Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

The girls' scheme takes flight, but will it have the result they hope for?  Brian gives Justin a choice to make.  *Finally some physical contact, but angst alert here!*

 

 

A Few Minutes Later....


"I see them!" Kaylee called out excitedly to her sister and grandmother as she stood by the back door.  Night was quickly approaching, but she could still clearly make out two forms walking back toward the house.  She quickly jumped away from the French doors, not wanting her fathers to think she was spying on them as she hurried over to the others near the stove.  "Get ready, Grandma!" she urged Jennifer.  "Daddy needs to go first; Katie and I will take care of Dad when he gets here."

 

Jennifer nodded in agreement, her heart racing now that they were about to put her granddaughters' plan to the test.  She wasn't sure if they would be successful, but at least this would force both stubborn men to talk to each other.  That would be a start at least.  "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she told them.  All three turned at the sound of the French doors being opened to observe Justin walking in first.

 

Jennifer noticed the glum look on her son's face and her heart dropped a little; it was obvious that things were still tense between her son and his ex-partner.  Justin's locked gazes on her and gave a slight shake of his head as if he were asking her not to ask any questions; his face transformed into a tender smile upon spying his daughters nearby, however.  "Hi, girls," he called out to them as they came rushing over to hug him at the waist.  His hands reached out to pull each of them closer as he embraced them tightly, his eyes closing for a few seconds before he let them go.  "Did you have a good time together today?" he asked them.  He noticed both girls were wearing similar outfits; apparently their plan to be evasive about which one was which was still in effect.  He wouldn't be surprised if Brian had put them up to it, even though he had insisted that he hadn't.

 

Both girls nodded; they were unable to answer his question before Brian walked in through the still-open door.  He and Justin stared at each other for a moment, some sort of silent communication passing between them, before he nodded over at his daughters.  "Well, if it isn't the Bobbsey twins," he quipped with a smirk as his two daughters looked at him in confusion.  "I'll explain later," he told them as he looked over at Jennifer who was standing at the kitchen counter with a large bowl in front of her, using a pair of oversized, wooden forks to mix up some salad.  "Jennifer," Brian acknowledged her with a soft smile and a nod; despite his and Justin's differences, he had always maintained a high degree of affection and respect for his ex-partner's mother, and to her credit they had kept their relationship cordial and pleasant, mainly due to the love they shared for his and Justin's two girls.  He sniffed the air.  "Something smells good," he told her.

 

"Hi, Brian," she greeted him, trying hard to keep the nervousness out of her voice.  She still hated all the deception that was going on, but again she told herself it might just do some good.  She hurriedly wiped her now-sweaty palms against a towel lying next to her on the counter as she advised, "Dinner should be ready soon.  I just need to wait until the bread is done; shouldn't be long."

 

"Dad, can you take a quick look at our cellphone?  I think there's something wrong with it.  It's in the library on top of your desk.  Please?"  Katie urged him with a quick wink at her sister as she walked over and pulled on Brian's hand.

 

"Our cellphone?" Brian repeated in amusement over their cunning choice of words as Justin snorted softly nearby in frustration; apparently the twins weren't planning on giving up their little game of Charades anytime soon.

 

"That can wait, girls," Brian told them gently as their faces fell a little in temporary defeat.  "I don't want Jennifer to keep dinner waiting and I need to go wash up; you, too."

 

"It'll just take a minute," Kaylee cajoled him, joining with her sister to use her best, most persuasive tone of voice.  If this didn't work they would be out of luck.  They had to get their father away for just a moment, just long enough to...

 

"You could wash up in the bathroom down the hall," she quickly suggested as she batted her baby-blue eyes up at him; even though she had only been reacquainted with her father for a brief time, she already knew he never could resist that.  She suspected someone else used to do that, too, and she had a feeling he normally got what HE wanted when he did that as well.  "Please, Dad?  It was dropped earlier and now it's acting kind of funny."

 

Brian sighed as he glanced over at Justin, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, silently watching the whole interaction.  "What have I told you girls about being more careful with your things?"  His voice was scolding but devoid of any real anger as he shook his head.  "Okay, I'll take a quick look at it.  But if I can't fix it right way it'll have to wait until later, okay?"

 

Katie smiled in relief, casting a grateful glance over at Kaylee for being so persuasive.  "Uh, sure, Dad.  Thanks.  I'll show you where it is."  She began to tug on her father's hand as he allowed her to pull him toward the hallway.

 

"We'll be right back," he told Jennifer as she nodded.  As soon as he was out of earshot, she took a deep breath and turned to her son; time for the next part of the girls' plan.  "Honey, would you go downstairs to the wine cellar and get us a bottle of wine for dinner?"

 

Justin frowned.  "Wine cellar?  What wine cellar?"

 

"The one down in the basement," Kaylee helpfully supplied nearby.  "Dad had it put in a few years ago."  She tried to put as much confidence in her voice as she could muster, making it sound like she had known about it for years, even though she hadn't been all that familiar with any of the house until she had done some exploring on her own and her dad had told her more about it recently.  Despite having lived there before as a young child, she recalled very little from that time.

 

"How convenient for him," Justin dryly responded as he looked over at his mother.  What else did he not know about this house?  He paused.  "Brian would be better to go do it, then, don't you think?  He said he'd be right back."

 

From her place nearby, Kaylee bit her bottom lip anxiously.  That would definitely NOT work.  She watched intently as she noticed her grandmother contemplating how to respond, silently pleading with her to think of something.

 

"Probably, but I can tell you exactly what kind I want and where it is, and dinner's almost ready.  Would you mind?"  Jennifer asked him with a smile, hoping her son would go along with her wishes.  

 

Justin sighed, a sort of melancholy, sorrowful sigh that went straight to his mother's heart, before he nodded finally in agreement; she knew his mood had nothing to do with her request, though.  "Okay," he told her as Kaylee's eyes lit up hopefully.  She glanced over at her grandmother who was trying to keep a decidedly neutral expression on her face.  "What kind do you want?"

 

"I wrote it down," she told him as she reached inside her pants pocket.  "I think a burgundy would go really well with the meal.  The girls told me the red wines are located at the far end of the cellar."

 

He glanced over at his daughter standing in the kitchen with them, again realizing he didn't know which one it was; she merely gazed back at him with a sort of odd grin on her face, obviously enjoying his befuddlement.  Apparently she wasn't going to be offering him any clues as to her identity anytime soon, either.

 

"Oh they did, did they?" he responded wryly.  "Well, in that case why not have one of them go down and get it?" Justin asked her, walking over to retrieve the information.  He didn't really mind doing it, but this business of constantly trying to figure out which daughter was which was starting to wear thin with him.  He was quickly beginning to feel like one soldier in a battle against a legion of others in this house.

 

"Justin..." Jennifer figured this would need to be an Emmy-winning performance as she pressed him, "Please.  I want to get the table completely set and if you go get it now I can have the wine on the table and ready to pour by the time they get back.  You know how I am about keeping things on schedule."

 

Justin twisted his face in resignation as he studied her face. "Yeah, that's certainly true," he told her, remembering how she used to be a regular taskmaster when it came time for him to get ready for school.  He glanced down at the information his mother had scrawled on the paper.  "Okay, I'll be right back," he told her in agreement as he turned and walked down the hallway toward the door leading to the basement.

 

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jennifer let out a huge sigh of relief as she looked over at her granddaughter.  "For a second, I wasn't sure he was going to buy it," she admitted as Kaylee nodded.  "That's one; now we need your dad back here."

