"Do we really have to tell them?" Justin sighed loudly as he snuggled in closer to Brian, nestling his head on the older man's shoulder. "Can't it be 'just us' for a little while longer?"

"As much as I'm enjoying our little honeymoon, I daresay that a certain ragtag extended family is expecting yours truly to host a Christmas dinner worthy of a magazine photo spread." Brian let out a sigh of his own as he wrapped an arm around Justin's body, curling his fingers around Justin's upper arm. "And, unfortunately, as influential as I may be, I still haven't figured out a way to modify the calendar or make time slow down."

"Too bad." An amused grin spread across Justin's face. "I could think of a lot of ways we could use that particular set of skills."

Brian snorted. "If it was up to you, I'd never go to work again, huh?"

"Oh, you would… you have to make enough money to maintain our lavish lifestyle. But if we could just extend the night… and the morning…"

"You can always come visit me at Kinnetik, you know. There's a reason I chose to put a sofa in my office…" Brian let his voice trail off, turning his head to kiss Justin's temple.

"Do you think they're going to kill us when they find out?" Justin was staring up at the ceiling, his body tucked against Brian's.

Huffing out a laugh, Brian rolled over onto his side to face Justin, propping himself up on his elbow. "Isn't it a little late to be worrying about that?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Mostly, I'm worried about Debbie. Do you think she's going to kill us? I mean, I know Mom was at least a little disappointed that she wasn't there to see it, even though I know she's happy for us. Debbie, on the other hand..."

"Have you met Debbie Novotny? Of course she's gonna be pissed. But she'll be mad for about three seconds, then smack us both upside the head and leave bright red lipstick prints on our cheeks and tell us how fucking glad she is that we both finally came to our senses."

"I hope you're right."

"I've known her a lot longer than you have. Trust me, I'm right. She'll be fine. Everyone else will be too."

Justin reached out for Brian's hand, linking their fingers together. "I still can't believe we did it."

"Well, believe it, Sunshine. You made an honest man out of me."

"Rings, vows, and all."

Two weeks before, Brian had been standing beside Justin on a beach in the Caribbean, doing something that once would have been so far outside the realm of possibility for him that he would have laughed in the face of anyone who dared to suggest he'd end up getting married. To Justin Taylor, no less -- his teenage stalker and the president of his fan club, and the man who had cracked Brian wide open, despite his best efforts to keep his walls up.

But he was, and he had.

They'd planned the wedding within days of Justin making a phone call to Brian saying that he wanted to come home for good. When he'd told Brian he'd been thinking… always a dangerous sign. That was the night Justin told him he was afraid he'd made a huge mistake. That he wished they would have gotten married. Brian still wasn't quite sure what came over him when he heard Justin say those words, but his response had been almost automatic: "Then let's do it."

A few weeks later, they were getting married at an island resort.

Brian would never forget the way that the golden sunset had made Justin's skin glow and his eyes sparkle, and the way the gentle breeze had ruffled his hair as they made their promises to one another. The photo taken of the two of them sharing their first kiss as husband and husband sat in a prominent position on the mantle of the living room fireplace in their mansion in West Virginia -- their first-ever 'family' photo, Brian supposed. Hopefully the first of many.

Being married -- making a commitment to spend the rest of his life with just one other person -- was something Brian Kinney had claimed to never want. And yet, here he was, wearing a wedding ring, having committed his life to Justin for good. But they still hadn't told the family.

Instead, they'd been enjoying a two-week "honeymoon" of sorts, getting settled into the house and planning the Christmas dinner Brian had already begrudgingly agreed to host long before he and Justin had decided to take the plunge and make things official. It had been a bit of a romantic retreat for the two of them, and a nice departure from the all-too-brief weekend trysts in which they'd been engaging during Justin's two years in New York. Even though Brian had always booked a fancy hotel room for their time together in Manhattan, there was just something different about being together with Justin in the house he had bought for the two of them to share -- sitting by the fire, sharing a kiss and a bottle of wine, and otherwise being the very vision of "ridiculously romantic" that Brian would have once soundly rejected.

