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

** Special Thanks to my wonderful beta **

The Present: October 2014

 

 

Wednesday, October 2014, one month later…

 

 

The coolness of fall with its kaleidoscope of colors had swept away the summer’s heat. The sun was shining with a different, yet deeper intensity, while the darkness was slowly overtaking the brightness, like a creeping hand that slowly drew a path without emitting a single sound. Autumn set in quietly.

 

 

Justin had stopped thinking, concentrating on his work to escape from what his life had become. He hadn’t seen anybody except for his co-workers during the past month, and had purposely shut himself off from the rest of the world. He hadn’t even contacted Emmett or Michael. He woke up every morning, deliberately pushing aside any thoughts that might steer him to a place he was not ready for, and threw himself into his work for hours on end. And the end of each day ended the same way it had begun, with him lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

 

 

This routine didn’t lead him anywhere, not really. He was still struggling to accept the reality of his life, and as a result he had purposely avoided Tyler’s calls for the last couple of weeks, using email instead, with the excuse of being overwhelmed at work. Tyler was a smart man, however, so Justin was sure that he knew that something was going on with him. It wasn’t fair of him to avoid him like he did, especially because his partner hadn’t done anything wrong, but he couldn’t help himself.

 

 

He also knew that it couldn’t last. Whatever the outcome, he needed to get his shit together and decide what he wanted to do. It was a slow process, one full of denial and hesitation, but he was quietly opening up to a truth that he had refused to believe in for a long time, one that he had thought didn’t exist anymore.

 

 

Eventually, the introspection ended after he woke up on a cold Wednesday morning in late October. Justin had received an e-mail while he had been sleeping, and by that evening he had to have read it about a hundred times. As the night settled in for the day, he understood that he needed to stop hiding and confront what he knew to be his reality.

 

 

From: tylsp@gmail.com

To: Jtaylor83@yahoo.com



Subject: answer me



Justin,


I don’t know what’s going on with you. Whatever it is, I know there’s something you’re not telling me, and it’s killing me. I wish you would tell me, and trust me enough not to hide from me. Did I do something wrong? Did something happen to you? I’m worried sick, Justin. Please answer me.

Love you,

Tyler.

 

 

Justin read the message once more, his eyes stopping on those two words.

 

 

Love you.

 

 

Every time he read them, his heart clenched in his chest, and he hated himself for not having realized sooner that he and Tyler had never really had a chance to begin with.

 

 

Sitting on his bed, inhaling and exhaling deeply, he finally grabbed his phone and began to type: Got your mail. I’m sorry I haven’t been available lately. Still overwhelmed at work. I’m fine. Will talk to you on Friday night, I promise.

 

 

Then he hesitated, his finger poised over the letter "L." He closed his eyes and winced, shaking his head in frustration. "Fuck!" He cursed out loud, exasperated with himself. "Just answer him, damn it!" He shouted angrily as he finally finished his message. Before he had time to change his mind, he pressed the ‘send’ button, watching the uploading processing until its end.

 

 

He kept staring at the final words of the message he’d just sent for a long moment before locking his cell.



Later. J.





 

Thursday, Kinnetik…

 

 

Justin hesitated as he stood in front of the main door of the building. Looking at the address on the business card he was holding in his hand, he stared back at the entrance as he took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop racing so fast. He had walked all the way here, taking an early lunch break from work, and hoping that the cold air hanging over this cloudy morning would soothe his silent excitement and nervousness.

 

 

Checking his phone – it was 12:25 p.m. – he took the time to consider the possibility that he wouldn’t be there at all, not sure if he would feel relieved or disappointed if that happened. Still, he hadn’t come here to stand outside the door, even if the idea held an undeniable appeal at the moment.

 

 

He entered the lobby of his former’s lover advertising company, and his eyes swept around the area, taking in the one-of-a-kind atmosphere emanating from the place. He paused briefly before walking over to the receptionist’s desk, where a petite brunet was sitting as she tapped frantically on a keyboard. He planted himself in front of her, her hands stilling as she peered up at him through her glasses.

 

 

"Good morning, Sir. May I help you?" She inquired in a polished, professional tone.

 

 

"I’d like to see Brian…" Noticing her frown, he hastily added, "I mean, Mr. Kinney,"

 

 

"I’m sorry, Sir; but if you don’t have an appointment, I’m afraid it won’t be possible," the woman replied dryly with a fake smile.

