After dropping Nick off to school, Brian suggested they should stop by the diner for breakfast. He hoped to lift Justin's mood, after a phone call from the gallery he expected to have a deal with, telling him they had decided to go with someone else who complimented the main show’s style better. Justin had shown them several paintings of his, all different styles; besides, the gallery never mentioned the main show and who the painter was.

“Would you calm down? Why don’t you pay them a visit and ask about their main show? Maybe your style doesn’t match. It’s not the end of the world,” Brian complained.

“It is the end of the fucking world. At least, I had several paintings in a gallery in New York, which provided a steady income if I didn’t have commissions. Now I have absolutely nothing, and most of the savings have gone into relocating here and finding a school for Nick.”

“And when were you going to tell me you were tight?” Brian snapped, parking in the side alley near the dinner.

“The last thing I need is more loans from you.” Justin jumped out of the Jeep, slamming the door shut. “Look, I appreciate it, but I have to do this on my own.”

“Right. I’ve heard that before,” Brian commented, leading the way to the diner.

“I’m not going to repeat my mistakes. Besides, my days as a successful go-go boy have passed.” Justin plastered a smile on his face when Debbie greeted them at the door. “Good morning, Deb!”

“Hello, Sunshine. I’m impressed. You’re both still alive after living together for, what is it now…two months?”

“About nine weeks,” Justin replied with a smile. “Shit. Excuse me.” He took his ringing phone out of his coat.

“Make Mother Taylor proud in the way she brought you up,” Brian joked, making Justin flip him off, before answering his phone and stepping out of the diner.

“Is everything okay?” Debbie asked, concerned.

Brian shrugged, heading to an empty booth. “He’s trying to find a good gallery. I’m afraid to suggest the Center, but it might be his only option for now.”

“He started by displaying his drawing at the Center,” Debbie reminded him.

“Yeah. He was seventeen, back then. It was his best and only option. He’s thirty-three now, Deb. And I can’t help because I don’t have any connections in the art world.”

“And he wouldn’t accept your help,” she pointed out, looking out the window.

Brian glanced in the direction she was looking. Justin was pacing, gesticulating wildly with a hand, nearly knocking an unsuspecting man in the face. That near accident had him slumping on the rainbow bench, tugging at his hair while continuing his conversation.

“How about breakfast?” Brian suggested. “Just omelet and some coffee.”

“How are things with you two?” Debbie asked softly, standing close to Brian, a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t remember ordering a morning session of therapy.”

“Brian, drop the bullshit.”

“We’re fine. As you already noticed, we haven’t killed each other yet. Funny thing is Nick is trying to hook us up.”

“Even a child can see how much you two thick-heads love each other.” She ruffled his hair, before heading to the kitchen.

Justin stormed inside a few moments later, throwing himself next to Brian. Brian shot him a curious look, because he didn’t expect Justin to sit so close to him so soon. But he scooted closer to the window, which made Justin realize what his instincts had made him do.

“I can’t stay much.”

“I already ordered something. You have to eat. How did it go?”

“This dickhead was amenable to have a meeting between me and his main show artist, who is coincidently going to the gallery in one hour.”

“Do you think you know this guy?”

“It’s supposed to be a new, young sensation. I’m ready to open his eyes about what a sleaze the gallery owner is and that by the time this show is over, he will be forgotten like yesterday’s socks.”

“Justin, just because the owner of this gallery has been an asshole to you, it doesn’t mean he is like that with everyone,” Brian tried to get Justin to think rationally.

“Kindly, stay out of topics you have no clue about. Do you remember how often I called you from New York about some gallery wanting to display me? I didn’t even get to have a show before they kicked me to the curb for a new name.”

“The art world is fickle, but once you make a name for yourself, it’s impossible not to have doors opening for you.”

“Like I said, in some circles. If I were known, do you really think I would have returned here?”

“Yes.” Brian met his eyes, watching as Justin's blue eyes darkened.

“Yes,” Justin agreed. “But more rich and without the fear of becoming a starving artist at the age of thirty.”

“Thirty-three,” Brian said gently.

“Fuck you.”

“I hope you remember that’s what the bathrooms are for. The scene in the diner is very PG rated,” Debbie said, returning with their food.

Justin's cheeks turned pink, as he opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Don’t worry, Deb. We just touched a sensitive subject,” Brian chuckled.

“I hope it wasn’t Justin's dick under the table.”

“Christ. I forgot how chaotic it was to be in the same room with you,” Justin groaned. “Thank you,” he accepted the plate. “And, for your information, my age is not a sensitive subject. I never cared about it.”

“Right,” Brian said doubtfully. “And, it’s not our fault you lived with a prude.”

Justin kicked him under the table. “Ethan wasn’t a prude. He was a sensible person with common sense.”