Over the course of the past two years, though, Brian had realized that he did actually like those things, so long as he got to share them with Justin. Carriage rides through Central Park and candlelight dinners in fancy restaurants Justin couldn't afford had become a regular part of the weekends Brian spent in New York. Although there was certainly plenty of time spent in bed in the hotel room -- he was still Brian Kinney, after all -- the romance quickly became something Brian enjoyed as well, mostly because he loved seeing the way Justin's eyes would light up when he smiled, and feeling the warmth of Justin's hand in his. In New York, Brian didn't have a reputation to uphold, so he was free to be however he liked without hesitation. Now, he was still trying to figure out how he was going to navigate being a married man in Pittsburgh.

Not that anyone who really knew Brian would be surprised, in spite of his public insistence that he was "fine" being back on his own, free to engage in as much debauchery as he wanted. Those who did know him had already figured out that Brian-without-Justin wasn't really the same person he had been when he was 29, and it wasn't just age that had changed him.

It was meeting the one person who understood him in a way no one else did. Who wasn't afraid to stand up to him when he was acting like a jerk. Who called him out on the bullshit that had been his mantra since his teenage years and showed him that love didn't have to be a lie -- it could be real and honest. And a nice accompaniment that made the fucking even better.

"We should probably get out of bed, huh?" Justin sighed.

"Eh, the caterers aren't coming until four, so by my calculations, that means we have…" -- Brian paused and turned his head to glance over at the clock on the nightstand -- "...at least five more hours to do whatever the fuck we want."

"Whatever shall we do, Mr. Taylor-Kinney?" Justin grinned as he looked up at Brian.

Brian rolled over so that he was on top of Justin and pressed his lips to his husband's. "I think I have a few ideas… Mr. Taylor-Kinney."

***

By the time four o'clock rolled around, a surprise snow shower had blanketed the grounds, though it didn't seem to be sticking to the road. Brian wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or not, given that snowy roads would net the two of them a few more nights alone in wedded bliss, but he supposed they'd still have to tell the family eventually, unless they never planned to leave the house again. Although that didn't sound like the worst thing.

One advantage of living in a huge mansion was having literally everything they could ever want right at their fingertips -- from Brian's fully-functional home office to Justin's sizable studio on the second floor, and a home theatre room whose fixtures had cost Brian almost as much as his vintage Corvette, just to name a few. The only real disadvantage he could think of was the fact that ordering food to be delivered was impossible, unless you wanted greasy pizza from the mom-and-pop shop in the rundown couple of blocks that passed for "downtown" in Middle-of-Nowhere, West Virginia. But that just meant that Justin cooked more often -- another thing Brian secretly enjoyed.

Still, maybe it was better to get the "big reveal" over with, to deal with the sarcasm and the teasing and get on with their lives.

Brian found Justin standing in front of the window in the formal dining room, watching the snow fall. Justin had spent the last hour putting the finishing touches on the decor -- adjusting the greenery, lighting the candles, and making sure everything looked perfect.

"Your mother will be so proud that her baby boy is a proper WASP after all," Brian murmured, wrapping his arms around Justin from behind. "It looks great."

Turning to face Brian, Justin lifted himself up onto his toes to kiss him. "Thanks. I had a pretty nice canvas to work with. I still can't believe you stayed here… had the whole place renovated and decorated… even after I left."

Brian shrugged and pulled his lips between his teeth. "I figured maybe it was time for a new beginning. And the well-over-asking-price offer I got on the loft didn't hurt either."

"Who bought it, anyway?"

"Who the hell knows? My only stipulation was that it couldn't be that motherfucker Brandon. Other than that, I really don't give a shit. I've moved on."

"Who would've thought… Brian Kinney, the forever-young-and-unattached King of Liberty Avenue, would be all grown up and well… attached." Justin wrapped his arms around Brian's waist, pulling their bodies closer together.

"Wasn't that what you wanted all along?"

"Only if you wanted it too."

