the write-ups that were appearing in the various journals, papers, and trades. He wanted to keep his expectations managed because in his experience, most gay films simply never lived up to his hopes.
When he emerged from the theatre two hours later, he wished he'd never gone in, the ache and pain stirring inside almost too much, and nearly sending him into panic attack.
The film itself had been emotionally draining – horrific even – and after having some conversations with others in the audience right afterwards, Justin found he was walking the razors edge of sanity. His imagination was running wild and his emotions were all over the place. He was wound up so tight he thought he might burst if he didn't do…something.
Not quite an hour later and after a frantic and hurried phone call to Lindsay, Justin found himself standing in the hall outside Brian's apartment. His heart was in his throat and he thought he might throw up from the nerves still Justin reached out his hand and knocked. It was late on a Sunday afternoon – he couldn't imagine there'd be a reason Brian wouldn't be home, yet he found himself almost hoping he didn't answer.
The knock seemed loud – too loud – and as its soft echoes faded Justin thought he heard movement behind the door, padded footsteps that would indicate bare feet. Justin's heart, already on the verge of bursting from his chest and launching itself into space, sped up even more and he wondered if anyone had ever had a heart attack or stroke from sheer nervous and excited energy.
His tried to fix his expression into something as neutral as possible and when the door opened, Justin had to double check he was at the right place before he thought maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him.
It wasn't Brian looking back at him but a tall, thin red-head without a shirt on and wearing ratty sweats.
The guy looked back at him first with an expression of slight confusion – his mouth half open as if to ask what he needed – but then Justin saw recognition begin to dawn on his face, and simultaneously recognition also dawned on Justin.
This man staring back at him, the man who had answered Brian's door, was the same guy who had been with Brian at Royals when they'd run into each other back in October. It was the red hair – quite unforgettable.
"Shit. Sorry. Hi," Justin stammered, feeling a blushing heat creep up his neck and face and he felt so embarrassed. What did he think? That Brian would be sitting around pining for him? That he wouldn't have moved on? Though Brian and this guy just didn't seem to make much sense – but what did Justin know? He hadn't been familiar with Brian for almost nine years now…
"Hi," the guy sounded flustered too, unsure, and he looked almost as upset as Justin felt.
"Who is it?" Brian's voice called out from somewhere inside and Justin almost blacked out as all the blood rushed from his head.
He started to shake his head and back away when the red-headed man opened the door a little wider and smiled at him, kind of sadly it appeared to Justin.
"It's Justin," he said quite matter-of-factly, turning slightly to call out over his shoulder to a spot just out of Justin's line of sight.
Justin had no time to consider how this man knew his name and who he was as a silence so loud it was deafening descended upon him. Then Brian appeared, sans shirt and clad only in sweats as well, slightly behind the red-head and his expression, Justin thought, seemed hopeful?
"Hi," Brian's eyes were slightly too wide, and his voice slightly too breathy.
"Hi," Justin swallowed painfully. Seeing Brian again in this state was almost too much. It was one thing to know he'd apparently been with this other guy for all the months since Justin had seen him last, and it was another thing to see them both half-naked and to know they had likely…well…been fucking each other at some point that day.
"Do you want to come in?" Brian moved to stand beside the other man - they actually looked nice together, Justin thought briefly – before he saw the other man frown slightly and take a few steps back before disappearing from view completely.
"Uh. Sure," Justin paused, glancing quickly at the retreating back of the red-head before he slowly took a few steps in, hearing Brian close the door behind him.
The red-head reappeared a moment later, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and carrying a leather jacket. His expression was fairly emotionless, but his eyes were incredibly sad. Justin watched him slip on his shoes before he looked at Brian.
"I'm gonna go," he said softly and Justin watched as some sort of intense unspoken communication seemed to pass between them.
"Call me later," he added leaning in a little closer to Brian, like he was going to kiss him, before pulling away quickly. Justin felt sick to his stomach and stared down at his shoes, briefly giving them some semblance of privacy.
"Yeah," Brian said and as Justin raised his head to look at the two of them again, he got a very distinct impression he'd interrupted something important with his arrival.
The man nodded and flashing Justin a stiff but pleasant smile he left without another word, closing the door softly and leaving a confused and emotionally unstable Justin alone with Brian.
"Did I interrupt something?" Justin asked a few moments later, sloughing off his jacket and handing it to Brian when he reached his hand out for it.
"No," Brian shook his head, draping Justin's jacket over the back of the nearest armchair.
Justin wasn't sure he believed him, but he nodded just the same, taking the opportunity to really look around. The mood in the apartment felt eerily similar to Brian's loft – and the furniture and décor, too. It was all the same stark, contemporary style. There wasn't much color – none really – all the furnishings white and shining silver accents and with the streaming rays of sunlight that were coming in through the west-facing windows it was bright and airy. Comfortable.
Justin could feel Brian's stare following him as he turned in a slow circle, taking in the large, open floor-plan, again quite similar to the loft; a large living area and across from that a formal dining area and a large kitchen with all stainless steel appliances. A hallway branched off roughly halfway across the room and led to what Justin guessed were the bedrooms and bathrooms, however many there were. And there had to be at least a few – Brian's was the only place on this floor, meaning he had most if not all of it.
Nearing the completion of his 360o turn, Justin's' eyes landed on a framed 8x10" photo of Brian and Gus sitting on a small table near the front door and he smiled. It was the only thing in the place that was in the least bit personal, that Justin could tell anyway. And seeing them in that photo, side by side, Justin was amazed at how much Gus looked like his father. He'd always thought Gus looked like Brian in the pictures Lindsay would send each year, but he hadn't seen them together since Gus was a toddler and it was jarring how much a replica of Brian, Gus really was.
