Brian isn’t what one would call “friendly.” He’s bossy, moody and sometimes downright mean. Justin doesn’t care. He wants to make Brian his anyway. And not just because Brian is gorgeous and great in bed. Brian is smart. He also says and does what he wants. Justin admires that. He wants to say and do what he wants, too, someday. Being around Brian will teach him how to be strong, how to be independent. How to be a proud gay man. The only question is: does Brian want him around? Justin thinks he does even though he’ll never say it.



“C’mere. I won’t bite,” Brian says, but Justin holds back. Now that it comes down to it, he’s not sure he wants to have sex after all. Brian’s dick . . . well, it’s really big. Something that big probably shouldn’t be in . . . there.

“Can we just, I don’t know, kiss or something?” Justin asks because he’s the biggest weirdo who ever lived.

“We can do whatever you want,” Brian replies. “But I thought you said you wanted to get laid.” Justin nods. He does. He really really does. “Then don’t worry,” Brian says. “I’ll go slow.”



They lean against the Jeep, making out like crazy before they get in. “Put on your seatbelt,” Brian says as they leave Babylon’s parking lot. “For that matter, put on your shirt. It’s fucking September, not mid-fucking-July.” But Justin can’t. He’d given it to Daphne when he’d decided to steal Brian away from those two tricks he’d picked up.

“Here,” Brian says, taking off his jacket. “Wear this.” The leather is really soft and obviously expensive. “Thanks,” Justin says. The silk liner is cool against his sweaty skin as he pulls it on. “Why? I’m not giving it to you,” Brian replies.



“You bought condoms?” Brian says. “Why the hell did you buy condoms? Haven’t you seen that bowl on my bedside table? Haven’t you seen the stash by the couch?” Justin is surprised. He thought he was doing something nice, something sexy. After all, they always use Brian’s condoms; shouldn’t Justin contribute? “What’s wrong with them?” he asks when Brian chucks them in the trash. “They’re not lubed,” Brian says. “I only use lubed condoms, especially with you.” Justin frowns. Why should he be different from Brian’s tricks? Brian shrugs. “I want to make sure I don’t hurt you,” he says.



Justin doesn’t know why, but the bouncers at Babylon stop asking for ID and wave Justin through the door even though everyone else is getting turned away. The same thing happens at Woody’s. The bartender stops checking his driver’s license. Does it have something to do with Brian? Did Brian tell the bouncers to always let “the blond kid” in? Did Brian tell the bartender to always let the “blond kid” buy a beer (no hard liquor, just beer)? Justin can’t come up with any other explanation. He wants to ask Brian about it, but senses that’s a bad idea.



Brian starts letting Justin hang out with him and his friends. Justin can tell Michael doesn’t approve. Brian doesn’t seem to give a shit. Justin suspects that’s a Big Deal. Michael is Brian’s best friend. They’re practically attached at the hip. Brian also doesn’t make it a secret that he’s taking Justin back to the loft every night Justin goes out with them. He even kisses Justin in public. Justin knows it’s out-of-character when he overhears Michael say to Ted and Emmett that he can’t believe Brian is being so open about having sex with a “trick” more than once.



“Get up!” Brian says, yanking Justin’s blankets off. “You need to get to school early so you can finish your research paper on squids or whatever the fuck it’s about.” Justin turns over and stuffs his face in the cushions. Brian had made him sleep on the couch. It wasn’t fair. How can Brian have sex with him one night and then refuse to even kiss him on the next? “It’s not about squids,” he says petulantly. “It’s about Sam and John Adams.” Brian throws his uniform at him. Justin considers himself lucky that Brian hadn’t also thrown his shoes.



Brian picks Justin up at school. Brian has never picked him up at school before. “Get in!” he snaps, confusing the bullies. Who is this guy in an expensive suit who obviously isn’t a parent? Justin is embarrassed that Brian saw him being tormented. To his relief, Brian doesn’t mention it. “Where are we going?” Justin asks. When they arrive at his house, he realizes the answer. Brian’s trying to get rid of him. He’s a burden, nothing but a stupid kid. Justin feels defeated but then Brian stands up to his homophobic dad. “Justin, are you coming?” he asks.



Justin opens the fridge, looking for a bottle of water. He’s so thirsty, he’ll even drink that nasty guava juice Brian likes. But what does he see? A huge bottle of Mountain Dew. Brian hates soda, which can only mean one thing. He’d bought it for Justin! Justin is so happy that it takes him a moment to realize that Brian had also bought string cheese. Justin thinks Brian wouldn’t eat string cheese even if he was on a desert island dying from starvation. Has Brian ever bought soda and snacks for one of his tricks? Justin highly doubts it.



They’re at Woody’s on a Saturday night. “Hell no, I won’t buy you another drink, you little twat.” Brian is an asshole; he’s buying Michael and Ted their fourth beers; Emmett his third cocktail, and Justin a Coke. “Shut up,” Michael says when Justin complains. “Isn’t it obvious? He doesn’t want you getting drunk.” Why? He’s well on his way to getting hammered. “I’m also not seventeen,” Brian says. What a dick. “Don’t try to tell me you weren’t getting sloshed when you were seventeen,” Justin says. Brian swallows half his beer in one swig. “I won’t,” he says cryptically.



Justin can’t find his plaid shirt. Where the hell is it? He knows he’d left it at the loft two nights ago. “Don’t have a conniption,” Brian says (whatever that means). “Marie took our laundry to be washed yesterday.” Justin hugs him and ignores his grousing about wrinkling his suit. He’d said “our laundry.” That can only mean one thing – they’re a couple! Only couples call each other’s laundry “our laundry.” “What about my black socks?” Justin asks. “She took them too,” Brian replies. “Thank you,” Justin says kissing him. “For what?” Brian asks. “They were stinking up the place.”



Brian is a shithead! How can he throw Justin out knowing he has no place to go? So, Justin forgot to set the alarm and Brian had some things stolen? He has insurance. He can buy new stuff. Justin knew he fucked-up, but did he deserve to be treated like a piece of garbage? But then Brian comes to New York to find him and bring him home. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t feel bad, if he didn’t care. They have really intense sex. Brian tears the first condom because he puts it on too rough, too fast.



Deb sits Justin down and gives him a lecture about Brian. She tells him she loves Brian like a son but thinks that Brian is a bad influence. She says Brian shouldn’t be buying a seventeen-year-old alcohol and keeping him up on school nights. Justin tells Brian expecting him to laugh. He doesn’t. Instead, he gets really quiet. “She’s right,” he says. “I shouldn’t be fucking you.” He stays away for a while, but then he comes to the diner one night when Deb’s not there. He leaves a twenty as a tip on which he’s written, “my place, eight-thirty.”



Brian dances with Michael and Justin at Babylon. At first, he danced more with Michael, but now he dances more with Justin. Sometimes they dance super close and make-out. Brian is a really good kisser. He makes Justin hard in a nanosecond. Justin is embarrassed, but then Brian gets hard too. Brian is never embarrassed by anything. Sometimes he even opens his jeans and puts Justin’s hand in them, right there on the dance floor! Justin has watched Brian dance with tricks, but he never dances with them more than once, and they never put their hands down his pants.



Sometimes when Justin is working at the diner, Brian comes in without his friends, and sometimes, when Justin walks by his stool at the counter, Brian grabs his wrist and pulls him close for a kiss right there in front of everyone! It’s always a real kiss with tongue and all. Brian also leaves huge tips triple the amount his meal costs. Once he told Justin to go out back for his lunch break. When he did, Justin saw Brian parked in the lot, sitting in his Jeep. Justin blew him and then Brian fucked him, making Justin come twice.



Brian smiles and talks to him when they occasionally eat dinner together. It makes Justin feel like they’re a real couple. He starts getting cookbooks from the library and testing recipes on Debbie and Vic, who both complain that he’s going to make them fat. He starts using up almost all of his salary on ingredients for his meals. It’s worth it though. Justin lights candles and sets the table. Brian opens a bottle of wine and talks about his day at work and then he asks Justin about his day at school. They laugh at each other’s funny stories.



It’s S.A.T time! Brian grills Justin on vocabulary and geometry while they’re shaving, while they’re in the car, while Justin cooks dinner, while Brian is waiting his turn at the pool table. “Insouciant?” “Nongermane?” “What is an ‘Isosceles Triangle’?” When Justin gets 1400, he knows it’s partly thanks to Brian. He applies to several Ivy League schools, trying hard not to imagine what life will be like without Brian. Brian seems to have the same difficulty; when Justin tells him about Dartmouth and Brown, Brian remarks that they’re all out-of-state. Speaking before he thinks – how often does Brian do that?