“Booooring,” Brian yawned.

“I’m sure Brian didn’t want to sound so mean. He knows you’re still grieving,” Debbie said kindly.

“Hello, you started this conversation by suggesting I should take Justin to the bathroom,” Brian pointed out. “And stop making excuses for me. You sound like Saint Joan when she tried to apologize for some of my supposed bad behavior in front of her friends when I was a child. Oh, you have to excuse Brian, he didn’t mean to do that.”

Debbie sat across from them, making the sign of the cross. “I thought you buried your hatred for her when you buried her two years ago.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to puke? I’m trying to eat.”

“What happened?” Justin asked softly. He knew the tense relationship between Brian and his mother, and how despite the tough façade, he was hurt by her rejection about who he is.

“Chronic alcoholism. It runs in family. With such parents, I’ll probably croak before I reach fifty.”

“Don’t say such things,” Justin chided him. “I already buried one husband. I don’t want to experience this again.”

“What did you say?” Debbie gasped. “What have you two done and didn’t tell us?”

Justin cut a piece of his omelet, meeting Debbie’s eyes. “Face it, we’re headed there.”

“To the grave?” Brian laughed.

“To marriage…in the very distant future.”

“Light years away,” Brian supplied, but he smiled at how relaxed Justin was when he spoke of this. Surprisingly, the concept of marrying Justin wasn’t as scary as it once had been. Brian was ready for that step – to create a life and a home with Justin.

“Fuck me,” Justin groaned when his phone buzzed from next to his plate. “I have to go. Later.” He leaned closer to peck Brian's cheek, paused for a moment, then hurried out the door.

“I don’t know what you are hiding, but whatever you’ve done, keep it up,” Debbie said encouragingly.

“We had a chat, and Justin confirmed pretty much everything I believed about his life in New York with the fiddler. Don’t tell the boys, because nothing happened, but like he said earlier, we’re headed there. We’re talking and we plan to make it work this time.”

“I’m so happy, Brian. You both deserve happiness. If you ever need a sitter, I’ll be more than happy to keep Nick for a sleepover.” She winked.

“That kid is clearly Justin's son. He pestered me with questions about whether I liked his dad, and he told me his dad was happier and smiled more since they moved in with me, so he told me I should hook up with his dad.”

Debbie laughed, a light smile lingering on her face. “What’s the plan?”

Brian shrugged, downing his coffee. “Justin slept in our bed last night, but only because Nick kicked him out of the bed in the guestroom. And Nick was overjoyed this morning to hear he was rid of Justin. I can’t say I missed the way he hogs the blanket, but we’ll figure something.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but the boys had a bet about how soon you’d get back together.”

“Of course, they did.”

“No one has won. I think they even lost hope. They expected you to fall into each other’s arms within the week, and the longest timeframe was a month.”

“It’s good to know I keep disappointing everyone.” Brian stood, placing several bills in front of Debbie, more than their meals cost. “I have to be in the office. How long did Theodore bet on our reunion?”

“I think it was two weeks. He joined on their bet later.”

“Good. I’m about to hand him the two weeks’ notice,” Brian said cheerfully, heading out the diner.

All the way to work, Brian thought of what Debbie had said. Both him and Justin deserved happiness, and Brian was sure neither of them had been as happy as when they had been together. They never had the smoothest and best relationship, but they had always been happy.

He found Cynthia in his office, which was not that uncommon. The fact that she had a stack of papers on his desk, was also not something unheard of. But the wary look on her face meant trouble, for sure.

“Morning,” Brian said in greeting, taking a seat in his chair.

“Morning, Brian.”

“What’s here?” He pulled the papers closer. “I had no idea we were hiring,” he said, confused, staring at the bunch of resumes.

“You either find me an assistant to help, or I’m done. And this time I’m not joking,” Cynthia said seriously.

Brian stared at her, worried, over the top of the papers. “Who pissed in your coffee?”

“Since we branched out to Chicago, I’m swamped. It’s a miracle I remembered about your lunch meeting on Friday, since there was no event created in the email calendar.”

“Is this because I sent Jane to Chicago?”

“How did you guess?” she sneered.

“Okay, okay. I see you took the time to select a few resumes. Who do you like?”

Cynthia pulled the papers closer, ruffling through them. “This guy. He’s young, finished college last year. Think about it. I can teach him everything I know, and we’ll be a power team.”

“Zero experience. As you said, you’re swamped. When would you have the time to teach him?”

“He says he’s a quick learner. He can assist in all my daily activities.”

“Cynthia, the quick learner and great team player are the best lies anyone can put in a resume.”

“Please, Brian. It’s worth a shot.”

“All yours. Call him. Talk to Ted. As long as he’s good and does the job, he stays.” Brian opened his laptop, effectively dismissing his assistant.