"So…what are you doing here?" Brian asked, seemingly cautiously.
Faced with explaining himself, Justin found he was at a complete loss for words, but he turned to face Brian, surprised to find he'd pulled on a tank top while Justin's back had been turned.
"I'm in town for the film festival. Tribeca," Justin started, "and I saw a film today that terrified me and then I found myself here…," Justin sighed – his words were failing him and the way he felt inside…he wondered if he'd ever be able to understand, or make Brian understand how primal the instinct had been to come. How intrinsic the need had been to see Brian, to touch him, to...
"Okay?" Brian said slowly, shaking his head.
"It was this documentary. A young man lost his partner in an accident. A fucking freak, tragic accident. After six years together this man's partner dies and sitting there watching this incredibly sad story just made me realize…it got me thinking...," Justin trailed off, lost in the emotion of the movie and it made his entire chest ache horribly and his eyes prick with tears. It was so fucking unfair – life, but Justin had a chance here – and he had to take it.
"It got you thinking...," Brian finally pressed and Justin nodded.
He examined Brian's face. He looked expectant, like he was waiting for something more, but there was no hint of annoyance or irritation that used to accompany his indulgent patience for Justin's ramblings and for some reason, the still unknown reason behind the change in Brian struck an odd fear into Justin's heart, but it also gave him hope. Brian was different now – because the old Brian would never have let Justin get this far without at least a snarky comment – and a different Brian could only be a better Brian, right?
"About you," he finally blurted and Brian nodded once, a small smile playing on his lips; a very decidedly "Brian Kinney" smirk that eased Justin's nerves with its familiarity because while it was nice to know Brian was different, more mature, it was also refreshing to know there was some of what Justin had known of Brian still there, too.
"That's not normal behavior, right? I'm not even with you. Not for years…I'm supposed to be with Aaron, and we're supposed to be getting married. Yet when I thought of being faced with losing someone like this man did in this documentary, I thought of you first."
Justin heaved a shaky breath, "and it nearly killed me to even consider the possibility of a world without you in it."
Justin felt himself losing control. His rambling leaving him breathless and panting while he tried to regain his control. He didn't want to lose it in front of Brian…
"You thought of me," Brian repeated softly, his face unreadable.
"It reminded me of how powerless and terrified I was when I learned you had cancer. How I would have given anything to have taken that pain and fear, that sickness, from you – how I would have done anything to make you well again. It all came back to me in that theatre. A big, fucking tidal wave of emotion that knocked me on my ass. The thought of losing you, and not because we couldn't make it work but because you died... Fuck, Brian. I realized tonight I never stopped loving you in the way that is vital to my very survival. I never stopped yearning for you. Not really. I don't think I ever will, either."
Silence.
"I'm still angry at you, and hurt, but I want to get over it. I want to forgive you. If for no other reason than I need closure. I don't want to regret, someday, not making things right between us - whatever that might mean. And I'm not saying I want you back, but I'm not saying I don't want you back, either. A lot of time has passed. I'm different. You're different-," Justin laughed when Brian arched his eyebrow slightly.
"Okay. Maybe you're the same, too," Justin acquiesced with a half-smile and a shrug, "and I don't know if it's been too long. If we've been separated by too much time - but I want to find out. I feel like maybe I need to find out."
"So...I guess what I'm saying...what I'm asking...am I too late? Does the offer still stand?" Justin smirked slightly, his heart pounding loudly in his chest while he recalled one of his most treasured and precious memories from being with Brian; and Brian must have remembered too, because his cheeks actually flushed pink as he breathed a soft laugh.
"No; you're not too late. And yes, it still stands," Brian rolled his lips into his mouth as he lowered his head slightly and stared at Justin through his thick, straight eyelashes. Justin was immediately bombarded with thousands of memories and feelings and emotions that pulled him in every direction possible, and he welcomed the feeling – it was like coming home again.
Justin very slowly closed the short distance between them, stopping just out of reach.
"So…," Justin raised his eyebrows, "what now?"
Brian laughed softly and shrugged.
"I think I need a drink," Brian said, moving to the kitchen.
It was not what Justin had been expecting – instead he had thought Brian would simply grab him and throw him to the floor, fucking him hard and fast like he'd used too. But instead, he returned a few moments later with a bottle of water which he handed to Justin, and a tumbler full of ice and amber colored liquid that was, from the scent of it, Beam, for himself.
Justin accepted the bottle of water with a nod and they both took drinks, staring at each other awkwardly. Now that Justin had declared his intention, he had no idea what to do next. He knew what he wanted, to feel Brian inside him, but how to make that happen was suddenly a giant question mark. He had been expecting Brian to make the first move, and when he hadn't it had thrown Justin off his game and now he was all out of sorts.
"So who was the guy?" Justin asked as the silence between them grew and he started to fidget under Brian's stare.
"He's no one," Brian moved into the living room and fell onto the long sofa, propping his bare feet up on the glass coffee table; Justin tried not to stare, but he had a thing for Brian's feet…
"He's not no one, Brian," Justin sat in the same armchair that his jacket was draped over the back of, "not when you've been seeing him and fucking him, I assume, since at least October. He is the same guy you were with back in October?"
Brian stared at him, holding his gaze, but when Justin refused to give in, refused to look away and instead challenged Brian with his stare the older man finally sighed.
"His name is Sean. He's…a friend," Brian said with a half-shrug as he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
"A friend?"
"Yeah," Brian leaned forward to put the tumbler on the coffee table.
"'Friend' can mean a lot of different things," Justin said carefully, "what does it mean in this case?"
Brian sighed again and Justin could tell he didn't want to talk about this – which only made Justin more desperate to find out what he could.
