Justin was drinking. A lot. For him anyway. He almost never drank. But he felt left out and out of place. Everyone was in the living room, sitting and drinking, the precursor to cake and presents. Brian had ruffled Justin's hair and then went to sit next to Mikey on the couch. Justin was the only one not sitting. He was standing (near the table with the booze). And…Mikey and Brian were talking about birthdays past. The year they snuck into Babylon for the first time. The year they drove cross-country to California to attend a Comic con because it fell exactly on Mikey's birthday. The year Brian dressed "the twins" up in tights and capes and gifted them to Mikey (apparently, they were a pair of gorgeous hustlers, tall, built, brunets). That was ostensibly the one and only threesome Mikey'd ever had. And boy was he grateful (albeit slightly embarrassed by the revelation). Then Emmett and Ted got on the trolley careening down memory lane. The sweet, shy looks Mikey had been shooting Brian and the resultant soft smiles on Brian's face were replaced (Justin thanked all that was good in this world for that) with uproarious laughter. Justin was relieved. At first. Then came all the tricking stories.

Mikey giggled. "Do you remember the time Brian had a waiter under the table at Antonio's sucking him off?"

Emmett nodded. "We almost starved!"

Ted sighed heavily. "He overturned the best Cab I ever tasted getting a little too…"

"Frisky?"

"Enthusiastic."

Brian drawled, "That was the best meal I ever had."

Mikey elbowed Brian in the ribs. "Don't you mean the best meal he ever had?"

Brian shrugged. Then he smiled, slow and lazy. Ouch. Justin closed his eyes and drained his rum and diet coke. He immediately poured himself another.

Mikey giggled, nearly falling over he was laughing so hard. "Oh, oh…and do you remember the weekend the Milan's Men's Choir came to Pittsburgh while on their year-long American tour?"

Emmett piped up, "They had a lot to praise Jesus for that Sunday…"

Ted's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Why don't I know about this? Where was I?"

Brian shrugged.

"So…you fucked all of them?"

Mikey giggled. "What do you think?"

Ted shook his head in wonder. "Wow…an entire men's choir…" He sighed. Brian was always the one scoring. He glanced at Justin and frowned. Brian had a perfectly hot…whatever Justin was…

But then, he returned his gaze to Brian and smiled. "So have any men's choirs come to New York City lately?"

Mikey smiled, too, and nudged Brian. Even Emmett got in on the teasing. "Do tell, Brian."

Before Brian had a chance to say word one, Justin erupted, "I'm all Brian needs."

Brian groaned inwardly. Bringing Justin here had been a huge risk, one he probably shouldn't have taken. Brian moved quickly (to put out fire number two), crossing the room in two steps, taking Justin's hand (and removing the now empty rum and coke), pulling Justin close, and lifting Justin's chin with a finger. Then he placed a gentle kiss on Justin's lips. That's all it took. Justin's mind went blank. Brian could tell because his eyes glazed over, and a flush began creeping across Justin's cheeks.

Brian spun Justin around so that he was facing away from Brian, leaning back against the man, and slid an arm around Justin's waist. A hint of a smile crept across Brian's lips. Now all Brian had to do was keep Justin busy until someone changed the subject. Just like before. Brian leaned in and kissed Justin's neck.

Justin moaned softly, "Mmm."

"So yeah, Brian hasn't tricked since we started dating."

Fuck. He should have used tongue.

But Brian managed to get Justin back. For the first two and subsequent 'infractions.' Yes, yes, he did.

Justin convinced Brian to take the AirTrain and then the subway (home). Brian still couldn't figure out how. So they were on the 1. Uncharacteristically busy for a Sunday evening, the people just kept coming. At every stop, ten more people got on. Brian and Justin were originally sitting down. But as people started piling in, in front of Justin, he stood and swiveled around so that he was standing in the aisle but by one of the doors holding onto the handle. Brian grumbled but stood, too. Sideways, in front of Justin. That was alright, until the next stop. Then ten people trooped in (no one got off), so Justin swung around so that he was right next to the door (in the gap between the seats), holding onto the same handle. He'd pushed Brian aside to do it.

Brian took up position behind him. He needed to nip this panic attack in the bud. It's not that Brian was worried about Justin. He certainly wasn't afraid for him. Brian Kinney didn't do that. Mothers did that. He was nobody's mother. He was barely Gus' father. No. He just didn't want to move at every stop, and he didn't want to experience the embarrassment of Justin's passing out or starting to scream.