 

Kaylee nodded eagerly, her heart pumping madly as she realized how urgent their time was.  Everything had to occur in precise timeframes or it would all be for naught.  "Katie!  Dad!" she yelled out.  "Dinner's almost ready!"  That was her pre-arranged signal to her twin that it was time for the next part of their plan to go into action.

 


 

Down in the basement, Justin turned on the light switch at the top of the bare, wooden stairs, noticing immediately that Brian had done some extensive remodeling since the last time he had been there.  Before, the basement had been an unfinished area with block, stone walls and a bare cement floor and was used mainly for storage; one part of the room had been partitioned off to form a decent-sized laundry room at one time, but since the basement ran the entire length of the house, there had still been an enormous, unused space in the rest of the area.  Brian, however, had apparently decided to take advantage of how cool the lowest level of the house always was to install a state-of-the-art wine cellar at the far end; the cement floor had been completely replaced with what appeared to be a rich color of hardwood laminate, and the stone block walls had been plastered over with a smooth, painted matte finish in a calming, sage green color; additionally, one large corner of the basement had been walled off into yet another separate area.  The door was presently closed to it, however, so he couldn't figure out what it was for.  He was curious to know, but he realized his mother was expecting him back shortly for dinner, so he turned to walk toward the rear of the basement where the wine cellar had been constructed, vowing to find out later.

 

As he walked over to the wine cellar area, he gazed in amazement at row upon row of bottles lying on their sides in custom-built pigeonholes, their labels sticking up so they could more easily be read.  They were classified by type of wine and year of vintage, according to the nameplates fastened to the walls at various points; there must have been at least a hundred bottles stored there.  It would take a virtual lifetime for Brian to drink them, he thought, unless he often brought ‘visitors' to Britin to help him out.  Just the notion of his ex-partner entertaining men in their former home produced a sour taste in his mouth which he refused to identify as jealousy before he promptly quashed it down.  He hoped the enormous wine supply was more for business clients or used for gifts to woo potential new accounts than for lovers; while he didn't doubt that Brian probably DID have men over on occasion, he didn't think he would flaunt them in front of their daughter, though.

 

He brought his mind back to the present as he peered down at the handwritten note his mother had given him; she had written the vintage and type of a red wine on it; all he knew other than that was that it would be near the back of the cellar according to her.  Twisting his lips in concentration, he slowly began to walk toward the back, stopping periodically to search for the bottle she wanted.  "What difference does it really make?" he grumbled softly; he was in no mood to 'celebrate,' but he continued to search nonetheless, wondering if he should take some gulps from one of the other bottles to build up his fortitude.  Something told him he was going to need it tonight during dinner...

 



Same Time Upstairs


Kaylee breathed a sigh of relief as her father came back into the kitchen, Katie practically pulling him along at breakneck speed to hurry things up.

 

"Where's the fire, Princess?" Brian murmured in amusement, looking around curiously for Justin. He was trying to act subtle and nonchalant about it, but something told him from the knowing looks he was receiving from his two daughters that he was failing miserably.  Am I that transparent to them? he couldn't help thinking.

 

"We're hungry, Dad."

 

He smirked.  Where had he heard THAT before?  "Well, tell your other father that; he's the one with the big appetite.  Where is he?"

 

Kaylee and Katie had already rehearsed their answer to that question.  "He went upstairs to wash up, too," Kaylee told him, the lie falling smoothly from her lips.  "He'll be right down."  She peered over at her grandmother, trying to flash a look to her that urged her to speak up.

 

Fortunately for them, Jennifer immediately took the hint.  "Uh, Brian?  Do you mind if we enjoy some wine with dinner?"

 

"Oh, I think I can scrounge a bottle up somewhere," he teased her, knowing he had a virtual endless supply downstairs.  "What kind would you like?"

 

Parroting her previous action with Justin, she reached into her pocket to retrieve a similar piece of paper.  "How about a burgundy?  I think it would go great with the beef."

 

Brian nodded.  "Sure thing," he told her as he reached over for the paper.  He smiled as his two daughters jiggled nervously on their feet, not realizing they were scared that their other father would be back upstairs any minute.  "You've got good taste, Jennifer," he told her with grudging respect as he read off which type and year of wine she wanted.  "Or should I say expensive taste.  I LIKE that in a person," he told her with a grin.  "I'll be right back."  He turned to walk toward the door heading down to the basement as both girls bit their lips in apprehension.  Hurry...Hurry...Please...


"Go!" Kaylee hissed at her sister in an urgent whisper as Katie nodded; she quietly rushed down the hallway toward the basement door just as their father closed it behind them.  She waited just a few seconds, long enough for her father not to detect what she was doing, before she firmly turned the deadbolt to engage it.  Her heart pounding triumphantly in excitement, she turned to look over at her sister and her grandmother, flashing them a ‘thumbs up' sign and a big grin of accomplishment.

 

Kaylee jumped up and down wildly in glee, wanting eagerly to whoop out a congratulations along with it but knowing now wasn't the time.  She turned to her grandmother with a big smile on her face, so like her father's. "We did it, Grandma; we did it!"

 

Jennifer nodded, her own heart pounding in anticipation.  "Well, you managed step one," she gently reminded her.  "The rest is up to your fathers now.  You know, neither one of them is going to be happy when they find out what you two did."  What they ALL did, she couldn't help thinking.  She and Emmett were up to their elbows in it as well...

 

"I don't care," Kaylee told her, her chin jutting out in defiance.  "They're just too stubborn for their own good."  Katie walked up to join her co-conspirators, her arm wrapping around her sister's in a show of support.  "They love each other, and they need to quit acting so childish.  Maybe now they'll actually talk things out."

 

"If they don't kill each other first," Jennifer murmured.  Her face softened at the look of hope in both her granddaughters' eyes.  "I want things to work out for them, too," she told them with a tender smile.  "Just...don't get your hopes up too much, girls.  They have a lot to talk about first."

 

"But they love..."

 

"I know, Kaylee," Jennifer told the granddaughter who was most like Justin when it came to the emotions she wore so clearly on her sleeve; everything was so simple to her.  If only it COULD be that easy.  "I know.  But sometimes love isn't enough, Honey.  If it were, they would still be together."

 

"Well, they're not getting out of there until they've forgiven each other," Katie chimed in, her lips forming a determined line.  "That's all there is to it."

 

Jennifer chuckled softly as she reached to enfold both of her granddaughters in a firm embrace.  "Oh, girls," she told them tenderly.  "If hopes and dreams are enough to get what you want, then we shouldn't have any problems.  But just the same, I'll keep my fingers crossed, too."  She grunted softly as she squeezed them hard for a second before letting them go.  "Well, I don't think we're going to get any wine for a while tonight," she said with a smile.  "Katie, why don't you get the iced tea out of the refrigerator?  Something tells me we won't be having a big crowd for dinner after all."

 

Katie grinned as she nodded in agreement; that was just fine with her.

 


 

"You've got to be kidding, Mom," Justin muttered as he read label after label, trying to find the exact wine vintage and type that his mother had asked him to retrieve.  One more minute of futile searching and he would just grab whatever burgundy he could find and be done with it.  He was so intent on studying each label that he didn't hear or see Brian walking up to his side.

 

"What the fuck are YOU doing down here?" Brian asked him as Justin twirled around, startled; his pulse automatically sped up at the sight of his ex-partner, even though he was simply standing there with a quizzical expression on his face.  "I thought you were upstairs getting ready for dinner."

