Justin's POV

From the moment the plane landed in Pittsburgh, I felt queasy, and my legs wouldn't stop shaking.

It wasn't the first time I returned to my hometown, but it would be the first time in almost ten years I'd see him. Every time I visited, I studiously avoided him. He was either gone on a business trip, or I simply went places I knew he'd never be caught dead in.

This time it was different.

We had to be in the same place.

I remember years ago, someone told me I should take caution when it comes to love. I did.

You were strong and I was not. My illusion, my mistake. I was careless.

Two months ago the miracle we'd been waiting for years, happened. On May 20th, 2014 same sex marriages became legal in Pennsylvania. To celebrate the glorious event, Michael and Ben decided to get married again…in their home state, legally accepted.

Honestly, I thought it was insane. They had been happily married for years, and didn't need the legal proof, but it was probably for their mental health.

As I waited for my duffel bag to appear at the baggage claim, I thought back on the day I left Pittsburgh behind to pursue my dream career in New York City. In the very beginning, I talked a lot with Brian—on the phone, through e-mails, we made plans to visit. It never happened though, our schedules coming in conflict all the time. Until he stopped answering my e-mails and calls. After days of no reply, I turned to Michael, who told me to give it a rest. In that moment I knew we were truly over.

Falling out of love is hard, falling for betrayal is worse. Broken trust and broken hearts.

Long distance relationships didn't work; especially when one part of the duo was named Brian Kinney, who needed to fuck on a regular basis.

Reluctantly and with a heavy heart I let him go. I hoped we'd still talk, but then when I visited on Christmas and found out he'd taken off to Mexico just hours before I landed, it was painfully clear. That was the moment I started avoiding Brian religiously.

And now when all is done, there is nothing to say. And if you're done with embarrassing me on your own you can go ahead tell them.

Tell them it's impossible to have a relationship. Tell them it's impossible for you to change. Tell them you won.

For nine years I fooled myself that I'd forgotten him, but the truth was that I always thought of him and there wasn't a day when he wasn't on my mind. Hanging on a ghost of my past kept me from having a relationship. I tried a few times, but after only a few months they all left.

They left because of me—I pushed them away with my behavior. After some time of being with someone, the smallest things bugged me, like an uncapped toothpaste tube, or spilled food on the kitchen counter, going through my shirts when they ran out of clean ones.

It didn't take me long to understand these things annoyed me because I was used to having control, and I knew Brian would have never done any of them; even though he didn't give a shit about my feelings. We never had to fight over uncapped toothpaste tubes, or spilled food, or clothes, or dirt on the floor, because we got each other and liked things clean.

I closed off from love. I didn't need the pain. Once or twice was enough, and it was all in vain.

In the end, I gave up trying to find someone and concentrated on painting. I got my release at a small club a few blocks away from my studio. My life was close to perfect. The only missing aspect was the love part.

I'd become a huge success, traveled around the world, and got more money than I knew what to do with it.

Time starts to pass before you know it you're frozen.

At last, my beat-up, black duffel bag arrived and I picked it, fighting a smile. I had this thing ever since I'd left my parents' house all these years ago. I couldn't get rid of it for sentimental reasons, and it was practical for my traveling too.

With all the money I had, I could have bought an expensive Versace or Gucci or whatever else label…but the baggage handlers were never careful and it wasn't like I needed a label. Everyone I met at the galleries, always eyed me curiously, yet admiringly at how down-to-earth I was and how the fame hasn't gotten to my head. Truthfully, I couldn't even grasp how successful I was.

The last time I checked my bank account, I had to count digit by digit to make sure I read the number correctly.

Slinging the bag over my shoulder, next to my laptop bag, I turned to walk outside the airport, not ready to face the music, but it was a must. Maybe, just maybe I could avoid seeing him until the wedding.

Focused on the sling of my bag which kept falling off my shoulder, I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings, and when I crashed into someone I wanted to die of embarrassed.

"Shit. Sorry." I looked at the person I hit and blanched.

The young boy looked vaguely familiar, and it seemed he knew me as well. His hazel eyes widened, staring at me curiously. "Jus!"

I choked on my spit. Only one person called me that, and… holy fucking shit. He'd grown up. "Gus?"

"GUS!" A loud voice called from behind him.

"Look who I found, Ma!" He pointed to me, beaming at Lindsay, with all the exuberance a teenager could have.

Our eyes met for a fraction of second, but it was enough for her to recognize me. I knew I hadn't changed much, but she had. There were age lines on her face, especially around her eyes and mouth, and her blonde hair was spiked with gray.

"Justin!" She caught me in a bone-crushing hug that could rival Debbie's. I took it as practice for the moment I saw Debbie.

"Hey, Linz." I kissed her cheek. "Where's Mel?" I looked around, not seeing her or JR.

"The pest threw a tantrum in the airport about her clothes, demanding she wanted another dress. They lost the plane," Gus explained, rolling his eyes.

"The pest?" I echoed, staring confused at Lindsay.

"He means Jenny. And for the last time, if you call your sister a pest one more time…"

"She is a pest, Ma."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I get it."

I held my fist for him, grinning as he bumped it.

"Don't encourage him!"

"What? I know how he feels, Linz. I have a younger annoying sister. Well, at least I found her annoying when I was his age." I ruffled Gus's hair. "So you're waiting for Mel?"

"The next flight is later tonight, so no."

"Let's go then. It's so wonderful to see you!" I smiled, looking from mother to son. Especially Gus. He looked so much like his father, it hurt.