Before Brian could figure out how to respond, movement outside the window caught his eye, and he turned to see an unfamiliar car, probably a rental, pulling into the driveway with Melanie at the wheel. "Looks like our first guests are here," he said, grateful for the opportunity to change the subject. Not that he was opposed to growing up -- after all, he was getting closer to forty -- but he still wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it. Maybe he was still clinging to a little bit of his past, still a little scared of what the future might bring. After all, it was unfamiliar territory for him. Being with Justin made it easier, but every now and then the realization of just how much their lives had shifted in the previous month would start to set in and make Brian wonder if Justin had given up too much to be with him.

"Here goes nothing, huh?" Justin said, weaving his fingers through Brian's and giving them a squeeze as an encouraging -- if slightly nervous -- smile spread across his lips.

Nothing, indeed.

But they had to start somewhere.

Gus was the first to bound through the door, practically throwing himself into Brian's arms. Brian could feel his son's excitement as the little boy clung to him, holding on for several seconds before he realized Justin was standing there too.

"Justin!" Gus shrieked, untangling himself from Brian so he could throw himself at Justin instead, while Brian stood to greet Lindsay, who was brushing the snow off her jacket just inside the doorway.

"Well, isn't this a nice surprise!" she said, smiling as she watched Gus greet Justin. Once Gus had released Justin and taken off running up the stairs -- presumably to the large playroom Brian had furnished especially for the kids when they visited -- Lindsay moved to give Justin a hug, then Brian. "It's so good to see you both."

At that moment, Melanie appeared in the doorway, holding the hand of a rosy-cheeked Jenny Rebecca. "Sorry," Melanie said, "she couldn't resist the snow."

"It's her favorite thing," Lindsay added, smiling as she knelt down to unzip the little girl's coat and take off her snow-covered boots.

Catching a glimpse of Lindsay's simple, gold wedding band made Brian suddenly hyperconscious of the ring on his own left hand, and he wondered if perhaps he and Justin should have taken their rings off until they made their big announcement. Although maybe it would be interesting to see who was really paying attention.

After Melanie greeted Brian and Justin each with a hug, she took J.R. upstairs to join Gus in the playroom, while Brian, Justin, and Lindsay moved into the living room, talking idly amongst themselves.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Brian asked, gesturing toward the mahogany bar cart that sat in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf along the far wall.

"I'm still surprised you don't have a full staff," Lindsay commented. "This just seems like the sort of house where one would have a staff."

"I like my privacy." Brian shrugged as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "The last thing I need is a fucking butler breathing down my neck. Or a chef trying to fatten me up."

"I would've thought a fucking butler would be right up your alley," Melanie said, stepping into the room, a wry grin on her face. "And I'll take one of those, while you're pouring."

Once everyone had a beverage in-hand, they settled into the warmly-furnished living room for a little adult conversation while listening for any signs of trouble upstairs. Lindsay was about halfway through a story about a nightmare buyer she had at the gallery she managed in Toronto when she stopped suddenly, her eyes fixed on Brian's left hand, which was resting on the arm of the loveseat he was sharing with Justin.

"Oh my goodness," she said, as realization dawned in her eyes and on her face. "You did it… You really did it!"

"Did what?" Melanie looked at her wife, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"They got married!" Lindsay cried. "Look, they have on rings! When? Where? Why didn't you tell me? Wait, does this mean you're moving to--"

Before Lindsay could finish her breathless inquisition, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell, Brian thought to himself as he set his glass down on the coffee table and stood up. "That's probably the caterer."

"Hold on," Lindsay objected, standing along with him. "You can't just leave without answering me."

"You'll find out all the details later, I promise. In the meantime, let's keep this between us." Brian pressed his index finger to Lindsay's lips.

"But--"

"No buts. We'll talk about it soon enough." As Brian stepped out of the living room and into the foyer, he made a mental note that he was going to have to be a little more inconspicuous with his left hand -- at least until after dinner -- and he hoped that Justin would do the same, because he really only wanted to tell the whole story one time. For the sake of efficiency, if nothing else. And perhaps to minimize the amount of teasing, albeit good-natured, he'd have to endure. He was well aware of everything he'd said in the past when it came to marriage and coupling and how much his life now contradicted his words, and he didn't need reminding.

