“Limitless, undying love, Which shines around me like a million suns. It calls me on and on across the universe.” --John Lennon ~~~ Two Weeks Later Justin’s POV “You’re kidding, right?” Daphne was looking at me as if I’d just told her my life’s ambition was to become a unicorn. “You couldn’t buy Disneyland for that amount of money!” “I know,” I agreed, trying rather unsuccessfully to scoop the remaining foam of my caramel latte from the bottom of the cup with a stir stick. “But if I don’t go the private route, I could be waiting years to have this operation done. And apart from the likelihood of the cancer spreading in that time, I would shrivel up and die of Brian-fuck deficiency.” “I’m glad you’re able to identify your life essentials,” Daphne remarked, “Food, water and Brian-fucks. Well, in favour of you not shrivelling up and dying, I’m glad you’re having it done at the end of the month. Here, do you want the rest of this?” With her fork, she was indicating the remains of her half eaten triple-fudge chocolate almond square. Not waiting for my reply, which was evident anyway from my look of obvious delight, she pushed the plate across the small round table to me. When I complained that the chocolate almond ‘square’ was now more of a shapeless polygon, she threw the fork at me and told me not to dishonour the good name of chocolate by associating it with trigonometry. Inwardly, I apologised sincerely to the dessert. With the enforced ‘Brian-fuck embargo’, chocolate was becoming a fast friend, particularly when it was associated with Brian’s body in some way. Although Brian refused point blank to fuck me until things were sorted out, he had been remarkably innovative at coming up with alternatives to the taboo activity. If anyone were to ask about the chocolate syrup and whipped cream in Brian’s fridge, we’d just say they were ‘leftovers from the make-your-own sundae night at the G.L.C.’ “Why didn’t you just go for the radiotherapy?” Daphne asked, watching as I devoured the little piece of heaven, “You’d have saved yourself an arm, a leg and a first born child.” “But there’d be a 25% chance of it coming back…I just could deal with that. Not again.” I tried to sound as sombre as I felt, which was proving difficult with my mouth full of gooey goodness. “The cancer hasn’t spread yet, and I’d be stupid to pass up the chance to get rid of it for good. And, bonus, this doctor can do it and preserve my fuckability.” I looked down sadly at the now empty dessert plate. Did I seriously just eat that whole thing in under 30 seconds? God, I must be getting desperate. “So, if this surgeon who’s going to save your sex life is in such high demand, why is he in Miami?” Daphne asked, watching me lick the last streaks of chocolate from the fork. “Why not somewhere a little more obvious, like New York or L.A.?” “‘Cuz the afflicted men this guy caters to are filthy rich, usually over 60, and have retired to Florida to buy huge-ass beach houses to fit their seven cars into. Brian says he’s a smart business man…he followed the flock, and their money.” “Let me get this straight,” Daphne countered, looking incredulous. “In addition to shelling out a formidable fortune to have this special operation done, you have to fly to Florida and back as well?” “Yeah,” I replied, picking chocolate crumbs off the empty plate with my fingers. “And then I have to pay a huge sum of cash to stay in this luxury clinic while I’m recovering. Fuck, sometimes I wish I were a communist.” “Justin.” Daphne’s look of incredulity faded and was replaced by one of open concern. “How are you going to pay for this? You can’t, unless you’ve inherited a diamond mine I haven’t heard about. Your Mom can’t, and even if your father agreed to contribute, there still wouldn’t be enough.” I was positive she knew where the money would come from, but she’d been courteous enough not to assume too much. Daphne just knew me too well. If I didn’t want to tell her, she wouldn’t ask, and if I did, she’d already know. “Brian offered to pay for it…and I accepted.” I told her, feeling ashamed by the submissiveness of it. “I don’t have a choice now. I just don’t have that kind of money, and time is too short to try and acquire it. As far as the cancer is concerned, the clock is ticking.” “I guess.” Daphne agreed. She looked closely at me and then asked, “What’s the real reason you let Brian pay for it?” Fuck, she was good. “Alright, fine…he didn’t really offer. He arranged the whole thing, and paid for everything