He should have expected chaos when he sent half of the company over to Chicago. Some of his best people from the Art Department, an account manager, and Jane. She had been Cynthia’s right hand for the past few years, and Brian could see how much Cynthia struggled since Jane had been relocated.

He got sucked in his daily tasks, so when the chair across from his desk scrapped against the floor, he startled, turning to snap at whoever decided to interrupt him.

Justin had a bag of take-out food and a sheepish smile.

“I said ‘hi’, but I figured you were ignoring me.”

“I didn’t hear a thing,” Brian admitted. He glanced at the time on his screen, and was surprised to see it was already one in the afternoon. “How did the meeting go?”

Justin smiled widely, taking a seat and starting to take food out.

“Let’s use the coffee table.” Brian guided him to the couch. His back was stiff for sitting hunched over for hours while he poured over research for his latest advertisement.

“You wouldn’t believe what a small world it is! This guy who has the main show, he’s someone I know.”

“Well, you met quite a few people while you were trying to make it here in Pittsburgh.”

“He wasn’t an artist when we met. At least, I don’t think so. He says I inspired him to become one.” Justin grinned, opening the cardboard boxes containing the best Thai food in town. “You see, he was one of my tricks.”

Brian laughed loudly. “That’s something that never happened to me.”

“Shut up. It was mortifying.” Justin covered his face with his palms. “I went in there thundering, ready to find out who this high and mighty person was. I start complaining, when he stops me and greets me by my name, offering his hand. I didn’t remember his face immediately, but when he asked if I remembered him…it took me a moment.”

“This could only happen to you, I swear.”

Justin dug into one of the boxes, wincing. “I know, that’s exactly what I was thinking. But he’s cool, and he even talked to the gallery owner and the curator about giving me more room to display my art. Now I have to create at least two more paintings to fit the theme.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something. There’s time until June.”

“And I have to visit my favorite store in town. I have to get all the vibrant colors to be able to do these paintings.”

“What’s the theme?” Brian ask, taking a bite from his dish.

“Pride, I already told you, like ten times.”

“And what do you plan to draw? The rainbow flag?” Brian rolled his eyes.

“I thought I only shared my brain with Michael, but of course, Rage has mind-control powers,” Justin laughed.

“It was a joke,” Brian drawled.

“You’ll see. It’s not what you’re thinking, but the painting will represent the rainbow and freedom.”

“Did I ever mention what a scary place your head is?”

“A couple hundred times only.”

Theodore came through the side entrance, not seeing them on the couch. He had his head bent over a piece of paper in his hands. “When do you want this Damien guy? Brian?” Ted looked around, and gasped when he spotted Brian and Justin on the couch, eating and engaged in an easy conversation.

“Hi, Ted,” Justin said, partially swallowing his bite.

“Damien?” Brian repeated, relaxing back on the couch.

Ted waved the paper. “You talked to Cynthia about him. Do you still want him? He’s as inexperienced as they get.”

Brian snorted. “I love virgins, didn’t you know?”

Justin choked on his food, which prompted Brian to thump his back.

“On a serious note, you should ask Cynthia. I only want the job done.”

“You have to do the hiring, not Cynthia. She can be there during the interview, but it’s professional—”

“Spare me. You and Cynthia do it. But I don’t want to hear her complaining about him being too slow or deserting when it gets rough. We both know how many kids we hired, only for them to hand in their resignation in a few weeks or months.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll talk to her. Good to see you, Justin.”

“You too,” Justin called after Ted, who retreated. “That was rude.”

“You’re the only virgin I had,” Brian said seriously.

“I meant about the way you acted as if you didn’t care about your new hire. Though, the comment about virgins was no less rude.”

“Jesus, you’re on a roll today.”

Justin ducked his head. “Too little sleep and too much coffee do wonders to me.”

“Don’t I know it?” Brian cringed. “Do you have to go home early?”

“I’ll go to buy supplies for my paintings then get Nick from school. He has to stay longer today for some group thing. Meet you back here at five?”

“That works. You can take the car. Keys are somewhere on my desk.” Brian waved toward his desk, as he went to the adjoined bathroom.

When he returned, he expected to find Justin gone, but he was standing by his desk, holding a picture frame in his hands. He glanced up when Brian stopped next to him.

It was a picture of the two of them. They didn’t have many pictures together, and that one had been a sample for the wedding.

Justin placed the frame back, taking a shaky breath. “It’s me. I’m afraid I’m going to fuck up, because if you think about it…it’s always been me who broke us up, one way or another.”

Brian cupped his shoulder, bringing him closer, hugging him tightly. “Trust yourself. Forget your insecurities, and have faith.”

“I do,” Justin mumbled.

“I thought we were saving the declarations for many light years away.”

Justin laughed softly, pulling away. “I’ll be back later to pick you up.”