Three’s a Crowd 

Chapter 9


“Okay, Brian … don’t worry,” assured James. “I told you when you brought the pictures in that I wouldn’t say where they came from if I was asked … I don’t really understand why you don’t want him to know … but that’s up to you”.

During dinner the previous evening, Brian had okayed it for Justin to meet with James about the proposed show during his intern hours, saying he would square it with Clive and Justin had called James first thing to fix a time.

Brian had also called James to remind him of his earlier promise. He’d met James through Mark and since Mark’s death, James had been managing the art gallery.

“He’s here … I’d better go,” said James quietly and he put down the phone and beckoned Justin into the office and rose from his chair and held out his hand.

After shaking hands, James indicated a chair to Justin and they both sat down. He could see by the young man’s expression that he was already pretty excited at the prospect of his first art show and the two men spent the next few hours discussing whether the show would have a particular theme and what pieces of work Justin had already produced could be used and what he would need to do before the proposed date.

Justin had taken along several more pieces of his work and the mixture of techniques and styles he was capable of amazed James. “You’re a very remarkable young man, Justin Taylor,” he exclaimed. “I’m sure your work will generate a great deal of interest … and from what I’ve seen it’s a certainty that I’ll want to take the show to New York”.

Justin couldn’t hide his pleasure and grinned widely; this was more than he could ever have expected, even in his wildest dreams and certainly not after the bashing when he’d thought art was no longer an option for him. After agreeing what he would need to do in the coming months, he gathered up his work and started to head for the door.

James had been hoping that Justin would forget about the pictures the gallery already possessed, but to his horror, just as the young man was leaving, he asked who had brought them in. James hadn’t really had time to work out his answer, and when asked directly about them he blustered through it.

“Well … I … I’m not sure I can really remember …” said James, unconvincingly and he could see the quizzical expression on Justin’s face. After all, it wasn’t really that long ago and if the pictures had made that much of an impression on him, then surely he would remember who had brought them into the gallery.

Seeing that Justin hadn’t really believed him, the man stumbled even further.

“Well … let me see … yes … I remember now. Middle-aged … greying hair … tall … and slim … yes, I’m sure that’s him. I’ve probably got his name in the file somewhere, if you really want to know …” he stated, hoping to God Justin wasn’t going to ask him to find out. 

Justin thanked him and turned to leave and frowned as he left the building. He remembered vividly the description given by Emmett of the man who had bought the pictures at ‘Torso’: “An old guy … short … fat … and balding”. Now, one of them was lying, but which one … and why? 

Rushing back to the agency, Justin was eager to tell Brian what had happened, but unfortunately, he was out at a meeting with a client. Never mind; it was an ideal excuse to meet up with him in order to talk about it later.

“Mr. Taylor … good of you to join us” but Clive had been informed of Justin’s absence by Brian and was only teasing him. In the short time Justin had been working at the agency, Clive had started to like him immensely and could see that he had an exceptional gift as well as an eye for colour and form. He wasn’t surprised at all that an art gallery might be interested in his work and only marvelled that so much talent was contained within such a young man.

Brian’s work kept him pretty busy over the next week or so and apart from a quick conversation in the corridor, where Justin’s obvious excitement over the show came shining through, they hadn’t run into each other or found an excuse to seek each other out.

The next time Brian caught up with Justin was at the diner when the younger man had come in to do the late shift and having completed his intern hours for the day at the agency. The place was busy and Justin barely had time to say a few words and Brian watched as he rushed from table to table, with hardly a second to spare.

In fact, with completing additional pieces for the forthcoming show, as well as all his other commitments, Justin had no free time at all and even though Brian was secretly thrilled about how the young man’s life seemed to have taken an upwards turn, it also appeared to be taking him away.

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Throughout the next few weeks, Brian and Justin’s lives took them even further apart. Brian’s heavy work schedule, partly prompted by Gardner’s hint at his impending partnership, had found him spending more and more time with clients and making out of town trips where necessary and spending far too much time in lonely and boring hotel rooms and bars.

This particular night on a cold, wet Chicago evening, sitting in the bar of a hotel chain which looked the same no matter what city you were in, the young blond at the end of the counter caught Brian’s eye.

He had a nice smile and bright blue eyes and even though it wasn’t Justin’s smile, the fact that it was directed at Brian with more than just a hint of invitation to sample the goods on display, found Brian realising just how hungry he was for company. 

He’d fought long and hard for the account he’d won that day; requiring all the skills he’d acquired in order to nail the contract and had wined and dined the clients until quite late and had eventually made his way back to his hotel and headed straight to the bar despite his tiredness. He’d ordered his usual beam and now seated at the counter was aware of the young man making his way towards him.

The blond sat on the vacant stool beside him; his intentions couldn’t be any more obvious and he ordered a beer. “I’ll pay for that,” offered Brian and the young man looked at him and smiled.

“Here on business?” he asked him and Brian inwardly sighed. The lines never changed much, but he nodded, downed his drink in one and then ordered another.

The blond took a sip of his beer and placed the glass back on the counter and then lent over and ran his fingers along the collar of Brian’s jacket. “Nice suit … but I bet it looks even better off …”

Without looking at the young man, Brian picked up his second drink and again, threw it down his throat in one swallow. Now he looked at him more closely: he was kinda cute in a hard-bitten sort of way, but there was an attraction of sorts between them, so what the hell.

Taking the blond up to his room, the atmosphere between them was distinctly detached and when the subject of money was mentioned, Brian was hardly surprised: why else would a young man such as this be hanging around hotel bars.

Initially, Brian had baulked at the thought of paying for it; he’d never had to up to now, but the young man was there and the need wasn’t going to go away.

The sex turned out to be routine and hardly stimulating: with Brian realising how cold and automatic were his responses to the young man servicing him. Because indeed that was how it felt; no emotion; just fucking and all the years that Brian had said that was the only thing he believed in were now proving to be empty words. 

Comparing this sex with that he’d experienced with Justin left him feeling totally empty. In fact, what was becoming painfully crystal clear was the confirmation that the sex he’d had with Justin was indeed actually making love; something unexpectedly wonderful and fulfilling and the difference between the two acts so blatantly obvious.

And long after the young man had left and despite his tiredness and the amount of alcohol consumed that evening, Brian lay awake: staring into the blackness with sleep an elusive luxury.

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With several weeks still left before the art show, Justin had begun to hand out invitations to his friends and his family group, with everyone promising they would be there. The gallery were going to a lot of expense and the publicity was extensive and they were hoping for a very good attendance. He still hadn’t been able to catch up with Brian, but had left an invitation with Cynthia who promised she would pass it on.

Having completed his hours at the agency for the day, Justin was making his way to ‘Torso’ in order to give Emmett his invitation and before taking up his shift at the diner. He also wanted to ask him again about the man who’d bought his pictures. But as he approached the store, a knot of people in the doorway prevented him from getting in. Pushing his way though the small crowd, he found Emmett in a rather agitated state.

