"broken pieces, break into me
showing perfectly what you should be"
March/April 2013
**Brian**
When Brian hung up on Aaron, incredibly amused that the guy had actually called to tell Brian to back off, he laughed out loud to his empty apartment. He knew it was wrong of him, to revel in the jealous ravings of the other man, but Aaron was seriously kidding himself if he thought he was any real competition for Justin. Even though Brian was across the country, and out of sight, he knew Justin was thinking about him; and if Aaron was acting at all jealous and controlling to Justin, like he'd just acted on the phone…well, Brian knew the relationship wouldn't last long.
Going to his shower, Brian stood under the water, letting it run as hot as he could stand it while he just smiled to himself. The encounter with Aaron on the phone had made him slightly hard, and while he desperately wanted to jack off – Sean was coming over and so Brian resisted touching himself, instead wrapping a towel loosely around his waist and waiting, shifting and squirming uncomfortably on his sofa until Sean showed up.
The other man didn't question Brian's state of dress, and he didn't protest when Brian ordered him to strip. They fucked on the sofa, but not face to face like had been the norm for the last four or five months; instead Brian fucked him from behind.
Things got stranger still, after that. Brian wouldn't say he felt guilty, or like he was doing anything wrong with Sean, but he also knew full well that Sean had begun, in earnest, to think there was a real future for them as a couple. But instead of talking to him about it, Brian reacted by pulling away. He stopped kissing him, and he would no longer fuck Sean face to face. Brian even went to a bathhouse one afternoon and fucked the first guy to approach him; he was nothing but a warm body allowing him to get off. Later, when Sean called to ask to come over Brian cruelly tossed it in his face that he'd gone to the bathhouse, as if daring the other man to assert some sort of "relationship" rule on him so Brian could kick his ass to the curb. But Sean didn't say anything – and he continued not to say anything, not calling Brian again for four days. Brian felt like an ass – and he wondered why he didn't just talk to Sean, why he didn't just lay out the situation he was facing; why he didn't just tell him he thought things had gone too far and they needed to end it all. Finally, when Sean did call again, Brian could tell he was upset, but holding back. And it only made Brian feel even worse.
The straw that broke the camel's back, per se, was in late April when Brian went for his annual cancer screen, hormone shots, and general health exam. The doc told him all appeared good, but they wouldn't know for sure until the blood tests came back in a few days.
As he always did after getting his hormone injection, Brian felt heightened emotionally, and sexually – even though the doctor insisted it was all psychosomatic. Regardless of the cause, Brian was charged up, horny, and anxious. Calling Sean, the other man met him back at his apartment and they screwed, than went out to Royals before returning to Brian's for more.
Two days later, after two more nights of sex and pool, Brian got the call from the lab about his blood work. His levels were elevated. Not enough that it was worrisome, but enough that the doctor wanted to schedule another blood test in one month just to make sure it wasn't an indicator that the cancer cells hadn't been eradicated with his previous treatments.
The doctor insisted it was all pretty routine, and for someone in Brian's situation, who was approaching four years of remission, he emphatically pressed Brian shouldn't worry. Brian didn't worry – externally. But inside his own head he was already on his death bed, planning his funeral, and freaked out with how Gus would take it. He had already assumed the worst.
It was a Friday night, and Brian spent what he knew would be his last weekend with Sean, giving him one last good time, before he sat him down on the sofa on Sunday and said four words he honestly thought he'd never say to anyone, at least not seriously.
"We need to talk."
**2009**
The second half of 2009 was very nearly the best time of Brian's life – his post-Pittsburgh life anyway. Personally, he was living large – out every night and getting as much if not more attention then he'd ever received in Pittsburgh; all thoughts of a certain blonde were thrust from his mind, barely a blip on his peripheral radar. Professionally, Kinnetik was breaking all records with its quarterly earnings. Brian, his staff, and his company were making huge strides in the advertising world and consequently so much money Brian was considering doubling the salary of his staff in both offices.
He was forming a solid and healthy relationship with his kid and that September, Gus's ninth Birthday, Brian was planning to take two weeks off and spend it up in Vermont with him. There wasn't much (or any, really) nightlife in Montepelier, but Brian had done some preliminary research on that front, and had set up several "dates" with a few local men using the newest and greatest online tool for hookups, Grindr. He would simply have to manage the gaps in between, but he was confident in knowing he would still be able to get off a few times while he was out of his great big city full of ready and willing gay men.
Lindsay's parents also traveled to Vermont for Gus's birthday and so Brian scheduled most of his "dates" for the few days they were around. He wasn't about to have some sort of extended family bonding experience with them; so he left Lindsay to entertain her parents and he left Gus to get quality time with them while he went off to get some of the special brand of attention that he required.
It was on the third night of the Peterson's five night visit when Brian's "date" said and did something that was far, far too familiar, and that struck a deep and paralyzing fear into Brian's heart.
They were in the woods, at a small park off the road just on the edge of town. No other cars were around. The guy was on his knees, sucking off Brian as he leaned back on the hood of the car, the dissipating heat from the cooling engine warming his back.
The guy was good – his tongue was strong yet soft – and his fingers knew just where to press and fondle. Brian came hard, and was about to congratulate the guy on a blowjob well done, when the guy spoke up first.
"I don't want to freak you out or anything, but I noticed you had a tiny lump on your testicle," he looked at Brian earnestly. "You should really get that checked out."
Three minutes later Brian was in his car and headed back to Lindsay's. He had his hand down his pants as he fondled his scrotum in search of the mysterious lump. He had been diligent, hyper-aware even, of making sure to check himself – for years he'd done it, and he did almost every day – the very real fear of the cancer recurring spurring him on to methodically and meticulously examine every square millimeter of his scrotum. But as he drove back to Lindsay's house, one hand steering the car and the other hand rolling and squeezing his testicle as he searched in earnest for the lump, he honestly couldn't recall when the last time he'd checked had been. A week? Two? Whenever it was, when last he'd felt there'd been no lumps – not that he could discern with his fingers – which meant if this supposed lump existed, this would be early detection and that could only be a good thing...
The following day, though it had only been eight days into his planned sixteen day stay, Brian packed up and headed back to New York, making an appointment with his doctor for that afternoon and as she examined him, as her expression grew more grim, Brian's uneasy feeling only increased.
"Good news, and bad news," she said finally, returning to her office where she'd left Brian alone to retrieve his films. He could see them in her hand, the hyper-colorful, psychedelic nature of them more startling this second time around; it was all to reminiscent of the last time Brian had gone through this exercise and Brian had to shake the sense of déjà vu that was threatening to overpower him.
"Let me guess, it's probably a seminoma," Brian deadpanned, and she nodded.
"Based on your history, yes. But of course we won't know until we remove it for the biopsy," she added.
"Right. And assuming it hasn't spread already," Brian mumbled and he watched her smile warmly and nod.
"You're correct," she said, opening the thick file that contained all of Brian's medical records. There was a lot in there, some of it dating back to the early 80s; broken bones, ER visits, STD treatments, the cancer... "And if it is in fact a seminoma, that's good news. Among other things, it means we can do radiation treatments and avoid chemotherapy."
"And if it's not the same as before…," Brian trailed off even as he knew what she would say in response.
"I would recommend Chemotherapy," she replied, "just to be safe."
"Just to be safe," Brian repeated. Chemo…fuck. It was bad enough to be sick all the time with radiation, but to lose all his hair too? Brian lifted his hand to run it through his hair – only slightly aware he was doing it.
"I know this is a lot to take in. But I'm optimistic. So you should be too."