 

Justin waited a few seconds for his heart to start beating again normally before he replied, "Sorry to disappoint you, but my mother asked me to come down and get a bottle of wine to serve with our meal."

 

Brian frowned.  "What the hell?  That's why I'M down here!  She asked me the same thing!  Why would she send both of us down here for the same bottle?"

 

Justin pondered that conundrum for a moment before a sudden realization struck him and he growled, "Fuck.  I'm going to kill her."  Could his mother be any more obvious?  Eyes flashing, he thrust the piece of paper into Brian's hand.  "I know why; she set us up - again!  Here...It's YOUR wine cellar; you go find the damn bottle!"  He spun on his heels in an angry huff and briskly set off toward the basement steps, unwilling to be a pawn once more in his mother's scheming.  Reaching them in record time, he jogged up the stairs two at a time, not daring to spend another minute in the company of his handsome ex-lover.  It was bad enough thinking about having dinner with Brian in an open dining room; being in a basement alone with him sounded twice as dangerous.

 

"Nice try, Mom," he muttered to himself as he reached the top step and turned the doorknob to open it.  He pushed on the door, expecting it to open easily but finding that nothing happened.  Frowning in confusion, he turned the knob again and used his shoulder this time to push harder against it, thinking that perhaps the wooden door was warped from the heat during the day and had stuck; he remembered that had happened before when he had lived there.  As he applied more pressure against the door and it still didn't budge, however, he slowly began to realize there was another reason why it wouldn't open.

 

He sighed heavily in exasperation as he noticed Brian now standing at the bottom of the steps silently observing him, the notorious object of his mother's matchmaking attempt perched near his feet.  "Mom!  Open the damn door!" he called out.  "This isn't helping!  You promised me, Mother!"  He could feel his face burning partly in embarrassment.  He suddenly felt like some petulant, whiny child under Brian's microscopic gaze, which only made him feel even MORE perturbed.  "Mom, I know you can hear me!"  He brushed one hand through his hair in agitation.  "This is fucking ridiculous!" he growled at her.  "You're treating me like some fucking child!"

 

"Maybe that's because you're acting like one," Brian couldn't help commenting dryly as he watched his ex-partner practically stomp his foot in exasperation over his predicament.

 

Justin bristled at the comment as he glared down at him.  "Stay out of it, Brian; this is between my mother and me!"  He frowned as he thought he distinctly heard the sounds of giggling coming from the other side of the door now.  "What the...?"

 

"I don't think your mother was the only one involved with this little ploy," Brian advised him as he contined to peer up at Justin.  "You forget who else we're having dinner with..."

 

Justin shook his head; of course....duh... "Shit," he muttered softly, realizing Brian was right; how could he have been so dense?  He used his best ‘father is pissed' voice to say authoritatively through the door, "Kaylee Marie and Katherine Elizabeth - I want this door unlocked NOW!"

 

Jennifer stood in the hallway, hearing her son's angry voice and watching her two granddaughters crouched side-by-side in identical poses on the opposite side of the door, their faces pressed up against the hard, oak wood as they listened to their father's tantrum, seemingly nonplussed by his angry tone.  She didn't know whether to congratulate them or scold them for getting her involved in their latest scheme, but she that what's done was done.  And now that she understood the extent to which they had gone to prepare for this latest endeavor, as well as how much its success meant to them, she knew she was in too deep to back out now anyway.

 

To Justin's dismay, his stern admonition was simply greeted with even louder giggling.  "No way, Daddy!" he heard one of them say as Brian's theory was promptly confirmed, the voice slightly muffled by the thickness of the wood.  "You're not coming out of there until you and Dad talk things out!"

 

"See...told you, Sunshine," Brian replied haughtily, unable to restrain from curling his lips under in both admiration as well as amusement over what their daughters had done.  Somehow he wasn't all that surprised, but he had to give them credit for their ingenuity nonetheless.

 

"You're not helping, Brian!" Justin hissed back at him as Brian continued to smile regardless.  "This isn't funny!"

 

Brian took just a few seconds to admire his 'view' of his ex-partner's backside before he replied, "Come on, Justin!  When did you lose your sense of humor?  It IS funny...Admit it!"  He added,  "Actually, I'm damn proud of their creativity; looks like I might have to put them to work in advertising when they get older..."

 

Justin tried to ignore his ex-partner's rambling as he gave the door another, harder shove, knowing it was useless to try and break the door down.  He was certainly no Superman, and he knew these old doors were made out of solid wood.  Even if BRIAN were prone to helping him to break out - which he knew the smug man would never agree to - there was no way with the deadbolt in place they could bust the door open.  No, they were stuck there until someone let them out, and something told him help would not be forthcoming anytime soon.  Aggravated beyond belief over their daughters' trickery, his body surged with righteous indignation and pent-up frustration as he leaned back on the narrow landing and gave the door one last, desperate shove anyway.  When he did, two things happened:  one - just as he feared it would, the door held firm and didn't even budge, and two - he somehow lost his balance on the narrow ledge as he rammed his side into the door and felt himself beginning to fall.  He blindly reached out to try and grab the round, wooden banister secured to the wall alongside the steps, but he missed it by a hairsbreadth just before he felt his feet give out from under him and he began to tumble down the steps.

 

Brian's face quickly turned from amusement into horror as he watched almost in a sort of slow motion as Justin stumbled and lost his footing; he knew it was only a few seconds in actuality, but to him it seemed like a lifetime.  He lunged forward just as Justin fell into a heap at the bottom of the steps at his feet with a loud grunt of pain.  Brian quickly crouched down, his face contorted in concern as he knelt at Justin's feet; without giving it any conscious thought he grasped him by the upper arms and helped him into a sort of sitting position.

 

"Shit!  Are you all right?" he asked, his voice choked with worry as he looked at Justin's ashen face.  He didn't think Justin had hit his head on the way down, but that was always a constant thought whenever Justin hurt himself; he knew that fear would never go away no matter how much time had passed.

 

Justin's face contorted into a grimace; his ass hurt like hell from how he had toppled down the steps, but it was nothing compared to his left ankle at the moment, which was throbbing like a motherfucker.  His breath came out in short gasps of pain as he shook his head "no" to Brian's relief.  Sitting on the carpeted floor of the remodeled basement, he leaned over to rub his ankle where it had been injured.  "My, my ankle..." he struggled to say, forgetting his previous anger directed toward his ex-partner.

 

"Let me see it," Brian told him softly as he partly released his hold on Justin and moved to push his pant leg up to examine it.

 

Justin's breathing continued to be sharp and shallow as he replied defensively, "Leave it alone, Brian!  I can take care of myself."

 

"Like hell you can, Justin!" Brian retorted as he ignored him.  "You just fell down the damn steps; now let me see if you broke it!"

 

Justin crossed his hands over his chest in defiance, but he allowed his persistent ex-lover to proceed anyway.  He bit his lip at the sensation as a pair of warm, gentle hands slowly lifted his left pant leg cuff and gingerly slid their fingers over his bleeding, raw, red skin in studious exploration.  He held his breath and his eyes watered at the pain as Brian lifted his gaze to look at him.  "I won't ask if it hurts," he said; that was plainly obvious by the look on Justin's face.  "Can you move it, though?  Can you wiggle your toes or turn it any?"

 

Despite his trepidation, Justin slowly moved his toes ever so slightly; when he tried to pivot his ankle, however, sharp, agonizing pains shot up his body and he cried out again.  He closed his eyes tightly in reaction, feeling a few tears escaping to his embarrassment.  He had just gotten through telling his mother he wasn't a child and now this...and in front of the one man he didn't want to show any weakness to...

