Brian felt it when Justin slid out from underneath him in bed, the loss of contact and warmth immediate and pronounced.  Even though it had only been a few seconds, his absence and even his ability to smell him were already immense and painful.  

He could hear him quietly moving around the loft soon afterward, and hear the sound of the water rushing in the shower and the smell of fresh coffee from the kitchen.  He could imagine each movement that Justin made as he gathered all his things to leave.  Meanwhile, however, he remained motionless.  He could not bear to look at Justin or even talk to him.  He just couldn't.  He would not have the strength to watch him leave, to say goodbye, or send him to the airport so he could depart for New York and out of his life.  Brian could only be silently thankful when Justin chose, instead, to have a taxi take him to the airport, rather than asking him to drive him.  Damn!  What he really wanted to do was quit being a coward, stop pretending to be asleep, pull Justin into his arms before he slipped out of his home and his life and ask him, instead, to stay.  Stay with him and not go.  Forget New York. But he couldn't do it.

He knew it was Justin's chance of a lifetime, or so Lindsay had said, as she showed him the article and convinced him that it was necessary for Justin to do this, to be seen and noticed, to make the right contacts in order to properly structure his career.

Mel had also indicated the same thing when she had showed him the painting that Justin had given them as a gift.  Even she could see his genius.  The work was strong and expressive.   Brian wasn’t an expert when it came to art, but he realized that Justin's work was reaching a much higher level than Pittsburgh could properly accommodate.  He deserved to be seen and recognized.  It was Justin's destiny to earn his place in the art world.  Mel revealed to him what Justin would be giving up by marrying him and how he had better appreciate what Justin was willing to sacrifice to be with him and that he had to make it worthwhile to him. 

But Brian knew.  He knew that it wasn't worth it.  Just what had he given Justin over the past five years?  Disappointments, denial, sadness.  He had almost died because of a 'ridiculously romantic' gesture on his part.  How many times had he made the tears roll down Justin's face?  How many times had he hurt his soul and broken his heart?  Justin was so young...and his life was just beginning.  
 
Brian could not continue to allow himself to be the center of the universe for Justin. He needed to fly. Fly away from him in order to reach his full potential, to go where his life steered him to go. His Sunshine was brilliant and Brian knew the only way to prove that to him was to go their separate ways.  Everyone was telling him that was the best course, the only course of action to take.  So how could he ignore that?   
 
The sound of the door slamming brought him back to the present, to his terrible reality, and he couldn't help but shudder.  He was now alone.  
Slowly, Brian came out of his pretend stupor.   He sat up and stretched his arms above his head to relieve the tenseness in his muscles.  He knew he hadn't really fooled Justin, not even for a second.  Justin must have realized he was awake the entire time, but he had said nothing before he left.  He also could not bear to say goodbye.  Brian knew.  It was as difficult for Justin as it had been for him.  "Goodbye, Sunshine," he whispered to a closed door as the stillness of the loft threatened to smother him. 

Justin had realized that Brian had remained awake but motionless the entire time he was quietly bustling around the loft, pretending he was asleep, but his irregular, soft wheezes had betrayed him.  He knew every breath, every movement and every gesture of his lover.  Justin had wanted to kiss him and hold him, but he knew it would not only be too difficult for Brian to handle, but also for him.  If they had, he knew he would not have had the strength to leave.  A simple gesture from his partner, a simple word, and it might have changed everything.  He wanted so badly to say something before he left, but he couldn't.  They had said everything already last night, in their words and with their bodies.  Everything was set.

But as he closed the door behind him and walked toward the elevator with his bags, he couldn't help wondering what exactly Brian had meant last night.  What the fuck did "it was only time" mean, anyway?  And why had Brian kept the rings?  How would Brian react if he turned around right now and walked back into the loft and refused to leave?  He suspected that he simply would kick his ass and see to it that he got on the plane, even if he had to personally escort him there.  He knew nothing would prevent Brian from making sure he took advantage of this opportunity. 

He sighed as his thoughts turned to Lindsay.  Had she heard him or just ignored him when he had told her that his big opportunity of a lifetime wasn't in New York but that it was with Brian, instead?  And why had she seen fit to show Brian that article in the first place while she espoused the wonders of being a starving artist in New York?  Why after all those years of teasing and animosity between Brian had Mel had he finally decided to listen to what she had to say? 

Resigned to his fate, then, Justin wiped the last tears from his face before he entered the elevator car; the taxi was already downstairs, waiting to take him to the airport to board his plane.  His last thought as he got into the elevator and began to descend – and leave his world with Brian behind – was the hope that somehow he would still be waiting for him when he returned.   

 

Gazing down at his half-empty glass of Beam and the ash-laden cigarette in his hands, Brian wondered what he would do now. Why had Justin decided to leave on a Sunday?  If it had been a typical business day, he would have been getting ready to drive into Kinnetik and could bury himself in his work; and then afterward he would have proceeded to Woody's and then Babylon (that is, if it still existed).  Why the fuck, then, had the twat elected to fly out on a Sunday of all days?  Ah, yes.  He remembered.  It was because that friend of Daphne's (Tracy, Tiffany, Kelly, whatever it was) only had Sunday off to help Justin move in.  It seemed, then, that life was definitely conspiring against him in a lot of ways.