"What is he to you?" Justin pressed.
"He's just a friend, like I said. A friend and a…a fuck buddy," Brian titled his head slightly and smiled. Justin was somewhat relieved to see he appeared to feel just a little ashamed of the revelation. Still – the thought of Brian having a fuck buddy was just…wrong somehow.
"Since when do you have, or even need, a fuck-buddy?" Justin asked a little confused. It wasn't like Brian would have any trouble getting any guy he wanted. He was as gorgeous as ever – even more so with his slightly shorter hair and his thin but still muscular and toned physique. No, Justin was sure Brian could still trick every night of the week if he wanted – in fact, Justin had been sure that was the lifestyle Brian still employed. Into his forties or not, Brian couldn't have changed that much; or so Justin had thought.
This fuck-buddy business was new and different and…concerning? Odd? A symptom of a much greater issue perhaps? Justin only hoped it wasn't the three-letter affliction…he could only hope Brian wasn't sick…
"He's been around for awhile," Brian shrugged.
"Awhile? Obviously. Though I have to say it looked like you are more than a fuck buddy to him," Justin recalled the image of Sean's sad eyes looking at Brian as he left.
"Well I'm not," Brian said, "even if he'd like me to be."
"Even if he'd like…Jesus, Brian," Justin laughed. This was familiar; this was just like the old Brian; seemingly carelessly toying with other's emotions.
"If you knew he wanted more, how could you keep fucking him while sending me flowers, and getting me animation work? I assume in an attempt to get me back? All the while holding him on the line? That's really messed up, even for you."
"Does Aaron know you're here? And thinking about me instead of him?" Brian said suddenly, with an arched eyebrow and a slightly acerbic tone.
"Don't change the subject," Justin said, growing angry because he knew Brian was right. The circumstances weren't the same, but they'd both apparently been toying with other people's emotions in ways that were definitely not okay.
"I'm just saying. You're here, and it would seem Aaron doesn't know," Brian smirked.
"We're having a rough patch if you must know," Justin said sullenly, glaring at Brian, "and you're avoiding my questions."
"Sorry."
"You're not sorry," Justin laughed.
"True," Brian shrugged and Justin sighed. This was going nowhere, true to Brian Kinney avoidance conventions.
"He called me," Brian said, "Aaron."
"What? When?" Justin felt his stomach drop into his shoes. How much more had Aaron done, or known about, that Justin had any idea of? God, he felt so stupid.
"Last month sometime, a few days after your birthday I think."
"What did he say?" Justin asked, crossing his arms and feeling exposed and defensive and really uncomfortable with the idea of Aaron and Brian, talking, or fighting, or whatever, about him.
"He said I needed to stop sending you flowers and doing nice things for you, like getting you that animation job and getting Molly into her seminar."
"How did you get Molly into that seminar?" Justin asked, wondering how Aaron had known that and he hadn't, not until Lindsay had told him anyway.
"I know the Dean of the School of Architecture. Old friends," Brian said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course," Justin sighed – though that still didn't answer how Aaron had known and Justin hadn't...
"He told me you were his, and I needed to leave you alone. Basically, he was threatened, and felt the need to call me and stake his claim."
"That's rich of him," Justin murmured.
Brian was refraining from smiling; Justin could tell by the way he was biting his lower lip. He no doubt found it hilarious that Aaron called him to tell him to back off and then boom, Justin showed up a few weeks later on his doorstep declaring…what exactly? The longer this back and forth went on the more confused Justin grew about what he was really doing at Brian's in the first place.
"What happened? Did he get the wrong brand of gourmet coffee or something?" Brian was teasing, but Justin could sense an undercurrent of barely contained resentment in his tone.
"He lied to me. A big one. And I don't know if I can forgive him," Justin said honestly, being met with another arched eyebrow from Brian.
"I don't really want to forgive him," Justin added after a moment's pause.
Brian was sitting forward on the sofa, his elbows on his knees and after Justin spoke he fell to his knees and moved towards Justin and the armchair.
"That's too bad," Brian said, his hands lighting on Justin's knees, slowly moving up his thighs as he inched closer, still on his knees on the floor.
"Bri-," Justin started, but before he could finish Brian's hands were reaching out and grabbing him and pulling him closer and then their mouths were fused, moving gently but with an urgency, too. It was just like Justin remembered, and oh so good.
Justin's hands grabbed at Brian's shoulders, his neck, his head. One hand disappeared into his thick, soft hair while the other slipped beneath the fabric of the tank top to feel the taut muscles of Brian's upper back – the movement of the strong fibers beneath his skin which was hot to the touch.
Justin scooted forward, ready and willing to strip his clothes off and fuck Brian in the very chair he sat in when Brian pulled away, suddenly.
"What?" Justin said, breathless and flushed and leaning forward to try and recapture Brian's lips.
"I can't," Brian sat back on his heels, whispering, "I won't be him."
"Him? Who?" Justin moved towards him again but Brian held up his hands, warding him off before he stood and moved to the other end of the room.
Justin rose slowly from the chair, completely at a loss as to what had just happened. Five months ago Brian was practically begging Justin to stay and now he was turning him away?
"What are you talking about?" Justin started to move across the room, towards him.
"I won't be Ethan," Brian said and that stopped Justin in his tracks.
"What? What did you just say?" Justin's tone was icy cold, the heated desire that had been coursing them him just seconds earlier completely gone and replaced with an unfettered anger so deep it frightened him.
"I won't be the guy you cheat with," Brian said, to Justin it would seem rather regrettably.
"Cheat? Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Justin felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and his anger transformed into confusion, and amused bewilderment.
