It was dark and bleak. There was no moon and the stars were hidden behind thick black clouds that were just beginning to release the rain they'd been threatening all day. And that's how long they'd been driving … all fucking day. Firstly, Brian had taken them much further into West Virginia driving straight through any big cities, the point was to be seen, let people tell the police that they'd fled into West Virginia and then he'd turned around and driven back along the quieter roads. Brian had only stopped twice once for a piss behind a tree at the side of the road and once to change the number plates as they approached the Pennsylvania state border. He'd made a phone call as they'd crossed the border. He'd spoken in a low voice and Justin, despite being hardly any distance away from him could barely make out what he was saying but after that he'd announced he had a place for them to stay and Justin felt a little better.

Justin's stomach had been growling for hours but he couldn't eat. He'd tried to eat some of the 'emergency food', a couple of bags of chips and some cookies, that Brian had stored in the glove box but it had just made him feel sick. He had a horrible feeling now that they weren't ever going to escape the cops and be able to live normal lives. He realized that this was it … forever. Running from location to location, avoiding getting caught. He'd probably never see Emmett again or Ted … or Michael though that was less of a loss. His mother would probably never know that he was alive and with the man he loved and tears began to run down his face.

"Don't," Brian said sternly, as he saw the kid wipe a tear away. "Just hold it together for a little while longer."

"Do you know where we are yet?"

"Yeah, not far outside Pittsburgh" Brian said, checked the GPS for cops but there was still nothing. He'd avoided every one like a troll in a bathhouse. "There's a place, I know. It's safe for now."

"Is it really wise to go back to Pittsburgh?"

"Probably not, but every state is on the lookout for us. It's better here in a place I know, protected by a person I trust than some dodgy motel where anyone could turn us in."

Justin nodded as they drove down streets that were beginning to look semi-familiar to him. Pittsburgh. He'd guessed that one day he'd return here but he hadn't expected it to be like this, under the cover of darkness and fearful of being seen. Suddenly, Brian turned down a very dark alley and Justin's stomach dropped. He could smell the stench of rotting garbage through the air con and Brian quickly turned it off as they crept down the cobbled backstreet. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

"Marv," he said, his voice low and deadly serious. "We're outside." … "No, not Michael." … "The kid." … "No he's not fucking dead. Fuck off." He hung up the phone and placed back into his pocket before pulling to the side of the alley and looking up at the building to his left. It looked like the back of some kind of take-out restaurant. The door was open and steam was pouring out and rushing into the air. The garbage bags that surrounded the doorway were vile and the bricks had graffiti all over them. It couldn't have been more different from the house they'd been living in.

"This is it Sunshine," Brian sighed. "Home sweet home."

Brian got out of the car, just as a large, chubby man came out of the kitchen, with his hand out to shake Brian's.

"It's been a while Brian," the man said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "I was beginning to think you'd never call me up on that favour I owed you."

"I told you I'd use it when I needed it most," Brian informed him, with a smile. "This is Justin," he said, as the kid struggled to squeeze himself and his bag out through the tiny gap between the car door and the wall.

"Nice to meet you, Justin," the man said. "The names Marvin, but you call be Marv."

"Hi, Marv," Justin nodded politely, holding out his hand. It never failed to amaze him how, even in the oddest, most unlikely of situations, Justin's gentile country club upbringing came back to get him. "Er, Merry Christmas."

"You too, kid." They shook and Brian just laughed at the absurdity of it all.

"So, Marv, you got our room ready?"

"Only the best for you, Bri," the man confirmed grandly. "Premium plastic buckets to catch the leaks, you're lucky the rains gone off. Top of the range paper and bluetac for the skylight blind. And the finest quality third or fourth, or perhaps even fifth, hand mattress … double of course."

"Of course," Brian replied, smirking a little at the horrified look on the kid's face. Marv didn't miss it either.

"What were you expecting, kid? The Ritz?"

"Er, no." Justin shook his head quickly. He was so out of his depth he felt like he'd already drowned and was now just sinking to the bottom looking upwards for someone to save him.