in advance before he said anything to me. When he did spill, I asked him why the fuck he’d done it, and he said it never occurred to him not to.” “You know,” Daphne remarked gently, smiling at me, “I think I may love Brian almost as much as you do. But…Justin, I didn’t think even Brian had that kind of money. Where’s he gonna get it?” Good question. I would certainly not put it past Brian to put himself hundreds of thousands of dollars in dept for me. His heart was just too fucking huge where I was concerned. But what could I do? I didn’t want to die of cancer…I had no choice. Besides, Brian hadn’t given me one…Thank God. I wished I had more chocolate. ~~~ If I hadn’t missed the #46 bus after leaving the Starbucks and saying good-bye to Daphne, I don’t think I’d have ever discovered the truth. I wouldn’t have had to walk through the nightclub district of Liberty Avenue, now fairly deserted in the watery grey daylight, to reach the place in which I could catch another bus. I always wondered afterwards if it were fate that made me walk past that alleyway entrance, underneath that elongate neon sign bearing the name of that ancient Mesopotamian city, through whose doors I had past so many, many times in my life. I saw the official sign pinned to the door, wilting slightly with the damp as the rain poured on and through eaves overhead. The rain was freezing, and as I stood, rooted to the spot, it fell through my hair and into my eyes, caressing my face with tricking fingers of ice. I felt sick. Not with disgust or humility, but with an emotion so strong it refused to be contained within me. I sat down on the steps leading up to that door and held my head in my hands, trying to comprehend and accept it all. But all I could think of was him. Him, and his limitless, undying love. A love that always seemed to call me on. ~~~ That night Brian’s POV I thought it would really upset me, but when it came down to doing it, it wasn’t so bad. I was left with that feeling you get when you step over the threshold of your home the day you get back from a really spectacular holiday. It was a feeling of anti-climax, knowing that something you’ve really enjoyed has just slipped into the past forever. Despite all my original misgivings, Ted had arranged everything both quickly and efficiently. All I had to do was sign on the dotted line. The only time I felt a real stab of lamentation was when I read the line in the contract stating; “I, Brian Kinney, hereby release the property formerly known as ‘Babylon’ to…” Formerly know as Babylon. I tried to convince myself that Babylon had already sunk, that there was really nothing I could have done with the place. Like Emmett had said, the herd have moved on. I guess to most people, it had just been another queer nightclub full of tricks and queens, booze and poppers and hot, sweaty fags. But to me, Babylon had been a kingdom of which I’d been the Ruler, both before and after I’d owned it. And I’d just thrown down my crown, flung it into the glassy sea, and watched it drift slowly out of sight, glimmering as it sank down into the irretrievable depths. But I didn’t regret it. Not for a second. As some asshole had once told me, if you believe in something strongly enough- if you loved someone strongly enough- you had to be willing to sacrifice everything. And do so willingly. I would have sold my soul for Justin, so by comparison, I suppose having to sell Babylon to pay for the best medical care I could possibly get him…was a very small sacrifice. I was late when I got back to the loft that night, going on 1:30am. There had been piles and piles of fucking red tape that had to be sorted through. If Cynthia and Ted hadn’t stuck around to help out, I’d probably have been there until Christmas. The room was in darkness, the only light coming from the faint blue glow of the neon lights over the bed. I was surprised to note that Justin was not asleep on it, nor could I see him on the couch or futon. I felt panic start to seep into my veins like the ebb of a fiery tide. That night he had almost frozen himself to death in the shower had scared me shitless. It hadn’t been a suicide attempt- not really- but he had been thinking about it, he had been weighing it as an option. After he’d fallen asleep that night, I’d forced myself to search for and find that thin white scar just above his hairline, still quite vivid four years later. I wanted to remind myself again, as powerfully as I could, how unbearable it would be to lose