Somehow when this story was transferred from Midnight Whisper's original site it was damaged. Huge chunks of story disappeared into the vast wasteland of cyberspace. Luckily for me several kind and generous readers sent me the downloads that they had saved. I appreciate everyone who took the time to alert me to the issues and the those that cared enough about my work to keep it so that I was able to fix this mess. If you find any issues during the reading please let me know. Chapter 1 Justin stared out in the distance as a cool breeze brought to him the smells of Paris. His gaze lingered over the Eiffel Tower, but it had long since lost its allure. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do. He’d never looked past what was happening to him to see beyond the moment. He’d been someone lost in the trenches never managing to lift his head long enough to see what lay on the horizon. His life for the last few months had been an almost constant conveyor of distributing meds, cleaning up vomit or other bodily excrement. He’d poured glass after glass of water, bowl after bowl of broth knowing the whole time that it was all an effort of comfort not healing. Andrew would never be well and yet somehow he’d never accepted that this moment would come and that when it did, he would be forced to face it alone. He stubbed out his cigarette and continued to stare out the window of the shabby little apartment. He focused on the sounds from the street below as two drunks tried to persuade a hooker to give them a two for one. He wasn’t enjoying the banter. In fact he found it profoundly ridiculous but it was far better than what lay behind him. It was the body of his lover, cool and growing colder by the moment. The life that Justin had fallen so desperately for was gone now. It was only a body. It no longer resembled the one he had first held or touched. It was shrunken and weak, wasted away to nothingness. Justin pulled his own jeans up as they slid lower on his hips, realizing he too had lost quite a bit of weight over the last few hard months. He was thankful that his loss was from exertion, fatigue and lack of food. All their money had gone to pain meds in the end. No longer seeking out the black market for radical last hope chances, Justin had found himself meeting strangers on street corners in order to buy Andy some relief and a respite for himself as well. He could still hear Andy’s soft sobs. They had filled the apartment night after night. At first they had held the ache of regret, later it was the desperation of fear and finally the longing for release. Justin sniffed and fought against the sorrow that seemed to be waiting at his side. He refused to give into it until he had seen this thing through to the bitter end. He owed it to Andy. Making his way out of the apartment to the pay phone in the hall, he used his last few euros to place the calls. The first was to the police asking for directions in fairly fluent French as to how to attend to his friend now that he was dead. After receiving those instructions he placed another call. His mother’s voice on the other end of the line was his undoing. He felt his grip slipping away and as desperately as he tried to hold his composure, it crumpled under the weight of long hours and endless suffering, under endless days of longing for comfort and compassion. “Justin?” Jennifer called softly in concern. She had been out to see Justin and Andy only weeks before when Justin had finally confirmed her suspicious about their situation. She had hardly recognized Justin when he’d picked her up at the airport. Her heart had broken as he continued to cling to her in the terminal while people passed by oblivious to the tragedy playing out before their eyes. Justin had been thin, too thin, haggard and totally exhausted. She’d held him until he had finally let go. He’d looked away in embarrassment. She had reassured him that things would be alright. It wasn’t until she actually saw Andy that she realized the depth of her deceit. “It’s done.” Justin choked out still struggling against his grief. “I’m coming for you.” She whispered hearing her son’s heart felt sobs on the other end of the line. He was too far away. She cursed herself for not returning again. He shouldn’t be facing this alone. It wasn’t fair but so few things had been fair for Justin over the last few years. “No, no.” Justin cleared his throat and pulled himself together. Always her good little solider, Jennifer pressed her own lips together to stifle her own sorrow. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. As soon as things are settled here I plan to come home.” He assured her. “I just need to sell a few things.” “Let me send you the money.” She offered knowing the real reason for Justin’s sudden interest in liquidating. He paused and she knew how difficult it was for him to accept it. She worried about how bad things were if he actually did. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back.” He offered, his voice once more thick with emotion. Jennifer sighed having her worst fears confirmed. So her son was dealing with the worse moment of his life, had no money, and no way to get home without her help. Before she could offer once more to fly out to get him, there was a commotion on the other end of the line. “Justin, are you okay?” She asked at the sound of the voices. “Yes, they’ve come to collect Andy. I have to go.” He hung up. Jennifer hung up the receiver. Sitting on the edge of her bed she held her face in her hands and wept for the boy who was lost and also the one who was coming home. ********************************* “You can’t be serious.” Michael spat nearly choking on his milk. “Don’t I sound serious?” Brian replied tongue in cheek. “Moving in together? You and Paul are moving in together.” Michael repeated the words. “Yes, it’s not like I haven’t had others who have lived with me in the loft.” Brian dismissed. Michael thought of the last two and how disastrous those relationships had ended. The only man who had ever lived with Brian and both men been happy had been Justin but that had been years ago. “Kevin and Daniel.” Michael stated refusing to look up from his breakfast. “Kevin was a klepto and Daniel was an asshole.” Brian sipped his coffee preemptively ending the argument before it even started. “I thought you liked assholes.” Ted offered. “I like people with assholes, not people who are assholes.” Brian replied sarcastically. “You need to learn to love yourself.” Emmett half teased. “Embrace the asshole from within” Brian rolled his eyes. “Well, he’s over all the time anyway.” Brian excused ignoring Emmett’s jab. “No sense paying two rents.” He was trying to convince himself as much as his friends. He had a feeling that Paul’s moving in was a mistake, but staring at forty made Brian somehow need some sort of stability. Paul was stable just like--. Brian stopped himself; he never went there anymore, never allowed himself to think about what had once been and what might have happened had he handled things a little differently. “Sounds like Paul talking.” Ted observed. Michael and he exchanged a look. They’d both been around Brian long enough to know when he wasn’t sure of what he was doing. “It’s me talking. Remember me? Your boss?” Brian asserted. “Message received.” Ted threw up his hands in surrender. “Besides it’s none of your fucking business. I’m not asking for your opinions. You wanted to know why I couldn’t come out tonight and I told you.” “What’s that?” Deb asked. Brian rolled his eyes as he stood and threw a few dollars on the table. “I’ll let them fill you in.” He replied as he tightened his coat and headed out of the Diner. “What?” Deb asked taking his place at the table. “Can I get my eggs?” The man in the booth behind her asked. She shooed him away with one hand and continued to stare at her son waiting for him to spill. “Brian asked Paul to move in with him.” Deb smirked. “That has disaster written all over it.” She stood once more and watched as Brian waited to cross the street. She loved him like a son and had watched him search for what he had lost four years back. He’d tried to find replacements but it was obvious to her that Brian Kinney had never gotten over Justin. He’d let the younger man walk away. She’d never known the details of their parting and as far she knew no one else had ever understood it either, but Justin had left and in his wake Brian had fallen back into his pre-Justin pattern of partying. He’d even drug Michael into it, but then Ben had gotten sick and Michael chose to help his partner, leaving his best friend to fend for himself. That was when Kevin had come onto the scene. He and Brian had lasted a few months. The relationship had been tenuous at best. Both men were far too set in their ways to compromise with one another. Kevin wanted Brian home and Brian wanted Kevin in the clubs. With one final dramatic showdown Kevin had moved out and Brian had returned to the clubs full time. A new drug had given Ben a second chance and Michael tried to spend time with Brian. He had even suggested that Brian call Justin, go see him in Paris, but Brian had refused. Michael knew that the two men never spoke. Michael and Justin had stayed in touch the first year after he’d left, then the comic had been discontinued and they spoke very little until finally not at all. Michael had mentioned Brian once but Justin had made it clear that he didn’t want to know. Michael had met with the same response from Brian whenever he mentioned the blond. Debbie had tried to get Brian to talk but that too had been a disaster. It was somewhere near the end of the second year when Daniel had come