Life was pain. Pain that he felt every time he picked up a pencil. Life was misery; misery he felt every time he thought his hand would tremble with the force of being oppressed. And life was that trapped feeling in the pit of his stomach screaming at him to stop living this lie…because he wasn’t really living at all. Life was screaming at him with everything it had within itself, to live, to stop wasting his life. That he was still just breathing. And all the heartbreak, and the misery, and the pain, it seemed, didn’t make him real at all. To be real, you had to be able to be touched, right? He couldn’t be touched the way he wanted to be. He was the metaphorical boy of wood, shielding anything and everything from him. The timber walls being erected around his being, blocking out the attackers and rescuers. But, somewhere deep inside of him, that growing black mass, clawed in for the ride, it wanted him to scream, wanted him to hurt, wanted the physical abuse that never came his way. It wanted numbness, it wanted him to feel everything, and it wanted screaming silence. The dull beat of a heart that really shouldn’t be beating at all. The soft thud-thud reverberating in his ear, he focused on that sound, counted the beats –slower, slower – faster, faster – It wasn’t fair, he thought, to have all this and not want any of it, to not appreciate it. He couldn’t, and Justin knew that was a fact. After everything that happened, he couldn’t ever take this as a gift and treasure it as something beautiful and warm. Justin couldn’t possibly muster the energy to even try to feel what John was feeling for him. Brian didn’t think he had ever gotten up this early before in his life, all work related issues aside. But, here he was, at the fucking park with his son, who was currently scaring all the pigeons away. Brian let out a soft chuckle as he heard Gus growl low in his throat and jump back when the birds began to scatter. Their weekends together were few and far between, and Brian found out that the loft was actually a pretty desolate place with just him residing in it. So Gus had joined him, and sometimes the loft didn’t come out unscathed. He enjoyed the weekends he had with Gus, even though he didn’t want this parenthood thing trapping him down just yet. He shook his head once more before turning his full attention to his son. And this was the day that Justin, who was feeling awfully trapped already, had stepped out of the refuge of John’s apartment by himself. John’s revelation had put a scare into him, a first for Justin, to be scared of someone’s love. A love he neither wanted nor needed, but was given to him nonetheless. So, Justin had gathered his sketchbook and Discman into the small backpack John had bought him, and went to the park. He, of course, left a sleeping John a post-it note on top of his laptop, saying where he was and that he would be back shortly. The weather was still a little cold, but spring should be here soon. He didn’t exactly know what that meant, why the season’s changing could affect him in any way, but he still took notice of it. He wrapped the tan coat tighter around him and continued to trudge through the morning sidewalk traffic. It was ten o’clock on this brisk Sunday morning and people were already on the streets, window-shopping and hunting for bargains in the small boutiques. Justin hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone he recognized. He found a small bench with a huge oak beside it, cloaking him from the other park visitors. He found that he needed this morning to regroup and think about all that had happened … or he could just ignore it all. He sat, Indian style, on the bench looking out at the small pond that was sprawled before him, it’s water rippling with the oncoming wind. He took the Discman out and the cranked the volume as loud as it would go, drowning out all other noises that might disturb him. Next, was the sketchbook and small pencil trapped in the spiral atop it. He had the feeling that whatever he drew today, was going to be beautiful. The small pond turned out to be a great muse. The weeds coming out of the four corners, the striking water flowers that were floating on it’s surface, swaying with the wind, their roots keeping them trapped in place, he captured this all on the paper before him. He did the tree next; it’s mighty branches shielding him. The tree looked very tall, coming out of the earth with a huge trunk supporting it. Then, he let his imagination get the best of him; for the first time in a long time he drew Brian. Brian sitting in this park, on this bench, looking out onto the water. And he felt content. That feeling didn’t last long, because a hand, seemingly coming out of nowhere, suddenly landed on his shoulder shaking him from the zone he was wrapped up in. “What the…” he gasped, as he flung the headphones off his ears. There was a soft laugh as he looked up into crinkling hazel orbs. Eyes, he felt, that he hadn’t seen in an eternity. Eyes, that he had been drawing just seconds before. “Hello Justin.” Brian said softly, his arms full of layers of clothes that looked to be hiding a little boy. Justin looked down at his paper, and