When Brian opened the door, he was already prepared to direct the caterer into the kitchen, but instead, he found himself face to face with Debbie Novotny and her husband Carl. Debbie was wearing a bright green sweater with Rudoph the Red-Nosed Reindeer printed on it, and Brian had no doubt that the nose probably lit up. Carl, on the other hand, was dressed far more conservatively, in khakis and a maroon button-up shirt.

"Glad we got the right fuckin' place!" Debbie said loudly, pushing her way into the foyer, casserole dish in hand. "Jennifer wasn't kidding when she said it was a mansion. And all the way out here. I have to say, I never would've thought you of all people would buy a house in West Virginia. Which way's the kitchen?"

"I told you not to bring anything," Brian sighed as he stepped back to allow his surrogate mother and her beloved to come in.

"Nonsense. You know it's not Christmas without my lasagna, and I seriously doubt those fancy caterers of yours can even come close to the Grassi family recipe."

"Kitchen's straight ahead on the right," Brian said in a resigned, still slightly frustrated tone as he closed the door and exchanged looks with Carl, who merely shrugged and held his hands up in mock surrender. "And where the fuck is the caterer?" he added, more to himself than anyone else.

"Probably got lost on the way here!" Debbie called, already halfway to the kitchen. "This place is in the middle of fucking nowhere."

"That was intentional," Brian said under his breath as he followed Debbie down the hall and into the kitchen. One distinct advantage to moving thirty minutes outside the city had been a marked decrease in the amount of people dropping by unannounced, including a certain redhead with a propensity for showing up with a joint and tuna macaroni casserole.

"Holy shit!" Debbie's voice rang out from the kitchen before Brian had even gotten there. "For someone who doesn't cook, you've got one hell of a kitchen."

"Justin cooks." The words had no sooner left Brian's lips than he realized he probably shouldn't have said them if he didn't want to give too much away, but it was too late for that now.

"Sunshine's a damn good cook, actually," Debbie said, thankfully oblivious to the implications behind Brian's words. "He saved my ass a few times when he was living with Vic and me and I had to work late. I guess I didn't think he was coming home very much. He sure as shit hasn't been to visit me. He'd better have a good excuse, because his ass may be cute, but that won't keep me from kicking it."

"What's this about my ass?" Justin's voice joined the conversation from the doorway, where he stood leaning against it, a smile spreading across his face.

"Sunshine!" Within seconds, Debbie had Justin in one of her crushing bear hugs, holding him as if she never wanted to let him go, and Brian had a feeling that all was forgiven.

Brian pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He'd used this caterer before for events at Kinnetik, and they were usually early -- never late. But it was getting close to 4:30, and they still weren't there. Maybe Debbie was right and they were lost, but honestly, Debbie was the first person to ever claim to have trouble finding the house. Sure, the area was rural, but the address was right on a state highway, so it wasn't that remote -- just remote enough that they had plenty of privacy (and peace and quiet).

However, peace and quiet was not the name of the game on this particular night.

Over the next thirty minutes, the doorbell kept ringing, and people kept arriving, but none of them were the caterer. Soon, they had a living room full of people and plenty of beverages, but no food in sight other than the lasagna Debbie had brought. Thankfully, in all of the pandemonium that seemed to follow with each arrival and their realization that Justin was there, in the flesh, no one other than Lindsay had noticed the rings. Even so, the loud conversation that kept getting louder was starting to give Brian a headache. He had just swallowed the last of the whiskey in his glass -- and started to wonder if the lasagna was going to be dinner after all -- when the bell rang one last time and it was finally the caterers, who apologized profusely for being late, saying they had trouble finding the address.

"Told ya," Debbie shouted smugly from the living room, before draining the last of her second glass of wine. Everyone else was still on their first beverage as far as Brian knew, but Debbie seemed to be diving right in, making Brian wonder whether or not he'd ever seen her drunk. He wasn't sure he had, but he had a feeling that was about to change.