If life HAD been fair, he would be able to drive over to the Munchers' home and take his son to the park or to the zoo today to help occupy his mind; anyplace that would make Gus happy, because when his son was happy, he was happy, too, and it would have been a nice diversion from what was really happening.  But, instead, his mothers had decided to flee the Pitts for the safer confines of Canada, the Xanadu for all gays, at least in their opinion.  For his son's sake, and even for Mel and Lindsay's, he hoped that one day they would, indeed, find what they are looking for in their new home. 

He sat on the side of the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, as he contemplated what exactly he would do today to fill the void that Justin had left.  He did not want to call Michael, and have to endure his 'puppy-dog' face as he stared over at him sympathetically.  The last thing he wanted was pity from anyone, especially from his best friend.  He had made his choice.  He had convinced Justin it was for the best.  He had won the battle, but the price had been immense.  Yes, he loved Justin deeply.  He loved him and wanted to marry him for real.  Brian never had done anything that he had not wanted to do.  But this was not the time to place his needs and desires above Justin's.  It seems that their lives were never perfectly in sync at the same time.   

Perhaps in a few years, he could expand Kinnetik to include the New York area and be with Justin again.  Maybe by then, Justin would have solidified his career and achieved the recognition and notoriety that he deserved. 

But there was always the possibility that once in New York, Justin would forget about him and find someone else who really deserved his love; he might find someone who made him happy once he was away from his influence.  That thought hurt him a lot more deeply than he might have thought.  He knew Justin intimately, but once he was in New York, would he change?  If he did, who could blame him?  He knew if HE had gone to New York – just like when he thought he was about to be offered that other advertising job – he would have happily gone and not looked back. 

Justin was too young to be tied down to someone like him for the rest of his life.  He would get to know other people far more interesting than he; young people like him who had an immense ability to love and who did not possess his imperfections. 

First loves of youth tended to wither in time, and he feared that would happen with Justin.  Of course, he knew he would somehow always be special to him.  He would always occupy a place in his heart, but he knew he could not hold onto Justin forever. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he took another swig from his glass.  The pain was almost unbearable.  He knew it would only get worse if Justin tried to call him or email him and he avoided contact with him.  It would be cruel perhaps to do that, and it would take every ounce of self-control on his part to carry it out, but he knew it was necessary.  He needed to let Justin go.  He had to break the shackles, even if it destroyed him.  He just hoped one day that Justin would understand, forgive him, and even take him back.  

 
For now, he would apply a little pain management in the form of getting shit-faced drunk and getting stoned on weed.  And if the phone rang, he would just throw it against the wall until it stopped ringing. 

 
When he heard the door to his loft sliding open three hours later, his heart stopped beating for a moment as he held his breath.  He couldn't help stealing a glance at the door, hoping that a certain blond would walk back in.  But to his great disappointment, it was just Michael.  He shouldn't be surprised, though; he only wondered what had taken him so long. 

Silently, Michael walked over to Brian's side and, sitting down beside him, reached over to lightly embrace him.  He sighed as he pulled back and looked into his face.  Brian tensed up, feeling that there was something wrong; that Michael wasn't just there to console him.  He could see pain, despair and perhaps fear in his friend's eyes.  His heart sank further into his chest, if that was even possible, as he frowned. 

"Mikey, what's wrong?  Is Ben sick again?  Is it Hunter?"   

Michael shook his head.  "No, they're okay," he told him softly. 

 "Then what?  It is JR or Gus? Has something happened up in Canada?"  He didn't know why his mind immediately jumped to the girls and their children.  Perhaps it was the melancholy he was presently experiencing that made him think of them. 

"No, it's not that." 

 
"Then tell me why you look like you've been run over by a truck?"

"Where's Justin?" he unexpectedly asked.   

"Where's Justin?" Brian repeated; he shook his head in exasperation.  "Where do you think?  He's on a fucking plane heading toward the land of artistic opportunity."   

"Then he definitely got on the plane?" 

Brian snorted.  "Do you see him here, Mikey?  Of course he did!  Now do you want to tell me what the hell this conversation is all about?" 

Michael reached over to grip his wrist.  "Then you haven't heard the news?" he asked him quietly. 

 
"What?  Is Armani launching their new summer collection already?  Or is it Prada?  Gucci?  They always jump the gun so early; it's barely spring..."
"For God's sake, Brian!" Michael pleaded.  "You need to turn on the television." 

"Michael, I'm not interested in watching anything!" Brian growled.  "I don't want a distraction, if that's what you're trying to do.  I don't want any of your sentimental bullshit.  Mikey, please, go home to your little wifey and spare me.  Justin had to leave, and I had to stay here.  Life goes on." 

"Brian, damn it!  You don't understand.  Please...TURN ON THE TV and find the local news." 

The earnest, desperate look in Michael's face began to turn Brian's blood cold with fear.  What exactly was going on?  "Michael, just tell me what you're trying to say." 