 

He opened his eyes quickly, however, as he felt Brian wrapping his hands under his thighs.  "What are you DOING?" he asked, too shocked to be angry at the moment.

 

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Brian asked as he began to stand up with Justin in his arms.  "It's apparently not broken, but you certainly can't walk on it!"

 

Justin expected him to begin carrying him up the steps so he could have one of their daughters unlock the door; surely under the circumstances they would finally listen to reason and let them out.  To his dismay, however, Brian turned instead and began to walk toward the petitioned-off room that he had noticed earlier.  "Where the hell are you taking me?  The door's THAT way!"

 

Brian rolled his eyes.  "Don't be such a drama princess; I'm not going to take advantage of poor, widdle, injured Justin," he told him in a condescending voice as Justin fumed at him.  "I'm just taking you to the most convenient spot so you can get off your injured foot."

 

Justin huffed in irritation as Brian continued to carry him toward the closed room.  "Convenient for whom and for what?" he asked, his brow narrowed in suspicion.  He knew he had to go where Brian took him, though; there was no way he could possibly walk at the moment on his injured ankle, and he wasn't sure the girls would let him out even if he could.  He thought he should try one more time, though, before it was too late.  Surely they had heard him fall before?

 

Taking as deep a breath as his pain would allow him, he raised his voice to shout, "Kaylee!  Katie!  I fell and hurt my foot!  I need you to let me out of here NOW!"

 

"Nice try, Daddy!" was the astonishing reply a few seconds later as Brian chuckled softly.  "Now go play nice and we'll be back to check on you two later.  And don't forget to say please and thank you," he heard what sounded like his other daughter say as both chortled enthusiastically.  "Time for dinner now; see you later!"

 

He could hear footsteps receding down the wooden hallway upstairs as his mouth hung open in disbelief.  "I don't believe this..."

 

Brian unexpectedly shifted Justin in his arms just then, almost as if he were about to drop him, as Justin quickly grabbed Brian around the neck to hold on.  He looked up into a mischievous pair of twinkling hazel eyes as his own narrowed in suspicion.  "You did that on purpose," he accused him as Brian smirked back at him.  "You son of a bitch..."

 

"Now, now, what did the girls say about playing nice, Sunshine?" Brian quietly scolded him as Justin scowled back at him.  Reaching the closed door, he quirked one side of his mouth up as he leaned down just enough to push the handle down and gave the door a gentle push with his foot to open it wide.  As they stepped inside the room, low-wattage, recessed lights built into the far wall came on as motion was detected, bathing the room in an unexpectedly soft, warm glow.  The room was smartly furnished with a medium-brown leather couch, two matching chairs that looked ominously like Brian's former ‘ice-cream' chair as Justin so vividly remembered it, and a curved, sleek, chrome-and-oak wet bar built into the far wall with two matching barstools cradled under its lip.  Built-in bookshelves on another wall displayed numerous advertising awards that Brian had won over the last several years; he had apparently been awarded so many accolades by now that there was very little precious space available to display any more.

 

What caught Justin's attention the most, however, was a large, wooden wine barrel standing on its end in front of the couch and chairs, draped with a starkly white, crisp linen tablecloth.  A single ivory-colored, half-melted candle was flickering in the mouth of an empty, netted wine bottle, the now-melting wax from the flame congealing like volcano lava down the sides.  Two white-with-gold trim, fine china plates rested on either side of the barrel's surface with a couple of squat wine goblets and crystal water glasses standing at the ready nearby.  Twin bottles of wine sat unopened on the wet bar near a corkscrew whose wooden handle was whimsically fashioned to resemble someone's cock, along with a cheese and fruit tray chilling on top of a bed of slowly-melting shaved ice; some sort of dessert - a cheesecake, perhaps? - was displayed on a heavy, stemmed, glass cake plate and a double-compartment, buffet tray was placed next to it, the domed, steamed up plastic lids indicating a meal was being kept warm inside.

 

Soft saxophone music - slow and sensual, one of those jazz melodies you always recognize but can't quite identify - flowed unobtrusively through the built-in, whole-house speakers that Brian had had installed a few years ago, although at the time he really had done it merely to enjoy listening to relaxing music out by the pool or in his study when he worked.  He had never imagined using it for this purpose, but at the moment he wasn't complaining at all.  Besides, someone else in his arms was doing that exceedingly well at the moment.

 

Justin sounded like a sputtering locomotive trying to get up enough steam to move as he let out a large, heavy sigh of exasperation at the overtly romantic setting.  "Oh, for the love of..."  Temporarily forgetting that Brian was still holding him in his arms, he surveyed the entire room thoroughly.  "I don't fucking believe this!" he growled in irritation.  "When did they have time to DO all this, anyway?"  He huffed in astonishment, temporarily forgetting his physical impairment before the sudden, sharp stab of pain shot through his ankle as a stark reminder and he lifted his gaze to stare into Brian's concerned eyes.  He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

 

"I did not know anything about this," Brian protested firmly in response to Justin's unspoken accusation.  "And I had both girls with me today; there was NO way they could have come here to do this!"  He studied the flushed, indignant face of his ex-partner as he suggested, "What about your mother?  She had to be involved.   Maybe SHE came out here and did this for them."   If he hadn't been so concerned at the time with Justin's injury, he might have noticed the telltale hints that pointed directly at the actual accomplice:  a certain sentimental nelly queen who was near and maybe not-so-dear to him.  For the time being, though, the clear-cut clues that normally would have instantly given Emmett away remained far back in the recesses of his mind.

 

Justin had no idea why he was defending his mother after her admitted complicity before, but he found himself replying, "No way.  I was with her most of the day and she wouldn't have had time to drive all the way out here today and do this."  He struggled in Brian's arms now, feeling decidedly uncomfortable as he detected the beginnings of desire stirring within him for his ex-partner, even with his pain.  "Will you please stop playing Caveman and let me down now?"

 

Brian was tempted to do just that and drop his ex-partner promptly on his ass for his insolent manner, but he only knew that would make matters worse.  Secretly, he was thrilled by their predicament.  Justin would HAVE to talk to him now, whether he liked it or not.  First, though, he needed to take care of his ankle or he would be in too much pain to even consider it.  "Anything you say, Wilma," he quipped as he walked the few steps over to the buttery-soft couch and deposited Justin down lengthwise on it with surprising gentleness.  As Justin slowly sunk down into the couch's folds, Brian sat down gingerly at the other end of the couch by his ex-lover's feet to study him.  He couldn't help staring, despite their current difficulties.  He just couldn't stop looking at him.  Justin - here - in Britin.  He had never dreamed it would happen again, and he regretted the circumstances, but he certainly didn't want to waste the opportunity.  He savored one more gaze at his perturbed former partner before he rose from his place and walked over toward the wet bar, walking around behind it to lean down and retrieve a first-aid kit that he kept under the sink for medical emergencies.

 

He grabbed a dark-blue cotton kitchen towel from the counter and turned on the tap, waiting for the water to run for several seconds until it was lukewarm before he wetted the towel and wrung it out in the sink.  He noticed Justin watching him silently from his place on the couch as he carried both it and the kit back over to him and resumed his place at the end.

