Justin came to a halt, gasping a little at the exertion of having sprinted so far. Even vampires had their limits, it turned out.

He’d run clear across the city, through all the urban sludge that had once been snow, and now he’d arrived on the sidewalk in front of Six Fuller Court. He stared upwards to the loft’s windows, frowning when he saw how dark the apartment looked. But the corvette was parked outside on the street, so the vampire took hope that Brian hadn’t gone out that night. It was imperative that he find the other man as soon as possible!

He took the stairs up, heart near to bursting as he climbed. And he slid the loft’s door open without a thought for knocking. What he’d come to say was too important for knocking, after all.

Inside, the loft was just as dark as it’d appeared from the street. The smell of cigarette smoke hit Justin as he timidly stepped inside. Taken aback by the lack of light, Justin blinked into the dim space as his eyes struggled to discern the shapes from the shadows in front of him. His lips parted to say something along the lines of, Hello? But he cut himself off at the sight of Brian, laying across those famously huge pillows in the living room.

Before he could bring himself to speak, a woman’s voice rang out, sounding slightly mechanical in the air. She sounded as if she’d just picked up from a larger conversation,

“… well I’m sorry Mr. Kinney, but um… love is not a mental disorder nor an addiction. We don’t treat that here.”

“I don’t think you understood me correctly; I’m talking about the vampire part of it.” Although if she could break him of the former as well, he’d have been much obliged.

“Yes well, I’ve never heard of that being an issue in so far as—”

“Lady trust me: it’s an issue. What exactly DO you treat?” Brian interrupted. He sounded frustrated, and maybe like he had a headache, if the way he was rubbing his temple with his eyes closed was anything to go by. Justin took a careful step closer as he surmised that his lover was talking to someone over a speakerphone.

“Alcohol addiction, Benzodiazepine abuse, Crack—”

“Crack?! Christ, don’t Pittsburgh’s richest and gayest have anything more dignified to get fucked up on these days? I thought you people were running a quality homo resort.”

“Sir?” The woman sounded very confused by the attitude of the call she’d received.

Brian opened his eyes, the slight movement of his intruder jarring him from the conversation. He stared at Justin unblinkingly as the woman continued to prattle on about the highlights of the Shadyside Gentlemen’s Rehabilitation Spa, oblivious that she’d lost her audience of one. Hazel eyes stuck to the form of the younger man in his apartment, Brian hurriedly murmured, “…Never mind. I’ll check myself in tomorrow. Make any necessary charges to the card I gave you.” He’d reached to end the call before the woman could utter another word. “Justin,” he ventured slowly, suddenly hyperaware of the position he was in. Half-naked and sweaty, disheveled and laying haphazardly on the floor, the normally dignified executive couldn’t restrain an internal wince at the younger man seeing him this way. He tried to take a deep breath to steady himself. “What are doing here?”

“I… came back,” the blonde uttered lamely. He hadn’t expected to find Brian so sick so soon. It had sort of made him forget the grand speech he’d planned. He lingered where he stood.

“‘You came back’.” Brian quoted, staring through the darkness as if he was trying to figure out what the words meant. “Well that’s just grand. Why aren’t you on a plane right now?”

Justin was going to answer, but whatever he might have uttered was cut off by the darker man’s wince of pain. “Brian? What’s wrong?” He stepped even closer.

“What do you think?” he gritted through clenched teeth, trying to sit up but failing as a tremor wracked his body. He flopped back down to the pillows, and Justin rushed over. “I’m fine,” he barked, before that statement was completely undermined by another cry of pain. “Ah, fuck! This is… fuck.”

Justin was on the floor beside him, unable to stop his hands from cradling the pained man’s face. It was like a knife through his heart to see the strong man he’d loved for so long, in pain like this. The knife was only twisted by the fact that he knew he’d been the cause of it. “Let me help you.” Justin didn’t stop to remember that Brian had no clue about his regained emotions. He felt only rejection as the larger man shrugged him off,

“I said I’m fine!” he grunted, panting as whatever wave had come over him, passed. He looked exhausted, and wary of the blonde being so close. “Justin, you don’t have to do this. I told you I can handle it.”

“Obviously you can’t!” Justin nearly cried. “I had no idea this would be like this. So bad so soon.”

A humorless chuckle escaped Brian’s lips, “Me neither. This is fucking worse than the cancer.”

“Really?”

“Not really, but close,” he amended. He hadn’t yet thrown up. Yet. There was sweat beaded along his brow, and he used every ounce of willpower within him not to flinch as the concerned blonde reached to smooth the messy strands of his hair back. “I called a place,” he offered quietly, hoping that it would stop Justin from feeling the need to touch him like this. “Forget Betty Ford. This place is the Passages, Malibu for every well-off fag on the east coast.”