shut the book quickly, flinging all that he had into the backpack. He stood up hastily and smiled. “Hey. Is there a human underneath all that?” He said apparently out of breath. The thing underneath it all let out a giggle. “Yeah, muncher’s precautions.” Justin had nodded. “Gus, say hi to Justin.” And with that statement, the thing became wild in his arms and managed to uncover his face from the hat and scarf. “Jus?” The little boy asked timidly. “Hey Gus.” “Jus!” The little boy yelled assured this time that his favorite playmate was indeed before him. The little boy struggled out of his father’s arm looking for Jus. Justin outstretched his arms taking the boy from a grateful Brian. “How ya been doin’ kid?” Justin asked Gus playfully. Gus had only nodded and went back to patting Justin on the cheeks. “How have you?” “Okay.” “You still with the suffering musician.” Brian asked tensely. Even saying anything remotely connected with Ethan left a bitter taste in his mouth, he hoped that Justin would wise up soon and kick his ass to the curb. He could do so much better. He could – Brian stopped his thoughts before they went to far. Justin had said nothing but, simply shrugged his shoulders. Brian raised an eyebrow on the issue, but Justin had simply looked at him, so he dropped it. “Anyway, we were about to go get some coffee.” “We?” “Smart little buggar,” Brian reached out affectionately to rub Gus’ hat covered head, Gus’ hands immediately came up to smooth it back down, scowling at his father. “He’s mature for his age.” “Yeah.” Justin scoffed quietly, handing the bouncing boy back to Brian. “Would you like to…” Brian let it trail off, and this time Justin raised his eyebrow in question. Justin looked down at his watch for the first time in coming out today, and gasped. It was just past twelve thirty. He had been there for almost three hours. “Not today boys.” Justin had said hurriedly, picking up his bag. “I gotta get going.” Brian had looked at him, a mix of amusement and question, but said nothing. “It was nice to see you Gus…you too, Brian.” Justin said, walking backwards away from them. He waved to Gus, who was waving back with both hands as Brian supported him. “Yeah, you too.” He said when Justin was out of earshot. John hadn’t noticed that the other occupant of his bed was absent the entire morning. So, when he finally managed to rouse himself from the deep comfortableness of sleep, he was surprised to see he was alone in bed since the first arrival of Justin. He sat up suddenly looking around the wide expanse of his apartment. “Justin?” He yelled and the sound echoed through the apartment. John pulled himself up out of bed and moved towards the kitchen. A small yellow square on his laptop distracted him and for the first time he had seen Justin’s handwriting. Went to the park, be back at around eleven. –J John looked up at the small clock beside his papers, it was almost one. A brief flare of worriment rose up in him, what if Justin had returned back to that kid? Or Kinney? What if he was there right now? John’s imagination went into over-drive, concocting wild dramas that all involved Justin having a good laugh at his expense. Justin, after all, had not returned John’s sentiment. John clenched his fist and willed the images to go away. The images were disappearing slowly, but he couldn’t get rid of the jealousy that the younger man had aroused within him, creeping its way up into his veins. He had the sudden need to have Justin with him at this moment, what the hell was the kid doing at this time in the morning anyway. Making up for lost time, he clenched his eyes shut and moved to the closet, he needed to get dressed. Justin was propped up in the elevator, watching the boy that worked it stand stock still, almost aching to turn around and look at him. The guy wasn’t that bad looking after all, and Justin had gotten a good look at him when he had first entered the elevator. A brunette, brown eyes, lanky. Justin had already figured him out in the ten seconds that he had been on the slow elevator. In the closet gay, he knew this already; he practically salivated when he and John were in here last night. Maybe he wasn’t in the closet after all because his hand slowly came up to the large red button and pressed it quickly, almost as if it would scald him if he kept it there too long. Justin arched a brow when the boy turned around and looked at him questioning. Justin smirked and moved towards the boy, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing the boy’s mouth to his at a crushing speed. There wasn’t time to think about John or, hell, even Brian when the boy’s surprisingly nimble hands already had the top buttons of his jeans undone, when those same long fingers were grasping his cock underneath the layer of cotton and denim. Justin leaned his head back and let the talented boy work on him. The boy released Justin’s now aching cock from the confines of his underwear and pants and all at once his mouth was working on it, hard. Justin moaned and brought his hands to the boy’s head, fucking his face with a fury that Justin hadn’t realized he had ever possessed. He liked it. The boy was barely