As Justin and Brian were walking down the exterior staircase, it started to rain. Brian frowned, but Justin smiled brightly and tilted his face skyward.

Brian muttered, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Justin didn't even look at Brian. He simply laughed and spun around. "I'm enjoying the rain. The city gets so hot, and it can be a little gross…trash everywhere; the buildings, the streets, and even some of the people covered in filth…"

Brian rolled his eyes and interjected, "Not where I live."

Justin shook his head. "I love the smell and the feel of rain on iron, stone, cement, and leaves…"

Brian just stared at Justin blankly for a moment. Then he sighed and pulled out his phone. "Drive a few blocks and wait."

Justin looked at Brian in confusion. Brian plastered a fake smile on his face and took Justin's hand. In a somewhat mocking voice, he prodded, "Come on, Ann Marie, let's enjoy the rain."

Justin would have been insulted by the reference, he was hardly an aspiring actress from Brewster, but he was too happy that Brian was offering to walk with him in the rain, holding hands. He smiled one of his highest wattage smiles and threaded their fingers together. In spite of himself, Brian smiled at Justin. A soft smile. Then half-laughing, he exclaimed, "Why are you so weird?"

Justin shrugged. "I live in this neighborhood because it's cheap, and, despite appearances, it's safe. Plus, we have roof access. And I never want to be a person who rushes from a building into a fancy car and then into another or who reads every time he's on the subway. I moved here because I wanted to experience the city, everything about it, including the filth."

Brian said nothing in response, but suddenly, his chest felt hollow. He couldn't help but admire Justin's bravery and exuberance. After what he'd been through, the bashing, the harassment, the loss of function in his hand, the abandonment of his family, it was a wonder he had not completely shut down. It was a wonder he was not angry at the world. Suddenly Brian needed…something. So he pulled Justin against him roughly and kissed him. At first it was just a peck, but then, Brian released Justin's hand, slid his hands behind Justin's neck, and thrust his tongue into Justin's mouth. Justin sighed softly, slid his arms up to Brian's neck, and kissed him back, his fire meeting Brian's own. They stood like that, in the middle of the sidewalk, for a few minutes, making out, waves of heat coursing through them despite the chill of the rain falling on their faces. Then they broke apart, flushed and panting, and continued on toward the limo, but more slowly. Neither was eager for their walk in the rain to end.

In the car, Brian actually put his arm around Justin's shoulder. Justin was in heaven. He would have been happy if they spent the entire date in the limo, but they ended up at a restaurant. And not just any restaurant, but the "it place" of the week, Ocean. It served Thai cuisine, but the dishes reputedly included French, Italian, and Mexican touches. The tables were situated in a fountain of sorts. Aqueducts/moats of beautiful grey stone had been constructed all around the room. They were all connected to a waterfall fountain in the center of the restaurant, which fed water into all the different branches. In the branches, water lilies floated here and there. In fact, according to the article Justin had read about Ocean, all the dishes were delivered via small boats floating in the branches. The lighting was dim, blue and green. Justin never thought he'd ever be able to eat in such a fancy, chic place. He was even more pleasantly surprised when the host led them to one of the three tables situated around the waterfall. Everyone wanted to sit at one of these three tables, but very few had enough money or clout to be offered one. Once the host had departed, Justin exclaimed, though softly, "Oh my God, Brian! This is incredible…getting a reservation for this place, a week after it opened, and one of the best tables. Daphne's going to die when I tell her!"

Brian couldn't help but smile. For some strange reason, putting a bright smile on Justin's face made him happy…and, though he would never admit it, he kind of liked impressing him. The conversation was sparse. Justin was too busy sampling the restaurant's signature dishes (not only his own but also Brian's). Most of what came out of Justin's mouth was soft moans and contented sighs. It was incredibly hot. So much so that when they left, Brian hung his coat over his arm to hide his obvious erection.

Now that they were back in the limo, Brian was unsure what to do. He had planned to take Justin to this week's hottest club, but he wasn't sure he could handle watching Justin writhing to music with a pounding bass, not if he wanted to keep their date relatively chaste. Dinner had been torture enough. Brian sighed. What the fuck was he doing? He should take him to the club and, after a few songs, drag him into a dark hallway and fuck him against a wall. Brian groaned and directed the driver to take them back to Justin's building.

Justin was confused. Had he done something wrong? But his mood was back on the upswing when Brian grabbed a bottle of champagne (Dom) and two glasses and then took his hand, leading him out of the car. Then he said, "Care to show me the view?"

Justin smiled brightly and nodded. "Sounds great."

In short order, they were sitting on a blanket on the roof (Justin had grabbed one on their way up), drinking champagne and looking at the stars, which had re-emerged shortly after the rain had stopped. Brian spent the next two hours trying to keep a safe distance away from Justin, but it wasn't easy. After a couple glasses of champagne, Justin decided it would be cool to look down at the street from various vantage points. Unfortunately, the ledge was made of smooth stone, still wet from the rain, so Brian ended up holding Justin in his arms the whole time, leaning over it with him every time doing so struck Justin's fancy. Brian wasn't sure whether his senses were distorted due to the raging hard on he'd had since the restaurant, but Justin smelled and felt so good in his arms. Every time they leaned over the ledge, it took all his willpower not to push Justin up against the door (Brian was horny as hell, but not stupid; no way was he going to risk a ledge fuck) and fuck him into tomorrow. Then after a third glass of champagne, when they were "safely" back on the blanket, Justin thought it would be a good idea to lay his head on Brian's lap. Brian endured thirty minutes of torture, picturing Justin turning his head just a little bit, unzipping his pants, and sucking his dick. The entire time, he unconsciously ran his fingers through Justin's silky blond hair. When Brian could take the sexual tension no longer, he escorted Justin back down to his apartment, kissed his lips gently (no tongue; the dog shit was an ambience killer), and, once Justin was inside, ran down the stairs and jumped into the limo. He could barely wait the twenty minutes it took to get back to the loft before jerking off and cumming harder than he had in years.