Brian asks Justin to babysit Gus, which is a really Big Deal. Brian is going to something at Babylon. Justin doesn’t know what; all he knows is that Brian looks hot in leather pants. Justin hopes Brian will let him admire them more thoroughly when he gets home. Things do not go as hoped though. Mel comes over and finds Justin about to give Gus milk that’s a little too warm. She yells at Brian for leaving Gus with “anyone.” Brian replies angrily that Justin “is not just anyone.” Justin smiles. He remembers when Brian told him he was nobody.



On his eighteenth birthday, Brian hands Justin an envelope. “Don’t be stupid or I’ll cut it up,” he says. What is it?? It’s a credit card. “Don’t get too excited,” Brian says. “There’s a one-thousand dollar limit.” Justin throws himself at Brian, expecting Brian to catch him in his arms. Brian steps out of the way, and Justin ends up sprawled on the couch. “Oh, by the way,” Brian says, walking to the bedroom as though he hadn’t just endangered Justin’s life and limbs. “That box on the island is a cell phone. Go over your minutes at your peril.”



Brian’s dad dies. Justin is crushed when Brian tells him he doesn’t want him to attend the funeral. He doesn’t cry, but Brian can tell he’s upset. Justin braces himself for mockery, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Brian takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom. At first, Justin thinks they’re going have sex, which would be weird, but then Brian lies down with all his clothes on. Justin joins him, and Brian moves so that his back faces Justin, signaling he wants to be held, that he needs comforting. He sighs when Justin puts his arms around him.



Justin doesn’t need Brian to come to his aid, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t notice how Brian stiffened when Hobbs took on a threatening posture. And he definitely noticed when Brian shouldered him out of the way, instinctively getting between Justin and danger. Brian would protect him. Justin has always suspected that Brian would fight to the death to protect his friends, but him? Wasn’t Justin “nobody”? Justin feels elated, but then Brian says something he hadn’t expected. Congratulations, he says. You just made yourself a real enemy. He sounds upset. Justin doesn’t understand why. He will later though.



Justin knows a lot about sex – as in a lot. Brian is teaching him everything he knows. How to fuck, rim and give flawless blowjobs. He’s even taught Justin some weird stuff like figging and snowballing. Most of the time Brian lets him try stuff, but sometimes the act is too advanced like sounding (putting a rod in your dick) and fisting (putting your hand in someone’s ass). Justin’s okay with that; sounding and fisting freak him out. Brian would never pressure him to do anything he didn’t want to do; he wants Justin to be safe and have fun.



Brian writhes with discomfort when Justin takes the stage in the King of Babylon contest. He’s jealous. It’s obvious. He doesn’t want other guys getting hard-ons watching Justin dance. When Justin steals his trick, Brian calls after him, saying he thought they were going home together. That’s news to Justin. Just a half an hour ago, Brian made it clear that Justin was his backup plan. Ha Ha! The next morning at the diner, Justin watches Brian writhe with jealousy again when Justin starts telling him and the boys about the awesome night he’d had. “That’s enough,” Brian says, scowling.



Brian loves touching people, be they, friends or strangers. He’s a very tactile person. He hugs and kisses Michael; he throws his arms around Ted’s and Emmett’s shoulders, he sucks cock and rims assholes, but Justin is the only one he nuzzles. At first, he did it solely when he was really drunk. Then he started doing it when he was only a little drunk. Now he does it whenever he feels like it. Justin was shocked to discover he isn’t always thrilled with the invasion of his personal space. Sometimes he even pushes Brian away. Brian deliberately ignores him.



Brian is NOT happy about the surprise “Death Day Party.” He’d warned them not to do anything, but no one foresaw how upset and angry he’d get. Justin was stunned when Brian climbed in the coffin and stayed there all morning. When it became clear that he wasn’t coming out, everyone left. Everyone except Justin that is. He waited in the lobby for a while, and then went back in the party room. Brian was sitting up in the coffin, staring miserably at the wall. Justin cut him a piece of cake. Brian took a bite and smiled at him.



Is it just his imagination or did Brian pause for a second after Justin invited him to his prom? Of course, he’d said no and made a snarky remark, but Justin had seen something in his eyes – just a flicker of maybe. Later Brian teases Justin again, asking him what color dress Justin would wear, speculating it would probably be peach to go with Justin’s blond hair. Justin laughs along with him but considers it a kind of victory that Brian is still thinking about the whole thing. Who knows? Maybe Brian will turn up and surprise him. Surprise everyone.



Daphne shakes his arm and points. Justin thinks he’s hallucinating. That can’t be Brian standing there! Of course, it can’t be Brian. The real Brian would never look so uncertain, so vulnerable. But it is Brian. Justin is stunned when Brian takes his hand and leads him to the dance floor, and he’s even more astonished when Brian pulls him close. People move back, giving them the spotlight. He and Brian are beautiful together. He knows they are because he feels beautiful. They laugh and dance and then, at the end, they kiss – a real kiss. A deep, romantic kiss.



Brian grabs his hand and the crowd parts to let them through. They run through the lobby, laughing, not caring whom they shock. In the stairwell to the parking garage, Brain puts his arms around Justin and kisses him again and again. That’s when Justin realizes it – as clear as a cloudless day, he realizes that Brian is in love with him and he’s in love with Brian and they’re in love together. Brian kisses him again and then the next thing Justin knows they’re dancing in the gloom of the parking garage laughing like kids, happy, blameless and free.

Brian is different after the bashing, and Justin knows why – it’s in Brian’s eyes, his voice, even the way he moves. He feels guilty. He thinks it was his fault. If he hadn’t come to Justin’s prom, Hobbs wouldn’t have . . . what? . . . turned into a psychopathic killer? Justin wants to comfort him. No one can transform someone innately benign into a murderer, especially not with a three-minute dance. Justin would tell Brian he’s innocent, but it wouldn’t matter. Brian wouldn’t believe him. He will never fully escape that parking garage with its cold cement floor.



Brian wore a bloody scarf for months. Justin still can’t believe it. Who does that? Certainly not someone who isn’t scared. “You should’ve seen Brian,” Justin overhears Michael tell Ted and Emmett at the diner one day. “There was blood all over him, and he couldn’t speak. I tried to ask him questions, but he didn’t even look at me. I would’ve thought he didn’t even realize I was there except he wouldn’t let go of my hand when I needed to go to the bathroom. I practically had to feed him. So, stop thinking he didn’t give a shit.”



Brian has nightmares that wake Justin up. Justin doesn’t know what to do. Should he try to comfort Brian like Brian comforts him when he has nightmares? He honestly doesn’t know. Brian refuses to talk about the bashing. Now that Justin’s memory has returned and he’s able to have sex and tolerate crowds, Brian is determined to pretend like nothing happened. It’s hard because Justin wants to talk about it. He needs to. Brian, however, withdraws into the baths or a bottle of beam. But Justin knows that it’s not because Brian doesn’t care. It’s because he cares too much.



Brian doesn’t say anything if Justin yells “fuck!” when his hand fails him. He just walks over and sits down, taking Justin’s hand in his and massaging it gently but firmly. It feels good, but it doesn’t really make a difference. Justin’s hand doesn’t cramp, it just stops working. He doesn’t tell Brian though. Brian needs to feel like he can help, like there’s something he can do. Justin doesn’t want to take that away from him, just like Brian pretends he doesn’t know that Justin kept the scarf. Justin knows it’s not blindness, it’s about helping each other heal.



Justin hates Hobbs with every fiber of his being. Not only had Hobbs nearly killed him and ruined his future as an artist, Hobbs damaged the man Justin loves. Brian’s eyes don’t seem as bright and fearless as they used to. His smile is less quick and sure. Hobbs stole Brian’s belief that he can protect the people he cares about. To the extent Brian had ever believed in justice, Hobbs had destroyed that belief and rendered it an illusion, nothing but another fool’s dream. How can Justin teach Brian to trust in love when love had broken Brian’s heart?



