Justin's POV

The best defense is a good offense. After the magic of last night, all I wanted to do was watch the man I love sleep. Waking up beside Brian had not been a regular occurrence in weeks. But instead, I was trying to devise a game plan. I wasn't above lying or misleading to ensure that Brian wanted me, and badly. I was man enough to admit that I felt incomplete and unhappy without him. When we were apart, the world lost its luster. Pleasures of any kind were less satisfying; achievements, hollow; and inspiration, rare. I knew Brian felt the same way. The difference is that he would live that way, torturing himself, for the sake of his pride or because he thought I was better off without him. I, on the other hand, would not. Not anymore. Brian was the source of the most intense love and passion I had ever known, that I would ever know. Our recent separation had taught me that all too well. Unfortunately, he was also the source of the most intense anguish and pain. But was a painless and boring existence better? Fuck no! Even if it were, choosing boredom didn't mean I'd never be hurt, just that I'd never feel that heat and electricity coursing through my veins, rippling through every cell in my body, that all-consuming passion spelled B-R-I-A-N.

Brian had willingly sacrificed some of his pride last night. I'd need to minimize that as much as possible, while also making myself irresistible. The last thing I wanted was to witness another trick marathon. Desire, admiration, jealousy, and possessiveness were much more powerful than love and romance, at least in Kinneyland. Sure, I'd rather just be open and honest, but, with Brian, that was the quickest way to disaster. Life with him meant communicating without words and pretending, a little. Never getting too comfortable.

Ok, so the game plan. I'd need to busy myself with school and work most of the day, perhaps only returning to the loft at 9 or 10 pm (Woody's/Babylon time). I extricated myself from the mess of arms and legs we made and padded softly toward the kitchen. I thought better after coffee. As I shoveled imported Italian coffee into the wire mesh filter and poured purified water into the gaping maw of Brian's, no our, gleaming silver coffeemaker, I thought back to a frustrating morning last week. Try as I might, I just couldn't paint. I didn't even feel like drawing. Ethan had wanted to "make love" in what passed for a shower at his place, but I was strangely un-horny. My morning wood had softened moments after waking and would not return, despite the fact that Ethan was fondling and kissing me. I don't know why I didn't make the connection then. His shower invitation, made just after I fell out of bed, had reminded me of Brian. I guess my pride had made me a little dense. After Ethan pretended he was okay with taking a shower alone and rushed out, I dropped into a chair and opened my sketch pad. I picked up a pencil, but hesitated for a long time. When I finally put pencil to paper, I didn't draw anything. Instead, I wrote, "Suddenly, my world is too small. I'm too small." A slight ringing jerked me out of my contemplation. The coffee was ready. I poured myself a cup and laughed softly. My world had grown considerably since then. For the last 24 hours, I had been so inspired, turned on, and energized that I felt like I could fly if I wanted; as cliché as that might sound, that description exactly matched my state of mind and heart. Suddenly, anything, everything, was possible. I leaned on the counter and sipped my coffee, watching Brian from afar, but not too far.

So I'd come back to the loft at 9 pm…take a shower, make sure I looked hotter than hell, and go to Woody's or Babylon by myself, if Brian hadn't invited me by then. Either way, I'd need to play hard to get, dancing with people who are not Brian and maybe even hitting the back room for a blow job. I'd said that I didn't want to trick outside of date night, and I didn't, but I might have to if Brian started to feel overwhelmed by our new relationship status. But receiving a blow job was hardly the same as fucking someone. Hell, that was foreplay if Brian happened to be there.

Suddenly, the object of my scrutiny stirred. Looking away quickly, I took another sip of my coffee.

"Mmm. Is that coffee I smell?"

I looked over at Brian and answered, "Yup."

"Bring me a cup, would you dear?" Brian asked in that cute girlfriend falsetto he did sometimes.

I laughed. "Sure. Anything for you, sweetums," I replied in a mocking tone.

I handed him the cup, and, once he'd set it securely on the nightstand, he pulled me down to the bed and kissed me long and hard. Afterward, I mentally sighed in contentment.

"So what are your plans today?"

"Mmm…the diner, school, and, later, I need to go to the library with a classmate to work on a project."

Brian groaned in complaint. "Busy day. Do you have time for a long shower?"

"Sure." I smiled brightly. "I'm always up for that."

Mentally, I added, "When you're the one fucking me into the wall."