along. He’d been younger than Kevin but not as young as Justin. Like Kevin, he was dark haired and eyed. Brian never went for blonds, not anymore. Michael had mentioned once that Justin had been the only blond he’d ever seen Brian with in all the years they’d gone out to clubs together. Brian had never commented on that fact except to say that everyone makes one mistake. Kevin was in banking. He knew nice things and liked nice things. He and Brian spent a lot of time shopping and even more money than time. They were an attractive couple but things always seemed more business than pleasure. It was as if they enjoyed the sex and the shopping but had very little to do with each other outside of those two activities. One day Brian had announced that Kevin was moving out. He’d seemed nonplused. In fact he’d shown no emotion at all concerning the man who suddenly just disappeared from his life. It was so different from his reaction when Justin had left. The next year Paul came onto the scene. He was the most disposable of all the other men that Brian had tried to have a relationship with since Justin’s exit. Well at least that was how the rest of the family categorized him. Paul was older than Brian, something that surprised everyone in the family. He was rich and successful. He’d also been in a long term relationship before. He’s partner had died of AIDS ten years earlier. Brian seemed happy, no, that wasn’t quite right, Brian seemed content with Paul. It was as if after all his running around Brian had finally taken off his tight black jeans and wife beater and replaced them with a comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Paul and he made a striking couple but they seldom went out. When they did manage to grace the family dinners Paul usually managed to insult everyone in some way before they left. Whether it was an offhanded remark about the meal or the way Gus’ ears stuck out, everyone was always more than ready for Paul to leave. If truth be told, they all realized Paul and Brian were a package deal, the only way to have time with Brian was to put up with Paul, so that’s what they did. They tolerated him. “You think they’re really serious?” Emmett asked his concern evident. “How can Brian stand to be with that asshole?” Deb asked shaking her head. “I guess it’s better than being alone.” Michael defended his best friend. “Well if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.” Emmett replied meeting Michael’s gaze. Michael knew who Emmett was referring to. He had debated calling Justin several times since Brian’s change in demeanor but he’d always feared what the blond might say. What if he was going on with his life? What if he was married himself? He’d heard about a young man through his mother. Jennifer had even had a picture one day when she was at the house. It was of Justin and another blond, Andrew or Andre, Michael couldn’t remember exactly. Maybe Justin and Andre were still together. “Shit, you don’t think they’d get married do you?” Ted asked sounding almost panicked. “Paul comes by the office enough as it is. What if he was the spouse?” He threw down his toast at the idea of it. “Relax baby, they’re only moving in together.” Emmett tried to comfort his friend. “Yeah, it won’t last.” Michael replied with less confidence than he’d meant to. “Let’s hope not.” Emmett sighed the three men finished their breakfast in silence. ***************************** “Honey, you look exhausted.” Jennifer reached out and pulled Justin into her arms. She was surprised by the slight resistance she felt. She pulled away and stared at him. “You aren’t sick are you?” She asked realizing that the terminal was neither the time nor the place for this conversation. Her concern overriding her judgment, she waited for his reply. “No.” Justin’s voice was small. “Last month was my all clear.” Jennifer sighed with relief as tears filled her eyes. “You look terrible.” She stated bluntly. “How much do you weigh? I told you that you had to find time to take care of yourself.” She knew she was nagging but the sight of Justin made her both sad and furious. “I’ve been a little busy.” Justin mumbled his tone warning her not to push. “Let’s get my bag and get out of here.” He felt uncomfortable. He knew he looked like shit. He hadn’t slept in days. He’d spent the last three days struggling to sell everything that he had left in the world to help finish paying for Andy’s burial. There had been a small service. Andy’s parents had refused to come. They’d never approved of their son’s lifestyle or of his American lover. Andy’s sister had come though and she and Justin had held hands during the service. It had been as though they were drawing strength from the other. She’d offered to take him to dinner afterwards. She accepted his decline a bit too quickly and it was then that Justin