Brian doesn’t go out. Instead, he stays in playing Scrabble with Justin. Not only does the intellectual stimulation help keep Justin’s mind off the bashing, setting out the letters to make a word is good physical therapy. Brian says nothing when Justin drops a piece, nor does he take over and spell the word himself. He lets Justin do it and waits patiently until Justin accomplishes the task by himself. The same is true of chopping vegetables. Justin knows his mom wouldn’t have let him do it out of fear he’d cut a finger. Brian doesn’t even mention the possibility.



Sometimes it’s a good thing that Michael can’t keep a secret to save his life. When he overhears Justin and his mom talking about Hobbs’s slap on the wrist, Michael tells them that it was Brian who’d glued the judge’s ass to the toilet seat. Deb shrieks with laughter and says “that Brian Kinney.” Justin can only stand there with his mouth open. If the wrong person found out, Brian could spend years in prison! That night he gives Brian the best blowjob he possibly can, making it last until his jaw starts to ache and his throat gets sore.



Brian buys a computer. Justin is offended. Artists don’t use computers; they use their hands. Justin doesn’t need Brian to remind him that he’s handicapped. Why does Brian think he’d dropped out of school? Because he actually has a future as an artist? Is Brian being patronizing? It wouldn’t be the first time. But then one night Justin sees him wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, lying on his bed in the timeless pose of a classic nude, peeling the greenest apple Justin has ever seen. Who cares if he needs a computer when he has a muse.



“C’mon, hurry up,” Brian says. Where are they going? The grocery store. Justin loves that Brian never goes food shopping without him anymore. He makes a list of everything he’ll need to make dinners for the coming week. “What the fuck is ‘fennel’?” Brian asks and then doesn’t wait for Justin’s explanation. He buys Justin whatever he wants – from the most expensive spices to organic tomatoes. Justin knows Brian’s generosity isn’t due solely to his love of Justin’s cooking; he just likes giving Justin what he wants. It makes him happy when Justin gets excited about radicchio and stinky cheese.



Justin is making out with a guy who would be hot except he’s not Brian, but what choice does he have? He’d left Brian. Anyone with a modicum of pride would’ve done the same. Brian was only letting Justin live with him because he felt guilty. Who wants to be a fucking charity case? Suddenly, Justin feels a presence. Without having to look he knows who it is. His pulse spikes with happiness, but he still feigns anger when Brian shoos away his trick. Brian wants him back. He uncomplainingly makes promises he never in a million years would’ve made before.



Brian fucks a trick the same night Justin kisses a virgin. Only one of them broke a Rule. Justin can tell Brian knows. When Brian says “you kissed him,” Justin doesn’t reply. He just gets up and goes to the bathroom. Brian watches him leave; Justin can sense his gaze. What has he done? They’d made their agreement less than two weeks ago! Maybe he hadn’t been the only one to fuck up; maybe Brian had kissed his trick too. But in his heart-of-hearts, Justin knows that Brian kept his promise and that no matter what happens, he always will.



Brian used to nuzzle, but now he also twirls Justin’s hair. Justin’s not sure if Brian even realizes it, which makes it even sweeter. Justin likes to think Brian acts on instinct now and not just intention. The evidence suggests he’s right. Brian reaches for Justin’s hand when he laughs and smiles sappily at him when he’s drunk. Justin sometimes catches Ted and Emmett winking at each other as though they have some kind of ongoing bet. “Don’t hurt him,” Michael says one night at Woody’s when Brian goes to the bathroom. Justin is surprised. He hadn’t thought he could.



Every Friday night is “date night” but instead of going to a fancy restaurant and a movie, Brian and Justin go to the baths. Brian lets Justin pick first and grouses merely perfunctorily when Justin chooses the guy Brian clearly would’ve chosen for himself. Their tricks go down on them while they make-out, and sometimes they fuck but only side-by-side. One night they fuck twins; the next they fuck a parishioner and his priest. Afterward, they go to the diner and pig out on burgers and French fries. Sometimes they even share a sundae and argue over who gets the cherry.



It is infuriating! Brian won’t have sex without a condom! Every three months, they know at the same time that they’re both negative. It would be perfectly safe! Justin wants it more than anything. He fantasizes about it nonstop, the idea of Brian coming inside him. He imagines Brian’s face, his expressions reflecting the new sensation of skin against skin. Nothing between them. Nothing keeping them apart. But Brian won’t do it. “I want you safe,” he says. “I want you around for a long time.” After it’s far too late, Justin realizes what Brian had meant by those words.



Everyone goes to Lindsay and Mel’s for a “party.” Lindsay’s stuck-up parents are going to come by for some punch and polite chatter. Brian goes straight to the kitchen, but Justin feels obligated to mingle. Suddenly, he feels arms encircle his chest. “Come upstairs with me,” Brian whispers in his ear. “I want to suck your cock.” They lock themselves in the bathroom. When Brian goes down on him, Justin combs his fingers through his hair and watches Brian blow him. After he comes, he tries to return the favor, but Brian stops him. “That was for you,” he says.



They’re going to Miami! Justin is beyond happy! Later, when he tells Brian he’s staying in Pittsburgh for the wedding, he expects Brian to get mad. He doesn’t. Instead, he seems pleased. At first, Justin thinks it’s because Brian didn’t actually want him to go, but then he realizes the truth. Brian is proud of him for standing up for himself and doing what he wants. Justin suspects Brian also feels that rejecting him is a sign of strength, a sign of character. It makes Justin sad to realize Brian respects people for not wanting to be with him.



Brian doesn’t like Justin’s shirts and gives him money to buy new ones. Justin is offended. Firstly, there’s nothing wrong with his clothes, and second, he makes his own money. He doesn’t need Brian’s help. Brian rolls his eyes. “Yes, you have enough money to shop at The Gap,” he says. “But not at Nordstrom.” He drops Justin and Daphne off at Ross Park Mall and gives Justin $600. Solely on principle, Justin spends all of it at Old Navy. Brian is appalled, but then he realizes that everything Justin bought is a size too small. That makes everything alright.



Brian doesn’t give Justin a heads-up that he wants to make Monday night’s dinners; he just starts doing it. He’s a terrible cook, but of course, Justin pretends otherwise. The fact that Brian is cooking on Monday nights is a Big Deal; it means he comes home from work early enough to have dinner finished by six (no carbs after seven!) and doesn’t go out. He makes an ungodly mess that Justin has to clean up, but he sets the table and loads the dishwasher. Just like Justin does, Brian also lights a candle and opens a bottle of wine.



They often hold hands when they’re out walking around even though Justin has no trouble with crowds anymore. Occasionally (very occasionally) when Linds and Mel allow Brian to babysit Gus, they take him in his stroller to the nearby park. At first, Brian had asked Justin to do it by himself, but then one day, for no apparent reason, Brian accompanied him. After that, it was just assumed he’d come along every time. Granted, he silently balked at pushing the stroller, but Justin didn’t mind. It’s enough that Brian wants to be with him. It feels like a family outing.



Justin is a “flaky socialist,” and Brian is a “bullying capitalist.” Justin quotes Marx, and Brian quotes Ayn Rand.” Justin supports affirmative action. Brian calls it “tipping the playing field.” Sometimes they argue politics way into the night. Often the debate gets heated, and they yell at each other, but the resulting sex is more than worth it. Brian rims him and then takes him roughly, grunting each time he thrusts while Justin clenches his fists in the sheets. After they come, they collapse on the mattress, utterly spent and unable to remember whatever it was they’d been fighting about.



Justin’s dad is an asshole! He says he’ll no longer pay Justin’s tuition. Brian insists he’ll do it. Justin is not happy with the idea. He already owes Brian too much as it is. He loves Brian, but he doesn’t want to be beholden to him. Their relationship is unequal as it is. Brian says Justin is being stupid, which only makes Justin dig his heels in deeper, but then he’s hired to “work” at the Sap’s party and ends up kicking the Sap in the face. Needless to say, he loses his job as a go-go dancer at Babylon.



He’s going to fuck Brian. Period. End of discussion. If he’s going to accept Brian’s loan then he needs something in exchange, something to restore his manhood. Fucking Brian would help to balance the scale of power between them. He expects Brian to refuse, and sure enough, Brian resists – but only for a moment. Justin senses that Brian knows why Justin needs this so much. Justin takes the condom from him and rolls Brian onto his stomach. Penetration isn’t easy – Brian is clenching his ass, but then, suddenly, he relaxes. Justin pushes inside him all the way and starts thrusting.