Brian ever so subtly rolled his eyes and pretended not to see the doctor offer a tiny smirk.
"There's something else," she added, her expression growing more serious.
"I can't wait," Brian mumbled.
"Once we perform this biopsy you'll be without either testicle. Among other things, this means you will no longer be able to produce sperm. You will no longer be able to father children. You should seriously consider if you want to freeze some sperm. For future use."
"No," Brian replied, almost immediately.
"A decision like this shouldn't be made lightly," She pressed, "you understand you'll be completely infertile once your second testicle is removed."
"I know."
"What about sex?" Brian asked candidly and she nodded.
"You'll be able to perform once we start you on hormones. Since you'll be losing your second testicle, and the source of your testosterone, we will have to supplement you with the hormone. There are pills, or injections you can take. I personally think the injections are more effective, but if you'd prefer the pill form we can go that route. But that's not something you should worry about yet. Let's get through the surgery and then we'll talk radiation and hormone replacement. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Brian mumbled.
Brian left the doctor's office with a stack of literature and pamphlets, and when he got home he flipped through them finding one about fathering children from frozen sperm samples. He glanced at it for about ten seconds before he tore it in half and threw it into the trash.
Two days later, when he called Lindsay and told her why he had left and what was happening, she immediately offered to carry another child for him, but Brian refused. Even though he agreed, when she pointed it out, that they made beautiful babies together, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't be a father again, not living where he did and not when Lindsay and Gus were already so far away anyway. Then she cried, and they talked candidly about a great many things, including the updates and changes Brian was planning to make to his will – namely that all his assets and money would go into a trust fund for Gus, available to him when he was 21 and to be administered by Lindsay. She was scared and told him more than once that talking about such things made her feel sick and gross inside, but Brian pushed because it was important. He didn't really think he was going to die – not really – but it was still important Lindsay know of the arrangements in his will, even if he came out of surgery and radiation unscathed. Better to be prepared…
The following week Brian spent his time getting his affairs in order for the extended absence he was about to take from Kinnetik. He told Cynthia of the diagnosis – and threatened her with death if she so much as breathed a word to anyone, even Ted. Then, he made a big show of planning an extended vacation to Greece, and when he left Kinnetik the day before his surgery his staff wished him a safe trip – they wouldn't expect him back until Christmas, maybe even New Year's. He'd work some from Vermont – he was going to stay with Lindsay while undergoing the radiation – but he remembered far too vividly how sick he'd been the first time, and he wasn't about to try and return to work too soon; particularly not when he lived alone and really had no one who could take care of him.
Then Brian was under the knife once more, and three days after that he was comfortably installed at Lindsay's with his radiation treatments scheduled at the hospital in town.
The treatments, and the aftermath, the second time around were exactly how Brian remembered it being the first time, and he was miserable. The worst moments were on the days when Lindsay had a late class and it was only Brian and Gus in the house. They were usually only alone together for about an hour or so, but it was incredibly stressful for Brian; he didn't want Gus to see him sick, or have to take care of him, but undoubtedly he would be overcome with nausea whenever Lindsay was unavailable. Gus seemed to take it all in stride, but Brian was concerned the stress and worry of watching Brian struggle through his treatments was doing untold damage to his young son. It was only a few weeks in that Brian took to locking himself in his room when he was alone with Gus and feeling exceptionally bad, he simply could not have Gus anywhere near him when he was vomited and shitting himself from the so-called "treatments". It was a relief when Lindsay's late days finally ended halfway through Brian's radiation treatments and she could be there for him when he needed her.
Nine weeks later Brian returned to New York and Kinnetik. He was significantly thinner and when Cynthia, who had done a stellar job of running things, along with Ted, while Brian had been out, burst into tears at the first sight of him, he nearly started laughing in her face.
Better too thin than dead, he'd teased, inciting her to hit his arm, hard, but it stopped the flow of her tears.
Cynthia had known the reason behind Brian's absence, and while he hadn't told Ted outright, he thought maybe the other man had his suspicions. Still, Brian had impressed upon them both that the business should run as normal while he was "traveling". And it had. There'd been a tiny blip in the first two weeks, as everyone adjusted to Brian's absence, but then things resumed their normal pattern and had gone on as usual. Brian was quite proud of himself for having such capable employees.
Then, out of the blue and as if to add insult to injury, three days after his return to New York he got a call from his sister. His mother had succumbed to Breast Cancer.
Brian hung up on Claire without saying a word in response to the blunt announcement. He wasn't sure if he was feeling sad, or happy, or indifferent. He hadn't thought about his mother or his sister in years and nothing would change on that front. More than happy to shut the door forever on his shitty family, Brian called his lawyer later that same day and had him deal with Claire, the funeral arrangements, and the will. He told him to take care of it all – pay for the service and handle the will and estate stuff, and that whatever was left to him by his mother, if anything, should go to his sister and her two piece of shit kids.
Brian didn't necessarily like them, let alone love them, but he didn't want them destitute over a fucking funeral for a miserable woman either. Plus, he really wanted nothing more to do with any of the people who had purported to be his family. He didn't want or need money and even if he did he wasn't sure he could take it from such horrible, abusive people. People who had never really loved him and had certainly never accepted him. People who had actually thought he was a child molester. No – he wanted to cut each and every tie to those people.
Brian never heard from Claire again after that first call, and when Brian later asked his lawyer about the will he was told there had been a small pension, a tiny nest egg of $45,000 that was to be split between he and Claire. Brian was glad to not see a penny of that money; he certainly didn't need it.
As Brian healed and resumed his life in New York, he found himself encountering the same physical barrier he had the first time through his recovery – specifically, he couldn't get it up. But this time it was different. By having his second testicle removed, Brian had also lost the source of his testosterone. He'd managed to avoid thinking, while he'd been going through radiation, about the fact that he'd have to go to a doctor throughout the year to get hormone shots to replace the testosterone he was no longer producing naturally – but now that he was back in New York, and feeling better it was all he could think about.
He'd never considered himself a "manly" man, but even still he was proud of his maleness. The fear that now that might change, even if it was unnoticeable by most people, was terrifying to Brian, and even after he started getting the hormone shots and his testosterone levels started to rise back towards the "normal" range – and he was cleared for resuming sexual activity – he couldn't perform. Not even for himself, which made the possibility of going out to get off not even an option.
Brian was impotent and scared to death and just wanted to have a fucking orgasm.
When he told his doctor of his problems, she assured him it was normal, and gave him literature and pamphlets for dealing with cancer, and recovery, and sexual performance anxiety. In addition, she recommended to him that maybe he should talk to someone about his problems, that maybe it was all in his head, and she gave him a list of support groups. Not only were there several cancer survivor groups, but there were gay men groups, a sexual anxiety group, and a body image group.
The thought of going to a "group" to talk about his problems was laughable to Brian, but when everything else – the breathing techniques, the relaxation techniques, the acupuncture, the homeopathic attempts – failed to elicit any response, he regretfully realized it was his last hope, and what would it hurt? It wasn't like he had to keep going if it sucked.
This time around he was alone. He didn't have Justin around – encouraging him and being attentive and accepting. He had no one, and though Lindsay offered to listen Brian couldn't talk to her – not really. She couldn't understand.
That was how Brian, a few months later, found himself sitting in a small group of men, listening as several of them described their various afflictions and issues.
That was how Brian met Sean.