 

 

"Could you just tell him that Justin Taylor wants to see him? It’s important," Justin insisted, hoping the woman would just somehow agree to his request without any further questioning.

 

 

Unfortunately, however, she was Brian’s receptionist for a reason, as Justin was about to find out. "I’m sure it won’t make any difference, Mr. Taylor. Mr. Kinney is extremely busy."

 

 

"Please…Mary? It’s Mary, isn’t it?" Justin hoped to woo the woman, but she seemed totally impervious to his charms.

 

 

"You can read a nametag just fine, as I can see. But as I said…" She began to reply, her voice assuming a more clipped, irritated tone.

 

 

"Justin?" Someone called out to him and he turned his head to meet two big, brown eyes staring back at him in disbelief. Justin was as surprised as the other man was. He hadn’t seen Ted Schmidt in a long time, and hadn’t even been aware that he was working with Brian.

 

 

"Ted?"

 

 

The man’s face broke out into a smile before looking nervously behind him. He peered back at Justin and murmured, "What are you doing here?"

 

 

"I... well…" Justin didn’t really know how to answer. But he didn’t have the time to finish his sentence anyway, because it was at that moment that he saw Brian walking towards them, his head down as he studied some file in his hand.

 

 

"Theodore, you said you had some papers about…" Brian looked up when he arrived in the lobby and his words died in his throat as his gaze fell upon his ex. Justin could see the shock on his face that was quickly replaced by his familiar mask of indifference.

 

 

"Hi, Brian," Justin greeted him almost bashfully, fully aware of the questioning looks that both Mary and Ted were sporting on their faces, albeit for different reasons.

 

 

He had to admit that Brian didn’t seem really pleased to see him. He stared at Justin with an indecipherable gaze, and Justin could have sworn that the air had suddenly filled with an electric glow.

 

 

"My office…now," Brian ordered curtly, breaking eye contact. Turning to address his receptionist, he instructed her firmly, "Mary, hold any calls."

 

 

"Yes, Brian," she responded curiously, her eyes travelling from her boss to this stranger with undisguised interest.

 

 

Justin followed Brian to a large room in the left corner of the building. The office seemed cold, without any warm colors; yet, the white and glass furniture highlighted the original character of the ancient elements that still remained from its former use. Entering, Justin sensed Brian’s touch all around him, and he paused as he watched Brian heading toward an impressive white desk situated immediately to his right without a second glance toward him. Brian sat down behind the desk and pressed the intercom, his face not betraying anything, while Justin closed the door behind him and waited, gazing over quietly at the wall in front of him. He froze.

 

 

Brian didn’t notice. "Ted, have those papers ready by one thirty. I need to call Mr. Grant back by two," he ordered sternly, before hitting the button to end their conversation.

 

 

Brian didn’t know what Justin was doing here. To say that he was surprised to see him now standing in the middle of his office was an understatement. A month had passed since that night at Woody’s, and he had thought that Justin had finally come to his senses and understood that there was no place for him in his life.

 

 

To gain some time to compose himself, he went through the pretense of arranging his desk, trying to prepare himself for the conversation to come. He could have dismissed Justin altogether, but he hadn’t. He cursed himself inwardly for that moment of weakness. He allowed a few seconds to pass before he gazed up at Justin, suddenly realizing that his former boyfriend was looking at the wall in front of him.

 

 

He cursed once more.

 

 

Justin was mesmerized by the painting. He hadn’t seen it in a long time, and wondered briefly why Brian had kept it, let alone displayed it. But then, it just was another reminder that Brian had never acted like everyone expected him to.

 

 

"You’re here to admire the décor?" He heard Brian comment sarcastically, the tone of his voice bringing him back to reality. Peering over at him, he noticed that Brian was glaring at him, his jaw tight.

 

 

"I didn’t think you still had it," he said as nonchalantly as he could, nodding at the wall.

 

 

Brian followed his gaze and drawled, "It’s a painting. It’s meant to be displayed on a wall, isn’t it?"

 

 

"Hmm…I suppose so," Justin slowly agreed. But he wasn’t fooled. He knew Brian too well, so he realized that keeping the gift he had given him so long ago held some significance, maybe even a confirmation on Brian’s part that something was unresolved, unfinished, between them. He decided not to push the issue, though, because he feared that his ex would just put an end to their encounter before it even began.

 

 

Just as Justin suspected, if he could read Brian’s mind at the moment he would realize that he was right. Brian knew he was full of shit. That painting was the first one Justin had offered to him. He still remembered that day, the smile on his lover’s face as he had carefully tore apart the wrapping paper. Justin had been so deliriously happy.