Justin pursed his lips. “Sounds fabulous.”

“So I’ll be fine. You don’t have to be here. Just go on and… what are you doing?” The kid had stood, but not to leave as Brian had hoped. He fiddled in the kitchen then the bathroom, before returning with ice and a towel. “Oh, jeeze. Justin stop…” The blonde steadily ignored him, sitting again to place his things down and take up the older man’s arm. “What are you doing?” Brian snapped.

There was no acknowledgement of his bitter tone, only Justin calmly holding his hand in his lap, using his own thumb to rub calming circles into the other man’s palm as the makeshift ice pack was applied to his forehead. “You know,” he said quietly, “I remember when you used to do this for me.”

“Oh, back when you were an addict?” Brian snapped.

“No. After the bashing, when you’d rub my hand because it would seize up so badly. Do you remember?”

Brian turned his head away as much as he could without making the ice pack fall off. “I guess.”

“You’d lay me down—sometimes in bed, sometimes on the couch if it was still too early to sleep, and you’d rub and rub.” He smiled lightly, uncaring of the other man’s callous attitude. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t dealt with a defensive, ornery Brian before. “For minutes, or hours. Didn’t matter. You’d just continue for as long as it took until all the tendons and muscles relaxed. Until you put me right again.” Justin relived the memory with a heavy heart himself, all the times that Brian had steadfastly cared for him in that time of need making him want to grab the other man close and never let him go. For the moment, he somehow refrained. Leaning in so that their faces were close, so that Brian was forced to regard him, Justin murmured, “You’ve been putting me right again for a long time. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.”

Brian blinked at him, but remembered to scowl after only a second’s hesitation. He couldn’t allow himself to show any sign of capitulation here. The kid would just leave again anyways. He was leaving, in only an hour or two. “What are you talking about?” he said, “Did you forget something here? Your shoes? That AIDS movie?—which by the way was completely depressing. Why are you here?”

“Brian—” Justin tried to speak,

“You’ve got a flight to catch Princess.”

“Brian I—”

“So while I appreciate the last ditch attempt at playing nursemaid,”

“Ugh, Brian—”

“I really don’t need your pity or your help. I’m handling all of this well enough on my own. Scout’s honor.” He held up his infamously-incorrect scout’s salute.

“Brian!” Justin had to raise his voice to get a word in edgewise. “The boy scout salute has three fingers! …And I’m not leaving.”

Brian was still pushing him away defensively, refusing to show weakness despite his compromising position. “Yeah right. You’re going to miss your flight. L.A.’s calling, remember?”

Justin tried to impart seriousness into his tone as he said, “ Brian: I remember.”

“I should hope so; you booked it! Don’t come crying to me to reimburse you for the ticket. This is all on you if—

“Brian!” Justin had had enough. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Perhaps his frantically-imploring tone finally caught the other man’s attention, because he quieted enough for Justin to repeat, this time in the most significant voice he could muster, “I. REMEMBER.”

Brian stared, then his eyes slowly widened in comprehension. “Wha? …Shit.”

Justin smirked a little, “Is that all you have to say?”

It wasn’t all he wanted to say, that was for sure. There was shock painted on Brian’s face, but not disbelief, never that. The pained man could tell from the newfound depth to his Sunshine’s eyes, that what he said was true. Gone were the iceberg eyes that held no understanding, now replaced by the love that Brian hadn’t realized he’d so desperately needed, until he’d lost it. Justin was waiting expectantly for what he’d say or do, and Brian licked dry lips trying to think of something, anything else to say. “H—how?” he finally stuttered, baffled as to what could have been the final piece of the puzzle. The puzzle that he himself had been trying to solve for so long.

But the blonde didn’t answer his question. Instead a million-watt smile split Justin’s face, his features crumpling at the edges as if he might cry, too. He exhaled shakily in relief, lowering swiftly to meld their mouths together. Brian was unprepared for the level of unadulterated emotion that was poured into that kiss, but he readily accepted it. Fuck ‘how’, he thought as he struggled to hold the other man’s face close. He could always find that out later.

Justin kissed Brian, feeling his heart swell to near painful proportions. He kissed Brian with all that he had, drowning in the sea of his returned feelings for this person, this one man to whom he wanted to show everything, give everything, be everything. He’d always felt that way, of course, but remembering now was as agonizing as it was wonderful. Their lips crashed in the desperate attempt to communicate what a thousand words couldn’t say fast enough, and Justin sighed in elation because he knew from the prone man’s answering embrace that he understood, that he accepted him back. Everything was going to be okay.