 

"I can do it," Justin maintained, still trying to latch onto whatever shred of dignity he had left.  He didn't want to admit that it wasn't just stubborn pride that was making him anxious; it was also the thought of Brian touching him again that did that as well.  Every touch, even a simple brush of their hands or every caress of his fingers on his skin, made each nerve ending in his body come alive and tingle with desire, with remembrance of how they used to be; of how they could be again if he would only let it, and it filled him with nervous anxiety.  Their time apart should have muted that feeling, tamped it down, but instead it had done just the opposite.  Dare he trust his body not to betray his innermost thoughts and emotions?  Did he have a choice to refuse Brian's help, though?  He knew that he couldn't handle tending to his foot on his own - not in the pain he was in.

 

"Justin, quit being so fucking stubborn," Brian scolded him as he opened up the plastic first aid case and began to rifle through it to find what he needed:  some miniature scissors, antiseptic, a self-adhering, flesh-colored bandage roll, and a self-activating cold pack.

 

"What are you going to do?"

 

Brian rolled his eyes as he placed the kit down besides Justin's leg and reached for the scissors.  "We need to clean your wound first, stabilize your foot, and ice it to reduce any swelling," he told him gently, almost like he was talking to one of their daughters.  He held the pant leg taut in his left hand as he lifted the scissors.

 

"Hey!  You're not going to cut into that, are you?  These are my GOOD pants!"

 

Brian laughed at the indignant look on Justin's face.  "Since when did you turn into such a fashionista?  If these are your GOOD pants, I'd hate to see your work clothes.  Although I must say this is a particularly stunning ensemble you're wearing this evening, Mr. Taylor.  Now quit being such a baby and hold still so I can take care of your ankle."

 

Justin opened his mouth to issue a snappy comeback but promptly closed it, finding his voice failing him, especially with Brian's fingers brushing up against his leg as he began to make a vertical cut into the bottom of his pant leg.  Truth was, this pair WAS quite a few years old and hopelessly out of style.  But they were still in good shape and had worn well - at least they HAD been in good shape.  The look of determination on his ex-partner's face, however, and the commanding tone of his voice told him that Brian wasn't going to budge from his mission as he watched him deftly cutting about an 8" slit in the fabric, enough for him to work on his ankle.

 

Having completed his task, Brian placed the scissors down back into the kit and gently peeled back the two flaps, carefully looking at the scratches and abrasions; Justin had really done a number on his ankle when he fell.  There were angry streaks of red where he had fallen, but fortunately not a lot of blood.  "Does it still hurt just as much?" he asked softly as he lifted his gaze to look into the expressive blue eyes.  Their eyes locked as Justin mutely shook his head.

 

"It's not quite as bad," he told him before he averted his eyes, feeling unexpectedly uncomfortable and knowing what was about to happen but helpless to stop it.  His pulse raced in anticipation and he closed his eyes as Brian's hands touched both sides of his lower leg and began a slow, careful exploration of his bruises.  The feelings his mere touch generated were almost too much to bear; it was at once new but oh-so-familiar, and brought back all the feelings of desire he always felt whenever Brian touched him.

 

Brian clearly saw the struggle taking place on his ex-partner's face.  He could tell he wasn't the only one being affected by the two of them being alone.  He forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing and why he was doing it, even though every fiber in his body wanted to start stripping Justin of the rest of his clothes, throw his own body down on his and make him remember how good they once were together.  Since they had met, no man could make his body thrum with pleasure the way that Justin had; not since the first day they had met if he were totally honest.  By the time they had separated, Justin had learned every touch, every caress, every stroke of his hands, his lips, and his tongue to drive him wild, and touching him now brought all of that rushing back to the forefront.  How he longed to just let go, to show Justin just how much he still loved him.  But something held him back.  He refused to properly acknowledge it, but deep down he knew what it was - it was fear; Brian Kinney was actually afraid of being rejected.  For if Justin rejected his physical advances outright, he knew then that it was truly over between them and he refused to even consider that prospect.  The reaction he was receiving at the moment, though, began to fill him with renewed hope that his feelings were being reciprocated.  That, and the fact that Kaylee had assured him that Justin still loved him, made his determination remain steadfast.  All he had to do now was convince Justin to move on from their mistakes and start over again.  Perhaps tonight he would finally get that chance.

 

For the time being, though, he savored what he could accomplish as he lightly ran his hands along the pale flesh of Justin's ankle, now mottled with dark bruises and scrapes.  His face remained etched in concern over the cuts he saw, but he was relieved when he failed to note any telltale lumps or ridges that might indicate a bone out of place; the fact that Justin could freely wiggle his toes earlier probably meant that the ankle had merely sustained a bad sprain, not a break or a fracture.

 

He looked up at Justin sympathetically as he heard a soft grunt of pain.  "Sorry," he found himself mumbling, hating like hell to cause him any more pain.

 

Despite his discomfort, Justin mourned the loss of Brian's touch as he stopped his examination, but felt somewhat relieved; he knew his ex-partner was merely examining his injury, but it still made his breath hitch.  He watched, transfixed, as Brian reached over and retrieved the warm kitchen towel to lightly wash the impacted area to prepare it for the antibiotic cream.  Placing the towel down on the floor, he squeezed some of the cream onto his long fingers, rubbing it between the tips of his fingers before he began to spread it slowly over the open scrapes on Justin's skin.

 

In an eerie recreation of a time long ago, the words were out of Justin's mouth before he realized the significance of them:  "It's cold," he remarked as a slight shiver went through him.

 

Brian's lips turned up as he replied almost automatically, "It'll heat up."  He locked onto Justin's eyes, both instinctively realizing they were reliving that moment so long ago, before he saw just the hint of a smile on Justin's face and his own face relaxed just a bit.  The moment passed, he lowered his head to return to his task.

 

A few minutes later, he had the bandage snugly wrapped around Justin's ankle, pressing the material together so the Velcro ends bonded against themselves.  He then broke open the portable cold pack to activate it and pressed it against the injured area as Justin winced at the sensation; he fastened it firmly but not too snugly with some medical tape before he slowly replaced the flaps of Justin's pant leg back down and let out a deep breath.  He dug into the first aid kit one more time and fished out a small pack containing two Advil tablets.   Standing up, he grabbed one of the two water glasses and, walking over to the wet bar, filled the glass half full of water before returning to Justin's side.

 

"Here," he instructed as he stood next to Justin and held out the two tablets and glass of water.  "Take these; it'll help with the inflammation and the pain."

 

Justin nodded and for once did as he was told without further comment.  As he reached up to take the two tablets out of Brian's open palm and accept the glass from him, though, their hands brushed against each other and he felt the same electric feeling passing through his body at the simple contact.  Was the gesture accidental on Brian's part or not?  He had no way to tell, but he suspected it was probably done deliberately.

 

Brian watched as Justin tilted his head back to swallow the pills, finding the smooth, pale skin of his neck strangely erotic as his ex-lover gulped the water down.  God, everything about this man fascinated him, even now...He couldn't help thinking as he bit his lower lip and returned to his place at the end of the couch, observing Justin finishing off the water before placing the glass back down on the wine barrel.

 

"Are you hungry?" Brian asked him unexpectedly, thinking that was a safe topic to broach.  "You must be hungry by now if you haven't eaten since lunch, and you shouldn't take that medicine on an empty stomach."  He glanced down at his Rolex, noting it was almost eight o'clock.  The aroma coming from underneath the domed lids of the serving buffet was starting to smell mighty appealing even to him, despite his no-carbs-after-seven rule.