Is it Justin’s imagination or is Brian being slightly clingy? They go to the diner the morning after Justin fucked him, and Brian initiates a silverware battle while they’re waiting for their breakfasts. Later Brian decides not to go to the office like he’d planned and instead they spend all day at the mall. They even eat lunch at the food court! Greasy pizza slices and giant Cokes. That night they meet the boys at Woody’s. Every time Brian waits his turn at the pool table, he moves to stand behind Justin, puts his arms around him and kisses his cheek.



Brian is going to throw a launch party for Justin and Michael’s comic! He’s going to pull out all of the stops. Print and internet ads, radio spots, targeted mailings. He’s even going to rent Babylon and have costumes for the dancers! The party will cost thousands! Justin knows part of Brian’s efforts are due to his weird clinginess whose origin Justin still can’t pinpoint, but whatever the impetus, Brian will use his formidable advertising expertise to create a launch party grander than anything a publisher would do. Justin is grateful, but it underscores an ongoing problem between them: money.



Brian is being really weird. At first, he was being clingy, but now he’s being aloof. Is it still about Justin having fucked him? He has also stopped making dinners on Monday nights and instead is going to Babylon. He makes up for it, though, when he claims he’ll take Justin snowboarding in Vermont for a week. When he bails, Justin is angrier than he’s been since the bashing, even angrier than he was at his dad. Fuck him! Justin goes to Vermont anyway. Hell, Brian had already paid for everything. Why let a spring break vacation go to waste?



Justin’s birthday sucked. Brian doesn’t do anything: birthdays aren’t worth celebrating, but then he gets Justin a hustler. Who gets their boyfriend a hustler for their birthday and then leaves so he can “have his way with him undisturbed”? Okay, so maybe Brian had gone out of his way to find a guy Justin would find hot, but still! No matter how much time and money Brian had spent, Justin couldn’t think of a less romantic gift. How appropriate Justin meets someone who is romantic. Maybe he can use Ethan as leverage to get Brian to act like a boyfriend.



Ethan is amazing. Justin can’t help it. He’s falling love. He doesn’t want to, but he is, and, frankly, it’s Brian’s fault. If Brian behaved like they were partners and not just fuck buddies, Justin would stop seeing Ethan. Like that’ll happen though! Justin goes out of his way to make them a picnic on the floor like he and Ethan had, but all Brian does is spout his bullshit about “no carbs after seven” and goes to Babylon despite Justin’s pleas. Those aren’t the actions of a man in love. Who cares that Brian wants to go bowling with him.



Brian grabs his jacket and storms out the door. Brian knows. It’s the only explanation for the humiliation he’d inflicted. Justin might even consider Brian’s actions a near-rape except his protestations had become pleas. Brian had reignited a fire inside him – a fire that had started to dwindle. God, Justin had wanted him so badly! Brian had stripped him and forced him to the floor, kissing him with the kind of hunger that Justin knew Ethan would never have. But then Brian had stopped. His heart was starting to break. Justin would have to be blind not to see that.



Justin gets into bed when Brian lifts the quilt. Had he just chosen Brian? Brian seems to think so. He’s asleep, apparently confident that Ethan had lost the game of tug o’ war over Justin. But had Ethan really lost? Brian had refused to say “I love you.” Three simple words that could potentially have mopped up the whole fucking mess. But no. He’d rather let Justin walk out the door. What is he thinking? That freedom to leave is some kind of gift of love? If he does, then Justin doesn’t want it. He wants what Ethan is offering.



Justin can’t believe it. Brian had said he was looking for him and then Justin finds him in the backroom fucking “Rage”? A hopeful flame hisses cold in Justin’s heart. He goes back upstairs, and that’s when he sees him. Ethan. He’s come all this way to a place he hates out of love for Justin? It’s hands-down The Most Romantic Thing anyone has ever done for him. Brian didn’t even know what “romance” is. They kiss and Ethan takes his hand, and that’s when he sees Brian. He looks stunned and shattered. But it’s too late. Justin leaves anyway.

Brian doesn’t say hello to Justin at the diner. He doesn’t even look at him. Justin is surprised. He has a bet with Daphne that Brian would be positively chummy just to show how unaffected he is by Justin’s departure from his life. But he isn’t chummy. All he does is read the paper. He’s always done crossword puzzles, but now he reads the paper front to back as though he actually cares what’s going on or whose team beat whose. The boys remark on how boring he is. Brian doesn’t try to defend himself; he just turns the page.



I hope you find what you’re looking for. Justin pauses. Is Brian being an asshole? After all, he’d barged into the bathroom, whipped out his dick, and then lectured Justin about not washing his hands. Justin searches his face for a hint of mockery. There is none. On the way down the stairs, Justin tries to decide if he’s hurt; after all, Brian had been what he’d been looking for until he, well. . . until he wasn’t. If only Brian had fucking said, “I love you!” I hope you find what you’re looking for. Then again, maybe he just had.



Justin stops using his credit card. Brian emails. You haven’t used your card. How are you buying your allergy meds? Justin emails back. With my salary, of course. Brian sends another email. How do you pay for art supplies, food and your half of the rent and bills after you’ve spent all your money on meds? Justin doesn’t reply. The truth is he hasn’t been buying his meds. He can’t afford to. Then he starts having allergy attacks. He’s allergic to Wolfie. One night, after his shift ends, he puts on his coat and finds pill bottles in his pocket.



Justin’s working the late shift. There’s a group in the corner laughing loudly. Deb nudges him. “That guy, the blond, he could be your long-lost brother,” she says. “It’s freaky.” He’s curious. When a nearby booth empties, he goes over to clean the table. Sure enough, the blond guy looks exactly like him. But for the guy’s leather pants, they could pass for twins. But then when the guy speaks, the similarity shatters – and so does Justin’s heart. “Guys,” he says. “You have no idea who paid to fuck me a couple nights ago. His Majesty himself. Brian fucking Kinney.”



Ethan’s pissed. Justin comes home to find him practically sawing his violin in half, he’s playing it so angrily. “Hey!” Justin shouts. “What’s going on?” “What’s going on?” Ethan shouts back. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your ex, that’s what.” “Brian?” Justin says. “What did Brian do?” Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hundred dollar bill. “Here, look what he threw in my case.” He hands Justin the bill. On it, written in red ink, are the words Hurt him and you’ll wish like I do, that you’d never met him in the first place.



“Do you want to know why he punched me?” Michael shouts. They’re having an “artistic disagreement” that had turned personal. “I’ll tell you. He punched me because I insulted you. That’s right. Brian punched me, his best friend, because of you.” Michael is furious, his eyes blazing. Justin can only stare at him. “So don’t tell me he never loved you,” Michael continues. “And don’t tell me that he doesn’t still.” Justin is in shock. He’d just assumed Brian was being a dick. He’d even agreed with the whole “monster” thing. How could he still? Brian could have lost everyone.



Brian leaves enormous tips. Justin hates to admit it, but he couldn’t pay his expenses and work only part time without them. Working more isn’t an option. Between his job and his classes, he barely has time to do his homework. Brian is paying his tuition. The thought of getting less than a 4.0 is shudder-inducing. He needs Brian to be proud of him. They might not be together anymore, but Justin still wants his approval. Every time he gets an A, he makes sure Deb knows about it. The news is sure to find its way to Brian’s ears.



Brian’s agency employs a lot of talented graphic artists who would no doubt love to design the poster for the Gay and Lesbian Center’s fundraising party, and they’d probably do it for free just to get points with their demanding boss. But Brian doesn’t ask any of them; he asks Justin. He even insists that Justin request payment and then only pretends to haggle. Five hundred dollars will pay for a month’s expenses. When Justin comes to the loft, the sexual tension is thick in the air It’s a good thing Michael comes along with his bags of take-out food.



Justin catches Brian watching him – not staring, of course, but now and then he catches a flick of a gaze. He also catches Brian shifting in his seat to hide an erection. Justin’s confidence soars. Brian still wants him! Then he feels guilty. The only guy he should be concerned with is Ethan . . . wait, did Brian just glance at him? “He’s at it again,” Kiki whispers in his ear.” “What are you talking about?” Justin asks. “Fucking you with his eyes, of course. Haven’t you noticed?” Justin blushes. Brian is no longer the only one with an erection.