him. I knew that night I’d let my guard down, I’d slipped up a fraction of an inch…and he had lost sight of me, he’d almost let go. I wouldn’t let that happen again. I couldn’t help thinking that subjecting himself to fifteen minutes of submergence in frigid water, to a point where he was barely lucid, was not such a far cry from self-mutilation. I had taken to daily examining his body while he slept, checking those areas of skin which his clothes covered, looking for cuts, bruises or burns that had no obvious explanation. I hadn’t found any, so perhaps I was being paranoid, but where Justin was concerned I wasn’t going to take the risk. Not yet anyway. I was about to call out Justin’s name, when he suddenly materialized out of thin air- not at my shoulder level as I’d expected, but from somewhere around my midriff. I found myself propelled backwards against the nearest pillar and simultaneously felt Justin’s fingers fumbling with the belt and fly of my Armani slacks. Before I could move or speak, he was on his knees, sliding the material roughly down my thighs as I felt his hot mouth close around my cock. I felt it suddenly, unexpectedly, entirely engulfed as he deep-throated me without any warning or foreplay. Holy shit. I was so absolutely unprepared for this that my knees almost buckled with the sudden explosion of fireworks and sensations. With one hand, I seized the pillar above my head to avoid falling over Justin and with the other, I grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged, trying to get him to slow down the frenzied movements of his head, lips, tongue and throat. Justin swatted my hand away from his hair almost fiercely and continued his turbulent administrations. Within a few seconds, all my rational thoughts had turned into mush and all I could do was moan and gasp and clutch at Justin’s hair and sweatshirt. I was absolutely no match for this sneak attack and in a matter of minutes, I was cumming hard down his throat and he was swallowing around me, taking in everything I could give him. “Jesus Fuck, Sunshine,” I gasped, when I finally found my voice. Unfortunately, my vocabulary didn’t come back with it and all I could manage was, “Holy…fuck…fuck…” Justin didn’t get off his knees, but tucked his head into the crook of my leg, drawing lazy concentric circles along the insides of my thighs with his finger tips. He had his eyes closed, the lashes fluttering against the sensitive skin of my groin. Looking down at him, I was struck suddenly by how delicate and childish he looked. My fingers were in his hair again, but they were tenderly caressing and stroking him this time. I felt myself trembling slightly from the aftershocks. Fuck, that had been hot…but what was it for? “Come up here.” I ordered when I’d sufficiently recovered my composure, reaching down and lifting him under the arms. He leaned into my chest and put his arms around my waist, squeezing tightly. I hugged him against me and messaged the sides of his neck soothingly, still not quite sure what was going on. He laid his head on my shoulder, his breath feeling hot and moist against my cheek and neck. “Thank you.” He whispered, a hair’s breath away from my ear. I felt him kiss my neck softly and then the hollow behind my ear. He slipped a hand under my shirt and stroked his fingers lightly up between my shoulder blades. “Thank you.” “Are you going to tell me what I’ve done to deserve such heartfelt gratitude?” I asked softly, blowing warm air against his neck and making him shiver. When he didn’t answer, I drew away and put my hands on his upper arms, looking intently into his face. The child-like illusion didn’t dissipate, and I couldn’t put my finger on which one of his features was making him look so young. He gave me a shy, gentle smile; not a bright or happy expression, but one of tenderness and submission. And it clicked. He knew I’d sold Babylon for him. “How’d you find out?” I asked, not bothering to make sure my assumption was correct. He shook his head and looked down at his fingers, slowly sliding the buttons of my shirt through their button holes. I thought of getting the answer out of him, but suddenly found I didn’t actually care. “Come to bed.” I whispered to him, stilling the movement of his fingers by wrapping them in my own. He looked up at me and I saw that is eyes were so full of appreciation and affection that I felt I needed to say something to acknowledge it. But ‘you’re welcome’ just wasn’t going to cut it this time. “I love