Beta by Jilla-  All medical mistakes are mine.  Banner by Marny1.  In my universe, Mel and Linds did not go to Canada.  Written for the H/C challenge on QAF challenges

"Hello boys. Having a good evening?" Brian asked as he wrapped his arm around Michael's neck and nodded to Ted and Emmett.

"You're tweaked, Brian. What have you taken?" Michael asked as he looked into Brian's bloodshot eyes.

"A little E, some special K and a few drinks," Brian slightly slurred his words as his body swayed to the music. "Bartender, I need another drink. Give me a shot of Beam," Brian turned to the bartender, setting his glass on the bar as he pushed it to the man.

The bartender filled Brian's glass and he drank it down in one swallow.

"Another," Brian demanded.

The bartender filled Brian's glass a second time and Brian drank it quickly.

"I see someone I must do," Brian said as he eyed a muscular brunette on the dance floor. He turned and sauntered onto the floor, stopping in front of the tall brunette. His body danced to the music as he ran his hands up and down the man's torso and whispered in his ear. "Wanna go to the back room?"

The brunette nodded yes, and the two men walked to the back room. The trick unbuttoned his fly, pulling Brian's cock out. Going down in one motion, the trick swallowed his cock, almost down to the root. Brian closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of warm, moist, suction on his most sensitive body part. The trick fondled his balls and Brian threaded his fingers through his hair, encouraging him in his task. There was no need to hold back his release, and he quickly came into the trick's mouth. Brian turned the trick around, pulling his pants down in one swift motion. Donning a condom, he pushed into the trick with no preparation. The trick groaned at the assault, but Brian was oblivious. Grabbing the trick's cock, he pumped it as he thrust into the tight hole. The dual stimulation brought the man to completion quickly and Brian filled his condom shortly after. He was in and out in less than ten minutes.

He returned to the bar for another drink and rejoined his friends.

"That was fast. Was he that bad?" Emmett asked.

"In and out with a maximum of pleasure and minimum of bullshit. That's always been my motto," Brian responded as he took a tablet of E out of his pocket and placed it on his tongue. He took out another packet and offered it to his companions.

"No, thanks," Michael shook his head. "I better go home to Ben. He worries if I'm out too late."

Brian rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.

"I've got an early morning workout with my trainer," Ted said.

"I didn't know you had a trainer, Theodore?" Brian remarked as he patted Ted on his back.

"Oh, Teddy. That is so wonderful!" Emmett gushed as he clapped his hands together by his mouth. "You're so hot since you had your little nip and tuck last fall, but now you might rival Brian," Emmett teased. "I have an early meeting with a couple planning their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Can you imagine being married so long?"

"Well boys. I guess I will have to entertain queer Pittsburgh on my own." Brian lifted up his glass in a cheers gesture and watched his friends leave.

He ordered two shots of Beam, drinking them in quick succession. He bought himself some Special K and snorted it as well.

"Order me a cab," Brian told the bartender as he looked over the dance floor one last time.

Brian gave the cab driver a $20 bill, significantly over the cost of the fare. He fumbled in his pocket for the key to the building and tried for five minutes to put it in the key hole. The door opened and he stumbled into the building. After waiting for the elevator, he pushed the button for the loft. It took three attempts to punch in the correct code before the door would slide open. He entered the loft, went to his liquor cart, and poured himself another Beam. He felt a burn in his chest as the liquid went down. Looking at the window, he saw the snow falling and then felt his body jerk. He collapsed on the floor of the loft.


Justin painted a red streak across the canvas. He was proud of the large canvas, as it was the signature piece in his upcoming show. Picking up a smaller brush, he filled in an area of deep blue over the left corner of the canvas. The ringing phone jarred him from his muse's hold.

"Hello"

"Yes. This is Justin Taylor."

"When was he brought in?"

"How is he?"

"I see. I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you."

Justin hung up the phone as the sweat poured out of his body. He couldn't think straight as thoughts raced through his mind. What if Brian died? Had the family been told? How would Gus react? How about Mel and Linds? Mikey would be freaking out. What should he do?

His mind shut down, refusing to think about the phone call. As his body switched to automatic, he cleaned his brushes and straightened his studio. He went to his apartment where he packed a bag and called Liberty Air for the first flight out.
_______________________________________________________________________

"You look pale. Can I get you anything?" the flight attendant asked as he touched Justin on the arm.

"Can I get you a drink? Sir" the tall, lanky blonde male asked as he leaned closer to Justin. "The air gets very dry in these airplanes."

"No," Justin replied.

"You look tired. Can I get you a pillow or blanket?"

"No, I'm fine," Justin snapped. "Please leave me alone."

"Okay. But if you need anything, just push this button." The flight attendant leaned over and pointed to the call button.

Justin stared out the window for the remainder of the flight. The flight attendant did not talk to him again.

"Thank you for flying Liberty Air. It is a chilly 25 degrees in Pittsburgh. I hope your stay in Pittsburgh is pleasant and you will join us again soon," the captain said over the intercom.

"Chilly Pittsburgh," Justin mumbled. After his last visit he remembered thinking it would be a cold day in hell before he returned to this city, and now he understood the definition of the phrase. Surely he was entering hell and the cold would freeze his very soul.

Pulling his coat around him, he hailed a taxi, directing the driver to Allegheny General.
Making his way to the ICU, he stopped at the nursing station.

"I'm Justin Taylor. A Dr. Houston called me about Brian Kinney."

"He's in the corner room," the nurse pointed to a doorway caddy corner to the nurse's station. "You can go in, but only for a few minutes. I'll let the doctor know you've arrived."

Justin pulled his coat even tighter around him, trying to ward off the chill in his body. He felt the sweat pool under his arms and trickle down his back, and thought how odd it was to be hot and cold at the same time.

He stared at the door, trying to get his feet to move toward the beeps and whirs coming out of the room

"It's the third one down," the nurse repeated.

"I know."

He took a deep breath and willed his legs to walk into the room.

He gasped at the sight in front of him. Brian was hooked up to what seemed like dozens of machines, and there were wires and tubes coming from every body part. In shock, Justin walked out.

As he turned toward the nurse's station, a man in his late forties wearing a white hospital coat asked, "Are you Mr. Taylor?"

"Yes. Dr. Houston?" Justin answered as he read the name tag on the coat.

"Why don't you follow me to the lounge and we can talk?"

Justin picked up his bag and followed the doctor to the lounge. They sat down on two well worn beige chairs in the farthest corner from the television.

"Mr. Taylor, Mr. Kinney listed you as his emergency contact. Do you have Power of Attorney or Health Care Proxy?

Justin swallowed. "I'm not sure. I used to have them, but we...um... We were together, but aren't anymore," Justin explained.

"Please find out?"

"Doctor, right now I'm here and I want to know about Brian. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Since you're listed as emergency contact, I will update you. But please find out if there is someone else who needs to make medical decisions for Mr. Kinney."

Justin nodded. "I will."

"Mr. Kinney was brought in at 9:00 this morning. He was unconscious, but did respond to pain. His tox screen showed low levels of Ketamine and Ecstasy. His leg was crushed by his weight and by staying in the same position for a long time....From the report of the paramedics, he appeared to have been unconscious for a long time. He is now in a coma."

Justin listened but had difficulty following all the medical jargon. "A coma! He's in a coma. Did he arrive that way? Who found him? Did anyone accompany him to the hospital?" Justin fired off the questions faster than the doctor could answer.

"Yes, he's been in a coma since his arrival by ambulance."

"Do you know who found him?" Justin asked, wondering why no one else was at the hospital.

"According to the ambulance crew, his cleaning lady found him. He was lying on the floor and she couldn't awaken him."

"Do you know why he was in a coma?"

"It is appears that he overdosed on alcohol and drugs. We would have pumped his stomach, but the toxins appeared to have already gone through his system. Unfortunately, the damage was done and it appears that his kidneys are functioning at only 25% capacity. We may have to put him on dialysis."

"Jesus! Will he wake up?"

"We don't know. Only time will tell. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Taylor I have other patients to see. I'll check on Mr. Kinney later today. If his condition changes, the staff will notify me."

"Thank you."

Justin sat in the waiting area. I'm here for a reason, he thought, and I should go down and sit with Brian.

He thought about calling the family but wanted to wait. He hadn't talked to them since early summer time, and that had been very awkward. He needed to find out if he was still listed as Brian's Power of Attorney and Medical Proxy, but that could wait until a little later. The doctor didn't seem too worried that Brian would die anytime soon. The bigger fear was that he wouldn't ever wake up.

Flashback

"I want it done by tomorrow, Theodore. Yes, tomorrow or you will be dead," Brian said as he snapped shut his cell phone.

"Why do you treat Ted the way you do?"

"What do you mean?"

Justin grabbed the beer bottle on the island, twirling it in his hand. "He works for you and you obviously trust him, yet you constantly threaten him."


Brian continued staring at his computer as he clicked at various links on the web page in front of him. "It's complicated. You weren't around back then."

"And..," Justin said trying to walk the fine line between getting Brian to talk and Brian clamming up.

"A long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away..."

Justin glared at Brian despite Brian's face looking at the computer screen. "I'm not Mikey living in his comic book fantasy world," he snapped.

Brian continued to look at the computer screen. "Ted took an accidental overdose and landed in the hospital in a coma. He made me his Medical Proxy and I had to decide when or if to pull the plug."

"Wow. Why'd he choose you if you weren't that close?"

Brian swiveled his chair, looking at Justin. "He knew I was cold hearted enough not to let him suffer. He knew that I would know when to pull the plug."

Justin walked out of the kitchen area toward Brian, wrapping his arms around the older man. "You're not cold hearted, Brian. You're the most generous man I know," Justin said as he kissed Brian.

Brian returned the kiss, but pulled back after a few moments. "After that I told Michael he was my Proxy, but then you came along and now it's you."

"What? You never told me."

"I'm telling you now."

"But... Why not Michael? He's your best friend and he's known you since you were 14."

"Exactly. Mikey would never be able to pull the plug. He couldn't let go. I'm depending on you to know when to pull the plug."

Justin sat on Brian's lap, touching his forehead to Brian's. "Okay."

End Flashback
_________________________________________________________________

The short conversation came back to Justin as he walked towards Brian's room, but the nurse stopped him before he could enter. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait until 2:00 to see Mr. Kinney again. In ICU, he can only have visitors the first fifteen minutes of every hour."

"Oh, okay," Justin nodded as he glanced at his watch. Seeing he had thirty minutes to wait, he went to the cafeteria for some food.

He went through the line, picking out a hamburger, fries and a soda. He paid for his purchases and sat down to eat. Justin's stomach rumbled as he smelled the food. He attempted to eat, but when he took a bite of the burger, it tasted like saw dust and the fries were cold. After dumping the food in the garbage can, he settled for a drink from the water fountain. Justin glanced at a display of fruit as he was leaving and he saw a green apple. He remembered Brian peeling an apple with his pocket knife while lying in bed, as he sketched him. Someone's beeper went off and he was brought back to reality. Justin left the cafeteria and returned to the ICU.

As soon as the clock read 2:00, he made his way down to Brian's room. This time, he sat down in the chair by the bed and watched Brian breathe. Even now, lying in a coma, the man had a twisted hold on him.

He'd read a lot of medical articles after his own injury and remembered reading that even when people are in a coma, they still hear subconsciously.

"So Brian, it's me Justin. The trick that wouldn't go away. You know, it's your own fault this time. You still had me listed as your emergency contact so they called me. I flew down on Liberty Air and the Flight Attendant tried for at least half an hour to pick me up." He frowned as he relayed the story. "I was sort of preoccupied, so I ignored the guy. Maybe when all this is over, I might get lucky and see if he is on my flight back to New York."

"New York. What a place to be." Justin stood up and walked around the small room as he spoke. "I've got a show coming up with another new artist. I'm beginning to make a name for myself." Justin found his backpack and fished around in it until he found a book of photographs of his paintings. "I've been photographing all my work so I can take it to galleries. I have the pictures here in my portfolio. I think you'd be proud of the pieces. You probably aren't going to be well enough to make it to my show, so you'll have to settle for these." He placed the portfolio back in his bag. "I guess Lindsay was right; I needed to go to New York. I was painting this huge piece when I got the phone call from Dr. Houston about your unscheduled stay in their establishment. I wouldn't have thought this was your idea of a great vacation spot, but I guess I don't know you very well. At least that was the impression I got when I was here last summer." Justin frowned deeply as he remembered Brian's statement from last summer. The words still stung.

Flashback
"Justin," Brian yelled as Justin closed the elevator gate. "I don't want you here and don't leave any more messages for me. I know where to find you if I change my mind."

End Flashback

"It doesn't matter anymore. You kept me as you Power of Attorney and Medical Proxy. According to the Brian Kinney operating manual, actions have always been your strong suit," Justin said as he looked at Brian lying in the bed.

"I haven't called the family yet. I don't know if I'm up to dealing with them. I'm sure Mikey will tell me where to go, and well, you know how everyone else will act. Debbie will squeeze me to death and rant about my not keeping in touch." Justin returned to his seat and picked up Brian's hand. It was warm, not cold like he thought it would be. Justin gently ran his fingers up and down Brian's arm, hoping Brian could somehow feel his love through the caress. So often they didn't speak words, but their bodies spoke volumes. "Emmett will tell me how much he misses his "baby". Ted will not say much of anything, but that's Ted, the unemotional accountant. Of course, that doesn't even take into consideration my mom or Daphne, but since you really aren't part of their world unless you're with me, I don't have to tell them. On the other hand, if I stay here long enough, I should go see them."

"I think I'm still your Medical Proxy, but I'll need to call Mel and be sure. Of course, calling Mel will result in telling her why I need to know. Then she'll tell Linds, even if I tell her not to." Justin rolled his eyes, knowing Brian would understand the gesture. "They both listen so well. Of course, Linds will rush right over and fawn over you like the good little wife she is. Yeah, we both know she's married to Mel, but in her heart she'll always have a special love for you."

"Jeez, Brian. Your life is really a soap opera. I forgot about Cynthia. I should really call her since you're her boss." He picked up his phone, scrolling through the entries to see if she was listed. He stopped midway through and hit his hand against his forehead. "I'm an idiot. I have your number at Kinnetik. I don't need to call her desk directly." He placed his phone back on his belt clip. "Since you didn't show up to work today, and probably won't for a while, she'd appreciate knowing where you are."

"I wonder if my mom talked to me like this when I was in a coma." Justin touched his hand to the scar on his forehead, rubbing the area lightly. "I know you didn't talk to me since you didn't come see me. Still makes me mad that you didn't come see me." Justin lightly touched his balled fist to Brian's upper arm, giving it a slight push. "You wouldn't have known what to say. I can just see you sitting here telling me about the hot trick you picked up in Babylon and took to the back room. The nurses would have gotten quite an earful if you'd been heard relaying your exploits."

"You know, all these wires and tubes and noises are really scary. What if you don't wake up? What if you get worse and I have to decide to make a medical decision? I hate you right now. More than I ever hated you in the past. I don't want this responsibility. You have to wake up just so I can yell at you and tell you what as ass you really are. What were you thinking? Are you in that much pain?" Justin squeezed Brian's hand, even though he knew Brian would think the gesture lesbianic.

The nurse came in to check on Brian and said, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to come back at 3:30."

"3:30? I thought I could see him every hour?"

"Shift change," she said as she checked the different tubes and wires.

"Any change?" Justin asked.

"No, he's the same."

"Is that good? I mean, that he's the same."

"You'll have to talk to the doctor. He should be in within an hour."

Justin left Brian's room and returned to the waiting area. He picked up a Reader's Digest, and then put it back on the table. He found the remote for the television and flipped channels for a while, but in the end, left it on some soap opera. He sat down and then stood right back up. Finally it was time for him to go to Brian's room.

Each time it was a little easier to walk in. He'd gotten over the initial shock of seeing Brian's still body with all the tubes and machines hooked to it. He pulled up a chair and began talking again. "And then the other guy said...." Justin stopped his story when the doctor entered.

The doctor picked up Brian's chart, making a few notes in it.

"How is he, doctor?"

"There's been no change."

"Is that good?"

"Well I was hoping for some return of his kidney function. If it doesn't improve by tomorrow, we'll have to start dialysis. While he can function on 25%, it is not ideal. Your friend took a lot of drugs and his system is still trying to process them. He's lucky to be alive."

"Thank you."

"Why don't you go home and get some rest. Leave your information with the nurse and she'll call you if there's any change."

Justin nodded at the doctor as he left the room.

"Home. The doctor thinks I should go home. Where is that, Brian?" Justin stood and paced the small area like a caged animal. "Should I go to the loft? Should I call my mom and ask if I can stay there? I know. I could call Debbie and ask to stay in my old room," he said sarcastically. "Debbie would rant and rave and say how you deserved to be in a coma, etc, etc... Then she'd squeeze the breath out of me, start crying and fix a huge pan of Puttenesca. No, I don't think I'll call her. Now if I was Brian Kinney, I could whip out my Platinum credit card and stay at the nicest suite in town." Justin took out his wallet and made a grand gesture of looking for a credit card. "But, I'm not Brian Kinney and I don't have a Platinum credit card, and I don't know where to go," Justin ranted at Brian as he felt the tears fall down his cheeks. "I don't know where to go."

Justin let the tears fall. But no one was there to dry them, or tell him he was a silly little faggot for crying over his lover.

The nurse came in again, checking Brian's vitals. "Mr. Taylor, visiting hours are over; you'll have to leave and come back tomorrow. If you want to leave your phone number at the desk, we'll call you if there is any change in his condition."

Justin looked up at the nurse, "I'm sorry, what did you say? I wasn't paying attention."

"I said visiting hours are over. Please leave your information at the desk and we'll call you if there is a change in Mr. Kinney's condition."

"Okay. I just want to say goodbye."

Justin picked up his bag, leaned over Brian's face; touched his forehead to Brian's and said, "Later." He walked out of the room and went to the lobby.

Justin plopped down in one of the chairs in the lobby of the hospital. There were few people in the area and it was eerily quiet. It was dark outside. His stomach rumbled. The clock on the wall read 9:15. He remembered that his last meal had been breakfast in New York. Mentally he did the math and realized that had been over 12 hours ago.

It was Monday, a work day. Better chance for people to be home rather than at the bars.

He flagged down a taxi and gave the man an address. He closed his eyes, laying his head against the back of the seat.

"Sir, we're here," the driver said.

"Sir, we've arrived," he said a little louder.

"Oh, sorry. How much?"

"Ten dollars."

Justin handed the man $12.00 and took his bag into the apartment building. He pressed the buzzer, hoping it would be answered.

"Yes,"

"Daph, its Justin. Can I come up?"

‘Justin? What are you doing here? Everything okay?"

"Just buzz me in and I'll explain."

"Oh. Okay," she said as she buzzed him in.

Justin walked up the one flight of stairs, barely able to pick his legs up to climb the next step. He knocked on Daphne's door, and she flung it open.

"You look like shit. What happened to you?"

Justin walked in, put down his bag and collapsed on Daphne's couch. "Got any food? I haven't eaten all day."

She put her hand on his forehead. "You're not running a fever. I'll make you a tuna sandwich. That okay?"

"Sure." Justin laid his head back and closed his eyes.

When Daphne returned, tear tracks ran down his face.

"Here," she said as she handed him the sandwich. "Eat, and then tell me what's wrong."

Justin took a few bites of the sandwich as his stomach grumbled. He finished the sandwich then put the plate down.

"Talk," Daphne demanded. She curled up in the chair opposite Justin, offering him a cigarette.

He shook his head no. "I got a call this morning from Allegheny General. Brian was brought in to the hospital. He's in a coma," Justin said very softly.

"Oh my G-d. But, I thought you two..."

"I'm still listed as his emergency contact. I still care about him, Daph. Even if we're not together."

She got up from her chair and got two beers from the refrigerator. Handing one to Justin, she drank some of her beer, waiting for him to continue.

"No one else knows. I haven't told anyone."

"Justinnn,"

"I don't know what to do, Daph. He made it really clear this summer that we were finished. I should go to New York and never come back. I haven't talked to him in almost eight months. I get this call and now I have to make medical decisions for him that may determine if he lives or dies." New tears rolled down Justin's cheeks, and he wiped them with his shirt sleeve.

"You aren't doing anything right now. You're dead on your feet. You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch. We'll talk in the morning." Daphne stood up and got sheets for the couch. "Here," she said as she handed him a sheet. "Help me make the couch. I just changed my sheets this morning."

They made the couch and Justin went to the bedroom to sleep. He undressed quickly, getting under the blankets. Closing his eyes, he saw Brian lying in the hospital bed hooked up to the machines, but soon his exhaustion took over, and he slept until morning.
___________________________________________________________________


The sun's rays hit his face through the sheer curtains. Looking around, it took a few moments for him to orient himself and realize where he was. He sat up straight in bed.

"Shit. What time is it? I've got to get back. What if he wakes up?" He said to himself under his breath.

Daphne heard movement in the bedroom and popped her head in the doorway. "I made you pancakes. Go shower and I'll drive you to the hospital."

"I don't have time. I have to get back," Justin said as he pulled fresh clothes out of his bag.

"The hospital has your number. They'll call if anything changes." Grabbing a towel from the linen closet, she handed it to him. "You need your strength if you're going to spend all day sitting with Brian. It's tiring. I remember. Now shoo."

Justin took a quick shower and ate some breakfast. Daphne drove him to the hospital.

Daphne drove to the circle drive where patients were discharged. "Want me to come in with you?" She asked as she glanced at her watch.

"No. They only let me sit with him fifteen minutes every hour. If he wakes up, then it might be different. You would just be sitting in the waiting room most of the day. I'll call you if anything changes."

"You sure?" she asked as he opened the door.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"I'll be back at 7:00 to pick you up."

"Visiting hours is over at 9:00."

"If you want to stay until 9:00, then I'll sit with you. You're not spending all day by yourself with the asshole."

"Daph, don't say it. I'm as much to blame as he is."

"Whatever. I got to get to work. Later, Justin."

Justin walked to the small garden off the main entry way. It was cold, but there wasn't anyone there. He scrolled down his phone until he came to the familiar number, and hit the button to connect.

"Ms. Marcus, please."

"Mr. Taylor," he said as the secretary asked who he was.

"Justin. How are you? We haven't heard from you since this summer. Everything okay?"

"Hi, Mel. Did Brian ever change his Medical Proxy?"

"No. I guess he hadn't gotten around to it. Probably too busy screwing every hot guy in town. Why?"

"Not now, Mel. You know he never leaves anything to chance. If he'd wanted to change it, he would have."

"True. Justin, why are you asking out of the blue?"

"I just needed to know."

"Justin Taylor, you tell me right now what is going on," Melanie demanded in her best motherly voice.

"Mel, promise you won't say anything?" Justin urged.

"Okay."

"I'm in Pittsburgh. Allegheny General. Brian's in a coma."

There was silence on both ends of the phone for a few moments.

"Shit. What happened?"

"We'll talk later," Justin answered evasively. "Thanks for the information. The doctor wanted to know who had Medical Proxy for Brian. I guess I'm the lucky one," Justin said as he swallowed the tears that were threatening to fall again.

"I can come down," Melanie volunteered.

"No. You have a job and clients. I'll be fine. Thanks, Mel."

"Justinnn," She sighed. "Be careful."

"Bye, Mel."

"Goodbye." Justin put his phone away.

Brian never let his personal or professional matters slide, yet he hadn't changed his Medical Proxy. That must mean something... maybe it meant that his harsh words this summer weren't true. Maybe it was another attempt to push him off the proverbial cliff. Maybe there was hope for them to be together. He would always love Brian, and now maybe they had a second chance. Really this was a third or fourth or fifth chance... he'd stopped counting. Something kept bringing them together, and this time he wanted them to stay that way. He would do everything in his power to ensure Brian recovered. He wanted another chance. He stood outside until he realized that the snow was covering his shoes and his feet were cold. He stepped inside the building; his feet tingling from the sudden warmth. He had one more phone call to make before going to see Brian.

Scrolling through his cell phone, he found the number for the main switchboard at Kinnetik. He usually called Brian directly, but there were a few times that he'd gone through the main office. He hit the button and waited for the call to connect.

"Cynthia please," he asked.

"May I ask who is calling?"

There was a time when he wouldn't be asked that question, as everyone at Kinnetik knew him, but times change. "Justin Taylor"

"I'll see if she's available."

"Thank you," he said, as his country club manners kicked in allowing him to be calm in this situation.

‘Justin. Good to hear from you. Brian isn't here. To what do I owe your call?"

"Hi Cynthia. Umm... I,"

"What is it, Justin?"

"Brian won't be in to work for a while. He's in a coma at Allegheny General."

"Oh my G-d. How come Ted didn't say anything?"

"He doesn't know. Nobody knows. Yet. I haven't told them," Justin explained as he tried to keep the tears away.

"What happened? Was he in an accident?" Cynthia gripped the phone as she listened.

"You'll have to ask him when he wakes up. I really don't want to say," Justin answered evasively.

"Okay. I'll hold the fort. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will. Look, I have to go now. I haven't seen him yet this morning."

"Justin. Please keep me posted. He's more than just my boss," Cynthia reminded him.

"I know. I will."

He closed his phone. He knew he would have to call the family, probably today, but right now he just wanted to see Brian. Maybe if he was lucky, Brian would be conscious, and he could return to New York. The nurses would have called if he'd woken up, so he pushed that thought away. Going back to New York without trying to get their relationship back on track wasn't really an option either. Justin knew he would be in Pittsburgh for awhile. He wanted to help Brian. Brian's latest pain management technique was an abysmal failure, and he really didn't want Brian to succeed at his next attempt.

Justin went up to ICU and stopped at the nurse's station.

"Excuse me. I'm Justin Taylor. Can you tell me how Mr. Kinney is?"

The nurse found his chart, saw that Mr. Taylor was listed as emergency contact, and then flipped to the last information entered. "He's stable and there has been no change. The doctor hasn't seen him this morning, but he should be making rounds within the hour. Visiting hours just started. You can see him for fifteen minutes, but then you need to let him rest."

"Thank you." Justin walked into Brian's room, quickly adjusting once again to seeing all the machinery attached to Brian.

Justin walked over to the bed, reaching for Brian's hand, holding it gently as he stroked it. "Okay, asshole. I'm back. You really need to wake up. I had to call Mel and verify that I am your Medical Proxy. Of course that meant that I had to tell her why I needed to know. You know that means that within a very short time, she will tell Lindsay and the circus will start. I can't wait to see the bucket of tears she will cry for you."

"Oh, and I called Cynthia. You know I had to tell her." He leaned over to kiss Brian's forehead, and then sat next to Brian's bed. "She can't exactly make excuses for your sorry ass forever without at least knowing what happened. I told her that Ted didn't know, and I at least trust her not to tell him. However, seeing how Mel and Ted are best friends. How a dyke and a ... not sure what to call Ted... became friends, I'll never know. Anyway, where was I? I'm sure Mel will tell Ted, based on some feeling that he will want to know because he is your friend. There really isn't any client/attorney confidentiality issue here, so she will feel justified. Ted of course will tell Mikey and Emmett. Well of course, you know the drill. One good thing, it saves me a lot of phone calls. I wonder how long it will take for the Gay Pittsburgh grapevine to work?"

He brought up his right hand again and this time touched his second finger with this index finger, making another salient point that Brian may or may not have heard. "By the way, I decided to stay with Daphne. She at least won't judge me too harshly. She said something about coming up here to sit with me around 7:00 tonight. That gives me about 6+ hours with the vultures... I mean family. Vultures is probably more accurate, as they may tear me apart when they find out I didn't call them right away."

"Mr. Taylor, you'll have to leave now. Your 15 minutes are up, but you can come back in an hour. The lounge is down the hall," the nurse said as she stepped in the room to begin Brian's medical work up.

As the nurse started to put her stethoscope in her ears, Justin stood up and pushed his chair away from the bed, leaned over and touched his forehead to Brian's. "Okay. Brian, when the family shows up, I'm sure they will insist on seeing you. I may not be able to come back for awhile. I will be here though, and I promise I'll stay until you've recovered. Later."

The doctor came in just as Justin was leaving. Justin waited in the family area so that the doctor could easily find him after he was finished with Brian's examination.

"Mr. Taylor," Dr. Houston said as he directed Justin to a seat by the window. "Mr. Kinney's kidney function is not improving. You need to decide if we should start him on dialysis."

"Will it be permanent?"

"Hopefully not. By putting him on dialysis, it will allow his kidneys to repair themselves. We can only hope that the damage wasn't permanent. We'll know after a few days."

"What is involved with dialysis?" Justin asked as he tried to pay attention to the doctor's words.

"We would place a temporary shunt in his neck that would be hooked up to the machine," the doctor said as he pointed to an area of his neck.

Justin cringed at the description. Brian's neck was so sensitive, and he loved to suck the skin there. It was an erogenous zone for both of them. He quickly brought his mind back to the doctor's conversation. "Would he be in pain?" Justin asked.

"While he's in a coma, he may feel pain, but we don't know. When he wakes up, the tubing could be uncomfortable."

"Are you saying that the dialysis would help him regain consciousness?" Justin asked, hearing the first hopeful information to date.

"An EEG was performed this morning and it showed no signs of Brain damage, and that his brain waves looked as normal as could be expected at this point in time. It could make a difference, but we can't know for certain. We're hoping that the dialysis will help his body heal faster. Once the toxins leave his bloodstream, he should wake up." The doctor's pager went off and he looked at the screen.

"Excuse me. I'll be right back, but I need to respond to this page."

Justin watched the doctor return to the nurse's station and use the phone. He thought about the situation. Brian would not want to live with a bunch of machines hooked up to him, but if a temporary solution, i.e. dialysis would allow him to regain consciousness and start to heal, he could see Brian allowing that.

Anger washed over him and he inwardly cursed Brian. If you would only learn to accept your feelings and not hide them behind drugs and alcohol, none of this would have happened. When you wake up, we are going to talk, and you are going to listen! You can't kick me out this time. He envisioned some of those conversations with Brian, and they were just as scary as the doctor's medical jargon.

The doctor returned. "I apologize for the interruption."

"You were telling me how dialysis would get rid of the toxins in Brian's body."

"Yes, dialysis would filter the toxins out of his body quicker, and he might regain consciousness quicker."

"That would be great," Justin smiled, not a big one, but the first one since he'd arrived.

"Is there any risk?"

"Mr. Taylor, there is always risk, but I think that this is his best chance for recovery," the doctor said as he looked at his watch.

"What would happen if he doesn't have dialysis?"

"His body will slowly try to rid itself of the toxins. His kidneys are already struggling, and the effort may result in permanent damage. He might have to have a transplant."

"Is there a risk for dialysis?" Justin asked.

"Yes. If he goes on dialysis, there is always the chance that his body will rely on it too much and he will never be able to go off. Also there is always a risk of bleeding, bruising, blood clots, and infection at the site of the shunt."

"What would you suggest?" Justin hoped that the doctor would give him opinion.

"I can't make that decision. You are his Medical Proxy. He wants you to decide," the doctor started to stand up again. "If you decide to start dialysis, I have the consent forms here," he said as he showed them to Justin.

"When do you need a decision?"

"As soon as possible. If we are to start dialysis, we need to do it soon. His body has already been fighting for three days."

"Okay. Do it. I know Brian doesn't want to be hooked up to a bunch of machines for the rest of his life, but if dialysis can help him rid his body of toxins, then do it. I'll deal with the consequences later." Justin agreed, as he held out his hand for the clipboard holding the consent forms.

"I'll let the nurse know and she will make the arrangements."

Justin walked over to the window, looking at the people on the street. Everyone appeared to have a destination; they were going somewhere. He was stuck here in this hospital, waiting for Brian to wake up.