Starting to wish he'd never agreed to host this dinner, which he had a strong suspicion Debbie had only "requested" (though "demanded" would have been a more accurate description) so she could scope out the house, Brian showed the caterers to the kitchen and helped them start unpacking serving pans, purely because it was a good excuse to stay out of the living room. He'd just pointed them in the direction of the dining room, where Justin's beautifully decorated serving table awaited, when Justin walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Brian's torso.

"I'm so glad we're doing this," Justin said softly. "It's so nice to have everyone together, in our home. I missed everyone more than I thought."

"You might have missed them, but I've been right here the whole time, and I think I'm gonna need a lot more alcohol to get through the rest of the night." Brian turned around and pulled Justin into his arms, trying his best to ignore the loud conversation coming from the living room, which sounded like Emmett regaling the crowd with some overly-dramatic story about a party he'd recently hosted, alongside the squeals and laughter of Gus and Jenny Rebecca, who were chasing each other through the foyer.

"Just a few more hours, and it'll be back to just us again. And I'll let you have your way with me."

"Is that a promise?"

"A vow."

***

Brian kept his left hand in his lap for most of the meal, which consisted of roast turkey with cranberry apple stuffing, mashed potatoes, and green beans. They'd nearly been forced to serve lasagna on the side after Debbie -- who was scandalized that her traditional holiday dish wasn't being served at all -- insisted that someone else might want some. But Justin had saved the day by telling her just how much he'd missed her lasagna and promising he'd put it to good use later on, which seemed to pacify her.

The family had filled up their formal dining table as well as the smaller table they'd added in the corner, with everyone crammed in elbow to elbow, but they all appeared to be enjoying themselves in spite of the close quarters. Brian had just put his fork down, despite having only eaten about half of what was on his plate, when he felt the fingers of Justin's right hand curl around his left, which was still lying on his thigh.

Justin gave him a reassuring smile, as if he was somehow privy to the thoughts that were racing through Brian's head as the moment of truth grew closer. Normally, seeing that smile made Brian feel better -- and not seeing it on a regular basis was one of the things that had made being apart for over a year so hard -- but this time, Brian wasn't sure there was much of anything that was going to alleviate his anxiety other than getting it the fuck over with. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous; after all, they'd already done the deed, so it wasn't like anyone's reaction was going to change anything. And he'd been the one reassuring Justin earlier that morning, no less. But the thought of having to own up to contradicting the very mantra he'd lived by for so long still made him uneasy.

Michael was sitting across from Brian, holding J.R. in his lap, which made for a decent distraction, given that Michael kept making funny faces at her as he tried to get her to eat small bites of everything on his plate. Meanwhile, Brian was thanking the good lord above that he'd never done that with Gus -- at least, not in front of other people.

"So, Justin, when are you heading back to New York?" Ben's voice pulled Brian's attention away from his best friend's embarrassing interactions with his daughter and back into the conversation that was happening next to him. Apparently step one of the "big reveal" was happening a little earlier than originally planned.

"Actually, I'm not."

Jennifer smiled knowingly from the other side of the table. She was the only one who knew what was coming, because she'd helped them move Justin's things back from New York and there was no way in hell that Justin would have ever been able to keep their wedding plans from his mother. But to everyone else, Justin's response came as a total surprise.

"What?" Lindsay's voice joined the conversation from Justin's other side. "But I thought you said your first show in the city was a success. It sounded like you had a lot of good leads for the future, too."

"It was, and I do, but… New York isn't quite what I thought it would be. It feels like everything is a struggle, just trying to keep a roof over my head and still find time to paint too. And everything is so expensive. I'm tired of wishing that I had more time to create, but knowing that if I don't go to work and I don't earn good tips that night, I'm screwed. And not in a positive, life-affirming way."

Brian let out a barely-audible chuckle at Justin's use of one of Brian's favorite phrases, thankful for the younger man's attempt at lightening the mood. Then, he suddenly noticed how quiet the rest of the room had gone.