Brian didn't talk the first meeting he attended. He simply listened, and observed. The men around him, some gay, some straight, were of varying ages and ethnicities. He'd noticed Sean right away, if only because of his red hair and freckled complexion. But he didn't impress upon Brian beyond that. He was just another face in a circle of faces. What made Brian take further notice of him was the fact that when he spoke to the group about his affliction, he maintained eye contact. He didn't look away, and he didn't lower his eyes to the floor when Brian stared back at him. He held his gaze, and he wasn't ashamed. And that impressed Brian.
The group itself (a sexual anxiety group) was an interesting mix of men who were suffering from some pretty horrific things; there was a guy who was still suffering from nerve damage due to a botched circumcision when he'd been born, there was another cancer survivor – a gay man, who made sure everyone knew he had been a power-bottom before his cancer – who'd had his prostate removed, there was a small flamboyant man who had been gay bashed and his attackers had attempted (and failed) to castrate him in the attack, there was a guy with a serious inferiority complex because his dick was no more than three inches when fully hard, and several others. In a way, the awful circumstances the other men were facing helped Brian realize his situation wasn't so bad – he could be so much worse off.
After that first session, Brian approached Sean and introduced himself. He was incredibly curious about the other man. Sean, in high school, had been attacked in the locker room after gym class, and several of the jocks in his school had tried to burn him, resulting in second and third degree burns on his inner thighs, and part of his scrotum. Thankfully, his penis had escaped mostly unscathed Sean told Brian later that evening when they walked out from the meeting together, and aside from some really nasty looking scarring, his dick was in perfect working order.
Brian had laughed out loud at that, and when Sean threw him a shocked look he shrugged and shook his head, "It's kind of funny?"
And when, after just a moment's pause, Sean shrugged and offered a small laugh in return, Brian knew he'd finally found someone in the city he could connect with.
Brian only attended three more meetings of that group – giving up on it after he realized he simply couldn't relate to the other men in the group; he wasn't compelled by their tragedies, and he found their struggles and stories a hindrance to his own healing. He still saw Sean though; they would meet up a few nights a week at Royals and play pool. Sometimes they'd talk, sometimes not and it wasn't until almost two months into their friendship that Brian broached the subject of becoming "fuck buddies".
He'd been trying to go out – he'd slowly gotten back his libido, but it wasn't what it used to be. Brian could no longer go more than one time in a night, and he found the idea of random strangers fondling his fake balls, or possibly noticing his two matching scars and asking about them gave him far more anxiety than he had ever expected. He wasn't as vain as he used to be, completely and totally obsessed with being "perfect", but he was still far too proud to run the risk of a trick giving him a blow-job and noticing the tiny scars. Because maybe they'd know what the scars mean, and then they'd know he no longer had both his balls…and then what would they think?
He tried to overcome the anxiety of that very thing happening, but when a man he picked up at a bathhouse did in fact see the more recent scar and then asked about it, Brian pulled away and walked out without another look back. And the next night he broached the topic to Sean.
He was sure to make very clear to Sean it would be a strictly physical arrangement. In the few group meetings Brian had attended, Sean had spoken about having trouble meeting guys who didn't freak out when they saw the scarring on his body and so Brian thought it might be beneficial for them both – and after thinking it over for a few days, Sean got back to Brian.
He agreed.
"We need to talk."
"Okay. What's going on?" Sean sat on the sofa next to Brian, cradling a cup of coffee.
"I think we need to clear something up," Brian shifted. He wasn't good at this – he'd never been good at this. He didn't talk; not about feelings and emotions and relationships.
Sean nodded, "I've been expecting this."
Brian arched his brow. That had been an unexpected response.
"You're more transparent than you think," Sean smiled sadly, "and after nearly four years I've gotten pretty good at reading you."
Brian crossed his arms.
"So, what have you observed," Brian said, feeling a bit defensive and surprised to be faced with the fact that Sean seemed to think he could see Brian - not that he should be surprised because he'd always wondered with the way Sean would watch him - but still faced with it, it was disconcerting. He always tried to be so careful, but maybe he'd grown too comfortable in Sean's presence and had let too much show; maybe he'd let too much of what he thought he still kept behind his mask, show through.
"You're trying to let me down easy," Sean sighed, "You know how I feel about you, but you don't feel the same about me."
Brian remained silent and Sean sighed again, reaching out to set his mug on the coffee table.
"I get it, and I know. I have known from the beginning. You've never once given me even the slightest hint that you felt anything more for me than friendship. And that was okay. It still is okay. I might regret this in the end, letting you basically use me, but I went into this with my eyes wide open."
Sean stared at Brian with a bemused look on his face that confused Brian before he added, "and I know you're still in love with Justin. That you want him back."
Brian's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"I told you, you're not as transparent as you think," Sean offered a smile, but it was full of sadness.
Brian let out a long breath and shrugged.
"I didn't plan this," he said and Sean just nodded.
"I know. Like I said, I knew what I was getting into with you, and I'm just glad things have lasted as long as they have," Sean stared at his hands and Brian felt the punch of it in his gut.
He would have preferred Sean rage at him, call him names and accuse him of being an asshole and using him ruthlessly – because it felt true. Hell, it was true.
Sean sighed, "I knew what I signed up for – you were explicitly clear from the very start. And I'm not sorry I fell in love with you. Even though I knew you'd never love me back. I never really expected you to love me back. I hoped, sure, but it was never something I thought could really happen, and that certainly says more about me than you, but it's true. And even though it hurts more now than ever before, I stuck around because I'd rather have just a little piece of you, than none of you at all."
Brian found his choice of words extremely interesting, and slightly troubling, and he suddenly found his behavior with regards to Sean quite shameful and embarrassing. He had known, for years, how Sean had felt about him and he'd just ignored it. He let the other man just stew in emotions that he not only didn't expect to be reciprocated, but he knew would not be reciprocated. That, more than any other reason, was why it had to end. Sean knew Brian was capable of love, Brian had admitted to loving someone once, and they couldn't go backwards now; Sean knew it was in him to give those feelings and emotions away and no matter what Sean said, it would only be a matter of time before he would think he could "change" Brian, that he could be the one he could learn to love. Brian knew how it worked, and he couldn't have Sean thinking Brian was actively choosing not to let those feelings take seed, like there was something wrong with Sean that Brian refused to let himself love him. No, Brian couldn't let Sean think there was any chance at romantic love at all; because there wasn't. Brian cared about Sean, and he probably even loved him as a friend, but he'd never be in love with him. He couldn't. His heart was full of love for only one person, and there was simply no more room – nor would there ever be.
And Brian didn't want there to be either, whether he ever saw Justin again or not.
"It's not just that," Brian said. "I can't keep going like this, knowing how you feel about me and knowing there's no chance I'll ever reciprocate those feelings. I don't want to hurt you more than I likely already have. I do care about you enough to know what this is between us is going to hurt you. It already has hurt you. You admitted as much."
"I appreciate that, but I'm a big boy. I can handle this," Sean answered, "I have been handling it. And I really don't want this to be over. Like I said – I'll take even just a tiny part of you over no part of you at all."
Brain sighed. This was not good. Didn't Sean have any respect for himself? And how had Brian let him get so fucking wrapped up and obsessed.
"No," Brian shook his head, "There's no other option. I can't do pieces of me anymore. It's got to be all or nothing."
"Bri-," Sean started but Brian cut him off.
"No, Sean. Just…I just can't anymore. Or rather I don't want to. I -," Brian paused, unsure. He what? Wanted to punish himself for basically leading Sean on? Wanted to be lonely and alone because of how he'd hurt not only Sean, but Justin?
Justin…
"I need this to end. For a little while anyway," Brian finally said, "I need to figure out what I want."
