"Ready for our walk?" Brian asked, stepping into the loft.

He was greeted by silence. For a wild minute, he thought Justin had left without him, but that was highly improbable.

"Justin?" He called loudly, leaving his briefcase on the counter and going in search of his twink. "There you are!" Brian noticed Justin under the blankets in bed. "Taking a nap?"

"I was hiding, hoping the demon wouldn't find me," Justin muttered, clutching the blanket over his head when Brian tugged at it.

"Hey! It's too warm to stay under three blankets. Come out of there."

"No."

"Look, I'll leave without you if you don't stop this. You'll be alone for the rest of the evening and deep into the night. You don't want that."

"For real?" Justin poked his head out of the blanket. "Are you gone yet?"

"What about our stroll into the sunset?" Brian sighed dramatically, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I don't like walking down the street with you anymore."

"Would you like to walk with Emmett better?" Brian was confused. He thought Justin was getting better, and being told so bluntly his twat didn't want to be with him, hurt.

"I don't want to walk with anyone anywhere! I want to be left alone! So go out and fuck your way through Pittsburgh's gay community and leave me the fuck alone!" Justin flung the blankets away, stomping down the stairs.

"What's up, Sunshine?" Brian went after him. Jennifer had told him of Justin's tantrums, but he never expected to be confronted with one.

Justin slammed the cupboard's door shut. "Do you have to follow me everywhere?"

"I want to know what the fuck happened in between this morning and now. You were in a bright mood when I left, and now…"

"Waking up with a blowjob puts people in a bright mood usually," he bit back.

"Do you want another one? If it sends this Moody Justin away, sure. Drop your pants." Brian advanced to him, undoing Justin's string only to have his hand slapped.

Justin pulled the juice out of the refrigerator, uncapping it slowly. "I don't want a blowjob. And I don't want to take a walk. I don't want anything! FUCK! Shit. Fuck." His hand spasmed, juice spilling everywhere. In his rage, Justin grabbed the glass, throwing it at the wall with all his might. "Fuck!"

Brian wrapped his arms around Justin, holding him tightly against his chest until the boy relaxed. Before he could sigh in relief, Brian heard the sniffling.

"I'm a fucking failure," Justin sobbed into his chest.

"The fuck you are!" Brian lifted Justin's head, glaring at him. "Don't talk trash about my boyfriend."

Justin's jaw unhinged. "What," he whispered.

"You heard me."

"Really?" He eyed Brian hopefully, wiping his tears.

"You know I fucking hate labels."

"But you do love labels…fashion labels…like Armani and Gucci." Justin teased, kissing a spot on Brian's jaw.

"Twat." Brian stole a kiss, before steering Justin to the bedroom. "Get dressed. We're going out. I don't want to hear any more complaints."

Justin grinned, feeling tons better after Brian's confession.

Half an hour later, they left. The second they were out of the building, Justin burrowed into Brian's side, clutching at his shirt with both hands—one in the back and one in the front.

"Relax. No one is going to hurt you," Brian whispered, wrapping an arm around Justin's shoulders.

"You can't know that."

"Do you think these people don't have better things to do than to hurt you? Come on, Justin. Show me what a big boy you are—walk down the street without resembling a baby monkey clutching to their mother."

"I can't."

"Of course, you can."

"No, I can't. My fingers are clenched on your shirt. DON'T!" He yelled when Brian made an attempt to pry his hands from his shirt.

"Christ! Stop screaming, or they'll have me arrested and then you'll be on your own."

"No! Don't leave me." Justin pressed even closer to Brian, shaking.

"This is getting ridiculous, Sunshine," Brian mumbled as they turned a corner bringing them on Liberty Avenue. "Let's try something new today."

"Not walking on my own."

"I never said that. Do you trust me?"

Justin nodded jerkily, tightening his grip on Brian's shirt when a bear walked too close to him. "Fuck."

"Let go, then take my hand," Brian said gently.

Faster than he thought possible, Justin unclenched his hand from the back of Brian's shirt and gripped his hand with all his might. His other hand clutched at Brian's bicep, his nails digging into the man's skin. Brian didn't complain, to Justin's amazement.

They walked for a few minutes, and as Justin was starting to relax, and actually look around and hear the sounds of traffic, without being terrified of every single shadow and louder sound, a group of people stepped out of a store to his left, directly in his path.

"Brian. Brian. Brian." He whimpered, turning into Brian's waiting arms, pressing his face into his shoulder. "Make them go away. Can't breathe."

"I'm here. Focus on my voice."

Justin froze when someone bumped into his back, then he started panting into Brian's shirt, taking gulps of Brian's cologne, which usually calmed him. It didn't do much good at the moment. He started feeling woozy, and when he realized they were still swamped in the masses, Justin ripped away from Brian's arms, pushing everyone out of his way as he ran down the street. He didn't stop until he reached the diner. Not brave enough to head inside, he collapsed on the bench outside, shaking and rocking back and forth.

"Jesus Christ!" Brian reached him, crouching in front of him and taking his hands in his. "Everything is okay. I'm here. What the fuck happened?"

"Too many people. Too many. Can't breathe! They were touching me!"

"Justin, it happens. You'll have to get used to this. People don't pay attention where they walk."

"I'm going to wear a sign that reads STAY THE FUCK AWAY in big, bold letters."