 


"You like it?" Justin asked bashfully.



"It’s a good first attempt," Brian responded, his lips turning upwards.



"Fuck you! It’s genius!" Justin punched him lightly on the arm and Brian couldn’t help but chuckle wholeheartedly.



"I’m fucking a princess," Brian proclaimed melodramatically, as Justin began to tickle him. "Stop it!" He laughed as he placed the painting on the floor.



"Take that back!" Justin commanded.


 

"No…" Brian succeeded in grabbing Justin’s wrists and flipped him over on the couch, his body holding Justin prisoner. His eyes darkened as he purred purposely, "I prefer to take you. All of you…" Soon, they were engrossed in a hot making-out session, the painting quickly forgotten.

 

 

 

 

 

Brian shook his head as he refocused back on the present. Now was not the time to relive old memories. He stared back at Justin and asked the only question that came to his mind. "So, Mr. Taylor…What the fuck are you doing here?" Brian enunciated the words slowly, making sure that Justin wouldn’t miss the dangerous edge to his voice.

 

 

"I needed to ask you a question," Justin announced firmly, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through his body over what he was about to do.

 

 

He had eventually made up his mind. Tyler’s e-mail had been a trigger, this little push he had needed to finally acknowledge, and more importantly accept, what he knew to be the truth. Actually, he had unconsciously refused to listen until he had read his partner’s plea the day before. The situation was such a mess, of course; yet no one else but he could change that. At last he was ready to deal with the consequences, even if he was perfectly aware that he could wind up being completely alone in the end. But he didn’t care anymore. Anything was better than continuing to lie to the people who cared about him. He owed them the truth. He owed himself the truth, even if he was scared shitless to face it. Yet, he was no cheater, and he would not let his fear overtake his life.

 

 

Never again.

 

 

So, here and now he was going to admit that he had never forgotten the man standing in front of him. The truth was, however, Justin didn’t know if he could salvage anything from their years together. It was probably too late, their chances gone just like so many others who couldn’t let go and insisted on grabbing onto hopes and false pretenses. But he would take anything, whether it was a rare moment or two in Brian’s life or a more permanent one. He knew that he just couldn’t hide anymore; he had already done that for far too long.

 

 

Brian, on the other hand, didn’t understand. Justin needed to ask him a question? About what? And why? It’d been eight years, EIGHT years without a single word from him, for Christ’s sake, and now, out of the blue, even when he had made it clear during that recent encounter that he didn’t want to discuss it anymore, he decides that he needs to talk?

 

 

He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell him to get the hell out of here. To scream at him. To let those eight years of loss erupt from within him, creating chaos and a definite conclusion to the "Brian and Justin show." But another part of him wanted to apologize, to take back the hurtful, cruel words he had said the night they had ended their relationship.

 

 

Brian knew it was his fault. He had lost the only man he had ever been in love with – yes, he could recognize love when he felt it, even if he had always pretended otherwise – because he had purposely let Justin go, had pushed him so far, so hard, that he had never stood a chance. That was the only reason why he was going to allow Justin to ask his questions now. He owed him that. But he wasn’t going to make it easy, either.

 

 

"Oh…And what would it be?" He responded with a smirk, bracing himself for Justin’s questions while keeping busy by arranging some sheets of paper on his desk. Finally he ceased his paper shuffling, resting his hands together on top of his desk as he waited, listening as the silence dragged on for several seconds.

 

 

Justin’s throat felt too dry. He could hear his unspoken words hanging in the air between them; he hadn’t realized until now how hard it would be for him to speak them aloud. He shivered slightly before quietly asking, "Do you ever regret what we had?"

 

 

The question resonated loudly in the air. Brian’s hands stilled suddenly. He didn’t answer, didn’t look at Justin at all.

 

 

Fuck you.

 

 

"Look at me," Justin ordered quietly. Brian resisted at first, but he finally obeyed. Gazing up, he noticed how calm Justin appeared, even if he suspected that he was anything but.

 

 

Brian shook his head. "You know how I feel about that. Regrets are a waste of time. What’s done is done," he said coolly, his inner self sneering at him because of his cowardice. He felt a pang in his chest, though, when he saw the furtive flash of hurt in Justin’s eyes.

 

 

Justin snorted. "So, that’s it. You still prefer to pretend that you don’t care."