"I think you know what you want," Sean sighed and Brian avoided looking at him, "or rather who."
"Maybe," he mumbled.
"What are you going to do then, fly to LA? Declare your love and hope he takes you back?" Sean asked and Brian heard the thinly veiled frustration in his voice.
"I don't know what I'm going to do," Brian answered truthfully. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet.
"What if he doesn't want you back," Sean said then, softer, as he moved slightly closer to Brian.
"Will you want me back?"
Brian shook his head. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."
"So this is it. You're really ending this for good. And forever?" Sean stared at Brian, his face betraying sadness, but also anger and disappointment.
Brian shrugged and nodded, "I have to."
"This was not how I saw this weekend ending," Sean said softly before he reached out and put his hand on Brian's thigh, moving closer until their knees touching.
Brian stared at their legs. He would miss Sean. No matter what did or didn't happen with Justin, Brian knew he'd miss Sean. He'd been a good friend, and he was a good fuck, too.
Brian raised his head slowly and stared into Sean's eyes for a long moment.
"One last time?" Sean pulled off his t-shirt and climbed on Brian's lap, straddling his hips.
Brian wanted to say no. It wasn't right after what they'd just talked about…but he felt so good, his cock pressing against Brian's, the thin material of their sweat pants doing next to nothing to mute the sensations of their matching bulges – and it didn't help that Brian had no underwear on.
Leaning forward slightly Brian pulled off his tank then letting his fingers play over the other man's chest, feeling and looking one last time. There was no harm in one last time, right?
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and with an exasperated sigh, Sean rose, "I'll get it."
Brian heard Sean pad across the floor while he remained on the sofa, not really paying much attention to what was happening at the door and instead trying to figure out if he'd just been spared making yet one more mistake with regards to Sean. One last time was probably not a very good idea.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Brian sat forward and called out, "Who is it?"
There was a slight pause, causing Brian to glance towards the door just as Sean moved it slightly wider and turned his head towards Brian, "It's Justin."
The words hung in the air, Brian could practically see them written across the empty space above Sean's head and for a long few seconds Brian didn't quite understand them – Justin? Justin Taylor? His Justin?
Then he was scrambling up from the sofa, spurred into action by the fear that by the time he reached the door Justin would have disappeared, run away again.
His heart was pounding wildly in his chest and he was on the verge of hyperventilating when he came up behind Sean and saw Justin standing just outside his door – a very pained look on his face.
"Hi," Brian blurted with a gasp as he willed his body to calm the fuck down. It didn't want to obey him, though. The adrenaline surging through him and making him shiver and shake and pant with anxious anticipation of whatever might happen next.
Justin was standing outside his fucking door… This was a turn of events that Brian would have never predicted; not in a million years.
"Hi," Justin responded, his expression clearing somewhat as his eyes moved from Brian to Sean, then back to Brian again.
He could only imagine what Justin was thinking, but he honestly didn't care – all he had to do was keep him from leaving… Brian moved to stand next to Sean, and he saw in his peripheral vision the man turn to look at him. Brian ignored the pain he knew was there, and kept his eyes locked on Justin. He was afraid if he looked away that Justin would bolt – he already looked ready to turn tail and run and Brian needed him to stay – he needed to explain about Sean. Then Sean breathed a soft sigh and backed away. Brian could hear his soft footfalls on the hard wood as he retreated.
"Do you want to come in?"
"Uh. Sure," his eyes darted from Brian to just over his back, probably watching Sean walk away, then back to Brian again before he took a step over the threshold.
Brian kept his focus on him, following him with his eyes as he closed the door behind him. Justin stood a few feet into the apartment, staring down the hall that led to the bedrooms when Sean suddenly reappeared, fully dressed.
Brian felt a tiny twinge of guilt and sorrow – what had started out as a fairly painless and simple parting of ways (he refused to say breakup) was quickly becoming far more emotional than he'd expected. He could see the hurt in Sean's eyes, and even though the other man had said, more than once, that he knew Brian didn't love him like he'd loved Justin, seeing that proof played out before his eyes was very obviously causing him hurt.
"I'm gonna go," Sean said softly, stopping in front of Brian and staring at him. It felt to Brian like he was trying to memorize him – like he knew this was probably the last time they'd see each other. Brian nodded.
"Call me later," he added, leaning in slightly before seeming to catch himself and pulling away.
"Yeah," Brian said noncommittally. He wouldn't call – he knew it, and he knew Sean knew it. But it was something to say…
Sean held his gaze for one more second before he turned towards the door. Brian watched him smile at Justin – there was nothing joyful in it, just sadness and hurt, and then he was gone. And Brian knew he'd never see him again and he felt genuine sadness inside.
"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 lying because he'd actually interrupted what could have been a giant mistake, and Brian was actually thankful.
Justin nodded then turned to look around the apartment. Brian took the opportunity to put his tank back on, all the while gauging Justin's reaction to the apartment. It looked similar to the loft, Brian knew that – he'd done it on purpose. There was some comfort in the familiarity of the clean smooth lines and shining stainless steel and chrome fixtures.
Justin's examination paused on a framed photo Brian had of he and Gus together, from last Christmas. He smiled to himself as he looked at it – it was the only photo he had out.
"So…what are you doing here?" Brian asked cautiously, curiously. He didn't want to scare Justin away but the fact that he showed up on his doorstep was quite surprising.
"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, trailing off and fixing his face in a scowl.
"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 again, a faraway look on his face.
"It got you thinking...," Brian finally pressed.
Justin nodded, looking into Brian's face with an intensity that surprised Brian. He looked to be debating something with himself and though Brian was desperate to reach out and shake him by the shoulders and yell for him to just to spit it out, he forced himself to be calm and still. Justin had sought him out – he needed to let Justin say what he needed to say in his own way, and in his own time.
"About you," he finally blurted.
Brian nodded, feeling a small smile playing on his lips. Of course he had thought of Brian – because he still loved him and that was all Brian needed to know; everything else that would come they could handle, because the fact was they still had this connection – this impulse to run back to each other, for better or worse. Though things were much different now than nine years ago – as grown men Brian was certain they could make it work this time. All he had to do was figure out of that was Justin's end game. Did he come here to declare his undying love and ask Brian to try again? Or did he come here to finally end things? Brian thought he knew the answer, the former, but he was still fearful it would be the latter.
"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."
Brian's heart hammered in his chest…it was going to be the former. Justin was leading them both back to a reunion.
"You thought of me," Brian repeated softly, a warmth spreading in his chest as his body seemingly came alive with emotional want and need. His fingers and toes tingled and all his nerve endings were alight. It was like a switch had been flipped – and Brian finally understood how dead he'd been feeling inside ever since the night he'd selfishly decided not to board that flight to LA for Rage.
"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."
Brian breathed softly, speechless for once.
"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-,"
Brian arched his eyebrow and Justin gave a soft laugh.
"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?"
Brian felt the warmth and heat in his chest surge as he recalled the first time Justin had asked him that same question – how could he forget the first time he let the little twat top him? He remembered every moment of that night – it had been the first of only a handful of times he'd let Justin fuck him, but as the first it was of course ingrained in his memory and it wasn't lost on him the meaning behind Justin's words. He wanted to try again – he wanted to see where they stood now – so many years later.
"No; you're not too late. And yes, it still stands," Brian rolled his lips into his mouth as he lowered his head slightly. If he were Rage he would sweep Justin up into his arms and fly them to the top of the Empire State Building so they could fuck each other's brains out. Hell, he almost thought he could fly anyway, the amount of electricity surging through him making him feel like if he tried to take one step he might end up on the moon instead of the other side of his apartment.