“Em … what’s happened … are you okay?” asked Justin, concerned at the man’s flustered state. “We’ve been robbed …” came the answer.

“’Scuse me … give the man room …” Ted appeared from the back of the store and ushering the onlookers aside, made his way towards them and he handed Emmett a glass of water.

“Here,” he told him, “drink this”. “Thank you, Teddy,” replied Em, taking the glass and he took a sip of the cold liquid.

“What was stolen?” asked Justin, looking around the store and only now seeing the rail tipped over and the clothing scattered on the floor.

“A rather nice silver spandex top … I’d actually had an eye on that one myself,“ said Emmett, “and some very nice grey pants … he had good taste … I’ll give him that,” and Emmett drank down the remainder of the water before continuing. 

“I’d turned my back and the kid was in and out of the store before I could do anything to stop him.”

“Have you called the Police?” asked Justin and Emmett smiled at him. “Sweetie, the chances of them catching him are probably zero, but I guess you’re right … I probably should call them. Oh my god, I’ll have to call Mr. Donaldson … the owner … goodness knows what he’s going to say …”

“Well,” said Ted, “You never know, the Police might get lucky … once they’ve seen what’s on the security camera …” 

“There’s a security camera?” asked Justin, looking around and Emmett pointed to a camera on the outside of the store, high above the street, which was angled down to take in the doorway. “I’d never noticed it,” said Justin. “Is it connected to a security company?” and Emmett shook his head.

“No, it’s just rigged up to a gizmo in the office at the back of the store … I have to keep changing the tape and then they’re kept for oh … a few months or so and then we record over them … let me get my breath back and then I better go make a few calls”.

Justin’s mind was working overtime. “Okay if I use the bathroom?” he asked. “Sure,” replied Em. “Just mind you don’t step on the clothes …”

Two minutes later and Justin had slipped into the office at the back of the store and he spotted the recorder and the shelf with the videos, each labelled with the dates they covered.

Mentally, Justin counted back and thankfully, found what he was looking for and then quickly, he picked out the video and pushed the rest together to hide the space. He would just borrow it for a while and bring it back later.

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Relieved to find no one home, Justin quickly placed the video in the VCR and turned on the TV and, picking up the remote, he started to play the tape and hit Fast Forward. There he was; a tall, slim brunet in a heavy winter coat and Justin stopped the tape and then pressed Play once more.

Brian was standing outside of ‘Torso’ and looking into the window; he must be either coming from or going to a meeting as he was carrying his attaché case.

After a few moments, he seemed to have come to a decision and then he entered the store. Running the tape forward, there was Brian leaving. Justin frowned; he was still only carrying his attaché case.

Disappointment crept over him. He’d half been hoping that it was Brian who’d bought his pictures; another affirmation of the care for him that the man was trying to disguise. Still, the tape should show who had bought them, so he pressed Fast Forward once more.

Winding the tape on about an hour, Justin jumped as he saw Brian reappear and enter the store again to come out a few minutes later with a package. It would hardly be clothing; ‘Torso’ didn’t carry Armani. No, it looked a little too square and flat for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Congratulations, Brian … you deserve it.” “Thanks Cynthia”, said Brian and they clinked glasses. 

He’d been called into Gardner’s office a little earlier on and the man had given him the good news; his partnership in the agency had been confirmed and the papers drawn up. After Brian had agreed to the terms, they’d both signed on the dotted line and Gardner had opened a bottle of Champagne and poured Brian and himself a glass. However, he had a family gathering to attend and had finished up early, leaving Brian to celebrate his success with Cynthia.

“Going out on the town tonight?” asked his PA and Brian nodded. “Sure thing” he’d answered her and Cynthia stretched up to give him a peck on the cheek before leaving herself: revelling in her own new status. 

There’d been two bottles of Champagne in Gardner’s refrigerator and Brian helped himself to the second before collecting his coat and attaché case from his office and heading home.

“Welcome home, partner,” said Brian to himself and he closed his eyes. It wasn’t really that long ago that those words would have actually meant something, but now, as he closed the loft door behind him and stood still for a moment, apart from the dull sound of traffic coming up from the street below, the loft was silent. Some celebration this was going to be.

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Justin thought for one moment that Brian wasn’t going to open the door; he was sure he was in; the man’s car was parked in the street. 

Having seen the tape, Justin had decided he would have to force the issue of Brian’s feelings towards him after all. It was obvious the man had feelings for him, but why the hell couldn’t he say so? What was he so afraid of?

Justin hated this not knowing and had come to the decision that he would have to confront Brian and take his chances; anything was better then being left in limbo. The least he would do was tell Brian that he loved him, for he knew in his heart and without a shadow of a doubt that he did and the man would have to hear it. And where that would lead them Justin didn’t know, but he knew he’d have to try.

Justin could smell the alcohol on Brian’s breath once he eventually opened the door. “What do you want?” asked the older man; holding the glass in his hand.

“We need to talk,” answered Justin. “We don’t have anything to talk about,” answered Brian, but the young man wasn’t going to give in.

“Okay .. then I’ll talk and you listen,” said Justin, pushing passed a startled Brian; the older man’s surprise at the blond’s directness no barrier to Justin’s determination as he entered the loft. The cushions from the sofa had been pulled onto the floor and on the coffee table were an empty Champagne bottle and a partly consumed bottle of beam. 

“You having a party?” asked Justin and Brian nodded. “Yeah … party for one …” he answered and he closed the door and padded, barefooted, across the floor back to the cushions and sat down.

“What’s the occasion?” asked Justin, immediately sensing something wasn’t quite right. “I’ve been made partner at the agency,” answered Brian and he picked up the bottle of beam and topped up his drink. 

“Congratulations”, said Justin and Brian held up his glass. “Thanks … you wanna join me?” he asked him, but the younger man shook his head. “No thanks,” he was determined to keep a clear head in order to say what he’d come to say.

“Why aren’t you out celebrating?” asked the blond. “I am celebrating …” insisted Brian.

“No … with your friends I mean?” said Justin and Brian threw his drink down his throat and feeling the burn in his stomach before answering; the alcohol taking hold and Brian speaking before he had a chance to catch himself.

“Friends? That would be Lindsay AND Mel … Michael AND Ben … Ted AND Emmett …”

“Ted and Emmett?” asked Justin. “Well,” answered Brian, “they might as well be a couple …” and he stared down into his glass. Damn: how pathetic did that all sound.

Justin’s heart went out to him. Brian’s emptiness and, indeed, loneliness, just seeped out of every pore. Those closest to him had someone they could call on to share things with whilst he was on his own: the spare wheel. At least when Mark had been around, there were times when Brian hadn’t felt quite so alone, but now he obviously believed he had no one to turn to and who would be there for him alone and the feeling of isolation had grown worse with each passing day.

Brian couldn’t stand the silence, or indeed to think that Justin was feeling sorry for him and he fought to clear his head and bring the conversation back on track. “Okay … out with it,” he said at last and looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter …” answered the young man. There was no way he could demand anything of Brian right now; the man was down enough as it was. He didn’t want to cause him any more pain.