realized that she was afraid. Juliann was afraid that he too was infected and dying. Justin had left her wondering. She’d never bothered to come by and help with Andy all those months. She didn’t deserve to know any details. She’d hinted a bit hoping to know of any last words, but he’d refused to give anything away. He knew in time he’d wish that he’d been more gracious, but for now he was bitter and barely surviving. He didn’t have the energy to care about anyone else’s feelings in the matter. Juliann had sent food occasionally and even a little cash now and then but she’d never come and given Justin even a moments rest or Andy any chance of closure. Fuck her, and the rest of Andy’s no good family. “It’s that one.” He pointed and moved to grab the small bag from the carousel. “It’s so small. Is that all you have?” Jennifer asked her brow furrowed and concern evident. Justin grimaced at her disapproval but nodded. He followed her out to the parking garage. He tried to follow her bright voice rambling nervously on about Molly and real estate and old friends whose names seemed like characters from a book instead of from the pages of his own life. Once in the car he leaned his head against the cool window and shut his eyes. His mother turned on the radio. WASP’s never did seem to enjoy undisturbed silence. As he listened to the sound of the road beneath the tires he felt himself floating away. He let himself go for the first time. He knew he was safe. Safe from screams in the middle of the night, black marketers wanting more than just money, bill collectors and their constant harassment, and the guilt that only a survivor understands. He floated away to the sound of his mother’s voice. Nothing had ever sounded so good. He was asleep before the car cleared the airport. ********************************** Two months of living together had only solidified Paul’s certainty that he and Brian belonged together. He’d been forced to do a little redecorating but all in all was very proud of the way he’d settled into the loft. He’d given up his house for a much smaller living space, but Brian had been immovable on the point. As Paul wandered back up to the bedroom he glanced at the clock. Brian would be home soon. Paul wondered if he should order their dinner or cook. Brian seemed to like it when he cooked, but Paul didn’t really enjoy it. It was always such a mess and nothing ever seemed to turn out exactly as he hoped. As he sat on the edge of the bed the phone rang. In his hurry to catch it, he managed to knock it back behind the bed. Cursing loudly he struggled to pull the bed back from the wall. He made a mental note to chew the maid a new asshole for all the filth and dust he found. Coughing from the dust he reached down and grabbed the receiver. His finger brushed something else. He struggled to bring it up as well. He was surprised to find it was a sketch book. Unlike the floor or furniture it was clean, and dust free. Paul raised an eyebrow as he considered the object in his hand. The call that he’d missed was long forgotten as he turned the first page. It was a portrait of Brian. It was very good. Whoever had drawn it had a real passion for his subject. Paul chuckled wondering what trick had taken the time to capture Brian before the brunet had kicked him to the curb. Paul was well aware of Brian’s past and his legendary reputation. He knew he had at one time been ‘King of Liberty Avenue’. He’d fucked his way through the vast majority of worthwhile men. Only once, that was the rule, only one night with the master, a taste of the sublime before returning to mediocrity for the rest of their existence. It was a cruel and bitter reality and one that Paul hoped he would never have to survive. Paul found himself intrigued as he continued to turn the pages. There were several renderings of Brian. It was odd because although the first few were nudes the fourth was of the man sitting on the couch. The fifth portrait was of Brian and a baby who looked like a younger version of Gus. Paul felt his heart rate quickening as he continued to find sketch after sketch. None were signed and yet it was obvious that they had all been created by the same artist. Who had managed to have this kind of access to the elusive Brian Kinney? The sound of the loft door closing caused him to jump. “Paul!” Brian called. He laid the sacks of take out on the kitchen counter as he continued on into the bedroom. He froze at the top of the steps as he noticed the object in Paul’s hands. “Looks like you were quite the inspiration.” Paul offered his tone revealing both his curiosity and thinly veiled jealousy. “Who’s the artist?” Brian hesitated in his first step then moved forward with renewed confidence as he took the sketch book from the other man and glanced down at it for a moment. “Where did you find this?” Brian