AT THE END by Ilo

When you're away, I'm feeling empty/ I lose my mind/ But when you're around, I take

for granted/ Most of our time

Honey you say that I'm cold/ And sometimes I'm out of control/ Baby, you know how I

am, at the end, you're always mine

Written by Markus Moser, Nadia Ali

•  Copyright © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Prologue

Brian

Why the fuck would he do that to me? Why? Did I really deserve that amount humiliation, especially in front of all of them? I could almost feel them laughing and pointing saying that I was warned and I finally got what I deserved... A broken heart.

And yet, I know that I pushed and pulled and prodded and that he was bound to rebel. It's not even that it's ‘just his way' as I had been led to believe over and over again. It was more than that. I could see it in his eyes as we stared at each other from across the vast dance floor of Babylon- a kingdom now divided because of a few reckless acts and this huge one bourne of selflessness and self-preservation. I can see out of the corner of my left eye, Michael dancing, rhythmically-challenged as usual; all the while rolling his eyes and with the ever-present scowl on his face.

I honestly wonder what he feels he has to gain from this public breakup of a heretofore unacknowledged relationship. I know that he has finally gotten his wish in so many ways, and yet I am powerless to stop it. He should have been happy and preoccupied enough with Ben to mind his own fucking business. Am I angry with him? Hell yes, I am!

Regardless of what he says verbally, his actions always tell a different story. Emmett and Ted are too engrossed with each other and are missing the silent, staring showdown in the middle of the dancefloor. I'm sure that Mikey won't be able to keep the details of it to himself, even before being asked about what actually happened. As always, he will give more of his opinions, stating them as facts and somehow one of the actual participants of this drama will once again, end up the villain in his extremely biased point of view. It's a surety that it won't be me.

As for Mel and Lindz, they are completely oblivious, as they should be. They are enjoying a rare Gus-free night. I'm also sure they will hear about it before anyone can order coffee in the morning- once again from someone who really knows NOTHING, but tends to think he knows everything. I really wonder if Ben makes him wear a fucking muzzle during sex. Perhaps I'll suggest that to him someday.

But right now... Now, I just have to get through this time- this moment -when my life feels like it is being snatched from me once again. Last time it was at the crack of a bat; this time, in the form of mixed feelings, and signals, and confirmations of nothingness. How could he not know this would happen eventually? How could I not know?

Everything is so fucked up! And this time, it doesn't seem like there is any way forward- or in our case, backwards- from this abyss of uncertainity we've just fallen head first into. 

Justin

The irony in all of this is that I felt the mistake I was about to make the minute I stepped out of the backroom. This is not a new rodeo, for either of us. Things happen, people change, and yet here we are once again, at an impasse. All roads are leading in different directions, no matter how much we don't want them to. I want what I want and he just- I don't know- wants something different?

But when will he learn that different doesn't always mean better? As I feel my heart breaking looking into his eyes from across the club, I know within myself that we have to get off this merry-go-round. It's killing both of us in different ways; killing the people we are growing to be in our own rights. But that doesn't stop the pain coursing through me right now, doesn't keep me from wishing that I could rewind time. It doesn't stop me from knowing that it's over- that we're over.

For something that should have never begun in the first place, I have to say that even with all the ups and downs, we've had an amazing run. My life has changed for knowing him, and behind the sadness and love, I can see that his has too, even if it's not for the better right now. Why the fuck am I doing this? Why am I throwing all of what we have away like it was yesterday's trash? I don't know.

Maybe we'll find a way back to each other or maybe not. I just want him to be happy. The hardest part of loving someone is freeing them. And this is fucking hard, so fucking HARD!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*ADLS

Brian and Justin separated that night, each wrapped up in his own thoughts. Things weren't perfect, but the decision was made in the quiet hours of the night before. Alone together in bed without outside interference, words, or even sex to distract him, and just being held within the strong arms he knew so well, Justin had made his decision to stay with Brian. It wasn't made out of obligation, but some deep-seeded hope that maybe he and Brian could redefine what they had; that they could transform the moments of silence and angst into what was once shared laughter or the talks about everything and nothing they had shared many times over the course of the past two years. He was convinced that Michael was wrong, that Brian was able to feel love and give it in return.