Justin slowly approached him, stopping just out of arm's reach and giving Brian his own tiny smirk of a smile.
"So…," Justin raised his eyebrows, "what now?"
"I think I need a drink," Brian laughed with a shrug, moving to the kitchen.
It wasn't really what he wanted – but Brian was also terrified of what came next. Not just because it had been so long since they'd been together, but because he was still just a tiny bit suspect of Justin's state of mind. What about Aaron?
Brian poured himself a healthy tumbler full of Beam, and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge for Justin. One day, he'd have to ask the other man about why he no longer drank…
Brian returned to the entry-way where Justin still stood, and he handed him the bottle of water before he started towards the living room.
"So who was the guy?" Justin asked.
"He's no one," Brian fell onto the long sofa, propping his bare feet up on the glass coffee table
"He's not no one, Brian," Justin moved to sit in the same armchair where his jacket was slung over the back, "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. He was right, of course, but Brian didn't want to explain about Sean – that would mean he'd have to explain about other things and he wasn't ready to reveal the struggles he'd had in the years he and Justin had been apart. Justin held his stare, though, stubbornly refusing to back down and finally Brian sighed.
"His name is Sean. He's…a friend," Brian said with a half-shrug and downing 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, "what does it mean in this case?"
Brian sighed again. Fuck, he did not want to talk about this. He wasn't going to lie – so how could he possible explain Sean without telling Justin everything? The younger man was far too observant and smart not to keep asking all the right questions and it would eventually lead to a place Brian didn't want to go – not yet. Not after everything Justin had said about the documentary he'd seen, and his fear of Brian's death. He didn't need to know there'd been more cancer – that there was always the possibility of more cancer in the future.
"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, though it felt awkward and wrong on his face.
"Since when do you have, or even need, a fuck-buddy?" Justin asked and Brian could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to imagine any reason Brian might need, or want such a person in his life.
"He's been around for awhile," Brian shrugged; this was exactly what Brian had hoped to avoid – Justin's questions were taking them perilously close to the truth.
"Awhile? Obviously. Though I have to say it looked like you are more than a fuck buddy to him."
"Well I'm not," Brian said, "even if he'd like me to be."
"Even if he'd like…Jesus, Brian," Justin laughed.
"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 and bit more harshly than he really had intended but Brian knew he'd been awful and unfair to Sean, he didn't need Justin to spell it out to him – particularly when he didn't even know all the details.
"Don't change the subject," Justin said and Brian could see anger brewing beneath his slightly furrowed brow.
"I'm just saying. You're here, and it would seem Aaron doesn't know," Brian smirked, happy to have derailed the subject of Sean, and getting some perverse pleasure out of knowing he had won. Justin had chosen him; Aaron was the loser.
"We're having a rough patch if you must know," Justin said sullenly, glaring at Brian, "and you're avoiding my questions."
"Sorry," Brian bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
"You're not sorry," Justin laughed.
"True," Brian shrugged and did smile. He wasn't sorry. Aaron was a dick, and Justin deserved better than that jealous asshole.
"He called me," Brian said, "Aaron."
"What? When?" Justin's face opened up in surprise.
"Last month sometime, a few days after your birthday I think," Brian said, watching Justin carefully for any clues that things between he and Aaron were not as finished as Brian had hoped.
"What did he say?" Justin asked, crossing his arms.
"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," Brian replied, not liking the defensive posture and the level of emotional reaction he was getting from Justin. It would seem things with Aaron were not as resolved, or over, as Brian had hoped.
"How did you get Molly into that seminar?" Justin asked.
"I know the Dean of the School of Architecture. Old friends," Brian responded simply. It had been so easy; Albie had been thrilled to hear from Brian, and had been more than happy to extend special treatment to Molly at Brian's request.
"Of course," Justin sighed.
"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," Brian continued, wanting Justin to see, to really understand the kind of possessive man Aaron had been. Not that he didn't already know – obviously something else had happened to make Justin want to give up and end that relationship.
"That's rich of him," Justin murmured.
Brian chewed his lower lip, working really hard to keep from smiling. Yeah, he had won this battle. Justin was so disillusioned by whatever Aaron had done that he'd come running to Brian. The fact that Brian was the man he'd thought of when faced with losing the love of his life? Also quite telling. It was rather hilarious and if Brian were a petty man, he'd run to the phone and dial Aaron's number just to laugh in his ear over the entire situation. But that would only hurt Justin – because even though he was at Brian's at that moment, there was still a long history of emotional baggage that he shared with Aaron, and Brian wasn't about to be the reason that baggage was ripped open. He didn't want to make things harder or more painful for Justin even if it would feel fucking good to throw it all back in Aaron's face.
"What happened? Did he get the wrong brand of gourmet coffee or something?" Brian teased, leaning forward on the sofa and resting his elbows on his knees. He didn't really want to know…but he couldn't help but be morbidly curious anyway.
"He lied to me. A big one. And I don't know if I can forgive him," Justin said.
"I don't really want to forgive him," Justin added after a pause.
A lie. Brian remembered, from all those years ago, how much the truth meant to Justin. Making an impulsive decision he dropped to his knees and shuffled the short distance from the sofa to the armchair and situated himself between Justin's legs.
"That's too bad," Brian said, resting his hands on Justin's knees before slowly raking them up his thighs.
"Bri-," Justin started, but Brian didn't let him finish.
Hands leaving Justin's thighs Brian reached out and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him to him and kissing him with such fierce need and urgency. His hands were lost in Justin's hair, gripping and pulling as he panted and breathed against the other man's lips – the taste and the feel so familiar and so fucking delicious. Brian never wanted the sensations to end – in fact he would be happy to spend the rest of his life kissing Justin, and touching Justin, and fucking Justin.
There was some hesitation, but then Brian felt Justin's hands react and reciprocate as he threaded one hand into Brian's hair and the other slipped beneath the thin fabric of his tank. Justin's fingers leaving white hot lines on Brian's skin as they lightly traced across his back, pressing and massaging and pulling him close.
When Justin scooted forward Brian felt the energy shift and he knew they were headed quickly towards sex. He wanted nothing more than to feel his cock inside Justin, the hot, tight pressure of his glorious ass surrounding him. But there was still one small piece of unfinished business, and as much as Brian wanted to be with Justin, he wanted Justin to be free from all his baggage even more – he wanted there to be no reason the younger man would feel guilty, or ashamed of their reunion. Brian wanted there to be no one else on Justin's mind when they finally fucked – Brian wanted Justin to think of nothing else but him, and he wasn't there yet.
Brian pulled away.
"What?" Justin said, breathless and flushed. He leaned forward trying to recapture Brian's lips.
"I can't," Brian sat back on his heels, whispering, "I won't be him."
"Him? Who?" Justin leaned forward again but Brian held up his hands, stopping him.
He stood slowly and moved away, the evidence of his desire tenting his sweats but he didn't care. He'd suffer a case of "blue balls" (metaphorically speaking of course) just to be sure that Justin was not distracted, and not suddenly wishing he could take back whatever might happen.
"What are you talking about?" Justin rose from the armchair and moved 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?"
The look of shock, and anger and pain on Justin's face sent a shiver through Brian – and he could hardly believe he was about to say and do what he was about to say and do, but it had to be done. Brian wouldn't, or rather couldn't, be the "other man".
"I won't be the guy you cheat with," Brian said softly hoping he was doing the right thing.
"Cheat? Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Justin's eyebrows rose comically and he stared at Brian with a look that could only be called incredulous.