Michael took a deep breath before he slowly shook his head.  "Just...turn it on, Brian," he urged him as Brian located the remote and pressed the button.  "Shit TV!" he grumbled before he pressed the power button again and this time the flat-screen TV finally flickered to life.  

Brian glanced over at Michael, his friend for so many years.  He knew him like the back of his hand by now, and he realized that something was terribly wrong.  With a sense of fear beginning to sprout in his stomach, he flipped the channels until he found a local news anchor announcing a special news bulletin.  He could tell the well-coiffed, blond woman in his thirties was trying to remain professional, but underneath the stolid demeanor he could distinctly see sadness in her eyes. 

 
He turned up the volume on the remote as she continued with her narrative.  "If you are just joining us, we're interrupting our normal broadcasting schedule to report what we know so far about Liberty Air Flight #354 that departed Allegheny National Airport this morning at 10:00, in route to New York City.  The flight, reported to be carrying 136 passengers and six crew members, disappeared from radar shortly after takeoff, and eyewitnesses on the ground reported hearing and seeing an explosion of some type in the plane's general flight path around the same time.  According to preliminary reports, which we are still trying to confirm, neither a terrorist attack, nor technical problems, have been ruled out at this time.  However, emergency crews are now at the scene of a reported debris field, and there are unconfirmed reports that there are likely to be no survivors of this crash.  They will be seeking to retrieve the aircraft's black boxes in hopes of learning more.  As we get further information, we will immediately break into regular programming for any additional updates." 

  
Brian stood there, shell-shocked.  "No..." he whispered.  "No."  He turned off the television, unable to bear hearing anymore.  Flight...Pittsburgh to New York...10:00.  Justin's flight.  Explosion in the air...no survivors...

 And then Michael heard something that he had never heard before from Brian:  a wail, a cry filled with so much pain and so much despair that he wasn't sure if it was even his best friend crying as he collapsed in his arms and buried his face into his chest, his tears quickly drenching his shirt.  He had never thought he would ever hear anything so primitive, so wracked with pain, coming from his friend.  But that was before Justin.  Before he learned what it meant to love. 

All Michael could do then was hold him in his arms as Brian fell back onto the bed.  He hugged him tightly and cried along with him as he wondered how life could be so cruel.  Why did something like this have to happen?  Why now?  At first, he hadn't cared for Justin. He recalled all too clearly the shock of seeing him still at the loft that next morning when he had come to drive Brian to work in his Jeep.  Something in the back of his mind told him then that this kid was different; that he was meant to stay.  Brian's attitude toward Justin only served to confirm his suspicions.  After years filled with jealousy, resentment, and hastily-said words and actions that he now regretted, Michael had learned to respect and even like Justin.  The boy was special, and he had made Brian happy.  He now sincerely regretted the day the two of them had decided not to go through with their wedding.  With Justin in his life, Brian was a better man and he had been happy, and in the end, his friend's happiness was all that mattered to him.  But now, apparently Justin was dead.  God, why?  He feared what would happen to Brian now.  How could he help mend someone whose world has just been destroyed? 

He could hear his phone ringing incessantly in his pocket as he continued to hold Brian.  He finally pulled away just enough to answer his phone as he slid it open. 

Michael sighed sadly as he listened to his mother's voice, knowing instinctively what she was trying to ask.  "Yeah, Ma, he knows."  After a pause, he nodded his head, even though he knew she couldn't see him.  "Yeah, I'm afraid so," he told her in a whisper.  "That was Justin's plane, and he did leave for the airport earlier."

Through his haze of pain and grief, Brian could hear Michael's side of the conversation as he replied, "Ma, please don't cry.  How do you THINK Brian is?  No.  No, there's no need for you come over here!  I'll stay with him."  There was another pause as he heard Michael respond, "Just...Stay with Jennifer.  And tell her how sorry I am.  I'll take care of Brian; you stay there.  I love you, Ma." Quietly Michael hung up the phone as Brian rose from the bed. 

Michael watched as his friend wiped his tears away and somehow managed to shuffle down the steps and over to the kitchen to open the refrigerator and retrieve a bottle of water.  He watched Brian with growing concern.  It had been out of the ordinary for Brian to show any emotion at all just now – the last time he could recall such a reaction was after his father's funeral – and that was for a man who hadn't been worth any compassion or grief at all.  Now with Justin's death, he suspected his friend would shut himself off completely from any further emotional displays altogether.  It was his way of dealing with his pain, his coping mechanism to secure barriers around his heart and plaster on his mask of self-sufficiency. 

 
He would not share his pain or any sign that could be construed as a weakness with anyone; he wouldn't allow anyone to approach him.  After all, he was the invincible Brian Kinney, and it just wouldn't do to admit that he needed help from others, even from him.  He watched, then, with worried eyes as Brian trudged back up the steps and leaned down to give him a brief kiss on the lips and a short embrace.  "Go home, Michael," he told him quietly.

Michael shook his head as Brian towered over him.  "No, I'm going to stay with you.  You don't need to be alone right now." 