Brian grasped Justin's left hand and lifted it up to his face, twisting the ring he still wore on his finger.
"Remember this?"
Justin pulled his hand back and sighed.
"You have to talk to Aaron and decide if this is what you really want because…," Brian's expression screwed up into a scowl and he spun around with a heavy exhale. "Fuck!"
Justin was shocked into silence. Nothing was happening as he'd expected.
"Damn it all, I want you. So much. I want to throw you down on the floor and fuck you til you cry out begging me for relief."
"So do it," Justin whispered, Brian's words, his husky tone, sending shivers through him and arousing him more than Brian's kisses already had moments before.
"You have to end things with him, first," Brian looked incredibly pained as he spoke, and once again Justin had to wonder what in the hell had happened to make him behave so…un-Brian like. "I may regret this the minute you leave but I can't be that guy. Justin, I just can't."
"Why are you being like this?" Justin asked, sincerely curious. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to break things off with Aaron, for good, but the circumstances around Brian's request were just…odd! How was Justin supposed to reconcile the Brian he remembered from nine years ago now, to the Brian standing in front of him?
But Brian only shook his head, a sad smile on his lips.
"Brian," Justin moved forward, suddenly desperate to touch him again.
"No," Brian's jaw clenched and he took a step back.
"Please. Just…end it with him first."
Justin left Brian's feeling unfulfilled, unsatisfied, and very confused. The fact that Brian cared even one iota about Aaron's feelings made no sense and back at his hotel, Justin paced his room, spinning the ring on his finger as he tried to make sense of Brian's request. The Brian Justin remembered wouldn't have given a flying fuck about being a "cheater", if "cheating" was what Justin had truly wanted. Brian had always been about doing what you want, when you want, and the old Brian wouldn't have turned Justin down in this way…which made the mysterious reasons why he'd made that request now all the more mysterious. What had happened to make Brian change so much?
Whatever it was, Justin was quickly realizing he needed to know. And even if this reunion, or whatever it was, was for only one night it was still more than he'd ever desired from Aaron. And it was only fair to let the other man go now, before he was hurt any further by Justin's behavior, and with that, Justin dialed his soon to be ex-fiancé.
"Hello?" Aaron's voice was cautious, hesitant.
"Hi," Justin was nervous. He didn't want to do this over the phone, but he had no other choice. He wasn't going to leave New York without seeing Brian again, and he certainly wasn't going to leave New York without touching Brian, and being touched by Brian...
"How are you?" Justin asked.
"Fine," Aaron replied, "You?"
"Fine," Justin laid back on the bed in his hotel room. The stilted cadence of their conversation was just another indication of how far they'd fallen, and how much they'd grown apart - and Justin had to wonder how much of it was his own fault for keeping the charade of their relationship going, far past the point of when he should have called it quits.
"Good," Aaron replied, no longer cautious but Justin thought he sounded annoyed; fed up; at the end of his patience for Justin.
"Yeah. Good," Justin repeated, completely at a loss as to how to break the news gently. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Aaron. It was clichéd and it was stupid but it was also true. Yet Justin knew he was going to hurt Aaron. There was no way around it anymore.
Justin sighed; time to rip the band-aid off in one fail swoop.
"What," Aaron said with a heavy sigh of his own, as if he knew the news wasn't going to be good.
"I think...I think we need to take a more permanent break," Justin blurted, "like forever."
He was met with silence.
"Oh," Aaron finally said.
"Can I come over so we can talk about this?" he added, now sounding slightly panicked.
"I'm not home," Justin said carefully.
"Okay, well I can meet you somewhere," Aaron countered.
"No. I mean I'm not even in California right now," Justin covered his eyes with his free arm and sighed quietly to himself. This was going bad, fast.
"Oh," Aaron's tone was surprised, "where are you?"
"Uh, I'm in New York. For work. The film festival. Tribeca," Justin said, feeling compelled to qualify why he was there.
"New York," Aaron laughed and Justin heard the anger in it, "You went to New York and you didn't even tell me. Jesus…Okay. I definitely get it now."
"I'm sorry," Justin replied.
"How long did it take you? To run back to him?" Aaron said, ignoring Justin's apology.
"It's not like that."
"No?"
"No," Justin said sadly. He wanted to explain, wanted to make him understand.
"What's it like then?" Aaron practically spat into the phone.
"I'm not in love with you," Justin said, hating that it had come to this and hating what he was doing to Aaron. "I love you, but I'm not in love with you. I'm not sure if I ever was. But you took care of me, and made me feel safe and I'll always be thankful to you for that," Justin rushed out in one breath.
"Wow," Aaron hissed, his anger quite evident in his voice, "you really are a glutton for punishment. I practically put you back together because of him, and you're what, getting back together? Are you moving to New York next? Do you want to give me money for that damned ring so you can pretend it's from him? And don't even try to fucking deny this isn't about Brian."
"I don't know what's going to happen. And this isn't about him."
"Not entirely, anyway," Justin added when Aaron scoffed loudly.
"This is about me, and what makes me happy and yes I saw Brian. But I didn't come here intending to. It's all a fucking mess. I mean, after seeing Brian again in Boston after the hell of those years, and then spending the last few months trying to figure out how it made me feel – how he made me feel – and evaluating my feelings from every fucking angle imaginable, I've realized that simply loving you isn't enough. Not for me. I can't settle for that while knowing - or rediscovering - the way Brian makes me feel. And I'm not saying Brian and I are getting back together, or that I'm moving to New York. Right now none of those things are happening...what I'm saying is I'm choosing me, and I'm letting you go."
"I'm choosing to think of myself first, to make me happy. What happens after that I don't really know," Justin added when he was met with a heavy silence on the other end of the line.