"Anyway, I've realized a few things in the last year or so," Justin continued. "One, I can paint anywhere. Two, it's a hell of a lot easier to be creative when I'm happy. And three…" Justin paused as his fingers tightened around Brian's under the table. "Brian makes me happy, and when we're apart, well…" Justin shrugged and looked down at his plate for a second, then back up, leaving the sentence unfinished. "So I'm staying here. For good. And don't ask me if I'm sure it's what I want, because I am. And it is." He took a breath and looked over at Brian, as if checking to see if the older man was ready before he said any more.

Brian gave him a slight nod, thankful that Justin was doing all of the talking, saving him from trying to find words to announce their news other than, "Yeah, we're married, so what?" For as much as Brian had come to terms with the idea that he could be into romance under the right circumstances (and with the right person), he still wasn't much of one for public declarations of love, and that was exactly what was making this so damned difficult.

"And…" Justin paused again, this time to smile at Brian and give his hand one last squeeze before pushing his empty plate aside and moving his own left hand to the table, which put his wedding band in clear view of everyone around them. "We thought it was time to make good on a promise we made to each other a long time ago."

Despite the obviously inebriated state she'd been in for the last half-hour as she consumed her third glass of wine -- somehow having even less of a filter than her normal lack thereof -- Debbie was the first to focus in on Justin's hand, exclaiming, "Holy shit!" as she put two and two together.

Brian laid his own left hand over Justin's, weaving their fingers together as murmurs of realization and surprise made their way around the table like a wave, soon turning into warm smiles and words of congratulations.

"Never say never, huh?" came Ted's voice from one end of the table, followed by "Oh my goodness, baby, I'm so happy for both of you!" from Emmett.

"And when the fuck were you planning on telling us?" Debbie said, her semi-demanding tone more than a bit undermined by the slight slur of her words.

"Tonight," Brian said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at his surrogate mother's all-too-predictable reaction, though she hadn't smacked either one of them yet, and it seemed likely that the distance between them would keep that from happening. "And it's not like we've been keeping it a secret. We just haven't… left the house much in the last couple of weeks, that's all." Brian smirked as he and Justin shared a look, and Justin stifled a laugh.

"Keeping the marriage bed warm, I'm sure, knowing you two," Michael joined in. When Brian looked over at him, he was smiling. "But seriously, congratulations. I'm glad you're happy. You both deserve it."

At that moment, Ben raised his glass and signaled for the others to do the same. "To Brian and Justin… May you enjoy a lifetime of happiness!"

Ben's sentiment was echoed around the table as glasses clinked together and everyone took a sip of their beverage of choice, toasting the happy couple -- two descriptors that, back in his twenties, Brian wouldn't have ever thought would be used to describe himself. But now, he was happy, and he honestly felt like he'd found the person who made him feel complete, even when he hadn't known anything was missing.

***

Two hours later, the house was quiet, all of the gifts had been opened, the living room had been cleared of wrapping paper, and the Christmas tree had been righted and secured after a bit of a… mishap… about halfway through the gift exchange.

"I can't believe you got Gus a Power Wheels Corvette," Justin said, his arm draped lazily over Brian's shoulder as they sat together on the sofa, in front of the fire, watching the snow fall outside the window. "Mel and Linds are going to kill you."

"Well, I didn't think he was going to ram it into the Christmas tree first thing," Brian chuckled.

"Good thing Drew was standing there to grab it before it fell, otherwise we'd have really had a disaster on our hands. But either way, I don't think we'll ever forget tonight."

Brian turned to face Justin, the slightest hint of a smile spreading across his lips as he stared into the depths of his husband's blue eyes. "I know I won't."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Justin's in a warm, tender kiss.

"I'm glad you came back," he said, his voice soft and showing a little more emotion than he would have liked, but with Justin, it felt safe. Good, even.

"I'm glad I came back too." Justin's eyes glistened in the firelight as he returned Brian's smile. "Because now I have everything I ever wanted."

"So do I, Sunshine. So do I."