He picked up a well worn copy of People and flipped through it trying to find an interesting article. Finding nothing of interest, he put the magazine down and walked down the corridor to the bathroom. He took a sip of water from the water fountain, and then went inside the bathroom. Turning on the faucets, he splashed cold water on his face. Looking in the mirror for the first time, he saw how tired he looked and how pale his face was. Justin remembered there was a coffee machine at the other end of the corridor, so he left to find some coffee. He poured the coffee into a small Styrofoam cup and put one sugar in it with a little cream. Smiling, he remembered how he always teased Brian that he had a little coffee with his sugar. He supposed that drinking coffee was a social thing, and Brian probably really didn't like the taste but had learned to mask it with lots of sugar. If drinking Beam was a social thing, then Brian would have been the first to drink it at every function. Returning to the waiting room, Justin looked at the clock, and for the first time in his life he truly understood the saying ‘a watched pot never boils.' It had only been forty five minutes since he left Brian's room, and the nurses told him it would be several hours until Brian had the shunt placed in his neck. Sitting in silence, he spent the remaining time remembering Brian and his tumultuous relationship. When the nurse told him Brian had returned from the procedure, and he was elated to see him, if for no other reason than to shut down his racing thoughts.

Brian had a shunt in his neck for the dialysis. It had two tubes coming out of it; one had clear fluid in it and the other had blood. He hoped that it didn't hurt. A new machine was in the room, and he guessed that this was the portable dialysis machine. The machine made a lot of noise, and he was sure that if Brian were awake he would be greatly annoyed by the constant racket.

"Well. I'm still here and you have another machine hooked up to your body." He watched the blood flow out of Brian's body, into the machine, and back out, and marveled at modern science. "You're beginning to look like a science experiment. The dialysis machine will hopefully clean your blood faster than your kidneys were doing it. I know that you wouldn't want to be hooked up to a machine for the rest of your life, but I think you'd be okay with it for just a little while. I'm sorry if I'm wrong. I know sorry is bullshit, but you know what, so is this. Its bullshit that you took so many drugs and allowed yourself to end up like this. I don't know if you did this on purpose or it was an accident. It really doesn't matter. It happened and now we... and I mean we, have to deal with the consequences."

Justin stood up and walked around the room. It was tiny and there was no window. He guessed that people in ICU were too sick to wonder about the weather outside, or to get up and stand by the window. He'd not thought about hospitals a lot and really hated this one; it held too many painful memories.

"I talked to Mel, and she said that you were probably too busy screwing to change your Medical Proxy. Now, you and I both know that nothing you do is by accident. So, Mr. Kinney, when you wake up from your little self-imposed nap, and you will wake up, you hear me? When you wake up, we will have a little talk about your ‘accident'." Justin heard his voice rising as he talked, and he hoped he wasn't heard by the nurses. The last thing he needed was to be kicked out of the ICU.

"So far the family hasn't shown up. I keep waiting to hear any one of them walk into the waiting room, yelling and screaming. They do tend to forget that hospitals are where the sick people are. I remember when Ben was in the hospital last year. Sometimes his room resembled a party, except he wasn't having any fun. There were so many people in that room and it was so loud, I'm sure he needed to go home just to get some rest. I'll try to control the family and keep them quiet, but you know how they are.'

His stomach growled and he looked at his watch, surprised to see it was after 2:00. Brian always teased him about his need for food on a regular basis. He'd give anything for that teasing voice right now.

"I'm hungry so I'll going down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. Hopefully you won't get any visitors until I come back. I hope you remember some of what I say; I really don't want to have to repeat it. The nurses all tell me that talking helps the patient and even if we think that they don't hear us, they really do. If nothing else my talking might make you wake up just so you can tell me to be quiet."


^^^^^^^^^
Brian looked at Vic standing by his bed. His eyes darted around the room, noting the strange machines and the loud noises. "Where the hell am I? And what is that awful noise? My leg burns and my neck feels like something is poking it. And where the hell did you come from?"

"Hi Brian. It's another fine mess you got yourself into," Vic said as picked up the covers to look at Brian.

"What are you looking at, you old perv? You always wanted to look at my naked body." Brian swatted Vic's hand away.

"Wait a minute. You're dead, so why are you here? Am I dead?"

"What do you think?" Vic asked as he studied the machines in the room.

"No, if I were dead I wouldn't be here talking to you. I'd be surrounded by fire and brimstone and the devil would be talking to me. That's what Joan tells me."

"So you believe Joan?" Vic said as he made a waving motion with his hand.

"No. I don't think my lifestyle will cause eternal damnation, but you're dead and I'm talking to you, so..."

"No, not dead yet. But..."

"But what?"

"Listen to Justin. He's telling you all about what happened."

"What the fuck is Justin doing here? He's supposed to be in New York."

Vic left and Brian heard the last of Justin's conversation, "...might make you wake up so you can tell me to be quiet."

^^^^^^^^^^
Justin walked back to Brian's bed. He studied each machine in the room, trying to figure out what they were doing for Brian. In the end, he really didn't care. He just wanted Brian to wake up.

"I love you Brian. Please wake up soon." Justin leaned over and kissed Brian on the lips very softly. He leaned his forehead on top of Brian's and touched the two together. "Later." He walked out just as the nurse walked in to check on Brian's vitals again.

He stopped at the nurse's station. "Excuse me. I'm Brian Kinney's friend. I'm going to get something to eat. Can you please call me on my cell if there is any change?"

"Of course. The dialysis treatment will take at least six hours. We may not see a change until he completes several treatments, but I'll call you if there is any change."

Justin walked down to the cafeteria. It was in the basement, and he took the stairs to get his body moving. He could paint for hours and not be affected, but sitting around was hard work. He began to understand what his family had gone through when he was in a coma. Justin hoped that he wouldn't have to wait long for Brian to wake up. Brian had been in a coma for three days, not nearly as long as he had been in his coma after Hobbs hit him. Of course, he had been hit in the head, and Brian had overdosed. He supposed the reason for the coma didn't really matter, as the medical implications were the same.

Going through the line, he picked out a cheeseburger, fries, a milk shake and a piece of pecan pie. At least the hospital had reasonable choices. He paid for his purchases, and sat at a table for two by the stairs. Biting into the cheeseburger, he found it was pretty good, and he quickly finished it and the fries. He drank the shake and ate all of his pie as well. Looking at his watch he saw that he managed to take almost half an hour to eat. That meant he could see Brian again in fifteen minutes. He put his tray on the conveyer line and went into the bathroom.

After using the bathroom, he felt for his cigarettes and realized that he must have left them at Daphne's. He vaguely remembered her offering him one last night. He walked up to the gift shop, hoping to buy some.

"We don't sell cigarettes, Sir," the young man behind the counter informed him. "You can buy them at the gas station two blocks down the street. Besides, our campus is smoke free, and you can't smoke anywhere on hospital grounds."

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can help you with? Perhaps a book or a gift for the person you are visiting?"

"No thanks. I'll pass."

Justin walked out of the gift shop. It was almost time for another short visit, and he hurried to Brian's room.

Justin walked into the room, taking a minute to adjust to the still form on the bed. He leaned over and kissed Brian on the cheek and stood up, watching as he breathed. "Hi Brian. Hmm, Maybe I need to come up with a new intro. I just got back from lunch. I didn't think I was hungry. Imagine, me not being hungry, but I guess there is a first for everything. Anyway, the food here isn't bad. No one from the family has shown up yet. Maybe I'm wrong and the grape vine isn't working. I guess if I don't hear from anyone by the end of the day, I will have to make those dreaded phone calls."

"So, I'm no doctor, but your color looks better. The nurses said it would take about six hours for the treatment, and that you wouldn't probably respond until you finished at least two treatments. Of course, they don't know Brian fucking Kinney like I do."

Justin's body itched to do something besides sit for 45 minutes, and then talk to Brian for 15 minutes each hour. He couldn't imagine drawing Brian in his current condition, but maybe he could draw other things. It might help him cope. He pulled the chair closer to Brian and lifted Brian's hand, placing it in his own. He squeezed it, hoping for a response but didn't receive one. He absently rubbed Brian's arm while he talked.

"I went to buy some cigarettes, and can you believe that they don't sell them in the gift shop. I have to go all the way to the gas station two blocks away. And even if I had cigarettes, I couldn't smoke them. It's a smoke-free campus. I know you would say some clever thing about all the bureaucrats, but they may have a point. Cigarette smoke does cause cancer. You've already had cancer so maybe you're exempt, but I don't think so. Maybe after you wake up, you'll lose your desire for them. They say that it takes at least a week for the cravings to die down. You'll be in here for longer than that, so maybe you could break the habit while you're in here."

To Justin's shock, the machines started beeping loudly and the nurses ran in.

"You'll have to leave, Mr. Taylor," the blonde nurse said as she walked Justin out of the room.

Justin watched Brian's room from the waiting area. He paced, looked out the window, ran his hands over his face, tried to sit down, and then started the whole sequence again. After what seemed like an hour but in reality was only twenty minutes, the nurse came out to talk to him.

"What happened?"

"His blood pressure fell too low. We gave him some medication and he appears to have stabilized for now, but we will continue to monitor him. You can see him in another hour."

‘Okay," Justin said as he sat down with a thud in the nearest chair. He closed his eyes as he thought about his last thirty six hours. My day started out normal, painting, getting ready for an upcoming showcase of my work, and then my world turned upside down with a short two minute phone call. Brian was in a coma, and now I'm back in Pittsburgh with him. I'm making medical decisions for a man whom I don't even know wants me around. I'm estranged from a family that would want to know that Brian is ill, yet I can't bring myself to tell them. How am I going to fix this? Brian always fixed everything, and now it's my turn. I'm not sure I can.

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 4:00. He didn't think he could do this for another five hours. He needed to move; he couldn't sit any longer. He walked to the end of the corridor and was about to walk down another hallway, when he heard his name.

"Justin."

He turned around, and there was Lindsay and Melanie. He walked over to them and gave them both a hug.

"What happened?" Lindsay asked.

"He overdosed, and is now in a coma. They had to put him on dialysis, too," Justin said as he walked back to the waiting area.

They followed him, sitting down opposite him in the well-worn chairs.

"Have you seen him?" Lindsay asked as she curled her hair around her ear.

"They only let me in once every forty five minutes, and then I only get to stay for fifteen minutes. He can have visitors in about ten minutes. I think they'll let two people go in at once."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course. Why don't you both go in?" Justin said, knowing that it was the right thing to do.

"Thank you."

They sat and watched the clock until it was visiting time. Melanie and Lindsay went into the room. Lindsay gasped when she saw all the machines Brian was hooked up to. Tears ran down her face and she sobbed into Mel's chest.

"Oh Brian, what have you done?" She wailed. She could only stay for a few minutes and quickly retreated out to the waiting room.

Mel continued to comfort Linds. "Justin, why don't you spend the remaining time with him?"

Justin nodded and walked into Brian's room. He was far enough removed from the waiting room that Mel and Linds couldn't hear him.

"Okay. Do I get points for calling it right? Lindsay and Mel just showed up. Lindz asked to see you and remembering my country club manners, I agreed. She stayed all of two minutes, broke down in tears and now is being comforted by Mel. Now I'm not saying I didn't cry too. Of course, I did. But now, I don't cry every time I walk in. The machines are noisy and you just lay there which is so unnatural. It's creepy, Brian. I keep expecting that you will look at me and start yelling each time I walk in the room. But then I see you hooked up to all the machines, wires and tubes coming out of too many places in your body, and wonder if I'll ever hear you yell at me again."

He walked around the room, trying to alleviate the tension in his body. "I wonder how long it will take for everyone else to arrive? At least Melanie and Lindsay aren't going to scream at me and tell me it's my fault. One good thing about Mel hating your guts is that she will never defend you, and she will always be on my side when it comes to you. I can do no wrong and every problem we ever had is your fault."

Justin pulled the chair over to the bed. He gently lifted Brian's hand, placing it in his own and giving it a small squeeze. "You know, you need to stop making those alarm bells go off. You scared the shit out of me when you did that. They tell me that your blood pressure fell too low and they had to give you drugs to bring it back up. Stop it! Get your blood clean and those kidneys working and wake up. I want to yell at you when you're awake."

"My time's up. Love you," he said as he ended his visit by touching their foreheads together and whispering "later".

Justin returned to the waiting area and he found Lindsay had quit crying.

"Where are you staying, Justin? You know you can stay with us. Gus would love to see you," Lindsay said as she grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"Thanks, but I'm staying with Daphne. I don't know that staying with you guys is a good idea. Gus always expects Brian and me to be together, and he'd start asking questions."

"You're right. Do you need anything?" Lindsay asked, dabbing her eyes again.

"No. I just need Brian to wake up."

"We had better go pick Gus up from day care. We'll come back tomorrow. Get some rest, Justin. You look exhausted," Lindsay said as she gave a small smile.

"Thanks, I'll let you know if anything changes," Justin said.

Justin watched the women walk out of the ICU wing, and a pang of jealousy hit him. They were going home to their family and would most likely be spending the night playing with Gus, instead of sitting in this shitty waiting room, waiting for Brian to wake up.

He had another forty five minutes until he'd be allowed to see Brian again, so he went down to the lobby to call Daphne. It was too cold to go outside, so he sat in the row of chairs in the lobby.

"Hey," he said when she answered her phone.

"Everything okay? I didn't expect to hear from you," Daphne asked as she put down the papers in her hand and started to grab her car keys.

"Nothing's changed. I just needed to hear a friendly voice."

Daphne put down her keys and sat back in her chair. "So..."

"I called Cynthia and Melanie. I had to find out if I was Brian's Medical Proxy and she said I was. Of course, then I had to explain why I needed to know." Justin got out of his chair and helped a pregnant woman with some packages. She was struggling to hold them and the balloons she was carrying.

She smiled at him and mouthed, "thank you." He nodded and continued talking.

"Melanie and Lindsay showed up here a little bit ago. They went in to see Brian and Lindsay broke down crying. They offered to have me stay with them," Justin said as he tried to keep his voice neutral. He slammed his fist on the chair in frustration.

"They had to put Brian on dialysis, too. Oh Daph, I don't know if I can do this."

"Justin Taylor," Daphne scolded him. "You will do this and you will do it well. I'll be there in about..." She looked at her watch. "Twenty- five minutes. We can talk when I get there."

Justin sighed as he wiped away a stray tear that had fallen down his cheek. "Thanks, you're the best."

Daphne laughed, "Don't you forget it. I'll find you in the ICU waiting room."

Justin knew he couldn't see Brian for at least thirty minutes, and he didn't want to go back to the waiting area. He put on his coat and scarf and walked down to the gas station to buy some cigarettes. There was too much going on for him to think about quitting smoking now.

He smoked a cigarette on his walk back. What am I going to do if he doesn't wake up? Do I have the ability to tell the doctors to pull the plug? Wait a minute, Taylor, he isn't dying and Dr. Houston never said he was at death's door. He's just in a coma. Mind you, no one knows if and when he'll ever wake up. This is a different kind of hell than what he had to face with Ted. Ted was connected to all kinds of machines. The only machines Brian has are not life-saving. Geez, leave it to Brian to have a medical crisis that isn't life threatening, but still very serious. He will wake up. He's too stubborn to stay in a coma, besides I have to kick his ass a thousand ways from Sunday. He savored each puff, and was sad when he arrived at the hospital, since that meant he couldn't smoke another one.

He took off his coat when he entered the hospital and took the elevator up to the ICU floor. There was a young man sitting by the window, just staring out the glass and Justin approached him.

‘Hi,' Justin said as he stuck out his hand to shake the other man's.

"Hi," the man said back. "I'm waiting for the doctor. My wife was in a car accident. They don't know if she'll make it," he said as tears rolled down his eyes. "We've only been married three years."

"I'm sorry,' Justin said.

"Who are you here for?"

"My partner. He's in a coma and on dialysis," Justin said with little emotion. He was surprised that he didn't choke up when he explained Brian's condition. He didn't think that after two days he'd be used to it.

"I'm sorry. I hope he gets better," the man said as he stood up. "I see her doctor coming out of her room, and I want to talk to him.

"Thank you. I hope your wife is okay," Justin said as he looked at the clock. Time had managed to flow, and he could see Brian again.

The machines in Brian's room were still loud, and Brian still hadn't moved.

"I guess I'm talked out. Bet you never thought you'd hear that? Anyway I'm just going to sit with you," Justin said as he pulled the chair closer to the bed. He ran his finger over Brian's arm and softly caressed his face. He traced his lips with his finger. They were dry and cracked. He took out the lip balm he always carried and applied some to Brian's lips. Brian hated kissing him when he put the balm on, but Justin always told him to get over it, as he would hate kissing cracked lips more.

"I love you. Please let the machines work and help you wake up," Justin said as he leaned over Brian to touch their foreheads together. "Later," he whispered when it was time to go.

He walked out of the room and saw Daphne waiting in the family area.

"Daph," he said softly as he hugged her. "Thanks."

"No problem. I got to work kind of early today so I could skip out," she said as she returned his hug. "How's Brian?"

"The same. I..." Justin started to talk, but then tears began to fall.

Daphne held him while he cried. When he stopped, she pulled him toward some chairs.
"Justin, I can't tell you it will be fine. I'm here for you. Do you want to go home?"

Justin looked at his friend and was very grateful for her friendship. He knew she would be there to listen to his ranting and hold him when he needed it.

"I can't. Visiting hours aren't over till 9:00."

"Justin, he didn't even come see you when you were in the hospital. Why do you need to be here every waking moment?" Daphne said with irritation.

"That happened six years ago and things are different now. Since then he's told me he loved me and even asked me to marry him. How can I abandon him?"

Daphne held Justin with both hands at arm's length. "Justin Taylor. You are no longer obligated to that man in there. He told you so last summer when he broke your heart yet again. I can't believe I just heard you say that."

Justin pushed her hands off his arms and looked defiantly at Daphne. "I don't expect you to understand us. The fact that Brian didn't change his Medical Proxy means a lot. He still cares for me, and in his twisted mind he thinks that if he tells me to go away it's for my own good. Not necessarily what he wants, but for my own good. I need to stay."

Daphne looked at her best friend, seeing the determined look and love in his eyes. She couldn't deny that they made a great, if exasperating couple. "Okay, but have you eaten?"

"I ate lunch about 2:00. I'm not really hungry."

Laughing, Daphne said, "You, not hungry. Hurry, someone call Guinness."

Justin punched her in the arm, and he laughed as well.

They talked quietly together the rest of the evening. Justin went into Brian's room once an hour and talked to him, but Brian never stirred. After Justin's last visit, he returned to the nurse's station.

"I'm leaving for the evening. Please call me if Brian's condition changes."

The nurse smiled at Justin and said, "Of course, Mr. Taylor, but we really don't expect any changes for a few days."

Justin returned to Daphne's home where he took a shower and collapsed into bed. His alarm went off at 8:00 the next morning. He and Daphne had a bowl of cereal and some yogurt, and she drove him to the hospital once again.

"Call if you need anything. I'll leave work early and come sit with you."

"You don't have to, Daphne," Justin said as he opened the door.

"You're my best friend. Of course, I do."

By now the route to the nurse's station was a familiar one, and once there he flagged down one of the busy nurses.

"Excuse me, how is Brian?"

The nurse picked up his chart. "He had a quiet evening. He's having his second dialysis treatment now, but you can see him in twenty minutes."

"Thank you.'

Justin went to the waiting area and saw the same man from yesterday. He sat down opposite the man.

"How's your wife?"

"Alive. The doctor stopped her bleeding. They say the next 24 hours are critical."

"That's good."

The two men sat in silence for a few moments.

"Oh, how rude of me. How is your partner?"

"The same. Thanks for asking."

Justin had brought his back pack today with his art supplies, hoping to make the time go faster. He pulled out a small sketch pad and began drawing the man in the waiting room. The worry lines on the man's forehead and around his eyes seemed to age him almost daily. The man had told him he was only thirty, yet Justin thought he looked closer to forty; the circles under his eyes were almost black from lack of sleep and his unshaven face cast a dark pallor on his skin. When he kept busy, time seemed to go faster, and soon it was time for him to see Brian.

He walked into Brian's room, hearing the beeping noise of the ECG machine and seeing the readout of the Pulse Ox meter. He didn't understand their purpose, but knew they were monitoring important bodily functions. Brian looked peaceful, and if it weren't for the wires and tubes coming out of his body, Justin would think he was sleeping. His slight snore comforted Justin, knowing that this part of Brian was unchanged. He walked up to Brian, caressing his arm, telling him a few short tidbits about his day and putting Chap Stick on his lips. His fifteen minutes passed quickly and he touched their foreheads together and said, "Later."

_____________________________________________________________
He developed a routine of sorts over the next week. Talk to Brian, draw, pace, walk down to the gas station for a snack or cigarettes, and eat.

Justin had kept Lindsay and Melanie informed, and they had told the rest of the family. Everyone showed up at least once a day for a few hours, and Justin was forced to give up some of his visiting time, as still only two visitors were allowed in the room.

Justin had been keeping his vigil for ten days. He was getting ready to leave Brian's room, having said his ritual goodbye- touching Brian's forehead with his own and saying, "Later."- when Brian's eyes fluttered open.

"Jus...n," Brian mumbled, but then his eyes closed again.

"Brian! Brian!" Justin exclaimed. "Nurse, he said my name," Justin yelled as he ran to the nurse's station.

The nurse followed Justin into Brian's room and took his vitals again. "It sounds like he could be waking up. We'll watch for further signs of consciousness."

For the first time since his arrival, he was hopeful as he left Brian's room in the ICU. The first thing he did was to go to the lobby.

He scrolled through his phone and he pushed the button.

"Hey Justin. Everything okay?" Daphne anxiously asked.

"He said my name!" Justin almost yelled.

"He's awake. That's wonderful. Did he say anything else?"

"Daph, that only happens in the movies. The doctor told me when he does start waking up, it would be several days before he can be coherent enough to talk," Justin said.

"That's great news. I know you're relieved. I wonder if they'll move him out of intensive care?"

Justin paced in front of the windows that were on the south side of the lobby as he talked. He tried sitting, but soon found himself popping up like a Jack in the Box. "I just hope these next few days go by fast. I really want him to be awake. I have a few choice words for Mr. Kinney."

Daphne shuffled some papers on her desk. "I have to go, but I'll be there around 5:30."

"Okay. See you then."

Justin closed his phone, and then sat in the chair. He had another call to make and he scrolled through the numbers in his phone until he found the correct entry. He dialed.
"Red Cape Comics," Michael said.

"He opened his eyes. He's coming out of his coma," Justin said as he stood up again.

"Great! That's wonderful! Now that he's okay, you can go back to New York."

Justin stopped his pacing and took a few deep breaths. "I'm not going anywhere. Brian needs me and I'm going to be here until he's well."

"I'm his best friend. You left and went to New York. You hadn't seen him in months," Michael whined.

"I don't need your permission to stay. I'll leave when I decide to, not when you do. Goodbye, Michael." Justin disconnected the phone. He put on his coat and walked outside.

He took a few more deep breaths and started walking to the gas station two blocks away. He really wanted some cigarettes, and he'd run out last night.

"Damn Michael Novotny, and damn you Brian Kinney for making Michael think he ever had a chance with you. Yeah, he's married now and has his Stepford fag family, but he still pines for you. My life would have been so much easier if you had squelched his fantasies years ago. When you really wake up, you are going to tell Michael... What the hell am I doing? I'm talking to a man who just came out of a coma and is in the hospital several blocks away. I'm really losing it. It's just so damn frustrating to see Michael undermine my relationship with Brian. Yes, it's a relationship. He won't use those words, but we both know they're true."

Walking up to the counter, he waited behind several other customers.

"Lucky Strikes, please," he requested.

"That'll be $4.00."

Justin handed over his money and the clerk gave him his cigarettes. He lit one as he walked back to the hospital. "I wish I could smoke at the hospital, it would have made the waiting so much easier." Taking a last drag, he put out the butt, and eagerly went up to the ICU.

Daphne came to the hospital that night, as did Lindsay, Melanie, Michael and Debbie. Justin knew the rest of the family would probably show up tomorrow. Since Brian was still in ICU, only two visitors were allowed at a time, and that meant Justin didn't get to see Brian until the last visit for the night.

"Hey, you," Justin said quietly. "I always liked when you said my name since you frequently refer to me as Twat, Little Stalker, or Twink but this afternoon, I don't think I've ever heard more beautiful sounds." Justin looked at the familiar machines with their multitude of wires and tubes hooked up to Brian. "Soon you won't need the Dialysis or the Pulse Ox machines, but I guess they'll keep the ECG machine hooked up for while.

He leaned over Brian, touching his forehead with his own and said, "Later."

Justin and Daphne left for the night, and Justin slept better than he had since returning to Pittsburgh. For the next five days, Justin continued to spend his days at the hospital, and each day Brian had longer periods of consciousness. The nurses documented his increased awareness. His kidney function had improved, so they stopped the dialysis, but kept the shunt in.

Dr. Houston completed his morning visit to Brian and went to the patient waiting area to talk to Justin. "Mr. Taylor, I think we're ready to move Mr. Kinney to the Med/Surg unit. We'll keep the shunt in for a few more days while we continue to monitor his urine output and blood work," Dr. Houston explained. "Dr. Mora will be assigned to his care."

"So, he's going to be okay?" Justin hesitantly asked.

"His kidney function is at eighty five percent and appears to be improving every day."

"But...."

"Mr. Taylor, Mr. Kinney has been in a coma for almost two weeks. He damaged his kidneys and while they're functioning, they're still stressed. In addition, he damaged his leg and he is weak. He will have at least a month, if not more, of rehab," Dr. Houston said as he his pager went off. "I have to go. The nurses will answer any other questions."

"Thank you," Justin said to the back of the retreating doctor and turned toward the nurse's station.

"Excuse me," he said. "Dr. Houston said my friend, Brian, is to be moved to Med/Surg. Will that happen today?"

Picking up Brian's chart, the nurse flipped through the latest notes. "The orders are written. I'll call the Med/Surg unit and make arrangements. His room probably won't be ready for several hours."

"Thank you. I appreciate all you've done for Brian," Justin smiled one of his ‘sunshine smiles'.

"You're welcome," the nurse smiled at Justin, his smile brightening her day.

Three hours later Brian was moved to the Med/Surg floor.

"Brian, I'm so happy that you're going to be okay," Justin spoke softly as the orderlies pushed Brian's bed to the new floor. He walked along the bed, holding Brian's hand. After the nurses set Brian up, Justin sat with him in his room. When visiting hours were over, he gave his now-normal goodbye.

"It's time for me to go," Justin leaned down touching his forehead to Brian's, "Later," he said.

"Later," Brian said back.

Justin picked up his messenger bag and went to the lobby to meet Daphne. She drove up to the familiar circle where patients are dropped off and Justin got in her car.

"Let's go out for a drink," Justin suggested as he threw his messenger bag in the back.

"Sounds good. Did something happen? You're practically lighting the interior of my car," Daphne kidded.

"Brian was moved to a new room. He's no longer in ICU,' Justin informed her.

"That's great! I know you're relieved. Wanna go to Woodys?"

"No. I don't want to run into any of the gang. What about some hetero bar? I just want a quiet night," Justin answered as shook his head no.

"Okay. There's a bar down the street from my apartment where I meet my friends sometimes. It's like Woodys for heteros."

"Sounds good."

They walked in and found a small table. The waitress came up and took their orders, bringing them both back beers.

Daphne swirled her beer in the wet spot on the table, "So, Brian's been moved out of the ICU?"

"Yep. I got to spend two uninterrupted hours with him this afternoon," Justin joked. "Mind you he was doing his rendition of Sleeping Beauty during most of it, but still."

"Sleeping Beauty?" Daphne asked, her eyebrows rose.

Justin took a swig of his beer and placed it on the table. "Yeah. He slept through most of it. I think even moving made him tired," Justin laughed. "I don't think Brian's slept this much since he was a baby."

"Did you guys talk?" Daphne asked.

"No, not really. He said ‘hey' and asked if he'd been moved. We flipped through the channels on the TV mostly. He's staying awake for thirty minutes to an hour these days, but he still hasn't asked what happened."

Daphne frowned. "I thought you said he'd been awake for several days. You haven't talked to him yet?"

"Today was the first day I got to be with him for any length of time. Hard to have a significant conversation in only fifteen minutes. Besides, the fifteen minutes for visiting didn't always coincide with his being awake. He's usually more awake in the morning. I imagine tomorrow he'll probably start the third degree." Justin finished his beer and stretched his body. "You about done? This sounded like a really good idea, but now I want to go home, shower and go to bed."

Daphne nodded and finished her beer. "Sure. I'll drop you off at the apartment. I've got some errands to run and then I'll be home."

___________________________________________

Daphne placed the last of the eggs on a plate and took the pancakes out of the microwave where they had been keeping warm.

She knocked on Justin's door. "Breakfast is ready."

"Go away,' Justin mumbled into the pillow.

"Can't. I've got to get to work and you've got to Brian sit," she yelled through the door.

Justin sat up in bed, dragging his hands over his face and stretching his arms over his head. "I'm coming. Let me brush my teeth; it's been so long since I drank anything with alcohol that it tastes like something died in my mouth." He threw on some clothes and went to the bathroom to take care of business.

"I didn't think you had enough pans to cook this amount of food," Justin grinned as he eyed the breakfast on the table. He got out two plates, silverware, and poured each of them a glass of juice and milk. Sitting down, he motioned for her to join him.

Daphne put a pancake on her plate and poured a little syrup on top. She picked up her fork and knife and cut a section off. "So, now that Brian's awake, what are your plans?"

Justin placed two pancakes, some eggs and two pieces of bacon on his plate. He picked up a knife to butter his pancakes, not stopping his food preparations. "What do you mean? I plan on going to the hospital, just like I have every day since I got here, and help Brian with his recovery. He may be awake, but he's going to have to have Occupational Therapy, Physical Therapy and maybe even Speech Therapy. He's been in bed for almost two weeks and his muscles are really weak." Justin took a fork full of eggs and ate them. "These are good," he commented, somewhat surprised.

"I mean, are you going back to New York? Brian woke up, and the medical decisions are made."

Justin dropped his fork with his piece of pancake on it and glared at Daphne. "You know, I would have thought you would be different. Michael asked me when I was going back to New York, too. I thought you understood!"

"I do understand, Justin. It's just that I hate to see you hurt, and you and I both know that Brian won't be nice when he wakes up."

"Daphne, I know that Brian has a mean streak as big as your apartment, but I also know that it is tempered by his generous nature. No one believes me when I say that, but I know it's true."

"Okay. I don't want to fight with you. I just want to be sure that you know what you're doing." Daphne picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of pancake. She ate several more bites and took a drink of juice, and then put down her fork. "What about your show? I know its coming up, and I know neither you nor Brian would want you to lose that opportunity."

"I'm not sure. I have some time before I really need to worry about it, but you're right - I need to paint." Justin took another bite of eggs before answering. He pushed the plate away from him and stretched. "Strong emotions and upheavals tend to give me a boost when it comes to my painting. I was getting a little stale in New York. I lacked my edge. I can feel it coming back now."

"So Brian's coma was a good thing for your art?" Daphne asked as she brought her plate to the sink.

"It's not like that, Daph! You make it sound like I need bad things to happen for my art to be good." Justin picked up his plate, dumping the remaining food in the trash and then giving the plate to Daphne. "My art comes from in here." Justin put his hand over his heart. "I feel every piece I paint."

Justin looked at the clock and said, "I need to shower so I can get to the hospital. Can you take me on your way to work or do I need to catch the bus?"

"I'll drop you off. Now go, or I'll be late," Daphne said as she pushed him toward the bathroom.

Justin had a bounce to his step. He never thought he would look forward to going into a hospital, but after the last two weeks, he finally didn't dread walking in. He knew that Brian was going to be okay. He pushed the button for the 5th floor and walked to Brian's room.

He knocked out of politeness, but he didn't really expect to be told he couldn't come in. Brian was sitting up in bed and drinking some juice.

"Hey," Justin said as he walked into the room. "I see that you're enjoying real food."

"What the hell happened?"

Justin had dreaded this question and wasn't really sure how he wanted to answer it. "You're in the hospital," he said, deciding to keep it simple. He knew there was a lot of time to address the other shit later.