"That is such a crock of shit and you know it," Aaron finally said, sadly, "but I guess you're not my problem anymore, so who gives a fuck what I think, right?"
"Aaron-," Justin wanted to plead, to further explain that it was better this way, that Aaron would find true happiness with someone else, someone who would love him the way he deserved to be loved – the way Justin loved Brian.
"No. Just leave it, okay?" Aaron sighed, "I'll have all my stuff gone from the house before you get back. When will you be back?"
"Tomorrow," Justin whispered.
"Tomorrow. Fine. You'll never know I was there."
"Aaron-."
"No, Justin. Just...no," Aaron said and Justin heard it in his voice - he was already gone, already done with all of it and there was nothing Justin could say to ease the pain he was feeling. Justin wondered if Aaron had really been as in love with him as he'd professed; if he was able to give up that easily. Or, the less pleasant thought that crossed Justin's mind was that he'd simply hurt the other man far too much to be allowed to do any more damage – and Justin sincerely hoped that wasn't the case, though he suspected it was.
"This has been brewing for awhile. I've been expecting it, actually. But there's not much I can do about it. I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted," Aaron added, seeming to read Justin's train of thought.
"Me too," Justin said softly, feeling overcome with emotion for the first time since the conversation had begun, his eyes stinging with tears and a lump forming in his throat. Whether he was "in love" with Aaron or not, they had spent years together building and planning for a life that Justin had thought would be his "happy ever after". Seeing that disappear, even while knowing it was the right thing to do, was incredibly hard and painful.
"Can I just ask you one thing?" Justin added.
"What," Aaron said, not angrily but simply as if Justin was a stranger, and that was almost worse.
"How did you know about Molly's seminar? And that Brian was responsible for the animation work I did?"
Aaron laughed then, and to Justin it sounded pitying and resentful.
"I'm not an idiot, Justin," he said, "I actually got a text from Molly about the seminar. She was told by her professor, or whatever, that Brian – her 'old family friend' – had gotten her in. She didn't know if she should tell you and so she told me. I decided not to share the news. As for the animation work; when you told me about it I simply looked up the company online and saw that Kinnetik was their ad agency. Not too difficult to figure out. Though why you didn't tell me about it I can only guess."
Justin ignored the veiled barb that was Aaron's last sentence, instead focusing on the fact this his sister was now complicit in this game; and that Aaron had lied to him, again. But it didn't matter anymore. It was over and it wasn't worth getting angry about - though Justin was going to give Molly a piece of his mind, later.
"Fine," Justin sighed, "do you want your ring back?"
"No. Pawn it, sell it, throw it in the garbage," Aaron said stiffly, "I don't give a fuck anymore."
And then he was gone. The line was dead, and Aaron was out of his life. It was bittersweet, and Justin didn't know whether to be happy, or sad, or angry, or what. It was true what he'd told Aaron. He didn't know what the future held - and he wasn't planning to simply uproot his life in LA and move blindly to New York. He was still trying to figure out what it was he wanted, and what it was he needed. Plus, that was something he'd have to talk to Brian about...and that thought in itself was daunting, because talking to Brian could be...well...difficult under the best circumstances.
Justin simply hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake.
"Why'd you make me do that? Why do care about Aaron's feelings?" Justin stood at Brian's door. It was 10pm and Justin had just returned after his lengthy and painful conversation with Aaron. And Brian's behavior was just weird. Half the time he seemed like his old self – or rather the self Justin recalled from those years ago – but the other half of the time wasn't like himself…he was different and it wasn't bad – just weird. Jarring.
"I didn't make you do anything," Brian said.
"Stop playing games! Jesus! Just answer the question!" Justin crossed his arms and stared at Brian expectantly.
"I don't care about Aaron," Brian simply said, "I care about you."
"Me, I don't…," Justin shook his head, confused. What was Brian doing?
"That was for you," Brian said, "you would have made yourself crazy with guilt if we'd done anything while you were still stringing Aaron along. So yeah, it was for you."
"Okay," Justin leveled his gaze at Brian, "did you end things with Sean?"
"Yes," Brian said plainly.
"When? While I was gone?" Justin was surprised, he thought he might have to demand the same of Brian but it seemed the older man was one step ahead of him.
"No. Earlier."
"Earlier? Before I showed up?"
Brian nodded.
"Before you had any idea of if you'd ever see me again?"
Brian nodded again, a tiny smile playing on his lips, like he knew what was coming and was waiting patiently for Justin to get there too…
It took only a moment's hesitation before Justin was launching himself at Brian, his hands clawing at Brian's body, roughly pulling and tearing at the tank top Brian still wore before he managed to get it pulled over his head.
Their breathing was matched, coming in hard bursts as their mouths explored each other, trading off with tasting faces, lips, neck, and then Brian was pulling at Justin's shirt, the buttons flying across the room as he ripped it off without a care.
Brian's hands were then scrambling with Justin's belt and then his pants were gone, down around his ankles and Brian had his cock in his hand, pulling and squeezing it while his lips and tongue traveled and tasted every inch of Justin's neck and chest.
Justin was beside himself, the sensations of Brian's touch, his lips, more than he could stand and making him insane with the need to get closer, to feel more of him – all of him. He worked frantically to pull down Brian's sweats, not at all surprised to find he wasn't wearing anything else beneath, and that he was already hard as a rock. His lips found Brian's again and he felt Brian smile against his kisses as Justin grabbed his cock and pulled at it, running his thumb over the slit and using his fluid as lube to stroke him.