"You just be grateful we had health and safety snooping around a couple of weeks ago. Otherwise the rats would still be there."

"R-rats?" Justin gulped causing Brian to smile again.

"Get my bag out of the trunk, Sunshine," he called. "Marv and I need to discuss terms of payment."

Justin wasn't far enough out of earshot to miss the conversation unfolding.

"I'll take a blow-job, Bri." Marv was saying and although they both laughed, Justin couldn't help feel he wasn't entirely joking.

"Ahh, now what would your good husband say if he heard you offering things like that," Brian smirked. "How is Ignacio?"

"Perfect, as always," Marv sighed. "I told him you were coming to use the room. He's putting a duvet and a few floor cushions up there for you now. We both owe you so much. I'm glad you're giving us a chance to repay you."

"Yeah," Brian nodded solemnly. "Just don't go handing us over to the police."

"Never," Marv promised and Justin noted he seemed genuine. He wondered what Brian had done for him to make him this grateful. "So where's Michael?"

"You know how it is on the run. You can't be sentimental or loyal. You just get the fuck out of there. That," he smiled, "and the corvette only had two seats."

"And of course you have to have along a kid with a nice ass or you'd end up handing yourself in just to get some action," Marv beamed.

"Of course," Brian smirked. "Imagine it. I could have ended up so desperate I'd have even tried to fuck you."

"There's a time when I wouldn't have minded that," Marv said, half-sultry, half-embarrassed.

"And now, there's Ignacio."

Marv nodded and Justin couldn't help notice there was an expression of slight regret on his face.

"I still miss it," he whispered to Brian as Justin returned struggling to keep the bags away from the puddles of unnameable liquid that were all over the floor.

"Of course you do," Brian said, taking his own large, leather medical-looking bag from Justin and putting it on his shoulders. "But you decided to go back to the not-so-straight and narrow real world." He looked up at the back of the restaurant that they were now to call home. "And, now you own a Mexican restaurant," he scoffed.

In Brian's world there was nothing worse than being one of them; a law abiding citizen. They were just the fags who accepted how the breeders told them to live their lives. There were rules and laws and things you had to do, but not in his world. In his world, he fucked who he wanted, he bought what he wanted, he did what he wanted. No excuses, no apologies, no regrets. And okay, so there were bumps along the way, this particular bump being more like a mountain but he wouldn't trade it in for the straight life, in more ways than one.

::

Marv took Brian and Justin up the metal fire escape on the side of the building for fear that going through the kitchen would raise the suspicions of his staff. The metal frame creaked and rattled with every step and Justin wasn't sure the top platform would take his, Brian and Marv's weight all at once but as he hesitated on the top step of the ladder, Brian snapped at him to hurry up and he jumped onto the platform. It groaned a little under the weight but it managed to resist plummeting them to almost certain death.

It took ages for Brian and Marv to force the window open. It seemed to be only able to open an inch at a time but eventually, the two men had forced it open enough for Brian and Justin to slide through. Marv couldn't fit, so he just waved them off and told them he'd see them in a moment.

"Where is he going?" Justin asked, pulling his jacket closer around him. It was almost impossible to see anything in this 'room'. The only light was that coming through the window they'd just climbed through and the filthy skylight in the roof and it was just the dull orangey shine of a flickering streetlamp.

"He's going to come back through the door," Brian explained, trying to force the window shut again. "Here, help me with this."

Justin rushed over but he wasn't as strong as Marv so the thing didn't move at all.

"Goddamn window," Brian hissed when it became obvious it wasn't going to shut. He gave up and leant against the windowsill surveying the so called room ahead of him. "So, what do you think?" he smirked to Justin.

"Well," the kid shuddered a little, also sitting on the windowsill and moving close to Brian, "the bits I can see, which are mainly shaded now by yours and my shadows, are … lovely," he joked. "And I can only imagine there are even more delights in the shadows."