Justin pauses before he turns to walk reluctantly down the stairs. Brian left the door open. It means only one thing. Brian is giving him the option to stay. Justin watches him, his movements languid, a man in his prime, a man who knows how to play Justin’s body as skillfully as Ethan plays his violin. It would be so easy to follow him, to let Brian take him. To let Brian have his way with his cock and his mouth and his hands. The invitation is obvious. But so was the warning: I will not be a guilty secret.



Brian doesn’t want to see his face every day. Justin smirks. Brian was uncharacteristically sloppy. He might as well have said, “I want you so damn much that having to see you but not being able to touch you is going to drive me out of my motherfucking mind.” Maybe Daphne’s plan has merit after all. Justin goes to Woody’s. He goes to Babylon. He hangs out by Brian’s favorite water cooler. Brian tries to look nonchalant and fails. He swallows, shuffles his feet, looks at the floor, looks at the ceiling, looks anywhere except at Justin’s innocent cock-teasing grin.



It’s not even a challenge. Justin is almost disappointed. Brian welcomes him back into his life without even one shitty remark. He was expecting a fight. He’d been preparing himself all day, but Brian makes only one request. Never ever play violin music in his presence again. Justin inhales sharply. Brian had just told him that he cares about him and doesn’t want to be hurt again. Justin wants to go to him, kneel down, take his hands and tenderly kiss his palms, but, of course, that would be way too much. “I promise,” he says softly. And means it.



They agree it would be best if Justin continues to live at Daphne’s. Instead of being upset, Justin reads it as another sign that Brian is afraid of getting close and then losing him again. He wishes they could talk about it. He wants to assure Brian that he’s not going anywhere, that there’s no place he’d rather be than by his side, but he knows Brian won’t be able to discuss it in actual words. Instead, whenever Brian takes his hand, Justin smiles and weaves their fingers together. Brian glows with happiness. “I love you, too,” Justin thinks.



Brian is angry. Justin gets it. Stockwell is Brian’s client, and Justin has a lot of nerve making copies of derogatory posters with Brian’s company’s copier. He doesn’t stop though. He just uses his salary from the diner to make copies at Kinko’s. Brian turns a blind eye. Don’t look, don’t hear, don’t speak. When Justin doesn’t go out with him, they both know what he’s doing. Brian doesn’t try to stop him. Justin strongly suspects it’s because, even if Brian doesn’t agree with him, he still wants to support anything Justin wants to do no matter what it is.



“Let’s do something extra fun tonight,” Brian says. “Let’s go to Home Depot.” Justin’s jaw drops. Home Depot? They go to the nearest store and walk up and down the aisles until Brian finds what he’s looking for. A sledgehammer. What the fuck? Brian’s grinning and humming to himself. When they get to Babylon, Brian gives him the hammer. They walk in and go straight to the locked backroom door. Brian rolls up his sleeves. Justin grins. Brian has made him part of one of his devious schemes! No more Brian and Mikey Show. It’s Brian and Justin now.



Brian mocks a couple “snuggle-wuggling” in a nearby booth. “We’d never do that,” he says contemptuously. Later, when they’re at Babylon, they dance slowly, even to fast songs, their foreheads touching. Now and then Brian gives Justin a soft kiss and gently combs his fingers through Justin’s hair. Justin wants to laugh. Doing the exact same thing at the diner is “snuggle-wuggling,” but doing it at Babylon is “hot.” Later, Brian jerks him off in the backroom. Brian never makes his tricks come after they blow him. Justin smiles against his neck. Brian has no idea how romantic he is.



Brian isn’t happy that Justin is quitting school. Justin thinks it’s because he’d paid Justin’s tuition and is annoyed that an “investment” is “going to waste.” They have a fight about it. Brian gets surprisingly emotional. “Are you telling me that you didn’t enjoy your time at PIFA?” he yelled. “Are you telling me that you learned nothing? That you met no interesting people?” Justin goggles at him. Ethan was one of the “interesting people” he met. “There’s more to life than Liberty Avenue,” Brian says. “You wouldn’t know it looking at your life,” Justin says angrily. “Exactly,” Brian replies.



Brian lets Justin hold him. He lets Justin kiss him. He even lets Justin tickle him. He never gets weird anymore. He never says shitty things out of the blue. He asks questions and waits for the answers. He does helpful things without being asked. He washes the dishes. He sometimes even opens the car door! Justin’s not sure that Brian realizes he’s doing any of these things. He’s just naturally more present. More real. He no longer closes his eyes when he comes, and he wishes Justin good night. “Sweet dreams, Sunshine,” he says with a sly, sleepy smile.

Brian might have a lot of zeros on his credit card bills, but he doesn’t in bed. Is he in some kind of competition with Michael as to who can give their partner more multiple orgasms? Actually, scratch that. Justin would prefer not to picture Michael and Ben sucking and fucking into the wee hours. Ugh. All he cares about is that coming twice in one session is no longer Brian’s goal; he’s aiming for more these days. By dawn, Justin’s having dry orgasms, which is pretty impressive given that he’s still only nineteen. Teenagers are bottomless founts of jizz.



“Hi, honey,” Brian chirps. Justin bites his lip to keep from laughing. He’s teasing and/or putting on a show for Justin’s mom who’s looking around the loft assessing an asking price. Which, by the way, is news to Justin. Brian is selling the loft? He can’t! The loft is where they made love for the first time. When Justin says so, Brian’s only response is that it wasn’t “love” – it was a rim job and a sound fucking. Justin has to bite his lip again. Brian sure remembers a lot for someone who’d claimed he couldn’t even remember his name.



This year, Brian gets Justin a birthday present. It’s not “traditional,” but it’s downright sweet. Brian bought himself an eight-week massage course. He takes Justin out to dinner at a restaurant with super hot waiters and then gives him the body rub of a lifetime, starting with his scalp and going all the way down to his toes. By the end, Justin isn’t sure he still has bones, and when Brian fucks him, he goes someplace mystical in his head. Brian’s chuckling when he comes to. Justin gives him a big dopey grin. “You’re welcome,” Brian says and kisses him.



Justin assured Brian when they got back together that he knew Brian was going to keep tricking and he was okay with that. To prove it, Justin tells him after the charity benefit for “Concerned Citizens for the Truth” that now half of gay Pittsburgh can sleep soundly in their beds knowing the loft still belongs to Brian Kinney. Justin expects him to say something along the lines of “well, I won’t let them sleep for long,” but he doesn’t. Instead, he says screw them. There’s only one person he wants in his bed, and that one person is Justin.



Justin overhears Brian tell his headhunter that he doesn’t want the low-paying job she found for him. He even tells her he’s taking another position (ha ha). Justin can’t believe it, but Brian replies that it’s okay; he still wants to start his own agency. The idea makes Justin nervous. Hadn’t Brian’s former clients turned him down? Brian could end up destitute even with the money donated to Concerned Citizens for the Truth. Brian says he’s ready to take on the challenge. Hell, what’s yet another crazy gamble? Justin suspects one of the other “crazy gambles” was falling in love.



Brian has done it again. He has hired Justin’s mom. Justin couldn’t be happier. And he couldn’t be more surprised. His mom just got her real estate agent’s license. She has no contacts, no inside scoops, no experience. Brian doesn’t hire unproven neophytes, especially not when it comes to something as important as finding office space for his new business. Yes, Justin knows his mom has real potential, but as of yet, that potential is unproven. He wants to ask Brian why he’s doing it, but then again, doesn’t he already know? This isn’t about his mom; it’s about him.



“Brian, will you please talk some sense into him?” Justin is angry. He’s not a kid, and Brian’s not his dad. “Now, now, Mother Taylor,” Brian says. “Justin’s a big boy. He should be allowed to make his own mistakes.” Grrr. Okay, so Brian didn’t grant his mom’s patronizing request, but obviously, he thinks Justin is being stupid. Brian’s probably going to give him a lecture after his mom leaves. Justin rolls up his metaphorical sleeves, ready for a fight. But all Brian says is that his haircut looks hot and kisses him. No lecture. Brian respects him too much.



Damn. It was too good to be true. Brian really is going to give him shit about the Pink Posse. Justin storms down the stairs. He’s already late. Cody and the gang are waiting for him. God, is he Brian’s lover or his wayward “sonny-boy”? Later, he bitches about it to Daphne. “Can’t you see?” she says. “He cares about you. He doesn’t want you to get hurt again.” Justin glares at her. Why is she always taking Brian’s side? “Because I’m right,” she says. “And you’re blind if you can’t see it. He loves you, Justin. He always has.”