Brian stepped towards the other man and grasped Justin's left hand, lifting it up to his face and twisting the ring on his finger. It was a quite blatant reminder that Justin was not a free man – that there was a quite a bit of unfinished business he needed to address.
"Remember this?"
Justin pulled his hand out from Brian's grasp and sighed.
"You have to talk to Aaron and decide if this is what you really want because…," Brian clenched his jaw and heaved a sigh before turning in a circle. This was all so fucking messed up!
"Fuck!" he yelled into the apartment.
Brian just wanted Justin. In his bed, in his life. He didn't want to send him away but it was pretty evident from the things Justin had said that the reasons he showed up on Brian's doorstep were driven by emotions stirred from a movie. He hadn't planned to come, which led Brian to believe he still thought maybe there was a chance he'd reunite with Aaron. And Brian couldn't go down that path, couldn't let himself feel Justin beneath him once again if there was even the slightest chance he would go back to that other man. Brian couldn't do it – his heart wouldn't be able to handle the pain. He needed Justin to choose – and he felt like the world's biggest hypocrite for making him do so.
"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.
"You have to end things with him, first," Brian said, rather reluctantly. "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. He didn't sound angry, or accusatory, just curious if not also a bit frustrated.
But Brian only shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. He would explain later – when he knew that Justin's reappearance in his life wasn't just a fluke. When he knew that whatever they were starting up again was going to lead to…somewhere…then he'd open up. He wanted to talk to Justin, to tell him everything. He wanted this time to be different. But not yet.
"Brian," Justin moved forward.
"No," Brian's jaw clenched and he took a step back.
"Please. Just…end it with him first."
Justin left not long after, but without any promises of returning. Brian was terrified it would be the last he'd see of him – that when faced with ending the relationship that had apparently healed all his wounds (wounds inflicted by Brian no less), Justin would realize the error of his ways and tell Brian to fuck off permanently.
And it was true, Brian had regretted sending Justin away the moment he'd left – and he spent the next hour wandering aimlessly around his apartment realizing just how lonely and alone he really was. The one friend he'd had in the city, Sean, was gone now and though he'd likely come back if Brian were to call him, was that fair? Wouldn't he be doing an even worse disservice to him, using him simply to fill the hole Justin would leave in his life? And he wouldn't even be filling a hole, because there had been no one, ever, who could live up to that irritating blonde little twat for Brian's affections.
As one hour stretched into two, Brian poured himself a few more glasses of Beam and tried to watch an old Marlon Brando flick that just happened to be playing on cable – but he was so distracted he couldn't pay attention and he ended up turning it off after twenty minutes.
When his phone rang a half hour later, Brian lunged for it, answering without checking the caller id.
"Justin?" he breathed, yearning to hear the other man's voice.
Instead there was a bitter laugh and then a long sigh, "No. It's Aaron."
"Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell do you want now," Brian laid back on his sofa, stretching out his long legs and trying to keep his demons at bay. There were only two possible reasons Aaron was calling him – to gloat over winning back Justin's affections, or to act the part of a sore loser and bitch Brian out for "stealing his man". Brian hoped it was the latter.
"I hope you're happy with yourself," Aaron said and Brian smiled – this was the latter and he had won. He had fucking won!
"You've managed to singlehandedly ruin not only my life, but Justin's life. If you think he'll be happy going back to you-," Aaron laughed.
"I know all about your relationship," he went on, "if you can even call it that. You are a user, an abuser, and a slut."
Brian grinned wider into his empty apartment. The names couldn't hurt him – he knew what he used to be, and he also knew he wasn't any of those things anymore. Though not necessarily because of any conscious choice, but more by necessity and yet he found it wasn't so bad. He didn't miss tricking every night as much as he'd thought he would – though he did demand to get off almost daily…hence Sean's presence in his life. But now it would seem like maybe he'd have Justin and that could only be a good thing. Brian was fully aware that Justin had always made him a better person – he was a little excited to see what kind of a person he'd be now, with Justin by his side.
"You've managed to brainwash him into coming back to you, and I cannot fathom why. I loved him, I took care of him, I treasured him. All you did was use him and throw him away. Why do you deserve him now?"
Brian shook his head but didn't answer.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Aaron's voice had risen, he was nearly yelling.
"No. Thanks for calling, but please don't call me again," Brian answered calmly before hanging up the phone with a silly grin and putting Aaron whatever-the-fuck out of his head for good.
It was after 10pm when Justin finally returned, and Brian was practically climbing his walls – scared that Justin had not only rejected Aaron, but that he was rejecting Brian too. When the younger man finally showed back up the relief Brian felt was palpable – but when he immediately demanded to know why he cared so much about Aaron's feelings, Brian had to make it very clear that what he'd asked Justin to do, was all for Justin.
And he admitted to ending his "relationship" with Sean, too. He decided not to mention Aaron's call earlier; there'd be no point, and Brian was done talking about either Aaron or Sean which was why he was perfectly happy to fuck Justin, fast and rough, up against the door within moments of his return. It would seem neither of them could wait a moment longer to get it out of the way – at least the first round. Brian tried not to worry about his stamina – he had gone multiple times in a night more than once since his surgery…
After, when Justin suggested the shower, Brian felt a stab of fear at his chest. He knew the moment Justin got a closer look at him, naked, he'd see the new scar and he'd know and then they'd have to talk…Brian wondered how much longer he could keep it from Justin. So he agreed to a shower, but he didn't initiate anything – he simply gently washed the other man, taking his own notes of the subtle and not to subtle changes to Justin's body. He was fuller, more muscular, yet still thin like he'd been as a teenager. His pectorals were more defined, and his waist was slightly narrower; his ass was still glorious, and Brian took his time washing and touching and feeling the entirety of Justin's body. When he was done though, he sent Justin out to the bedroom – he'd wash himself quickly and join him. The last thing he wanted was to have the cancer discussion in the shower.
When Brian emerged from the bathroom he found Justin lying on his back on his bed. The lights were low, the lamp on Brian's bedside table casting the only illumination in the room and Brian was thankful for the deep shadows.
"Hey," Justin grinned and Brian felt his world tilt sideways at the sight of that familiar smile.
He moved towards the bed, crawling on his hands and knees up Justin's body before stretching out on top of him. They still fit – quite perfectly Brian thought.
"Hey," Brian whispered, his face hovering above Justin's.
Justin lifted his head then, capturing Brian's lips and kissing him softly, deeply, and with as much apparent need that Brian felt. Brian felt the other man's hands on his back, tracing lines up and down. They were like that for a long time, kissing and touching and growing hard as they pressed against each other.
"Fuck me," Justin whispered as they broke apart to catch their breath, simultaneously spreading his legs and lifting his hips against Brian.
Brian groaned loudly in response and without another word he pulled a condom from the table by his bed, rolled onto his side to slip it on, and after a few minutes of prepping Justin with his fingers he lubed up and slid inside him – slower this time, not like it had been up against the door.
Justin's legs were wrapped tight around Brian's waist, and his lips pressed constant kisses to Brian's neck and chest as he received Brian's slow thrusts with soft moans.
Brian went slow, dragging out the pleasure until Justin was writhing beneath him, begging him to go harder, and deeper, and faster. Brian leaned back and while thrusting slowly into Justin, he gripped the other man's cock, which was hard and leaking profusely. It took only three slow pumps and a small squeeze before Justin was coming, white strands bursting from his cock as his entire body convulsed and he moaned Brian's name loudly. Brian held on to Justin's cock, milking it as he thrust a few more times, Justin's contracting sphincter muscles quickly sending Brian over the edge and then he, too, was falling into the blissful oblivion of orgasm, his body no longer under his control as he pushed into Justin over and over riding the waves of pleasure as they coursed through him. It was the most intense orgasm he could recall having in years, and he was pretty sure the last time he'd felt anything even close to it was the last time he'd been with Justin.