"I know that," Brian said as he glared at Justin. "Tell me why I'm here."

"Oh that." Justin walked over to the window and opened the blinds to let the sun in. "It's a beautiful day, sunny but a little cold."

"I don't fucking care about the weather, Justin! Just answer the damn question," Brian yelled, using up most of his reserves.

"You were in a coma," Justin said as he kept all the particulars absent from the answer.

"What the fuck? A coma..." Brian leaned back against his pillows and was silent.

Justin turned toward Brian and saw that he had closed his eyes again.

That went well. I can't wait to tell him how he got in the coma. That should be really fun.

Brian slept for the next several hours, so Justin took out his sketch pad and did the most natural thing in the world. He sketched Brian. He sketched the face without the shunt in his neck; otherwise, Brian was unscathed from his ordeal. He still had his beautiful brown hair and the most gorgeous facial bone structure.

Justin had been sitting for an hour and needed to stretch. He left his sketch book on the chair and walked into the hallway. He walked the length of the hallway several times and used the bathroom. Even though Brian was awake, he still wanted to ask the medical staff about his progress; therefore, he stopped at the nurses' station to check on Brian's condition.

"I'm Justin Taylor. Can you tell me how Brian Kinney in room 514 is doing?"

The nurse picked up his chart and said, "He's doing well. His urine output is normal and all his blood work is satisfactory. His stitches appear to be healing as well."

"Thank you," Justin said as he started to walk away, but then turned back to the nurse. "Stitches. What stitches? I wasn't aware that he had any stitches."

The nurse reviewed the chart again. "He had stitches in his leg. They should be coming out tomorrow."

"Why did he have stitches?" Justin asked as he tried to remember if the doctor had said anything about stitches.

"You'll have to ask his doctor. I think he's already seen Mr. Kinney. Maybe you can talk to him tomorrow."

"Thank you," Justin said as he walked back toward Brian's room. If he has stitches, that means they are somewhere not very visible. Brian is going to shit. I hope that they will be well hidden. I can't imagine the Stud of Liberty Avenue with a scar in a strategic place.

Justin returned to Brian's room and picked up his sketch pad. About an hour later, the dietary department came with a tray for Brian. Justin eyed the dishes. There was Jell-O, clear broth, and dry toast. At least he would eat the dry toast. I can't imagine Brian putting any of the other food in his mouth. He's lost so much weight. I guess I'll really have to work on getting him to eat. He needs his strength to get better. If they feed him this shit, he'll never get well.

Brian woke up a few minutes after the food arrived.

"Hey, you're awake," Justin said as he smiled at Brian.

"I knew you were smart. Is that my lunch? Or should I say, is that what passes for food in this place?"

"Yeah. It's your lunch. You need to eat so you can regain your strength," Justin urged as he pushed the rolling table closer to Brian's bed.

"Stop treating me like a child. I know what I need to do," Brian said. "Go home, Justin. I don't need you here."

"You're not a child and I'm not going home. I want to help you."

"I don't need your help," Brian said as he tried to sit up.

Ignoring Brian's little tirade, Justin went to Brian's bed and helped arrange Brian's pillows so he could eat. He didn't comment on Brian's statement.

Brian ate a few bites of toast and a few spoonfuls of broth.

"This smells like your gym shoes. Get it away from me." Brian tried to push the table away, but barely had the strength to move it more than two inches.

Justin moved the cart away from the bed. "Can I get you anything?"

"Some real food. That stuff will kill me."

"I'll see what the nurses say you can eat." Justin went to the nurse's station. "Excuse me, my friend, Brian doesn't like his lunch. Is there something else he can eat?"

The nurse smiled at Justin and picked up Brian's chart. "It says a liquid diet. You can give him some white soda like Ginger ale or Sprite. He can have Jell-O, clear soup, and ice chips. We may have some popsicles. If he doesn't have any problems with those, he can try soft foods tomorrow."

"I'll get him a soda." Justin went to the soda machine and bought Brian some Ginger Ale. He brought it back to the room, but found Brian sleeping again.

He placed the soda can in the wash basin along with some ice from the pitcher. He hoped that it would keep the soda somewhat cool.

He watched Brian sleep. He felt his body relax, knowing it was temporary and that Brian would soon wake up. He picked up his sketch pad, drawing his lover as he slept peacefully.

When Brian woke up, it was dark outside. "You're still here? What time is it?"

Justin walked to the bed, picking up Brian's hand and placing it in his own. Giving the hand a squeeze, Justin bent down and kissed Brian on the cheek.

"Yeah, still here. Told you I wasn't going anywhere. It's about 9:00. I have to leave soon as visiting hours are almost over, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Who the fuck said I wanted you here?" Brian croaked out.

Justin poured some water for Brian and he drank it quickly. "Don't you have better things to do then to sit in this stupid hospital all day?"

"You don't get to decide this time. I'm staying. And, no I don't have better things to do."

Brian took his hand back and sighed. "I'm hungry. Go get me something to eat."

Justin found the soda he placed in the tub earlier and opened it. "Drink this. They said you could have only a liquid diet today."

Brian took the soda and drank about half of it. "I'm going to get fat drinking this sugary crap."

Justin ignored the comment and began packing his art supplies. "Good night, Brian. I love you." He leaned over to touch his forehead to Brian's, but Brian leaned out of his way so Justin touched Brian's pillow instead. Sadly, Justin slung his messenger bag on his shoulder and walked out of Brian's room.

Justin retrieved his cell and called Daphne, hoping she was home.

"Justin," she answered. "I'm almost to the hospital. I thought you'd be about ready to go home."

"I love you, Daphne. I was so not looking forward to riding the bus tonight. Brian may be awake, but he's being an asshole," Justin said as he pushed the elevator button to go to the lobby.

"I'll be there in about ten minutes. Wait in the lobby and I'll drive up," Daphne said as she maneuvered her way through the light traffic.

"Good. I'll be waiting," Justin said as he walked out of the elevator and shut his phone. He took a seat by the door so he could watch for Daphne's car. A few minutes later, her car drove up to the patient loading area and he got in it.

"Thanks, I'm exhausted," Justin said as he placed his bag on the back seat. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, dozing off as Daphne drove them home.

When they arrived home, Justin woke up. "Sorry. I guess I'm exhausted. I never appreciated what my mother went through after the bashing. Not only did she spend a lot of her day at the hospital, but she also took care of Molly." Justin gathered his messenger bag from the back seat and brought it into the house. "I'm going to bed. They're supposed to get him out of bed tomorrow. Let him sit in a chair and maybe stand for a few minutes. I want to be there when he gets up."

"Good night, Justin. It's Saturday, so I don't have to work. I can stay with you at the hospital if you want." Daphne hung her keys up on the hook by the door, took off her coat, draped it on the chair, and yawned. "I guess I'll go to bed, too. It's been a long week."

The next morning, they ate a quick breakfast, getting an early start on the drive. Daphne made her way onto the highway and matched her car's speed with the other cars. "So how is Brian? Have you told him what happened?"

Justin fiddled with the radio, turning the volume down before answering. "He's in a really bad mood. He doesn't like the food, keeps telling me to leave and having a conversation with someone who can only stay awake for fifteen minutes at a time is difficult."

Daphne didn't like the song on the radio and she pushed a different button for another station. Pulling down her visor, she handed Justin a CD. "Put that in. I don't know why you insist on listening to the radio. There's nothing but crap on."

Justin put the CD on and The Fray played loudly.

"Still think you want to stay here? If he's like that again today, it will be even harder than normal."

Justin laughed. "Normal. What the hell is normal for Brian Kinney? Brian never wants anyone to do anything for him, and he always wants to tell me what I should do. He thinks he knows best. Well this time, he doesn't get to tell me what to do." Justin watched the snow fall on the road as they drove.

"Your show's in two weeks. Don't you have to go back?"

"Yeah, I do, but only for the night. I talked to my mom, and she said she'd buy me the ticket. I could leave right after lunch, and be back the next morning."

"Are you sure? Do you really want to put your life on hold like that?'

Justin turned toward Daphne and said, "I've done a lot of thinking these past few weeks and I've made a decision. I can paint anywhere, but Brian is here, and I need to be with him. I can go to New York a few times a month to talk to galleries, but I don't want to live there anymore."

"Okay, but what if Brian doesn't want you here?" Daphne asked as she played devil's advocate. "He told you to go away," she reminded him.

Justin frowned at her logic. "True, but he left me as his Power of Attorney and Medical Proxy. I've been gone almost a year and half. I've got an agent, and my work is selling. I've done the New York thing, now I need to return to my life and Brian."

Daphne sighed. "You're still the romantic, but Brian's a hard sell."

"I know, but I wrote the Brian Kinney operating manual, and this is just a new chapter in the book."

Daphne signaled to get off the highway. She followed the signs to the hospital and parked the car in the parking garage. She unbuckled her seatbelt and watched Justin do the same.

"Justin, I don't want to see you hurt. Can't we talk a little longer before you go up?"

Justin looked at his watch and shook his head. "Not now, Daph. The nurses told me they would be getting him up after breakfast and that should be any time now. We'll talk later. Are you staying or will you be back?"

Daphne sighed. "I'll be back in a few hours - I have some errands to run. Will you promise that we'll talk then?" she asked as she grabbed his hands and placed them in her own.

"Okay. We'll talk later, but I'm not promising it will be here. It depends on how Brian is doing."

Justin pushed the button for the 5th floor and walked to room 514. He knocked and went in. Brian was just finishing his breakfast.

"Hey," Justin said as he sat down.

Brian pushed the cart away. "At least this morning, I got eggs. I can't wait to have some real food."

"How are you feeling?" Justin asked, trying to judge Brian's mood.

"How do you think I feel? I've got this tube sticking out of my neck and a tube in my dick. I haven't had a shower in ...what day is it again? And I can't stay awake more than two hours at a time," Brian grumbled.

Justin didn't know how to answer him, so he didn't.

The nurse came in, smiling at Justin and Brian. "Good morning, Mr. Kinney. Ready to get up? I'm going to help you sit in this chair."

"When do I lose the tubes? This one in my dick is not conducive to great sex."

"Your kidneys appear to be working well. Your doctor will be in to see you shortly and you can ask him." The nurse went over to Brian and helped him to swing his legs over the side of the bed. She placed his arms around her neck and pivoted him to the chair. "I'll be back in about half an hour to help you back into bed."

Justin looked carefully at Brian. Even sick, Brian still looked beautiful to him. His eyes traveled down his body toward his cock, and to his legs. His mouth dropped open when he saw the black sutures that lined Brian's entire left leg.

"What?' Brian asked. "What the fuck are you staring at?" Brian asked, and then looked down at his own body. "Shit! What the hell happened to my leg?" Brian said as he moved his hand to touch the stitches. "They go all the way up to my cock. Did you know anything about this, Justin?"

"No. The nurse mentioned stitches yesterday, but she said I had to talk to the doctor. Holy shit, Brian. They go all the way down your leg," Justin said as he stood up to examine Brian.

"Get the fuck away from me. I'm not on display," Brian said as he attempted to push Justin away.

Justin hurried back to his chair. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry's bullshit. Wait till I talk to that doctor. I'll have his balls for doing this to me!"

Justin just sat there and didn't say a word. A few minutes later the doctor came in to check on Brian.

"Good to see you awake, Mr. Kinney. I see your urine output has returned to normal. As long as you continue to do well today, we'll take the shunt out tomorrow," Dr. Mora said as he examined the notes in the chart. "Looks like your stitches are healing well too. They should come out in a few days as well," the doctor said as he pulled off the gloves he had put on to examine the sutures.

"What about the tube in my dick?"

Looking at the chart notes again, he said, "When we take out the shunt in your neck, we'll take the catheter out of your penis."

The doctor started to leave, but Justin asked, "Dr. Mora, why does Brian have stitches? He was in a coma, and I didn't think that it had anything to do with his leg."

"Mr. Kinney was apparently unconscious for several days before he was found. He was on his side, his leg awkwardly positioned, which combined with blood pooling and impaired circulation to create some serious blood clots. When he came in, the leg was in peril, and we needed to open the vessels to increase the blood flow. Once the flow had been restored, we stitched his leg back up. This all occurred before your arrival, Mr. Taylor."

"Thank you, Doctor. When do you think Brian can be released?"

"I can't really answer that question. Every day he will get stronger, but we won't send him home until he can care for himself. So before he can go home, he'll need to go to rehab in order to build up his strength. Two weeks of being in bed can really make you weak."

"I see. Can the rehab be done at home?

"The initial treatment planning needs to be completed in the hospital, but when he is more independent, he can go home."

The doctor left the room. Justin didn't say anything. For once, he was going to take Brian's advice and shut up. The nurse came in a few minutes later and assisted Brian back in bed.

"We'll get you up again in two to three hours. You have to build up your strength. Do you need anything?"

"To get out of this shit hole."

"I'm sorry. He's not usually this rude," Justin apologized to the nurse.

"I'm used to it. Most of my patients are in pain and don't want to be here."

Brian fell asleep after returning to bed. Justin watched him sleep as he thought about the doctor's speech. Brian would need therapy, just like he did when he was bashed. He hoped that Brian wouldn't have the problems that he'd had when he got out of the hospital. He didn't know if he was strong enough to help Brian. He'd be leaving in two weeks to go to his show, but he really needed to go back to New York before then to talk to his agent, and take care of his studio and his apartment. Then he'd have to find studio space and an apartment here. He hadn't really thought through all the ramifications of moving back to Pittsburgh. What if he was wrong and Brian really didn't want him here? No, he told himself, Brian hadn't changed his Medical Proxy; Brian still wanted him here.


^^^^^
"So you woke up? Good for you?" Vic said as he stood in front of Brian's bed, wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

"You said I wasn't dead. So why are you still here?" Brian asked as he glanced down at his body in the hospital room.

"No, you're not dead, but you sure screwed up. You drugged yourself into a coma and messed up your leg, your kidneys ... even your neck's going to be scarred," Vic said as he walked around the bed, examining Brian's body. "What were you thinking, Brian? That little twink over there loves you. Were you missing him that badly?"

"No," Brian answered too quickly.

"I know better. Can't lie to me, Brian. Did too many drugs to ease the pain and now you got more pain coming your way than you ever bargained for. Ironic, isn't it. You couldn't tell him you missed him, so you almost killed yourself to get him to come home. You need to grow up and accept your feelings."

Brian squirmed. "Vic," he said, but Vic had disappeared again. Brian slept a little longer and woke up feeling more confused and unsettled than before.
^^^^^

Justin watched Brian sleep for awhile, and then he got his sketch book; once again drawing Brian, something he never got tired of doing.

"Twat," Brian croaked as he woke up again. "Come here."

Justin put down his sketch pad and walked over to Brian. He motioned to take Brian's hand and Brian obliged. "What the fuck happened?"

"You were in a coma," Justin said.

"I know that. Tell me how I got in this lovely coma," Brian said, the snark coming back.

Justin didn't respond right away. How do I tell him he OD'd on drugs and alcohol and I don't believe for one minute that it was purely accidental? How do I tell him I hear his call for help and I'm here? How do I tell him I love him and I'm coming home? How do I tell him I won't let him fail? How do I tell him...? I don't. He's Brian Kinney and he knows without my speaking the words. I have to show him.

"Well, I wasn't there. The hospital called me when you arrived in the ER."

"Jesus, Justin. Stop walking on damn eggshells and just tell me. I'm not going anywhere, and I need to know," Brian sighed, exasperated with the conversation despite its short length.

He swallowed hard and looked away from Brian's eyes. "You overdosed on drugs and alcohol." A tear ran down his face, and he wiped it away. He hoped Brian didn't see it.

"Your allergies acting up again?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, allergies," Justin said.

"So, I O.D. ‘d. No wonder Vic's been kicking my ass."

Justin gave Brian a curious look. "Vic?" Justin asked as he looked into Brian's eyes, trying to make sure he was really awake and still not sleeping.

"I guess I've been dreaming about the old queen. He's ripped me a new one, too."

"Oh," Justin said, encouraging Brian to talk.

"Never mind. Why are you here?"

Justin let go of Brian's hand and walked to the window. He had hoped the inquisition wouldn't start so soon. He really wasn't up to fighting with Brian today.

"You listed me as your emergency contact and Medical Proxy. They called me when you were brought in."

"So I have you to thank for the Frankenstein design on my leg?" Brian said angrily as he pulled the covers off his legs. "Now they might let me be the Freak of Liberty Avenue rather than the Stud of Liberty Avenue!"

"Don't, Brian. Just don't. The scars will fade in time. Besides, most of your conquests are in the back room, and if I remember correctly it's rather dark in there. No one will notice," Justin joked, trying to lighten the mood. Justin pulled up the sheet and looked at the stitches. He gently kissed Brian's knee, staying away from any of the angry red and black lines. "I think you are still beautiful."

Brian rolls his eyes. "So if I'm no longer critical, you can go home."

Justin sat down in the chair. "I don't want to go home. You need my help, if for no other reason than to keep the family at bay. Debbie and Michael and Lindsay come here every day. Lindsay just cries and Michael tells me to leave and, well, Debbie yells at the nurses," Justin said as he tried to paint a picture of his daily interactions.

"Okay. You can stay and keep the family away. But, once I get out of here, you leave."

"I'm not talking about it now, Brian. You tried to get rid of me when you had cancer, and it didn't work. It's not going to work this time, but you need your rest. I'm getting some lunch." Justin walked over to the bed and leaned over touching his forehead to Brian's and said, "Later."

Just like he had every time he left Brian's room the last several weeks.


When Justin returned from lunch, he heard voices in Brian's room. He hesitated a few moments before entering, since he still didn't like to interact with the family. As Justin pushed open the door, Brian looked over to him with relief in his face. "You're back, Sunshine. Now, do your job and tell Mikey to leave," Brian demanded half serious, and half in jest.

Michael looked at Brian and then back at Justin. "Briannnnn," Mikey whined. "What does he need to be here for? I'm your best friend and you two aren't together anymore. He just came since the doctors say he has something called a Medical Proxy."

Justin walked in the room and closed the door, hoping to keep the noise down and not disturb other patients. "Michael, as I have been telling you for the last two and half weeks, I'm here because I want to be here. Brian kept me as his Medical Proxy for a reason and that reason does not involve you." Justin walked over to Brian and kissed him on the lips. "If you're going to complain every time you visit, then I will have to insist you be taken off the visitor's list."

"Brian, I..."

"Shut up, Michael. I don't need to hear you two go at it. I need my rest." Brian lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes, effectively shutting out Michael.

"Justin, can you tell the nurse I'm ready to get up again. By the time he comes back, I want you gone, Michael," Brian said as he waved Justin out the door.

Michael crossed his arms and said, "Fine, I'll leave. But this isn't over." Michael stomped out the door.

Justin returned with the nurse, who assisted Brian out of the bed. After the nurse helped him into the chair, she left to see other patients.

Brian looked at Justin, grinning at his cleverness. "I think you make an excellent gate keeper. Maybe I should hire you to guard the front desk at Kinnetik." Suddenly Brian's face went white.

"Brian, Brian, Are you okay? Do I need to call the nurse?" Justin frantically was touching him for a response.

"I'm fine, Justin. Mentioning Kinnetik did it. I assume you have kept Cynthia and Theodore apprised of my condition. Kinnetik is still standing, isn't it? I need to talk to Cynthia. Do you have your cell phone? I'll call now," Brian urgently demanded.
Justin took a few short breaths, calming his racing heart. He returned to his chair. "Of course, I've informed Ted and Cynthia. Ted's been up a few times, and so has Cynthia. She's your friend, not just an employee." Justin dug in his messenger bag for some papers. "I've been making notes from her daily calls. She said I didn't need to, but I insisted on keeping up with the business for you." He showed Brian the notebook, but didn't give it to him. "You can see it tomorrow when you're not tired and can think clearly. It's Saturday and nothing earth shattering will happen before Monday. We can call her tomorrow." He placed the book back in his bag, placing it out of reach of Brian.

"Okay. So, how's the hospital cafeteria. The food in my room is for shit, but you don't seem any worse for wear," Brian looked at Justin, eyeing him from head to toe.

"The food is tolerable. What's really a bitch is that I can't smoke in the building, and they don't even sell cigarettes here! I have to walk two blocks to buy smokes and it's freezing out there," Justin used his mini drama queen voice.

Brian laughed for the first time, and Justin smiled when he heard the sound. ‘It's good to hear you laugh and see you smile. I've missed that."

A few minutes later, the nurse returned and assisted Brian back into bed. Brian was exhausted and closed his eyes, sleeping for several hours. While Brian slept, Daphne returned to the hospital, and Justin went out to the waiting area so they wouldn't disturb Brian.

"Get your errands done?"

"Yeah. How is he today?"

Justin reached out to hold Daphne's hands in his. "We talked and I told him he O.D. ‘ed. We also found out he had hundreds of stitches all the way up and around his leg. Seems he fell on it, and laying on it for 48 hours caused some blood clots. He sort of looks like Frankenstein, but I didn't tell him that," Justin laughed at his statement. "Michael came by and Brian kicked him out. That was pretty cool. Overall, it's been a good day."


"Justin, I know you love him, but is it enough?" Daphne asked as she squeezed his hands.

"Yes. I think this time it is. I've grown up a lot in New York. I know what I want, and I want Brian Kinney."

"But what if he doesn't want Justin Taylor?"

"I think he does, Daph, but if he doesn't really want me here, then I'll leave. I owe it to myself to try. He did ask me to marry him once- that should count for something." Justin stood up and walked to the soda machine. Daphne followed him.

He put money into the machine and pushed the button for a Pepsi. "Want anything?" he asked Daphne.

"No, thanks."

Justin returned to the waiting area, and motioned for Daphne to sit. "He always pushed me away because he thought he knew best. This time, it's my turn. I'm painting and I'm doing what I want to do. I can do it here with him as my inspiration or I can do it in New York with my heart in pieces. I'd rather do it here." Justin opened the soda and drank half the can. He passed it to Daphne, who took a few sips, and then passed it back to him.

"I hope you're right," Daphne said as she stood up to leave. "Gotta go. I promised my mom that I would help her paint my old room. I'll be back about 8:00."

"Thanks, Daphne. See you later."

Justin returned to Brian's room just as Brian was waking up.

"I hate that. Falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. I don't want to talk anymore, Justin. Anything on the TV?"

Brian flipped through the channels, and they found an old Black and White James Dean movie on AMC. Brian quoted some of the lines, but mostly just watched the movie. Dinner was brought in and Brian ate about half the soup, all the toast and some Jell-O.

"The nurses say you've been improving every day. Tomorrow you can have whatever you want. Want me to bring you some Lemon Bars and a turkey sandwich from the diner?"

"Sounds good. I'm not sharing, so be sure to bring enough for yourself. I haven't had a decent meal in a long time," Brian said as he pushed himself up on the pillows. Justin moved the dinner tray away from the bed, and then watched the end of the movie with Brian.

"Daphne's going to pick me up soon, so I've got to go down and wait for her. Anything else you want me to bring tomorrow?"

"Bring me my mail. I may have to have you take care of a few things."

"But Brian, I'm not you. I don't have access to your accounts," Justin said as he packed his bag.

"Wrong, twat. You do. When we were going to get married, I made you my Medical Proxy and Power of Attorney, and I put your name on all my accounts. You have access to whatever you need."

"But, I never knew. Why didn't you tell me?" Justin asked as he looked at Brian.

"I was going to tell you, but then things changed, and then you left town, and well I'm telling you now," Brian said in one fast sentence. "It's not a big deal. I know you're not going to steal from me or anything. It's just for something like now."

"Does anyone else know this?" Justin asked, as he envisioned the questions and accusations that would fly when the family found out this little tidbit.

"Ted knows, and Melanie. They needed to know. No one else, and they're sworn to secrecy."

"Okay." Justin walked over to the bed, leaned over and touched his forehead to Brian's saying, "Later."

"Later,"  Brian repeated.

Justin turned around with a huge smile on his face. Placing his messenger bag over his shoulder, he left the room.

He waited only for a few minutes for Daphne to pull up. Tonight, he placed the bag in the back seat and turned up the CD in the player.

"What's up, Justin. You look like you won the lottery," Daphne said as she pulled into traffic.

"Brian told me to bring up his mail so I could help him with his bills." Justin bounced along with the music.

"But you don't have that kind of money, Justin. What was he thinking?" Daphne demanded.

"That's where you're wrong. He told me that he put my name on all his accounts when we were going to get married. He never changed them." Justin smiled one of his ‘Sunshine smiles' as Debbie called them. "He soooo loves me."

"I guess you're right. He must love you to let you have access to all his money."

"I don't care about his money and he knows that. Hell, half the time he yells at me because all my clothes come from the Gap and I take the bus everywhere. He hates my place in New York, and is constantly reminding me about the luxury I should be living in."

"Yeah, you never were really part of the country club set," Daphne giggled as she eyed his cargo pants and blue hoodie. "What do you want to do tonight? It's Saturday night and I don't have to go to work tomorrow."

"Right now, I want to go home and shower. We'll talk after I eat. Hospital food really is as bad as everyone says."

Daphne maneuvered her car through the streets of Pittsburgh and they sang along with the CD as she drove. When they got home, Justin went straight to the bathroom for a shower, and Daphne put away her purchases from earlier in the day.

When Justin finished his shower Daphne took one. Justin went into the kitchen, looking through the cabinets for dinner ingredients. He found some noodles and a jar of spaghetti sauce as well as a package of ground beef in the freezer. He defrosted the beef and added some spices to the pre-made sauce. He cooked the noodles and was draining them when Daphne came out of her bedroom with a towel wrapped around her head.

"So, what you making?" She asked as she took out the plates to set the table.

"Spaghetti. It's easy and you had the ingredients handy." Justin placed the noodles in a big bowl and then stirred the sauce.

Daphne went over to the stove, lifting the spoon out of the pot to take a taste. "Its good," she said as she took another taste.

Justin moved her out of the way as he mixed the sauce with the noodles and beef. "Glad you like it. Poor starving artists have to know how to cook to stay alive in expensive New York." He brought the bowl to the table. "You ready? I'm starving."

Daphne removed the towel, went to the bathroom, brushed her hair, and then returned to the table. "Sure." She sat down and placed some spaghetti on her plate. "Speaking of expensive New York, do you think Brian intended to give you money since he put your name on his accounts?"

Justin put a heaping mound of spaghetti on his plate. He picked up his fork, twirled it around the noodles, and plopped the food in his mouth. He didn't answer her until he had three more forkfuls of the spaghetti.

"Brian is Brian and he does what he wants to do. He offered to help pay some of my expenses when I first went to New York, but since we haven't really talked since this summer, he obviously hasn't said anything about it lately." Justin took a drink of his beer and ate another forkful of spaghetti. "Besides, I wouldn't have accepted his money. I needed to do New York on my own terms."

"Why do you think he put your name on the accounts?" Daphne said, and then ate another bite of spaghetti.

"I told you. We were going to get married so he changed all his accounts."

"But, Justin, you didn't get married. Why is your name still on them?"

Justin wiped his mouth. "Daph, promise you won't tell anyone this?"

"Of course. Who would I tell? Your mother? Michael? Lindsay? Debbie. Come on, dish, Justin."

"The night before I left we talked, or sort of talked for us. I told him we'd still see each other and he said "It's only time." He said it didn't matter if we saw each other next week, next month, or ever again. Daph, I know that is Brian speak for ‘it is only a matter of time until we are together.' Neither one of us knew when we would see each other again, but I think we both knew that at some time in the future we would be back together," Justin said as he smiled at the thought.

"That's it. That's your big secret. Justin, you are such a romantic." Daphne drank some of her beer and picked at the label on the bottle. "Look, I'm sure you're tired of talking and thinking about Brian, let's do something fun tonight." Daphne got out of her chair and turned on the computer. "Let's see what's playing at the movies."

Justin placed the left over spaghetti in a container and cleared the plates. When all remnants of dinner were cleared, he went to stand by Daphne, looking at the computer screen.

"Nothing sounds good. Why don't we go dancing? I haven't been to Babylon in ages," Justin said as he put his hand on his stomach and moved his ass a little to the imaginary music.

"You sure that's a good idea? Don't you think that would bring back some bad memories?" Daphne looked at Justin as he danced.

"Daph, its not like he's gone or we've broken up. He's just not going to be there tonight."

She looked at Justin like he'd lost his mind. "I seem to remember a really pissed off man who sat in this very apartment last summer, saying he never wanted to see Brian Fucking Kinney ever again. I get that he gave you his Medical Proxy and Power of Attorney and that he put your name on his accounts, but you're acting like you two are married, and you're not, Justin. You're not married and if he hadn't overdosed, you wouldn't even be here." Daphne got up and went into her bedroom, closing the door.

Justin stopped dancing, standing in Daphne's living room with his mouth open. He went into the kitchen and filled the sink up with water so he could wash the pots from dinner. As he washed, he replayed the short conversation in his head. She's right. We're not together and this is exactly how I've gotten hurt in the past. In the last few weeks, I've found out some things that I don't think Brian was ready to let me know. I've got to be careful or we'll be back where we were in July.

Justin dried his hands on the dish towel that hung on the oven. He went to Daphne's door, knocking quietly. "Can I come in?" he asked.

"Sure. It's unlocked."

"I'm sorry, Daphne. My emotions are just on a roller coaster. First Brian's in a coma and I find out I have to make medical decisions that may affect his life, and then I find out that he has my name on his accounts. He's anchored me into his life, and I didn't even know it. What am I going to do?" Justin asked as he lay on her bed, his head hung off the side.

Daphne joined him in his pose on her bed. "You take it one day at a time. Now, do you have Brian's bills, or do you need to go to the loft to get them? Can you get into the loft?"

Justin sat up. "That makes me dizzy. I can get in the loft, and yes, I need to go over there since I don't have his bills, or any of his other stuff. Now that he's awake, maybe he'd like his own shampoo and shaving cream. I could bring it to him." Justin got up, grabbing his messenger bag from his room. He took some paper out and started making a list of things he needed to get from the loft. He looked at his watch. "Shit its 8:30. It will take me two hours to go there and come back. I better leave now." He stood up and started walking to the door.

"Stop right there. I have a perfectly good car and I'm taking you to the loft. You can grab what you need, and then we will go rent Borat."

Justin turned and gave her a hug. "Thanks, Daphne. You're the best."

She smiled and punched him lightly on the upper arm. "That's what best friends are for."
__________________________________________________


Daphne and Justin drove in silence to the loft. After fishing out his key, they rode the elevator and he punched in the code so they could enter Brian's home. Justin stopped dead in his tracks as he pulled open the heavy door. He stepped back in time as if nothing had changed.

He saw Brian sitting at the computer, surfing for porn. He saw Brian coming out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, still slightly damp from the shower. Another vision of Brian grabbing a bottle of water from the stainless steel refrigerator where only poppers and left overs were kept, and a final vision of Brian lying in the bed, bathed with the glow of the neon blue light.

"You okay?" Daphne asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah." Justin shrugged. "Just... it's been eight months since I was here and it seems like yesterday. I see Brian coming out of every corner. It's weird, to say the least." Justin walked around the loft, touching the coffee table and then the island between the kitchen and the living room. "The cleaning lady must have cleaned after she called the ambulance. Nothing's out of place." Justin shivered. "She must have really freaked out when she saw him there and couldn't wake him up."

Justin lay on the floor, "I've fallen and I can't get up," he mimicked and then burst out into nervous laughter.

Daphne giggled. "Justin, you're terrible."

"I know, but I could so see Brian doing that. Can't you?"

"Yeah, I can. Where is his mail delivered?"

"Shit. I forgot. It's in the mail box and I bet its overflowing." Justin went downstairs and emptied the overstuffed mailbox. At the top of the pile was a note indicating the super had been given the remainder of the mail. He knocked on the door of the super.

"Mr. Sonner. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Justin Taylor. Brian's friend. I came to get his mail. I guess I should have come earlier," Justin spoke very fast, trying to get the words out.

"Yeah, you look familiar. How's Kinney? He sure scared Mrs. O'Connor when she found him on the floor a few weeks ago. He gonna be okay?"