“No … there was something you wanted to say … you might as well get it off your chest …”

Justin bit his lip; maybe he shouldn’t pass up this opportunity after all; he may never get another chance. “Okay,” he answered him and he crossed the floor towards Brian and then sat down, cross-legged, on one of the cushions and facing him. 

“There’s some things I don’t understand and I’d like you to explain them to me …”

“Shoot,” answered Brian and he reached for the bottle once more. Justin watched him; Brian was already pretty wasted and Justin didn’t want him passing out before he had a chance to finish what he wanted to say. But Brian’s alcohol tolerance was pretty high; he planned on being conscious for at least a little while longer; he was interested to hear what the blond had to say.

“Well,” said Justin, making himself comfortable and leaning forward, “Firstly … why did you bring me back here instead of leaving me at my apartment when one of my headaches came on? I’d lived there for months on my own … I would have coped … despite the cold …”

“Secondly,” said Justin and counting the points off on his fingers, “you could have put me to bed on the sofa … but instead you gave over your own bed to me … and then I woke up to find you beside me … holding me … ”

Brian looked away; not liking one bit how this conversation was heading as Justin continued.

“I can’t imagine anyone else inviting their partner’s lover to his funeral … even you have to admit that was pretty weird …”

“Then there’s the computer … and telling me about the internship …” “Yeah,” interrupted Brian, looking back at him. “Clive says you’re doing pretty good … I bet there’d be a place for you once you’ve graduated if you’re interested”. Brian was desperate to steer the conversation in a different direction, but Justin was having none of it.

“Don’t change the subject,” instructed the younger man, “because I haven’t even started on when you kissed me … or when you brought me back here and made love to me …and why the hell didn’t you tell me it was you who’d bought my pictures?” 

Justin held Brian’s gaze; the shock on the older man’s face obvious. Justin had it all worked out; he knew exactly what Brian had done for him. He’d been sprung: big time.

How the hell was he going to deny any longer the feelings he had for Justin? He’d spent far too much time, money and emotion since Mark’s death trying to do right by him and though he’d thought initially that maybe he was acting with transferred guilt; doing things that Mark would have done for his young lover, Brian could no longer fool himself, or Justin.

He did have feelings. Strong feelings: undeniable feelings for this young man. But why the hell couldn’t he tell him? Why was he hiding behind his actions instead of just coming right out and saying so? 

Justin reached out and cupped Brian’s face in his hand and the man closed his eyes and lent into it and then slowly, Brian felt Justin’s arms encircle him as the young man moved towards him; held him close; cradling him in his arms.

“I love you,” whispered Justin: voicing his own feelings. “Surely you must know that.”

Brian’s relationship with Mark had been a joke compared to how he felt about Justin and he began to sweat: but it wasn’t the alcohol or the heating in the loft. It was the realisation of the depth of his love and the nearness of the young man and Brian desperately tried to keep his emotions in check. Shit: he didn’t want to do this: fall apart like this and in front of Justin.

Brian clung on for several long minutes; lost in a haze of relief; hearing words he thought he would never hear again and from someone as beautiful, talented and courageous as the young man now holding him and he could feel the heat from Justin’s body. And then the young man pulled back and Brian opened his eyes: those beautiful hazel eyes that shone with moisture and Justin could feel him trembling.

Not too long ago, Brian would have shaken his head, dismissing the young man’s words as not possible; it didn’t happen: he didn’t believe in love. And though Mark had said those words to him, they’d never had the impact that hearing them from Justin was having. Justin wasn’t going to have to repeat them time and time again like Mark had done before he started to believe them. Justin’s conviction in how he felt was so tangible it was as if his words reached into Brian’s chest and entered his very heart and took possession of it.

“I know you can’t say it,” continued Justin, “and I’m not expecting you to … not yet.”

“But when you know that you can trust me … when you believe just how much I love you and that I won’t hurt you … that’s when you’ll tell me,” and Brian pulled Justin in again and held him tightly.

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Brian had felt drained and too exhausted to even contemplate making love with Justin, but somehow, for the first time in his life, not having sex didn’t seem to matter. 

Justin had been the first to move and seeing how obviously fatigued Brian was, had guided him up to the bedroom, where they both stripped off and got into bed.

Lying naked in the younger man’s arms; the total overwhelming feeling of being exactly where he was supposed to be, flowed through Brian. Justin was right, he couldn’t say the words; not yet, even though he knew the young man ached to hear them, despite what he said, but he still wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to screw things up. And with Justin’s arms around him, Brian slept soundly and contentedly.

Holding the man he loved and whom he knew loved him, relief flooded over Justin. He was convinced that at last, Brian could accept how he felt, despite being unable to voice his own feelings in return and the younger man prayed that Brian would give them a chance.

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With the winter sunshine flooding through the windows, Brian awoke to hear Justin pottering around the kitchen. They were both supposed to be at the agency that morning, but somehow Brian didn’t think either of them would make it.

Justin had made some coffee and found some guava juice in the refrigerator and had put on some toast. Content in what he was doing, he was unaware that Brian had positioned himself so that he could watch him from the bedroom and the older man smiled; Justin was wearing Brian’s robe and looked really cute, with the garment being several sizes too large and he could hear the blond humming to himself as he completed his tasks. 

Quickly, Brian lay back on the pillows as Justin gathered everything together and made his way back up to the bedroom, intent on treating Brian to breakfast in bed and the older man wasn’t about to spoil his surprise.

But Justin wasn’t fooled; he could tell by Brian’s breathing that the man wasn’t asleep and he put the breakfast tray on the floor, got on to the bed and crawled up alongside Brian and lay so that their faces were almost touching. Brian opened his eyes and couldn’t resist a grin.

“I knew you were awake,” exclaimed Justin, grinning back and staring into Brian’s eyes. Gently, he lent forward and kissed him; a long, lingering kiss that left them both wanting more, but Justin was concerned that Brian had been working far too hard and without anyone around to keep an eye on him, hadn’t been taking care of himself and he lent down to pick up the breakfast tray. However, Brian knew exactly what he needed: what he was sure they both needed right now and that wasn’t toast and coffee.

Gently pulling Justin back down, Brian undid the belt on the robe and opened it and the younger man sat up to enable Brian to pull the garment off his shoulders and without either of them speaking; words totally unnecessary, Brian lent down for another kiss; Justin arching his body up to meet him.

Brian pulled away and looked at Justin for a few moments and then lent forward to kiss him yet again. A gentle, deeply sensitive, yet passionate connection made between these two men: two men who were fast becoming as one. 

Justin was desperate to feel Brian inside him; possessing him, as was Brian to enter him; to have Justin give himself and to return the love he was beginning to realise he need not fear. 