Well, almost everything. As Brian’s motions slowed, the blonde pulled back, sharing breath between them as he smiled in relief. But then he realized that Brian wasn’t smiling back at him. The young man pulled back, frowning at the handsome brunette’s countenance. “Brian?” The lack of response from the other man had Justin blinking in surprise. “Oh, no.”

He’d completely passed out.

---

Justin had helped him to the bed. That’d been the first step after he’d regained consciousness on the living room floor.

Brian lay propped against his pillows, feeling so much better than he thought he would by now. He tried to tidy his hair a little, to smooth out the creases of the tee-shirt Justin had gotten him, before the younger man returned from the bathroom. “You coming Sunshine?” he asked, excited to realize that he’d no longer be chastised for using the old nickname.

“I’m right here.” Justin walked the short distance back to the bed, perching himself on the side of where Brian lay. In his hand he held a glass of water and two aspirin, which he quickly offered over. “Drink,” he urged.

Brian did as told, too wiped out from earlier to complain about being waited on like this. Once he’d set the glass aside, he released a sigh, sinking back into his pillows. Their pillows. “It’s going to happen again,” he said. “In three days, or four.”

“I’ll be here in three days. Or four,” Justin added.

Brian nodded. He had to resist the urge to run a hand up to his neck, where he knew another bite mark had joined the first. “It’ll add up,” he complained, not wanting to imagine himself like the humans he’d seen in Thrall. He was a very public figure, after all. He had an image to maintain.

Justin shrugged. The offer of rehab was still on the table, Brian knew that. “You know how fast it’ll heal. I can bite in exactly the same spot, or find somewhere else on your body…”

Brian raised a haughty eyebrow at the smaller man. “I’ll bet you could.”

“It’s up to you,” Justin concluded, climbing up on the bed to join his newly-regained lover. He laid his head on Brian’s shoulder, aware that the other man probably needed some way to feel superior right about now. Brian had never liked feeling like the one who was out of control in a situation, so Justin kindly put forth, “I know you can handle both. You’re the strongest person I know.” Brian offered no protest to the statement, and Justin smiled fondly.

Brian secretly agreed. No one else would have come this far with such a trial. The tired yet satisfied man pulled his partner to his side, enjoying the feel of his warmth. He almost thought that Justin felt more pliant in his arms, as if regaining his emotional memories had somehow rid him of a tenseness that he’d been holding onto. Brian could literally feel the difference in him. The thought that this was the end of it, that they’d finally reached the conclusion of their largest struggle, made him happier than he’d felt in a long time. “Promise me something,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” Justin slid over, sitting with a leg to either side of Brian’s lap. “What?”

“Stay with me. And don’t leave again,” he breathed, not daring to do more than whisper it against Justin’s lips. The last time he’d implored the vampire to stay, it hadn’t gone so well after all. “Promise.”

Justin’s shoulders sank, his lashes fanned to his cheeks as he closed his eyes. Brian may have thought it looked like internal deliberation, but what it really was, was humor at how easy the request was. The kiss he offered as he leant forward into Brian was gentle, but resolute. “I promise,” he whispered back. “You have no idea how much.”

Brian seemed satisfied by the answer, but Justin was denied his lips a moment longer as the darker man touched their foreheads together. “And I want to hear you say it,” he demanded, asking for the words he’d never understood before. “Say it.”

Justin’s fingers curled against Brian’s shoulder, his lips parting to gladly give what he’d never thought Brian would request. “I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Justin smiled. “I love you, Brian.”

Brian drew him impossibly closer, tighter. “Now, again.” Only this time it was clear that it wouldn’t be said with words. Justin didn’t hesitate, kissing him deeply.

And when Brian reached to pull his shirt off, Justin didn’t stop him, merely lifting his arms. They shed their clothes slowly, as if each layer removed was another barrier peeled away forever. Justin breathed against the shell of Brian’s ear, encouraging him with soft words as their hands sought out each other’s bodies, touching each expanse of skin with newfound reverence. Brian threaded fingers through the hair that would soon need cut again, while Justin kissed apologies to the bite mark he’d made. And it went on and on like that, the silence between them irrelevant, because they were both saying so much despite it.

It was slow, and not at all in their usual style of lovemaking. If he had thought about it before, when he’d been frantically running across the city to reach Brian and tell him, Justin would have guessed that their coming together again would be much the same as that mad dash; frantic, desperate, needy and hurried because of it. But as it turned out, their passion played out as the exact opposite. And for once, Justin was on the same page as Brian when it came to slower being better. In his own way, each man now realized what they had, their time without it making it that much more valuable. And as Brian’s arms wrapped around Justin’s back to guide their bodies together, they knew without speaking that they were in complete agreement.

They would savor this.  

~*~The End~*~