"He's better. Thanks for asking. Do you have the mail? It's late and I'm sure you'd like to get back to your evening."

"Yeah. It's right here. He sure gets a lot of magazines. Can't see how he has the time to read em all," Mr. Sonner said as he handed Justin a large pile of mail. "You gonna be getting his mail or should I still collect it?'

Justin looked up from glancing at the mail. "Ohh, Umm. Could you still collect it for him? I'm not sure how often I'll get by here."

"Sure thing. See you, and tell Kinney I hope he gets better."

"Thanks," Justin said as he shook the man's hand and returned to the loft.

Justin opened the heavy door and laid the pile on the table.

"Geez. He gets more magazines than me!" Daphne exclaimed from her seat on the white leather sofa. "I don't know how he has time to read them with the hours he works and the partying he does at Babylon."

"That's what Mr. Sonner said. How do you know about the hours he works and the trips to Babylon, Daphne? Are you holding out on me?" Justin frowned as he looked at Daphne. He walked over to the couch, sitting down next to her.

"I used to run into him on Liberty Avenue some times. He'd ask how you were."

"You shit. How come you never told me?" Justin demanded.

"It never came up. I know you were really hurt after what went down last summer and I didn't want to see you hurt again," Daphne explained.

"Then why the inquisition when I came here to be with him? Daphne Chanders, are you in cahoots with Brian?" Justin picked up the mail and began sorting it.

"No. I'm not in cahoots with him. It's just...."

Justin looked up from his mail sorting. "Just what...?"

"I think you're right. Brian pushed you off another cliff and I could see he was miserable, and so were you." Daphne sat next to Justin and put her arms around him, giving him a half hug. "You guys need to figure this out. You used to call his drinking and drugging 'pain management'. I think he needs to learn a different way to manage his pain, or next time he won't have any pain to manage. He'll be dead."

Justin put down all the mail and turned toward Daphne, giving her a big hug as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Daph, what am I going to do?" he lamented.

Daphne returned his hug and held him while he cried and recomposed himself. "You'll figure it out, Justin. The question is really what are the two of you going to do?" She pulled out of the hug and sat up straight. "Why don't I sort through the mail- magazines in one pile, bills in another and everything else in this pile," she said as she started sorting the six-inch stack of paper. "Why don't you gather his toiletries and anything else he might want?"

"Okay." Justin walked toward the bathroom, turning before he entered. "Thanks Daphne. I owe you so much for all your help."

"Justin.... That's what best friends are for. Now go. I don't want all the copies of Borat to be checked out before we get to the video store."

Justin mock saluted her and went into the bathroom to gather the toiletries. He opened the shower and the smell of Brian hit him.

He saw himself standing in the shower with Brian, facing the tiles while the water cascaded down his back. Brian standing behind him, kissing his neck, between his shoulder blades as he ran his hands down his back. He could feel Brian massaging his ass, then parting his cheeks as he played with his hole. He heard the condom wrapper open and the crinkle of the plastic as Brian took out the latex cover. He could feel Brian's huge cock as it pushed into his hole as he hissed at the intrusion, but then he pushed back to meet Brian. He could feel the sway of their bodies as they met their most primal needs and something else that he couldn't put into words, but that was always there when they were together.

"You about done in there?" Daphne yelled.

Her voice brought Justin out of his memories, shaking his head to clear the vivid vision. "Yeah," he said as he placed the shampoo, soap and $100 tube of eye cream in his arm. "He's a beauty queen, but at least he doesn't have a cabinet full of product like Emmett."

Daphne walked into the bedroom, stopping at the doorway as she watched Justin gather Brian's things.

"Emmett always makes me laugh when I see him giving Ted a beauty treatment. I always wonder where he picks up that stuff." Justin walked into the bedroom and placed the products in Brian's kit. He opened the closet and pulled out a few loose shirts. "He doesn't have a robe or anything like that. We talked about buying him one the last time Gus was here. Brian said Gus was getting too old to see us parade around buck naked," Justin commented off handedly. He lay on Brian's side of the bed, placing his head on Brian's pillow. He closed his eyes as he inhaled Brian's scent. Opening his eyes, he saw a picture frame placed on the night stand.

"Oh my!" He enthused. "He's got a picture of me and Gus by his bed." Justin picked up the picture, and lovingly ran his finger across the outline of them. "Daphne, he really didn't mean those words last summer. You'll see. When this is over..."

Daphne walked to Justin and took the picture frame out of his hand, placing it back on the night stand. "Have you seen Gus? How is he taking Brian's situation?"

"No, I haven't seen him. I told the girls that it probably wouldn't be a good idea since he always associates me with seeing Brian. He's still too young to understand that we're not together." Justin stopped his explanation and sat up, running his hand through his hair. "Maybe, now that Brian's out of ICU, the girls will bring him by. I'd love to see him." Justin folded the few shirts, placing them and Brian's kit into an overnight bag. "There. A few comforts from home. Where's the mail?"

Daphne pointed to the table and the three piles. Justin took the overnight bag, setting it down on the floor next to the coffee table. He picked up the top three magazines- Architectural Digest, Advertising Age and Newsweek. He took the entire stack of bills and glanced through the other mail.

"Most of these are solicitations. I never knew so many places wanted his money. I'm not surprised, but still.... I guess after this experience, Mr. Brian Kinney will not have as many secrets as he used to," Justin said as he smirked.

"Are you done, drama princess?" Daphne teased.

"Yeah, I'm good," Justin said as he looked at the clock on the microwave. "It's only 11:00. We should have plenty of time to pick up Borat and watch it tonight." Justin turned and hugged Daphne. They walked out of the loft as Justin made sure to reset the alarm and lock the door.

They drove back to Daphne's, stopping at the video store, and renting Borat. after their arrival, they popped a big bowl of popcorn and ate it while they watched the movie.

"That was so funny. I can see why it got great reviews," Daphne commented as she took the popcorn bowl to the kitchen to wash.

Justin grabbed their glasses and brought those into the kitchen as well. "Yeah. I'm just glad it wasn't me in bed with the diplomat. That would have freaked me out."

"Yeah," Daphne said with a grimace. "He was seriously gross."

Yawning, Justin stretched and then gave Daphne a kiss on the cheek. "You gonna bring me to the hospital tomorrow, or do I need to catch the bus?"

"Nah, I'll take you. Maybe I'll even pay the esteemed Mr. Kinney a visit. Tell him a few things," Daphne kidded as she washed the popcorn bowl.

"Daphne, please keep it light. I've got enough to deal with." Justin grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank half of it. He picked up the dishcloth to dry the big bowl.

"Justin, it's a joke. I'm not Michael or Debbie. I'll probably pop in to see Brian, but you know I'll behave."

He placed the bowl in its place in the lower cabinet and turned to Daphne. "Yeah, I know. Good night."

"Good night, Justin. I'll see you in the morning," she said as she placed the glasses in the dishwasher and turned out the lights.
_______________________________________________________________________

They woke up a little after 9:00 the next morning, and ate a light breakfast of cereal and milk. The drive to the hospital was quick, since the traffic was light. Daphne parked the car in the garage and Justin grabbed the overnight bag.

"Why don't you go up and see Brian? I want to stop at the gift shop," Daphne said as she grinned an evil smile.

"Why Daphne Chanders, I think you might be thinking of getting Brian a gift."

"Maybe. I think I should get him a cane. That would make him sooo happy," Daphne joked.

"Don't Daphne," Justin said softly. "We can joke, but he's really sensitive right now."

"Justin, I wouldn't do anything like that. I like Brian, most of the time, except when he's treating you like shit. I'll get him something... maybe some chocolate."

"Whatever. I'm going upstairs. This is heavy." Justin carried the overnight bag into the hospital and up to Brian's room. When he was outside the door, he heard voices inside and he waited to enter.

"Brian. I can take care of you. Tell Justin to go home. He doesn't belong here. He's just using you. When are you finally going to get him out of your life for good?" Michael urged Brian.

Justin walked in after he heard Michael's disparaging remarks. He put down the overnight bag and deliberately walked over to Brian, giving him a kiss on the lips. Brian returned the kiss enthusiastically.

"Good morning, Sunshine. Why don't you tell the nurse I'm ready to get up," Brian suggested as he waved Justin out the door.

"Okay. Be right back."

Justin returned a few moments later with the nurse.

"Mikey, I've got to get up. Why don't you come back later?" Brian said as he moved to place his arms around the nurse's neck.

"But Brian...." Michael began to counter.

"Not now, Michael. Justin and I have things to discuss and I need quiet to do them. Go along and I'll see you later."

Justin grinned at Brian's dismissal of Michael. He was feeling better all ready. 

The young blond nurse assisted Brian to the chair and placed a blanket over his legs. She checked his vitals and marked the information in his chart. "I'll be back in an hour. You're improving, and we need to have you out of bed longer today. The physical iherapist will be here to help you walk a little later this morning." She patted Brian on the arm, giving an approving look, and left the room.

"Twat. I see you brought my mail, but I didn't think there'd be that much." Brian waved his hand at the overnight bag. "Bring it over here."

Justin brought the bag, laying it on the bed. "This is your mail. Daphne and I sorted it and I brought you three magazines, your bills, and this pile is all the other mail I thought you might want to read," Justin explained rapidly.

"So Daphne knows my business too. I thought I taught you getter then that," Brian chided him, but the small grin on his face belied his words. "So what else is in there? That thing is too big for just my mail."

Justin reached in the bag. "I brought your shampoo and soap. I'm sure the hospital stuff is rough on your delicate skin," Justin smirked. "And I brought that French anti aging eye cream." He waved the small tube in front of Brian. "You can't be aging in front of the multitude of guests that will be visiting your new court in the hospital." Justin pulled out the shirts. "I thought you'd appreciate some of your own clothing too. I remember the hospital gowns being less then modest," Justin said as a grin appeared on his face. "I'm going to have Daphne take me to the mall later and I can pick you up a robe and some lounge pants. They should be very comfortable. Guess you never got around to buying that robe we talked about," Justin rambled on despite the frown that appeared on Brian's face.

"Stop! You're not my wife and we're not the happy couple here." Brian said emphatically. "Your job is to keep the family at bay and play gatekeeper. Do you understand?"

Justin stepped away from the bed and walked toward the door where Brian couldn't see the moisture in his eyes. "I forgot something in the car. I'll be back." Justin walked out of the room and went to sit in the lounge area.

Daphne found him there twenty minutes later. "What are you doing out here? Are they doing a procedure or something?" Daphne asked as she sat down next to Justin.

"No, they're not doing a procedure; he just said...I feel like I did when I got out of the hospital. One minute I'm all happy and the next I'm almost in tears. How can one person have that much power over me?" Justin answered as he looked at Daphne, peering into the bag she held in her lap.

"Look. I got him a back scratcher. It's shaped like an elephant's head." Daphne pulled the bag out of Justin's hands, showing him her purchase. She looked at Justin, and then placed the elephant back in the bag. "Justin. Give him time. I thought you knew better."

Justin wiped the moisture from his eyes. "I wrote the book on Brian Kinney, but I just forgot the latest chapter- 'How to Deal with the Asshole When He's Hurt' He's not going to win this one, Daphne. We're both going to be winners." He stood up, pulling her from her seat. "Come on. Time for the gatekeeper to do his job."

Daphne hesitantly entered the room. She had not seen Brian, getting all of her updates from Justin. "Hi Brian." She quickly looked at him, but kept her face neutral. "You look good."

Brian looked up from his mail-sorting. "Ahh Daphne. You look beautiful as always. Come to keep Justin company? I'm afraid he'll be busy keeping the vultures away," Brian said, tongue in-cheek.

Daphne laughed. "Oh, I think he could still use my company. I don't see anyone knocking down the hospital doors right now. Besides, he tells me you're going to be busy with physical therapy soon."

"Yeah. They tell me the same thing. I understand the physical therapist is a cute guy. Maybe I can get him to blow me when we're done. What do you think, Sunshine?" Brian kidded.

"If that's what you want," Justin said as he shrugged his shoulders.

The three of them looked at each other, no one volunteering any conversation. The silence grew awkward.

"Look at the time," Daphne said as she looked at her watch. "I promised my mom I would meet her for lunch." Daphne walked over to Brian, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "See you later." Turning to Justin, she said, "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"I don't need a babysitter, Daphne. He can go now," Brian said.

"I'll be ready at 6:00. I'll meet you at our usual place by the circle," Justin said, ignoring Brian's comment. Justin gave Daphne a quick hug, and watched as she left the room.

"Justin. Where's my checkbook? You brought the bills, but where's the checkbook?"

Justin found his messenger bag and pulled out the checkbook. "Good thing I know where you keep that, otherwise I would have looked all over the loft for it. Don't you pay most of your bills on line?"

"I do pay most of my bills on line, but I need the book to write you a check." Brian flipped through the register, looking at the last entry. He held out his hand.

"Oh, yeah. Kind of hard to write a check without a pen." Justin rifled through his messenger bag for five minutes before finding a pen. "Wait... Why do you need to write me a check? You don't owe me any money." Justin looked at Brian in confusion.

"You mentioned buying me a robe and some lounge pants. I know you can't possibly have the funds to purchase a Prada robe, seeing that you are a starving artist," Brian reminded him. "Here. That should cover it." Brian tore out the check and handed it to Justin. "Oh and go buy some groceries for Daphne. I know how much you eat," Brian said as he raised his eyebrows.

Justin took the check, placing it in his wallet. "Thanks. I'll get Daphne to go tonight."

Just then, a tall, striking man knocked on the door.

Brian called out, "Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Jose and I'm your Physical Therapist. I see you've been sitting in your chair. How do you feel?"

"How do you think? I got a tube up my dick, this thing in my neck and ...."

Jose walked to the edge of the bed, glancing at Brian's chart. "You're supposed to have those removed today. I'll come back later this afternoon and we'll take a short walk. You need to start building your strength up." Jose put the chart back and turned towards the door.

"Jose, how long do you think Brian will be here?"

Jose turned around. "He's been in bed for almost two weeks and those stitches are going to pull. I think he'll be here for at least another week, maybe more. Depends on how hard Mr. Kinney works."

"Thanks," Justin said as he sat on the bed. Jose left with a slight wave to the two men. "So what do you need me to do?"

"I need a blow job, but seeing how I have this tube stuck in my dick, I'll have to wait," Brian answered sarcastically.

"Briannn," Justin said. "You had me gather your mail. Is there anything I need to take care of? I still can't believe you put me on your accounts."

"Ah, so I wasn't dreaming that I shared that little tidbit." Brian motioned for Justin to come toward him.

Justin walked over to him and pulled the other chair toward Brian. "You weren't dreaming, but I don't understand why?"

"We were getting married." Brian averted his eyes from Justin, returning to the mail in his lap.

"But we didn't get married, and last summer you said..."

"I say a lot of things," Brian said so softly Justin had to strain to hear the words.

"So... Um .. last summer... Another cliff?"

Brian looked up at Justin and waved him closer to his bed. He reached his arm out to wrap it around Justin's neck but it wouldn't quite go. "Yeah. Another cliff," Brian admitted.

"But why? I'd been gone over a year and I thought we were doing okay," Justin leaned in to Brian, letting his arm reach around his neck.

"It hurt too much. Every time I saw you, it hurt. I didn't want to do that any more."

Justin stood up, wrapping his entire body around Brian. The pose was awkward since Brian couldn't really stand to reciprocate it. They stayed that way for several minutes and then Justin let go, returning to his chair. He looked at Brian, trying to gage his willingness to continue the conversation and decided to chance it.

"And now?" Justin asked.

Brian cocked his head, not saying a word.

Justin paced the small room. "Damn it, Brian! You almost died! You can't keep the pain away with drugs and alcohol!" he shouted. He slammed his hand on the wall in frustration. "This has to stop."

"I know, Justin. That's why you need to leave. I can't do this."

"Oh no you don't, Brian fucking Kinney. I refuse to watch you kill yourself, and I will not be getting another phone call telling me to come to the hospital because you're in the emergency room. We're going to deal with this!" Justin realized he was shouting so moved to close the door.

"I can't!" Brian yelled as he watched Justin pace the floor. "Leave, Justin," Brian urged.

"You can't or you won't?" Justin parroted his words back at Brian. "This time, I'm not leaving. I love you, you son of a bitch, and yes," he paused. "She's a bitch! It hurts because you love me too! You're just too damn stubborn to say the words. Well, I have news for you, Brian, I wrote the manual on Brian Kinney and I'll lay it out for you," Justin's voice returned to a high pitched timbre. He spread his left hand out, palm up while he used his right index finger to touch his other index finger. "One, you will not tell me to leave again. I'm staying until you get out of the hospital and can return to work. At that time, if you still want me gone, I'll think about it." He touched his right index finger to his second finger of the left hand. "Two, I know that actions speak louder than words, especially in Kinneyland. You can't fuck me into the mattress, but you can kiss me and I can read your kisses very well. Non-verbal communication works for us, so use it!" He touched his right index finger to his third finger of his left hand. "Three, you will talk to me- not let me guess. I know Brian Kinney hates to talk, but you know what? We do talk- sometimes a lot. You aren't going anywhere so you can't walk out. We will talk." He touched his right index finger to his left hand and walked over to Brian and kissed him softly on the lips. "Fourth, I love you, so deal with it."

The nurse knocked on the door, and Brian told her to come in.

"Is everything alright Mr. Kinney? It sounded like there was shouting," she asked as she checked his vitals and urine output. "You're doing well. I think we can take out your catheter now." She turned to Justin. "If you'll step outside, I'll let you know when you can come back in."

"It's about time. Peeing through a tube sucks and not in a positive, life-affirming way," Brian snarked.

She helped him back into bed and Justin smiled as he left the room.

The nurse swiftly removed the catheter and put some salve on his urethra. "You'll need to buzz the nurse's station when you want to use the bathroom. We still need to monitor your output, and you can't walk to the bathroom by yourself. Just press this button." She demonstrated which button. "Someone will be down to help you."

"Whatever. Can I go to sleep now? I'm exhausted."

"Certainly. I'll let your friend know." She left the room, finding Justin in the waiting area, looking at an old Newsweek.

"Sir, your friend is resting now. He wanted me to let you know."

"Thanks. I'll bet he's tired and will sleep for awhile. I'm going to the gas station."

"Okay," the nurse responded.

Justin looked at his watch and was amazed to see he'd only been at the hospital for two hours. It seemed like twice that amount of time.

I can't believe I said those things to Brian. Actually, I can believe I said those things. For once, he cannot kick me out or physically throw me out. I hope he got my message.

Justin put on his coat and walked down to the gas station for more cigarettes. He bought a pack and smoked one on the way back to the hospital. His phone rang in the middle of his walk back.

"Hi mom," Justin said as he looked at the caller id.

..."Shit. I forgot about the show."

..."Yeah, I'm still going. My agent has all the work. I talked to him last week. He understands."

..."You're coming? Wow. I don't know what to say."

..."Of course, I want you there. It's just that I didn't think you'd come, since it's a small show."

..."I know you're proud of me, mom."

..."Brian's better. He's out of ICU and in the Med/Surg ward. He's having his first PT today."

..."Yeah, we talked and we'll be talking a lot more. Look mom, I'm almost at the hospital and I don't want to discuss my relationship with Brian with you. I'll come by day after tomorrow to pick up the ticket. Maybe we can go to dinner."

..."I love you, too. Bye mom."

Shit. How could I forget about the show? Brian would kill me if I didn't go. Hell, Brian's probably ready to kill me now. I feel better getting everything off my chest. I wore him down once, I can do it again. Shut up Taylor, it's not a contest. This is the man you love that you're talking about.

Justin put out the cigarette and made his way back up to 514. He peeked in the room, as he didn't want to wake Brian. Brian was still sleeping, so he very quietly walked in the room and sat in the chair, watching Brian for another half an hour until he slowly opened his eyes.

"You're still here," Brian groaned as he sat up in bed.

"Yep, still here. I'm your stalker," Justin laughed as he repeated the familiar phrase. "Is there anything you need or want me to do?"

"How about a blow job? They took out the catheter," Brian half teased.

Justin walked over to the bed, leaning down to kiss Brian. "Jose will be here any minute. I'm not going to get caught with your pants down. Maybe later."

Jose knocked, and came into the room a few moments later. "Mr. Kinney, are you ready to walk a little? I'm sure you'd love the view of the hallway."

"Justin, find me another gown," Brian demanded as he started to sit up further. "I'm not letting the whole world see my ass."

Justin smiled, but refused to take the bait. He looked in the drawer of the dresser and found another gown. "This should do. I'll buy you some pants tonight."

"You better, Twat. There are only a few people who get that view of Brian Kinney," Brian said tongue in cheek.

Jose moved toward the bed and helped Brian stand up, having him hold on to a walker. Brian took a few deep breaths and stood, stopping to get his balance.

"Ready?" the therapist asked.

"Sure. How hard could walking be? I've been doing it since I was one," Brian answered.

Jose got behind him, monitoring Brian's progress and ready to help if needed. Jose saw Brian's muscles tremble. "I think we'll wait for the hall tour until tomorrow. Why don't you head back to bed for now?"

"Gee. I walked a whole 10 feet, Sunshine. At this rate, I'll be old and gray before they let me out of this lovely hospital."

Justin helped put the covers over his shaking legs when he returned to the bed. Justin took a cloth, wet it and wiped the sweat from Brian's brow.

"I'll be back in the morning. You should be stronger then. We'll probably do this twice tomorrow,"

"Oh goody," Brian said snottily and smiled a fake smile. "I get to walk out of my room."

"Thank you. Don't pay any attention to him," Justin said waving his hand at Brian. "He makes a lousy patient. Doesn't like anyone to take care of him."

"It's okay. I'm used to male patients. They're often the worst." Jose left the room.

Brian let out a loud sigh and collapsed onto the pillow. "That was for shit. I can't even walk out of this room!"

"It'll get better. I remember when I was bashed; therapy was a bitch."

"I remember."

"What do you mean? You remember. You weren't there!" Justin glared at Brian.

Brian looked toward the window.

"Shit! You were there. When? How? Why didn't you ever tell me? It would have made such a difference. I always thought..." Justin raised his voice and crossed his arms even though Brian wasn't looking at him.

"I came at night. I talked to the night nurses and they filled me in on your progress."

"But why didn't you come see me when I was awake?" Justin started to walk towards the window, but stopped at the end of the bed.

"Don't go there. I didn't. Let's just move on."

Justin understood that was Brian-speak for 'I'm not explaining myself and I told you something I really didn't want you to know, so be quiet.'

"Want to watch tv? You look tired." Justin picked up the remote and flipped it in his hand.

"Whatever. I'm still waiting for that blowjob."

Justin turned on the tv, and they watched the AMC channel for a few hours. Brian slept off and on, and stared at the television in silence. Justin didn't pay much attention to the television as he was trying to figure out Brian's latest admission. Brian had seen him when he was in the hospital. If only he'd known that, they could have been spared so much pain. The Ethan fiasco and everything after. Why did Brian have to make things so hard?

Brian had been awake for about half an hour and Justin saw the darkness descend on the room. He looked at the clock, realizing he needed to leave. "Brian, I have to meet Daph. I'll pick up the robe and pants and some groceries. I'll be back tomorrow." Justin leaned in to Brian's body, pressed his forehead with Brian's and said, "Later."

Brian repeated the phrase. "Later." He turned up his mouth, but didn't really smile at the familiar line.

Justin grabbed his messenger bag and went to the lobby to meet Daphne.

Daphne arrived right at 6:00pm. "Where to, sir?" she joked as Justin threw his bag in the back seat.

"I need to go the Galleria. I think there's a Saks there."

"Woah. Aren't you taking this a little too seriously, Justin? Just because your name's on Brian's accounts doesn't mean he'll give you carte blanche to go shopping." Daphne turned out of the parking lot, toward the Galleria.

"He gave me a check to buy him a robe and some lounge pants. You should know that I wouldn't go around spending his money on myself. I only spend his money if he's there. I've had his credit card before and I only use it for what I need. He's not my sugar daddy!" Justin turned on the radio, pushing the buttons as he tried to find some good music.

"Sorryyyyy. I know better. To the mall it is. This should be fun, shopping without worrying how much money I have to spend," Daphne grinned as she started singing along with the song on the radio.

Justin and Daphne parked at the mall, going to the men's department of Saks. They picked out a robe, several lounge pants and a new shirt for Justin.

"I thought you weren't going to spend Brian's money?" Daphne teased.

"I'll tell him I bought myself a new shirt to go to Babylon and he has to get out of the hospital so he can see me in it. It's an incentive to get better," Justin explained as he brought the purchases to the counter. Handing the cashier his credit card, he paid for the items. " I better put Brian's check in the bank now or I won't have a way to pay for these," he said as he took the bag with his purchases from the salesclerk.

Justin's stomach growled. "I'm hungry. Let's go to your place and fix some food."

Daphne looked at Justin, concern in her face. "Ah, Justin... About that."

"Oh yeah. I'm supposed to take some of this money and buy you food. Brian told me I eat a lot." Justin grinned. "Guess we'll go to the grocery and stock up and then we'll go home. I can always grab a burger at the drive through to hold me over."

Daphne mock hit Justin in the arm. "Only you can say that grabbing a burger is a snack. I can't imagine what your food bills are like."

"I'm a growing boy," Justin laughed. "Brian always teased me that his food bill was cut by three-quarters when I moved out. And I'll have you know that I haven't gained a pound since I graduated from high school." Justin said as he ran his hand down his abs.

"You sound just like a girl, Justin. Defensive about your food intake."

‘I do not. I'm all man. Ask Brian. On second thought, don't ask Brian. He'll probably tell you more then you want to know."

Daphne laughed. "I agree. I really don't want to know."

The two friends went to the grocery, stocked up on quick and easy foods including spaghetti, pizza, and egg rolls. They also bought cereal, yogurt and a few apples and bananas. They brought the food back to Daphne's, and cooked a pizza for dinner.

"I'm stuffed," Daphne said as she ran her hand over her stomach. "Your show is in a few days. When are you leaving?"

Justin got up from the table to throw the pizza box away. "I'm picking the ticket up day after tomorrow from my mom, and my flight is Thursday after lunch. I have to meet with my agent, Sam, on Friday morning before the show, and I'll fly out Saturday morning." Justin returned to the living room and Daphne followed him as they sat on the couch.

"Have you told Brian?"

"No. He was pretty tired today. The physical therapist got him to walk to the door and back to bed," he explained as a way to justify his actions.

"Justin, you've got to talk to him. There's this big pink elephant in the middle of the room and you guys are pretending it isn't there." Daphe grabbed the remote, but didn't turn on the tv.

"I've got to do this right, Daphne. I told him this morning that we were going to talk and that he couldn't kick me out. Even though he's a captive audience, lecturing Brian is just going to piss him off."

"I guess you're right. I just hate to see things so unsettled." Daphne flipped the remote over in her hands.

"They're not unsettled. Brian's awake, and he did admit that he tried to push me away because he couldn't handle the absences. That's huge for him. I've got time, and I just have to hope Michael and Lindsay don't sabotage us this time." Justin went to the refrigerator for a beer and brought one back for Daphne. He popped the top and took a long drink. "It's like they want Brian to be happy, but they don't think he can be happy if he changes."

Daphne took the other beer and popped the top on it. She grabbed two coasters from the side table, placing them on the coffee table in front of them. "That's a load of crap. It's Brian's life."

"I know, but Michael wants Brian to always be 'Brian Fucking Kinney, Stud of Liberty Avenue.' He doesn't want him to change and possibly be in a long-term relationship. Brian's even told me that Michael feels Brian's place should be the back room, getting his cock sucked."

Putting her beer down on the coaster, Daphne turned toward Justin. "Where does Lindsay come in?"

"Even though Lindsay's a lesbian, she still has strong feelings for Brian. That's why Melanie hates Brian so much. Lindsay still has fantasies of this happy little family of Brian, Gus and herself. She told Brian about the article in the Art Forum. I think she hoped that if I went to New York, Brian would forget about me and she could return to her dream world.'

"Cunt. I can't believe I never knew that about Lindsay," Daphne said.

"I sort of understand her, though. Brian has a lot of money and leads a great life. She wants Gus to have all the advantages. Hell, he gives her a ton of money for Gus."

"I didn't know that," Daphne remarked.

"Don't say anything. No one knows but me and Melanie."

"Duh," Daphne said as she mock punched him on the arm.

"Anyway, he loves her in his own way, just not in a romantic way. She may be a lesbian, but part of her wouldn't mind being Brian's wife," Justin sighed as he related the secrets of Brian's two ‘best friends'. "I don't know why I told you all this. It's really between Brian, Lindsay and Michael." Justin shrugged and frowned at his lapse in judgment.

"Don't be sorry. We're best friends and I would tell you the same thing. You need someone to talk to, and I know there's no one in that mixed up group that you could talk to." Daphne stood, going into the kitchen and opening the freezer. "Hey, want some Rocky Road? Ice cream always makes me feel better."

Justin smiled. "Sure, Sounds good. Thanks Daph."

"No problem," she said as she dished the ice cream into two bowls. "We should watch some music videos. I always like to watch the dance routines and see if I can memorize the moves," Daphne said as she picked up the remote and found MTV. They watched MTV and danced with each other until they were both ready for bed.

Justin looked at his watch, "I'm going to shower and go to bed. I stink. Thanks for the distraction," Justin said as he grabbed a towel from the linen closet. "I guess we need to do laundry in the morning. Can't have you running out of towels and I need clean clothes for the trip. I'm sure Brian won't mind if I get there a little later in the day."

Daphne looked in the linen closet. "Yeah, I've only got two clean towels. Got any quarters?"

"A few, but don't they have a change machine?"

"Yeah, but it's usually broken. We can go to the dollar store around the corner. They're pretty good about giving me change. See you in the morning."

Justin showered and went to bed. Daphne stayed up a while, flipping through the channels and then went to bed. They got up in the morning, did laundry, and then Daphne drove Justin to the hospital.

"Same time today? " Daphne asked.

"Make it 7:00, since I got here so late."

"Okay. See you then."

Justin went up to Brian's room, knocking before he entered. No answer came so he walked in to find an empty room. He put down his messenger bag, returning to the nurses station.

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find Brian Kinney. He's in room 514."

"He's with the Physical Therapist. The therapy room is around the corner," the nurse said as she pointed to the right.

"Thanks," Justin said and walked toward the therapy room.

Justin entered the room and saw Brian using his walker. Jose stood behind Brian so he wouldn't fall. Brian tentatively walked about a dozen steps and then leaned back on the seat of the walker.

"Good, Brian. Take a rest and then we'll walk back to your chair," Jose said.

"Shit, twelve steps won't get me very far. I need to do more," Brian insisted.

"You can't overdo it. You've been in bed for almost two weeks. You've got to let your body build up some strength," Jose reminded him.

"Nothing wrong with being in bed for two weeks. I just would have liked to have been awake, and fucking the whole time," Brian joked.

Justin laughed at Brian's little speech and Brian turned his head. "Sunshine, what are you doing here? Come to laugh at the cripple?"

Justin walked over to Brian. "Briannn. I'm not laughing at you, just at what you said. I bet you would love to be in bed for a solid two weeks." He leaned down and whispered in Brian's ear. "If you're really good, I bet I can arrange for you to spend two weeks in bed fucking."

"Yeah?" Brian grinned.

"Could be. Now finish your therapy. I think I saw the vultures getting off the elevator as I walked down here." Justin returned to the outer area of the room and watched Brian walk back to his chair.

"Are you done torturing me?" Brian asked.

"Yes, but you still need some stretching. I'm going to help you lay down on this mat while I do some range of motion. I don't want your limbs to get too stiff, and since you aren't up to walking long distances yet, we need to make sure your legs don't lock up." Jose helped Brian lay on a mat table. He waved Justin over to the table. "I can show you how to do this, and you can do these exercises several times a day if Brian will let you."

Justin looked at Brian. "Is that okay?"

"Sure. I know you can't keep your hands off me."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Show me what to do."