 
"I want to be alone!" Brian growled.  "Now, please, Mikey, go away." 

 
But Michael stubbornly shook his head again. "No, I won't leave you now." 

 Brian sighed as he sat down beside Michael.  "Mikey, listen to me!  Are you listening?" 

Michael huffed.  "Yes, I'm listening!" 

 
"Leave me, Michael!  I need to be alone right now; at least for a few hours.  Do NOT let anyone else come here, either.  I do NOT want to see anyone!  Leave me alone – NOW!" 

"But..."

"Are you fucking deaf?  Go!" 

"Brian," Michael persisted quietly.  "You're not thinking about..."

Brian rolled his eyes.  "Mikey, Scout's honor. I won't do anything stupid.  I can't do that.  I have Gus to think about.  Just...leave me alone for a few hours."  He brushed his hand through his hair; had it only been a few hours since he had heard Justin leave? Less than a day since they had made love, over and over again, like they were memorizing each other's body, their smell, their touch?  He felt a pain lance through his heart like a dagger at the thought of never seeing him again or holding him or kissing him...  "I'll...I'll call you," he finally managed to say. 

 
"You sure?" Michael prodded him gently.

"Yeah," Brian told him wearily.  "I promise." 

"Brian...I..."

 
"Michael, I'm not going to ask again.  Go.  And don't let anyone in here." 

Michael finally nodded as, with a gentle ruffling of Brian's hair, he turned to leave, quietly sliding the door back a few seconds later and then closing it firmly behind him.  As soon as he knew his friend was alone, Brian's tears began anew.  His Sunshine, the only man he had ever dared to give his heart to, was gone.  He would never see him again, never hear his voice, his laugh, or see his amazing, one-of-a-kind smile.  How would he live without his kisses, or without being able to feel his body curled up next to his? How could he endure without his presence in his life?  Before, he could live with the idea that it would perhaps be years until he would be reunited with Justin again.  Now, however, he knew he would never gaze into those incredible blue eyes anymore or see the joy that sparkled from them when he had finally told him that he loved him.  Why had he been so stupid and refused to honor Justin with those three words for so long?  And yes, he had loved him; he DID love him.  He would never STOP loving him.  Even if he could deny everything else, he could never deny his feelings for him.  Justin was the love of his life.  The ONLY man he had ever loved.  And now, he was gone.  Now he would never be able to say it to him again.

All his self-recrimination came rising to the surface as he wondered why he had been such a coward.  What had been the point?  Why had he forced Justin to leave for New York?  What had been the basis for it?  An article in one art magazine?  A letter of recommendation from Sidney Bloom?  Contacts that Lindsay promised to make for him?  None of that would have guaranteed anything!  None of that would build the foundation for a solid career in such a large, impersonal city as New York! 

Justin had wanted to stay. Stay with him. Continue to paint and build his name in Pittsburgh, and then perhaps try New York later. Now none of that mattered! He wasn't here anymore. He was not in New York, either. There would be no chance for them.

"It's just time ..." Brian had told Justin.  What the fuck had that really meant?  Now it seemed like so much gibberish.  Brian was cursed. He knew that the time has never been favorable to them. In a split second, a bat had almost killed Justin after the happiest and most romantic night of their lives.  In another split second, a bomb at Babylon had nearly stolen his life again, and now, in another split second, the cruelty of life had finally succeeded in taking him away.

If he believed in God, now was the time to ask him, or rather beg him, to go back into time to this morning, so he could rise from this bed and pull Justin into his arms and never let him go.  Never let him leave.  But he did not believe in God, and if he did exist, apparently one of his purposes in life was to make his life meaningless and miserable.  Perhaps another word for God, then, was Joan Kinney. 

His face narrowed in anger just then as he heard the loft door swinging back open.  Brian rose to his feet, prepared to spew his fury at whoever dared to disturb him against his wishes, but as he stomped down the steps, he froze on the bottom step in stunned shock.  He tried to get his lips to work, to speak, but he couldn't make a sound come out. 

Justin dropped his bags down next to the door and held up his hands before Brian had a chance to speak, his own words rushing out of him like a flood.  "Brian, let me talk first.  No matter what you say, I can't go.  I couldn't get on that plane this morning.  I checked in, but when it came time to actually board I couldn't do it.  I can't live without you; I don't WANT to live without you!  I...I left the airport and just took a cab over to that park Gus likes so much so I could do some thinking."

Brian just stood there, his mouth slightly open as Justin babbled on.  "Now before you say anything, I want you to know that I am NOT giving up my career.  I can paint here just as easily as in New York.  I'll ask Sidney Bloom if he can use me in his gallery while I go back to school. Not PIFA, though; I've had enough of their narrow-mindedness.  I thought I would talk to Ben about maybe taking courses at Carnegie Mellon instead.  I do want to go to New York for maybe two weeks to try and speak with some of the agents that Lindsay suggested I contact.  Who knows?" he said with a smile.  "Maybe I can get one of them to give me a chance and display some of my work."