keeping up with Justin, but, he kept on with his sucking, grabbing Justin’s balls and squeezing them in his hand. Justin growled and pulled the boy up sharply, turning him around and pushing him against the mirrored wall. “Stay.” When Justin’s voice came, he was surprised at the gruffness of it. It seemed like something was all of a sudden taking over him, twisting him to its’ will. Justin liked this feeling of power over someone, to control them for the briefest of moments. Justin smiled slowly, moving down to retrieve his discarded bag. When the elevator had finally arrived for John, the object of his anxiousness was casually leaned up against the back frame, a rather sardonic smirk set firmly on his face. John had stepped back away from the elevator and watched the young man move towards him. “Where the hell have you been?” John was practically seething. He couldn’t believe that Justin was acting so indifferent when he, was practically on the verge of hysteria. “I left you a note.” A look was passed between Justin and the elevator boy, before the gate was shut and the elevator moved down again. John was mystified and growing angrier by the minute. “Yeah, it said you would be back at eleven. It’s fucking one-thirty now.” Justin had stopped and stood before him and looked at him like he had just said the stupidest thing in the world to him. “I lost track of time.” Justin said, rather put out, and moved past him towards the apartment. John was too shocked at first to do anything but stand in the deserted hall and look at the closed elevator doors. Justin was taking off his coat and throwing his bag onto the couch when John finally came inside. “You fucking lost track of time.” John said exasperated. “What the fuck where you doing?” “I was at the park.” Justin said, bending over to untie his shoes. “And now I’m going to take a shower.” John’s ears perked up at that statement, something was going on. “Why?” John moved closer to where he was by the sofa. “Because I fucking feel like it!” Justin yelled, finally fed up with John’s line of questioning. John was looking at him in a way that he had never looked at him before. Not the adoring face he got all the time, which he was quickly getting sick of. This was a face of controlled rage, of a jealous man that was coming closer to the edge. Justin had a sudden urge to see what John was like when he was really angry. He decided to play this game. “Don’t fucking yell at me! Where the fuck where you Justin?” John was standing on the edge; his hands clenched tightly, his mouth set in a thin line, waiting for Justin to answer. “I already fucking told you John. I was sketching at the park, for the last time.” “Let me see them.” Justin looked at him for a moment. Brian had never demanded to see his sketches; they were almost like a journal to Justin. Someplace safe and warm, where he could go anytime he wanted to. For John to see them, it would be like baring his whole soul to John, giving everything of him away at one moment. “No.” Justin stood firmly on this position and if John would not leave it at that, he would just destroy the book, better it be destroyed than to have another look at it. “Let me fucking see it!” John demanded, moving closer towards the boy. Justin grabbed the bag off of the couch, holding it tightly to him. “No! You don’t fucking trust me to tell you the truth?” “Why would I? Cheating seems to be your nature, doesn’t it Justin? First with Kinney, then with the violinist, and now with me!” “You don’t know a fucking thing John, and you are not getting anywhere near my book. They are mine.” At first all John could see was red, red streaming over his vision and moving into his body at a speed unknown to anything on this earth. Red taking over his will and mind. And when the red faded, he saw the man he was beginning to love more than anything on this earth, clutching that damn bag to him, like it was the most vital thing in the world to him. John wasn’t even thinking when he lunged at the boy, both of them tumbling towards the soft carpet of the living room. John didn’t notice that his arm had hit one of the sharp corners of the coffee table and that one of his flying feet had hit the floor lamp, causing it to come crashing down a few feet away from them. His eyes were intently on the blue ones that were staring unflinchingly at his own. He didn’t see any fear in the azure depths, only a spark of anger that was growing to almost rival his own. Justin’s hands came up to protect himself, the cause of the argument slipping to the floor, the two rolling over each other, didn’t notice, too busy grappling to see who was to be the dominant one. Justin had bared his teeth, pushing roughly at the man that was on top of him, trying to budge him from his position. Before he knew it, John’s fist came out of nowhere hitting him soundly in the ribs. Justin gasped and curled into himself, sparing the area from further attack. John sighed and moved off the boy, he turned to get the tote. “I said no.” John was flung onto his back, and kicked just as soundly in the ribs. He groaned and was up on his feet in a matter of seconds. “Fuck you, Justin. I don’t care.” He made