 

 

Brian wanted to deny those words, but he refrained. What would be the point? The past was the past, and there was nothing he could do to change it. His heart raced, however, when Justin added, "Hell, did you ever?"

 

 

Brian sighed. His mind went blank. He had no idea how to deal with the situation without betraying himself. So, he didn’t move, didn’t say a word, and just waited for Justin’s next strike.

 

 

He didn’t have to wait for long, but he was definitely not prepared for Justin’s next announcement. "I’m going to break up with Tyler."

 

 

"What?"

 

 

"You heard me," Justin stated, his eyes never leaving Brian’s.

 

 

Brian was at a loss. What was Justin getting at? What did he want from him? The fact that he obviously felt like he needed to share this news with him had to mean something. But what? Their relationship had ended so many years ago. Brian would be completely insane to think that they had still a chance at…something. Did he even really want Justin back in his life? Sure, he had loved him. He still did, he always would. But he suspected Justin’s state of mind had more to do with him dealing with a case of nostalgia than anything else. They had shared so much here. Those years when they had become men, they’d experienced them together, becoming adults and dealing with their past together. It was impossible to forget that bond. Its reminder was…impregnated, branded inside of them.

 

 

However, it didn’t mean that the connection was supposed to last. Life happened, swept away and destroyed bonds every day. It was fucked-up, sure. But life was fucked-up. They both had learned that lesson at a very young age, and Brian had never forgotten.

 

 

So, he didn’t answer. Didn’t show any signs of relief. Didn’t even dare allow his mind to feel remotely happy. He just stared at Justin, who looked back at him, the flicker of expectation quickly dying in his eyes.

 

 

Brian was aware of what he would think of his silence. That he was an asshole, because it could only mean that he didn’t care about what Justin was going through.

 

 

Still, Brian was wrong. Justin had expected him to appear totally closed-off. After their last encounter at Woody’s, it would have been stupid to imagine that it would be easy to sneak in under the wire again.

 

 

Truthfully, Justin was playing with fire. He knew Brian cared. He had changed a lot during the passing years; that much was obvious. But, conversely, he didn’t know how to make him react without challenging him and pushing him as far as he could. Maybe he was wrong to play him like he was. But he needed for him to open up, even if all he would earn would be Brian’s wrath. So, he laughed bitterly. He glared at Brian, preparing himself for the storm he was about to create.

 

 

"You really haven’t changed at all," he declared disdainfully.

 

 

He saw the flicker of anger coming alive in Brian’s eyes, but the man didn’t answer as he expected him to do. He merely snarled, "What the fuck do you want me to say? You want to break up with your perfect boyfriend? I think it’s a mistake, but I already know you won’t listen to me. So what exactly do you expect from me?"

 

 

Justin pushed, "Don’t you want to know why?"

 

 

"I know why," Brian snorted. "You came back here, and for a reason I don’t quite understand, you let nostalgia fuck with your head."

 

 

"Nostalgia? You think I’m here because of fucking nostalgia???" Justin retorted, astounded. How could Brian dismiss him so easily? Did he really believe that his conflicted feelings over his current situation were just due to something as simple as nostalgia? And more importantly, how dare he reduce their past relationship to something so trivial?

 

 

Brian understood immediately that he had struck a nerve. But fuck, he couldn’t let Justin mess with his head. "Yes! Nostalgia! What else?" He snapped, walking over to where Justin was standing. He stopped right in front of him and retorted, "Do you really think there is anything else left from that time?" That was a low blow, even for him, but he didn’t care.

 

 

Justin had heard enough. Brian’s anger was palpable, his usually graceful facial features transforming into a mask of hard, cold lines, and Justin flinched under his hurtful words. He felt the electricity flooding through his body, filling his veins. "You’re the one who pushed me away because you weren’t man enough to deal with your shit! So, fuck you, Brian! Fuck you for dismissing everything we had! For being such a coward and letting me leave you! Just fuck you!" Justin shouted, unable to prevent years of anger and regret from finally prevailing. He was breathing heavily, his eyes blazing.

 

 

Brian glared at him, Justin’s words stabbing him forcibly. He leaned closer to Justin’s face, his breath caressing his former lover’s skin. "There. Feel better now? You’ve said your piece, and reinforced the fact that I’m the worst asshole you have ever met, so why don’t you just get the hell out of my office and forget you ever met me?" Brian spat back, cursing inwardly when he heard the edge in his voice. As much as he wanted to hide how painful Justin’s words were ringing in his ears, he was failing miserably.