"Turn around," Brian groaned against Justin's mouth, and Justin laughed softly before turning and pressing himself up against the now closed door. He heard, and felt, Brian move away for a moment before the sound of a condom packet tearing hit his ears and then Brian was back pressed up against him, his lips on Justin's shoulders while his fingers pressed and prodded, prepping his ass. Not a moment later Justin felt the tip of him pressing in, gently but with implied urgency, while Brian breathed hot and wet against his neck.
"Do it," Justin groaned, reaching up and grabbing at Brian's hair pushing his ass back against Brian and feeling him start to slide slowly into him.
With a soft groan, Brian pushed further into Justin and as he did all the memories came flooding back, all the times that had been just like this – fast and up against a wall – Brian thrusting into him, the sensations so much Justin could hardly stand it. In that moment there was nothing between them, no time, no space, no ex-boyfriends; there was nothing but sweet, sweet pleasure and Justin wanted nothing but for that feeling to never leave him again.
The first push was slow, and as Justin adjusted to the fading pain and the breathtaking fullness of Brian inside him, Brian started to move. Exquisite pleasure replaced any lingering pain and Justin let his head fall forward against the door, his breathing rough and labored as he struggled to contain himself. Brian's hands were on him, one on Justin's chest feeling him all over and squeezing his nipples, the other on his cock squeezing and pulling and sending him fast and furiously towards the crest of the wave he was riding. Soon Justin was telling him not to stop, to do it faster, to fuck him faster, to squeeze and pull him faster and before he could stop it he was coming, exploding against the door with a shuddering sigh and collapsing back into Brian as he pushed deep into Justin and then came with his own shuddering groan, his hands grabbing hard at Justin's hips while he pressed his mouth to the back of Justin's ear, his cock buried to the hilt in Justin's ass while he filled the condom.
It was fast, and manic, and the both came hard and quick – like they'd been deprived of any sexual release for years. And for Justin it was just about the perfect way to reacquaint himself with Brian.
"Fuck," Brian said, his arms still holding Justin to him.
Justin could feel him starting to soften and it was with a regretful groan that he felt Brian slip away and suddenly the space between them was there once more.
"I made a mess on your door," Justin said with a laugh a few moments later.
"That's fine," Brian still held on to Justin though his cock was now flaccid and pressed against his ass. With a soft kiss to the nape of his neck he let him go and Justin heard him move back a few steps, "I'll clean it up later."
Justin turned to face Brian, kicking his pants away and grinning at him, feeling a stirring arousal in his groin as his eyes took in the other man, the harsh shadows cast by the only light in the large room – a floor lamp by the armchair. It was like he'd noticed in Boston – Brian was thinner, but still as muscular and toned as he'd ever been. Not a hint of flab anywhere and it was like going back in time to that very first night Brian had brought him home with him, and Justin had been allowed to appreciate the beauty of the man's body for the first of many, many times.
"Can we take this to the bedroom? Or," Justin grinned, "maybe the shower first?"
Brian smiled, but something in it was a bit unnerving and Justin felt his own smile slip slightly from his face.
"What?" He asked, a little scared – no – a lot scared. After resisting for so long, and finally giving in and letting Brian back into his heart, he was fucking terrified of the words that might come out of Brian's mouth next.
"Shower," was all he said.
While Justin still felt a tiny, niggling fear in his belly, he also felt incredible relief and when Brian turned to head to the bathroom, Justin followed happily.
The shower though – it wasn't what Justin had been expecting. When he followed Brian into the large, tiled shower he was surprised when instead of dropping to his knees to suck Justin off, Brian simply soaped up a washcloth and proceeded to gently and carefully wash Justin thoroughly, from head to toe. It may not have been sexual in nature but it was fucking erotic as anything and by the time Brian was done massaging and washing his calves and feet Justin was rock hard and aching to feel Brian inside him again.
But it was only fair for Justin to return the favor, though when he tried to reach out and claim the washcloth Brian simply pulled him close, kissed him hard and long and then gently nudged him out to the bedroom.
"I'll be out in just a few minutes," Brian nodded and while Justin heard an odd sort of sadness in his tone, he obliged him but not before taking on more long, hard look at his entire body, he might have been covered in soapy suds with water running over him but he was hard, too, and Justin knew when he joined him in bed that he'd get what he needed – again.
True to his word, Brian came out of the bathroom not even three minutes later. Justin was lying on the bed on his side, head propped on his arm, simply waiting.
"Hey," Justin smiled, his gut twisting painfully at the sight of Brian, dripping wet and moving with the sanguinity of a cat as he knelt on the edge of the bed and slowly crawled towards him.
Justin rolled onto his back as Brian overtook him, his long body resting comfortably on top of Justin. It felt so good, so right; like no time had passed at all – Justin was relieved to find they still fit together like this.
"Hey," Brian whispered back, his lips just millimeters away.
Lifting his head slightly, Justin captured Brian's mouth with his and they kissed soft, and slow, and gentle. His hands gripped at Brian's back, tracing soft lines up and down while feeling the muscles as they moved beneath his skin. Justin would never tire of the feel of Brian's musculature beneath his fingertips. Brian's hands in return played in the thickness of Justin's damp hair, twirling and threading and massaging his scalp as they continued to kiss and refamiliarize themselves with the taste and feel and touch of the other. They remained like that for awhile; just kissing and touching, Brian's body weight oddly reassuring, making Justin feel safe.
"Fuck me," Justin finally whispered, unable to stand the hard press of Brian's cock against his leg and nibbling Brian's ear he spread his legs while lifting his hips against Brian.
Brian said nothing as he met Justin's advances and then they were as one again, no space between them as they connected once again in the way that had always worked for them, even when nothing else did.
After, they were lying side by side on the bed, Justin's sweat evaporating and causing goose bumps to pop up over his entire body.