you,” I told him softly. Now that I’d said it once, now that I’d broken down that seemingly impenetrable wall, I found those three words were a way of expressing the chapters, the novels, full of dialogue and feelings I’d thought and felt over the years, but had never had enough resolve to voice. He didn’t reply to it in words, but hugged me close again, pressing his face against my neck. Some things, I thought, were purer, were more beautiful and perfect when they were understood but left unspoken. I took him into the bedroom and he let me undress him. I prayed he wouldn’t notice me inspecting his skin for signs of self-harm. Irrational as it seemed, I was afraid that if Justin knew I was concerned about him damaging himself, he’d get the false impression that I thought him morally weak. And perhaps I was just fucking paranoid, so I resolved not to bring up the subject unless there was need. Fortunately, my surreptitious search once again yielded negative results, and propitiously, Justin hadn’t appeared to have noticed. He crawled onto the bed and sat in silence, wrapped in the duvet, as he watched me finish undressing. When I got onto the bed beside him, he didn’t immediately lie down with me, but remained sitting there, as if deep in thought. I reached out and touched his knee and he jumped and looked down at me. He looked deeply troubled. “I’ll make it up to you.” He resolved abruptly and determinately, “I’ll pay it all back.” “C’mere.” I instructed, sighing as I held out an arm to him. He lay down beside me on his back, and I shifted onto my side to look down at him, turning is face to mine with light fingers on the smooth line of his jaw. “You don’t owe me anything, Sunshine. Not anymore.” He looked confused, his brow furrowing slightly. I saw comprehension dawning in his eyes and he tried to shift onto his side to argue or deny the fact. “Brian, I…” I silenced him with a finger on his lips and gently pushed him onto his back again. He didn’t seem too happy to stay there, so I laid a firm hand on his sternum to let him know what I wanted. I leaned down to his ear and he stopped moving abruptly, waiting for me to continue. “Everything is ours now. What’s mine is yours.” I whispered to him softly, nuzzling at the side of his face gently. He made a small noise in the back of him throat, and I raised my head again to look down at him before continuing. “And what’s yours…” I placed a finger in the hollow where his collar bones met and traced the line down between his ribcage, over his belly and circled his navel before finally resting my hand softly against his groin. He whimpered and lifted his hips up against my hand. “…is mine.” “It’s yours.” He repeated softly, genuinely, laying one hand over mine and curling his fingers around my other hand, the arm of which was wrapped behind his shoulders. He was silent for a long time after that, and then he turned on me an expression I couldn’t comprehend. He looked frightened, apprehensive and emotionally torn, as if he desperately wanted something but was terrified of asking for it. He shifted his eyes away from mine, and as he did so, the light caught them and I was astonished to see them glassy with tears. I reached out and cupped his cheek in my palm, trying a bit desperately to comprehend the source of the battle raging within the depths of his eyes, the indigo and azure clashing in synchrony with his emotions. When he spoke, his voice was soft and his words halting. “I’m yours, Brian…I can be yours forever…I will be. If…if you asked me.” I knew suddenly what he wanted…and deep down, what I wanted too. The revelation was enormous, staggering and incomprehensible. It represented everything I was not, everything I’d thought I didn’t want, now or ever. I felt as if I were fighting my way upstream in a river whose current was of my own making. But I knew if I turned and let the tide bear me on its way through my life, I would be carried down and away from this single chance, this one opportunity that I somehow knew would never arise again. “Look at me, Sunshine.” The expression on his face- a strange and complex mix of joy and fear, sorrow and apprehension- told me he knew I was going to do it. But I sensed insecurity as well, as if he didn’t know how to believe it. How didn’t know how to believe that I was about to offer up the last part of my life- the last remaining piece of me- that wasn’t already wholly his and mine together. “I’m yours, Justin…I want to marry you. If you’ll have me.”