 

 

They both glared daggers at each other, both consumed by anger and unresolved emotions. The atmosphere inevitably shifted at that moment, and Justin would never really know why he acted the way he did after hearing Brian’s reply. Sure, he could have chosen to listen to the hurtful words Brian was spewing, but all he could focus on were Brian’s eyes.

 

 

He placed his hand on the back of Brian’s head and didn’t even give him time to blink before he smashed their lips together. Brian didn’t respond immediately, but as soon as he got over his surprise, he pushed Justin against the nearby wall and attacked him just as fervently. It was raw, brutal. Gone was any gentleness from their memories. Here and now, years of yearning, regret and pain melted into a sexual energy so intense that neither man could prevent it.

 

 

Brian latched onto Justin’s neck as he purposely grazed his hand against his covered cock. Justin groaned, but he needed to feel Brian, to feel his lips on his again. He grabbed Brian’s head once again and Brian readily surrendered as he invaded his mouth; soon he was gasping when Justin began to rub against him.

 

 

They were lost. One, initial touch of their lips, and it was already too late for them. They both knew they would not come back from this, nor could they ignore it. The past and the present were entwining together in one single moment of abandon.

 

 

Their tongues danced together. The more it lasted, the more they reveled in the feel of their hands on each other as each touch became more insistent, their orgasm approaching so close, so fast, they couldn’t do anything but let the pleasure overtake every fiber of their being; let it take them to a place from which they wouldn’t be able to come back unscarred.

 

 

Both men breathed hard against each other’s lips. Suddenly, Justin came so hard he couldn’t control his moan, which in turn triggered Brian’s orgasm as he cried out, feeling his cock exploding in his pants.

 

 

They stayed there, Brian’s hands falling by his side as Justin lowered his head onto Brian’s shoulder. Neither man moved. Their breathing slowly evened out as they stood there in the silence. No words, no sounds filled the air anymore.

 

 

At last, Brian stepped back, his eyes locking with blue ones, and Justin felt his breath catch in his throat once more. Fear began to grip him like an iron fist as Brian slowly retreated back into his protective shell.

 

 

"Get out…" Brian whispered.

 

 

"Brian…"

 

 

"Please…" Brian insisted, his eyes pleading for Justin to leave.

 

 

Justin nodded slowly, his throat closing up.

 

 

He went to the adjacent bathroom, leaving Brian on his own. When he returned, Brian was still standing in the same spot where he had left him. He hesitated before eventually heading towards the door. He paused to peer over at Brian, who looked back at him silently before he turned the handle and walked out.

 

 


 

 

Unsurprisingly, Brian left his office early that day.

 

 

He went to the gym. He rarely used the punching bag, but the release of anger he felt as he hit his gloved hands against the hard surface over and over again was welcome. He needed to get it out. All of it.

 

 

He continued until he felt drained enough to stop momentarily. Even then, he still felt this restlessness refusing to let go of him completely; but at least he didn’t feel the uninvited bad energy flooding his veins anymore.

 

 

He didn’t know what to do. Hell, he didn’t know what to think. Justin’s revelations earlier today had been totally unexpected, leaving him feeling completely helpless. For such a long time he had truly believed that his former lover had forgotten all about him, drawing a line on their past relationship without a single regret. Brian surely would have deserved it.

 

 

But no. Once more, Justin had persevered, not allowing Brian to act as if they meant nothing to each other, although he had been slow in confronting him about it. Eight years to call him on his bullshit was a long time.

 

 

Brian couldn’t help but think that Justin was completely insane. Well, accepting the kind of relationship they’d already shared was actually proof enough that his diagnosis was already established. He was breaking up with his boyfriend? Why? Because of him? Did he really believe that expected heartaches and failed attempts would be better than staying committing to a loving – and uncomplicated – boyfriend?

 

 

The most astounding thought running currently in Brian’s mind was the fact that Justin could actually have faith in him, in them. How could he? What did he see now that makes him want to take such a risk, to jeopardize everything he had fought for in the last eight years?

 

 

Moreover, how fair would it be? Brian appears in the picture and, bang! Justin feels like he has to give up everything in exchange for the memory of a time that might as well have never really existed? Had he ever been truly happy with him?

 

 

The old Brian would have said fuck this shit. Justin would be better off without him, anyway, so there was been no point at all in dwelling on it. He should have told him in no uncertain terms that he was completely crazy to believe that they still had something to fight for; he should have ordered him to move on, and to stop deluding himself, emphasizing that it would be a lot easier – and less painful – to just look the damn definition up in Webster’s and grow up, because this particular type of fantasy didn’t exist in real life.