Justin slowly approached his partner, who strangely hadn't said a work yet as he added softly, "But most importantly, Brian: I wanna be with you.  I meant what I said last night.  We don't need to get married or wear rings. I don’t need that.  I just need to know that you love me.  I want you just the way that you are.  I love you, Brian!"  He sighed as his partner remained silent.  "Would you please say something?  Don't make me walk out of your life."  He arched an eyebrow at him.  "What?  Are you angry over my decision?  Is that it?" he asked wearily.  "You really don't want me here?  Well, too bad..."  It was only when Justin walked a little closer to his lover that he noticed the redness of Brian's eyes and the flush of his face.  "Brian, are you feeling all right?" 

 Finally, Brian managed somehow to get his voice to work as he croaked out, "Justin..."  Close enough now to smell the familiar, cheap scent of Justin's soap and the all-too sweet smell of the mango shampoo that he loved to use, Brian could no longer contain his joy.  He had to hold him, kiss him, and never let him go, ever again. 

He launched himself at Justin and swept him up into his arms.  The kiss he bestowed upon him was possessive, desperate and full of pent-up pain, but also full of cleansing relief. Justin was alive! Brian kept repeating it incessantly to make sure as he kissed him deeply. He was not a vision. It was not a dream. His Sunshine was in his arms, warm, soft, and breathing, his heart beating furiously in time with his own, and responding hungrily to his kiss.

 
Finally, he dared to break off their kiss, only because he needed some air, as Justin looked into his eyes with concern.  "Brian, what's going on?"

Brian tried to control his racing pulse as he asked him, "You heard about the accident?"   

Justin frowned as he shook his head.  "No, what accident?  Did someone we know get hurt?" 

Brian's eyes filled with tears then; tears of relief but also sorrow for those who had perished.  "The plane...the flight you were supposed to be on this morning..."

"Yes?" 

"Sunshine," he explained gently, "it exploded in mid-air shortly after takeoff. They don't think there're any survivors.  It's been all over the news." 

Justin was shocked. The flight. HIS flight. If he had boarded ...

"Oh, my God!" he cried out in horror.  "That...that could have been me..."  Brian nodded as another realization suddenly hit him.  "If it's been all over the news, then...My mother!  I have to call my mother!" 

 

"It's okay," Brian told him with a smile as he reached up to gently tuck some rebellious hair behind Justin's ear.  "I'll call her.  I'll call her and Mikey and have them spread the word." 

 
"Michael? He knows?  Does everyone know?" 

"Probably by now," Brian told him as he slid his arms around Justin's back and locked them in place.  "He was the one who came over here and told me about the accident." 

 
"My mom – and Debbie – must be so heartbroken.  Brian, please – you have to call them and let them know." 

Brian couldn't help pulling Justin into his arms again, resting his cheek against the slightly-stubbled skin as he closed his eyes and just felt him, touched him, smelled him.  "I'll do it right now," he whispered.  "You go unpack," he told him as they pulled back to gaze into each other's eyes.  "You go unpack now; you're not going anywhere." 

After Brian had called Michael and Jennifer – and secured Michael's promise to phone everyone else in the 'family' to let them know, as well as spread the word that they didn't want to be disturbed, the two lovers cuddled together on the couch, constantly kissing, hugging, and touching like they were two horny teenagers.  Some part of their bodies had to be touching at all times, almost as if they had to convince themselves that they weren't dreaming and would wake up any second to find that they were once more separated. 

"Brian," Justin murmured as his lover held him close as they sat together lengthwise on the couch, Justin's smaller frame nestled inside Brian's.  "I don't know what to say."  He was still trying to come to grips with being the only survivor of the flight he had been planning to take, and was so thankful that he had not left.  He was also feeling just a tad guilty about it, although he knew what happened was out of his control. 

 
"You don't have to say anything," Brian whispered as he held him tightly, their hands linked together at Justin's stomach.  "Just relax.  Relax and stay here with me.  Just let me kiss you," he whispered as he gave his lover a kiss on the neck and jaw, hearing Justin sigh in pleasure as his lips roamed all over his skin.  "Just let me hold you so I can tell myself that you really are alive and you're here with me." 

"I'm…I'm sorry about what happened, Brian," Justin whispered, finding it a little hard to concentrate at the moment with Brian nuzzling his neck.  "I can't begin to imagine how you felt."

Brian's lips tickled his skin as he murmured, "Doesn't matter now, Sunshine. What matters is that you're here with me now, and I'm never letting you go again." 

Justin smiled.  "I don’t intend on going anywhere unless you're by my side."  
"I couldn't agree more, Brian concurred as Justin sighed in bliss. 

 
"Brian…"  Justin turned in Brian's arms and draped his body over Brian's so they were facing each other as Brian reached up to pull Justin's head to his to steal another kiss.  The kiss was initially a soft, gentle one as Brian threaded his fingers through the silky, blond locks as he simply luxuriated in Justin being in his arms again.  As Justin parted his lips to allow Brian's tongue to slide inside, however, it soon turned into a primal, needy one as Justin started sucking on Brian's tongue to intensify the kiss and Brian's hands reached to unbutton Justin's shirt and slide his hands inside to explore his lover's back, chest and stomach, caressing every inch he could reach and marking him as his. 