As his orgasm faded and he felt his cock start to soften slightly, he pulled out of Justin – regretfully – and fell down on his side next to the other man.
"Jesus," He panted, "that was…it was just…fucking amazing."
Justin laughed softly and Brian felt him lean into him, his lips kissing Brian's cheek.
Pulling off the condom, Brian laid in the bed for a moment before he stood and went to the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth which he used to clean up Justin and himself before lying back down. He was exhausted, yet so fucking satisfied, and so fucking…well…happy.
Yes, he would admit it. He was happy. And he allowed himself to feel happy for several minutes as they laid side by side on the bed, sweat drying and heart-rate resuming a more normal cadence. Then Brian let the truth of the situation settle on him. The film festival was over; he'd looked it up while Justin had been gone. And even if he was no longer with Aaron, Justin lived in Los Angeles. So what was going to happen next?
"What are you doing here?" Brian asked quietly, but unable to hide the bitterness he felt seeping into his blood while also bracing himself for the potential heartache he was fully expecting.
"What do you mean?" Justin countered sounding cautious.
"I mean, what are you doing here?" Brian repeated, angrier now – irrationally so, but still.
"I told you -," Justin started but Brian cut him off.
"Yeah, yeah. You saw a movie, it freaked you out, blah blah blah," Brian said, the tone of his voice surprising him as much as it seemed to surprise Justin.
"What's wrong with you?" Justin leaned up on his elbows and looked at Brian.
Brian stared up at the ceiling, avoiding meeting the other man's gaze while simultaneously feeling it burn into him.
"Do you intend to stay here, now? In New York? Or are you going back to LA and I'll never see you again?" Brian blurted – the crux of it all finally coming to a head. Was this really the start of something new, or just a one-time thing?
"I really hadn't thought about it," Justin replied.
"Well fucking think about it," Brian grunted angrily before he rose quickly from the bed and retreated again to the adjoining bathroom.
Brian paced the spacious bathroom, fighting every instinct in his body to tell Justin to just fuck off and return to his perfect life in LA. He felt all the old habits and patterns of their old relationship trying to rear their ugly head. He felt an unfair and irrational anger towards the other man for simply pursuing his dream and succeeding at it. And Brian hated himself for being so petty. When had he become so needy and desperate? When had he become so cruel?
Several long minutes later, after Brian had calmed himself somewhat, he emerged from the bathroom to find Justin sitting up and looking at him with a surprised expression.
"What's going on with you?" Justin asked before Brian had a chance to say another word.
"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?"
"Why are you mad at me now?" Justin added, crossing his arms.
"I'm not. It's…nothing. It's nothing," Brian shook his head and returned to the bed, sitting cross legged across from Justin.
Brian stared at Justin, trying to work out the right thing to say. This wasn't Sean, who seemed to just take Brian's crap without fighting back, and who hadn't really known much of Brian's past struggles. No – this was Justin. Justin knew Brian, even if he wasn't familiar with who Brian was now, he knew enough to know there was something up. And he wouldn't take redirection, or suffer any distractions. Justin wouldn't settle until Brian had explained his outburst. A part of Brian was glad for that, but another part of him wanted to just ignore it and go back to that blissful moment they'd been in just a few minutes before.
"Is it Sean?" Justin asked and Brian could see he was dying to know more about the man that had been in Brian's life and in his bed.
"No," Brian shook his head but he felt no conviction in his denial, and he supposed a part of him wanted to get this over with, anyway. The sooner it was out in the open, the sooner they could move past it.
"Who is he?" Justin asked.
"He's a guy," Brian replied.
"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.
"Some stuff?"
"Yes. Stuff," Brian leaned forward then, kissing Justin's neck and forcing him down onto his back. He'd changed his mind – he didn't want to do this now.
The familiar feel of Justin's body beneath Brian's gave him some clarity, and he kissed him softly before suddenly finding himself on his back with Justin lying on top of him. Brian smiled.
"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.
Brian closed his eyes as Justin's hands explored, moving all over Brian's body. They traced lightly over his body, catching on his chest hair and lightly grazing his erect nipples. Brian's breathing grew labored as Justin's hands continued, moving slowly down his torso. When Justin paused, pressing his head to Brian's chest, Brian found his hands playing lightly upon Justin's bare skin – tracing large circles on his back.
Then Brian started slightly when suddenly Justin's fingertips grazed his navel.
"Careful Sunshine, you'll wake the beast again," Brian murmured, hands on Justin's body.
"Promise?" Justin purred.
Brian opened his eyes and looked down his body to find Justin's blue eyes staring back at him, bright pools of desire and love. Brian hadn't even realized he'd used that nickname until after he'd said it, and his use of the name had seemed to change the mood in the room. Suddenly the way Justin was looking at him, drinking him in, was less about the sex and more about…something else. A connection they used to have and which they were desperately trying to make once again.
They were close, too. Brian could feel it, and he increased the pressure of his grip on Justin wanting to tell him to never leave again. He wanted to beg him to stay – to make him realize they were better together than they ever were apart and that Brian wasn't sure he could really ever be happy if Justin wasn't with him. But he didn't say any of those things. Instead, he let Justin go as the other man resumed his ministrations to Brian's body, his lips kissing and his tongue licking the remaining distance to his semi-hard cock.
But Brian knew what was coming, and it wasn't a blow-job which he was desperate to get. And so he waited, watching as Justin kissed and licked and when he rose, poised to take Brian into his mouth he paused. And Brian saw the dawning realizing cross Justin's face as his eyes darted from one hip to the other before he raised his head to look at Brian – the fear blatant on his face. And Brian's heart broke for him.
The fear was only there for a brief moment and then Justin was abandoning Brian's cock, returning to lay his head on the pillow next to Brian, gripping his arm tightly in the process.
"Was this why you never came to LA?" Justin asked. His tone wasn't accusatory, but curious, and gentle.
Brian shook his head.
"When, then?" Justin asked, draping his arm across Brian's torso and pulling himself closer. Brian didn't mind. The closeness and the contact was comforting, and something he hadn't realized he'd been missing all these years.
"A few years ago," Brian answered, turning to look at Justin.
The other man inched closer still, pressing his forehead to Brian's.
"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. He didn't want Justin's sympathy, or pity. It was over. It was done. He'd moved on.
"It wasn't as bad the second time. At least I knew what to expect," Brian added, turning his head and staring up at the ceiling.
"But you were alone," Justin whispered.
"No. I actually stayed with Lindsay for most of it," Brian shook his head, "After the surgery and during the radiation. Thank God for her. Though I think it was a little rough for Gus."
"When I told her about it," Brian went on, "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."
There was a long silence.
"So you didn't do it."
"Nope," Brian shook his head again. He didn't tell Justin that sometimes he regretted that decision, even though he knew it was the right one. If he were to ever be a father again, it couldn't be to a kid that lived hundreds of miles away and that he only got to see once or twice a month. If he were to ever be a father again, he knew it would have to be full-time. But he also knew, or had known before seeing Justin again and allowing all his old feelings to resurface, that there was no one in the world he'd want to parent a kid with other than Lindsay. So he made the difficult choice – and said no.