 

 

Oh, yes, he should have said it all, and then he would have licked the wounds he’d inflicted upon himself by dragging his best friend out to enjoy some nightly exploits.

 

 

But he was not that man anymore. Understanding that it wasn’t his place to control what people thought or felt had taken him long enough. Everybody was free to make stupid mistakes, and he certainly knew a thing or two about that.

 

 

He would allow Justin to come back in his life if he really wanted to. He wouldn’t resist him – well, not too much, anyway - even if he doubted that they would ever succeed in restoring a true friendship. Brian didn’t believe that they could ever recover what they’d lost, although the sexual attraction that still existed between them wouldn’t help. But there was nothing he could do to avoid it. Today was a perfect example of that; just a taste of Justin’s touch upon him, and it had felt like a blinding spark. At least, some things hadn’t changed.

 

 

If only that thought was more comforting.

 

 




Sunday, Three days later, Pittsburgh International Airport...

 

 

The plane landed on the runway on a rainy Sunday night, reinforcing Justin’s melancholy. The Boeing 737 taxied to the gate and stopped, but Justin remained in his seat, waiting for the rush of impatient passengers to disembark first. Looking through the window, he noticed airport employees guiding another plane in, and he focused on the fluorescent lines of their clothing as they led another jet to the adjacent gate.

 

 

Justin had told Tyler everything. He had taken off on Thursday night, his boss having agreed to grant him a day off on Friday, and had arrived in Italy on a surprisingly warm afternoon. When he saw Tyler, he had become worried that he wouldn’t be strong enough to do what he had to do. Tyler had been so happy to see him standing there at the door of the apartment they’d shared together. Still, he had immediately noticed that something was wrong. Justin hadn’t smiled, hadn’t taken him in his arms. He had just stood there, looking sad and defeated.

 

 

Tyler hadn’t cried. But he had yelled. He didn’t understand; how could he? Justin was throwing away two years of happiness, and for what? For another man, one that had already shattered his heart once? How could he do that? It didn’t make any sense. Furthermore, how could he be so calm about the whole thing? The more Justin had talked, the more Tyler had understood that there was nothing he could say to change his mind. He couldn’t believe how wrong he had been to give his heart to this man.

 

 

He had been so angry, so fucking angry. How could Justin be so stupid? If he really had been in love with this Brian guy all these years, why hadn’t he realized it sooner? Surely it was a mistake, and Tyler had tried with all his might to convince Justin that he was wrong.

 

 

But Justin hadn’t caved. He should have hated himself for what he had done to Tyler, but in the end, it was better this way. Of course, he would have preferred to have realized that he was still in love with Brian sooner; that way, even if they never found their way back to each other again, he wouldn’t have had the inclination to commit himself to another man when their story felt so unfinished. But whatever the outcome would be, he still needed to try, to give them a chance to repair what had been broken eight years ago. Deep down, he had known all along. Yet he had wanted so hard to deny it, and to believe that he could fall in love again.

 

 

He had loved Tyler. He wouldn’t have followed him to Europe, leaving his family and friends behind, if he hadn’t been convinced at the time that they could have a future together. Tyler was a smart, loving man, and he deserved to find someone who would love him like he should be loved.

 

 

But that man wasn’t Justin. They never would have lasted. Maybe if they had met at another time, they could have made it. If Justin had been brave enough not to run away eight years ago, who knows if he wouldn’t have moved on by now? Maybe then their lives would have taken a different path, and Justin would not be in love with his first love anymore. He would have met Tyler and never let him go.

 

 

It didn’t matter. Tyler hated him. Justin had seen the anger in his eyes, the glimpse of disgust over what he had considered a betrayal. Tyler didn’t believe him when he had told him he hadn’t planned on any of this happening when he had moved back to Pittsburgh. When he tried to apologize and tell Tyler how sorry he was, he had laughed at his words, and Justin had let him.

 

 

There were not any sweet goodbyes. Tyler had ordered him to get out, shouting awful words at Justin, reflecting those of a heartbroken man. Justin had not fought him, whispering a last apology before closing the door and walking away. The only consolation was that Tyler could stay in Italy now. Justin knew he had fallen in love with that country. Now, he had no reason to leave anymore.

 

 

Sighing, he finally stood up and grabbed his bag from under the seat before walking off the plane.

 

 

 

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