Brian leaned closer to Justin, brushed his lips against Justin's ear, and whispered, "Shut your eyes." Then Brian slid his hand from the pole to Justin's waist. Brian pushed Justin's shirt up in the back and traced his fingers along Justin's bare skin, from his hip to the middle of his back. Then he slid his hand lower, massaging Justin lightly with one hand until it reached Justin's crack. Brian was suddenly very fond of Justin's atrocious cargo pants.

At this point, Justin's breath was coming in short little puffs. Brian couldn't be sure whether Justin was actually breathing in. He didn't think so.

When Brian let his hand wander further down, playing at Justin's entrance with two fingers, just brushing over it lightly, Justin breathed, "Oh, fuck."

And when Brian slid his hand to the front of Justin's cargo pants, and grabbed Justin's now fully erect cock firmly, Justin moaned.

Brian whispered, his lips still poised against Justin's ear, "I'm going to jerk you off right here."

"Wait."

"Don't worry. No one's paying any attention to us. It's too crowded."

"Oh. Mmm." Brian had started to squeeze even harder.

"Don't cum."

Justin laughed. "You really didn't have to say that."

Brian shrugged. "If you say so."

Then he started stroking Justin's dick while also tracing the tip of his tongue along the curve of his ear.

Justin whispered, "Fuck. Fuck."

Still stroking steadily, Brian exhaled against Justin's ear (causing Justin to shiver) and then turned to Justin's neck, tracing its contours with the tip of his tongue and then sucking hard at the pulse point.

"Oh … God …"

After the first few stops, people started getting off the train. More and more with each subsequent stop. Meanwhile, fewer were getting on. But Justin still had his eyes shut tight. And with Brian's hand on his dick, Brian's erection pressing against his ass, and Brian's mouth on his neck, Justin was lost. The car could have been full (as it had before Brian'd started his 'ministrations') and Justin would have heard only the sound of his own ragged breathing, that and the rushing of his blood south, like the roaring of the ocean in a conch shell.

Brian swiped his thumb over the head of Justin's cock and then started stroking Justin's cock once more. Every two or three strokes, Brian stopped to squeeze Justin's shaft. Hard. So hard. Justin was so hard and so close. The rushing in his ears seemed to grow louder. Louder and louder. He needed to cum so badly. It took all Justin's willpower to push back his orgasm. In fact, he was so focused on this one not-so-simple task that he no longer managed to keep his voice low, to keep most of his moaning in. He muttered, "Fuck, oh fuck, Brian. Yes. Yes," "Oh, mmm … ohhh, and then a sound unrepresentable by the English alphabet. After about twelve stops of this torture, it was time to get off (but not in the way Justin wanted. No. His balls were swollen and had started to ache). Justin was not aware that they'd reached their stop, only that Brian's perfectly shaped lips and warm wet tongue and the hand that had been squeezing and stroking, cruelly taunting, were suddenly gone.

Justin whimpered mournfully.

Brian laughed. He'd pulled away from Justin completely, but now, he was back, well his mouth was, sending warm puffs of air trilling against Justin's ear. "We've arrived."

Justin replied, "Huhn," an exclamation/question barely uttered and made even less understandable by the shiver Brian's warm breath caused.

Brian explained, "We're here."

Then Brian and his mouth were gone.

Justin shivered once more. "Oh." Justin opened his eyes and turned around slowly, preparing to thread his way through the crowd of people on the train, only to discover that there were just two other people in their car. Two old ladies. They stared, wide eyed and frowning, at Justin's prominent erection.

"Disgusting!"

"You should be ashamed of yourselves!"

Justin turned beet red and ran (literally) off the train. He slowed down once he reached the platform, but did not stop.

Brian stepped off the train and … despite the slight nauseous feeling it caused … called after Justin, though in as playful a tone as possible, "Where ya going?"

Justin didn't stop or look back. "Home to jerk off."

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth for a moment. Then he sighed and started walking in the direction Justin was headed. God, he was pathetic. He was actually chasing after someone (not running, but walking quickly). It was little comfort that his legs were longer and therefore catching up to Justin didn't require too much speed or time. Ten seconds and a few strides later, Brian grabbed the hood of Justin's sweatshirt. Then he breathed, "I don't fucking think so." Brian pulled Justin back (by his hood) and then grabbed Justin's sleeve and spun him around.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing what I started."

A/N: I'll finish the flashforward soon and then return to the present. I have to do a little work.