‘That's not Brian' was Michael's favorite mantra.

The thing that Justin still couldn't understand was why he had chosen to confide in the man. A man, who seemed to make it his life's mission during his and Brian's first year together to break them up. It wasn't as if Michael had changed all that much. He'd still made his snide comments about Justin, or meted out his unsolicited advice and innuendos in Brian's direction at every turn. But to Justin, at some of his most vulnerable points in reference to Brian, he'd chosen to go to the one person who seemed to be an expert on the action/reaction theory of Brian Kinney.

But why? What the fuck was wrong with him?! There were so many unanswered and unanswerable questions in this whole puzzle. He needed a break to get off the constant treadmill of uncertain thoughts and almost-impossible dreams, to think and try to make sense of all the jumbled wants and wishes. And then there was Ethan, saying all the things that Justin needed to hear from Brian; whispering words of love that he longed to hear from the man he knew inside and out.

Or at least he thought he did, until tonight.

Ethan was spouting some fucking drivel about Beethoven, but Justin's mind was still on what he'd seen in the backroom. Brian was fucking ‘Rage' on the night that was supposed to be theirs, on one of the most emotionally driven nights of Justin's life. His story was out there for the world to read and enjoy, while for Justin it was his constant nightmare in many ways. Yes, Michael was right to use it- the story was definitely compelling in its own right- but it was HIS. Michael didn't rewrite history... it was HIS STORY, Justin and Brian's history, and it didn't seem to matter to anyone but him.

The tears he felt prickling behind his eyes must have shown because the next thing he knew, Ethan was eating his mouth. Justin responded in kind because in that moment, Ethan was a warm willing person, willing to comfort him. And since his partner was off fucking, Justin decided to take what he could get at the moment. Ethan stopped, a look of triumph momentarily in his eyes as they shifted over Justin's left shoulder. Justin knew what had caught Ethan's attention even before he turned around.

His eyes locked with his lover as Brian took off the mask, hurt and sadness etched in the hazel orbs he knew so well. Justin wanted to run away screaming, to go to Brian and yell at him or to just go home and communicate with Brian the only way they both knew how. But none of those actions were possible. Justin's feet felt glued to the spot. But what made the ultimate decision for Justin was seeing Michael, rolling his eyes at him while Brian remained oblivious to the look of contempt on his best friend's face.

It was always that way with Michael, and Justin needed to get away from there before he did something they would all regret. So, lowering his eyes, he turned away from the man he loved, in favor of the one who said he loved him. It didn't matter that Justin's heart broke a little more with every step he took in the opposite direction; didn't matter that it shattered as he fucked Ethan faced-down into the mattress when they arrived at Ethan's hovel. Nothing mattered anymore, except the feeling of relieved numbness that overtook him as he came in the condom embedded in Ethan's ass, and released the last of the tears he could afford to cry over Brian Kinney. It was done and a new chapter of his story was being written, whether he liked it or not.  

In possibly the most selfless act Brian Kinney could have ever made, he disregarded Justin's decision to stay with him and be miserable. He sacrificed his own happiness to see the light shine in Justin's eyes again; for Justin to once again find the spark that made him Sunshine. Even then, Brian was hoping that maybe one day he would actually be there to witness it come back. It wasn't that he didn't believe in Justin, or that he thought Justin was staying out of obligation. He just knew that Justin wasn't at peace.

He needed to get away from it all, but where would he go? Justin's friends were his friends, and all appropriated by default and close proximity to Brian himself. He couldn't go back to Jennifer and not be mothered to death. Daphne was living in the dorms and concentrating on school. Besides, she had a new group of friends outside of Justin, so where would Sunshine fit into that?