Jose demonstrated the exercises to Justin, and watched as Justin performed each movement. "He can't really be hurt by doing this too much. He may complain, but that just means that his legs are tight. You're helping him heal, so don't worry about it," Jose assured Justin. Jose assisted Brian back to his chair. "We're all done. I'll see you this afternoon."

"Shit, you mean I have to do this again?"

"You need to get strong. We'll be doing therapy twice a day."

"Gee, I'm looking so forward to this. Justin, now I know why you worked so hard to come home. You wanted to avoid the torture."

Jose wheeled Brian back to his room and assisted him into his bed. "You're probably tired. Why don't you rest and I'll see you this afternoon."

Justin turned the blinds up so the sun was blocked. He leaned over to kiss Brian gently on the lips.

"I won't break. Come give me a real kiss." Brian pulled Justin's hand toward his bed.

Justin leaned in closer and gave Brian a deep kiss. Brian returned the kiss, running his hands up and down Justin's arms.

Lindsay and Melanie entered the room without knocking. "Jeez, even when Brian's in the fucking hospital, they're making out like teenagers," Melanie complained as she saw them.

Brian let go of Justin's arms and took his mouth away. "Hello, Lindsay. Where's my kid?"

"He's with the sitter. I wasn't sure you were up to having Gus visit. I'll bring him next time," She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "So how are, Brian? You look good."

Lindsay looked around for a place to sit, and pulled the chair over toward the bed. Justin sat on the bed on Brian's other side, closer to the window, and Melanie stood.

"I'm fabulous, of course. Ready to run a marathon tomorrow," Brian answered. He leaned over to Justin, whispering something in his ear, and Justin grinned.

"Really, Brian," Lindsay encouraged him. "How are you?"

"They took the tube out of my dick, so now I can piss in a damn container. Any more medical information you want to know?" he snarked.

"Never mind. Glad you're feeling better." Lindsay turned toward Justin, "Your show is this week. When are you going back to New York? I'm sure you're excited."

Justin glared at Lindsay, wishing she would shut her mouth, but didn't say anything since he didn't want to start an argument in Brian's room. He silently seethed when he realized that she was up to her old tricks so soon.

"I leave on Thursday and come back on Saturday morning. The show's Friday and I'm sure it will be a success. The gallery owner is showcasing some of my best work, and I'm sharing the show with only one other artist. I'm sorry that you can't come," he said, only a little bit truthfully.

"Oh, I would love to come to your show, but you know..."

"Why Lindsay, if you want to go, you could use my ticket. I don't think the dungeon master will let me get out of here in time, but it's a shame to waste it." Brian looked at Lindsay, watching the look of surprise and happiness cross her face.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Turning toward Melanie she asked, "Do you think I could go? I would love to see the show. Justin always does such wonderful work."

Melanie smiled a fake smile. "I don't know. There's a lot going on this weekend. Gus has a birthday party and J.R..." Melanie stopped talking for a few moments and looked at Lindsay's smiling face. "Well, of course we can work out the logistics. It would be good for you to get away."

Lindsay stood up and gave Melanie a big hug and went to kiss her.

"None of that lesbian stuff in my room. I'm tired, so I think I'll take a nap. Justin will talk to you later to work out the logistics. Bye Lindsay," Brian said as he closed his eyes.

The girls walked out of Brian's room and Brian cautiously opened one eye. "They're gone, right Sunshine?"

"Yeah they're gone." Justin looked at Brian, tying to gage his mood, but could not. "So you had a ticket?" It was really a statement more than a question.

‘Yeah, I had a ticket. I always come to your shows," Brian said as he looked at Justin.

Justin got off the bed, pacing the small room. "So you had a ticket?" Justin touched his index finger of his right hand to the index finger of his left. "Last summer you said you didn't want to see me again." He touched his right index finger to his second finger on his left hand. "You kept me as your Medical Proxy and Power of Attorney." He touched his right index finger to his middle finger. "Brian, what kind of game are you playing?"

"No games, Justin. I said I would call you when I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you, so I bought a ticket to your next show. What's the problem with that?"

"I don't believe you!" Justin raised his voice and hit the closed door with his open hand. "You're a selfish prick who doesn't care for anyone but yourself!"

"I never claimed to be anything else. Why are you so mad?" Brian asked.

Justin took several deep breaths, and then sat down in one of the chairs. He put his head in his hands and stared down at the floor for several minutes. Looking at Brian, he willed the moisture away from his eyes. "Do you have any idea how much it means to me to know that you were planning on coming to the show? Do you know that I dream about you almost every night? I can feel you next to me, your body heat warming me as I lay in my cold bed." Justin couldn't sit still; he stood up and paced the small room like a caged animal. He stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at Brian with the most willful look he could muster. "I love you, Brian. You want me in your life or you wouldn't have kept me on your accounts, kept me as your Medical Proxy, or bought a ticket to my show."

"Okay," Brian nodded.

"Okay? That's all you're going to say?" Justin asked, exasperated with the conversation.

"Look Justin, you know I care for you. Known that for years, ever since the prom. What more do you want?"

"I want..." Justin started, but didn't finish as a knock on the door interrupted him.

"Come in," Brian said. "Hi Michael."

"I was just leaving," Justin said. "I'll be back later."

"Justin. Wait," Brian hesitated.

"Visit with Michael. I'm getting some lunch," Justin said as he walked out the door, grabbing his coat from the chair.

Justin went down to the lobby and walked to the smoking area. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, calming his nerves. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I let him get to me again. When am I going to learn?" he said out loud, although no one was listening. He took a few more drags from his cigarette and then dropped the butt into the ash container. "Brian said he cared. He admitted it out loud. Why do I have to be such a drama princess? Why can't I just accept that he loves me and not want the words? He said the words, hell even asked me to marry him- bought me a fucking house to live in. That is Brian's way to say I love you. Actions. Actions, Taylor . They are the Brian Kinney mantra." He paced around the small area, pulling his coat a little tighter around his torso. The wind was starting to pick up and it was chilling him. He took several deep breaths, realizing he had calmed down.

His stomach rumbled, finally remembering that he told Brian he was going to eat. He walked back in the hospital, appreciating its heat and warmth, and went to the cafeteria. He grabbed his usual burger, fries and a coke. He ate them slowly, hoping that Michael would be gone when he got back. His mind drifted to his upcoming dinner with his mother and the show in New York. "Shit," he whispered. "Lindsay will be there. I hope she doesn't try to meddle any more in my life." Justin took his trash and threw it away, putting his tray on the conveyor line. There was something comforting in the routine.

Returning to Brian's room, he heard voices and stood outside the room to listen.

"I'm pretty busy at the store, but Brian, don't worry I'll help you when you get out of the hospital. I'll come by every day and make sure you have whatever you need," Michael said.

"No need, Mikey. Justin will be helping me. He's made that very clear. Besides, according to Jose, I won't need a lot of help."

"I thought he was going back to New York . Ma said he has a show this weekend. I thought..."

"He has a show, but he's only going to be gone for a few days."

"He's coming back to Pittsburg?"

"Don't know, but if he does I won't complain. I miss him. Don't tell him that."

"You miss him? What is there to miss? He just runs away whenever there is something hard to deal with."

"Mikey, he's here, isn't he? I wouldn't call this an easy thing. Would you?"

"No I guess not. Why do you think he came back? I mean last summer..."

"I don't have to explain everything to you. Now, don't you have some comic books to sell?"

‘Yeah. I guess I better get going."

"Michael?"

"Yeah."

"Give Justin a break. I want him to stay."

"I'll try."

"There is no try. Do. Now go. I need some rest before my next therapy session." Brian closed his eyes, dismissing Michael.

Michael leaned over and kissed Brian gently on the lips and left the room.

Justin heard Brian's conversation and didn't want Michael to know he'd heard. He quickly walked down to the soda machine and out of Michael's line of vision. He bought a soda and walked casually toward Brian's room. He passed Michael on the way to the elevator.

"He's sleeping," Michael said as he pushed the button for the elevator.

"Thanks. I'll be quiet." Justin walked to the room and sat in the chair.

Brian opened his eyes. "He gone?"

"Yes. You weren't sleeping?"

"Very good, Dr. Watson."

Justin grinned at Brian. "Why?"

"I was tired of him. Come here." He motioned with his hand.

Justin started to walk towards Brian, but stopped before he got to the bed.

"Why won't you talk to me?" Justin asked softly.

"We talk. I distinctly remember talking. My brain isn't that addled," Brian said, as he straightened the blankets.

"I heard what you told Michael, about wanting me here. Would it be so hard to say that to me? Don't I have a right to hear those words first hand, not accidentally because I happen to be at your door? " Justin asked as he walked to the bed.

"We're not lesbians, Justin," Brian defended his actions.

Justin walked to the window, but turned toward Brian. "No excuses, Brian. If you can tell Michael that you want me around, how is that any different then telling me?"

Brian sighed loudly. "It's not. Come here." He patted a section of the blanket next to him.

Sitting down, he lightly touched Brian on the forearm, rubbing lightly on his skin. "I know you love me. After all, I'm your prince." Justin smiled when he thought of the day Brian asked him to marry him. "Why do you keep playing games?"

Brian sat up in bed, reaching his finger to gently caress Justin's cheek. "I've cared for you for a long time and unfortunately that doesn't seem to change whether you're here or in New York. Right now you need to be in New York, building a career, learning about life and I have a life here. They don't mix well."

"So... you do want me around?" Justin asked, trying to keep his smile in check.

"Of course. You're a fantastic fuck. I can't find anyone's bubble butt that my cock likes better," Brian joked. Brian leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Justin's neck and kissing him deeply. Justin returned the kiss. They stayed like that until they both heard a loud....

"Hrmph."

Justin pulled back suddenly, losing his balance and almost toppling to the floor. Brian grinned and let out a small laugh.

"Jose, I see you're back to torture me. I guess any activity that will get me out of this bed is better then watching these four walls."

"Should I leave?" Justin asked hesitantly.

"Whatever, but I can't imagine watching the cripple would be exciting." Brian shrugged as he moved his legs off the bed.

Jose helped Brian stand, positioning himself behind Brian and his walker for safety and support. Brian walked slowly, but steadily to the door.

"You're doing great. Do you want to go back to bed, or do you want to walk the hallway a little?" Jose asked.

Brian was sweating with the exertion, but he wasn't shaking like he had this morning. "Let's see what the walls of the hospital look like. Maybe they have more interesting sights than in my room," Brian looked at Justin and smiled.

Justin nodded his head, understanding Brian's unspoken words. He's starting to feel better if he's referring to finding tricks already.

Brian walked to the nurse's station and returned to his room. Jose helped him get back in to bed.

"Justin, do you want to do his range of motion? I'll watch to make sure you're doing it right, but I'm sure Brian would prefer your hands over mine."

Justin jumped up from his seat and walked to the bed, picking up Brian's ankle. He gently rotated the ankle to the right and then to the left. He massaged the calf muscle, alternating squeezing and light rubbing.

"That feels wonderful. I bet this is good therapy for your hand too," Brian said as he relaxed into the touch.

Jose watched Justin's careful ministrations and didn't pay attention to Brian's words."You're doing great. Do you think you're okay to continue?"

"What about his other leg? Do I have to be careful with the stitches?" Justin asked as he continued his caress of Brian's leg.

"Just don't massage directly over the sutures. They're coming out either tomorrow or the next day, so there's no need to worry about popping them."

"Can I take a shower when they are removed?" Brian asked hopefully.

"No reason not to. You'll have to be careful. You're not used to standing for long periods of time. You'll probably need help."

Brian grinned. "I think Justin could be talked into helping. What do you think, Sunshine? Wanna help me take a shower?"

"Uhh. I don't think..."

"The idea is not to think."

"Brian," Justin glared. "I really don't think that Jose wants to hear..."

"Jose is used to it. Right, Jose?"

Jose's beeper went off. "Sorry. I'm needed elsewhere. Are you okay, Justin?"

"I'm good. See you tomorrow." Jose looked at the beeper number again, gave Justin a thumbs up, and quickly left the room. Justin finished massaging Brian's thigh and kissed him deeply.

"Alone at last." Brian grinned as he reached for Justin.

"Not yet. I still have to do your other leg. If I don't massage it and do your range of motion exercises, it will get stiff and it will really hurt."

"Other parts of me are really hurting, Justin," Brian teased. Brian took Justin's hand away from his thigh, placing it on his cock.

"Okay. I'll jerk you off, but then I'm going to do the other leg," Justin agreed.

Justin grabbed the blanket and laid it over the top of Brian's legs. He didn't want Brian to be too exposed, especially if he had to stop suddenly. He sat down on the bed, facing the door and leaned in to kiss Brian. Brian returned the kiss, and grabbed Justin by the neck to pull him closer. Justin assisted Brian in pulling down the lounge pants, and Brian's hard cock sprung free from its soft prison. As Justin kissed Brian, he wrapped his hand around Brian's cock and slowly stroked the stiff appendage. Brian's precum quickly dripped from his slit. Justin ran his thumb over the wetness, spreading it over the cockhead. His hand moved quickly on the hard shaft, and he felt Brian's hips push up to meet his strokes. He quickened his hand motions and Brian moaned into Justin's mouth. Justin heard Brian's quick breath as his impending orgasm neared. Justin increased his hold on Brian and jerked his hand quickly. Brian surged up off the bed and Justin's hand was soon covered with Brian's come.

"That was hot," Brian panted as he lay back on the pillow. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" Brian yelled.

"What? What's wrong?" Justin asked worriedly.

"My fucking leg is cramping."

Justin quickly wiped his hand on the sheet and moved to Brian's leg, massaging the muscles, hoping to quiet it down. Brian lay back on the bed.

"Better. This is for shit. Can't even get a fucking hand job without my leg crapping out," Brian bitched.

Justin finished the massage and gently kissed Brian on the lips. "Don't blame your leg, Brian. Your cock is thrilled to get some action and your leg's not used to the activity. Your body's just remembering that your cock is a major player here. You've had a tube up it for the last two weeks."

"Don't remind me, twat. Now go ask the nice orderly to get me some new sheets. These seem to be wet," Brian teased, tongue in cheek.

Justin grinned and found an orderly to change Brian's sheets. When Brian had been returned to his clean bed, Justin pulled the chair over to Brian's bed. Brian's eyes were heavy; he closed them. Justin leaned over, giving him a light kiss on the lips. Brian opened his eyes briefly, looking at Justin.

"Join me," he said as he patted the bed.

Justin smiled at the invitation, but shook his head. "You need your rest. You'll be home soon, and then I'd love to join you." Justin picked up Brian's hand, gently caressing his arm until he heard the slow, even breathing of his lover.

When Justin was certain that Brian was sleeping, he reached for his messenger bag, pulling out his sketch pad. Brian looked peaceful and rested, his face glowing with the after-effects of sex, and his skin was a nice, healthy color, not the pale whiteness that he'd seen for most of the last two weeks. His hair was getting long, and Brian was constantly pushing it away from his eyes. Justin sketched until the light waned, and he guessed it was almost time for him to leave. He stepped in the hallway to call Daphne.

"Brian's sleeping and I don't want to leave until he wakes up. Can you come in about an hour?"

"I'll come now," Daphne said. "I picked up something for him. See you in half an hour."

"Thanks. I'll be in his room." Justin returned to Brian's room, sitting in the chair by the bed. He picked up his hand and held it, allowing the peace and quiet to calm him as well.

Brian slept for another twenty minutes. "Justin, what time is it?"

Justin squeezed Brian's hand and leaned over to kiss him. "It's dark outside, so I'd say around 6:00 or 6:30. I'll tell the nurses that you're awake so they can bring your dinner."

"Turn the light on as you leave. I hate sitting in the dark unless I'm high or getting a blow job," Brian instructed Justin as he walked out of the room.

"You must be feeling better. You haven't even been awake for ten minutes and you're already mentioning sex." Justin smiled his mega watt smile and turned on the light as he left the room.

Shortly after his return, he helped Brian arrange his pillows so he could sit up, and brought the tray table over to Brian's bed. The food tray arrived and Brian cautiously uncovered the food.

"This shit looks gross. Why don't you call the Chinese place on 7th and have them deliver some edible food," Brian suggested. "If I'm to regain my strength, I have to eat, and this food is not fit for human consumption!"

"I guess I could do that. You want your usual?" Justin asked as he got out his phone and started scrolling down the entries until he found the number.

"Yeah. Sounds good."

As Justin was punching in the number to order, Daphne arrived with a large bag of food from the Diner. "Special Delivery. I stopped by the Diner on the way over and brought you a turkey sandwich and some lemon bars. Justin, I brought you some lemon bars; hamburgers are hard to keep warm."

Brian put out his hand, grinning as he looked in the bag. "Why Daphne, I knew there was a reason I kept you around." Brian pulled out the sandwich, unwrapping it and laying it out on the hospital tray. He took a bite of the sandwich. "Much better than hospital food. So Daphne, are you planning on delivering me food everyday?"

Giggling at Brian's antics, Daphne shook her head. "Sorry, Brian. You'll have to get Justin to do your food runs for you. I have to work." She pulled out a lemon bar and took a bite of the sweet treat.

Brian finished his sandwich and ate his lemon bar. "The only thing missing is a shot of Beam, but I doubt that I can get away with drinking that in here."

Justin winced at the mention of liquor, acknowledging for the first time the reason Brian was in the hospital. I really should bring that up at some point, but not now. Maybe he'll slow down if I come back here to live. I know he was only using it for pain management.

"I see those wheels turning, Justin, and I don't intend to let that happen again. But don't you think for one minute that I've given up my drugs or my drinking. I just promise to be more careful next time." Brian took his finger and made a cross over his heart with it.

Justin smiled but didn't comment. He knows me so well. I just need to remember that he cares, too.

Brian yawned again. "The last time I was this tired was when I had cancer and before that, when I was eight years old. It really sucks to sleep all day long. Now if I had blondie here in my bed, it would be tolerable, but he seems to think he has to wait until I get out of the hospital before he'll join me in bed."

Brian pushed the bed cart away and slid down in the bed.

"I think that's our cue to leave, Daph. Meet you outside in a few. Let me say goodnight."

Daphne leaned over and kissed Brian on the cheek. "Night, Brian." She walked out of the room and went to the waiting area.

Justin pushed the chair back to the side of the room and closed the blinds to block out the glare from the street lights. He leaned over the bed, pressing his forehead against Brian's, and said, "Later."

Brian pulled his head down and kissed him softly on the lips. "Later," he said in almost a whisper.

Justin joined Daphne, and they walked to her car. The wind was blowing hard, so they didn't speak until they got inside her car. Daphne turned the heat on high and they waited a few minutes for the car to warm up before heading to Daphne's apartment.

"He seems to be in a good mood. You guys weren't fighting," she remarked.

"He walked twice today, and he's regaining his strength. I massaged his legs after his second walk, and then I gave him a blow job," Justin grinned as he shared his exploits.

Daphne turned briefly to look at Justin. "No shit! I knew you guys were always horny, but in the hospital? Weren't you worried someone would come in?" She turned the music on, and a commercial for a local art exhibit came on the radio.

Justin pulled down her CD's and chose one by Moby, placing it in the player.

"That's half the thrill, and of course, Brian Kinney is my most favorite dick to suck. No other cock has ever compared to his cock." Justin smiled as he absently licked his lips in remembrance.

"TMI Justin! You two are just too much. What do you want for dinner?"

"We could cook the pizza we picked up yesterday. I'm really tired and I want to get to the hospital early tomorrow. I'm leaving in a few days and I want to help Brian as much as possible."

"I bet you just love having Brian in the hospital, your captive audience...He can't tell you to leave, or throw you out of the loft!" Daphne teased.

"Well, I will say there are some advantages to it, but I'd really rather have him a willing participant than a captive one,"

Justin answered, and then he yawned. "It's only been a little over two weeks and I'm exhausted. I don't know how you guys kept up the pace for almost three months when I was bashed."

"We did it out of love. Just like you are," Daphne said quietly. She smiled and got a whimsical look on her face. Justin didn't respond, just sat and listened to the CD for the remainder of the ride.

Justin and Daphne arrived at her apartment and ate pizza, chatted about Justin's upcoming trip to New York, and Brian's recovery. Justin went to bed about 10:00, and Daphne followed him shortly after.
___________________________________
In the morning, Daphne dressed for work, and Justin grabbed a quick breakfast consisting of a bagel and a breakfast bar. Daphne drove him to the hospital, and then agreed to pick him up at 7:00.

Justin walked into Brian's room, where he found Brian reading the Newsweek that Justin brought over the weekend.

"Give me your phone. I need to call Cynthia...see if Kinnetik is still standing."

"Hello Brian. How do you feel? Did you have a good night?"

"Stop with the solicitations." Brian put down his magazine, turning to Justin. He put his thumb to his teeth., thinking for a few moments. He placed his hand in his lap. "Hello Justin. I'm fine. Fabulous. Breakfast was lukewarm eggs and dry white toast. I thought hospitals were here to make you better, but the food at this place will give you a heart attack, and a patient would probably get to stay longer to experience their great hospitality. Now give me your phone," he demanded as he held out his hand.

Justin put down his messenger bag, went to the window, opened the blinds, and pulled the chair over to the bed. He pulled out the notebook he'd been using to keep track of his conversations with Cynthia, then leaned over and kissed Brian on the cheek.

"Why yes, I am fine, Brian. Daphne and I had pizza last night, and I slept like a baby. Here's the notebook that I've been keeping based on my conversations with Cynthia." He handed Brian his phone. "Want me to leave?" he said as he took out his notebook with a list of things he needed to do before leaving for New York.

"No. I may need you to take notes." Brian waved his hand for Justin to stay put, so Justin sat back down.

Brian reviewed Justin's notes, getting up to speed on his accounts. He dialed the office, hoping his staff wasn't getting lax in his absence.

Brian wasted no time with pleasantries once Cynthia had picked up her phone, and immediately launched into his questions.

"Cynthia, I see that the Brown Athletics account has a new representative. Have we sent him complimentary tickets to the Xplosions? What about Liberty Air? Is the art department up on the redesign of the summer travel promotion?"

"Brian, Ted and I have it under control. Do you want me to come to the hospital so we can go over a few things?" Cynthia asked.

"Come about two. I'll see you then," Brian answered and hung up the phone.

"Are you always that rude?" Justin asked as he made some additional notes in his own notebook. "Cynthia practically runs your business when you're away, and all you have to say to her is did she send comp tickets to some new ad rep? Jeez, Brian. No wonder your staff run when you walk in the door." Justin stood up, placing his notebook on the chair. "Want anything? I'm getting some coffee?"

"How about a blow job? It's been over twelve hours since you last blew me, and I'm sure you'd like your high protein breakfast," Brian teased.

Justin rolled his eyes. "Want anything to drink?" he asked again.

Brian turned somber. "No. The nurses say caffeine and soda are hard on my kidneys. Want me to wait at least a week before I have any of the good stuff. It's juice and water for me, Sonnyboy."

"Okay. I'll be right back, then."

While Justin was gone, Brian rang for the nurses to help him use the bathroom. When Justin returned, he saw the door pulled to, but didn't think anything of it, so he walked in to find the nurse holding the portable urinal for Brian.

"Sorry, Uhh, III," he stammered and left the room quickly. I'm a idiot. I've seen Brian's cock thousands of times. I've used the bathroom when he was shaving or brushing his teeth. Two men don't have the same ideas of modesty, but there is something about seeing someone helping Brian use the urinal and me watching that just feels wrong. Just wrong. Guess I better get used to it, since I may need to help him when he gets home.

Justin waited until the nurse left the room before re-entering. Brian didn't say anything, and Justin hoped that he didn't know what had just occurred. "I'm back. Has Jose been in this morning?"

"No. He should be here soon. I bet I get to walk both ends of the hallway today. Woo Hoo," Brian said sarcastically. "I need to be able to stand on my own two feet soon. Can't have you giving me a blow job in the shower and I collapse mid way through." Brian grinned as he saw Justin's face turn slightly red. "Why Justin, are you embarrassed? I'd think by now that talk of blow jobs and showers would be old hat to you," Brian teased.

‘I'm not embarrassed, Brian. It's just that we're in a hospital and you just woke up from a coma and ..."

"Whatever. Anyway Cynthia is coming at 2:00 to go over the accounts. Why don't you hand me that pad and your notes again, and I'll get to work. Shame you didn't bring my laptop. It would have come in handy."

"You're supposed to be recuperating, not working. Can't you relax for a few minutes?" Justin pleaded. He stood up with his arms crossed over his chest. "Can't we just talk like normal people?" Justin walked over to Brian's bed, sitting on the edge, leaned over and gave Brian a brief kiss on the lips.

"We're not lesbians, Justin. We don't analyze everything to death."

"I know, but I thought..." Justin stammered.

"What did you think? Tell me."

"We could talk about my show," Justin suggested as he stroked Brian's arm.

"So you have pictures of the pieces?"

Justin swiftly got up from the bed and found his messenger bag. He rummaged through it until he found his portfolio, and brought it back to bed. He opened the book to the copies of his paintings that he had chosen for the show. "These are the paintings I'm showing. There are fifteen of them. My agent said if most of them sell during this show, I could be looking at a solo show in a few months. I've sold every painting I've ever put in a show, so I think I have a good chance. I've done it Brian. I made it as an artist in New York . Aren't you proud of me? We should celebrate," Justin spoke fast and strung the sentences together that it appeared as one sentence rather than a number of them.

Brian reached his arms out, placing them around Justin's neck and pulling him closer to him. "Slow down. I have every confidence in you, but you haven't sold them yet. Let's wait and see." Brian leaned in and they touched foreheads.

Justin enjoyed Brian's embrace and close proximity until they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Time for you to get out of bed, Brian. Let's go explore the neighborhood," Jose teased. "I know these same four walls can get really boring."

Brian let go of Justin, and Justin returned his portfolio to his seat. "Leave it out, Justin. When I come back, I want to pick out a painting. I need a new one at the office."

Frowning, Justin said, "You don't have to support me, Brian. I can do this on my own!"

"I never said I was supporting you. I'm making an investment in a rising artist whom I happen to know very well. Now, are you going to pout or watch Jose torture me again? I was kind of hoping you would give me another massage after my therapy," Brian smiled and raised his eyebrow with the innuendo.

"I'll come watch. You never know what information I'll pick up for future taunting."

Brian did his therapy, and he was able to walk the hallway twice. When he was finished, a fine sheen of sweat covered his face. He lay on the mat while Jose completed his range of motion.

"Justin, do you want to do the honors?" Jose asked.

"Sure," Justin said as he quickly walked to the mat area. "Brian, you're sweating like you ran a mile long race." Justin commented. He turned to Jose. "Is that normal? I mean, for him to be so tired and sweaty." He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but it was evident.

"Don't worry, Justin. Brian's been in bed for several weeks. His body is still weak, but he's making remarkable progress. I'm really pleased that he walked the hallway twice this morning." Jose picked up Brian's chart and made some notes in it while he watched Justin. "Don't be afraid of hurting him Justin. Push a little harder on his hamstrings. He's really tight there." Jose demonstrated his massage again. "They took out his sutures this morning, so he's a little tender over that area, but it will help the area heal if we get the blood circulating in there."

"I didn't notice that they took your stitches out, Brian. Why didn't you say something?"

"I don't tell you everything, twat. You want me to tell you when I take a piss, too? Oh yeah, you walked in on that one, didn't you," Brian snidely commented.

Justin blushed, but didn't comment. He continued the massage and perform the range of motion exercises on Brian's legs. When he completed the routine, he moved out of the way so Jose could place Brian back in his wheelchair. He walked behind them as Jose returned Brian to his room.

"Want to rest, or do you want to sit for awhile?" Jose asked Brian.

"I'll sit in the chair. I'm not too tired this morning." Brian motioned his hand toward the chair, and Jose helped him into it.

"I'll be back this afternoon. Maybe tomorrow we can start walking a few stairs." Brian rolled his eyes and watched Jose leave the room.

"So..."

"So," Justin repeated. "What now? Do you want to look at my notebook on what's happening at Kinnetik again, or is there something else you want to do?"

"Another blow job would be nice, but I actually think I'm too tired too enjoy it," Brian half joked. "I'm going to close my eyes for a few minutes, and then we can talk about your upcoming trip."

"Okay." Justin grabbed the extra blanket off the bed and placed it on Brian. He pulled out his to-do list and started reviewing it.

Brian slept for an hour, and woke with a start. "Shit! That was some dream!" Brian rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair a few times.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Justin. We. Are. Not. Lesbians. We don't talk about everything," Brian said curtly.

"I know, but..."

"Jesus! Okay, I was dreaming about being in the loft, and I had a drink in my hand, and then it fell and I fell too."

"Oh. That's weird," Justin commented.

"Yeah, I know. It was pretty damn vivid."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Lunch," the dietary aide announced. She placed the tray on the hospital cart, and smiled at Brian and Justin. I'll be back in a while to pick up your empties," she said as she walked out of the room.

"Justin, what is that? It smells vile, even from here."

Justin lifted the top and attempted to identify the food. "It looks like meatloaf and mashed potatoes. There are green beans on the side. I think this is tapioca pudding, but I'm not sure." Justin turned toward Brian. "I can grab something from the cafeteria for you. Although, I'm not sure it's any more edible."

Brian motioned for Justin to move the tray cart closer to his chair and lower it to that level. He opened the plastic covered silverware and took a leery smell of the plate. "Smells worse from up close." Brian picked up his fork and put some mashed potatoes on it, and placed the white mess in his mouth. He quickly spit it out. "Yep, vile." He put some meatloaf on his fork and took a tentative bite of it, managing to swallow it. "No worse than the diner. At least I don't have Deb smacking her gum in my ear as I eat it." He grinned at the picture of Deb that flashed in his mind. He took several more bites of the meatloaf, and then tasted the green beans. "They're limp. I always thought green beans were supposed to be straight and stiff, like a cock, not limp. Leave it to the hospital to ruin even green beans." He ate a few forks full of beans and drank his juice. "Best part of the meal. Guess they can't fuck up juice." Brian put down his silverware and pushed the cart away. "I'm done. Maybe you can sneak me a turkey sandwich and some lemon bars tomorrow. Aren't you having dinner with Mommy Dearest to get your ticket for New York?"

Justin had been half watching Brian pick at his lunch and half reviewing his own work. At the mention of New York, his ears perked up, and he turned toward Brian. "What about New York?"

"Ah I see I regained your attention. Aren't you supposed to go to dinner with Mother Taylor today so you can get your plane ticket?"

"Uhh Yeah. Did I tell you that?"

"Who is the one in the hospital and just awakened from a coma, Sunshine?"

Justin smiled at Brian's ribbing. "Yeah, I'm supposed to meet mom tonight."

"I take it she knows why you're here?"

"She knows. Why?"

"Just wondering."

Justin got up and moved the tray cart out of Brian's way so he could sit more comfortably. "Brian, you don't just wonder anything. What is going on in your scheming little brain?"

"I do not have a scheming little brain. I have a very large brain," Brian laughed at Justin's defensiveness. "I'm wondering if she has lectured you."

"Oh."

"Oh. Is that all you have to say?" Brian repeated.

"Well, she wasn't too happy when she learned that I was here for you, but then when she found out what happened.... Well, she got over herself, and she's called everyday for an update."

"Nice to know there is someone in this world who isn't going to give me advice, and just wants information," Brian smiled a small grin. "Wish there was a fucking clock in view. I hate not knowing what time it is," Brian remarked as he scanned the walls.

"There's a clock above your bed. Why do you care what time it is? It's not like you wear a watch," Justin said as he put down his note book. He pointed to the clock above Brian's bed.

"I may not wear a watch, but time is an important part of my business. I have meetings to attend, and conference calls to make at appointed times, and I always need to know the time."

"But Brian, you're in the hospital, and the only appointment you have is with Jose, and he comes to you. I don't see the big deal." Justin frowned as he tried to make sense of Brian's ramblings.

A knock was heard and a female voice asked, "Can I come in?"

Brian answered, "Yes, Cynthia."