As we approached the exit, Gus turned to me. "So where are you staying?"

"I'm going home to hog Mom's couch." I shrugged.

She still lived in the small house she bought after the divorce. It had only two bedrooms and a small living room, a kitchen, and one bathroom. But it was enough for her, Tuck, and Molly. I'd come to accept Tucker, though there were times when it still made my skin crawl, especially when they kissed.

"You can come with us. Dad misses you. You'll have room there."

"I doubt," I mumbled, not sure what I doubted more— that he had room for me at the loft if he planned to keep Lindsay and Gus there, or that he missed me.

"Gus, what have we talked about sticking your nose in other people's lives?"

"But, Mom! Dad misses Justin."

I caught Lindsay's eye needing confirmation. She gave me a small smile.

I didn't want to get my hopes up.

"If you're not ready, you should head in the other direction," she said gently.

Before I could question her words, I heard it. That melted honey voice I've missed so much. It was more like melted lava at the moment because he was shouting at someone.

"You fucking idiot! Look what you've done!"

Brian was crouched at the back of a large SUV, which made me a little sad meaning he'd given up the 'vette, inspecting the protection bar. The man next to him looked scared shitless, babbling apologies about not seeing that he was parked.

"How the fuck could you miss I was parked? I hope you have insurance because you're paying for this mess!"

"Uh-oh. Dad's toy got damaged." Gus chuckled.

"Shush!" Lindsay hissed. "You can still go, Justin."

"I…" My eyes were trained on a casually dressed Brian. He was wearing beige shorts, and I tried placing a time when I'd seen him wear such a thing and came up empty, he also had a silky colorful shirt that looked more like something Emmett would wear, and he had sandals.

What the fuck had happened to the label queen I once knew?

Gus walked over, wrapping his arms around Brian's neck from behind, making him jump startled. Then he turned around to hug his son, standing, and effectively forgetting about the idiot who'd crashed into his car. He looked over Gus's head to Lindsay, and the moment he noticed me, he froze.

His eyes widened, his mouth opened as he stared at me, through me.

I could feel my own face betraying me, and I wished I had listened to Lindsay and ran for it while I still could.

She sensed my distress, and stepped in, giving a statuesque Brian a kiss on the cheek before ushering Gus inside the car.

I reminded my legs how to work, one foot in front of the other…until I reached Brian. My eyes studied his face, still handsome with only a few age lines I knew he hated; his lips looked just as kissable as always. Part of me wanted to throw myself at him and wipe the years we hadn't spoken and hadn't seen each other, but I detained myself.

He seemed unable to do the same as his long arms wrapped around me, hugging me tightly, his nose burrowed in my hair. "Sunshine." My ears must have been deceiving me, because I could have sworn I heard a sniff.

Brian Kinney didn't sniff.

There it was again in my ear.

"I hate tearful reunions," I said lightly, squeezing my eyes tightly in hopes to keep my own tears at bay.

It was easier to fight the losing battle when I wasn't in his arms, but in his warm embrace I could only remember the good times, the happy moments we spent together.

"You're still a twat." He pulled away, smiling with tears shining in his eyes.

"And you've lost your sense of fashion," I said mock-horrified, tugging lightly at his shirt.

"What? You don't like this? It worked miracles in Hawaii last month."

I pressed my lips in a hard line, trying not to laugh. It was difficult to be mad at someone you loved so much.

"How many lucky ones have seen you without it?"

His eyes closed for a second, and I could see regret marring his face. "A few."

Huh. He went with the truth.

"Room for one more in the car? If you want…I mean…" I bit my lip. Why the fuck am I so tongue-tied? I know him inside out. Literally.

"Sure, Sunshine. Where am I taking you?"

"To Mom's."

He raised an eyebrow. "I think you outgrew her couch long ago."

"I don't have anywhere else to stay, and I refuse to pay for a hotel in my hometown. I would've asked Debbie, but I know she's with Horvath and yeah…"

Brian placed his hands on my shoulders, smirking. "Who else would you have asked?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but was incapable to say anything. He was too close and I could smell his cologne and that unique Brian scent. He was also playing mind games with me, and I wasn't awake enough to take part in that.

"Not me?" He added softly.

"Of course not! For obvious reasons, and then…the loft is not exactly that spacious to house so many of us."

"The loft?" He laughed, throwing his head back.

My eyes went to his Adam's apple.

"Ah, Justin. You're behind on things. Waaaay behind. The loft is gone, long gone."

"It is?" I stared at him, dumbfounded.

He nodded solemnly. "I'm surprised no one has told you."

Yeah, that makes two of us. No one had bothered to tell me Brian had moved out of his loft.

"Where do you live? Did you buy a bigger apartment?"

"I already had a house…new and quite spacious. It cost me a lot of dough so why try selling it for less when I could move in there?"

The world tilted and I felt woozy.

It wasn't possible.

"You live at Britin?" I asked faintly.

He cupped my cheek tenderly as tears spilled from my eyes. "Yes."

I gritted my teeth, pulling away from him. I had to distance myself from this sweet Brian. He was messing with my head and my resolution of being mad at him was breaking. Fast.

"I want to hate you, to punch you, to kick your ass, but I can't. I want to hate you," I repeated, wiping angrily at my tears.

"Justin." He reached for me, but I sidestepped him. "I hate myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm going to Mom's." Not giving him time to stop me, I rushed to the nearest cab and jumped into the backseat. I gave the cabbie the address, before pressing my palms to my face in hopes to not start sobbing like a baby.

oOo

The next day, I headed to the diner as I had promised Emmett the previous evening when he called to beg me to help him with something, and also have a small reunion before the wedding.

After a fitful night's sleep, and not sleeping well in days with my recent traveling to Europe, I was dead on my feet.

When I stepped into the diner, it looked deserted. Then I looked again and found a person at the counter, chatting with Debbie.

Why me?

Seriously?

I haven't done anything wrong in my life.

By the time I decided to make a hasty escape, Debbie noticed me. Shrieking, she rounded the counter and came closer, hugging me tightly.

"Sunshine! It's so good to see you again! God, what are they feeding you there? You're so skinny." She pulled away, narrowing her eyes. "Are you eating and sleeping enough?"

"Yes, mother." I rolled my eyes.

"Don't pull that on me. It never works," she insisted. "Sit down and I'll bring you a healthy breakfast."

"I just need coffee," I protested.

It was always the same. We didn't have awkward moments, but we saw each other quite regularly—that went for everyone…except Brian.

He kept ignoring me, fluffing his newspaper, frowning at whatever he was reading. I sat a few stools away from him, fingering a paper tissue.

We sat there in silence until Debbie slammed the coffee pot between us making both of us jump.

"Christ, woman." Brian grabbed at his heart theatrically.

"Stop this." She waved her hand between us. "Talk. Don't make me lock you up somewhere."

I snorted, but the panicked look on Brian's face told me she meant business. I was sure she'd done it to Michael and Brian as they grew up and probably fought a lot.

Deciding to entertain her, I turned to Brian. "How are you this fine morning, Mr. Kinney?"

He poked his tongue in his cheek. "Fine, Taylor. You?"

"Peachy."

Debbie slammed the pot to the counter again. I feared it would shatter.

"Stop this bullshit, both of you! Yes, he's an idiot." She pointed to Brian. "We all know that, but the idiot never stopped loving you and the only reason he cut you out was to let you live your dream. I told him it was insane. As for you, Sunshine." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Take that stick out of your ass and accept you've made a mistake, too. If you really wanted the long distance relationship to work, you'd have come back and knocked some sense into this asshole. But you didn't. You chose the easy way out."

"Here's ten for the therapy session. I need to run to Kinnetik." Brian pushed a crumpled bill to Debbie before taking off without looking at me.

I swallowed hard, staring at my lap. "He hates me."

"He can never hate you," she said softly.

"Well maybe he didn't yesterday, but today he does. We already bumped into each other at the airport yesterday. He thought we could fall back into…whatever the fuck we had. It doesn't work like that."

"And why the hell not?" She frowned. "You never had a normal relationship. Not in the conventional way."

"Or you can cut it at we never had a relationship."

"Justin, what happened to you, hon? I don't remember you being so bitter? The old you would have forgiven Brian by now and fucked him ten ways to Sunday."

"The old me was a stupid teenager. Debbie, give it a rest, please."

Emmett and Michael stepped in the diner at that moment.

"Mark my words." Debbie shook her finger at me. "You are meant for each other. You love each other and are both too thick-headed to see it."

"Who's thick-headed? Not me, I hope." Michael slid in a stool next to me. "Hi, Justin."

"Hi." I tried to smile but it didn't work.

"Sweetie!" Emmett kissed both my cheeks soundly. "So good to see you!"

"Was it something important what you wanted to discuss?" I asked.

"Everything's under control. I needed an artist's eye for the flower arrangements but Lindsay offered to help."

"Great, because I'm allergic to flowers."

So maybe Debbie was right. Life in New York had roughed me and turned me into a heartless prick. I didn't care. It helped me deal with Brian.

Emmett looked startled. "What kind of flowers? Why didn't I think of your allergies?"

"All of them," I grumbled. Debbie looked upset at me. "If I'm not needed here anymore…I'm going to meet with Daph. I promised to see her."

"You didn't even touch your food."

"I'm not hungry."

"If you keep this up, I swear to God I'm going to throw both of you in a closet, lock it and throw away the key."

"We'll see who kills the other first," I muttered, walking out the door.

I wasn't mentally prepared to have a conversation with Brian about our failed relationship. I should have known it wouldn't end well from the moment I left to New York.

I managed to avoid any more run-ins with Brian until the wedding.

On the big day, I realized too late where Ben was driving us. Michael had told me about the amazing location, but never named it. Driving with Ben in his car on the familiar road, though I'd been there only a handful of times, made my stomach roll.

We were headed to Britin—where was supposed to be our home. That special love nest for when we were married. It never happened.

All my bitterness evaporated the moment I saw a white sign reading Britin in styled handwriting.

Debbie was right. Brian still loved me.

I was an idiot, but so was he.

One thing was clear. I wasn't going to cave without a fight. I wasn't going to fall in bed with him until we cleared the air between us.

oOo

The wedding ceremony was so beautiful, and it reminded me of Linz and Mel's wedding. They didn't have bridesmaids, but Michael and Ben insisted on best men. Because they thought it would be funny, they made Brian and I best men.

As the minister recited and the grooms repeated after him, Brian and I kept our eyes locked. At some point during the cherish and love and sickness part of the vows, he started mouthing the words at the same time as Michael, never breaking eye contact with me.

I need to know now. Can you love me again?

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I must not ruin Michael and Ben's wedding with throwing myself at the other best man and fucking him in front of everyone.

The moment he mouthed "I do," I swayed and fumbled with the ring when Ben turned to get it from me.

I found myself mouthing back "I do," and it was Brian's turn to actually drop the ring and have everyone laugh. Retrieving it, he handed it to Michael with a shrug.

Then they kissed—Michael and Ben.

As everyone took turns at hugging and congratulating the happy couple, I had no idea who moved first but we met somewhere in the middle. We'd only once kissed with so much passion and fervor and hate and love. I tried not to think of that moment—when he smelt Ethan on me and cut my heart spitting at me about stinking.

It was different now, and I was aware we were making sounds and we were crying, but fuck if I cared.

I could hear our friends cheering loudly, no doubt Michael and Ben were sharing another legally married kiss.

After what felt like ages, we separated, leaving a trail of spit between us which made Brian lean to kiss me again, biting my bottom lip. I kept my arms around his neck, exploring his mouth. His hands went to my ass and when he squeezed, I bucked into him, moaning loudly.

He grunted, pressing his erection into my stomach, rubbing against me, never breaking the kiss.

"Do you think they're going to fuck on the make-shift altar?"

"It will be a holy reunion."

"Still we should let them know everyone is watching. There are kids here."

I never thought Michael and Ben could be kinky, but apparently everyone was talking about them as if they were about to fuck.

I couldn't focus on what they were saying for too long, my brain was full of Brian.

"Get a room!" I heard Michael's slightly amused voice. "And by the way, thanks a lot for stealing my moment. Your kiss got everyone's attention."

Brian separated from me, looking dazed around. "Oh, shit," he whispered. Then he smiled brightly. "We were celebrating the marriage of my best friend."

"As long as you don't ruin our honeymoon too… have at it," Ben added, laughing.

I wasn't sure if I'd ever been this mortified in my life.

All the voices I heard earlier were talking about us.

Fuck. What have I done?

I'd thrown myself at Brian. Like a whore in heat.

"I need to be a good host," Brian said in my ear. "Catch you up later." After kissing my cheek, he disappeared in the scattering crowd of friends, with Emmett. He seemed in his element, barking orders to the catering team.

"Well, if that was only one kiss, I really don't want to know the fireworks you can create in bed." Michael smirked.

"God. I'm so sorry, Mikey. I have no idea what happened."

"Oh, I do. That was years of pent-up frustration released. But do me a favor and talk before anything else. I'd hate to see either of you hurt more than you already are."

"I had a plan about talking to Brian, but then…that happened."

As the evening wore on, the reception held in the backyard was in full swing when Brian dropped by my table. I was currently alone, nursing my fifth cocktail. Emmett kept appearing with a new one when he saw my glass emptying. I had a feeling he wanted me drunk.

Brian didn't look more sober than I felt. He'd lost his jacket and his bow tie was loose around his neck, three buttons of his shirt were opened and I could see his smooth chest underneath. He was holding a bottle of Jim Beam as he plopped in the chair next to me, stretching his legs under my chair.

"Emmett can throw a party, huh?"

I nodded, sipping from my Bloody Mary.

I couldn't look him in the eye, because the kiss kept flashing before me. I already missed his lips.

"Can you…" He shook his head, never finishing whatever he wanted to say.

"What?"

He took a swig from the bottle. "I'm sorry, Sunshine. I fucked-up."

"Yeah, me too."

"I didn't mean the kiss."

I laughed nervously. "I know."

"Good. I don't regret the kiss."

"Me neither."

"I want to do it again."

"Me too."

"And then I want to rip that suit off you and fuck you until you forget your name."

My mouth went dry. "Me too," I breathed.

"I want to fuck you right now."

"Me too."

He suddenly started laughing. "You sound like a broken record."

"I'm sorry, I can't think straight when you speak of fucking me."

"But we still need to talk," he added, taking another swig.

"We do."

A crooked smile appeared on his face. "I do." The smile turned into a full blown grin as he said the words.

"I do." I grinned back like an idiot.

It would be so easy to forget the past nine years.

Brian stood abruptly, grabbing my elbow, dragging me away.

"No. No. No." I dug my heels in the ground.

"I want to dance. On the dance floor," he explained. "Later… between the sheets."

"You can't say that."

"I always keep my promises."

A song I heard quite frequently at the clubs in New York started as we stepped on the makeshift dance floor.

Moving in rhythm with him reminded me of Babylon and all the nights we danced until we were sweaty, then went home for another kind of dancing.

That you and I could learn to love again
After all this time
Maybe that is how I knew you were the one
That you could still believe in me again
After all our trials
Maybe that is how I knew you were the one

Brian met my eyes as the chorus started playing. I smiled, agreeing with the lyrics.

His forehead came to rest on mine. "I still believe in you, in us. Do you, Justin?"

"Don't do this, Brian. You have no idea how much I want it. But think about it…"

"I'd rather not think." He caught my lips in a searing kiss.

"Think." I pushed him away a little, begging him with my eyes. "I'm going back to New York in two days. I can't do it all over again. My heart can't take it, Brian."

"Then don't go," he said nonchalantly. "Stay."

"My life—"

"You already made a name of yourself, Sunshine. You can paint from anywhere. Britin is cold and empty without you."

My stomach fluttered at his words. "Brian…"

Silence says we remember (Oooh)
We remember
Two lost souls in the shadow(Oooh)
In the shadows
That is how I knew you were the one
And that is how I knew you were the one

"I love you," he whispered into my ear. It made me shiver as memories of the bombing night assaulted me. "I love you, Justin. Come back."

My knees buckled and he caught me, hugging me tightly. "Okay."

"Okay? I have a strong sense of dejà-vu here. We were in the living room and I was pouring my heart out to you about marriage and love and commitment."

I chuckled, hugging him back. "Okay, I'll come back. But I need to go to New York to finish my business there."

"I'll come with you. I'll be damned if you're leaving my sight again."

"Now, you're scaring me. You're going borderline crazy." I pecked his lips. "And don't say something cheesy and out of character like crazy for you. For my sanity's sake."

He laughed loudly, twirling me around before crushing me to his chest. "How did you guess?"

I rolled my eyes, placing my head against his shoulder. I decided to enjoy these moments, unsure what would actually happen after we talked. Our conversation could go both ways—fantastic, resulting in me moving back, or terribly wrong resulting in me going back to New York with my tail between my legs and my heart broken.

After many slow dances where we didn't break the embrace, Michael appeared at our side.

"Mind if I cut in?" He looked skeptical, probably thinking we were glued to each other.

"Oh, is it time for the customary dance with the bride?" Brian inquired. "Later, Sunshine. I need to do my Best Man duties."

Michael glowered at being addressed as the bride, but didn't say anything.

I left them dancing as I retreated to my seat and a fresh cocktail. I only managed a sip before someone hoisted me up.

Debbie raised an eyebrow. "Dance with me, honey."

I wanted to refuse her, but I'd get hell, so after another few gulps from my cocktail for courage, I led her to the dance floor.

"This could be you if you decided to use the head on your shoulders for once." She tapped my temple, narrowing her eyes.

I couldn't help but snort. "Debbie, please. We both know it will never happen. The last time Brian asked me to marry him was a glitch in his system. He's back to normal now, thank goodness."

"It was always him, Justin. He never changed. The only thing he did was be more open about the way he felt about you, Gus, everyone around him." She stroked my cheek. "You know he's guarded his heart for years, not allowing anyone too close. Then you weaseled your way in his heart and turned his life upside down."

"Oh, that explains why he always treated me like shit."

"And you never backed down. You always fought back and in the end, you were both happy."

"After we hit a few bumps."

"Sunshine, there are always bumps in a relationship. Some bigger than others, but when two people love each other, they sit down and talk about their problems."

"In case you haven't noticed, Brian is not much of a talker…unless it's about winning over a client."

A familiar laughter got my attention as the song changed. I recognized it from Babylon, but had no idea why Brian and Michael were singing loudly, creating a small circle around them as people stopped to stare at them.

"It's their song," Debbie said, smiling as she watched them too.

Their song? They have a song?

It made me kind of sad knowing we didn't have a song, and we'd been together for years.

I listened closely to the lyrics to figure out what was so special about their song.

What have you done today to make you feel proud?
It's never too late to try
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
You could be so many people
If you make that break for freedom
What have you done today to make you feel proud?

It was probably their way of laughing over Brian's tricks in the past. He used to be proud of every new one. Still was, most likely.

"I'm going back to my drink," I told Debbie.

"Oh, don't you dare be a jealous queen!" She held my elbow tightly. "You know better than anyone they're friends in an odd sort of way, but still just friends. Though, your feelings show you still love him."

"I never denied it," I mumbled, wrenching my arm from her grasp. "Please, Debbie. I will talk to Brian. Once everyone leaves."

"Good." She beamed at me, hugging me tightly. "You'll be fine."

Some hours later, after the cake was served, I was at my table with Brian, sharing a bottle of Champagne. As the contents kept emptying in our stomachs, or mostly on our shirts since we were both too wasted to find our mouths, I sincerely doubted we were going to have that talk any time soon.

Taking the bottle from me, he made a wide gesture with his hand toward the house, sloshing some of the liquid on the grass. "Did you go in yet?"

"Only to the kitchen and downstairs bathroom. Why?" I tried not to acknowledge the fact that the house in front of me was as much his as it was mine.

"You should see what I did with the living room. Oh, there was that large room on the top floor—I turned it into an entertainment center."

"You watch your black and white movies projected on a wall now?" I couldn't help but snort out.

"Why didn't I think of that? No. Actually, I do have a big plasma TV and a great audio system. But that's part of the room."

"What else did you do?" I stole the bottle from him, taking a swig.

"I brought Woody's in our house."

Our house—it was all I heard. Whatever he babbled next about pool, darts and who the fuck cares was lost to my ears.

He'd always considered Britin our house, even though I was gone.

I kicked his leg, making him jerk and nearly fall off the chair. Before he could snap at me, because I could tell he was about to lash out for bruising him, I leaned closer, placing my hands on his knees.

"Why did you stop talking to me?"

Brian raised an eyebrow as if asking, Are we going to have that conversation now?

"Answer me," I insisted.

"It was less painful. You were supposed to forget about me."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't forgotten about you. I couldn't forget about the world's biggest—"

"Dick you ever had?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "—biggest asshole!"

He sobered minutely, before smirking. "Is it because I was your first? People always get attached—"

"Will you quit being an asshole? I know you were hurt too. You tried to cope with the situation in your own special way, but not showing up for Christmas at Debbie's that year was harsh. It gutted me."

"Mexico was wrong. I hated every minute I spent there."

"God, Brian." I fell back on my chair, closing my eyes. "I hoped we'd make it work. When I walked out the door that morning, I knew I was coming back. In the plane to New York, I planned to spend a maximum of two years in the big bad city, but then some asshole pushed me out of his life and I had no sound reason to return. I poured all my time in painting and becoming a fucking success, though it didn't bring that happiness you used to talk about."

"You traveled the world, and I read somewhere about people calling your 'the new Warhol' and it reminded me of a time when I told you something similar."

"Yeah, so? I never wanted money and fame. I only wanted you and to be happy and...loved. When the miracle happened...we managed to kick it away, because it was unfamiliar."

"Correction, Sunshine. You kicked it away, because you thought I was acting weird."

"You were," I insisted. "It freaked me out, Brian. You wanted to stay in and cuddle instead of going out and maybe not fuck everything with a dick, but having drinks and getting high. Really. Think about it from my place. I was used to that Brian, but then the aliens abducted him and replaced him with a mellow version who was so fucking domestic it gave me the creeps."

"If you want this to work." He gestured between us, looking serious. "You need to tell me what you want."

"I want you to be you, not someone you think I'd like to be with. I want the same Brian I fell in love with. Sure, I won't say no if once in a while we'd stay home and cuddle." I winked.

"You're serious about coming home?" He asked softly, leaning closer and taking my hands.

I opened my mouth to answer, but a commotion from the partying crowd distracted us. We turned to see Michael's surprised, yet amused look, only to understand why a second later when his bouquet landed on Brian's head.

"I swear it wasn't my intention!" Michael rushed to us. "My aim is shit."

Brian looked freaked, shoving the white roses away as if they were infected. "Sure, you didn't mean it."

I picked the bouquet, fighting off a smile when Brian stared at me as if I'd grown another head. "Come on. It's customary for the couple who caught the bouquet to dance."

"I didn't catch anything. It was thrown at my head."

"Same principles apply."

Abandoning the almost empty bottle of Champagne, I took Brian's hand and led him to the dance floor, bouquet in my other hand.

"When I'm sober again, I'll come up with the worst revenge ever for doing this to me," he muttered, positioning his body in front of mine, ready to dance.

"Promises, promises." I looped my arms behind his neck, loving the way he smelled.

The song changed and instead of starting to dance, Brian froze. Then he fled, leaving me standing there embarrassed and abandoned.

What the fuck is his problem?

Over everyone's loud murmurs, I heard the song. Save the Last Dance for Me.

"Is Dad okay?" Gus appeared at my side.

I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but I was sure my lips turned into a grimace. "I'll go check." On the way to the house, I stopped next to Michael who looked ready to run after Brian. Catching his elbow, I narrowed my eyes at him. "Do me a favor and kick that fucking DJ out. And... can you wrap up the party or have Debbie do it? I'm not sure how Brian is."

Michael only nodded, pushing me toward the back door.

I had no idea where I'd find Brian and the state he'd be in. After exploring most of the huge house, I stopped at what I thought to be his bedroom door.

For a moment, I stopped, wondering if I should knock, but then again this was my house too, my room too. So I opened the door, looking inside worried.

He wasn't in bed crying as I stupidly thought he'd be. Brian was standing at the window, shoulder leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around himself.

Closing the door, I advanced to him. He tensed up when I placed my hand on the small of his back.

What could I tell him? I couldn't even begin to understand what he felt.

I wanted to tell him it was just a song, but I knew it was more than that.

"We can make new memories on that song. Memories I'll remember," I suggested softly, keeping my hand on his back.

Brian turned around, hugging me tightly burrowing his face into my neck. It broke me when I heard him sniffing, and I felt so incapacitated.

To think that last week the idea of being back in his arms was something abstract, and at the moment I couldn't imagine myself elsewhere.

We'd both been idiots. My place was beside him, and his beside me. We belonged together.

I steered him to the bed, where the softness of the mattress made me laugh. Of course Brian would invest in top quality mattress and bedding. The duvet appeared to be satin.

"I'm surprised you opted for massive wood and stiff decorum with a vintage air instead of modern glass and chrome like you had at the loft." I had to distract him somehow, and what I'd seen in my quest for his hiding place had shown me a different Brian from the one I knew.

"Three words," he said with a small smile. "Massive, stiff wood."

I slapped him upside the head, laughing. "Glad to see you're feeling all better."

"Sunshine, only you'd talk about the decorum at a time like this."

"I appreciate the fine things in life." I cupped his cheek.

"Me too." Brian smirked. "Good booze, a tight ass, and annoying twats."

"Booze before me? I'm hurt." I pouted.

He sighed, resting his head on my shoulder, taking my hand. "I know what you're doing. It's not really working. I hate that song and the memories it brings."

I swallowed nervously, about to say something I haven't told anyone. "I get the chills every time I hear Cyndi Lauper, especially the song she was singing when the bomb went off, but that doesn't mean I can't overcome it. We need to keep living, and not let some bad memories ruin our lives."

Brian stared at me with huge hazel eyes. "I had no idea."

"I haven't told anyone," I admitted. "You'd have all freaked out. Besides, it was enough the way Emmett acted back then. You helped me, you know. Being there...distracting me."

"I'm sure proposing to you was a great distraction." Brian laughed, pecking my cheek.

"My freaking out over the bombing turned into freaking out for your sanity." I grinned, kissing him softly. "I want to say that I regret leaving."

"No need to lie."

"It's not a lie," I hissed. "I'm not happy at all."

"But you're a hit, exactly what I wanted for you."

"Exactly what you and everyone wanted, not me. I only wanted to be with you, even though you'd gone crazy for a while."

Brian tilted my head, staring at me with a determined look in his eyes. "You think we can do it? Start over?"

I shook my head wildly. "No way! Start over? What, you want to pick me from under the lamp post?" I joked.

"Twat. You know what I mean."

"Well, I'd like to continue from where we'd left off. We were so happy…" I closed my eyes, remembering my last few weeks with Brian. They were the best days of my life. I had no idea we could be that happy, and him admitting his feeling made everything better on every account.

A glint appeared in his eyes and I feared what he was going to do next. Seizing my hand, he pulled me up. "Quick then, while the minister's still here."

I pushed against his shoulder playfully, despite the fact that my stomach churned with nerves. He still wanted to get married, which amazed me. I could tell it was more than mere teasing.

"I told Michael to send everyone home. It's late."

"Let's say goodbye to our guests, then. We need to talk."

"Uh, I think that talk can wait. You need to sleep. I think you drank your weight in alcohol."

Brian's lips curled inward. "Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse? Are you accusing me of being fat?"

In an uncalculated gesture, I pressed my hand to his stomach through the gap at his shirt's buttons. It was as tight and defined as ever. "Not an ounce of fat."

"I should hope so since I spend more time at the gym. Anyway, our guests await."

When we arrived outside, I was surprised to see the backyard looking deserted. Debbie and Emmett were collecting empty bottles and putting them in a large black trash bag.

"Where's everyone?" Brian frowned, dropping my hand as he went to a table and snatched a half full bottle of whiskey.

"The party broke. Besides, Michael and Ben had a plane to catch," Emmett explained.

"I think you had enough." Debbie extracted the bottle from his hand and dumped it in the trash.

Brian stared after it in horror. "That was a bottle of very expensive…"

"Hold it." She waved a hand around, before pulling him closer to her, sniffing. "I think you're imbibed in alcohol, Brian."

I couldn't help but laugh. It was true. He smelled of alcohol, but so did I.

"And don't get me started on you." Debbie rounded on me. I raised my hands in the air, smiling innocently. "Since when do you drink so much?"

I was about to answer that my social events taught me how to drink, but Brian stepped in. "What do you mean they left? I didn't say goodbye to Mikey."

"You've been in the house for too long, and as I said, they had a plane to catch."

"We haven't been in there for that long," I mumbled. Time always lost its meaning when I was with Brian.

"Well, don't stand around. Help us clean up. The bad monster who lives here likes things neat," Emmett threw an empty trash bag at me.

"You hear that, Sunshine? You're the bad monster."

I narrowed my eyes at Brian, grabbing an empty can of soda from the nearest table and hurling it at him. He ducked, and the can hit Debbie in the back.

"Sorry!" I called to her.

"Now, what has Debbie ever done to you—"

He didn't get to finish his teasing, because I was over the table, tackling him to the ground. I vaguely heard Emmett hinting at him and Debbie leaving us alone, but Debbie didn't seem to care we were probably moments away from ripping each other's clothes off.

Holding Brian to the slightly wet grass, reminded me of a time we wrestled naked in the loft. He was probably thinking of the same thing, because next thing I knew I had a mouthful of dirt in my mouth as he twisted me around.

"Boys!" Debbie shouted.

I pushed Brian off me, keeping his hands prisoners above his head. He smirked at me, raising his head, and maybe it was the alcohol in my veins or the tiredness catching up with me, but I gave in. I leaned closer, meeting his lips. He groaned loudly, his hands sneaking inside my pants and grabbing my ass.

"Brian! Justin! For fuck's sake!" Debbie snapped. "You have time for that later. I'm happy as the next member of the family that you two made up, but help us here. The sooner we finish cleaning, the sooner you'll be alone."

Brian grunted, pulling away to scowl at her. "Alone, my ass. Shit. Where are Lindsay and Gus?"

"With Mel and JR at Michael and Ben's. They graciously offered their house while they're off so you two can…well…do whatever the fuck you want. We didn't know if you were going to kill each other or fuck each other, so it's better—no witnesses."

"We're alone?" He asked in awe, before turning to smirk at me. "Did you hear that?!"

"I hear alright, old man. I still got 20/20. You?" I should have probably asked that when I was far away from him, not on top of him, giving him advantage to tickle me until I couldn't breathe.

"Come on, Debbie. Let's go," I heard Emmett say sternly. "They'll clean this up later."

Debbie started protesting, but Brian stopped his torment long enough to turn to them and wave, smiling sweetly.

"It's polite to walk them out," I insisted, standing and brushing my ruined clothes.

"Oh, that's just your excuse to escape more tickling."

At Emmett's car, Debbie faced both Brian and me, hands on her hips. "If you two decide to act like dickheads ever again…" A sob choked her before she caught both us in a hug, knocking our heads together in the process.

"Oww, Deb!" Brian protested.

"You deserved that for treating Sunshine like shit. And you deserved it for being a stubborn nut!"

"I think you got us mixed-up," I joked.

Brian surprised me by swinging me over his shoulder making me grab at his shirt as all the blood rushed to my head. "Sunshine needs a spanking! Good bye you two! And if you talk to Mikey and Ben tell them we wish them a wonderful honeymoon!"

Inside the house, he still didn't put me down. I thumped at his back. "Brian, you oaf!"

God, I missed playful Brian, but this wasn't the time to be playful. I wanted to talk before we did anything else.

"I want to show you something."

"I know how your dick looks like. It won't make me run to the hills."

"Stop being a twat. It's a special moment."

"For you every blow job is special, but I'd like to talk more before we get to that." I sighed, combing a hand through his hair. "Please, Brian."

"Don't worry. We'll talk, but I'm hoping no words will be needed after you see this."

He stopped on the second floor in front of a closed door. Placing me back on my feet, he kept a hand on my shoulder. I was grateful for that, because I was woozy.

Gauging my expression, he opened the door. The first thing I noticed was the dim light, then the temperature and humidity. Confused, I stepped in and what I saw made my knees buckle.

Most of my paintings, especially the ones representing Brian in a form or other were hanging on the walls.

I had no idea if I should be upset at him for buying them, or humbled at the gesture. A particular painting, I knew it sold with over a thousand dollars was on the narrow wall, in the middle of it.

Why? Why? Why?

"Don't cry," he said softly, gathering me in his arms.

"I love you too," I choked out, turning in his arms and kissing him deeply. "From now on, you're banned from spending a dime on my paintings!"

"What?" He looked taken aback. "But look at the empty spots."

"Brian, I'm serious. I can't even begin to grasp what you've done."

"When I missed you so much I couldn't breathe, I'd come here and stare at your art. It brought me closer to you. In those paintings…" He gestured to the ones on the narrow wall. "…that's me, right? That figure."

"How did you guess?" I stared at him amazed, as if I was seeing him for the first time. And maybe I was. I was seeing Brian in a whole new light. He loved me to the moon and back.

"You missed me. I could see it in your paintings."

"Then WHY? Why didn't you say something? Do something? Damn it, Brian!"

"I was an idiot, Justin. I kept hoping you'd let go of me, and live your life."

"How could I let go of the best thing that ever happened to me? And please, don't give me a smart ass comment."

Brian put his palms on either side of my neck, pressing his forehead to mine. "I was hoping I'd be the only one hurt. I know how to cope with pain…of any kind. I didn't want you to suffer too. I thought a clean break would make you so angry at me that you'd forget about me."

"I know how to deal with pain too, in case you forgot. And nothing you'll ever do can make me forget you, Brian. I love you too much to forget you. I thought of you constantly. None of my relationships worked because I lived in the past and hung on how well we worked. We never stepped on each other's toes."

He chuckled, nudging my nose with his. "I clearly remember this particular moment when you tackled me to the sofa, stepping on my big toe with your sneakers."

"You know what I mean!" I groaned, but couldn't help laugh along.

Brian pulled me out of the room, toward the bedroom.

"Do you really think…we can…do this? Really do it?" I stared at him hopefully as he toed his shoes off.

"Justin, I'm not that old. I can still get it up."

I frowned, realizing he was thinking of sex, obviously. Nothing new there. "I meant this!" I gestured between us. "Our relationship."

"Oh, only one way to find out."

He stopped at the foot of the bed, facing me. His hands started loosening my tie as his eyes stayed on mine.

"Let's get you out of these dirty clothes."

He took his time unbuttoning my shirt, before slowly peeling it off my shoulders. His fingers deftly worked my button and zipper resulting in my pants pooling at my ankles. I carefully stepped out of them, bracing on his bicep.

When Brian moved to unbuttoning his own shirt, I pushed his hands away, taking over. He smiled, allowing me to undress him. He kept one hand on the back of my neck, playing with the hair he found there, while his other hand slipped inside my underwear, rubbing my dick.

A shiver ran down my spine, making me moan at all the glorious things he made me feel once again. I'd forgotten how wonderful it could be having someone I loved touching me.

Brian stopped momentarily, watching me curiously.

"Don't stop," I begged, bucking into his hand.

He pushed me down on the bed, finishing undressing in record time. Then he was on top of me, straddling my hips, his fingers in my hair, his mouth crashed over mine, his erection digging into mine.

I arched my back, groaning loudly.

His lips moved to my throat, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses. "You have no idea how much I missed you," he admitted between kisses.

"As much as I missed you." I raised my ass, helping him take my boxers off. I shook my leg until the last piece of clothing flew across the room.

"Still messy."

I laughed, bringing his head closer to kiss him. He had always made me want to rip my clothes off to be able to feel him skin on skin faster.

Brian sat up, smirking. He linked his right hand with my left, before pumping my dick with his left.

Fuck.

Every touch intensified with him.

The coiling it my stomach tightened, and I moaned, arching my neck, pushing my head into the mattress. He moved his hand slowly as if teasing me. It reminded me of our first time, and fuck if this wasn't similar.

"I can't!" I gasped, gripping his wrist.

He shook his hand free, lifting both my arms above my head, catching them with his right hand, before going back to jerking me off.

"Fuck, Brian!"

"Don't come yet. I have plans for you."

Heat pooled in the pit of my stomach. It slowly started spreading through my body as he picked up pace. My toes curled as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep my body in control. All my attempts at not coming were in vain when Brian ran his thumb over my tip.

"Shit," he cursed as I painted his chest in cum.

I exploded in laughter, unable to keep comparing our reunion to our first night together. The similarities were achingly familiar.

Brian stared at me as if I lost my mind, but I couldn't stop laughing. I tried explaining why the sudden euphoria, but all I managed was to flail my hands about and laugh some more, jumbled words leaving my mouth.

He fell next to me, giving me his trademark tongue in cheek expression. "I can't even say I fucked you silly, because I didn't get that far. Care to enlighten me what's so fucking funny, Sunshine?"

"This!" I waved a hand between us.

"We're funny?"

"What does this remind you of? What just happened." I raised an eyebrow at him, rolling on my side.

He frowned, but I knew when he figured it out. His eyes showed it.

"You're still a twat."

I put my head on his shoulder, throwing my arm across his chest. "Your twat."

"Mine." I felt his lips on the side of my head.