The only one Brian would have reasonably trusted to understand Justin was Lindsay. But now she was out of the question for so many other reasons, primarily because of her part in introducing Justin to the chin rat. Yes, he held her and Michael to blame, but no more than himself. Brian was like that. He would often let them live in their delusions of being right because it boosted their self-esteem and made them feel good about themselves for being ‘right.'

But in this case, they were wrong. Dead wrong! This was not Justin's fault. Okay, some of it was, but Justin had a lot of fucking help from him, too. The non-communication was oppressive, even for him.

If they weren't fucking, they were fighting, with or without words. The monosyllabic questions about dinner, or Vanguard, or homework; the slammed cabinet doors or fridge; the ignorance of attention-seeking behaviors on both their parts, all the while avoiding the big pink elephant in the room is what tore Brian and Justin apart. Justin was the type that needed words to know his place in life. He didn't use to need them, but since the bashing, all of the insecurities that Justin had never had or had repressed came floating to the surface with a vengeance. There were times when Justin would stare at himself in the mirror for over half an hour, looking for what, Brian didn't know, but it was important.

He was probably wondering where the ‘Justin' he knew had gone, much like Brian did on a pretty regular basis when he looked at the young stranger who now inhabited his Sunshine's body. He engaged in the same type of introspection on some days, although he'd never admit it aloud to anyone. It usually happened after an altercation with his mother or Debbie. Justin's self-esteem was wrapped up in this misguided notion of perfection; Brian could relate to that somewhat, since it was how people- including his supposed best friends- defined him as well. Whereas Justin was born with it all- talent, looks, and money- Brian had cultivated it, had carved it out for himself from being dirt poor.

He could now understand how Justin would feel having those things which he valued in himself taken away and not given back through verbal validation. Brian worked excessively so that no one could take his hard-won reputation, both in business and in pleasure, away from him; so that regardless of being loved or hated, Brian would always be admired. Would that he had seen the comparison when his lover was still standing right in front of him, this whole episode wouldn't have happened. But it did, and now it was time to pick up the pieces and move on. 

Brian sped off in his jeep while hearing Michael whine his name incessantly. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone! Michael had gotten what he'd been trying to get all along- or so he thought. Justin was gone, and the last thing Brian needed to hear was another round of Michael's list of grievances against Justin. Just fucking once, he would like to live in his own delusion- the one where Justin would actually be waiting at the loft for him to get home so they could finally fucking talk, after they fucked the anger out of each other, of course.

But it was too late.

Justin had gone with the fiddler and Brian couldn't bring himself to enter that place where he and Justin had spent so many nights in a manner that no one knew about but them. Talking about everything and nothing, singing and dancing, curled up on the sofa watching some stupid brain cell-frying show that Justin loved, or an old movie of Brian's; that was who they were. It wasn't all sex. There was love and a kind of magic, too. And it was fucking gone; he'd seen to that.

Pulling into the parking lot of the William Penn hotel, Brian requested his usual suite hoping beyond hope that it was unreserved. After handing over his credit card information and requesting concierge service, Brian settled into the room with the lights off. The last time he had been in the room was just after he and Justin had started having sex again. There was a Jacuzzi in the bathroom that could fit six, which he and Justin made good use of. Grabbing the requisite bottle of Beam and stepping out onto the balcony, Brian wondered what Justin was doing- no need to think about ‘whom'.

Not for the first time that night, Brian wondered just what the fuck he was doing. Before he knew it, pain sliced through him at the thought that it was fucking over between him and Justin. Brian settled into one of the deck chairs, placing the bottle on the table as he tried to keep the stinging behind his eyes at bay. He was no longer used to being completely alone. Justin had taken those empty places inside of him and filled them with his sunshine smile, lithe body, sharp mind, and no bullshit approach to life.

Where had that all gone? Why wasn't he enough? All of Brian's own insecurities- the ones Justin wouldn't allow to touch him- came roaring back as if their long hiatus gave them the right to torment him. He had to find a way to stop the metaphorical bleeding even as he sat there, feeling like his life support had been cut off. He would get through this; he had to.

But how was the ultimate question.