one more attempt to get the damned bag. Justin’s hand came out suddenly, acting of it’s own accord, heading straight for John’s eye. Direct contact. John stumbled away holding his wounded eye. He straightened himself after a few moments and turned a lethal glare on Justin. “Give that book to me right now Justin, or I swear to God you will regret it.” Justin smirked at the comment, which only fueled John’s anger. “What? Regret getting the shit kicked out of me?” John snarled at his comment and a light chuckle passed Justin’s lip. Neither knew what had happened, until Justin felt the first blow, the first of several. John wasn’t aware what he was doing, his blind rage controlling him. All he could think, all he could feel, all he could taste was an anger that was building to climax. And that climax would be beautiful in all its’ maddening glory. Strong hands hit harder, nailed fingers dug into tender flesh, and the smell of blood was filling the air in the apartment. And neither of them had had enough. Justin was having his first taste of this delicious agony and John was remembering the way it felt to have someone bend and break underneath him, they were both falling in love with the sensations this new situation was bringing to the both of them. A deep-seeded need was growing in them; a hunger for something that would both destroy them was developing in these fatal moments. Woody’s was almost desolate tonight, Brian observed as he sipped his Beam from the corner of the bar. With this viewpoint, he could see everyone that was coming through the lighted doors and he didn’t see a damn thing that could hold his attention for very long. He knew that if he really wanted to have a go, he was in the wrong place to do it. But, he was still stewing over his little discussion with Emmett, who was unsurprisingly right on all the things he had said to him. Brian hated that. He let out a long sigh and looked into the amber liquid in front of him. Was Justin still with that Ethan? He had merely shrugged when Brian had asked him about his absentee boyfriend. A small amount of pleasure was derived from the fact that Justin seemed just a little less happy than normal this morning. Maybe he was realizing what an ass that kid was. Brian let himself imagine a groveling Justin pleading him to take him back. A small smile passed his lips and he shook his head. This kind of thinking was getting him nowhere. Did he even want Justin back? Of course he did, but he was adamant about letting Justin get all the experiences that Brian had had during his college years, and they where some of the most hazy memories of his life. He thought he had had a pretty wild ride during college, not that he could vividly remember anything particular about his college years. He had never loved school, but it was a necessity that was vital to him getting the job of his dreams, the car of his dreams, the money of his dreams. Looking back on it now, it seemed just like a means to an end. He could remember the end with ease, he was grateful to finally be out of school, on his own, and starting anew. He didn’t want to deprive Justin of anything he might find during his own college years. And Brian was certain that if Justin were still with him, he would not be having any of those experiences. Damn the kid was certainly loyal, well, up till the end. Brian didn’t want to think about the end anymore. They were both at fault and that was it. He shook his head once more and got up to leave. Maybe he could catch the boys at Babylon if he hurried. There were little spots dancing along the line of his vision. He watched the black dots for a moment or two, before opening his eyes wider. The right one winced suddenly, an intense pain shooting through his skull. There were now swirls of black, and he couldn’t really make out anything that was happening above him. It felt like he was slipping into an abyss, getting farther and farther away from the place he was. Suddenly, he felt strong hands pull him up from his resting place atop the carpeted floor. He wouldn’t have noticed that these hands were undressing him if he hadn’t of felt the rough fibers of his clothes chafe up against his skin. They were walking now, down a barely lit hallway, he felt the solid wood underneath his feet and felt himself wake up just a little bit more. Hands were leading him towards a running shower and for the first time he realized just were he was. “John?” “I’m sorry, Justin.” He brought his hand up and gingerly felt the place on his head that hurt the most; his fingertips were stained crimson when he looked at his hand. It felt like he had just got the shit kicked out of him. Oh wait, he had. And now that his sight was getting a little more clearer, he could already see the pale prints of fingers on his wrists, the scratches from John’s nails on his chest, the taste of blood on his lips. John was behind him, holding Justin to him, but Justin had a feeling that John didn’t leave the battle unscathed either. Justin closed his eyes, and the pain behind the right one lessened slightly. He could feel John pressing butterfly kisses to the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”