As the two men reached the heights of their love-making: giving and receiving as much as they both possessed, Brian knew his life would never be the same again, not now he’d allowed Justin in. But did he have the courage to ask him to stay: to share his life completely with him? And afterwards, Justin asked him the same question he’d asked all that time ago in Debbie’s backyard.

“What happens now?” 

Brian shook his head. “I … I don’t know … I need a little time …” and he couldn’t help but see the disappointment on Justin’s face and he reached out and stroked the younger man’s hair; wanting to reassure him. “But I do know I want you around … but I need us to take it slow … not rush things … okay?” And Justin had smiled at him and reached up to kiss him; letting Brian now he wouldn’t push things; that he would let things move at Brian’s pace.

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Brian called Cynthia to give the excuse that he’d been working from home and that Justin had been helping him and to let Clive know and that they would both be in later. He could hear the unspoken questions in her voice, but he didn’t care what she thought. Besides, he was a partner now; he should be able to pick and choose when he’d go into the office or when he felt like working from the loft and if he needed someone to assist him.

Trying to keep things light and normal, they showered and dressed; having decided they should go into work. Brian dropped Justin back at Debbie’s and parked up further down the street. It was Deb’s morning off and he didn’t feel like answering any of her questions right now and he waited whilst Justin rushed in for a change of clothes before they both headed for the agency.

They kissed in the elevator before Justin got off at his floor and Brian rode up to his office. They hadn’t made any firm plans when they would next meet up, but somehow Brian didn’t think they would need to; that everything would fall naturally into place.

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One of the partners walking into the Art Department was not an every day occurrence and heads turned in surprise at Brian’s entrance: even more so when he headed straight for the intern and all conversation ceased.

It was obvious that theirs was not a casual acquaintance and Brian realised he would have to keep things professional; he didn’t want Justin suffering any repercussions of his relationship with management. But it was nearly time to call it a day and as they left together the conversation started up again and both men knew they were likely to be the subject under discussion. 

“Here,” said Brian as they entered the elevator to make their way down to where Brian’s car was parked and he handed something to Justin. He’d stepped out earlier to do a little shopping and hoped Justin would accept the gift.

“A cell phone?” asked Justin and Brian nodded and put his arm around the young man’s shoulders. “I’ve programmed in my cell … the office and the loft. Now we can get hold of each other whenever we want …” and his sentence was cut off as Justin reached up to kiss him. Clearly, Brian wanted to know that he could contact him at any time; something that made Justin feel needed and it was a two-way thing: that he could contact Brian when he wanted.

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“How the hell did that happen?” asked Melanie. She, Lindsay and Gus were seated at the diner and they were watching Brian and Justin sitting in a corner booth. Brian’s arm was casually draped over the back of the seat, as close to being around Justin’s shoulders as he could get without actually touching him and they were talking quietly and laughing together.

Over the last couple of weeks, the gang had suddenly realised that the two men were now openly talking more with each other; increasingly sitting together; touched each other when they thought none of the gang were looking and it had even been reported back that they’d been seen in Woody’s and Babylon and to all intents and purposes, a couple; Not that either of them had mentioned directly their blossoming relationship.

Debbie came over to deliver the girls’ orders and she grinned. “They look pretty cute, don’t they?” she observed and Mel looked up in surprise. “Cute? Well I don’t think I’d ever describe Brian Kinney as cute …” 

“Mel … don’t be so harsh,” scolded Lindsay. “It’s obvious how they feel about each other … you only have to look at them”. “Pity Brian can’t spare some of that affection for his son,” stated Melanie and Lindsay frowned. True, Brian had hardly spent any time at all with Gus recently, but she knew it wasn’t because he didn’t love him. Brian was just shit scared of fatherhood and of repeating his own Father’s mistakes; something she could never explain to Mel and a subject she was constantly defending Brian on.

“I think we’re being talked about,” whispered Justin into Brian’s ear, but neither man really cared what anyone else thought. “I’m probably being berated as a terrible Father,” conceded Brian: watching Melanie’s expression and how she had looked at both him and Gus during her conversation with Lindsay. But he couldn’t really blame her. He had to admit he didn’t spend nearly enough time with Gus as he should or even really as much as he’d wanted to and he couldn’t always blame it on the pressures of work.

Brian took Justin’s hand under the table. “I know we said we’d spend the weekend together … but … would you mind if I spent part of it at least with Gus?” “No … why should I?” answered Justin. “But can I come along too?” Brian looked at him. “Are you sure … you don’t have to?”

“I want to,” answered Justin. “Gus is your son … a part of your life and I want to share that with you … if you’d let me … I won’t get in the way … I can be working on a piece for the show …” 

To hear Justin say he wanted involvement with Gus made Brian realise he was falling in love with him even more. Mark had never wanted to be around his son and never enquired about him and not giving a damn who was watching, Brian lent over to Justin and kissed him; hardly a surprise to just about everyone present.

Extracting himself from the blond’s hold, Brian got up and approached the girls and slid into the booth beside Lindz. “Well,” said Lindsay, smiling. “I must say … you’re looking pretty pleased with yourself these days” and Brian couldn’t really help grinning back; he’d tried to keep his relationship with Justin appearing cool, but he couldn’t help it. Apart from at the agency, where they kept their relationship professional; except of course for when they both were working late and Justin’s visits to Brian’s office after hours; when they were together, he had to touch him and he was beginning to realise that he didn’t really care who saw it.

“I was wondering … any chance I could have Gus on Saturday?” asked Brian and Lindsay and Mel both looked at each other and then Lindsay smiled at him. “Of course … Gus would love to spend time with his Father”.

“Good,” answered Brian. “I’ll pick him up about … 9:30?” and Lindsay nodded her agreement as Justin got up and joined Brian, and with arms around each other, the two men left the diner.

The surprise on Melanie’s face at Brian’s offer brought a smile from Lindsay. “See … he’s not such a bad Father after all,” she stated.

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“Who’da thought it?” wondered Brian. “It’s Friday night … I’ve got a hot date … and I’m staying home!”

In the past, he wouldn’t even have contemplated being home on a Friday, but would have spent until the early hours at Babylon. And as for having a date, there’d been no such thing until he’d started to see Mark.

Brian was actually beginning to feel a little grateful to Mark and was astounded that he should think so. But after all, the man had introduced him to the art of going out on a date; having dinner with someone or taking in a movie or theatre: Something Brian never dreamt he’d take part in and it still felt a little strange to be doing such things.

Not that Brian could really think of Justin as just a date; it was getting far too serious for that. And though they often did go dancing; as Brian loved to watch Justin moving to the music: feeling the beat coursing through them as their bodies gyrated to the rhythm, Brian was becoming quite happy for them just to stay at home, eat take out and watch a DVD. 

So, was Brian becoming more romantic after all? He certainly didn’t think so; and would never consider himself as such, even if Justin always enjoyed having the older man just to himself.