Finally breaking off their kiss several seconds later, both of them sat up so Justin could let his shirt slide to the floor beside them and Brian could quickly dispatch his own.  His eyes darkened as he watched Justin unbutton his jeans as he did the same with Justin's, both men's hands trembling slightly as they considered what they had almost lost.  Brian leaned in to kiss Justin again, now thanking God for hearing his plea and bringing Justin back to him.  He vowed that he would never waste one moment again with this man now that he knows that Justin does want to be here with him.  He intended to spend every moment with him, making sure that he was happy and knowing how he cherished him.  For he was only happy himself when Justin was here with him. 

Justin lifted his hips off the couch, just enough to allow Brian to remove his pants, underwear, socks and shoes.  Brian took pleasure in the lust-filled look Justin gave him as he rose to stand just long enough to dispense with his clothing, clearly seeing the desire shining in his lover's eyes.  Whenever Justin looked at him that way, it always filled him with an emotion that he had never felt before with anyone else.  It was a look that said, You are my life, and I can't live without you.  It mirrored much of his own emotions at that moment. 

"Brian, come here," Justin urged him impatiently as Brian dropped back down onto the couch and began to attack Justin's neck, biting down on it as Justin gasped in reaction before he smoothed the sting with the wetness of his tongue. 

Brian licked a path then from Justin's ear down to his shoulder, evoking shivers and sighs from his younger lover. 

Justin held firmly onto Brian's body, giving himself totally to Brian without any limits or reserve, needing to reassure Brian – and himself – that he was, indeed, home where he belonged and that this was where he wanted, where he needed, to be. 

The feel of their bare cocks rubbing against each other caused both men to moan aloud; the friction was almost unbearable, making them even harder.   Mouths, tongues, and hands continued to reclaim the other, their skin becoming sweaty as their breathing grew ragged.  Knowing he had to feel Brian inside him – that he wanted him to possess him, body and soul – Justin reached down to blindly search for lube and a condom, finally locating it under the couch cushion and managing to grab both items while they continued to kiss and their sighs and moans of pleasure increased. 

Breaking off their kiss to Brian's disappointment, Justin held both items out in front of his lover as Brian nodded, understanding now why Justin had stopped.  He could clearly see the desire and need in Justin's fathomless, blue eyes; the same need and desire he felt, too.  Taking the lube and squirting some onto his fingers, he slid one finger, and then another, into the tight, puckered hole, hearing Justin suck in a deep breath as he was penetrated.  Pushing his fingers in further after giving Justin a moment to adjust, his fingers found their target and massaged it gently, causing Justin to moan uncontrollably as he wriggled in exquisite torture. 

"Oh, fuck, that….that feels so good," Justin breathed out as Brian smiled back at him tenderly.  "Brian…I need you inside me.  Make love to me." 

Realizing that Justin was close to coming, Brian nodded before he slowly pulled his fingers out, causing a groan of protest from Justin's lips.  Both men knew, however, that their disappointment would be short-lived as he slid the condom over his hard shaft and managed to reverse their positions so he was now draped on top of his lover. 

He gazed into Justin's eyes for just a moment until Justin impatiently reached down and helped guide his cock to its target.  A moment later, Brian pushed in tentatively, and it was then that Justin knew everything was as it should be and he was home.  This was the truth of his life; he belonged to Brian, and Brian belonged to him.  Nothing could ever keep them apart now. 

Brian waited as long as he could for Justin to adjust before he felt his lover squeeze his thigh in a silent signal to keep going as he pushed in deeply so that their bodies were firmly flush with each other's.  They began to move together then as one, seeking to provide the utmost pleasure to each other.  Brian began to move in and out with rhythmic thrusts as Justin arched his body upward to meet his movements.  As their pleasure built, they accelerated the pace of their lovemaking, both feeling their climaxes fast approaching. 

Justin moaned Brian's name as he felt his body breaking up with pleasure before he cried out one last time and exploded; a few moments later, Brian released all the previous anguish and despair that he had felt earlier when Michael had first told him about the accident when he screamed out Justin's name and he, too, came violently within his partner's body.

Brian lay there afterward on top of his lover, gently caressing his hair and not wanting to stop touching him.  He needed to feel him close.  As he thought about everything that had happened, Brian again considered what he had nearly lost and felt so blessed that Justin was here with him.  He could not, would not let anything ever happen to him again.  Reluctantly Brian pulled out and tied off the condom, turning their bodies so that they were lying on their sides, facing each other.

Justin sighed in contentment as he rested his head on Brian's chest, feeling the strong beating of his lover's heart underneath him.  Brian continued to lightly stroke his hair, relaxing Justin as he slowly drew circles on Brian's chest and thought back to the events of this morning when he had departed for the airport with the intention of boarding the plane.  After he had changed his mind and had the cabdriver take him to the park, it had given him a lot of time to think about his life, and all the recent events that had occurred in his and Brian's lives:  the horrific explosion at Babylon and Brian's subsequent declaration of love, the first proposal of marriage at his dowdy, cramped apartment, Brian's stunned announcement about purchasing Britin, the second proposal and his eventual acceptance, and all the preparations they had made for their wedding. 