Justin stood up to shake hands with Cynthia and pulled the other chair closer to the bed. "I understand now," Justin said as he nodded to Cynthia. "I'll leave you two and I'll get something to eat. Want anything, Brian?"

‘No, but if you see Jose, tell him I'm busy and not to come get me for therapy for at least an hour and a half."

"You can't dictate his schedule, Brian," Justin admonished.

"Watch me. Now go eat. I have to make millions of dollars to pay for my stay at Chez Allegany General," Brian smirked as he waved Justin toward the door.

___________________________________
Justin went to the cafeteria, ordered and ate his usual lunch, then walked to the gas station to buy more cigarettes. The wind wasn't as cold today, to so he stayed in the courtyard and smoked a cigarette after he returned to the hospital. He wanted to give Brian time to work with Cynthia, and decided to pick up a magazine in the gift shop. He looked at his choices, and quickly remembered why he didn't read magazines very often. Unless I'm interested in the latest scandal of Lindsay Lohan, whoever the fuck she is, or I want depressing news on Iraq , the choices are pretty dismal. I keep up with the news in other ways; there should be an art magazine or at least something I can read. He looked for another ten minutes and couldn't find a single thing he was interested in purchasing. I guess I'll have to go to Barnes and Noble before I leave. At least they have a decent selection of magazines. I'll need something to read on the plane and in the airport. Fucking 9/11 and the airline restrictions that require me to be there two hours before my fligh!. I swear, if I had a car, I might just drive since it takes me almost as long to wait in the airport and to fly, and then take a taxi to my place. "If onlys" are for dreamers, and I don't have a car and even if I did, where the hell would I keep it? New York is not a car city, even if the traffic is horrendous. My entire time in New York, I've only met one person with a car. He glanced around the shop and saw a clock. He realized he'd been gone almost three hours. Shit, I better get back.

Justin returned to Brian's room, and heard Debbie's unmistakable voice.

"Brian! Good to see you're awake, asshole," Deb began. "I was fucking terrified you'd never wake up." She walked over to the bed and sat in the chair. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Before she could say anymore, Justin stormed in the room. "Debbie! Brian is supposed to be resting." Justin began, but Debbie interrupted him.

"Sunshine!" Debbie stood up and gave Justin a hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in New York- what with the big show you have coming up...."

"I'm leaving in a few days."

"Oh. So I was saying, Brian... Michael's been keeping me up to date and I've been working a lot at the diner, so I'm sorry I haven't been here for a few days."

Brian nodded.

"You seem to be coming along well, and your color is good. Now Brian, why don't you tell me what the fuck you were thinking? Overdosing? Come on kid, you know better than that." Debbie leaned in and put herself close to Brian's face.

"Debbie," Justin admonished. "Brian doesn't owe you an explanation. Thanks for coming, but he needs his rest. The therapist will be here shortly, and he's had a long day." Justin walked over to Debbie and put his hand on her arm, encouraging her to get up.

"I'm not going anywhere, Justin, until this asshole answers my question. What the fuck were you doing, Brian?"

"Debbie...You need to leave. This is not the time to have this discussion! Brian is recuperating," Justin tried again to get Debbie to leave.

"I can't believe you're kicking me out." Debbie looked at Justin. "I won't forget this," she said as she pulled her coat off the chair and quickly put it on, turning to leave in a huff.
Justin watched Debbie leave, sighing loudly once she left the room.

"You make a good gatekeeper," Brian said.

"I really don't like kicking Debbie out, but she has no right..."

"Justin, Debbie's my mom, at least the only mother that really cared for me. She hovers and sticks her nose into everybody's business, including mine."

"But, I thought..." Justin stammered and turned away from Brian.

‘Turn around and come here, Justin," Brian instructed.

Justin did as Brian asked and sat on the bed. Brian put his arms around Justin's neck and pulled him close. "I asked you to keep the vultures away, and you are doing exactly what I asked. No apologies, no regrets. Hanging around me will probably get you a nasty reputation, Justin. The family doesn't always like what I do, and if you're with me..."

"I'm a big boy, Brian. I can take care of myself." Justin leaned his forehead against Brian's.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Jose walked in. "Sorry i'm so late, but we still need to have you walk again, Brian. Are you ready to go for your second whirlwind tour today?"

"Sure." Brian turned toward Justin. "You coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Brian pushed his legs over the side of the bed, and allowed Jose to help him up. He stood with little effort, and started walking toward the door.

"You're getting stronger, but take it easy. Your body is still weak."

Brian slowed down as he walked out in to the hallway. Justin watched from behind, marveling at Brian's progress in the last few days. At least he knows I'm here, and he doesn't have to fight like I did. I worked so hard so I could go talk to him. That bastard. I can't believe he was here and I never knew! I have some choice words for my mother, too. She knew, and never told me.

Brian walked the hallway twice, and then returned to his room. Jose turned toward Justin. "Want to take over again?" he asked as he picked up Brian's leg to massage it.

"Love to," Justin answered as he picked up Brian's legs and began to perform his range of motion exercises.

Jose watched for a few minutes and gave Justin a thumbs up. "See you tomorrow. You're doing so well, I think we will try a cane tomorrow."

"A cane," Brian said sarcastically. "I'm old before my time." He brought the back of his hand up to his forehead, and frowned.

"Drama Queen!" Justin laughed at Brian's antics, and leaned down to kiss him. Brian pulled Justin to him by the back of his neck and returned the kiss. Justin soon forgot his massage, and sat on the bed to deepen the kiss. He pulled away and motioned toward the door. Brian nodded his agreement. Justin returned to the bed, and Brian scooted to the edge to make room for him. Brian kissed Justin as he began unbuttoning the blond's jeans. Slipping his hand inside Justin's waistband, he heard the other man gasp at the warmth of his hand. Justin lifted up his butt, and Brian helped him lower his jeans. He didn't take them off, wanting to be able to pull them up in a hurry if needed. Brian continued his kiss, and began to caress Justin's cock. Soon he was pulling on the hard flesh, and Justin arched into Brian's touch, shooting his come over Brian's fingers. Brian drew back from Justin's mouth, and brought his come-covered fingers to his lips, sucking off the juice.

"Did I speak loud enough, Justin?" Brian smiled, tongue in cheek.

"Loud and clear. Thanks." Justin leaned over and licked some of his come off of Brian's fingers.

"None needed."

"Your turn," Justin announced as he began pulling down Brian's lounge pants.

"Not this time, Sunshine. I'm worn out. Maybe after dinner."

Justin frowned. "Can't. I have to go to dinner with Mom." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Shit! I'd better get going, or I'll be late."

"Tell Mother Taylor hello," Brian instructed.

Justin leaned down to touch his forehead to Brian's and said, "Later."

"Later," Brian repeated as he watched Justin gather his messenger bag and walk out of the room.
_____________________________________
Justin took the bus back to Daphne's since he had to meet his mom before Daphne got off work. He showered and dressed in half an hour, and his mom picked him up in front of Daphne's apartment at 6:30.

He opened the car door, and leaned over to kiss his mother. "Hi mom," he said. "Thanks for taking me to dinner. Hospital food gets really old."

"You're welcome. How's Brian?" Jennifer asked as she pulled into traffic. "Is Barney's okay for dinner?"

"Barney's is good. I'd love a real steak. Brian is really improving. He can walk the hall twice without stopping, and he's not nearly as tired as he was. Jose, that's his physical therapist, says he can start to use a cane tomorrow. Isn't that great?" Justin enthused.

"That's wonderful, dear." Jennifer pulled into a parking lot of a black building with a sign reading "Barney's." She grabbed her purse, and got out of the car.

Justin followed his mother into the restaurant, and they were seated immediately. The waiter took their order, then Justin helped himself to a roll.

"Tell me about the show," his mother encouraged. "I'm so excited for you."

Justin took a bite of his roll, slowing chewing the bread as he formulated his response. "Mom, I've had other shows; the difference is that there's only me and another artist in this one. My agent, Sam, said he has high hopes for this one. There's been a lot of buzz about my work. I'll bet after this, I can write my own ticket. You know I've sold all my pieces from every show." Justin beamed his ‘sunshine smile.' He took a drink of water, and looked around the room.

His mother took a drink of her tea, and then put her hand on top of Justin's. "I'm so proud of you."

Their salads arrived soon, and both of them ate a few bites. "What are your plans after the show?"

"I'm coming back here to help Brian, why?" Justin answered.

"He's well on his way to recovery," Jennifer commented.

Remembering what he had learned, Justin placed his fork in his salad bowl and glared at his mother, "Recovery. Funny you should mention recovery. You know, mine would have been much easier if I'd known Brian visited me. Why didn't you tell me that Brian came to the hospital every night?"

Jennifer turned white as the napkin on her lap. "I...I didn't want him there. I blamed, um, blamed him for the bashing."

Justin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "It wasn't your place. I was eighteen. You had no right." He slammed his hand on the table. "He cared for me and you pushed him away. How could you?"

"I thought it was for the best, Justin. He was too old for you, too grown up. You were so young, and didn't know what you wanted. I was just trying to protect you," Jennifer attempted to explain.

"Don't you know that it would have meant so much to me to know he was there?" Justin explained.

"Yes," Jennifer admitted.

"But, you still didn't tell me."

"No. I hoped that you would forget him."

"I didn't forget him, and he didn't forget me," Justin said quietly.

"No, he didn't. I'm sorry, Justin. I was wrong," Jennifer apologized.

Justin nodded his head and took a deep breath. He looked at the other diners who were trying not to glance at their table. I should know better than that. Causing a scene in a restaurant- how bad can I get?. The bashing was a long time ago, and if Brian hadn't told me, I would've never known. Things worked out, but still... I wish both of them would have told me. "Okay," Justin said as he picked up his salad fork again.

"Can you afford to come back here to help Brian with his recovery? If your show is as successful as you hope, won't you need to be in New York?"

"Not you too! I thought you would be on my side."

"I'm always on your side, Justin. I just want what's best for you. How can you work on your art if you're here with Brian?"

Exasperated, Justin started to push his chair away, but stopped. "Mom... don't you see? With the success of this show, I don't need to be in New York to paint anymore."

Jennifer sat for a few moments before answering. "Justin, please, I just want you to be happy."

Justin ate a few bites of his salad, and buttered another roll. "Thanks. Do you have my ticket? When are you flying down?"

Jennifer put down her fork and grabbed her purse off the floor. She unzipped it, finding the ticket, and gave it to Justin. "I thought I would fly in with you. I want to buy Molly an early birthday present."

"I won't be able to spend any time with you until after the opening," Justin reminded her. "Since I haven't been in town, Sam has a million things he wants to talk to me about."

After placing her purse back on the floor, she picked up her fork and resumed eating. She signaled the waiter for more tea, and drank some of the refreshing liquid after he refilled her glass.

"Brian was planning on coming to the show, but Lindsay's going to use his plane ticket instead," Justin casually remarked. "The food is really good. I forgot how much I like this place. I don't go out often in New York." Justin finished his salad and roll and pushed the plates aside, signaling to the waiter he was ready for their removal.

"I'm surprised he had a ticket. I thought you hadn't talked to Brian since last summer," Jennifer questioned.

"I hadn't. He mentioned having the ticket when Mel and Linds were visiting the other day. I was as surprised as you, but then again, after learning that Brian gave me his Power of Attorney and Medical Proxy, I'm not totally shocked. Brian does things in his own way."

Jennifer pushed her plate away, signaling to the waiter to remove it. "I can see that. Just be careful, Justin."

"I will, Mom. I'm not a little boy anymore. Brian loves me and I love him, and we'll work it out," Justin assured her.

Their dinner arrived, and all talk of Brian and the show was replaced with updates on PFLAG activities, and Molly's upcoming school year. After dinner, Jennifer took Justin back to Daphne's.

"I'll see you Thursday morning. Do you need a ride to the airport?"

Justin leaned over to kiss his mom goodbye. "That would be great. I'm going to spend the morning at the hospital. Can you pick me up there?"

"I'll be there about 11:00," Jennifer said as she leaned over to kiss Justin goodbye.

Justin walked into Daphne's apartment, using the spare key she'd given him. Daphne was sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Hey you. How was dinner?" Daphne asked as she patted the seat next to her on the couch.

Justin yawned and patted his stomach. "Dinner was good, except for the little ‘discussion' with my mom about Brian's visits to the hospital when I was bashed." He sat down on the couch, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet on the coffee table.

Daphne jumped up slightly and turned toward Justin. "Brian was at the hospital? I never saw him!"

"He came at night, when no one was around."

"When did you find this out?"

"Today. He told me. I don't think he really meant to, but once he said it, he admitted to being there."

Daphne smiled. "That asshole! Didn't he know you asked about him everyday? Why didn't he let you know then?"

Justin stood up and paced around the small room as he answered, "Brian doesn't want anyone to know he's vulnerable. Having the gang see him there would have meant having to admit things he wasn't ready to admit, even to himself."

"Still, it's really shitty that he came, and you didn't even know it," Daphne complained. "I can't believe he finally told you."

"I think Brian might be ready for a lot of things. At least, I hope so." Justin smiled at the memory of this afternoon's session where Brian's actions spoke loud and clear. "Maybe this thing is a stepping stone for us. I know I've already sold two paintings, and I'll probably sell the rest too. After this, I can convince Brian that I can paint anywhere. I need to be here for him, and me, since he is my inspiration; it makes sense that I paint better wherever he is" Justin put his hand over his heart, playing the drama queen that he was.

"You still plan on staying?"

"Yes, I still plan on staying. I'm not changing my mind, so don't you try," Justin said tersely.

"Okay, whatever! Want to watch a movie? It's early and we could run by the video store."

"No, I think I'm going to bed. See you in the morning." Justin turned and kissed Daphne on the cheek, and then went to his room

Justin arrived at the hospital after breakfast the next day. He'd brought his to-do list and Brian's mail. After checking Brian's room and finding it empty, he went to the therapy room and found Brian walking slowly toward the mat table. He was still using his walker. Justin walked to the table and sat in a nearby chair.

"Hey you," he said as Brian noticed him sitting in the chair.

"You're late. Thought maybe you weren't coming," Brian remarked.

"Of course not, I'm here. I just had a shit load of stuff to do. I went by your place and picked up your mail, too." Jose waved Justin over to the mat, and Justin picked up Brian's ankle and began the range of motion exercises.

"I think I'll hire you as my delivery boy," Brian teased. "On second thought, I'd better not, because then I'd never get rid of you."

"You're a natural, Justin. If you ever get tired of the art thing, you could always make a living as a therapist," Jose remarked as he watched the gentle but strong way Justin moved Brian's limbs through the motions of the exercise.

"Nah, I think I'll stick to the art." Justin picked up Brian's other leg and completed the motions.

"You did really well this morning. I think we'll try the cane this afternoon." Jose helped Brian up from the mat table and placed him in his wheelchair. "Do you want to go sit in the sun room?"

"Okay. Justin, why don't you bring your sketch pad and work. Bring me my mail and a magazine, Newsweek would be good." Brian waved his hand toward his room and Justin left to retrieve the items.

Justin sat in a chair facing Brian, watching him read his magazine. Brian occasionally would place his thumb to his front teeth and then absently put it down in his lap. Justin concentrated on his sketch, oblivious to Brian's surreptitious glances his way. Brian watched Justin, marveling at the young man's concentration and skill.

"Don't you ever get tired of drawing me?" Brian asked.

Without looking up, Justin said, "No. I feel something different every time I draw you. Strong emotions are the artists' best inspiration, and you evoke very strong emotions in me." He smudged an area with his thumb.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Justin shrugged.

"Why is that?"

Justin put down his pencil, letting it rest on the drawing pad, and looked at Brian. I think this falls under talking and I didn't even start the conversation. Maybe he really is ready to change.

Justin got up from his seat and walked over to the window, watching the cars pass by. It was almost lunch time, and the traffic was picking up. "You're an intense person, Brian. You intimidate people."

"I see. I don't intimidate you," Brian observed. "Yet, you think I'm intense."

"No, you don't intimidate me. I see the real Brian behind the façade." Justin continued to look out the window, preferring not to face Brian. "There's a caring man underneath your tough exterior."

Up to this point, Brian had accepted Justin's need for space, but wheeled his chair next to Justin, reaching out his hand to touch Justin's arm.

"Look at me, Justin."

Turning, Justin looked at Brian.

"You're one of the strongest men I know. You don't need me for inspiration."

Justin leaned down, placing a small kiss on Brian's lips as he whispered, "Yes, I do need you and I always will." Justin stood up and walked behind Brian's chair. "Time for us to go back to your room. It's almost lunch time, and you don't want to miss the wonderful food." Justin gave Brian his sketch pad to hold and he pushed Brian back to his room.

Shortly after they arrived, the dietary aide brought Brian's tray. Justin arranged the bed cart so that Brian could eat from his wheelchair.

"A turkey sandwich. How novel. I wonder if they can screw that up, too." Brian said and then bit into the sandwich. "The bread is a little stale, but not bad. Wish Daphne would show up again with food from the diner. I never thought I'd associate the Liberty Diner with good food, but it's better than the crap they serve here."

A knock on the door interrupted before Justin could respond.

"Come in," Brian called.

"Dada! Dada!" Gus called out as he raced to Brian's chair. Gus stopped at the chair and looked at Brian. "Why are you wearing a bathrobe at lunchtime? And why are you in that funny chair?"

Brian put down his sandwich, motioning for Justin to move the bed cart. "Come here, Sonny Boy," Brian motioned for Gus to come closer. "Can you climb in my lap?"

"Brian, do you think that's a good idea?" Lindsay asked, frowning slightly.

Brian looked at Gus, pretending to frown and pout his lips. "What do you think, Sonny Boy? Think you can be a big boy and climb up here?" He patted his lap.

Gus looked between Lindsay and Brian and nodded his head. "Sure, Dada. Momma says I'm getting bigger all the time." Gus climbed gently on Brian's lap and gave Brian a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Why are you in the hospital? Are you sick? Sick people go in the hospital. Jack, my friend at school, said his grandpa went in the hospital and died. You're not going to die, are you?" Gus asked rapidly and gave Brian another kiss.

Brian kissed the top of Gus's head while he held the boy around his waist, preventing him from slipping from his precarious perch.

"No, Sonny Boy, I'm not going to die. I fell down and got hurt, but I'm getting better every day."

Gus thought for a few minutes as he scrutinized Brian's face and body. "Didn't they put any band aids on your hurts? Mommy always says that bandaids make the boo-boos go away."

Brian smiled at the innocence of his child. "I had some band aids, but the doctors took them off."

Gus nodded his head in understanding. "So if the boo-boos are gone, why are you sitting in that funny chair, Dada? And how come you get to wear your pajamas? You always make me get dressed."

Brian rolled his eyes. He's my kid, alright. Full of questions, and wants an answer to everything. I don't want to frighten him, but I have to tell him something. "I was hurt for a long time and my legs are tired. I'll be good as new soon, and then we can go to the park."

"The park. Yeah! Did I tell you that my friend Peter has a new soccer ball and we went to the park the other day and played?" Gus rattled off. He smiled at the memory. "His dad said I was really good and asked me where I learned to play. I told him my Dada taught me." Gus squeezed Brian's neck with his arms. "Maybe you could show Peter how to kick the ball and we could play together." Gus kissed Brian and turned at the laughter in the room. "Jus!" he yelled as he scrambled off Brian's lap and ran to wrap his arms around Justin's knee caps.

"Hey Gus," Justin said as he bent down to hug Brian's son.

"I thought you were in Nude York. Momma said you were busy painting and couldn't come over to play. Can you come over and play? Momma bought me some new chalk and I've been making pretty pictures on the sidewalk. When it rains, they go away. It's sad." Gus peered out the window and turned around again to face the adults. " It isn't raining now and we could use my new chalk. I'd share. I'm good at sharing. My teacher gives me pretty gold stars when I share with Tommy and Angela. They're my friends. Maybe they can come over and play too. They'd like you, Jus." Gus enthused to Justin.

"Woah, Sonny Boy. Slow down." Brian grinned as he looked at his son.

"I can't come play now, Gus. I'm going to New York. New, not nude. Nude is when you take your clothes off- like when you take a bath," Justin explained as he ruffled Gus' hair.

Gus nodded in understanding. "New York. Okay."

"But I'll be back in a few days. I promise to come over when I get back and we can draw chalk pictures."

"I'm going to New York to see Justin's pictures," Lindsay told Gus. "When I get back, we'll invite Justin over for dinner. Does that sound like a good idea?"

Gus smiled. "Can we make spaghetti? I like spaghetti."

"I think that can be arranged." Lindsay bent down and whispered in Gus' ear as she pointed to his back pack on the floor.

Gus walked over to the back pack and looked through it. Gently, he pulled out a piece of paper and brought it over to Brian. "Dada, I made you something," he said as he handed Brian the piece of paper.

"You did? Well, let's see." Brian opened the folded paper and saw a picture of two stick figures holding hands and a little stick figure standing beside them.

"That's you and Justin and me," Gus explained. "This is the loft." He pointed to a big building in the background.

"Thank you, Sonny Boy. I'll have Justin hang it on the wall," Brian said as he held out the picture.

The dietary aide knocked on the door, and Brian told her to come in.

"Are you finished with lunch, sir?"

"Oh, Brian, we interrupted your lunch. I'm sorry," Lindsay apologized.

"No apologies, Linds. Justin can get me another stale sandwich. The ones in the cafeteria aren't any better then this one." Brian motioned toward the tray. "Yes, I'm done." The aide took the tray away.

"Gus, tell your daddy goodbye. We have to go to the gallery for Momma to pick up some papers," Lindsay instructed as she picked up Gus's back pack.

Gus went to Brian's wheelchair and attempted to hug Brian. "Bye, Dada. Get your legs better so we can go to the park."

Brian leaned forward and kissed Gus' head. "Bye, Sonny Boy. See you soon."

Lindsay walked to Brian's chair and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care, Brian." As she was walking out of the room, she remembered. "Oh, Brian, I almost forgot. When is the flight to New York? Where do I pick up my ticket?"

"I had Cynthia change the ticket to you; you can get the confirmation online. The flight is Friday afternoon. There will be a limo to pick you up from the airport, take you to the hotel, and later to the opening. Tell the driver if you want him to stay while you're at the opening or pick you up later. Then, he'll pick you up on Saturday morning about 10:00 and take you back to the airport."

"Oh, Brian. Thank you," she said appreciatively and walked back to the chair to give him another kiss on the cheek. "I can't thank you enough."

"Didn't you say something about having papers to pick up?" Brian reminded Lindsay.

Lindsay smiled at Brian and walked over to Justin. "Bye Justin. I can't wait to see the show." She kissed him on the cheek and left with Gus.

"You're good with him. I've missed Gus so much. When I get back, I'll make sure to go over and see him," Justin smiled as he reviewed the conversation with Brian and Gus in his head.

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "What's to be good. I just take him to the park sometimes." Brian's stomach rumbled and Justin laughed.

Justin leaned down and kissed Brian on the cheek. "I guess that's my signal to find you another stale sandwich. Any preference?"

"Whatever you bring will be basically inedible, so no, I don't have a preference. Hurry though. I want to eat before Jose, the torturer returns." Brian's mouth turned up slightly as he waved Justin to the door. "And don't stop for a smoke. It's very distracting kissing you when you've smoked and I can't take a drag."

Justin frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Justin, sorry's bullshit. Remember that. Now go. I'm actually hungry."

Justin walked quickly to the cafeteria and purchased a turkey sandwich, an apple and a chocolate shake. I'll say the shake is for me, but I know he'll ask for some, and then I'll let him drink most of it. Brian is so funny. He takes food off my plate all the time, but won't order it for himself. Can't admit that he wants some ‘high fat, high calorie, totally non-nutritious food' in his body. He's such an enigma. Watches every morsel that goes in his mouth, but will pop a tab of E or take a hit of K without blinking an eye. Maybe when I come back, he'll slow down on the drugs... Yeah, like that'll happen. Justin returned with Brian's food and placed it on the dresser. He moved the bed cart to Brian's chair, and then placed the food on it.

"What is that?" Brian asked as he pointed to the shake.

"A chocolate shake. It sounded good. Want some?"

"A sip."

Justin handed the drink to Brian and left it conveniently on the tray. Just as he suspected, Brian drank about half the shake.

"Bring me that portfolio again. I need to pick out my latest Taylor original," Brian commanded.

Justin sighed loudly, but didn't argue. He dug in his messenger bag for the portfolio and handed it to Brian.

"What's your favorite piece?" Brian asked as he flipped though the pages.

Justin flipped to the next to last page of the book and stopped. "This one."

"Tell me about it," Brain said.

"Brian, you know I don't like to do that. Art is very personal, and each person interprets a piece in their own way," Justin explained.

"Tell me what you see."

"Okay," Justin said, resigned to the task. "I see hope. See how the darks colors at the bottom swirl into a tunnel, that opens up to a firework of bright lights. There's hope at the end of the tunnel."

"I can see that. Tell me why it's your favorite."

‘I'm an optimist, Brian. I think there is always hope, and a world without hope is something I can't imagine." Justin sat on the bed, looking at Brian as he viewed the picture.

"Good enough. Give me your phone and call your agent. I want to buy it before the show." Brian held out his hand toward Justin."

"You don't have to support me, Brian," Justin reminded him, but dug out his phone, found the number, and handed the ringing phone to Brian.

Brian was placed on hold and he said, "Give me my wallet. I'll need my card number."

Justin handed Brian his wallet and he dug out the credit card.

"Let me do this," Brian said as he put the ringing phone to his ear. "Yes. I would like to purchase a Justin Taylor painting. The one titled 'Hope'."

... "It's already sold," Brian repeated as he raised his eyebrows.

.... "'The Heat' is available. Hold on."

"Justin, show me your portfolio and the picture called 'The Heat'," Brian requested.

Justin flipped through the pictures and showed him 'The Heat'. This one was a conflagration of deep reds, oranges and yellows, spewing out of a deep cavern. Brian stared at it for a moment, and then spoke into the phone.

"I'll take it. My card number is 444-5555-6666. Expiration 6/07."

... "Deliver it to 55 Briton Drive. Wierton, W. Virginia."

... "I understand it won't be delivered until after the show. I want it insured."

"Thank you. Good bye." Brian flipped the phone closed.

"I can't believe you. You just bought a $10,000 painting!" Justin exclaimed.

"So? I like your work. Now come here and kiss me," Brian demanded.

Justin walked to Brian and kissed him on the lips. Their kiss quickly turned intimate, as Brian stuck his tongue in Justin's mouth and Justin reciprocated.

A knock on the door interrupted the two men. "Time to walk, Brian," Jose said as he turned the wheelchair towards the door. Turning around he asked, " Coming Justin?"

"Of course," he answered and followed the two men to the therapy room.

Later, Brian had completed his therapy, and Jose helped him to the mat. "You're progressing well. I'd say another four to five days and you can go home."

"Here that, Sunshine?" Brian smirked as Justin pick up his leg to begin the range of motion exercises.

"Will he need to do these exercises when he gets home? I don't remember doing physical therapy after I got home," Justin asked.

"You've had therapy before? What happened?"

"I got bashed in the head with a bat. I was in a coma for three weeks, and in the hospital for ten weeks. I had to relearn to use my hand," Justin stated as if the incident was no different than getting a cut finger. Justin picked up Brian's other leg and began the exercises on it.

Jose looked at the young man, watching him exercise Brian's limbs. "I didn't know. You've made a great recovery."

"I had a big incentive to get better. I needed to see this asshole," Justin grinned.

"Careful, Justin. You're tarnishing my wonderful reputation," Brian smirked.

Justin laughed. "I wouldn't exactly call it wonderful. Anyway, it worked out in the end."

"Time to get back in your chair, Brian" Jose lifted Brian, placing him in the chair and wheeling him back to the room. "You've been sitting all day and you're tired. I'm putting you back to bed." Jose placed Brian in bed and went to his chart to make notes of his session. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Jose," Justin said as he left the room. Justin turned toward Brian and noticed the man's eyes were closed. "Are you sleeping?" He whispered. Brian didn't open his eyes. Justin picked up his portfolio, placing it in his messenger bag. He picked up his sketch pad, drawing Brian as he peacefully slept.

Brian woke up an hour and a half later. "Shit. I fell asleep, didn't I?"

Justin nodded his head, "Yep. Don't worry. I used the time wisely. You make a great model when you sleep. You don't talk or move too much, especially when you're really tired."

"Whatever. Don't you have to leave and go pack for Nude York?"

"That was too funny. If only he knew how true it is. He's a little young, but one day he will just love Nude York." Justin looked at the clock behind Brian's bed. "I didn't want to leave while you were sleeping. I've still got half an hour until Daphne picks me up."

"Whatever shall we do with half an hour?" Brian said as he raised his eyebrows.

Justin licked his lips and sat on the bed, his back to the door. As before he pulled down Brian's blanket and assisted him to pull his pants down just below his groin. Brian's cock jutted out, hard and dripping.

"I guess you're getting better. Going from soft to rock hard in less then five seconds," Justin teased.

"I'll have you know that I'm never soft," Brian said adamantly as he pushed Justin's face towards his cock.

Justin licked his lips and bent his head down to Brian's cock. He licked the mushroom head, inhaling the scent of his lover. Swiping the shaft with long licks, he bathed the organ until it was wet with saliva. He used his hand to rub up and down the shaft, while he sucked the sensitive head in his mouth. Brian watched as Justin blew him, smiling at the sight of his lover worshipping his cock. He pushed Justin's head down, making his cock disappear into Justin's warm mouth. Justin increased his sucking as he stuck a finger in the side of his mouth, wetting it with saliva as well. He trailed the finger under Brian, finding his hole and playing with the opening. Slipping it in, he heard Brian grasp at the intrusion. Brian quickly moved his body up and down, matching Justin's moves on his cock. Justin felt the quivering on the shaft in his mouth, and the tightening of Brian's ass muscles on his finger as Brian shot down his throat. Justin sucked down all that Brian shot and continued to lick the cock for a few moments. Brian tugged on Justin's head, pulling him up for a kiss.

"Why, you are a clever artist. I think that was a wonderful way to use your time," Brian smirked. "Your turn."

Justin looked at the clock. "I'll take a rain check. Just think, you might get to go home by the time I come back." Justin picked up his messenger bag and walked back to the bed. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to Brian's. "Later," he said.

"Later." Brian repeated as he watched Justin leave his room.

Justin went down to the hospital circle and waited for Daphne. Opening the car door as she stopped in the circle, he tossed his messenger bag into the back as usual.

"Had a good day?" she asked.

"Pretty good. I blew Brian again this afternoon. Can't keep a good man down." Justin grinned at his clever retort.

"One of these days, you'll get caught. Then what will you do?"

Justin pushed the radio on and pulled down the visor on his side of the car to search for a CD. "Part of the fun is the blatancy of the act. I guess it is a gay thing," Justin mused. "What are they going to do? Kick him out. Arrest him?" Justin put the CD in the slot, watching as it got sucked into the machine. " Sorry sir, you're being arrested for public nudity," Justin giggled as he tried to say the line in a deep, serious voice.

"Why, Sir. I'm in a fucking hospital gown. Of course, it's indecent," Justin mimicked Brian's snark.

Daphne giggled. "Okay. Whatever, but still you two have no sense of decency."

Justin shrugged. "So, I got to pack tonight, but that shouldn't take long. Want to do something?"

Daphne shook her head. "Sorry, Justin. My friend, Cecelia called last week and asked me to attend a Party Lite party."

"What the fuck is a Party Lite party?" Justin asked as he looked at his friend.

"Party Lite is a candle company. They make those great candles that you're always raving about. You could join me if you want."

"No thanks. I probably should rest up. This weekend will be very long, and I need to be at my best for my fans. Speaking of fans, Brian tried to buy one of my pieces and the gallery told him it was sold. I can't believe I'm selling pieces even before the show opens!"

Daphne play slapped his arm as she maneuvered through traffic. "You are good, Justin. I told you that at your show. It's only a matter of time until all your paintings will be sold before you open a show." Daphne put on her blinker and exited off the highway. "Want me to stop at the video store since you'll be on your own?"