"What are you doing here?" Brian asked quietly.
"What do you mean?" Justin countered, cautious. Brian sounded odd again, his tone slightly angry, but also sad. Justin simply wished Brian would say what he meant.
"I mean, what are you doing here?" Brian repeated, and Justin heard more anger, more frustration this time.
"I told you -," Justin started.
"Yeah, yeah. You saw a movie, it freaked you out, blah blah blah," Brian said, and Justin was surprised by the bitterness in his tone.
"What's wrong with you?" Justin leaned up on his elbows and looked at Brian. The older man was lying on his back, his hands resting on his abdomen and his eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling.
"Do you intend to stay here, now? In New York? Or are you going back to LA and I'll never see you again?"
"I really hadn't thought about it," Justin replied and it was true. He hadn't thought about it; after leaving the screening of that documentary he hadn't been thinking more than five minutes ahead, knowing only that he needed to see, and feel, and touch Brian. Now he had, and now came the time for all the complicated questions about what came next. Though Justin was surprised it was Brian bringing these things up.
"Well fucking think about it," Brian said loudly and angrily before he rose quickly from the bed and retreating to the adjoining bathroom, leaving Justin to wonder what in the hell was going on?
Brian came out of the bathroom a few minutes later looking apologetic.
"What's going on with you?" Justin asked before Brian had another chance to speak, or yell, or whatever.
"I'm here, isn't that what all that stuff was about the last few months? Isn't this what you wanted? Me, here, in your bed? Isn't that why you got Molly into that seminar, why you got me that animation work, why you sent me those flowers?" Justin sat up in the bed, crossing his legs.
"Why are you mad at me now?" Justin added.
"I'm not. It's…nothing. It's nothing," Brian shook his head and returned to the bed, sitting cross legged across from Justin and while he tried to appear nonchalant, Justin could see him struggling with something and he just wanted to know what the hell it was.
"Is it Sean?" Justin asked, so very curious about the man and dying to ask Brian a million questions about him but a little nervous to do so at the same time. The man had been intimately familiar with Brian's body, more than any one night stand trick would ever be. That was a privilege Justin had previously been the only one to hold, and knowing he'd fucked Sean, maybe even made love to him, on more than one occasion hurt Justin deeply. He knew it shouldn't, and that he had no real right to feel that way – Brian had been free to do whatever he wanted – he still did feel it, and seeing the haunted look of sadness that had been in Sean's eyes earlier in the day didn't help, because Justin thought maybe Sean was the kind of guy he might have been friends with, in another life.
"No," Brian shook his head, but the conviction and certainty he usually had in his voice was absent, and Justin wasn't sure he believed him anyway.
"Who is he?" Justin asked, pressing ever so gently, mindful of Brian's propensity to run away when pressured, but also mindful that this Brian before him now was different. More tolerant – and more honest, Justin hoped.
"He's a guy," Brian said.
"How did you meet him? When did you meet him?"
"We met a few years ago. We were both going through some stuff, and we helped each other. That's it," Brian sighed, but he answered Justin's question nonetheless.
It wasn't much of an answer or explanation, but Justin knew from previous experience that getting information out of Brian was sometimes like pulling teeth.
"Some stuff?"
"Yes. Stuff," Brian leaned forward then, kissing Justin's neck and forcing him down onto his back.
Justin went, accepting for the moment Brian's vague answer and knowing that the kissing was his way to say the conversation was over. But Justin wasn't going to let it go so easily. He planned to ask him again, about Sean. But for the moment he would simply relish the feel of Brian on top of him, the familiar feel of his weight, of his hands, of his lips…Justin wrapped his arms around Brian and he rolled them both over so he was now lying on top of Brian.
"I've missed this. I just never knew how much," Justin murmured, lips tenderly nibbling along Brian's chin, down his neck, to his chest.
He let his hands feel and explore Brian's body, so familiar yet also different, and new. His hands traced lightly over his body, catching on his chest hair and lightly grazing his erect nipples. Justin could hear Brian's breathing grow labored as he continued to explore his body, moving slowly down his torso. Raising his eyes, Justin smiled to himself at the sight of him, eyes half-closed and mouth slightly agape. Justin was breathing softly, and the feel of Brian's hands on his back were soft and tender; he was tracing large circles on Justin's skin as Justin stopped his ministrations for a moment to press his ear to Brian's chest, listening to his heart beat. Justin had missed him – so fucking much and far more then he had even realized.
Justin let his fingers dance lazily on Brian's abdomen and he breathed a soft laugh as the older man flinched beneath him when his fingertips grazed his navel.
"Careful Sunshine, you'll wake the beast again," Brian murmured, his hands caressing Justin's head, shoulders, back.
"Promise?" Justin purred as he lifted his head to look up and into Brian's hazel eyes, pupils dilated so wide it was like staring into deep black pools of lust and passion.
Brian had called him Sunshine, and if Justin wasn't so fucking horny he might have burst into tears at the sound of that word coming from Brian. But there was no time for sentimentality, and Justin wasn't sure Brian would appreciate it anyway, not even the "new and improved" Brian.
Justin was continually marveled at Brian's handsomeness; hell, Justin would argue he was more beautiful now than when they'd first met. He had a few lines around his eyes, and some graying at his temples but fuck was it hot – it only added to the allure of him. Justin stared at his face, he took in every wrinkle, every pock mark, every tiny scar that marked some moment in the life of Brian Kinney. They weren't imperfections to Justin (though Brian likely thought differently), but rather all beautiful pieces of the puzzle that made up the likeness of this man. No one had ever, in all of Justin's years of dating and tricking, compared to the raw beauty that Brian not only exhibited, but exuded with his confidence and arrogance. Even lying naked in bed, saying not a word, he was the most powerful and charismatic man Justin could recall ever seeing – and he knew that would never change, no matter how "mild-mannered" Brian might become.