"You have no idea," Brian said, slipping his arm around the younger man's shoulders and pulling him close in a way he hoped was reassuring.

"How long have we got to stay here, Bri?"

Brian could feel the kid's hopeful gaze burning the side of his face and he knew he couldn't look at him, not knowing how he'd dragged him from a perfect home and a mother who'd obviously loved him and brought him into a life of lies and deceit and fear and now they sat on a windowsill in a shithole attic space above the Mexican restaurant of a couple of old friends, on the run from the authorities and wanted by the police. The only answer he gave was a little shake of the head and Justin knew they were going to be here until it was over, one way or another.

Justin looked around the room. By now, his eyes were growing accustomed to the gloomy light; he could make out the outline of a door in the middle of the wall. He noted a mattress that was raised up on some wooden pallets at the opposite end of the room. There were some large cushions under the skylight, that must have been courtesy of Marv's boyfriend Ignacio and he thought he could make out a toilet and a sort of tiny shower thing in the darkest corner over the far side. The floor seemed to have been covered by large pieces of plywood and the whole thing looked like an abandoned half-hearted attempt at a loft conversion.

He was just trying to work out what a strange looking bendy tower to his right was, when the door slammed open causing him to jump so violently he genuinely believed he'd have fallen out of the window had Brian not been there to catch him.

"Damn thing," Marv growled, marching into the room. Justin could just make out the grin he shot them as he explained, "it hasn't been opened in nearly ten years."

"What happened to living above the restaurant?" Brian asked casually as he stood up to give the window another tug, of course this time, with Marv's help, it shut much more easily.

"Ah, you know," Marv said, wiping his brow from the exertion, "Ignacio had far too much stuff."

"I did not," came a heavily accented protest from the shadows. Justin jumped. He hadn't even noticed the skinny man stood near the door. Damn this dim light.

"Ignacio," Marv held out an arm, beckoning the skinny man into the orange light from the window. "You remember Brian."

"Ah, of course. Brian, you look fabuloso," the skinny man, who had dark hair and beautiful tan skin and massive, expressive, brown eyes, hugged Brian like a long lost friend. "It has been too long."

"And this," Marv continued with the introductions, "is…"

"Justin," Ignacio cried delightedly, pulling the kid into a hug. "You are more handsome in the skin than those pictures on the TV. And you are not the child they make you out to be. Here you are … eres un chamaco muy apuesto."

Justin just frowned in confusion.

"A handsome boy," Ignacio explained, running his finger over Justin's pecks lightly until Brian smacked it away sharply.

Ignacio seemed to fix Brian with a strange look, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. "Celoso?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye.

And Justin was incredibly surprised to hear Brian answer, "no," as though he'd understood.

"Qué? Le amas?"

Brian's jaw was set but he didn't respond to whatever Ignacio had said, he just turned to Marv and said, "thanks for the room Marv but we're both tired from our day."

"Of course," Marv agreed, taking hold of Ignacio's hand and virtually dragging him from the room. "Are you hungry?" he called as he got to the door. "I'll send Ignacio up with some food."

Almost as though in response to the question, Justin's stomach rumbled loudly.

"Great," Brian said. "Sounds perfect."

With that they disappeared out of the door, leaving Justin and Brian alone in their new home once again.

"I think I'll take a shower," Brian said steadily.

"Oh, okay," Justin nodded.

"I'd ask you to join me but," Brian looked over to the tiny shower as explanation. "And there's nothing sexy about cold showers anyway."

"The shower's cold?" Justin asked, his face screwing up in utter disgust. Brian just nodded apologetically, before kissing Justin on the forehead and making his way over to the shower area carefully.

Justin decided to go and explore the strange tower he'd spotted earlier, he shuffled his feet along the plywood trying to avoid tripping over the edges as he moved towards his intended target. Eventually he got to them and discovered there were ten or twelve buckets balancing one on top of the other.

"Buckets?" he thought out loud. "Why would you need buckets?"

"It's for the leaks," Ignacio's voice behind him made him jump virtually out of his skin. "Sorry," the taller man laughed, handing over a brown paper bag. "I thought you would like some food. There are fajitas, tamales and a little Polo del Fuego. Be careful it is very hot … like you," he added flirtily and then looking to Brian's naked body squashed into the tiny shower, "like him."

Justin couldn't help feel uncomfortable as he watched this skinny, but beautiful, man openly devouring the shower scene ahead of them. Justin cleared his throat a little and opened the brown bag.

"Er, this smells delicious," he said, trying to get Ignacio's attention away from Brian.

"The best," Ignacio confirmed turning back to him with a smile. "And do not worry, you will be safe here. I was a criminal too for a long while. We are familia."

"Oh," Justin smiled politely, "I'm not a criminal."

"Justin, rayito de luz, we have a saying in back in México; 'Dime con quién andas y te diré quién eres'."

"What does that mean?" Justin asked warily.

"Tell me who you are with and I will tell you who you are. You hang around with criminals," his eyes shot to Brian that lustful look in his eyes, "you too, are a criminal. At least, that is what everyone will think."

Justin just shook his head. "People still think I've been kidnapped."

"And in ten years?" Ignacio asked, fixing him suddenly with those incredible eyes, "if Brian is still keeping you around are you still going to tell me you are just a poor niño who got caught up in it all."

"No, I just figured that after all this, Brian wouldn't want to steal and stuff anymore. I mean, he's got enough money to live off. We could just get…"

"Rayito de luz," Ignacio interrupted, with a sympathetic smile. "In México, we have another saying, 'Árbol que crece torcido jamás su tronco endereza' meaning 'Tree which grows bent will never get straight again'."

Justin's face screwed up a little in confusion.

"He is an outlaw, Justin," Ignacio explained bluntly. "A criminal, a fugitive, a lawbreaker. He will never be anything else. Do not expect of him what he cannot give you; you will only end up disappointed."

Justin lips drew into a hard line and he peered once again towards Brian, before looking, once again, at the brown paper bag in his hands.

"Thanks for the food, Ignacio," he said curtly, and then looked to the door with a heavy indication that the other man should leave now.

The other man nodded in understanding. "You are welcome," he said with a little bow of the head before leaving.

Just as the door was shutting, Brian stepped out of the shower dripping wet.

"Was that food?" He asked.

"Yeah, Ignacio's brought us some leftovers from the restaurant."

"Excellent," Brian smiled, wrapping a towel he'd taken from his bag earlier around his waist. "I hope you like Mexican food we're going to be eating a lot of it."

Justin just smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Ignacio had given him a lot to think about, more than a lot.

Before today he hadn't even considered the future, he'd been living for the day and loving it. In fact, until Ignacio had mentioned it, Justin had almost completely forgotten that Brian, Ted, Emmett and Michael were real lawbreaking criminals. He'd known it, of course he had, but it hadn't really sunk in as to what that meant. Had they killed people? How many people had they stolen from and ripped off? How many people had they hurt or terrified or ruined? Brian had been doing this for most of his life. What had Justin really thought would come at the end of this little adventure? Did he think Brian would give it all up … for him? He didn't know. He hadn't even considered it but now, in this tiny, shitty, freezing attic room, he realized that if he stayed with Brian this was it for the rest of his life, living in constant fear, never seeing his mother again. He'd never get to be an artist or do any of those other things he'd dreamt about.

"Justin," Brian's voice broke into his subconscious, "Justin … are you okay?"

Justin shook himself out of his nightmare and smiled. "Sure," he nodded. "I'm just a little tired."

"Well, eat something first," Brian said, indicating the floor cushions he'd sat down on and putting the food on an upside down cardboard box that would be a decent enough makeshift table. "And then get some sleep."

Justin just nodded. "Sure. Yeah." He took a couple of bites of tamales and then looked up at the other man. "You never told me you could speak Spanish."

"I learnt in school," Brian shrugged.

"Me too, a bit," Justin said, "but I didn't know what Ignacio was saying."

"He was just being a prick," Brian informed him sternly, remembering how the stupid twot had told him Brian was jealous and in love with Justin. "It wasn't anything important."

Justin nodded. "When he brought the food up, he called me a rayito de luz, what's that?"

Brian snorted a little. "He called you that?"

"Yeah," the younger man nodded as Brian laughed again. "What's so funny? What does it mean?"

"Sunshine," Brian smiled. "It means 'sunshine'. You obviously must just look like a sunshine."

"Or a rayito de luz," Justin quoted in a pretty hideous attempt at Ignacio's accent.

Brian just stared at him before saying, "never do that again."

Justin laughed and took another bite of the food. It was tasty but he wasn't feeling very hungry since his little chat.

"So what did you do?" Justin asked eventually.

"Huh?" Brian asked, tucking into his own meal.

"For them to owe you," Justin explained. He'd been mainly prodding his food with his folk for a while now, so he abandoned the tamalesand fell back into the huge floor cushions and just stared up through the skylight. All he could see was blackness and the odd glimpse of a star.

"I helped Ignacio get his green card," Brian explained, putting the rest of the food back in the tubs and placing them in the brown paper bag. "He had an expired visa and he and Marv had been fucking for a while and they decided they'd actually miss each other if they were in different countries so Marv gave me a call and I helped them out."

"How?"

"I forged papers and feigned test results and generally fucked with the system until they granted Ignacio citizenship. Ted was incredibly useful in that particular job. He did a fantastic job altering results and changing statuses."

"Ted was involved?"

"Of course," Brian said as though it were common knowledge. "I've known Ted since we were about twenty. He was a friend of Marv's at college, they were both computer geeks and Marv was working with me and Mikey on jobs. Ted was just beginning to hang out with us when Marv decided he was giving up the high life to be with Ignacio." Brian pulled a disgusted face. "It was pathetic. But I guess it worked out in the end, Ted was much more talented with a computer." He smirked fondly as he remembered some of the incredible things Ted had pulled off for them with nothing more than a laptop and a little bit of time. "Anyway, about five years after we said goodbye to Marv, he calls and says Ignacio's being deported. Obviously, they can't get married so Ignacio needed a green card and we helped out. It was no big deal really but if they want to be eternally grateful, that's their business."

"So you give them the chance to be together and they give you a shithole to live in."

Brian snorted a little bit as he leaned back onto the cushions and wriggled his way over to the younger man. "They've given us a safe place to stay, where the police can't find us."

"Mmm," Justin nodded, as Brian started to lift the hem of his shirt, kissing every new bit of pale skin that was revealed. "It's still a shithole."

He could feel the soft puff of air hit his stomach as Brian laughed at his distaste of this place. "I've lived in worse."

"How?"

"There's no cockroaches" he dragged his tongue from Justin bellybutton right up to his nipple. "Or rats." He lifted the shirt over Justin's head and began attacking his neck, nipping and sucking in all the right places. "The shower works and the waters clean." He bit gently at Justin's ear. "And there's food virtually on demand."

"I don't know how you managed to make cockroaches and rats sexy," Justin said breathlessly running his hands under Brian's shirt and whipping it over his head.

"It's a gift," Brian chuckled a little, his teeth grazing over the skin as he worked his way down, unzipping Justin's jeans as he went. "You wait until it's raining and I have to make buckets full of rain water sexy."

"I'm sure you'll manage it," Justin moaned, lifting his ass up so Brian could remove his pants. And then, for no good reason that he could think of, he found himself saying, "what are we going to do when we get out of here?"

Brian looked up understandably confused. "What do you mean?" He asked, moving to kiss Justin again.

"When we leave this shithole? When the police stop searching for us?"

Brian shrugged a little. "A bank job maybe? Or a couple of shops? Why? You got something you want to do?"

"No," Justin shook his head a little, biting gently at Brian's neck as the older man reached for a condom from his previously discarded jeans. "Just, would you ever give up this life like Marv and Ignacio?"

"Give up the danger, the excitement; the sex?" Brian enquired smirking a little. Justin just nodded. "Never," Brian grinned.

As Justin watched Brian moving above him, he tried to forget every thought that was going through his head. Mainly that Brian Kinney would never give up this life but Justin wasn't sure if he could join it permanently.

::

Justin was quiet and miserable but Brian didn't know why he was surprised. Justin was always quiet and miserable recently. They'd been at the shithole for a week and so far, Justin had just moped around and drawn various things. He'd drawn most of the attic now. Although the place was a broken mess, it offered hundreds of fantastic things to draw, inspiration was all around him. All he had to do was get it onto paper. He'd worked silently, never quite smiling like he used to at the house.

"I know it's a shit situation," Brian had said, "but we have to make the best of it."

"I am," Justin had smiled back. But the smile was a lie, it was the same one Justin used to have after Michael had been a bitch to him and he was telling them all he was fine. It had only taken two days of this seemingly endless shitty mood for Brian to give up trying to find out what was wrong. Justin would only lie to him and say 'nothing' anyway. Though, from what Justin had said, Brian was pretty sure this constant sulking wasn't only to do with the living conditions but fuck if he knew what he'd done wrong.

On the eighth day, Ignacio brought up some clean bed sheets with dinner and also had a black bag for any washing they needed done. Brian put his dirty clothes into the bag and then called to Justin, who was carefully drawing the bucket tower like he had been for the last day and a half.

"Justin!" Brian shouted, after being ignored the first couple of times.

"Huh?" Justin looked up to see Brian and Ignacio looking at him expectantly. "Sorry?"

"Have you got any laundry?" Brian said, in a way that told the kid he was totally fed up of this mood.

"Er, yeah. It's in the corner." Justin pointed to a pile of clothes.

"Well get them then," Brian snapped. Justin sighed heavily and went to get his stuff and put it in the laundry bag.

"Good evening, rayito de luz!" Ignacio said cheerily. Justin just shot him a smile that could only be described as sarcastic and went straight back to his drawing.

"Bastardo," Ignacio muttered under his breath.

"Mm," Brian agreed. "I don't know what's wrong with him. He'd been like this ever since we arrived."

"Teenage angst," Ignacio smiled. "It is a problem when you fuck someone so young."

"It's not that," Brian said. "He's not happy."

"You know, we have a saying in México…"

"How the fuck would you know?" Brian snorted. "You haven't been there for fifteen years."

"Escúchame!" Ignacio snapped.

"I am listening," Brian sighed.

"We have a saying, 'No le pidas peras al olmo'," he said mysteriously.

Brian just frowned and looked at the other man like he'd suddenly produced a third eye. "Do not ask pears of the elm?" He translated. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Idiota," he sighed. "It does not make sense literally."

"It doesn't make sense at all."

"It means do not ask something of someone they can not do. Maybe your amante is not so happy with this life as you are."

"So … what the fuck am I meant to do about it?"

"We have another saying in México."

"Oh I'm sure you do," Brian scorned.

"Al mal paso, darle prisa."

"And what does that bullshit mean metaphorically?"

"It means if you are in a bad situation get out of it as quick as you can."

"That's not even profound," Brian scorned. "That's just common fucking sense."

"You asked for my help," Ignacio shrugged.

"No, I don't think I did," Brian said with a dangerous smile. "I'm pretty sure you just forced it on me."

"Now you are moody because you don't like the truth."

"What? No saying from the old country for that one?" Brian asked sarcastically.

"Hijo de puta!"

"Vete a la mierda!" Brian shot back. The two glared as each for a moment until Brian softened and looked back to Justin who was still just scribbling away in his notebook. "Where's your husband? I like him better."

"En la comisaría de policia," Ignacio smiled cheekily.

"That's not funny," Brian snapped. "Where is he really?"

"The police station," the other man repeated. "Do not worry. It has nothing to do with you. He has a parking ticket to pay off."

Brian just snorted. "Christ," he muttered. "The Marvin I knew would never pay of a fucking parking ticket."

"He's a changed man."

"For the worse."

"That is your opinion only."

"Mine is the only opinion I've ever needed," Brian smirked, even though his eyes were still trained on Justin.

The kid was really focused on his art like nothing else in the world existed. His mouth was open a little which was the expression he always pulled when he was concentrating. It was just him and his worries and anger but at least he had a release for it. He could pour himself onto the page and not worry about consequences. He could say with his art, all the things he wasn't brave enough to say with his words.

Ignacio followed Brian's gaze to kid and said, "talk to him. Ask him what he wants in the future."

"Fuck off," Brian snapped. He was getting pretty fed up of the other man's all-knowing attitude.

"But I can see it bothers you."

"I said fuck off," Brian growled.

"Fine," Ignacio surrendered, picking up the bag of clothes and bed sheets. "Adiós." And with that he was gone … finally.

Brian looked at the fresh sheets the other man had thrown on to the mattress and immediately missed the house and the times when bed sheets just magically changed themselves thanks to the house fairies, better known as Emmett and Justin. He sighed to himself.

"Hey, Justin. Get over here and give me a hand." He watched the younger man put the notepad down dejectedly and stroll over. He smiled when he caught Brian's eye but he couldn't make it reach his eyes. They pulled the sheets over the mattress in silence and then Brian changed the pillowcases as Justin changed the duvet. It was all sickeningly routine and domesticated as soon as the bed was made, Justin tried to return to his drawing but Brian grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Wait a second," he said, pulling the kid into a kneeling position on the bed. He wrapped his arm around Justin's back and pulled him close pressing an almost tentative kiss to the younger man's lips. As usual, Justin kissed him back. Nothing had changed really, it was just a feeling Brian got. The feeling that Justin wasn't happy, no matter how hard he pretended to be. And Brian knew why he was miserable and he had to do to correct it….

Brian ran his hands through Justin's hair, kissing him deeply and probing deeper, sliding his shirt off. They moved slowly onto the bed, Brian over Justin. They were taking it slow. It was important that it was perfect and memorable, especially memorable because it wasn't just a fuck … it was also goodbye.

::

It had been dark for a long time but Justin's breathing had only just evened out enough for Brian to think he would be able to get out of the bed without waking him. He went to his big leather bag that was still full of clothes, neither had unpacked their stuff, partly because there was no guarantee they wouldn't have to escape at a moments' notice and partly because there wasn't anywhere else to put it. He took out a pair of jeans and a wife beater vest and pulled them on in silence, before wrapping his leather jacket around his shoulders. The loft may only give them a little shelter and protection from the elements but it still kept them warm because of the rising heat from the kitchen below. He knew that outside it would be freezing. He zipped up the bag, cursing the tiny noise it made and freezing on the spot as Justin stirred a little in his sleep.

Once he was satisfied the kid wasn't going to wake up, Brian lifted the bag on his shoulder and went to the door. He took one look back and realized he couldn't leave without saying something, even if Justin wouldn't actually hear it. So he placed the bag down silently and returned to the bed.

He stretched out his hand and let it hover a few millimetres above Justin's face as though trying to memorize every inch of it, not that he hadn't already, but he was determined to drink in every little imperfection and every perfection that he had and store it as a perfect memory in his brain. Then, he pressed a lingering kiss to the kids forehead and whispered,

"Soñaré contigo, mi amor."

And without another word, he silently opened the door and crept away down the stairs. Brian Kinney could never have been accused of being altruistic until that night but, as he walked away from the man he'd risked everything for, he found himself caught up in an act of selfless generosity. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave his only safe haven and as good a hand himself over to the police but he had to. Because Justin deserved better than this life.

'Al mal paso, darle prisa;' if you're in a bad situation get out as quick as you can.

MASSIVE thank you to 'Albiku' for fixing my Spanish! =D Gracias - see, I'm learning ;-)
xx