"Fuck. Brian. I should ha-," Justin started, but Brian silenced him with a kiss. There was no need for him to feel bad, or guilty. And Brian didn't want him to feel that way. It wouldn't change a damn thing in the end.
"I'm surprised no one told me," Justin said when they broke apart.
"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...," Brian shrugged.
"And then you met Sean."
Brian nodded. Justin didn't say anything else, he just moved closer and increased the pressure of his hold on Brian. The quiet was nice; the just lying together was peaceful, and Brian felt the last bit of his anxiety fade away. It was all out there now, and now they could move forward – whatever that meant for them.
"You're okay now?" Justin asked suddenly, his face pressed to Brian's chest.
"So far so good," Brian answered after a moment, tilting his head to press his lips to Justin's hair.
They fell asleep not long after, and when Brian woke to his alarm the next morning he quickly silenced it before crawling from the bed, trying to be as quiet as he could so not to wake Justin.
"Where're you going," Justin's sleepy voice grumbled from beneath the sheet he had wrapped tight around him.
"Just going to let Cynthia know I won't be in to the office today," Brian smiled, "go back to sleep."
Justin didn't respond and Brian went out to the living room where he called his assistant and left her a message. He returned to the bed and curled up behind Justin, pulling the other man to his chest and promptly falling back asleep.
A few hours later Brian woke again. Justin had turned and was facing him, the top of his head nestled under Brian's chin and his hand cupping Brian's ass. He was breathing deeply – still sleeping.
Ever so slowly, Brian pulled away. Justin stirred, but didn't wake. Brian stared at him, the thick, long blonde eyelashes and the smooth, skin of his face. Sleeping, he looked no older than he had when Brian had first met him. Aside from the darker hair color, Brian could almost imagine this was a scene from ten years ago. He smiled softly, pressing soft kisses to both of Justin's closed eyes before rising from the bed once again and heading to the kitchen to make some coffee.
Ten minutes later and mug of coffee in hand – hoping Justin still liked it black – Brian was back in the bedroom. Setting the steaming mug of coffee on the small bedside table next to Justin's head, Brian knelt on the floor and reached his arms beneath the duvet, softly massaging Justin's body awake and meeting Justin's eventual sleepy-eyed stare with an arched brow and smirk of his own. He'd specifically neglected a certain region of the other man's body and when Justin groaned his displeasure at that fact, Brian snaked under the sheets and paid some much needed, and much desired (by both men) attention to the aforementioned region.
After he was done they laid in the bed for a little while, Justin sipping the coffee Brian had brought even though it was certainly only lukewarm.
"So you have to go back to Los Angeles today," Brian stated more than asked; he heard Justin sigh and felt his head nod. Sometime between when Brian woke up and after he gave Justin some morning attention the skies outside had darkened and Brian thought he could hear rumbling thunder in the distance.
"Yeah," he added, "but it's a late flight."
"What time?"
"Eight forty tonight," Justin moved out of Brian's embrace to set the coffee mug on the bedside table.
"What airport," Brian stared out the window at the stormy sky, trying not to reflect on how it seemed to mirror his current state of emotional turmoil. In the light of day what had happened the night before, with Justin, seemed like a colossal mistake.
"JFK," Justin answered.
"What's wrong?" Justin asked after a long silence.
Brian just shook his head and shrugged, "Nothing."
"Oh no," Justin crossed his arms and shook his head in response, "you're not shutting down on me now. Not after everything."
Brian sighed. This meant they were headed towards a talk – a discussion. About feelings, and emotions, and their lives… Brian might have calmed as he grew older, settling in to a more manageable lifestyle that didn't include drinking and drugging and tricking until all hours – but that didn't mean he liked talking. Sure, he'd open up to Sean, but that was different. That was Sean. This was Justin. And no matter that it had been almost 14 years since they'd first met each other, Brian still felt compelled to play the role he'd always played in Justin's life; the aloof, mysterious, enigmatic, emotionally unavailable guy.
No matter that they'd spent much of the previous evening talking, and no matter that Brian had a million questions he wanted answers to, too, he still wanted to bolt from the bed and put that mask back on.
"What's the point," Brian muttered, "you're leaving. This was just…what? A booty-call?"
"Fuck you! Jesus, is that honestly all you think I think of you as?" Justin's face bore his incredulity.
"No," Brian conceded, "but I'd be hard pressed to know what this was. I mean, you're leaving. What do you think that tells me?"
"Maybe that I have a life and a job back in LA? Maybe that I can't just stay here, not without making plans and taking care of things back in California?"
"Do you really think I'd leave and that this would just be over with?" Justin added.
Brian shrugged. He really didn't know. He knew what he hoped, and he knew what he wanted but that didn't mean it was what Justin hoped or wanted. Like he'd just said, he had a life and a career and responsibilities in Los Angeles. He was no longer a wayward kid, trying to find his way in the world. And Brian didn't really know this new Justin – they'd been nine years apart now – what else was he to think?
"I've loved you for almost half of my life. Even after you broke my heart and left me stranded and alone I never stopped loving you," Justin added, "And I'm not trying to attack you. You told me why you did what you did; I don't want to rehash that argument. But I want you to know that even at my lowest point, when I was so hurt by your actions, I still loved you. I suppose I just can't stop."
"Do you want to stop?" Brian asked, cautiously optimistic.
"I don't think so. But I'll be honest with you, I'm not going to be the person who drops everything to come running back to you, either."
"Nor would I want you to be," Brian said, and it was true. Brian never wanted to be the reason Justin gave up on a dream, or didn't follow his own pursuits. It was the entire reason behind what had happened all those years ago. But that didn't help handle the fact that Justin would be leaving New York – maybe forever.
"I'm not giving up on you, or us, either. This," Justin reached out and grasped Brian's hand, threading their fingers, "feels good. It feels right."
"But…," Brian coaxed, prompting Justin to say whatever it was he was holding back.
"But I'm kind of a mess," Justin sighed, "and as much as this feels right, I still need to figure out me. I haven't been alone for years, and that's not healthy."
"What does that mean, though?" Brian asked.
"It means I love you, and I won't stop loving you but it also means I have to go back to Los Angeles and figure out what I want, independent of anyone else. I'm putting myself first this time."
Brian nodded. He got it. He really did – but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. That didn't mean it didn't scare him to imagine that he was losing Justin once again…because the one thing Justin hadn't said was that he would be returning. He'd told Brian he loved him, and that he felt right being with him, but he hadn't said he was coming back; sooner or later or at all.
"Are you coming back," Brian said as evenly as he could – trying to hide the desperation and trying to hide the fear.
"I don't know. Maybe. I hope so," Justin moved closer to Brian and brought his hand up to his lips, kissing the back of Brian's hand, "I want too. But I won't promise it. I can't promise it."
"I know," Brian said with resignation. It was all fucked up, and it was all Brian's fault. If he'd just done the right thing way back in 2004; if he'd just gone to the damn premiere they wouldn't be in this mess.
"I said it before and I meant it," Brian paused, preparing himself to say the words for only the second time, "I love you and I have for a very long time. I'm just sorry it took me so long to say it and that I had to hurt you so much in the process. Because that's one thing I never wanted to do. I only ever wanted to see you happy, and safe. You deserve that."
"I know I do," Justin's eyes were open and honest, "and you deserve it too. Never think you don't."
"Now I think we've done enough talking," Justin grinned, throwing back the sheet and straddling Brian's hips, "So will you please fuck me?"
Brian chortled before acquiescing to Justin's request – sucking, rimming, and fucking him in every room (save Gus's) of the apartment.