"Nah. I'm feeling creative. Maybe I'll do some drawing. I know I won't get a chance for a few days."

"Okay. I've got to be at Cecelia's at 7:00, so I just have time to change and then I'm off," she said as she pulled into a parking spot.

Justin took out his messenger bag and followed Daphne into the apartment. She ran into her room, changing clothes quickly as he went to the bathroom to shower. When he walked out of the bathroom, she was gone and he was alone.

He went to the kitchen and put a pizza in the oven and grabbed a bottle of Stromboh beer. While the pizza cooked, he grabbed his suitcase and started to pack.

"Damn! All my stuff is at my apartment in New York. Guess I really don't need to pack after all. I'll just put my toiletry bag in my messenger bag and go."

The timer on the oven dinged, and Justin got out the pizza. He cut it in half, placing the other half in the refrigerator, and then ate the pizza as he reviewed his list of things-to-do in New York. After cleaning his plate and putting his dishes in the dishwasher, he went back to the living room, pulling out his sketch pad and began drawing a picture of Gus sitting on Brian's lap.

_____________________________________________

Brian was alone and awake for the first time since his accident. His mind wandered. I used to enjoy my solitary nights in the loft, working on presentations, and then leaving late to catch a drink with the boys at Woodys or Babylon, but that was a lifetime ago. When did my drinking become a way to get through the night? Justin's right. He can see through me so easily. I need to be careful around him.

My days are now filled with therapy, visits from "family", and sleep. Lots of sleep. At least this time, I didn't have to lose a G-d damn ball to cancer! Of course, this time I have a new scar, a Frankenstein one that goes from the inside of my thigh clear down to my ankle. No more pickups at the gym for me. No guy would ever look twice at my package with that glaring at him. I still have Babylon. Like Justin said, it's dark in the back room and I'm always the top, so the trick wouldn't get a chance to see the evidence. Even if I want my dick sucked, I don't have to drop trou.

And of course, Justin. My days are filled with Justin. My stalker. No, not really, more like my Prince. Why can't I tell him what he wants to hear? It's not like I haven't told him before. He knows I love him, and hell, I asked him to marry me! I'm vulnerable around him...and that scares the shit out of me.

He wants to move back. I know it. I see it written all over his face. Part of me would love for him to be here, but another part of me knows he needs to be in New York. Shit. Life is not supposed to be this complicated.

"Who says it's not supposed to be complicated?" Vic said as he stood by my door.

"Shit. I'm dreaming again. I know I'm not dead!"

"No. You're not dead," Vic said as he walked into the room. "So, you survived this one. Learn anything, Brian?"

"What the fuck does that mean? Did I learn anything?" Brian answered, though he knew the vision wasn't real.

"Did the drugs and drinking help? Did they make the pain go away?" Vic clarified.

"I like to drink, and drugs are fun. Why am I making excuses to you? You weren't ever any poster child for the 'Just Say No' campaign", Brian chastised Vic.

"True. I never said I was, but I never overdosed and ended up on dialysis because I wouldn't admit how I felt," Vic reminded Brian.

"Is there some secret archive in the afterlife that lets you know all my shit?" Brian snarked. "Because if not, then you're just guessing and pulling straws out of your ass."

"Brian... You've always trusted me. Why don't you trust me now?" Vic asked.

"I guess... You were the only one who never hounded me. You're the closest I ever had to a real dad," Brian admitted. Brian watched Vic walk to his bed and sit down. "You know, I didn't think the dead got tired," Brian joked.

"We don't. It's just that I'd like to look at you from the same level, and standing feels like I'm lecturing," Vic explained.

"But you are lecturing," Brian reminded him.

"No. Not really. I'm just reflecting. You know the answers, Brian. You just have to be ready to act on them," Vic said as he smiled. "Sorry, my time is up."

"You're time is up. What, the dead still have to watch the clock? That sucks. Well, thanks I guess."

"Brian, you've been given a second chance. Don't waste it." Vic stood and walked out of the room.

Brian shook his head, clearing the vision and semi-awake dream from his head. "That is some crazy shit," he said out loud.

The aide knocked on the door. She placed the tray on the bed cart and brought it to Brian's bed. "Dinner. I'll be back in a while to pick up the empties."

"Thanks," Brian answered as he sat up in bed to eat his dinner.

Brian ate a few bites of his dinner, but left most on the tray. Picking up the remote, he flipped on the television and looked for something that might hold his interest. He heard a knock on the door.

"Come in! If you're here to pick up the tray, I'm done," he yelled as he flipped passed ESPN.

"I'm not here for your food tray, but I did bring you some leftovers from my latest cooking party! I'm trying out new recipes for the summer wedding season, and I have to see what works," Emmett gushed.

"Em... what brings you to this part of the world?" Brian asked as he flipped off the television.

"I thought you could use a little company, and I know that hospital food will kill you. Why, my Aunt Lula used to bring her homemade cherry pie to every one of her friends when they were sick. She said that hospital food wasn't fit for a dog. And seeing how I was trying out new recipes, I thought I would let you taste some, too. Wouldn't want you to feel left out." Emmett pulled the cart over toward him and proceeded to empty the large bag he brought with him. Inside the bag were small containers of food which he placed on the tray. He rolled the tray back to the bed so Brian could easily reach it.

"There you are. I'm sure these morsels will be much better than that dinner."

Brian picked up his fork and dipped it in the first dish he saw, tentatively bringing it up to his mouth. He sniffed it, and then took a bite. He was pleasantly surprised.

"Not bad, Honeycutt. What is this?"

"Oh, that is just a little salmon cake I cooked up. Isn't it just divine? That one's been a big hit with everyone. I'm sure I'll make a lot of those this summer." Emmett pulled a chair over to the bed and waited for Brian to taste some additional dishes.

"I'm not a lab rat. Don't watch me eat," Brian chided him.

"Sorry. I'll just run down the hall and get a soda. I'll be right back. Now, I want you to try everything. You are looking skinnier then ever," Emmett directed. Emmett left the room, going to the soda machine at the end of the hallway.

Brian tentatively took several bites from the other dishes before Emmett returned. These aren't bad, actually; Emmett can really cook.

Emmett returned, sitting down in the chair and popping the top of his drink. "So?"

"They're good. I guess you finally found your true queer calling." Brian took another bite. "So tell me, why are you really here?"

"To see how you're doing... and to offer some advice."

"I didn't ask for your advice," Brian said gruffly.

"I know, but I'm here, so I'll give it to you anyway." Emmett ignored the frown lines on Brian's forehead, and plugged away with his little speech. "Brian, remember when Teddy was slipping down the slippery slope of ‘Tina'?" Emmett asked, hoping he wouldn't have to go into a lot of detail.

"Yes."

"Do you remember what you told me at Babylon that night?" Emmett started packing up the sample dishes on Brian's tray.

Brian put down his fork and pushed the cart away from the bed. "What's your point, Honeycutt? I don't like playing twenty questions," Brian asked pointedly. He frowned, and placed his fore and index finger at the bridge of his nose and pressed.

"You told me to forget him, that he was dead, and I was so mad at you. But then we danced, and I realized that you really cared that I didn't get hurt." Emmett wiped the moisture from his eyes.

"So?" Brian sighed loudly.

"I just wanted you to know that I care, Brian. You really scared me. Please get some help." Emmett placed the last of the dishes into his big bag.

Brian scooted down in the bed and pulled the covers up. "That's it? That's what you wanted to tell me?"

"That's it." Emmett waved his hand in a flip.

Brian grumbled, "Well, I don't need any help. I'm tired, so I think you need to go."

‘Okay. I'll just take the containers and get out of your hair."

"That's an excellent idea." Brian closed his eyes and listened for Emmett's departure.

When he didn't hear anymore sounds from Emmett, he reopened his eyes and sat up in bed. Why is it that everyone thinks they can lecture me and give me advice just because I'm in this damn hospital? They say things they would never say to me before, and think they can get away with it. As Mikey would say, "I'm Brian Fucking Kinney," and I don't need anyone to lecture me. Jesus!

Brian picked up the remote and flipped through the channels a second time. He finally found an old James Dean movie and watched it for awhile. When the commercials came on, he looked at Gus's picture hanging on the wall in front of him. Sonny boy. Even you are trying to tell me things in your own little six year old way. You, me and Justin in front of the loft. I wonder if your mommy told you to draw that; I doubt it. Your mommy feels that Justin should be in New York, and your momma hates my guts. There are times when I wonder what came over me when I agreed to provide my jizz to your mommy. I never thought I would want a kid, but you've been the best part of my life- you and Justin. I love you more than I ever thought possible. Justin thinks I make a great dad, and you seem to worship me. Wonder what you'd think of your old man if you really knew the truth? Maybe Vic is right and I've been given a second chance with you. I'll take you to that park and we'll play soccer. I'll even teach your friend to play. Wonder if his daddy is aware that Dada is queer? Guess he might if he knows your mommies are cwazy wesbians. Oh well, that is their hang-up, not mine. I've got enough on my plate without worrying if your friend's parents care if I'm queer.

Brian watched the rest of the movie, and then turned off the television. He pushed the button for the nurse, who assisted him to use the restroom before he went to bed. He turned down the lights and fell into a deep sleep.

__________________________

Daphne came home about 9:00 and saw Justin in the living room sitting on the couch, sketch pad in his lap, biting his lower lip as he drew his picture. Walking over to the couch, she looked at the picture.

"How sweet! Brian really loves that little guy. Hard to believe that someone like Brian is a father," she remarked.

Justin looked up from his sketching and put down his pencil. "What do you mean? Brian is a great dad," Justin defended his lover.

Daphne sat down on the couch, turning to look at Justin. "Oh, I didn't mean he wasn't a good dad. It's just, Brian and fatherhood doesn't seem to belong in the same universe. He's a high-powered CEO of his own advertising company who lives by his own rules, no apologies, no regrets, and yet he agreed to provide sperm to his lesbian friend so she could be a mom. He parties, drinks, and has anonymous sex with a zillion guys. It's just not the picture that society has of fatherhood."

"True, but gay mothers and fathers aren't societal norm, either," Justin countered.

"I'm not trying to start an argument, Justin. I like Brian, most of the time. It's just that if I didn't know him, I wouldn't think he was father material. You've said yourself, Brian didn't expect to have anything to do with Gus, that he was only supplying the sperm to Lindsay,' Daphne reminded him. "Want a beer?" she asked as she walked toward the kitchen.

"Sure." Justin picked up his pencil and put some finishing touches on the picture. "How was the party?"

"Fun. I bought a ton of candles!" She returned to the living room with the beers and took a drink from her bottle as she placed Justin's on a coaster. "You packed?"

Justin turned the portrait around, showing it to Daphne. "I'm bringing this to the hospital tomorrow. They have this really neat cork strip in the patient's rooms for them to hang cards and stuff on, and I'm going to hang it up for Brian."

"How sweet! Gus is just adorable... I can't believe he's going to be seven in a few months."

Answering Daphne's earlier question, Justin continued, "I didn't really have much to pack except my toiletries. All my show-worthy stuff is in New York. I hadn't realized how little I have here. I might try to bring some stuff back with me when I come back. Is that okay?"

"Are you sure? Are you planning on living with Brian when he gets out of the hospital? You know, you two don't have the best track record of living together, and he'll need a lot of attention."

Justin put his sketch pad in his messenger bag, and picked up his beer. He took a deep breath and drank half the bottle before answering. "That is exactly why I need to be at the loft. He's made it really clear that I'm here to be the gatekeeper. I can't do that if I'm living with you. You know that once he's home, there will be a constant barrage of people wanting a piece of him. Michael, Debbie, not to mention Cynthia and Ted. At least Cynthia and Ted will call first and make sure he's up to seeing them, but Debbie and Michael- they will come whenever they want, and stay forever. He needs his rest, and I want to be there."

"Okay, point taken, but..."

"But what?" Justin asked again.

"What happens when he's recovered?"

"I'm taking this one day at a time, Daph. I want to move back here and paint. I'm going to talk to my agent when I go this weekend. I paint, he talks to galleries. It's different than in the beginning where I had to go from gallery to gallery, selling myself and my work. I can easily send him shots of my work if the galleries want a sample. Its not like he's going to carry my canvases all over town," Justin explained. Justin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Can you take me to the hospital in the morning? My mom is picking me up there and taking us to the airport."

"Sure. Good night, Justin."

"Night, Daphne," Justin replied as he stood up and walked to his room.

In the morning, he showered and ate a quick breakfast. Daphne was up and ready by the time he placed his toiletries in his messenger bag. She made good time driving through rush hour traffic, and dropped him at the hospital.

"Good luck with the show, Justin. Say hi to Brian, and give him a kiss for me."

Justin laughed. "I'll give him a kiss but he won't like it. He prefers tongue when he kisses me," Justin teased as he kissed her cheek.

"Eww." Daphne stuck her tongue out at Justin as he reached for his messenger bag. "See you on Saturday."

Justin went up to the fifth floor and walked to Brian's room. He was sitting in a regular chair, and had a cane by his side. Justin placed his messenger bag by the door and walked to Brian, leaning down giving him a kiss on the cheek. "That's from Daphne," he explained as he saw Brian's perplexed face. Bending down again, he gave Brian a proper kiss, with tongue. After a few moments, he straightened up. "That's from me. Good morning. I take it Jose has been here, since you have a cane now."

"Yep, been and gone. Fucker got me up just after I finished by lovely lukewarm eggs and over cooked coffee. I can't wait to go back to the loft, just so you can cook me a decent breakfast," Brian complained. Brian looked around and saw Justin's messenger bag. "Aren't you leaving for ‘Nude York' this morning? I distinctly remember you telling me you were going to talk to your agent, and get ready for a fabulous art show."

"'Nude York'? Huh," Justin laughed. "I think I like that name. Yes, I'm leaving, but all my stuff is still in ‘Nude York', and all I really need is my toiletry kit and that's in my messenger bag. I'll have to go by my apartment and get anything else there that I need," Justin explained.

Brian stood up, and walked to the table where his work lay. He picked up a few magazines and walked slowly back to the chair.

"You did that well. Are you supposed to walk when Jose isn't with you?" Justin asked.

"He gave me the damn cane. Of course I can walk without him being in the room. I'm not an invalid, Justin! So what are your plans?"

Justin looked at Brian quizzically. "Plans? I don't understand."

"What time is mother Taylor picking you up?"

"Oh. About 11:00. I figured I'd keep you company until I have to leave; after all you won't have my charming personality and wit for three whole days," Justin kidded.

"I have work to do. You can stay if you want, but it's not necessary."

A knock on the door, interrupted their conversation.

"Come in," Brian called out.

"Mr. Kinney?" the thirty-something brunette asked as she walked into the room, and looked at Brian.

"That's me."

"I'm Karen Trian, and Dr. Moya asked me to come speak with you." She held out her hand to Brian, but he didn't shake it.

"I gave that other lady my insurance information. What else does the hospital need?" Brian groused.

"I work in the CD unit."

"What the fuck is a CD unit?" Brian snarked.

"Chemical Dependency. We treat people with addictions," she explained. She flipped through a file of papers and reviewed them before continuing. "According to your medical chart, you were brought in from an overdose of alcohol and street drugs. Now that you are medically stable, Dr. Moya would like you transferred to the CD unit to address your alcohol and drug use."

Justin felt a cold chill move through his body and a huge knot grow in his stomach. Shit! This woman is telling Brian he has a problem with alcohol and drugs. He's going to throw a fit! You do not tell Brian Kinney he has any sort of problem and live to tell about it.

"I don't have a problem with alcohol," Brian refuted.

You didn't say drugs. Your father was a drunk, and your mother is too. In school we had a DARE course about drugs and alcohol, and the statistics show that if your parents abuse drugs or alcohol, you're at a much higher risk to be an addict yourself. Shit! I'm doing my public service announcement shtick again. But, maybe this woman has a point. Brian does drink a lot, and God knows he uses drugs all the time. Maybe it's pain management, but still. Could he have a real problem? I don't know if I could handle him being an addict. Stop it- I can handle anything. I love him, and I told him I'd help him. If he needs to do this, I'll stand by his side. Shit! I guess I could give up drugs and alcohol if I needed to. Babylon wouldn't be as much fun, but if Brian was there, he'd be the only drug I'd needed. Funny, how I think of him as a drug. I'm addicted to my boyfriend. Better not say that out loud, or he'll kick me so far out of his life, I'll never see him again.

Tuning back into the conversation, Justin realized that Brian was becoming increasingly angry.

"You overdosed. I would say that was a problem," Karen reminded him. "I have some paperwork for you to look at and fill out. I'll be back in a little while to finalize the transfer."

"The hell you will! I am not going to any fucking treatment program! I do not fucking have a problem with alcohol or drugs!" he yelled as he threw the papers in the trash. "Don't bother coming back because I'm not going anywhere, but home to my loft!"

"I'll share that with Dr. Moya. I'll see you soon, Mr. Kinney." Karen left another set of papers on the table and walked out of the room.

"That bitch! Thinks she can strong arm me into some fucking loser rehab ward! I'm not a fucking addict. I have a successful advertising business that cleared over three million dollars last year. Addicts can't hold jobs and are total losers. What the fuck does she know?"

A knock interrupted them again.

"Come in and join the fucking party," Brian yelled.

Jennifer walked in and gave Justin a hug and kiss. "Hello, Sweetie. Where's your bag? I thought you were bringing it with you." Jennifer said as she looked around the hospital room. Justin gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged her back. "Hi mom. You're early. I didn't think you were coming until 11:00."

She walked over to Brian, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hello Brian. Glad to see you're doing better. Oh, I got done early at the office. My client came in early to sign the papers, so I decided to come see Brian."

"Oh," Justin remarked.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. We were just talking. Do you think you could wait in the visitor's lounge for a few minutes while we finish our conversation?" Justin asked.

"Sure sweetie. If I don't get a chance to come back, Brian, feel better." Jennifer left the room and walked down to the visitor's lounge.

"Jesus! It's fucking circus around here. And I do not belong in the fucking CD unit!" Brian reiterated.

"Okay. Calm down. She suggested it. It isn't mandatory. Shit, Brian. What are you going to do?"

"Do? Nothing. I'm going to do my therapy with Jose and when you come back, you will take me home to the loft. That bitch, Karen is not part of the equation. Now, run along to your show. I'll be here when you get back." Brian waved his hand toward Justin, shooing him out the door.

"Can I get you anything before I leave?"

Brian's eyes twinkled. "How about a blow job? Your mom was early."

Justin blushed. "I am not giving you a blow job. I do, however, love you. Have a good afternoon. Sorry I can't stay and keep the evil people away," Justin apologized.

"Sorry's bullshit. Now go."

Justin walked over to Brian and leaned his forehead against Brian's. "Later," he said as he gently kissed Brian on the lips.

Brian returned the kiss and opened his mouth, exploring Justin's sweet taste. They kissed for several minutes, before Brian pulled away. He leaned his head against Justin's forehead and repeated their mantra. "Later." He watched Justin pick up his messenger bag and leave the room.

Justin walked to the visitor's lounge, motioning to his mom that he was ready to leave. They walked to the parking lot and his Mom's car, and Justin placed his bag on the back seat. Jennifer put on her seat belt and watched as Justin did the same. She briefly remembered the car ride not so many years ago where she asked Justin about " this Brian". Her little boy was not so little any more, he was a man. He was traveling to the Big Apple for his very own art show. His lover, a title that she only recently bestowed on Brian, was in the hospital, recovering from an accidental overdose. She was glad that Brian appeared to be recovering from the incident, but she was scared for her son. She had grown to like and accept Brian in Justin's life, but she didn't want her son to go down that road; Justin had dealt with more than most people could handle in their entire lives. If Brian had an addiction problem, it would be just one more thing that Justin would have to deal with. She knew Justin was strong and that his love for Brian was immeasurable, but addicts could be scary. They had to decide if they wanted to change. No amount of therapy or magic pills could fix the problem. She couldn't change Justin or Brian, and she knew that she would support Justin, no matter what his decision. She just hoped that he wasn't throwing away his life and career over a man that was as unpredictable as the rain.

She realized that she'd been thinking almost the whole ride to the airport, and that Justin probably thought something was wrong. She'd better remedy that before they got into another argument. This was a really big event in Justin's young life, and she wanted to enjoy it.

"Justin, I'm so proud of you. I can't wait to see your show," she gushed.

"Mom, I've had other shows." Justin looked out the window as he absently answered.

"I know, but this one is almost a solo one. You must be very excited."

"I am. Sam, my agent, said this show will make me a major name in the art world. Even though it isn't a solo show, the other artist is already well known. Being shown with him is automatic acceptance," Justin explained as his voice got a little excited.

"I didn't know that, honey. That's wonderful! Changing the subject, what are your plans for this weekend?"

Justin turned toward his mother and turned down the radio a little. "When we land, I'll take a bus to Sam's office. I've got a three o'clock appointment with him. After I leave there, I'll go to my apartment and start packing. I need to get a few boxes so I can box up my supplies. I can't afford to buy all new paints and brushes, besides, I really like the set I have here."

"Where are you going to paint in Pittsburgh ?" Jennifer asked innocently, not wanting to delve into the multitude of other questions she was dying to ask. What she really wanted to know if he planned on ever returning to New York. Did he intend to live with Brian? She assumed he would be there while Brian recuperated, but was that a permanent situation? Did he have the money to rent a studio? Was he planning on working when he returned? She knew he had a part time job in New York as a waiter, so he could pay his bills. He couldn't work if he was taking care of Brian. Although, she wasn't sure what type of help Brian would really need. According to Justin, he was already walking with a cane, and he was supposed to be released in a few days. Was Justin's idea of returning to Pittsburgh to help Brian premature? She couldn't ask any of these things, but she hoped that Justin would drop enough information so she could put a together a picture of the situation.

"I'm not sure. I can't paint in the loft, there's not room. Besides, I'm messy when I paint, and Brian would have a fit if I got paint on his white Italian leather couches."

"I see." Jennifer signaled to get off the highway, and pulled into the long term parking lot. She got her parking ticket, parked, and then retrieved her bag from the trunk. They boarded an airport shuttle on the lot, and it took them to the main terminal.

"Thanks for coming, mom," Justin said as they stood in line to check her bag.

"You're welcome." She handed the agent her plane ticket and ID, and they tagged her bag. "Let's stop at the store so I can pick up a magazine. I was so busy planning your sister's party that I forgot to buy something to read on the flight."

"What's so big about this party? It seems like you've been spending more time planning it than most of her other parties." Justin rolled his eyes. "It's just a birthday."

"It's her sixteenth birthday, Justin," Jennifer said as if that explained everything.

"Sixteenth? Okay, so Mollusk can drive now, but other than that, what is the big deal?" He asked as he watched her flip through several magazines, trying to choose one.

She put the magazine down and walked over to the book section of the store. "A girl's sixteenth birthday is a big deal, Justin. While we don't have the big debutante balls that some people do, she is still coming out, and it's a big deal," Jennifer explained. Seeing the puzzled look on Justin's face, she continued. "While Molly isn't ready to look for a husband or take her place in society as an adult, she is old enough now to start thinking about her life. She needs to think about growing up, and her sixteenth birthday is a time for her to meet other young women, and men, who will be influential in those decisions."

Justin shook his head. "I'm glad I'm not a girl. Sheesh. It was bad enough avoiding all those homophobic assholes that I went to school with. I can't imagine being introduced to society leeches and having to deal with them, too."

"Justin," Jennifer admonished. "Keep your voice down."

Justin rolled his eyes, but didn't continue his speech. "Have you found something to read? I want to sleep on the plane. These last few weeks have been really tiring."

"I'm sorry, Justin." Jennifer smiled briefly and took Justin's hand in her own, giving it a squeeze.

"Sorry's bu.." Justin started to say, but caught himself, laughing. "Come on, Mom. We need to get down to the gate."

Jennifer took two books and a magazine to the counter and paid for them. They walked to the security area and passed through the scanners. Justin had his bag checked by hand, carefully watching the guard as he leafed through the bag.

They walked in silence to the gate area, stood in line to get their boarding passes, and sat down to wait. The flight attendants called for boarding about forty five minutes later, and they found their seats on the plane. Justin placed his messenger bag under the seat and retrieved his MP3 player. After the flight attendant gave the safety instructions, Justin grabbed a blanket and pillow from the overhead bin and settled in. When the flight was airborne, he turned on his music and quickly fell asleep.

The flight was uneventful, and they arrived on time, an unusual event. Justin gave his mom a quick kiss and hailed her a taxi.

"I'm staying at the Westin. After your show tomorrow, maybe we can have dinner," Jennifer stated as she waited for the cab.

"I can't make promises Mom, but we'll talk at the show. Good luck finding a present for Molly." He opened the cab door as the yellow cab came to a halt at the curb. He closed the door and watched the cab drive off, then turned toward the subway to take his own ride to his appointment.

_______________________________

Brian looked at the clock above his bed and saw that it was almost lunch time. Jose had come early this morning; therefore he probably would be back right after lunch. That would give him the remainder of the day to work. He wanted to get started on the new campaign for Pool Boy cooler. They were really vile, but as he promised, their market share had increased by 20%, and he had been awarded a second year on the contract. The contract had been renewed every year since. He took out his notes and reviewed the last campaign, trying to come up with a new idea for this year.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Kinney."

"Come in," he yelled and looked to see who was at the doorway. "And you are?" he snarked as he looked at the middle age man with balding hair. The man, dressed in a button down shirt obviously from somewhere in the mall and a tie that looked out of date by at least five years, held a hospital chart in his hands and he looked through the file, flipping pages as he appeared to scan the information.

"I'm Charles Moray. I'm a therapist, and Karen Trian asked me to meet with you."

"I already told that bitch that I don't have a problem, and I don't need to go to a Chemical Dependency unit. Now why don't you take your psychobabble and your diagnoses and leave me alone. I have work to do."

"I see. Unfortunately, hospital policy requires that I sign off on your paperwork before you are discharged, so you will have to talk to me for a few minutes," Charles explained as he pulled a chair and positioned it opposite Brian.

Brian sighed loudly and put his papers on the table beside him. "Whatever. Talk fast. I'm busy."

"Mr. Kinney, according to your chart, you were brought in from an overdose of alcohol and the street drug, Ketamine. Is that correct?"

"What the fuck? Is this a court of law? I'm not answering a thing until I call my fucking lawyer."

"This is not a court of law and you don't need a lawyer. There are no legal issues here. We're just concerned with your medical and emotional prognosis. Now I repeat: Were you brought into this facility due to an overdose from alcohol and Ketamine?"

"I wasn't awake, but that's what they tell me," Brian said snidely.

Charles flipped to a chart in the front of a yellow tabbed section, and clicked his pen. "Do you drink often?"

"What do you mean, often?" Brian asked as he tried to evade the answer.

Charles looked up at Brian, watching as Brian ran his hand through his hair. "I mean, do you drink every day or every other day?"

Brian thought for a moment and said, "No. I don't drink every day."

Charles marked the answer on the paper and asked the second questions. "When you drink, are you able to stop drinking?"

"Of course! What a stupid question." Brian frowned at the question.

"Do you get drunk when you drink?" Charles watched as Brian took his thumb and forefinger and pressed the bridge of his nose.

"Sometimes."

"What about drugs. Do you use drugs often?"

"I use them sometimes, not every day. And yes, I can stop when I want."

"Have you ever thought you used drugs too much, or drank too much?"

Brian fidgeted in his chair and answered, "No."

Charles continued on to the next question. He kept his voice non-accusatory, and asked the questions as if he were reading the ingredients to a beef stew. "Have you ever tried to stop drinking or using drugs?"

Brian pushed his fingers tighter into his bridge as he answered that question. "No."

"If you were at home, would you have a drink in your hand or be using drugs?"

"Maybe. It's my choice."

"Are there certain situations or times when you drink?" Charles flipped the page to the next section. He recorded Brian's answers, as well as Brian's posture and mannerisms.

"I drink when I go to the bars. Everyone does. What's the big deal?" Brian answered defensively.

"Do you ever drink when you are alone?"

"Occasionally."

"When you drink alone, is there a reason you reach for a drink?"

"I work hard, long hours. When I get home, I want to relax. A drink helps me do that. Lots of people have drinks when they get off work," Brian explained his behavior.

"Do you ever use drugs when you are alone?"

"Yes."

"Why do you use drugs? Do they help you relax, too?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever forget what you've done when you are drinking or using drugs?"

"Sometimes, but it comes back to me in a few hours. I've never forgotten permanently."

Charles saw an expression on Brian's face, but chose not to push. Brian was cooperating a lot more then he thought he would. "Have you ever felt you should cut down on your drinking?"

"No."

"Has your drinking ever caused you problems on the job or with your relationships?"

"No. Just this little side trip to "Chez Allegheny". This put me out of the office for a few weeks, but since I own the business, it's okay." Brian grinned at his little joke.

Charles flipped to the last page of questions. "Do you ever leave work early or come in late because you are drunk or hung over?"

Brain sat up straight and crossed his legs. "Of course not! I have a multi-million dollar business to run. I have to be there."

"Have you ever drank first thing in the morning to steady your nerves, or to get the day started?"

"No-never."

The therapist leaned forward. "I just have a few more questions, Mr. Kinney. You used alcohol and drugs to the point of becoming comatose. That is pretty significant. Do you remember why you used so much that night?"

"No."

"Has your use increased in the last six months?"

"Probably."

"I see. Why do you think that is?"

"Look, I don't need a shrink. I drink. I do drugs. They feel good. I like them. I like sex. If I do it every day, am I addicted to it, too?"

"Do you have sex every day, Mr. Kinney?"

"Of course. I get blown two or three times every day, and I have sex at least once a day, too."

"Does your partner feel comfortable with this much sex? It appears to be a lot."

Brian snorted. "I don't have a partner. Besides, the sex is with different guys. I don't do repeats."

"You have sex with three to four people every day?" Charles asked incredulously.

"Sure. Keeps the boredom away." Brian shrugged his shoulders.

"That's a little excessive."

"What the fuck do you care? I'm not sucking your dick."

"Hasn't there been a young man with you most of your stay? The one who has Power of Attorney and is your Medical Proxy."

"Yeah, Justin."

"How does Justin feel about your drinking, drugs and sex? Does he feel it is excessive?"

"He's known me for almost six years, and I've always been this way."

"Where is Justin now?"

"He's in New York. He's an artist, and has a show this weekend."

"He doesn't live here?"

"No. He moved about a year and a half ago. He lives in New York."

"And your drinking and drug use increased during that time. Do you think there is any connection?"

"Fuck no!"

"Are you sure, Mr. Kinney? It is very common when people experience a loss in their life; they often use drugs and alcohol to fill the void."

"I didn't lose him. He just wasn't here. Now, i've been more than patient, and answered all your fucking questions. I've got a headache that you have not helped. Leave."

"I will be writing up my report, Mr. Kinney. While I do not feel that you are addicted to drugs and alcohol, your level of use is disturbing. I think you should be honest with yourself regarding your increase in use since the time of your partner's relocation. I'm also concerned with the amount of partners you engage in sex with, and the amount of times you have sex. It appears to be excessive as well. I think you have an addictive personality, and should be very careful. I would strongly suggest you talk to a therapist about these issues"

"I told you before. I don't need a fucking therapist and I don't need treatment!" Brian raised his voice very loudly.

Charles made his final notes in the chart and moved the chair back against the wall. He stood up to shake hands with Brian, but Brian did not reach his hand out to reciprocate. Charles left the room, and Brian closed his eyes as he attempted to forget the headache that was quickly forming behind his eyes.

Brian closed his eyes, willing the headache away. The pain intensified, and he reached to push the button that summoned the nurse.

"Yes, may I help you?" came the anonymous voice over the intercom.