Justin suspects Brian is jealous of Cody. Should he be? Justin can’t deny it; he is attracted to the passionate vigilante. But Cody’s not another Ethan, and Justin doesn’t want Brian to think he is. When Cody kisses him, Justin knows he shouldn’t take a shower before he and Brian have sex, but he really wants to. Fortunately, Brian isn’t home when Justin gets back to the loft. He can shower without Brian knowing, but then Brian comes home. When he sees Justin’s wet hair, he looks hurt, frightened. He grabs his jacket and leaves, slamming the door behind him.



Justin removes his belt and wraps it around Brian’s neck. Brian’s only response is an arched eyebrow even though he knows what Justin wants to do – that he wants to stop Brian’s breathing. Justin is shocked. He’d thought for sure that Brian would say no, especially after last night. It takes a lot of trust to let someone play with your breath, and Justin wasn’t sure that Brian could let himself go so completely, to the extent where his actual life is at stake. Justin tightens the noose. Brian closes his eyes and tips back his head, baring his throat.



Brian notices the bruise on his back and gives Justin a load of crap about it. What the hell? Justin’s standing up for gay rights. He’s not just sitting back being a pussy. So he has one stupid bruise? Those straight motherfuckers have more than that after he and the gang got through with them! He walks down the street angrily. Why is Brian being such a dick about everything? Justin would’ve thought he’d be proud of him for being a badass. But then an image of Brian bruised and beaten pops into his head, and suddenly he gets it.



The last time Justin had been in the Everhard bathhouse, it’d been no towel night, and everyone and their cousin had tried to touch Brian’s dick (as Brian reminded him as he gave Justin a tour of Kinnetik’s new offices). Justin also remembers something else. Despite all the attention he got, the only guy Brian fucked that night was him. Brian could’ve had anyone, but he wanted Justin. It was surprising given that they’d fucked before they went out – twice. It’d been a first. Up until that night, Brian had always fucked someone else when they went to the baths.



“You hired Ted?” Justin is astonished. Brian shrugs. “Why not? He’s a good accountant – at least he’d better be for his sake. I would’ve hired you, but you have other plans.” Justin combs his fingers through Brian’s sweat-damp hair. “I do?” he says. Brian frowns. “Of course, you do,” he says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Justin rolls onto his back and closes his eyes with a sigh. It’s like Brian can read his mind. Lately, he’d been worrying about his future. “Yeah,” Brian says. “You’re going to be a famous animator for blockbuster movies.”



“Why the hell was your phone off all day?” Justin blinks. Brian had been calling him? “What’s up?” he asks, concerned. Brian pulls a beer out of the fridge. “Nothing’s ‘up,’” he says. “I just . . .” His words peter out. He takes a swig. Justin doesn’t press him. If nothing was up, that could mean only one thing. Brian just wanted to chat. He watches Brian take another swig and then stare into the middle distance. “Still hanging out with Cody?” When Justin doesn’t answer, he downs the rest of the beer and goes to the bedroom to change.



Brian goes down on him in the backroom. It is a HUGE big deal. Brian has never mentioned going down on a trick in public before – maybe it happened when he was much younger, but certainly not in recent memory. Justin’s pretty sure Brian is relieved when he comes quickly because people are watching them. A lot of people and they’re hooting and cheering! Brian doesn’t seem embarrassed though. He sucks Justin’s cock the way he does at home, fondling his balls and deep-throating until he almost gags. When Justin starts to thrust, Brian even hums his appreciation and encouragement.



Brian finds the gun Cody gave him. This time the lecture is anything but subtle. Justin’s pissed. Not only is Brian giving him shit about something that’s important to him, he went through Justin’s things quote/unquote “looking for a light.” In other words, Brian was snooping. Jesus Christ, couldn’t he have even a little bit of privacy? And Brian of all people! Brian, for whom his business is his business. Couldn’t he extend the same philosophy to his partner? Does he respect Justin so little? Justin grabs the gun and storms out of the loft. Brian had crossed a line.



“You had no right to go to Brian!” Justin yells at Daphne. “What other choice did I have?” Daphne yells back. “To stay out of it?” “Well, that wasn’t an option.” Justin flops down on the couch. “So, what he’d say?” he asks with resignation. “Did you two bond over what an irresponsible twat I am?” Daphne sits down beside him. “No, actually. He took your side.” Justin looks at her wide-eyed. “He did? I thought he hated the whole Pink Posse thing.” “He does,” Daphne says. “But he also admires you for standing up for yourself, for fighting back.”



“I love you,” Justin shouts over the music, wrapping his arms around Brian’s neck. He’s tracked Brian down to Babylon. Just an hour ago, he’d almost shot a man, now he’s back where he belongs, celebrating being gay instead of hating people who aren’t. Like Brian said, the best revenge is to be a success. Brian kisses him. He tastes like whiskey. When he nearly trips over his own feet, Justin realizes he’s drunk. Brian only gets drunk when he’s trying to escape something. He’d been terrified. Justin kisses him in return. “It’s okay,” he says. “The Pink Posse’s history.”



Justin’s heart sinks. Why did Brian invite Lindsay on stage and not him? Please, he thinks. Please tell me it’s not because he’s pretending to be straight for the benefit of his wealthy clients. But then Brian nods at him – yes, he’d called Justin a “friend,” but at least he’d given Justin a chance to stand beside him. That’s enough, right? It wasn’t like Brian was going to hold up his glass and thank his “partner.” But then suddenly Brian is kissing him. In front of everyone. Justin’s heart soars. For all intents and purposes, they had just gotten married!



“So,” Brian says. “I’ve been thinking.” He takes a drag on their post-coital joint. “Sounds ominous,” Justin replies. “Depends on how you look at it,” Brian says. “One could call it ‘ominous,’ another could call it momentous.” Justin nudges him. “Out with it,” he says. “I want to fuck again.” Brian laughs. “Not a bad segue.” Justin arches an eyebrow. “I’ve been thinking,” Brian says again. “About cutting back on tricking.” Justin arches his other eyebrow. “How much?” he asks, curious. “To once a week,” Brian replies with a shrug as if what he’d just said is no big deal.



Brian appears anything but thrilled when Justin tells him that Bret Keller wants to make “Rage” into a movie. Justin is disappointed. He’d been sure Brian would be proud of him, but, no, Brian doesn’t even want to go out to celebrate! Instead, he mentions finishing school, and the bell goes off in Justin’s head. Right. Brian’s worried about his “investment.” Justin goes home and sits on the couch channel surfing. Why is Brian so damn adamant about finishing school when Justin has an opportunity to go to Hollywood? Justin’s finger freezes mid-click. Maybe he’d just answered his own question.



“By the way, I missed you,” Brian says. Justin merely looks at him. Yeah, right. Whatever. Brian had taken off to Ibiza with no explanation and a meager “good-bye.” They were supposed to have gone together, but Brian had gone by himself. “Prove it,” Justin says, and Brian kisses him. Justin decides to press for more, and Brian kisses him again. When Justin still says that he’s not convinced, Brian doesn’t get pissed and tell him to fuck off; instead, he kisses Justin passionately. Brian really did miss him after all! Justin forgives him. Brian had almost said, “I love you.”



Brian has cancer, and Justin has decided not to let on that he knows. It’s fucking hard as hell. Brian is obviously weak and tired. They go to Babylon anyway because Justin can’t insist that they don’t. Brian looks terrible. Justin knows they need to go home. But what can he say? He can’t just say “you’re too ill for this; let’s go home.” So he tells Brian he doesn’t feel well and wants Brian to come home with him. Brian does. Not that long ago, Brian never would’ve left Babylon if Justin was sick. Now he goes without protest.



Brian lets Justin take care of him. Justin knows it’s not easy for him, so he tries to be as nonchalant about it as possible. Brian lets Justin shop and make meals. He lets Justin drive him back and forth to work. He lets Justin rub his back while he pukes and dab away the sweat with a damp washcloth. He even lets Justin tell him that he looks exhausted and that it’s time to go to bed. It’s a really really big deal. Brian is letting himself be vulnerable and even needy. He knows Justin won’t tell anyone.