Throughout everything, Brian had remained essentially the same, refusing to submit to overly grand, romantic gestures (even purchasing Britin had been more of a 'marketing ploy' in Justin's opinion toward achieving Brian's goal), and continuing to quench his insatiable sexual appetite (although it was apparently only with him during that time).  For two months between the proposal and the wedding date, Brian focused his attention on him.  The Great Brian Kinney, Stallion of Liberty Avenue, did not seem interested in being with anyone else.  For two months, he had been given the inexplicable gift of monogamy. 

At first, none of that seemed too odd to Justin, but his partner's behavior slowly began to change once Lindsay had shown him the article in Art Forum Magazine and he had spoken with Mel, who had filled him in afterward about her conversation with Brian when he had volunteered to watch JR and Gus for them during the day of their house closing.  After that, Brian began to be inattentive toward him.  He would sigh and roll his eyes in exasperation whenever he brought up plans for the upcoming nuptials or how he wanted to redecorate Britin, and he stubbornly refused to accompany him to Woody's, indicating he preferred to stay home, only reluctantly agreeing to go when Justin pushed him, such as the night of the stag party.  And when Brian had refused to indulge himself with that well-endowed stripper that night, Justin had found it extremely odd and his suspicions began to mount. 

 
The last straw, however, had been when they had gotten home and Justin had tried to initiate a blow job, only to be rebuffed with Brian asking him if he wouldn't rather 'cuddle' instead.  What the fuck?  Brian Kinney never refused sex.  It was then that Justin came to the conclusion that Brian was doing all of these things merely to try and please him.  He came to believe that Brian had never really been sincere about the wedding proposal or anything else during that period, although he did believe that he loved him.  In Justin's opinion, Brian had merely done all of those things because he had made a promise to him, and Brian had never, ever broken his promises in all the years that they had been together.

But now, as he lay in Brian's arms, he realized once more that Brian had been trying to manipulate his life.   He recognized the telltale behavioral changes, the expressions of boredom, and the lengthy silences that were all part of yet another ploy on Brian's part to convince him to do exactly what he thought was best for him, without finding out what HE truly thought.

Justin really did not want to go to New York. He knew that everything was relative. Hollywood taught him not to have grand illusions. But, when it came to Brian's behavior, he did not have many options. Initially, he believed he needed to go, but then he would return. He wanted to find an agent, make contact with the galleries, and stay no more than six months in New York while he steadfastly maintained contact with Brian. Only the night before, after he had heard Brian's spiel of "whether we see each other next week, in a month or never again, it's just time," Justin began to realize what Brian was really trying to say. He would withdraw from his life in order not to disrupt his career. The fool, once again, was thinking he had him – and what he wanted – all figured out.  And Justin had almost gone along with it – with disastrous, life-changed results. 

 
Once Justin had figured this all out, he knew there was only one option:  he was going back to the loft with his things, and he wouldn't leave there no matter WHAT Brian said to him.  Brian thought he had it all figured out, but there was one, big flaw in his plan:  Justin knew him too well; WAY too well. 

"You did that on purpose…Didn’t you?" he whispered against Brian's chest, feeling the strong arms that had been caressing his back so lovingly suddenly stop. 

 
"I did what on purpose, Sunshine?" Brian murmured. 

Justin lifted his head to peer into Brian's eyes, feeling his heart skip a beat.  "All those changes in your behavior after you saw that article, and after Mel talked to you about what I was sacrificing to be with you; yes, she told me," he answered his lover's unspoken question.  "You did all that because you knew I would freak out and decide to go along with what everyone told me I should do.  Didn't you?" 

Brian sighed.  "I….I thought you needed to go, Justin, and I knew I couldn't convince you by arguing with you about it." 

 
Justin reached up to curve his palm around Brian's jaw.  "Brian, that should have been for me to decide. I did not need to be in New York.  An article by an obsessed, fairy art critic in a magazine is not enough to base an entire career on." 

Brian gazed into his eyes as he admitted, "Lindsay's much more of an art expert that I could ever be, and she convinced me that it was necessary.  And Mel, well, you know I normally don't pay any attention to what she says," he told Justin as he grinned at him.  "But what she said, along with that article, well, it did make sense.  And I didn't want to be the cause of holding you back from your dreams." 

 
Justin sighed now.  "Brian, there's no need for me to live in New York.  The only thing I might need is more luggage so I can travel back and forth to show my pieces to galleries there."  He slowly stroked his fingers across the strong jaw of his lover as he reassured him, "Brian, my life is here with you.  You're worth much more to me than any amount I could ever get from one of my paintings.  Don't you understand that?" 

"Are you absolutely sure, Justin?" he whispered.  "What makes you think you won't later resent me for preventing you from what might be the biggest opportunity of your whole, fucking life?"

 
"Brian, you know me well enough by now to realize that I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure.  And by the way, YOU are the biggest opportunity of my life.  You're the only thing that really matters to me." 