 

Justin snorted softly.  "I thought I was supposed to do all the public service announcements," he chided Brian.  His face sobered as he admitted, "Yeah, I AM pretty hungry."  He had been so nervous about meeting Brian for dinner tonight that his stomach had been tied in knots too much for him to eat a lot at lunchtime, and now he found that despite his pain he was starving.

 

Brian nodded back at him as he rose from the couch.  "Can you sit up?" he asked as he stood in front of Justin.  He reached toward him as if to help, but Justin's huff of exasperation stopped him.

 

"I hurt my ankle, Brian, I'm not a fucking cripple," he growled quietly.  "I'm fine."

 

Brian shook his head sadly, feeling like they were taking one step forward, two steps back.  "Have it your way, Mr. Taylor," he told his ex-partner as he held his hands out in supplication.  He turned to pick up the two dinner plates and walked over to the nearby buffet server to lift the lid on the first compartment.

 

Justin couldn't help his curiosity.  "What is it?" he asked.

 

Brian shrugged; he was by no means an expert when it came to identifying meat cuts.  "It's some kind of beef," he told him as his ex-partner craned his neck to take a look.  Recognizing the large piece of meat tied up with a series of crisscross strings, Justin quipped dryly, "It's a beef brisket; a large piece of meat.  How appropriate; you should like it."

 

Brian had to smirk at that statement; at least he was hearing just a bit of the old Justin in his ex-partner's voice.  He reached over to retrieve a carving knife lying next to the buffet and a large serving fork as he began to cut up some slices of the meat.  "Well, it's certainly a tender piece of meat," he told Justin with a grin.  "No cream sauce, though."  He saw Justin's face redden into a blush as he turned his back on him to pull two slices out of the container and place them on the china plates, using a large ladle nearby to scoop out some of the gravy, potatoes, and onions.  Lifting the second domed lid, he found a small loaf of homemade bread, already separated into six, even slices.  Using a small set of tongs next to the bread, he plucked out two slices and placed one each on the plates.

 

He noticed Justin watching his every movement as he silently returned to set the plates down on the top of the barrel, walking back over to grab one of the two wine bottles.  Picking one up, he grabbed the corkscrew by its cock-like handle and gave the bottle a twist.  "Puts a whole new spin on jerking off," he quipped as he slowly twisted his wrist and the cork began to pull out.

 

"I'm glad your skills haven't gotten rusty in my absence," Justin replied, just the hint of sarcasm in his voice as Brian pulled the cork completely out and turned to look at him with a weary look on his face.  Did Justin really think with Katie around that he brought tricks home on a daily - or even weekly - basis to fuck?  If he did, he was going to be soundly disappointed to find out the real truth - if he would believe him, that is....

 

He brought one of the wine bottles back to the couch, pouring some of the dark liquid into the two goblets and leaving Justin's on top of the barrel, figuring he would let "Mr. Independent" retrieve it.  Justin gave him a pained sort of look before he reached over to curl his fingers around the stem of the glass and brought it to his mouth to take a sip, eyeing Brian warily from his place next to him. Now that he was sitting up in closer proximity to him, he could distinctly smell the familiar fragrance of Brian's expensive cologne, the scent of his shampoo, and see the clearly-defined lines of his chest muscles framed against the silky shirt.  He longed to slide his hands up the chiseled biceps of those arms, and feather his fingers through what he knew would be extraordinarily baby-soft, auburn hair at the back of Brian's neck.  Brian always did have the softest hair.  While he knew that his ex-partner always had loved to play with his hair, especially when he kept it longer, he wasn't the only one that enjoyed imbibing in that luxury.  The truth was, Brian's hair was even more alluring and softer than his was, and it took everything he had at that moment not to indulge himself once more in that pleasurable activity.

 

He quickly averted his eyes as he noticed Brian catching him staring over at him, feeling the telltale warmth of embarrassment on his cheeks as he took another sip of his wine to steady his nerves.

 

"Should you be drinking all that?" Brian couldn't help asking as he watched Justin take another, larger sip from his glass.

 

"Why not?  Have you joined AA or something?"

 

Brian huffed out a soft breath of exasperation.  "The pills.  Should you be mixing alcohol with them?"

 

"YOU brought me the pills - and the wine," Justin pointed out stiffly.  "It's just a couple of Advil and some red wine, Brian; not poppers and a bottle of Beam.  I hope you won't be disappointed when I don't OD on them."

 

Brian bristled as he hurriedly gulped down the rest of his own glass and placed it down on the wine barrel none too gently, his patience thoroughly rattled.  "Damn it, Justin!" he snapped, turning to stare into startled, blue eyes.  "I've had just about enough of this treatment!"  He stood up abruptly, agitatedly pushing back some errant hair that had fallen into his forehead with his hand.  Facing his ex-partner, he asked him, "What the fuck do you want from me, Justin?  Huh?  Tell me!"  Brian crossed his hands over his chest, his quickly-cooling dinner forgotten for the time being.

 

Justin's eyes widened at the bitter, angry tone in Brian's voice; it was the first time that he had used that tone since they had reunited.  The fury in his voice, plus the intense stare he was receiving, made him stumble on his own words as he replied, "I never said I wanted anything from you Brian; not anymore.  I'm only here to get the custody order changed for the girls' sake."

 

"Bullshit," Brian spat back at him as he plopped down next to Justin again and deliberately pushed his thigh against his; even through the stiff fabric of Justin's jeans and the softer linen of his dress pants he could feel Justin's leg trembling at the simple touch.  "Let's take the girls' advice and just get this out in the open, shall we?  I'm tired of dancing around our problems here."

 

Justin hugged his arms around his chest as he replied simply, "I didn't create them, Brian; you did when you couldn't keep your dick out of that other man's ass.  Was it that much more impressive?  You always said mine was incomparable."  He tried to sound indifferent and nonchalant, like it was water over the bridge now and not important to him anymore, but his cracking voice betrayed him much too clearly.  He turned his head away from Brian toward the wall as tears once more formed in his eyes, not wanting his ex-partner to know how much it still hurt, even now; even after all this time.  He had managed to stay so strong when he was away from him, when he was out of Brian's sight, when he didn't have to see him and feel the emotions surging through him.  He had succeeded in fooling himself - at least most of the time - that he could go on and have a happy life without him and without seeing Katie until she was an adult.  Now, though, as his heart ached and his pride spewed out words that he didn't really mean, he knew that had all been one, big, fat lie.

 

Brian let out a tense breath between slightly parted lips before he dared to reach over and place his hand under Justin's chin; he felt his ex-lover tense under his touch, but he held firm as he forced him to turn and face him, noticing the blue eyes glistening now with unshed tears.  "Justin..." he whispered, his anger fading as his eyes drifted lower to look at the mouth that he had kissed countless times before and was longing to kiss again.  "That was never the reason why," he quietly told him.

 

"Then why, Brian?" was the plaintive cry as Justin tried to pull away from his grasp, but Brian wouldn't let him.  "Tell me why you did it.  I need to know. Was it worth it, Brian?  Was it worth what it cost us?  What it cost our family?  What it cost our little girls?"  He finally managed to wrench himself free from Brian's fingers as well as his probing gaze, wanting desperately to stand up and create some much-needed space between the two of them, but he knew with his injured ankle he couldn't do it.  Instead, he reached over to pour some more wine ¾ full into his goblet and took another large gulp to steady his nerves, savoring the smooth but tart taste as it slid down his tongue and throat.  "Our dinner's getting cold," he abruptly announced before Brian had a chance to respond, realizing how absurd his statement sounded but not knowing what else to say.  He picked up his fork and, taking an almost violent stab at his meat, brought a large bite up to his mouth and chewed on it; he did the same thing to a chunk of potato before he had swallowed the meat, concentrating on his dinner as his heart pounded and sweat broke out on his skin.  Feeling Brian's eyes boring into him out of the corner of his eye, he felt his appetite soon fading away as he placed his fork down and turned to look at him; he was still sitting way too close, but at least Brian had fidgeted just enough that he wasn't touching him now.