Brian can’t get it up, but that doesn’t stop him from going down on Justin. He’s frustrated, but he doesn’t lash out. Justin’s pleasure is as important to him as his own, and he sucks Justin off every night. The blowjobs are good – even better than usual, which is saying something, and Justin comes hard and often even twice. Brian is not happy that he can’t also have an orgasm, but he glows when he gives Justin one. He’s not selfish in his anger. He wants to make up for his inability to have penetrative sex. It’s romantic as hell.



Justin is at Babylon. Brian had called from work and told Justin to meet him there because he has a “big surprise.” Sure enough, he does! A big hard surprise. “Have you been with anyone yet?” Justin asks. Brian looks at him like he’s insane. “Of course not,” he replies. “I haven’t even jerked-off.” They go to the backroom. Justin’s mouth is literally watering in anticipation of having Brian’s cock in his mouth again. He fumbles with Brian’s belt, which makes them both laugh. Justin makes him come twice to the cheers (and orgasmic groans) of onlookers. Brian kisses him.



They have real dates now, not just the baths or take-out Thai and DVDs. Every week, Brian tells Justin to choose a restaurant that he wants to go, and then Brian takes him there. Sometimes they visit an art gallery afterward. A couple times they even go to the movies! If the weather’s nice, they go for long walks and talk about all kinds of stuff. Brian even opens up about his past – not a lot, but more than he ever has before. He asks Justin questions, which is also a relatively new development. Justin feels like they’re a couple.



Brian is losing his mind. He comes rubbing against pillows. He jerks off in the shower. He has to. If he doesn’t, he won’t come at all. Justin is withholding sex. He’ll let Brian kiss him, but he won’t do anything more. Why? Because Justin wants Brian to donate his beloved $2,000 Barcelona sofa to the hospice. Brian had, of course, refused, so Justin is withholding sex. Brian is sexually frustrated as hell, but he doesn’t resort to tricking. It’s sex with Justin or no one. Justin is astonished. When Brian finally donates the sofa, he fucks Justin into the mattress.



Brian’s not going on the Liberty Ride. He says he’s not in shape, which is bullshit. He’s been working out every day. He’ll be fine. More than fine. So, why all of a sudden is he not going? Justin thinks he knows why. They had planned on doing it together, but since then an invitation to go Hollywood has arisen. Justin suspects Brian wants him to go, so he’s ensuring that he will by not doing the ride. Bastard. Why does he always do shit like this? Why is he always putting Justin’s future ahead of their relationship? It hurts.



“I want you to move back in.” Justin blinks. Had Brian just said what he thought he’d said? “Huh?” “I said I’d like it if you and I were to live together.” Justin blinks again. He’d been waiting for forever to hear those words. Brian, of course, makes light of it by talking about socks and the inconvenience of Justin being away part of the time. But then he gets serious. “And for the times when you’re not around, I wouldn’t particularly mind it if you were. So, then what do you say? Should I make room in my drawers?”

Justin has to stay in L.A. longer than he thought he would. Brian greets the news with silence. What’s up? Is Brian pissed? “Why the fuck would I be pissed?” Brian asks. “I told you before you went out there that the only reason I’d be pissed is because you didn’t go.” Okay. That sounds like Brian. “I miss you,” Justin says. More silence and then: “you take care of yourself, you hear? Do the best work you can. And have the best time you can. That’s all that matters.” That also sounds like Brian. Justin hangs up feeling lonely.



Brian is balls-deep in some guy’s ass when Justin comes home. Justin watches with a mixture of excitement and jealousy. He knows Brian still has five minutes in him if he wants, but as soon as he notices Justin’s there, he comes. He’s ready for the trick to leave. After Brian showers, they order Chinese and hang-out, but they don’t have sex. Justin knows why. Brian wants to be at the top of his game when they do. He wants to make sure he shows Justin what he’s been missing. He wants to give Justin the fuck of a lifetime.



God, no one else could make Justin feel like this. No one else could know his body so well. No one could know the meaning of every sound he makes, every facial expression. Brian fucks him as though fucking is an Olympic sport and he’s going for the gold. He makes Justin come quickly, giving him that sweet shock of release, and then he makes him come again, taking longer this time. Justin is shaking all over when he comes a third time, clawing at Brian’s back with a cry. Later, he tickles Brian until he says it was great.



There were lots of galleries in L.A. Justin was surprised to find that the ones that interested him the most specialized in contemporary paintings. He started wondering if he should take a class. It would’ve been hard to find the time considering all the work “Rage” required, but it would’ve been interesting to see if he possessed any talent as a painter. When he returned to Pittsburgh, he felt lost, but then he remembered wanting to learn how to paint. It was with that idea in mind that he turned down Brian’s offer to be head of Kinnetik’s art department.



The newly reopened Babylon is an embarrassing, money-sucking fiasco. Brian seems like a deer in headlights watching $8,000 go down the drain every night. Justin has enough distance from the situation to look at it creatively. Brian has the supply; now he just needs the demand. Traditional advertising isn’t working. It’s time to think outside the box. Justin tells him about an unremarkable club in L.A. that was super popular because it looked like The Place To Be for all the beautiful people. Brian gets it. He pulls Justin close and asks him how he ever got along without him.



The security guard refers to Justin deferentially as Mr. Taylor and directs him to Brian’s new VIP lounge where Brian has a “special treat” waiting for him. The treat might be “special” (the guys are definitely hot), but it’s not a surprise. Justin is reminded of Brian’s birthday gift of the hustler. The pattern is getting old. A “special treat” would be staying in for the evening. The only surprise is that Brian hasn’t figured that out yet. He’s thirty-four-years-old. When is he going to grow out of Babylon? Justin is starting to fear that the answer is “never.”



Brian is disgusted by the whole Michael-Lindsay-Mel situation. That’s what happens when fags start acting like breeders. Gay marriages will end in gay divorces and gay families will end in messy three-way custody battles. He tells Justin that other couples will end up hating each other, but they won’t because they’re not pretending to be something they aren’t. Justin is struck by Brian’s use of the word “couple” to describe their relationship. How sad is that? Ben and Michael haven’t been together as long as he and Brian have, but they’re married. Brian can barely acknowledge he has a partner.



Brian’s syphilis is gone, and he’s horny as hell. He wants Justin to be the one with whom he’ll end his brief flirtation with celibacy. How sweet. Justin couldn’t be less interested. Thinking about Brian’s sore-covered dick is not exactly a turn-on. When he declines the invitation, Brian doesn’t say anything. He just leaves for Babylon. Justin sits on the couch, staring into space. Brian has been an asshole lately. His whole “Stepford fags” shtick is getting old. He’s alienating people with his extreme attitude about what it means to be queer, which apparently involves being blasé about venereal disease.



Justin has been thinking about his future, and he’s starting to realize it can’t include Brian. He doesn’t want to live like this anymore. Brian is at Babylon every night. As far as Justin can tell, this is how it’s going to be for the foreseeable future. He’s tired of it, and he’s getting tired of Brian, too. They’re going nowhere. He tells Brian this. Brian looks shaken. Apparently, he hadn’t seen this coming, which is a sad statement in and of itself. Brian asks him to let him know where he’ll be staying. Justin doesn’t reply before he leaves.



Brian is drunker than Justin has seen him in years, and he’s angrier than he’s been since the bashing. He storms into Michael and Ben’s home and yells insults in Michael’s face. He’s in full on rage mode, accusing Michael of having poisoned Justin’s mind against him – against their so-called queer lifestyle and infecting him with a desire for weddings and families and a cozy house in the suburbs. Justin is shocked. Brian is borderline out of control, but thankfully he leaves on his own without Justin and Ben having to get involved. Justin prays he gets home safely.



Justin hears Brian calling his name through the smoke and spitting electrical fires. How can that be? Brian is on a plane to Australia. It must be his imagination, but then suddenly Brian’s there, pulling him close, shaking with adrenaline, demanding to know if Justin is hurt. Later, Brian pulls him into his arms again. “I was so fucking scared,” he says after telling Justin he’d tried and failed to reach him on his cell phone. “I kept saying ‘please don’t let anything happen to him.’” Justin looks at him. He’s never seen Brian so caught up in raw emotion.



Predictably, Brian mocks Justin’s studio. Justin ignores him. It’s almost a relief to know that Brian is back to his old self . . . or is he? Later, after Brian leaves, Justin feels bad about having laughed at his marriage proposal. Brian had looked so hurt, so surprised. Clearly, he’d been sure Justin would be ecstatic and throw himself into his arms. But Brian didn’t really mean it. He’s exhausted and traumatized. Once he’s slept and gotten something to eat, he’ll come back to his senses. Brian doesn’t really want to get married. There is simply no fucking way.



