Justin couldn't believe what he was seeing. Could Brian actually think that he would want a... hustler for his Birthday?! Justin didn't care if the guy did look like a model that he thought was hot!
Spotting the hustler's clothes in the corner, Justin quickly grabbed them and threw them at the young man. "Get the fuck out," he said calmly. While the hustler was dressing, Justin could see Brian looking at him. Looking at him in confusion, and that made Justin that much angrier.
A few minutes later, the hustler was gone and Brian and Justin were staring at each other. "What the hell is your problem?" demanded Brian. "I paid good money for him!"
Justin could feel the tears threatening to fall, but his anger was able to keep them at bay. "I don't care. Brian, what in the world would make you think that I would want a hustler for my Birthday? There's enough tricks through the rest of the year."
"He looked like that model that you like. Plus, I thought it would be hot to watch. I thought you would like your present."
Justin shook his head. "You know, I have to watch you flaunt your tricks in my face all the time. I go to the baths and I do threesomes and foursomes, but only because of you. I don't like doing those things." After pausing for a moment, Justin continued. "I wanted something from your heart. Something to show that you actually give a damn. I would've rathered not had anything instead of you giving me that hustler."
"Justin, we're not lesbians--," Brian started.
Justin cut him off. Rolling his eyes, he replied, "I know, I know. I've heard your speach a dozen and one times. We're not lesbians, but even fags can show that they have feelings, Brian." Justin sighed and made a desicion. "I'm through, Brian. I love you and I always will. But, evidently, it's not eough for you. I'm tired of having to always watch you fucking other men and I'm tired of you expecting me to do the same."
Brian's eyes clouded over with anger. "Fine. You knew who I was when you got with me. You never seemed to have a problem with it before."
"Maybe I did and you just didn't care!" exclaimed Justin.
"Well, you're free to go whenever the hell you feel like it," said an eerily calm Brian.
Justin nodded. Grabbing a duffal bag, he quickly threw some clothes and and his sketchbooks into it. He took out his loft key and laid it on top of the dresser.
He had made it to the loft door, before Brian spoke. "What about your computer?"
Justin shrugged. "You bought it. Keep it."
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with it?" demanded Brian.
"Whatever you want." With that said, Justin slid open the loft door and walked out. Brian could hear the echo of the loft door sliding shut.