 

"You want to give me an answer, Brian?" he pressed him, his voice breaking as he turned to stare at him; Brian was returning the gaze quietly, his lips pursed tightly together.  "Just give me a good reason; make me understand what was so important that day that you would forgo everything we had worked for and what we had achieved and throw it all away like that."

 

Feeling like a dog beaten one too many times, Brian's eyes narrowed in anger as the words began to flow out of him like an avalanche.  "Justin, it was ONE mistake!   One, stupid, regrettable mistake!  Why is it so hard for you to forgive me for it?  Ten years, Justin!  Ten fucking years!  Neither one of us was an angel back then.  I took you back when you left me for him."  The words stung as Brian found he was still unable to say Ethan's name; it was quite possible that even now Justin still didn't realize how much that had hurt when he had left him.  Yes, he had pushed him to do it, but he did not understand what it had taken to let him go and how damn painful it had been until he had returned.

 

Justin shuddered at Brian's stinging words of defense; it was like déjà vu and sounded much too much like the same response he had received from Ethan when he had cheated on him.   Except back then, Brian hadn't promised him anything as far as fidelity went.  This time it had been different; totally different.  Not only had he promised, but he had committed to him in a way that he had never done with any other man.  Didn't he see that?

 

He didn't know if it was the effects of the pain meds kicking in, the wine, a combination of both, or just plain, bone-aching weariness, but Justin was tired; tired of fighting, tired of going around on the same merry-go-round in an endless circle, and tired of his heart aching for what used to be.  He sighed a mournful sound as he looked over at Brian.  "Brian," he murmured softly.  "Why are we doing this to each other?"

 

Brian placed his hands on top of his thighs, anywhere to avoid touching Justin, even though his need to do so was so palpable that his fingers were clenched into the fabric of his pants.  Any remaining anger disappeared at the mournful tone in Justin's voice.  He always did hate to see Justin hurt or upset, and it was obvious that he still carried both inside, even now.  Still, he also couldn't help thinking about how obstinate - and unreasonable - Justin was being for carrying this grudge all this time.  Didn't his feelings count here, too?

 

He gazed into the troubled, blue eyes, the irises so wide with emotion he felt like he might drown in them if he stared at them too long.  Once more, despite his conviction that Justin had punished him long enough for his one indiscretion and that he needed to finally let it go, at the same time he tried to formulate how to explain the reason why it had happened in the first place when he couldn't quite explain it himself.  He continuned to have an absolute abhorrence when it came to talking to any professional about his feelings.  The only time he had ever come close to seeking therapy was when he sought his friend, Alec, out for advice after Justin's bashing.  Even then, he couldn't do it in a staid, professional setting.  He had to meet the guy casually over drinks and with a cocky attitude.  Just the thought of confessing that he and Justin couldn't fuck - no, call a spade a spade, make love - had been enough to make his skin crawl with discomfort, and it had been all he could do to discuss it with his friend at Woody's.  The only reason why he had been able to do it in the first place was because he had truly cared for Justin and he had felt guilty and responsible for what had happened to him.  He just didn't discuss such things to anyone, especially a ‘professional.'  So he had never sought out anyone's opinion as to why he had done what he had done that fateful day at Kinnetik.  It seemed that now, though, that might be coming back to haunt him, because he would have to try and explain his reasoning behind it to the man who meant the most to him and he had no real, fucking clue how to do that.

 

He turned his attention back to the present as he heard Justin say softly, all bluster and furor missing now, "Don't you understand how much it hurt me, Brian?  How much it still hurts?  Don't you realize that when I saw what you had done, it destroyed a piece of my heart, too?  We had just made a commitment to each other, that one commitment between us that no one had ever gotten from you.  We were so happy back then, Brian; at least I was.  Weren't you?  What had I done that would have caused you to do what you did?"

 

Brian sighed.  Sometimes he wondered if Justin understood him that well at all; it really had not had anything to do with HIM or his shortcomings.  Why did everything have to have a complex, methodical explanation?  This was HIM they were talking about - not some logical, simple-minded, unfucked-up individual.  He always thought that was one of the reasons that Justin had first been attracted to him, or at least one of the reasons why he had continued to pursue him, even after he had told him he didn't ‘do' repeats.  Now he wanted some rational Aristotelian explanation for his actions?

 

He leaned over, watching as Justin instinctively pulled back, toward the rolled end of the couch as if he were trying to avoid him, his body half-on, half-off the couch with only his uninjured leg now touching flat on the floor.  He tried to ignore the lead pit in his gut at the thought that Justin was trying to escape from his touch, knowing now that it was going to be inevitable anyway from the looks they had shared and the heat that was practically pouring out of both of them.  Of course, it had always been that way between them, and he suspected it always would be, despite the bullshit that Justin had thrown at him in the stables.  He knew better - they BOTH knew better, and he would prove it, damn it...

 

Brian was careful not to brush up against his ex-partner's injured ankle, but that was ALL he tried to avoid as he slid up to drape himself over Justin's smaller frame, his chest flush with his ex-lover's and their lower bodies tangled together.  He studied the eyes that widened at his action, the pink blush that crept up into Justin's normally pale cheeks, and the small beads of sweat that began to break out on his forehead; he could feel Justin's heart beating so fast it seemed like it might explode at any second.  He smiled slightly as he noticed Justin's normally sapphire-blue irises begin to darken with the telltale signs of desire for him as he whispered, "If you're looking for some grandiose explanation as to why I did what I did, Sunshine, the truth is I can't give you one.  Even I can't explain it," he admitted as his arms came out to grasp Justin by the upper arms; he heard the sharp intake of breath underneath him while at the same time noticing Justin's breaths coming out in small, tense, anticipatory pants, his lips parted slightly, perhaps in preparation to issue some righteous retort but probably more in a silent plea to do what Brian was fully intending to do - kiss the fucking daylights of this man he had been hungering for for the past ten years.  "But there is ONE thing that I'm sure about..."

 

He watched Justin's lips in rapt fascination under half-lidded eyes as they tried to speak; this time he could tell his ex-lover was having problems expressing himself.  Gone was the righteous indignation of before, the fury of a lover scorned and betrayed; in its place was a man who was struggling to even verbalize his thoughts now as Justin sputtered out, "I...I still need you to help me understand..."

 

Instinctively, Justin placed his hands around either side of Brian's neck near his collarbone and curled his hands over the smooth, muscled flesh for support; his heart began to beat furiously at the lust-driven look on Brian's face and the warmth of Brian's skin still hidden underneath his dress shirt as he whispered his ex-lover's name breathlessly, unable to control what he knew was about to happen, what he had secretly hoped would happen ever since he had first seen Brian again despite what he had said earlier...His tongue slid out then, just enough of the tip to wet his dry, parched lips as he watched Brian's face coming closer and closer...

 

There was an almost triumphant, even smug look on Brian's face as he watched Justin's tongue snake out to wet his lips and say his name.  God, how he had longed to hear that again from that luscious mouth!  His own eyes darkened into a smoldering shade of deep brown as at last his lips touched those that he had longed to taste again.  He heard a whisper of his name once more on Justin's lips as he took a long, sensual swipe across his mouth, licking, familiarizing himself with that exquisite, intoxicating taste that he hadn't sampled in so long and was uniquely Justin's.