Never one for huge romantic gestures, Brian had been happy that Mark wasn’t the type to spring too many surprises on him or bring him flowers; he didn’t know how the hell he would have handled that. But he knew Justin was different; he was younger to start with and less cynical. Love to Justin was being open about how he felt and would often whisper words of affection without again saying out loud that he loved him: knowing that Brian still couldn’t respond. And Brian would hold him close; hoping to God the young man understood.

And on this particular Friday night, Brian didn’t want to overdo it and that was his excuse for spending the evening alone with Justin. He’d arranged to have Gus tomorrow; the last thing he needed was a hangover or sleep in late. He knew he had some fences to mend with Lindz and Mel; he’d hardly been the doting Father, despite his best intentions. 

Having lived with an abusive drunk for so many years, Brian had initially been terrified he would be like Jack; even after reassurances by Lindsay that she would never have asked him to be the Father of her child if for one moment she’d thought he’d turn out like his own Father.

Brian had collected Justin from Debbie’s, as he was bringing a couple of pieces of his art to work on and they brought in Chinese and a DVD. And they sat comfortably on cushions on the floor and ate and watched the movie; something Brian never thought he’d be contented to do. But just being with Justin and sharing the simple, little things was beginning to become so terribly important; though Brian would never admit it to anyone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Saturday morning and just before 9:00. “I need to go and get a few supplies,” informed Justin, having brought some of his art to Brian’s to work on. “I didn’t realise … I’m running low …” “Okay,” answered Brian and he made his way back up to the bedroom and searched in the nightstand drawer.

“Here …” said Brian and he tossed the keys to Justin. “You better have these. I’ll drop you off and then collect Gus. Can you make your own way back?”

“Sure,” answered Justin and they made their way downstairs. He clutched the loft keys in his pocket: revelling in the ease with which Brian had given them to him.

Brian dropped Justin outside the art supplies store and headed for Lindsay and Mel’s: arriving dead on the stroke of 9:30.

“Well, wonders will never cease,” observed Melanie as she saw Brian park up outside. More than once when he’d made arrangements to see Gus, he’d let them down at the last minute, sometimes without even a phone call and hardly ever with an explanation. Maybe things were starting to change for the better after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having stocked up on everything he needed, Justin was surprised to hear a familiar voice as he left the store and starting to make his way back to the loft.

“Justin?”

He turned around to see who’d spoken to him and found himself face to face with Daphne Chanders: his best friend at St. James’ Academy and who’d been with him at the time he’d come out to his family and who’d been his shoulder to cry on after the bashing and when things went so bad with his Dad.

But then, when he left home, dropped out of school and had moved to a different part of town, they’d lost contact; and it was so good to see her now.

With Justin trying to hang on to all his purchases, they hugged each other tightly. “Daphne … it’s great to see you … I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch …” said Justin, apologetically. “How’s school going?”

Daphne pulled back to look at him. When she’d seen him last, he’d looked so unhappy and she’d been so worried about him, but now he looked fantastic; his old sparkle was back.

“Never mind about me,” said Daphne; taking an interest in what Justin was holding. “Art supplies?” she asked him and he nodded.

“Everything is going so great, Daph … I’m back with my art … I’ve even got a show coming up … and I’ve met the most beautiful man …”

Daphne took him by the elbow, turned him around and got into step beside him. “This I have to hear about” she instructed and she steered him to the nearest coffee shop. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian called Justin’s cell phone, but it was switched off and for a moment, he had a fleeting thought: a bitter reminder of how difficult it had always been to contact Mark on his cell and fought down a sudden surge of suspicion.

He’d taken Gus down to the swings at the park and wanted to let Justin know where they were and was more than just a little disappointed that he couldn’t get hold of him. Maybe it was taking him longer to get the things he needed than he thought it would, but why switch off his cell?

And then when it turned decidedly colder, Brian took Gus back to the warmth of the loft, surprised to see that there was still no sign of Justin and he tried Justin’s cell again and still there was no response. But then as he settled Gus down in front of one of his favourite cartoon videos, Brian heard the key in the lock.

“Hi … what happened to you? I tried calling … your cell’s off”

“Is it? Sorry …” answered Justin flatly and he closed the door and took off his coat and placed his purchases on the counter: all the while keeping his back to Brian.

Sensing something was terribly wrong, Brian slowly approached him and put his arm around Justin’s shoulders. Without a word the younger man turned, lent into him and then the tears came.

Brian held Justin as he sobbed quietly: not questioning him or expecting any explanation and eventually as the tears subsided, the young man looked up at him.

“I ran into an old friend … she told me … she told me Mom and Dad got divorced and that they’d had to sell the house … and now Mom and Molly are living in this little house …” Justin covered his face with his hands and Brian could barely hear his words.

“It’s all my fault … I caused the break-up. If I’d done what my Dad wanted me to do …”

“Hey,” gently, Brian took Justin’s hands and pulled them away from his face.

“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly. “If your Dad can’t accept who you are, that’s his problem … not yours”.

Justin nodded; wanting to believe Brian’s words and allowed himself to be taken once more into Brian’s arms.

His conversation with Daphne had initially been filled with everything that had happened to him since they’d last met; his relationship with Mark and then his death and then meeting Brian and how wonderful his life was now beginning to turn out.

But then he’d asked Daphne whether she’d seen anything of his family. She’d looked down into her coffee cup and he could see by her expression that she wished he hadn’t asked.

Learning of his parent’s divorce had literally torn Justin’s heart in two; leaving him in no doubt that he was the cause of the rift between them. If only he hadn’t come out: if only he’d agreed to go to Dartmouth like his Dad wanted him to and if only there hadn’t been the bashing. Maybe then the family would still be together.

Justin went to the bathroom to wash his face whilst Brian fed his young son the lunch that Lindsay had prepared for him and when the meal had been digested, Brian laid Gus down on the bed for his nap.

Justin was forcing himself to concentrate on the piece of art his was completing for the show when Brian walked behind him and stroked his hair. Justin reached up and took his hand and Brian had lent down and kissed him before moving off into the kitchen.

Making lunch for them both, Brian ate in silence, whilst Justin ignored his food and lost himself in what he was doing; shutting himself off completely from the hurt that was threatening to tear him apart.

After a while, Justin lent away from the table and stretched his back and looked around him. There was no sign of Brian.

Brian had gone to check on Gus and the boy had looked so peaceful in his sleep that Brian had lain alongside him; enjoying just spending time and being with him and had dozed off and that’s how Justin found them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian took Gus back to Lindsay by 5:30. “Do you want to stay and help bathe him?” Lindsay had asked him and Brian hesitated. “Sure … I’d like that” and together they fed, bathed and put the youngster to bed, with Mel staying out of the way and hardly able to believe that Brian was at last showing signs of wanting to be more involved with his son.

“Thanks,” said Brian as Lindsay saw him to the door. “I enjoyed today … being with him”. “You can have him more often, Brian … you know that,“ said Lindsay. “I want Gus to grow up knowing his Father …” and Brian had nodded. “He will,” he assured her and then he turned and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the early hour, Justin had fallen asleep over the table and practically carrying him, Brian had undressed him and put him to bed. Lying beside him in the low light; seeing the pain again on the young man’s face, reaffirmed how deeply Brian felt for him; wanting to comfort him and protect him. 