Brian smiled despite himself. He reached out a tentative hand, as if afraid to touch Justin. When he wasn't pushed away, he cupped Justin's cheek, rubbing it. "Do you think we could go inside the diner?"

Justin chewed on his lip. He was ready to answer, when Brian lost balance after someone stumbled over him, not noticing him crouched. The guy even extended his hand to help Brian up, apologizing to him, obviously recognizing him.

"You asshole! Watch where you're going!" Justin was up in a flash, punching the guy.

Brian threw the guy an apologetic look, before taking Justin in his arms once again. "He didn't mean it. Come on, Sunshine. Relax."

Emmett was about to enter the diner when he noticed Brian and Justin hugging near the bench. "Hey, guys! PDA much?"

Brian narrowed his eyes at him, but wasn't quick enough to battle the hand reaching to touch Justin's shoulder.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" Justin jerked away from the intruder, burrowing further into Brian.

"It's me, baby. What happened?" Emmett asked, concerned.

Justin peeked out from his hiding spot. "Oh, hey, Em!" He didn't move from Brian's arms, his fists clutching at his shirt harder than before.

Brian patted Justin's head affectionately. "I'm reintroducing Sunshine to social life. He's not very sociable today."

"I hate people," Justin mumbled into his shoulder.

"Of course, you do." Brian kissed his forehead. "We're going inside. We'll stay in the back. Okay? I won't leave your side, I promise."

"Okay."

"You have to let go so I can walk."

Justin only moved to Brian's side, still burrowed under his arm, pressed tightly against Brian's chest. He saw the looks exchanged between Brian and Emmett, and hated it. They were pitying him, but he had enough for one day.

Justin wondered how long it was since they'd left the loft. Half an hour? He'd already made a fool of himself, several times, and the trip wasn't over. They had to get back at some point.

Debbie was beside herself when she saw Justin out and about, even though he appeared to be an extension to Brian's body, at the way he was clinging to Brian.

When she approached their booth, she smiled broadly. "A little ray of Sunshine, exactly what I needed after my busy shift."

"We're working on that. He's stuck at the thunderstorm at the moment," Brian joked.

Justin pressed against the wall, staring at a spot on the table.

During their dinner, Justin barely looked up from his plate, avoiding any kind of contact with anyone, except Brian. He gave everyone non-verbal or one-worded answers to how he was doing.

After paying for their food, Justin thought they'd leave, but Brian didn't seem eager to depart. Until some guy passed their table and jerked his head in the toilet's direction.

When Brian got up, ready to follow the man, Justin seized his arm, clinging to him.

"Can we go home?"

Brian looked over his potential trick, then at Justin's distressed face. "Won't you like to stay more with our friends?"

"Not alone."

Sighing loudly and ignoring the curious looks he got, Brian stood up, taking Justin's hand. "We're going."

Justin squeezed his hand tightly, waving merrily to their friends and Debbie as he followed Brian out of the diner.

In the busy street, he burrowed closer to Brian's side, whimpering.

By the time they reached the loft, Justin was drained of all his energy. He declined Brian's offer to shower and simply burrowed under the blankets, trying to shut his mind enough to fall asleep.

"It's still early. Don't tell me you're going to sleep!" Brian scoffed, returning from his shower.

Justin ignored him, so Brian took the hint and went to his computer. He still had some work left unfinished, but he'd been worried about Justin so he'd left from his office earlier. Now knowing him there, mere feet away, alive and breathing, Brian could concentrate on his job.

A few hours later Justin gave up pretense and shuffled into the kitchen. After pouring himself a glass of milk, he went to Brian's side, who was frowning in concentration at the computer screen.

Justin draped his arms around Brian's neck. "Hi."

"Hey. Have a good nap?" Brian touched Justin's elbow, not tearing his eyes off the screen.

"I didn't sleep. I'm bored."

Brian patted his lap with an inviting smile. Justin sat there, resting his head on Brian's shoulder.

"What are you working on?"

"It's an old account. We want to reinvent them and create something modern, hip. So far I'm cringing at my own ideas."

"Don't worry. It will come to you." Justin picked Brian cheek.

Brian expected Justin to offer his help, his artistic expertise, like in the past, but nothing happened. He closed his computer, hugging his boy tightly.

"You said you're bored. Let's play something."

Justin eyed him skeptically. "Like what? Scrabble? Cards?"

Brian smirked, taking Justin's right hand and twisting and turning until he had their thumbs pressed together. "Thumb wrestle. Who wins can suck the other off."

"I don't like your stupid game." Though, he didn't pull his hand away. Justin loved the feeling of Brian's manly, slightly callous hand wrapped around his, his fingers holding him tightly.

Brian pressed his thumb to Justin's to test him, and with a small smile, Justin pressed back.

"See? It's fun."

The game intensified when Justin realized Brian was pushing harder. Justin was salivating at the thought of tasting Brian.

He was moments away from winning when it happened. His hand spasmed, the tendon in his palm tightening, and pain flaring from the center of his palm.

"Fuck," Justin spat, wrenching his hand from Brian's and cradling it to his chest.

With gentle touches, Brian pulled Justin's gimp hand to him, rubbing his thumb to the middle of his palm, then stroking each finger, ending his massage with a soft kiss to Justin's inner wrist. "You'll be fine."

For once, Justin forgot about being mad at Hobbs and at the world in general. Brian loved him.