 

He pulled back just enough to whisper, "Open up, Justin; let me back in."  It was part plea, part command, and even he wasn't sure if he meant it figuratively, literally, or both, but he was rewarded with his tongue successfully sliding inside the wet, moist surface of Justin's partly open mouth.  He heard a soft whimper from his ex-partner, providing him with enough encouragement to take his hands and place one on Justin's left cheek and the other around the back of his head as he rammed their mouths together firmly, angling his head to deepen the kiss.

 

Justin's heart was pounding, his entire body was tingling as he and Brian kissed; he knew, somehow he knew that they would reach this point, that they would be unable to avoid acting on their passion for each other, and the sensations were even more powerful than he remembered.  His arms came up to slide around Brian's neck and pull him even more impossibly closer, their mouths fused together as if they were one.  Brian's fingers were caressing his cheek and the hair at the back of his skull as he plunged his tongue inside of his mouth with a master's stroke, and Justin thought he might pass out from lack of air and the pleasure of it all.  It was all he could do to hang onto consciousness, to remember to breathe through his nose as his body quickly made a complete mockery of what he had told Brian in the stables earlier.

 

Brian laid his full weight upon Justin's smaller frame, letting him know in no uncertain terms WHO was in control now; his cock was becoming almost unbearably hard and he could feel Justin's equally impressive arousal lying heavy and full between them.  Fuck, how he wanted him so badly at that moment! But he also knew he had to drive home a point, to make JUSTIN understand now that he had been punished enough, that he had done adequate penance; that Justin was a terrible liar.  It was time that someone else did some apologizing as well as forgiving...he had lived as a prisoner of guilt long enough.

 

With extreme willpower worthy of a man dying of thirst in the desert and declining a drink of water, he thoroughly swabbed the inside of his ex-partner's mouth one last time with his tongue, hearing a moan in the back of Justin's throat in response, before he broke off the kiss and pulled back slightly from their embrace, noting the flush of his ex-partner's skin, the hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, his swollen and bruised lips, and his mussed-up hair.  It took everything he had to remove his straying hands from Justin's waist where they currently lay as he raised himself up on his knees and then stood by the couch, his own legs feeling surprisingly unsteady.  He tried hard, however, to mask what it had meant to have Justin back in his arms again as the blond peered up at him with a dazed, thoroughly confused look on his face, his eyes still dark and glazed from desire.  His chest was heaving visibly up and down as he gasped for some much-needed breath while he stared up at him in complete shock and disbelief.  As he looked at Justin's disheveled state, Brian thought it was the most erotic sight he had ever seen, but he wouldn't, he couldn't back down.  He only hoped that what he was about to do would eventually get him what he most fervently wanted.  And truth be told, Justin's words from earlier still jabbed at his heart like the twist of a knife...

 

"What...what happened?" Justin asked him breathlessly, temporarily forgetting about his need for Brian to explain his actions of so long ago.  All he knew was that one minute he and Brian had been sharing a mind-blowing, glorious kiss, and the next moment his body was suddenly devoid of warmth as Brian abruptly let go of him and stood up.

 

Brian hoped that he was putting on his best poker face as he stood tall and pulled his wrinkled shirt down to try and smooth it over his dress pants as he informed him, "Sorry, Sunshine.  I don't know what came over me.  I wouldn't want to be accused of forcing myself on you.  Playtime's over."

 

Justin's open-mouthed look of incredulity at being ceremoniously rejected was replaced with one of deepening anger as he struggled to sit back up on the couch; he felt humiliated as well as used.  "You...you did that just to make a point?  Is that what this was?  I don't believe you, Brian."  Please...Please tell me I'm wrong...


Brian's heart broke just a little at the wrenching tone in Justin's voice, but he had reached his breaking point himself.  He knew he was taking a big risk, but he had paid his price over and over again, too many times to count now.  If Justin wanted to reconcile with him - and God knows he wanted that as well - he was going to have to come to HIM now.

 

He took a deep breath, slowing his breathing down so he could sound more like his old, sarcastic, cocky self as he chided him, "Now, now...don't raise your voice or I'll have to tell the girls that you didn't play nice after all.  And I didn't hear a please or a thank you once for tending to your injury."

 

He watched as Justin's face turned red with rage as he spat out, "How's this for common courtesy, then?  How about fuck you, Brian!  You can go to Hell!  Get out and leave me the fuck alone!"  He had no idea how he would possibly get up the steps with his ankle the way it was, but at the moment he didn't give a shit.  All he wanted to do was be as far away from his ex-partner as possible.

 

Brian's face turned deadly serious as he stood there staring into Justin's eyes; eyes that were almost the color of coal now.  They were angry, hurt, and miserable.  "Yes, I did do that to make a point, Justin," he told him calmly.  "I did it to make you realize how I've felt for the past ten years.  How I've felt each time I've tried to tell you how much I regretted what happened and tried to make amends but you wouldn't listen.  How I've felt each time you pulled away from me and wouldn't forgive me.  How I've felt waking up each day to a cold, barren bed because you weren't there with me.  How I've felt knowing that I was instrumental in our daughters not being in each other's daily lives and how I've felt each time I tried to obtain your forgiveness and I didn't receive it."

 

He felt the beginning of tears prickling the back of his own eyes as he turned his head away, not wanting Justin to know how deeply he had been hurt, how it was hurting him NOW to say and do these things to him.  Maybe he should let him see how vulnerable he felt at the moment, but just like Justin had been with him before, his pride wouldn't let him.  Instead, he focused on a painting hanging above the wet bar.  It was one that Justin had done several years ago, a piece that he had left up in the attic studio in his haste to leave for Chicago with Kaylee.  It was one of his medium-sized abstracts, comprised of hues that were warm, vibrant, and yes, happy; painted just before they had decided to commit solely to each other and before Brian had made the one, single mistake that Justin could apparently not forgiveBrian had found it a few months later when he had finally worked up enough nerve to go upstairs, and he had selfishly clung to it afterward as one of the few remaining vestiges of his former life with him.

 

Justin followed his gaze over to the painting, gasping a little as he recognized what it was; how had he not noticed it before?

 

Feeling a little surer of himself now, Brian turned his gaze back to his ex-partner, his voice still breaking slightly with emotion as he admitted, "I love you, Justin.  I never stopped loving you.  But until you can forgive me - truly forgive me for what happened - we're done; we can't move on.  I will work with you to alter the custody agreement for the sake of our girls, and I will give you all the time you want with Katie.  But that's it," he told him, as he held his hands out to his sides.  "I can't do this anymore."  He paused, watching a myriad of emotions flashing across Justin's face but unable to accurately decipher them as he told him, "I'll send your mother down to help you."

 

Just before he turned to go, he softly asked him, "Remember that day a long time ago when I told you that I hoped you get what you want?  Well, I still do.  I hope we both get what we want.  The choice is up to you."  Silently, he turned around and headed toward the still-open door, his footsteps muted on the carpeted floor as he quickly disappeared from sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

Readers, I'm taking an informal poll here.  Would you rather continue to have long chapters or smaller ones that are updated a little faster?  Most of you are no doubt aware that I tend to be on the long side of chapter length, but it does make me update a little slower than some other writers.  Any thoughts?  At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter; thanks as always for reading and for your support.:)

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