Justin hadn’t spoken again of his family, but Brian knew how deeply hurt the young man was, even though he’d tried to concentrate on the art show that was almost upon them.

And then the day was here and Justin tried to be excited, but somehow all of this didn’t seem as important as it had.

He’d been at the gallery the night before, helping to display his art and now the nerves had set in. What if no one came? What if they hated his work? But the gallery was soon filled with friends and strangers alike: all marvelling at Justin’s work and the talent of such a young man.

One particular drawing was proving very popular. “That is so beautiful …” 

Lindsay smiled at Justin and squeezed his arm. Gus was in his stroller and she squatted down beside him and pointed upwards. “Look … Gus and Dada,” she said to him. “Dada”, he repeated and Lindsay grinned.

With encouragement from both James and Brian, Justin was working the crowd and his easy manner, once he’d got over his nerves, had started to come through. His drawings were proving very popular and he’d already received several enquiries regarding their purchase and would-be buyers were informed that the show would be going on to New York before sales could be arranged.

Brian had stood back and watched as Justin moved easily among the gathering and he smiled. This was where Justin belonged and he now understood the importance of Justin’s craft to him. Art was Justin; Justin was art.

“He’s a wonderful young man,” said Lindsay to Brian, who had nodded in response. 
“Have you seen this?” she continued, indicating one of Justin’s pictures and Brian shook his head. He’d only seen a few of the pieces and though he’d helped Justin take his work to the gallery, it had all been well protected and he’d let the experts deal with hanging them.

And that’s when he saw it. The beautiful drawing that Justin had made of him and Gus: Father and son: asleep side-by-side, with the love that Brian felt for the youngster radiating from the drawing. For one of the few times in his life, Brian was speechless. He knew which drawing he was going to have to buy; no one else would ever own that one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the gang were there to support him; even a reluctant Michael, who had been brought along by Ben; determined that his partner would start to accept that Justin and Brian belonged together, and despite whatever else was going on in his life, Justin was thrilled at the response the show was receiving.

The attractive blonde woman in her early forties, nervously pushed open the gallery door and she was greeted by a waiter, but she refused the drink on offer; needing to keep a clear head.

Brian recognised her straight away; the likeness was unmistakable. He glanced round; Justin was deep in conversation and hadn’t seen her, but Brian approached her and held out his hand.

“Mrs. Taylor? I’m Brian Kinney …” Jennifer Taylor hesitated and then shook his hand. 

“So …” said Jennifer, looking around. “All this is for Justin?” and Brian nodded. “He’s very talented … as you can see …” and he indicated the pieces of Justin’s artwork adorning the walls.

Jennifer nodded and moving away from him walked up to one of the pieces; studied it and then moved on to the next. She looked around and that’s when she saw her son.

Justin was talking and smiling as he turned around and suddenly found himself looking across the room at his Mother.

Jennifer smiled and took a small, tentative step forwards. Justin didn’t need any encouragement and in a few strides had crossed the floor and for a moment they stood looking at each other before they moved together and hugged.

“Oh Justin … I’m so sorry …” 

Justin pulled away. “It’s my fault … if I …” 

Jennifer shook her head and took her son’s face in her hands. “None of what happened is your fault … it’s all your Father’s. I’m only sorry I didn’t stand up to him sooner”.

“You’re my son and I love you … I should never have taken his side. I’m so proud of you … can you ever forgive me?” But she needn’t have asked and for long minutes, they hugged: totally ignoring everyone looking on.

Debbie sidled up to Brian. “And just how many Taylor’s are there in the book?” she asked him. Brian briefly closed his eyes before speaking. “Too many … way too many,” he answered her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the course of the next few weeks, Justin falling into step with Brian’s life felt the most natural thing in the world – to Justin. It was becoming all too obvious; the way things were progressively moving, but a panic attack would overtake Brian every now and again.

Now when he heard people speak, it was always ‘Brian and Justin’: both names spoken in the same breath; always as a couple and despite feelings that he was no longer able to hide; even to himself, to no longer be thought of as an individual but as one half of a whole, made Brian reassess how he felt and the responsibilities that went along with someone else starting to rely on you; to think that you’d always be there.

Even Jennifer Taylor, who at first struggled enormously with the thought of her little boy having sex with anyone; let alone with another man and a much older one at that, had come around once having been made aware of everything that Brian had done for Justin.

When Brian had called her, he’d initially introduced himself as ‘just a friend’, but it was soon plainly obvious that his and Justin’s relationship was more than that and, at the gallery, she’d observed them when neither of them knew she was watching and the affection that passed between them was obvious: they had to be lovers.

With the art show a resounding success, Brian had backed off and suggested that Justin spend a little time with his Mom and had sent the two of them off to have dinner together to celebrate Justin’s success; even though the younger man had looked on questioningly; he’d wanted to celebrate with Brian. 

But at least he had his Mother back in his life and now contact had been established there was no way they were ever going to lose it again and regular phone calls and frequent visits commenced. Justin even looked forward to the times when he caught up with his kid sister, Molly, who’d missed her older brother, despite his constant teasing and the nickname Mollusc, which he had bestowed upon her from an early age.

It still hurt that his Father rejected him; but now Justin was beginning to believe both his Mother’s and Brian’s words; that it wasn’t down to him; that he should be true to himself about who he was and what he wanted; if his Father couldn’t accept it, that was his loss, not Justin’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A routine seemed to be developing and as the weeks moved on, the loft began to fill with Justin’s possessions; his artwork, school books, clothes, toiletries and CD’s. It was like living with a teenager and it got to the point where Brian found himself falling over things the moment he got inside the door and without warning, the loft was no longer his domain.

His orderly home was beginning to take on an unfamiliar, disorganised look and suddenly, Brian was unable to find things; Justin would move them; re-arrange and then finally, Brian blew his stack.

“For Chrissakes … why can’t I find anything any more?” he’d yelled above the noise of the music being played loudly; Brian was trying to find the file he’d been working on the night before and that he needed to take into the office. Abruptly, he turned off the CD player and stood still; one hand on his hip, the other rubbing his forehead and he frowned.

“Sorry,” said Justin quietly. “I guess … I guess I have sort of … taken over ...” he acknowledged.

“It’s okay,” said Brian, turning round. “I’m just in a hurry, that’s all. I’ve my first meeting at 8:30 and I’m running late …”

“Is this what you’re looking for?” asked Justin, moving his school bag off the table and revealing the file underneath and he picked it up and handed it to Brian. The man tried to take it off him, but Justin hung on to it; refusing to let it go and in the end Brian conceded; smiled and bent down to kiss him.

“I didn’t mean to yell …” he said quietly, by way of apology. “Do you need a ride?” he asked him, but Justin shook his head. “No … I’m not going into the agency today … I have to go into school”.

“That’s okay,” said Brian, “I can take you there,” and with a little more silence than usual, Brian delivered Justin to class.

Over the next few days, Brian suddenly realised that not quite as many of Justin’s possessions were left lying around the loft any more. Justin would come back when Brian wasn’t around and gather up a few things and start to take them back to Debbie’s. 

Maybe he was moving a little too fast; after all, Brian hadn’t exactly ever mentioned that he wanted them to live together permanently and then Justin had actually said that he wasn’t going to be spending the night at the loft; that he had too much school work to catch up on as well as a shift at the diner.

That was the night Brian went back home and realised he hated how quiet it was. No loud music; no mess and no Justin. Christ: he wished he knew what he really did want.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So how come so much of your stuff has found its way back at my place?” asked Debbie; now at her wits end. What the hell was Brian playing at? This young man was probably the best thing that ever happened to him and he was still threatening to fuck things up.

Justin placed the coffee pot back on the hot plate and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s probably me Debs … I guess I’m trying to push things a little too fast … I just need to back off a little, that’s all”.

“And here’s me thinking I was going to have to look for someone else to rent your room …” 

Justin shot a look at her. “Brian never asked me to move in …” he confessed. “I think I just sort of started to take things for granted …”

“Look,” said Debbie, quietly. “I know it’s none of my business … but has he said anything?” she asked. “Has he actually told you how he feels?” Brian’s lack of communication was legendary: as if you were supposed to know what he was thinking and Justin shook his head.

“No … but I guess he doesn’t really have to … I mean … look at everything he’s done for me … that should tell me all I need to know”. 

“Sure,” thought Debbie. “Mr. Practicality – why say I love you, when all you need to do is buy the kid a computer, set up an internship or call his Mother”.

They say actions speak louder than words, but Debbie could see by the expression on Justin’s face that despite all that Brian had done, hearing Brian say how he really felt out loud would mean so much to the young man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since moving most of his stuff back to Debbie’s, Brian and Justin’s relationship had seemed to cool a little. They still went out dancing and the sex was still hot, but Justin didn’t spend quite as much time at the loft as he had done and they didn’t seem to talk as much as they had. But as Justin had said to Debbie, he was scared he was pushing Brian just a little too fast too soon.

For Brian, it was echoes of Mark, who had wanted him to go to this function or that dinner and memories of how that relationship turned out just wouldn’t go away.

But when he found Justin’s keys on the counter after the young man had already left one morning and the invitation to the fundraising event at the GLC arrived addressed to Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor: not Brian Kinney or even Brian Kinney and guest, he stared down at the envelope, realising just how good that looked. 

“Asshole …” he muttered under his breath and he put the keys and the invitation into his attaché case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another school day for Justin and Brian didn’t like to disturb him by ringing his cell; that and he wasn’t sure what to say to him. Had he left his keys at the loft deliberately or unintentionally? Was he trying to say he was backing out of their relationship? 

Brian sighed. Why couldn’t he let Justin know his feelings or do romantic gestures; like candle-lit dinners for two instead of dining at a restaurant or bringing Justin flowers or a gift that wasn’t in the least bit practical?

Why was it so hard to say the words he felt in his heart: as if saying them out loud would make them disappear into thin air or to see if Justin would return them? But Justin was always telling him how much he cared; he gave his heart, his mind and his body. How much more confirmation did Brian want?

He knew his doubts were unfounded; from the first time in the loft that Justin had said he loved Brian; deep down Brian knew those words to be true and yet he still couldn’t respond, even though it was obvious that Justin longed to hear them so much. Was he going to risk losing him for the sake of three little words? Was he really that much of a fool?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian caught up with Justin later that day at the diner, where he pulled out the invitation to the GLC fundraiser. “Are we going to this?” Brian asked as he handed it to Justin and the younger man glanced at the envelope. There’d been no comment from Brian as to how the invitation had been addressed; was he starting to feel more comfortable about their relationship after all? Justin wished he knew for sure.

“It’s for a good cause …” commented Justin; deciding to ignore it himself and Brian had nodded in agreement and nothing more was said.

Waiting for Justin to finish his shift, Brian ordered a coffee and moved into a booth and Debbie slid in beside him.

“What have I done this time?” asked Brian, studying Debbie’s expression and wondering if he was ever going to get too old for one of her lectures.

“I was just wondering whether I’m going to be able to rent out Justin’s room,” said Debbie: repeating her words of earlier and low enough so that Justin couldn’t hear.

“That’s none of your business,” snapped Brian. “Maybe not,” answered Debbie. “But it’s sure as hell’s Justin’s” and able to say things to Brian that he would never tolerate from anyone else, she continued.

“But why doesn’t it surprise me one bit that that kid doesn’t really know where he stands with you? One minute most of his stuff is over at your place and then it’s back at mine. What the hell are you playing at Brian? It’s as plain as day how much Justin loves you … you only have to look at him to see that … and come to that … anyone only has to look at you to see how much you care for him … but no … the old Brian Kinney’s back … scared shit of anyone getting too close”.

“I thought at least you’d got over that when Mark came along … didn’t his death teach you anything?”

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Brian: his annoyance at Debbie’s directness and her reference to Mark difficult to hide.

Taking a deep breath, Debbie started up again. “Well I would have hoped that if nothing else it would have taught you how little time we have … that none of us know how long we’ve actually got … that an accident … or … or getting sick can happen to anyone at any time.”

“Just think … if anything happened to you, Justin might never hear you say how much you love him … are you willing to take that risk?”

Unable to answer her, Brian looked away and then searched out Justin. He watched as the young man delivered the ordered meals: smiling widely at a shared joke with the customer.

Justin had once spoken of taking a risk and so now had Debbie. And she was right; fate can play cruel tricks. A truck out of control; an act of hatred or terrorism; a fatal illness or an isolated patch of ice: Here today: gone tomorrow. 

Maybe now was the time to take that risk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“James just called,” said Justin, the following morning, as Brian stepped out of the shower.

“Everything’s set for tomorrow, so I guess I’ll be leaving this afternoon … I just have to go back to Debbie’s and pack some clean clothes …” 

Brian nodded as he began to dress. “I’ll drop you over there …”

“No, it’s okay,” insisted Justin. “I’ll get a taxi”.

“Well … then can I take you to the airport?” asked Brian, but Justin again refused. “No it’s okay … I know how busy you are …” 

True: since becoming partner, every damn thing that had gone wrong seemed to end up at Brian’s door in order to get fixed.

“Besides … I’ll only be away for a few days … you won’t even know I’m gone …” continued Justin.

“That’s okay,” said Brian, looking at him and smiling. “Take as much time as you need” and he carried on dressing.

Silently, Justin turned around; collected his coat and left; “Take as much time as you need?” Brian sounded like a boss giving Justin time off; not a lover saying how much he was going to miss him for the few days he’d be away.