Brian's grip tightened just a bit, then, and Justin wondered if Brian was holding on to him, figuratively and literally, as tightly as he was holding on to Brian – desperate for that magical connection that had brought them together that first night, desperate to feel that spark of life that they seemed to give to each other. Suddenly Justin wanted him - more than he could remember ever wanting him before. The surge of emotional yearning and need was so strong he thought it might make him burst into tears.
Pressing soft kisses to his chest Justin resumed his ministration, slowly moving down Brian's body towards his navel and the short, somewhat manicured tuft of black hair from which sprung his now semi-hard cock. Justin heard Brian groaning softly as his tongue danced lightly across his skin.
Nearing his target Justin looked up at him, basking in the soft lights of the city coming in the floor-to-ceiling windows and his heart nearly broke from the love that coursed through me. This was right. This was real. This was true. Justin couldn't think of a single reason why he'd resisted Brian for so long. He didn't know why he thought he ever could live, and love, happily with anyone else.
Moving lower, Justin nipped at Brian's hips, grinning at the sight of his now fully hard cock – beautiful and thick and begging for Justin to pay it some attention. Justin smiled to himself and rose slightly, poised above him and ready to take him in his mouth when he saw it.
The scar.
But something about it was wrong. It was an angry, harsh red, like it was recent; and it was…fuck! It was on the wrong side. Justin felt his stomach turn violently as he shifted his eyes to Brian's other hip and saw a matching scar, but a much softer pink in color. It was faded; because it was the one from before.
Justin looked up the length of Brian's long, lean body to find him staring back, expectantly but also with sadness around his eyes.
Justin was definitely not in the mood anymore, and he moved up the bed until he was lying next to Brian, their heads on the same pillow.
"Was this why you never came to LA?" Justin asked, not accusing, but sincerely concerned that Brian had gone through all that shit, again, but this time alone.
But Brian simply shook his head.
"When, then?" he asked, draping his arm across Brian's torso, desperate for contact; as if that would somehow be enough to make up for his absence when Brian would have needed him most.
"A few years ago," Brian answered, turning his head to look at Justin. Justin inched closer, pressing his forehead to Brian's and feeling the soft puff of his breath on his face.
Justin sighed before leaning in to kiss him gently.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here," Justin whispered, his lips pressed to Brian's and his hand moving up Brian's body to cup his cheek and stroke his jaw.
"Don't," Brian replied, shaking his head ever so slightly while his hand softly rubbed up and down the arm Justin had draped across him.
"It wasn't as bad the second time. At least I knew what to expect," Brian turned his head and stared up at the ceiling.
"But you were alone," Justin whispered and to his surprise, Brian shook his head.
"No. I actually stayed with Lindsay for most of it. After the surgery and during the radiation. Thank God for her. Though I think it was a little rough for Gus."
Justin couldn't imagine it, didn't want to imagine it. That poor kid.
"When I told her about it," Brian continued, "she offered to have another baby for me."
"I couldn't, though. I couldn't have another kid only to watch him or her grow up apart from me. It's hard enough with Gus."
"So you didn't do it," Justin prompted and when Brian shook his head Justin's heart broke for him.
"Nope," he said and Justin felt his eyes prick painfully with tears. The thought that there would never be another Brian Kinney baby somehow seemed wrong.
"Fuck. Brian. I should ha-," Justin started, but Brian kissed him silent.
He should have been here, Justin wanted to say; if he had been around maybe Brian would have had another kid and maybe they would be raising him, or her, together. Now the option wasn't even there to be had. It was simply gone, forever.
"I'm surprised no one told me," Justin said instead when they broke apart, pushing away his emotions. Brian didn't need him crying all over him...besides there was no going back. What was done, was done. There was no use being upset about it.
"No one knew but Lindsay, and I threatened her with death if she told. And I was already living in New York and since I wasn't really talking to the old gang anymore...," he replied.
"And then you met Sean," Justin concluded, feeling Brian nod. They had helped each other through some stuff…
It made sense, now. The way Brian had reacted with his cancer diagnosis the first time – of course with a second diagnosis he'd institute a fuck buddy rather than trick constantly and run the risk unwanted questions and attention to the scars on his body. Because going without sex would not be a reasonable option for Brian, and being seen as anything less than perfect was even less of an option.
Justin moved even closer, laying his upper body across Brian's chest and wrapping one arm tightly around his waist while the other went to his head, cradling it.
At least he was alive now. Alive and well and...
"You're okay now?" Justin asked, trying to mask his panicked fear and keeping his face pressed against Brian's skin, certain if he looked him in the eye Brian would see the guilt and fear and pity and Justin knew Brian would hate to see any of that.
"So far so good," Brian answered after a moment, and Justin felt him press a kiss to the top of his head.
Author's Notes:
If you think Justin gave in to Brian too easily...just wait. There's still TWO more chapters coming. And more information will be revealed.
Other notes for this chapter:
The information about the Tribeca Film Festival is accurate and true. You can see the 2013 program and films online still, /assets/Film_Guide_ .
**The documentary I mentioned here was one of two things that inspired me to write this story. It's called Bridegroom. and if you have Netflix (US only, probably) you can stream it. It's likely available to get from Amazon, iTunes, and maybe even Hulu (I haven't checked). I recommend it, though it is incredibly sad. The fact that the man's partner dies is not a spoiler - it's explained in the first five minutes of the documentary that it happened. What's interesting is the journey of the two men, and what happens after the one man's death. That's all I'll say about it - but - check it out if you can.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting!