"Hi."

"Hi."

Silently, Brian removed himself from the door, moving to the side.

Silently Justin entered.

"Hum, the box is over there". Brian went to the dinner table and Justin followed.

Justin's hand was going for the box when Brian stopped him.

"Look, I don't really know what to say…"

"It's alright. I don't either. It's not like we're never going to see each other again. You'll keep on coming at the diner and we'll eat at Deb's…"

"Not me. I'm banned, remember."

"Oh… well, I'm sure it won't last."

Brian snorted.

"Hum, thanks for packing."

"Wait", persisted the older man when Justin went one more for the box.

The blond patiently waited - at least that's how it seems from the outside, because on the inside, Justin was screaming. He couldn't wait. He had to go now or he'd leave running without his belongings.

"While I was doing this treasure hunt, gathering your shi… stuff …"

Shit, why did he keep on doing that? The truth was; it was a habit. From the beginning he had called Justin's things "shit". At that time it may have been what he thought, but not anymore. Seeing Justin's things in his loft was not something he dreaded or that annoyed him. It was even the opposite.

He went on: "I came to the conclusion that I didn't like it."

"My stuff?" Justin asked, shared between hurt and anger.

"Gathering your stuff. "

The blond looked at him, a bit lost, and Brian was feeling lost himself. He hadn't prepared a speech but maybe he should have -not that Justin's eyes would have allowed him to enunciate properly anyway.

"You said I treated you like crap and you were right. I did. I shouldn't have but I did and despite what you may think, it wasn't easy. It hasn't been easy for me to hurt you."

"Are you … are you saying you did it on purpose… to hurt me?", Justin asked, the level of his voice dropping at each word.

"I guess. Maybe. I don't know. I was angry. At first I thought I was angry at you, because you put your nose in my business, but now I think I was mostly angry. I just took it on you. It's easier to be angry than… "

"Scared?"

"I'm not scared. Shit, I'm not some sissy faggot!"

"Everyone is scared once in a while. I'm scared for you."

At that, Brian looked into Justin's eyes and he couldn't suppress his surprise or his love from showing on his face.

"I'll be fine."

"You don't know that. But I'm sure you will", Justin rapidly added, not standing to even express his fear out loud.

Brian gave him a small smile.

"It's not just the way you treated me after you found out that I knew. It's the fact that you didn't even bother telling me what was happening. I'm your… I was your partner. It hurts that you didn't trust me."

"I trust you."

"No you don't or you'd have told me. You must think I'm an idiot if you even thought for one second that I wouldn't notice something was wrong."

"You're not an idiot, I never thought you were stupid. It's just that…"

"That what?"

"It's just that it's easier if you don't know."

"Why would it be easier?"

"Brian?"

The older man glanced everywhere in his loft, searching for any kind of an exit.

"Telling you makes things real", he finally said, voice strong, eyes pointedly staring into Justin's.

The young man was at a loss for words.

"It was easier with you not knowing and me trying to look for excuses than you knowing and trying to make everything better."

"Why would that be bad? Why helping you would be so bad?"

"You helping me bothers me. I bet as soon as you heard the message you called every services, doctors, went on the internet, even maybe at the fucking library, reading everything with the word "cancer" and "testicle" in it."

Justin couldn't restrain a smile.

"Yeah, Sunshine, I'm sure it was hard for you, looking at all those pictures of cock and balls", Brian smirked before straightening up once more.

"Look I don't need you babysitting me. I'm sure you'll mean well but you making a fuss out of it would not help me."

"I know. I know that; I wasn't going to do that. I didn't!"

Brian arched his eyebrows, unconvinced.

"I didn't!", Justin exclaimed more forcefully. "I didn't say anything, did I? And when you supposedly went to Ibiza, I didn't say anything either. And when you were too tired to even stand up I didn't make a deal out of it. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even cry in front of you!"

"Christ, Justin", Brian replied in a whisper. "That's exactly why I didn't say anything."

"What, so you didn't have to bear see me cry? Fuck you!", answered a pissed Justin, cheeks flushed.

"So I didn't make you cry!"

They stared at each other for a long moment trying to keep some composure. Justin could see the black circles around Brian's eyes. He still looked beautiful. It was kinda unfair that even in his worst moment the man could look better than most people at their best.

"You're young; you shouldn't have to go through that."

"So are you. And you shouldn't have to go through that either, not alone."

"I'm fine."

"Well I'm fine too", counteracted the blond in his usual stubborn way.

"The fuck you are! You're all red, Sunshine. Stayed too long under the sun?"

"What sun? It's winter. And fuck you! Stop treating me like a kid. I can take care of myself, and if I want to take care of you it's my decision."

"Oh really, don't I have a word to say in it?"

"No, you don't."

Brian Kinney's eyebrows going up, Justin Taylor's joining them.

"Look Justin, I appreciate your… concern but I'll be fine and…"

"You want me gone, I got it."

As Justin turned his back to Brian and started to walk away, Brian shouted in an impulse:

"I can't fuck you."

Justin stopped right in his tracks. He slowly turned towards the older man who was frenetically cursing.

"Wh-wha-what?"

Brian pinched his nose while Justin continued to stammer. Apparently the blond's brain had turned itself off.

"I –can't-fuck-you", Brian repeated, separating every word.

"I didn't come for that!", threw an indignant Justin.

"I didn't mean now, although not know either. I mean, I'm just … shit, I'm too fucking tired and my ball…the fucking scar burns. So I can't fuck you. I don't know for all long…"

"Do you really think it matters? I'm not with you because of the fucking. Yes, it's a big part of our lives and a big part of why I'm crazy about you but it's not all. Or is it for you?"

"Of course not."

"See, it's the same for me. I'm sure once you have your full strength back you'll fuck me into the mattress in no time and harder than ever."

Justin realized what he had just said when Brian looked at him with a smirk and -could it be? - hopeful eyes.

"I mean... if... when... hum..."

"If you could pass the fact that I'm an asshole and that I'll probably puke my guts out for the next few weeks…"

"Well, you'd have to accept that some of my "shi…stuff" hangs around the loft."

"I don't mind your shit, Justin."

It was said with such sincerity that the young man stopped breathing for a second.

"Really?"

The kid like expression that Justin displayed at that moment brought Brian back to a time where he would have done anything to get rid of the kid, even though even back then he didn't do anything. Now the kid had turned into a man and Brian would do anything to not get rid of him.

When Brian nodded, his lips encased in his mouth, eyes dropped to the floor, Justin took a step forward. The taller man opened his mouth to say something but no words came. Justin smiled, surely to make fun of this man who was not able to form coherent thoughts when in front of this younger smaller man.

"You're a little shit, you know that?", asked Brian, taking Justin into his arms, Justin's short hair tickling his neck.

"And you're a big asshole."

Brian could only nod.

XX

XX

Justin stayed that night, the box long forgotten on the table.