He thought he saw tears in Brian's eyes as his partner told him, "I just don't want you to regret your decision later." 

"I would have only regretted it if I had gone," Justin told him firmly.  "Ironic how things work out," he murmured as Brian pulled him closer to cradle him protectively against his longer frame.  "If I HAD done what you tried to get me to do – if I hadn't listened to what my heart was telling me – I would have never had the chance anyway."  He felt Brian shudder under him as he spoke. He smiled.  "But even if it hadn't happened," he told him, "I would have still made the right decision, and I don't regret it for a second.  So just forget trying to persuade me otherwise, Mr. Kinney.  It's over and done with, and my mind is made up."

Their lips met for another kiss as Brian's heart soared; only Justin was able to make him feel high without being on any drugs whatsoever.   

"Brian?"  Justin softly spoke as they broke off their kiss.  There was one more issue that he felt he needed to address. 

"Yeah, Sunshine?" 

"Has there been anyone else but me since you proposed?"  He noticed Brian uncharacteristically averting his eyes downward.  

"Why do you ask?" Brian finally replied as he met Justin's gaze and rolled his tongue into his cheek awkwardly.  He wouldn't lie, however.  "I didn't need anyone else but you," he told him, the sincerity obvious in his voice.

Justin couldn't help but be pleased by that admission, but he had to make clear that he wanted whatever would make Brian happy.  "Brian, I don't want you to change just to please me.  I thought we had both agreed on that before.  I'm not going to ask you to give me something that you're not willing – or wanting – to give me." 

 
"Justin, this has nothing to do with my changing just for you.  I did it for ME.  This is something that I decided on my own.  I want this, and I can do this.  I WILL do it – just for you." 

 But Justin obstinately refused to truly believe it.  "Brian, you are not obligated to do anything for me.  I know that you love me; that's enough." 

Brian huffed in aggravation as he shook his head.  "Justin, what do I have to say or do to convince you?"  He cradled his lover's head with his hands to hold it in place.  "I want only YOU.  You are the one, Sunshine; you're my soulmate.  I want it to be just the two of us." 

"But, if you are sacrificing…"

Brian slowly rubbed his thumb over Justin's lower lip in an attempt to get him to stop speaking.  "I'm sacrificing nothing!  I want this.  You have known me long enough to know that I never do anything that I don't want to do."  He paused before explaining, "I won't require you be monogamous, either, if that's not what you want.  You're still young; I would understand.  But I…I don't want anyone else anymore…no one but you.

  

Justin's face lit up as he told him, "Brian, you know that's what I've wanted for a long time.  I don't want anyone else, either.  I've always wanted only you." 

 

 Brian nodded as he smiled in relief.  "Then, we do the tests, wait the required time, and then fuck without condoms." 

Justin smiled almost shyly as he shook his head.  "No, we make love without condoms." 

Brian rolled his eyes.  "No, you little twat.  Just because we will be doing it bareback does NOT mean I will suddenly turn into a lesbian.  I fuck; I don't make love."  He wrinkled up his nose as if they were discussing a dead rat instead of their soon-to-be-evolving relationship.

Justin laughed.  "You idiot!  You're been making love to me since the first night we met."   

Brian shook his head in resignation.  "Okay, okay, you call it making love; I call it fucking.  Maybe I will admit it's making love if you agree to marry me." 

 Justin's eyes grew large at the unexpected statement.  "You realize that will make the third time that you have asked me that?" 

Brian traced the profile of Justin's nose with his forefinger as he replied, "Well, maybe the third time will be the charm, then.  I know that luck is already on our side," he whispered, thinking briefly of what might have been. 

"Hey…stop thinking of that," Justin gently chided him.  "Is that what you really want, Brian?  To marry me?" 

 
Brian stroked Justin's cheek with the back of his hand as he whispered, "Justin Taylor, I want you forever in my life.  I want to…I want…All right, damn it!  I want to…make love to you…without any barriers.  And yes, I want to marry you, put my ring on your finger and make you a 'respectable' man."  Justin laughed at that last part as he told him softly, "I don't want to ever again wake up without you by my side.  That's all I really want."  Justin nodded as he added, "But most importantly of all above everything else, don't forget that…I, I love you." 

Justin nodded solemnly.  "Well, then…Yes." 

Brian grinned.  "Yes, what?" 

 
"Yes, I AM hungry.  What do you have in the fridge?"

"Justin…"

Justin's face broke out into a radiant smile as he laughed at Brian's expression. 

"What I really mean is…yes, I will marry you, Brian Kinney.  I want you in my life, in our bed, and in my body making love to me every day, forever, without anything between us.  And I'll proudly wear your ring and brag to everyone that I have finally taken the 'Stallion of Liberty Avenue' off the market."

Brian snorted at Justin's comparison of him to a prime piece of grocery meat as he softly added, "And…I love you, too; more than my own life." 

"And you'll never leave me again.  That will be part of our vows," Brian persisted, rolling his lips under. 

 "Yes, Sir," Justin politely agreed.  "Now seal our deal by showing me how much you love me."  

Brian smiled.   "My pleasure."