The arrangements for the show in New York had been in place a few weeks now. The gallery were paying for his airfare and he was due to fly out to help James, who was already there, and overseeing the hanging of Justin’s work.

Brian watched Justin leave and regretted that they hadn’t even kissed goodbye and realised that very soon, he would have to at least give the young man an indication of how much he felt, before Justin was walking out of the loft for good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flight to New York was uneventful and as soon as he stepped off the plane there was a message from James to go straight to the gallery before booking into his hotel; there was something he wanted Justin’s opinion on.

It was getting late and with everything now in order, Justin was at last able to head for his hotel; James staying behind saying there was some paperwork he still had to catch up with. 

The address James had given him was on Fifth Avenue and Justin thought it must surely be a mistake; the gallery couldn’t run to this sort of accommodation. But when he checked in, there was his reservation and a porter who looked distinctly aggrieved when Justin said he didn’t need anyone to carry his holdall; the man’s look of disappointment changing Justin’s mind and they both headed up to the designated floor in the elevator.

The porter opened the door to Justin’s suite and then moved to the bedroom where he placed the holdall on the floor. “This has to be a mistake …” but the porter had left: ignoring Justin’s protestations.

The lights were on low and the table was laid for dinner for two with a big display of red roses as a centrepiece. Justin frowned and scratched his head and wondering what the hell was going on when there was a knock.

“Room Service” announced the voice from out in the corridor and Justin opened the door. 

“I haven’t ordered …” and the look of shock on his face brought the hugest of grins from the man holding two glasses and the ice bucket containing a bottle of Champagne.

“BRIAN!”

Brian stepped aside to allow the waiter to wheel in the cart carrying their dinner.

“I hope you don’t mind … I ordered for you …” and the cart was left beside the table; laden with smoked salmon, caviar and strawberries and as the waiter left, Brian put the Champagne and glasses down; intent on opening the bottle.

“What are doing here?” asked Justin, still shocked at Brian’s presence. 

“An art show in New York is a big deal … I thought you might like some company,” came the reply and then suddenly, Brian stopped what he was doing and wondered if he’d made a huge mistake. Maybe Justin didn’t want him there to share this; that maybe Justin would have preferred it if he’d stayed back in Pittsburgh so that he could experience the show on his own.

Seeing the hesitation and sensing the sudden doubt that had entered Brian’s head, Justin moved forward and took the bottle of Champagne from his hands before Brian had a chance to open it. Reaching up to kiss him, Justin completely chased away all Brian’s doubts. 

He knew what this gesture was really costing the older man; opening himself up like this. Brian was allowing Justin to see that he was willing to do something so ridiculously romantic as follow him to New York, book them into one of the most expensive hotel suites in that city and share the show with him.

He wasn’t about to turn the man down.

Very little food was consumed that evening. However the Champagne and strawberries were devoured in the bedroom; the hunger for these two food items matching their hunger for each other.

As in Pittsburgh, the New York show was a huge success; Justin had made his mark and the fact that he had still to graduate, underlying what a huge achievement it actually was.

To have Brian there and share it with him made it an even more wonderful experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived back at the loft late: extremely happy and still too high on the events of the previous few days to even think about sleep.

From the two shows, Justin had undoubtedly sold all his work and had been offered commissions for others. He would certainly have enough funds to finish PIFA, but if not, Brian was determined to make up any shortfall.

The strides Justin had made since the bashing was unbelievable; he was hardly recognisable as the young man who’d been drifting through life with no drive or ambition not so many months ago.

But Justin wasn’t the only one unrecognisable.

“Here,” said Brian, tossing Justin the keys. “You must have forgotten these …”

Slightly surprised, Justin caught the keys to the loft and put them in his pocket. “Thanks” he replied and, for a moment, unsure of how he was supposed to react.

He’d noticed that Brian had been a little quiet on the way back from the airport, but had decided the older man, after all, was probably just a little tired; now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he’d been deliberating over something and so Justin decided to wait for Brian to come to him and to play things cool.

“I’m famished,” exclaimed the blond and he started to search in the refrigerator, but found nothing that didn’t look like it shouldn’t be thrown in the trash.

“We can order something,” replied Brian. “ … or if you can hold out … we can go out for breakfast in the morning … before we go over to Deb’s to pick up your stuff …”

Justin turned around to face him, but Brian was now walking away and heading for the side-table, where he picked up the bottle of beam. He didn’t really need a drink, but somehow he didn’t want to be looking at Justin when the younger man realised what he was saying.

“Are you asking me to move in?” asked Justin quietly: his heartbeat quickening as he waited for Brian’s reply.

Brian briefly closed his eyes and drew on every ounce of courage he possessed. It had to be now or never if he was ever going to tell Justin how he felt and he poured out his drink and picked up the glass and, slowly, he turned to face him.

“Well, I kind of like having you around … so … yes … I guess I am … asking you to move in … I mean”.

The look in Brian’s eyes as he waited for Justin’s response, melted the young man’s heart. Just looking at the body language told Justin that Brian wasn’t the confident and together person he liked to portray on the surface. That underneath he was scared that even now, Justin would turn him down: throw his feelings back in his face and break his heart.

But there was no way Justin could walk out on him: this at least was part of what he was hoping from Brian; maybe the rest wouldn’t be too long to wait for after all.

Without a word, the young man crossed the floor and took the untouched drink from Brian’s hand and placed it back on the table.

Brian was now looking at the floor; until that is that Justin reached up and put his arms around Brian’s neck; drawing the man down so that their faces were only inches apart.

“Of course I’ll move in,” answered the younger man and with obvious relief, Brian drew him even closer and they kissed and then Justin pulled away and looked into Brian’s eyes; seeking the words he so desperately wanted to hear.

The older man swallowed: seeing the love for him shining from Justin’s beautiful blue eyes. The love he could now feel totally secure in; the love that would never let him down; that would never lie to him or deceive him. 

The love that at last gave him the courage he needed.

“I love you,” whispered Brian; giving Justin the confirmation that he’d been yearning for; the confirmation that made those blue eyes glisten with tears that threatened to spill over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was it fate or co-incidence?

Good fortune or destiny; that had brought Brian and Justin together?

They had both been involved with the same man; a man they thought they were both in love with and who loved them, but who had let them both down dreadfully. But without Mark, they might never have met. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I wish we could stay like this forever …” whispered Justin, as he lay in Brian’s arms and Brian lent down and kissed him.

This was one partnership that Brian didn’t have to celebrate on his own and they’d consummated their union over and over again, until both their bodies ached and glistened with the exhilaration.

Justin was everything Brian could have wanted and needed. He wasn’t just a lover; he was his partner; his soul mate, with more love to give than Brian could ever have imagined. The only thing Brian wished now was that he’d recognised this earlier. He had a lot of time to make up for.

For the first time since the start of their relationship, Justin knew that Brian was opening up to him and that process would continue slowly and surely until he could give of himself completely; without question and with a love that consumed him totally.

Now together as one: theirs was a love that would last forever.


The End

Feb. 14th 2005