Brian is selling Babylon. He’s selling the loft. He’s gone and bought a manor in the country (Brian hates the country even more than he hates the suburbs) with stables and a pool! He really does mean that he wants to get married. He says he’ll be anything in the world to make Justin happy, no matter what it is. If changing his views and his values and his plans for his future will make Justin happy, then Brian will do it. He will be anything Justin wants him to be. Justin is his prince and he’s trusting in love.



“By the way, bridezilla” Emmett says. “Golden gardenias are pretty expensive.” When he tells Justin the price, Justin immediately decides they’re not worth it. Whole African villages could be fed for a year on that amount of money, and Justin does have a sense of shame. Brian had told Emmett that if Justin wanted something, then he was going to get it. It was tempting to go completely crazy, but Justin knows he should hold back. Brian didn’t tell him how much the house cost, but he can guess. Why start out their married life over their heads in debt?



Lindsay tells Justin that he’s got an amazing future as a painter. A respected art critic says that all he needs to do is come to New York City to make a name for himself. He starts fantasizing about what it would be like to be famous or even semi-famous. But he’s not going to New York. He’s marrying Brian and moving to West Virginia. But word of his potential makes its way to Brian’s ear. He won’t marry Justin after all. He wants Justin to follow his dreams to New York. Justin never knew a broken heart could soar.



Brian says it doesn’t matter how often they see each other – or even if they never see each other again. He will always love Justin, regardless what their futures hold. They make love all night. After he comes for the last time, Brian buries his face in Justin’s hair. On the plane the next morning, Justin realizes Brian won’t come to visit. He won’t call or even email. Brian is setting him free. If Justin returns, it’ll be because he wants to, not because he has to. He looks out the window and smiles. “I love you, too,” he whispers.

In the cab to Daphne’s friend’s place, Justin realizes his phone is still on airplane mode. When he changes it, he hears two bleeps. Missed calls. He looks at the number and then presses his phone against his chest with a grin. But then his smile fades. He hasn’t been away for more than a few hours, and Brian is obviously already lonely. Fuck. He shouldn’t be doing this. What the hell is he thinking? He calls back. “Hey,” Brian says when he answers. His voice is scratchy. “Hey,” Justin replies. “I just wanted to remind you I love you.”

“So,” Brian says four days later, “are you settled into your roach motel?” Justin chuckles. “It’s not a roach motel and, yes, I’m unpacked.” Brian is brusque. “I’m not going to give you any money,” he says. “I’m not even going to offer.” Justin wants to hug him. “Thanks,” he says, marveling at how well Brian has come to know him and acknowledging how hard it’ll be for Brian not to know how he’s doing financially. Nonetheless, Brian buys him groceries and shit like towels, cookware, dishes, and blue 1,200 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets when he visits the following weekend.

Brian is being weird and distant. His infrequent phone calls are increasingly full of ominous wishes. Justin should “do the best work [he] can and live life to its fullest.” It makes Justin nervous. He hasn’t forgotten the catch in Brian’s voice that night when he’d raised the possibility of never seeing each other again. Brian has a habit of shoving the people he loves off cliffs if he believes he knows what’s best for them. Justin is pretty sure Brian thinks that what’s best for him is to break up. Brian believes he’s a burden. Suddenly, he stops calling.

Hours pass. Days pass. Weeks pass. Justin finally gives up – at least for the time being. It hurts like hell, but at least he understands this time. This isn’t like when Brian had cancer. Brian hasn’t vanished from his life out of fear, but love. The extent of his resolve is proof of the depth of his feelings. Justin sleeps wearing one of Brian’s t-shirts that he’d stuffed in his bag before he left and dreams of him almost every night. But he’s not miserable. He’s not ecstatically happy, but he’s not depressed. Living in New York is just lonely.

Needless to say, Thanksgiving rolls around, and Justin is not yet famous. Infamous, maybe (he’s pretty sure he’s quit more menial jobs in seven months than most starving artists quit in three years), but not famous. At his mom’s, he eats half the turkey, three helpings of mashed potatoes and more than his share of stuffing. When Brian shows up, Justin is so full he can barely get off the couch to hug him. They stay up all night watching T.V. and then fuck in the guest bedroom. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” Brian says. “It’ll just make this harder.”

Justin is crushed when he doesn’t see Brian at Christmas. He’s in Toronto visiting Lindsay and Gus. When Justin asks Michael why Michael tells him Brian was depressed after Thanksgiving. It makes Justin sad to know that spending time with him caused Brian pain. Brian didn’t forget him though. When he goes to Deb’s, she hands him an envelope. Inside is a $1,000 check. For art supplies and nothing else, Brian had written. Justin tries to call to thank him, but Brian doesn’t answer. He does text “love you” though when he finds the painting Justin left at the loft.

Got Hewlett-Packard account. That was all the email said. Nothing more. Three days later, Justin gets another email. Fucking cold as hell. Justin metaphorically holds his breath and hopes against hope that Brian will keep on emailing him. He doesn’t want to return to Pittsburgh, but not having Brian in his life has really sucked. See attached. Gus drew you a picture, the next email says. Justin doesn’t email back. He has a feeling it would spook Brian and he’d disappear again. Cynthia got engaged and pipes froze. Events allegedly not connected. Justin laughs. He’s missed Brian’s dry humor.

“I haven’t fucked anyone in six weeks, three days and fourteen hours.” Justin blinks blearily at the clock. It’s two-thirty in the morning. Is Brian drunk? “No,” he replies irritably. “I just want to let you know that you’re fucking up my sex life.” Justin has no idea what he’s talking about, but it’s nice to hear Brian’s voice after nearly four months. “I just don’t want to trick anymore,” Brian says mournfully. “And it’s your fault.” Justin still doesn’t see why and tells him so. “Isn’t it fucking obvious?” Brian snaps. “I don’t want to fuck anyone but you.”

When Brian finally shows up unannounced at Justin’s door on the anniversary of the day they’d planned to be married, Justin isn’t surprised. They fuck on the couch, only half undressed, even though Justin’s roommate is home and their apartment is the size of a matchbox. She wanders into the kitchen for a midnight snack and ignores them except for a “keep it down, you rabid sex weasels” and then wanders back to her bedroom. Afterward, they pass a joint back and forth and don’t talk. Later, after Brian leaves, Justin finds his watch. He smiles. Brian will be back.

“I forgot my watch,” Brian says when he calls the following night. Justin says he knows and refrains from suggesting he overnight it FedEx. “It’s worth a bajillion dollars, and I don’t want you pawning it for art supplies,” Brian elaborates. “I’ll need to come get it.” He sighs dramatically. “Clearly,” Justin replies. The next day, instead of sending the watch, Justin sends Brian a copy of his key. Just in case I’m at work when you get here, he writes on a Sticky Note. Don’t let the cat escape. Actually, on second thought, please do let the cat escape.

Justin comes home Friday evening from his shitty job to find Brian in jeans and T-shirt, lying on the couch, nursing a beer and reading Justin’s porn. “Hi, honey,” he says and then holds up one of the magazines open to the centerfold. “You appear to have a type,” he says, referencing the tall, brown hair, hazel-eyed model. “Except my dick is bigger than his. Wanna see?” Later, they make use of the couch again, except this time they talk rather than fuck on it. Well, they do that too, but only after they’d talked well into the morning’s early hours.

Justin doesn’t move back to Pittsburgh, and Brian doesn’t move to New York. But there are compromises. Justin quits his humiliating gig as a dishwasher for a swank midtown restaurant and lets Brian pay his rent so he can work on his art full time. Setting his own schedule means that he can spend a week now and then in Pittsburgh instead of the occasional weekend. Meanwhile, Brian finally acknowledged he was a control freak and agreed to work remotely once in a while, which meant they saw each other almost every weekend. It’s enough . . . for a decade.

They get married on Brian’s birthday in a low-keyed ceremony before a small audience. It was Justin’s idea. He wanted to give Brian a reason not to dread the date anymore. “Time to wake the rings from their long hibernation,” Brian says the night before, and Justin marvels again that Brian has kept them for all this time. They take the rings out of their box and try them on, but they’ve both gained weight and neither fits. They fall into a heap laughing their heads off. For some reason, it’s the absolute funniest thing in the whole damn world.