asked his eyes boring into the other man. “Behind the bed. It’s filthy back there by the way.” Paul continued looking up at the man, feeling the tension build as Brian continued to stare at the pad. Paul suddenly felt as though he had touched something sacred. The thought troubled him as he struggled not to apologize. Without another word, Brian moved to the dresser. For a brief moment Paul thought he was going to drop the book into the trash can, but then at the last minute he was surprised to see that Brian carefully laid it in the top drawer of the dresser instead. “Dinner’s in the kitchen.” Brian spoke without turning around and headed into the bathroom. Paul watched him go. There was something disturbing about Brian’s reaction. Paul followed him into the bathroom where he found Brian leaning on the bathroom counter staring vacantly into the sink. “Who was the artist?” He asked leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed defensively across his chest. “You don’t know him.” Brian spoke his voice barely audible. “He’s very talented. Was he a friend of yours?” He asked trying not to sound like a jealous wife. He knew how Brian would react to that tactic. “Justin.” Brian stated the name softly then began filling the sink with water. He splashed some on his face as Paul considered the name. “Justin?” Paul repeated in confusion. He’d heard the name but never in connection to Brian. Paul quickly ran through the tidbits of information he’d collected about the man over his time with Brian. Justin had been a young man who had lived with Debbie Novotny for a while. He’d had some sort of head injury but managed to create a comic with Michael. He’d babysat for Gus. He seemed more like another of Debbie’s adopted kids. Had he been Brian’s lover as well? Paul thought of the nude sketches and felt his throat tighten at the possibility of it. He’d always heard the name spoken with such affection but never in Brian’s presence and not once had Brian ever mentioned that name. Was it the same Justin? “The kid who lived with Debbie a few years back?” Paul pressed. Brian merely nodded as he dried his face then moved back into the bedroom removing his tie as he did so. He didn’t meet Paul’s gaze which deepened the older man’s concern. “Was he your lover?” Paul asked refusing to let Brian go any further before getting the answer. Brian looked up with equal defiance but then sighed with defeat. “He was my partner.” Brian moved past Paul who seemed too stunned to speak. He slipped out of his shirt and pants tossing them in the dry cleaning hamper in the closet. “Your what?” Paul reeled to face him but Brian was in front of the closet undressing. “My Paarrrtner.” Brian drew it out as if Paul were an idiot. “Don’t be a smart ass Brian.” Paul spat. “We both know this was something you should have told me before.” He crossed his arms and glared at the man’s back. Brian laughed softly as he moved to the bed and removed his socks giving them a toss into a separate hamper. He reached for his jeans and slipped into them leaving the top button unfastened. “Why Paul? Why is it any of your business?” Brian’s voice sounded far more serious than his posture revealed. “You told me…” “I told you that I lived with Kevin and I lived with Daniel. I told you a long time ago I use to fuck a lot of men. So what’s the big fucking deal that I omitted one of the many men I use to fuck?” Brian jaw was set signally Paul that he was heading into dangerous waters. “Because you loved him.” Paul replied. “I never loved him.” Brian defended but the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. “How long?” Paul asked letting Brian’s lie hang heavy in the air. “We were together off and on for five years.” Brian replied wearily. “Then it ended.” “What ended it?” Paul asked moving to sit by Brian who was now on the edge of the bed putting on his wife beater. “I said something stupid.” Brian finished dressing and leaned down over his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. “What did you say?” Paul asked more out of curiosity than anything as he moved to sit next to his lover. “Nothing.” Brian smirked bitterly. “Nothing?” Paul repeated in confusion. “Yeah, nothing.” Brian stood and moved out of the bedroom. He padded barefooted into the kitchen and began removing cartons from the sacks. Paul followed knowing that the subject was dropped for the night. Later though, long after they’d shared one another’s body and Paul had drifted off to sleep, Brian rose from their bed retrieving the sketch pad from the dresser. He grabbed the JB and a glass as he continued on into the living area. There he took a chair near the windows and stared out at the lights of Pittsburgh. He held the pad until near dawn never once opening it, just holding it and thinking of moments he’d lost and would never have again.