"I've got a headache. Can I have some Tylenol?" Brian asked. Tylenol. I remember that first night Justin came home with me and he said he was allergic to Tylenol. I told him no one was allergic to Tylenol; then he changed his mind and said it was codeine. I swear, the kid was a fucking public service announcement that night. Telling me we needed to use a condom; telling me not to take drugs from strangers. Jeez, why didn't I kick him out that night? It went against every thing I believed in. No repeats, no virgins, and no twinks. Yet, six, almost seven fucking years later, and he's still here. I even asked the man to marry me? Christ, was I that delusional? Had I had too many hits of E that day? No Kinney, you were stone cold sober when you asked him to marry you, and you were dead serious about it, too. You didn't want to lose him, and were very relieved that he wasn't hurt in the explosion. How the fuck did that happen?

The nurse's tinny voice over the small speaker interrupted his trip down memory lane. "Let me check your chart, but I'm fairly certain you can have Tylenol."

A nurse came into his room a few minutes later. "Mr. Kinney, here you are," she said as she handed him two tablets. "You still can't have anything stronger, as your kidneys are still weak; also, you shouldn't take too many Tylenol or ibuprofen in a 24 hour period. They can damage your kidneys. Your liver, too."

"Whatever," Brian sighed as he listened to the mini lecture. "Can you get me a glass of water to take them with? It's a pain to walk with this stupid cane."

The nurse poured some water from the bedside table in a glass, handing it to Brian. "Lunch will be here shortly. Why don't I turn out the lights and you can rest until the dietary aide comes with your food? I'll make sure she doesn't skip your room."

Brian groaned from the pain in his head, which the nurse took as an affirmative. She turned out the light as she left the room.

______________________________________

"So Brian, you going to admit there is a problem?" Vic said as he grabbed a chair.

"You here again? You know, you're getting to be really annoying."

"I was always annoying, but I was always honest. I didn't sugar coat things, and I didn't let you get away with anything, either."

"You're telling me I have a problem, too? Is this pick on Brian week, or what?"

"You know the answer to that. You missed Justin, and used drugs and alcohol to hide your pain. You've just been using drugs and alcohol as your method of coping with life for so long that you've forgotten about the alternatives."

"What the fuck are you saying, Vic? Speak in English, not fucking metaphors," Brian instructed.

"You were beaten by your alcoholic father as a child. Your mother is an alcoholic who drinks all day to cover her sorrow and loneliness." Vic began his explanation.

"Look, I was there. I don't need you to tell me what I already know," Brian admonished. But Vic continued.

"As soon as you were able, you left home and drank and drugged your way through life to forget the rotten time you had growing up."

"And, so... your point being?"

"You should think about what the counselor said, Brian."

"I'm not a fucking addict. I don't need treatment!"

"Not that dumb woman, the other guy, Charles. Maybe you were using drugs and alcohol to fill the void Justin left when he went to New York. You're so used to using alcohol and drugs to escape your childhood traumas that you started using them to escape from your adult hurts, too. Think about it, Brian. You admitted that your use has increased over the last six months. You and Justin ‘broke up' about the same time."

Brian listened quietly. "Okay, so let's say, for the sake of argument, that you are right. I was using drugs and alcohol to cope with my loss. I'm still not giving them up."

"No one said you had to give them up. I'm just saying that you need to be honest why you're using them. It's one thing to use when you go to Babylon, or to relax a little after a hard day. It's another to use all the time, in order to escape from your pain. Tell me, Brian, is your escape worth the price of admission to the hospital and a big-ass scar that goes down your entire leg?"

Brian looked at Vic, his honesty and caring coming through in his relaxed pose and soft voice. Brian always trusted Vic. His reply was barely a whisper. "No."

"Good. So what are you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Drinking and drugging aren't the answer to Justin's leaving."

"I didn't say they were," Brian defended.

"You have to find a new way to cope with your feelings."

"Fuck you, Vic!" Brian responded. "I am not talking about me feelings. That is for lesbians!"

"Haven't you heard a word I said?" Vic admonished.

"Yeah, I heard. What about it?"

"Your method of pain management didn't work. It landed you in the hospital and you almost died. You were managing pain that you brought on yourself because you refuse to admit that Justin is important to you, in more ways than one. Tell him you want him in your life! Figure out some way to keep the world's best bubble butt in your bed! It isn't rocket science, Brian. You are the CEO of a major advertising agency, and you're well respected among your peers. It's your friends that don't know you. No one but Justin knows you that well. He's on to you, has been since the beginning and you don't like it one bit."

"He needs to be in New York, not in Pittsburgh. He's young and has his whole life to live. I can't do that to him," Brian weakly explained.

Vic sighed.

"How old is Gus?"

"What's he got to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," Vic admonished.

"He's seven."

"Does he go to school?

"Sure."

"If he said he hated school and wasn't going anymore, would you let him stay home?"

"No, he's a kid. He needs to be in school."

"If he asked to come to your loft unexpectedly, would you let him come?"

"Sure. Unless I had something I couldn't rearrange, like a client meeting. I can go to the Babylon or Woody's anytime. Besides, Melanie thinks she's depriving me of sex whenever Gus visits, so she is always eager to have him come and stay. She doesn't realize I love having him there, that I would have him more often if I could."

"How old is Justin?"

"25"

"When Justin dropped out of PIFA, could you make him go back?"

"No."

"Did you think he should have done that?"

"No. He should've finished his education. He still should."

"Why?"

"Because you should finish what you start. It shows character."

"But Justin didn't go back. He didn't feel he needed it."

"Yeah."

"Does Justin live on his own?"

"He has a roommate of sorts."

"Does he pay his own bills?"

"Well, I don't help him. I guess he does."

"Did you call him when you were brought to the hospital?"

"I was fucking unconscious! No, I didn't call him. He came on his own," Brian said, exasperated.

"So help me out here... Gus is not old enough to decide to drop out of school, and you would make him attend even if he said he didn't want to go. If Gus said he wanted to come to your home and spend time with you, you would let him unless you had some business obligation. But you don't give Justin the same choices. Justin, who is three times Gus' age, by the way. You feel he should return to school, even though he has said he doesn't want to. He lives on his own, pays his own bills, and, by all appearances, makes his own decisions. Why don't you think he can make this decision?"

Brian put his forefinger up to his tooth and flicked the tooth, then dropped it back to his lap. "He'll be giving up too much. This is his dream."

"Don't you think you should let Justin decide what he wants to give up, and what his dream is?"

"Maybe."

"That's a start. You should talk to him."

"Why would I do that?"

"Brian Kinney. If I weren't dead, I would smack you upside your head and knock some sense into you. Justin is a grown man. He loves you. You love him. Figure this out before it's too late! Stop hurting him and yourself! Some people are lucky enough to find love. Don't let it get in your way because you think you know better." Vic stood up from his imaginary chair and walked toward the door. "I hear the dietary aide walking this way. Time for lunch. He'll be back in three days, Brian. You've got that long before you have to face the music." Vic walked out the door...

...And the aide walked in, bringing Brian back from his strange hallucination.

"Lunch," she said as she placed the tray on the bed cart.

"You can turn on the light. I'm not sleeping. It appears the sick and the dead share the same fate. No rest for the wicked."

The aide looked at Brian with a frown, but said, "I'll be back in a while to pick up the tray."

Brian picked up the top of the hot plate and looked at the meatloaf. It was slightly green in tint, and was covered in deep red ketchup. A scoop of white mashed potatoes was on the side, and a small cup of fruit was placed on the plate as well. Brian picked up his fork, stabbed the meatloaf, and tentatively brought it to his mouth. He tasted it, finding it tasted like ketchup, and took a few bites. He scooped some mashed potatoes on his fork, but spit them out when he discovered that they tasted like paste. He ate some of the fruit and then pushed the tray away again. It was silent in the room, no television or radio blaring, and few noises coming from the hallway.

Brian pushed himself up on his cane and hobbled to the bathroom, where he took care of things. Looking in the mirror, he saw the pale and sallow skin of his face.

"Damn, I'm scary. It's a wonder that anyone stays to visit. I don't even think I'd visit me. Although Sonny Boy wasn't fazed and I thought kids get scared easily. Hmmm...better get out of the john or they'll think I've fallen in.

Shit. Fallen. That word will never have the same connotation again. Brian Kinney does not fall. Ahh, but I did; I fell hard and far.

"Brian! Brian are you okay," Jose yelled when he walked into the room.

"I'm fine, just give me a minute. I'm not as fast as you," Brian yelled back.

Brian walked out of the bathroom, and over to the chair where he had been sitting. Jose watched him, therapist evaluating his patient.

"Good job. You're pretty steady using your cane. Get in the wheelchair, and I'll wheel you down for therapy. Don't want you to get tired before we do any real work."

"I'll have you know I've been working all morning, and it was hard," Brian countered.

"We're talking physical therapy, but I know you know that. Where's Justin? He hasn't missed a session yet, and I know you enjoy his rubdowns more than you enjoy mine," Jose asked as he wheeled Brian into the therapy room.

"Justin's in New York. His show is this weekend," Brian explained without expression.

"Oh. You must be really proud of him. An art show in New York is pretty impressive. Has he had many shows?"

"He's where he needs to be, making a name for himself," Brian muttered.

Jose looked at Brian with a puzzled expression, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, but didn't ask anymore questions. "I want to see you stand and walk over to the table."

Brian did as instructed without any difficulty, albeit a little slower than normal speed.

"Great, Brian! You're doing great. Now...it's time to try stairs. How many stairs are in your home?"

Brian visualized that loft. "Just three, leading up to the bedroom. It's a loft, with wide open spaces. Really, just one big living space."

"Great. Any stairs to get into the building?"

Brian grimaced. "Shit. Yeah, there's a whole flight of those. Six or seven steps, but then you can either take the stairs up to the loft or the elevator."

"Okay, that isn't too bad. Is there a ramp at the entry, in case you're tired or fatigued?"

"I don't fucking know. I never paid attention."

"It's okay. We've still got a few days to work on your stamina, and I'm sure you'll be fine. Most buildings have ramps anyway; its code these days."

"Shit. Let's get started. I want to go home. Get away from therapists and social workers," Brian threw out.

"Therapists and social workers? What do they want?"

Brian sat down in the wheelchair, as he was getting tired of standing, and Jose had not made a move to continue his therapy. "Seems some bitch in the CD department thinks I belong in a treatment program." Brian explained and then stopped before he went further. "Why the fuck am I explaining this shit to Jose or to anyone? They are all full of themselves and their righteous treatments. They don't really give a fuck about me, just want to fill another hospital bed and make more money.

"Oh, yeah, I can see why you'd want to get away from that. Well let's continue your therapy. We started really early today and with all the walking you've done, you'll probably be very tired." Jose wheeled Brian over to the short rise of therapy stairs. There were three stairs up to a small platform, then three stairs down. "I want you to use your cane to help support your weaker leg. Hold on to the rail at all times," Jose instructed.

"I'm not five. I get the whole cane thing," Brian quipped. He stood up and walked the few steps to the stairs. He placed his foot on the first step and walked up the step as he was instructed. He slowly climbed the other stairs and stopped when he came to the small landing. He felt sweat droplets drip down his forehead and down his back. "Damn! You didn't tell me that you were going to torture me today."

"You're doing great. Your body is still recovering, and it's been sitting for the last several weeks. It's weak; you have to build up your strength." Jose explained. "Ready to go down?" He asked.

"Sure." Brian slowly made his way down the stairs, finding the descent a little scary in his unsteady condition, and then took a few steps to the wheelchair, where he promptly sat down. "We done?" he panted.

"Not quite. I'm going to put you on the mat and give you some electrical stimulation. The current helps the healing process."

"You're going to do what?"

Jose wheeled Brian over to the mat and helped him lay down. He showed Brian the TENS unit, with its thin electrical wires attached to small circular pads. "I'm going to place these sticky pads several places on your leg, and a small electrical shock will come through the wires. It will tingle but won't hurt. Research has found that electrical stimulation really helps healing."

"Kinky. Justin would find this really amusing. Brian Kinney being shocked to heal."

I wish Justin were here. I've grown used to seeing him every day, and that Sunshine smile has brightened my world. Stop it Kinney, you know he needs to be in New York right now, and you cannot think about him being here.

Jose hooked up the wires and pads, and turned on the machine. As he adjusted the voltage, he asked, "Is this uncomfortable?"

To Brian's surprise, it wasn't. He answered, "No, feels kind of tingly, in a good way. I wish I'd found this therapy years ago. I love it."

Brian finished his session, and Jose completed his range of motion exercises. "All finished. I think you could probably use some rest. Have you been out of bed this entire time?"

"Yeah."

"Don't overdo it Brian. Your body is still healing. Rest."

Brian shook his head, ignoring the directive. "Hey Jose, now that I can stand, can I take a shower?"

"Don't see why not. Tell the nurses before you start so they can keep an eye on you. Don't want you undoing any of my great work," Jose kidded.

"Sure," Brian agreed, already envisioning a long, hot shower.

Jose took Brian back to his room and watched as Brian made his way to his bed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

As he lay in bed, he realized how tired he really was. Brian closed his eyes, and fell quickly asleep.

Justin watched the streets of New York as the cab sped through the city. The subway didn't take him all the way to Sam's office, and he was in a hurry today. Normally, he would have walked the five blocks, but he was going to take advantage of the credit card advance he took on Brian's card. He figured he could pay Brian back with the profit he made from this show. He thought back to his first show at the GLC, and smiled at how far he'd come. He arrived at Sam's office, paid the driver and went inside. As he took the elevator up to the office, he reflected on his life.

Four month ago, this was it. ‘The Big Break.' A show with one exciting new artist, and a known artist who would bring in some top critics. He remembered he couldn't stop smiling when Sam had told him he'd set the show up. He'd worked hard in these last few months, painting and looking for inspiration wherever he could. Now it was here.

His whole world had revolved around this moment, and now he realized that it wasn't as important as he thought. While Brian had kicked him out of his life six months ago, he'd never totally believed it was over. Now he knew that he was right. Not for the first time, he realized that some sacrifices were not worth making.

The elevator arrived and he walked the short distance to Sam's office. Opening the door, he walked up to the young woman who was manning the outer office.

"Justin Taylor," he said as she looked up from her magazine.

She looked at her calendar and saw his name in the 2:00 slot. I'll let Mr. Harper know you're here. Have a seat."

Justin sat and dropped his messenger bag on the floor. His back was relieved not to be carrying that burden anymore.

A middle age man wearing an open collared yellow shirt and faded jeans walked out of the office. Sam, his agent, was quite the character. "Justin! Good to see you. Ready for tomorrow? The gallery called and several of your paintings have already sold. I'm impressed. At this rate, you'll be solo soon."

Justin followed Sam into his office and sat in the beige over stuffed office chair. As usual, he glanced at Sam's wall, filled with paintings from the artists he represented. The pictures changed as he sold the pieces after a few months. "Hey, that's one of mine! When did you put that up?"

"A few weeks ago. I always try to put up work from the artist if there is a show coming up. That way, people see your work."

"I never knew. Thanks."

"No thanks needed, Justin. My job is to sell your work, and I can't do that without getting it out there. If you don't sell your paintings, I don't make any money."

"True. So... you said in your email that you wanted to talk to me before the show?"

"Justin, you're a hot commodity right now. Your work is creative, innovative and cutting edge. While we were setting up the show, I had several galleries approach me about future shows."

Justin grinned, and wished Brian was there. He would help me celebrate in style."That's great, Sam! Tell me about them."

"There are two galleries that are definitely interested in having a show in the next year, and a third that has shown some preliminary interest. I'd need some fresh work to show them, and a timeline." Sam took a file folder from his bottom desk drawer, then pulled some contracts out from the top drawer. He pulled out the contract for the current show and reread it. "The exhibit tomorrow will run for one month. Do you have any paintings you're currently working on?"

"I haven't done a lot of work in the last month, being in Pittsburgh, but I have done a few small things."

"I see. It would be great if I had some fresh work to show them, but I understand. How's Brian?"

Justin slouched in the chair at Sam's original statement, but sat up when Sam mentioned Brian. "He's doing great. They're supposed to release him from the hospital on Monday or Tuesday."

"You're coming back soon then?" Sam asked as a courtesy.

Justin returned to the semi-slouch in his chair. He felt like he did when a teacher was scolding him for not having his homework done. "I'm not sure. I told him I would help him with his recovery."

"How much time is that going to take? I won't lie to you, Justin. You're hot right now. You need to have another show soon, or the public will forget you," Sam explained as he crossed his arms.

"I'll find the time. I know Brian wouldn't be happy if I messed this up," Justin frowned as he thought of their conversation when they cancelled the wedding. When he found out about the Art Forum article, he didn't want me to give up my chance. I didn't want to give it up either, but he was, and still is, the most important thing in my life. I want it all... and this time I think I can do it. With renewed determination, he smiled and said, "With the money from the show, I'll rent some studio space in Pittsburgh, and be able to paint wonderful new pieces for whatever shows you can get for me."

Sam saw the intense look on Justin's face and the smile that accompanied it. "You're moving back?"

"I was going to talk to you about that. It's not like you need to see me everyday, or I like I need to paint here." Justin held out his hand and absently pressed his fingers back to stretch them. "You said yourself that I've got a lot of buzz from the critics, and that's the most important thing. I can come here once or twice a month for openings and interviews. There's nothing that says I have to live here, right?" Justin explained as he pleaded his case.

Sam drummed his fingers on his desk as he listened to the impassioned speech. "No, you don't have to live here. I would just like to see your work as it progresses. I can't come down to your studio or meet you for coffee if you're not in the city."

Justin crossed his legs back and forth, but settled on both feet on the floor. "I could email you digitals of the work. That way you'd have something to show the galleries," Justin suggested.

Sam shook his head, no. "I don't want them intercepted. If you came in to the city every few weeks, you could bring me digitals."

Justin laughed. "You make it sound like we're dealing in top state secrets."

"Justin, this is your creativity we're talking about. People steal ideas as often as top state secrets," Sam admonished as he leaned back in his tall leather chair.

"I guess you're right." Justin nodded. "So you think I would be okay painting in Pittsburgh?"

"It's not the ideal, but since you're so set on returning, there isn't much I can do about it. Promise me that you'll come into the city for several long weekends every month, and we have a deal. You'll need to show up at some openings and be seen around town, too."

"I think I can manage that. Brian has always been my best subject and muse; you won't regret this, I promise." Justin grinned as he held out his hand to shake Sam's.

Sam returned the hand shake and gathered the contracts for Justin to review. "You never cease to amaze me, Justin. Most artists can't wait to move to New York and be a part of the art world. Here you are at the cusp of notoriety and you want to return home."

"Sam, you're married right?"

"Yeah. Twelve years."

"If your dream job was in another city, would you want to leave your wife?" Justin asked as he tried to help Sam understand.

"It would be a really hard decision, but I don't think I'd go if I couldn't take her," Sam answered. He placed the contracts in an envelope and sealed them.

Justin leaned forward as he explained the situation. "I was faced with that decision when I came to New York. Brian couldn't come with me- he owns a big advertising firm in Pittsburgh and he couldn't leave. I had to leave the most important person in my life to pursue my dream. I've got a second chance, and I want to try and make this work. Brian won't let me sacrifice my career to be with him. If I can show him the contracts for the upcoming shows, he won't have a valid argument."

"I see. Well, good luck, Justin. Have your attorney look them over, and you can courier them back to me. I'd like to get the dates locked in with the galleries. Now, be sure to be at the gallery by 6:00 tomorrow. " Sam handed Justin the envelope and Justin placed it in his messenger bag.

"Thanks Sam. I'll see you tomorrow." Justin stood, placed his messenger bag over his shoulder and left the office.

He was feeling rather euphoric, so he indulged again and took a cab all the way back to his apartment. He opened the door to his place, and was hit with the mess he had left. He started sorting dirty clothes and trash, and within an hour, the place was clean again. He took his dirty laundry down to the laundry room in the basement. He was glad that he didn't have to take it to a laundromat. He placed his money in the machine and returned to his apartment.

He had kept his moving boxes in storage, so he asked the superintendent of the apartment to let him in the room. He started boxing up his dishes and kitchen items. He knew he wouldn't need them, as he'd either be staying with Daphne or Brian, and neither would let him bring his stuff with him. He could see Brian having a fit if he tried bringing Big Q's finest merchandise into his loft. If he moved out on his own, he'd just have to buy new stuff. He actually had the money to do so now. That thought made him giggle. He was going to have money. YAY!

His big break; while he was excited about it, he couldn't get rid of the vague feeling that he shouldn't be here.

He needed and wanted to be in Pittsburgh with Brian. Brian had kicked him out six months ago, but he knew in his heart that Brian had still cared. Now, he was vindicated in his beliefs that they could have it all, but the situation was even more complicated than before. Brian was scaring him. He'd gone overboard, used booze and drugs to hide from his pain. He knew if he returned to Pittsburgh, Brian would probably stop using his pain management techniques of choice as much, but would he accept Justin wanted to be there? Justin was smart enough to know that Brian would fight him tooth and nail when he told the older man of his choice to stay.

Brian spent the afternoon working on the Pool Boy account. He got a twisted sense of satisfaction when he worked on this campaign, as he knew every penny that was made from his advertising was a sore spot for the homophobic owner of the company. He smiled as he remembered the night he had the owner come to Woody's to see the new campaign, and the man just about shit in his pants when he realized it was a gay bar. Brian always liked it when he put the screws to men like that asshole; he was more than pleased with himself at the moment.

He picked up the phone and dialed Ted's extension at Kinnetik.

"Hello, Ted Schmidt speaking," Ted replied as he picked up the phone.

"Ted! Get your ass down here now and pick up the Pool Boy account. I want it at the art department as soon as possible, and tell that asshole Thomas that I want the mock ups done by next week," Brian demanded.

"Hey, Brian. I guess you're feeling better. Are you still at the hospital?" Ted calmly said, ignoring Brian's rudeness.

"Of course I am, you idiot, otherwise I would be in the office, and I could walk them down there myself. Now, get in that boring car of yours and drive yourself over here to pick up these storyboards. We have a deadline, and our customers don't like to be kept waiting."

"Sure thing, Brian. It's 4:00 now. I'll be down by 6:00 . I'll take them home with me tonight. and deliver them to the art department first thing in the morning."

Brian sighed loudly into the phone. "I guess that will have to do. I can't wait until I get out of this hellhole and can do things the right way," Brian snarked.

"Later, Brian," Ted said as he hung up, shaking his head.

The words brought memories of Justin to the forefront of Brian's mind. Justin has never, ever left my room without saying 'Later'. It's almost like a talisman. Geez, I am becoming a lesbian, trying to analyze everything. If I don't get out of here soon, I'll want to talk about everything. Or eat pussy. Brian shivered at the thought.

He placed the completed ad storyboard on the table, and flipped on the television. Christ, who watches this drivel? There was some loud, oversized black women talking about bargain hunting on one channel, and on another channel there was a craggy old lady in judge's robes banging her gavel.

He didn't notice the slight knock on the door, but Debbie did not wait for an okay to enter, instead barging in without the least thought that she might not be welcome.  "Oh, Judge Judy. I just love her! Why, last week she had two people arguing about a fence on their property. The one lady claimed that the other lady owed her for half the fence since they shared the property, but the second lady didn't want to pay since she didn't agree to putting up the fence. What is the case today?"

Brian looked over to the door. "You watch this shit? Why am I not surprised? Never mind, don't answer that. Sit down," he said as he saw she had pulled a chair over to the middle of the room. "Knock yourself out."

Debbie watched for a few minutes and a commercial came on. She turned to Brian and grabbed the bag she had placed on the floor. "With Sunshine gone this weekend, I thought you could use some cheering up. I brought you some lemon bars." She handed the bag to Brian.

He opened it and took a whiff of the lemon treat. "Thanks. You've delivered your bars. Now. don't you have to go home and cook for the cop?"

Debbie hit him gently on the back of the head.

"What's that for?"

"Where do I begin? For starters, having Sunshine kick me out of the room the other day; that was not very nice! After all, I'm almost your fucking mom." She smacked her gum for several minutes before continuing. "Then, of course, there is the small matter that you owe me an explanation for why you overdosed in the first place. And of course, you also need to be nicer to your visitors." She turned her attention back to the television to see what the judge's ruling was on the case.

Brian put his thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of his nose and pushed, trying to stave the headache that was threatening to return.

What is it with everyone and their incessant need to harp on the overdose?

"Shut off the damn television, Deb. I refuse to talk over that crazy bitch," Brian directed.

Deb took the control and turned off the television, then turned to Brian, tears in her eyes.

"Brian Aidan Kinney, what the fuck were you thinking? Scaring me like that! I almost had a heart attack myself when I heard," Debbie said as she brought her hand over her heart.

"So I had a little too much to drink and took a few too many drugs. I'm here to be bitched at about it. What's the big deal?" Brian deadpanned.

Debbie stood up and paced the small room. "The big deal is that you almost died. Think of all the people that it would've affected. First off, there's Sunshine. He would be devastated. Then there's Michael. He still worships the ground the great ‘Brian Kinney' walks on." She walked over to Brian's chair, poking him in the chest for emphasis. "You can't forget Gus or Melanie and Lindsay. The list is pretty long, asshole."

Brian rubbed the spot where Debbie poked him. "Whatever. It didn't happen, so there's really no use talking about it. I told Justin I would be more careful."

"You do always keep your word," Debbie remarked. She continued to walk around the small room. "But I'm still waiting for an apology for Sunshine kicking me out the other day."

"Justin was following my wishes. He saw that I was tired," Brian said, not liking the need to explain, or to justify his or Justin's actions. "Look Deb, I'm really tired. It's been a fucking long day. Thanks for the lemon bars."

Debbie walked over to Brian's chair. "You take care. And when you get out I'll make sure to send over lots of food. If I know you two, you'll be fucking like bunnies and won't get out of bed. You need your strength to get better."

Brian rolled his eyes, but said, "Yes, Ma."

She leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek and immediately wiped the bright red lipstick off his cheek. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn't, and then walked out of the room.

I will be so glad to get out of this shitty hospital. People will have to buzz to get to the loft, no more of this just knocking and entering shit. It's like a fucking revolving door. Now I understand why they say that sick people shouldn't be in the hospital- because you don't get any rest! I swear, there is someone in my room every fucking hour.
Brian put the bag with the lemon bars on the small night stand, and walked to the bathroom. After using the facilities, he washed his hands and looked in the mirror. Better today. A little more color. At least being out of the sun will keep me from adding any more lines by my eyes. Not that it really makes a difference any more. Can't pick up too many tricks with Frankenstein's legs, except maybe in the dark of the back room. This really sucks. It will put a huge crimp in my tricking and with Justin back in New York , I won't be getting my cock sucked on a regular basis anymore.

When Brian returned to his chair, he flipped the television back on and found a news channel. He listened half heartedly to the newscasters, but was interrupted once again by a knock on the door.

"What the fuck do you want? It's a hospital. There are sick people in here! How am I supposed to get better if there is no fucking peace and quiet?" Brian yelled in the direction of the door, as Ted walked in.

"I'm here to pick up the ad sheets," Ted timidly explained.

"I fucking know why you're here! I told you to come down. Took you long enough." Brian glanced at the clock behind his bed and saw that it was a little after six.

"There was an accident of the beltway," Ted explained. He picked up the paperwork for the ad campaign, glancing at the work. "These are good, but God, I hate that shit. Who buys Pool Boy?"

"Of course they're good. I designed them," Brian snapped.

"Can I get you anything? Soda? Juice? Something from the diner? I hear that the food here is not the best."

Brian took his thumb and put it to his front teeth and he contemplated his answer. "Let's see. A hard bodied brunette with pecs of steel and a nine inch cock would suffice."

Ted rolled his eyes. "No can do. I have faith in you- you always manage to find a guy to fuck in the most unusual places. Visions of you fucking that nurse when I woke up from MY coma will, unfortunately, be permanently embedded in my brain."

"You should be thankful, Theodore; maybe you should have picked up a few pointers." Brian grinned. "Actually, I'd love some guava juice. Don't know if they have any in the cafeteria, but according to my stalker, there's a little corner grocery store about two blocks from here."

"Sure thing, Bri. I'll be back shortly." He put the ad down on the table and left on his errand.

The dietary aide brought his dinner a few minutes later. Today it was Salisbury Steak smothered in gravy, and after looking at the brown piece of meat, Brian re-covered the plate. There was also a cup of chicken noodle soup with crackers, and he ate that. A fruit cup was also on the tray, and he found that it was passably edible. As he was completing his meal, there was another knock on the door.

"I don't know why anyone fucking knocks; you all just come in anyway! Come the hell in," he yelled.

Karen came in the door holding a packet of information. "Did you fill out the paperwork for the transfer, Mr. Kinney. I would like to have you moved as soon as possible so you can start your treatment."

"I told you I'm not going to treatment. Now get out!" Brian yelled.

"Mr. Kinney, Dr. Moya feels that you need to participate..." Karen attempted to explain.

"Look, you bitch. I told you this afternoon. I'm not going to treatment; no one can force me, ‘cause alcohol and drug treatment is voluntary unless I've committed a crime. Last time I checked, I didn't commit a crime. Now fucking leave or I'll call the cops!"

Ted walked in during Brian's tirade and cringed. "Here's your juice, Bri. Lucky you, they have guava juice in the cafeteria."

"Theodore. Get this woman out of my room, now! Go to the nurses' station and tell them she is not to return, or I will call my lawyer." Brian gestured to the door.

"But Mr. Kinney..."

" Miss...you need to listen to Mr. Kinney. He knows his rights. Please leave..."

She turned and walked out. Ted followed her and directed the nurses to forbid her entrance into Brian's room. He returned to Brian's room

"What did she want, Brian?"

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb again. Damn that bitch. Now my headache is really back, and I doubt they'll give me any more drugs. One more reason to get out of this hellhole. " She seems to think I have an alcohol and drug problem, and that I need to be on some fucking Chemical Dependency Treatment ward with a bunch of losers." The venom in his voice palpable.

Ted cringed when he heard Brian's tirade.

"I'm not some crystal queen, or a falling-down-drunk like my old man. I like to drink and take a few recreational drugs. What the hell's wrong with that?"

"Fire me now, Brian."

Brian looked at Ted with a quizzical expression.

"I learned a lot in treatment. You don't have to reach the end of your rope like I did to be an addict. Think about what she said." He picked up the ad for the Pool Boy account. "I'll deliver this to Kinnetik tomorrow and then I'll pack my things in the office. Thank you for giving me a chance." Ted started to walk toward the door.

"What the fuck, Ted? I'm not going to fire your sorry ass for speaking your mind. Fuck up my accounts, embezzle from me, sell my ad ideas, and THEN I will have your ass in a sling; it won't be a pleasant experience. Everyone else seems to feel that they can tell me what to do, so why the fuck should you be any different?"

"Oh. OK, Brian. Thank you," Ted stammered.

"Now sit your ass down in this chair so you can catch me up on things going on at Kinnetik."

Ted sat down and talked to Brian for several hours. Brian was starting to yawn, and after the third time in less then ten minutes, Ted gathered the Pool Boy account for the third time and stood up. "Bri, take care. I'll deliver this tomorrow morning and I'll be sure to yell at Thomas to get it finished quickly." He smiled at his cleverness, then headed for the door.

Brian didn't respond, but walked to the bathroom one last time and completed his evening rituals. Back in bed his bed, he reached for the phone. It was 10:00 PM , and hopefully Justin would be somewhere he could talk.

He rang Justin, who answered immediately.

"Hey. Miss me?" Justin asked as he felt a tingle run through his body, just from talking to Brian on the phone.

‘Hey." Brian repeated. "So how is fabulous ‘Nude York'?"

Justin laughed. "I should get Gus something special from New York for renaming it for us."

"Pick him up an ‘I Love New York ' t-shirt. The joke will be ours to share."

"Okay, I should have time to do that tomorrow. There are vendors on every street corner here, and they sell everything. So how was your day?" Justin asked. "You sound tired. Did Jose wear you out?"

"More like the fucking revolving door that is my hospital room wore me out," Brian groused.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help," Justin said softly.

"Sorry's bullshit. Didn't you learn anything, Justin? I thought I taught you to be the best homosexual there is," Brian reminded him of the first rule from the Kinney handbook.

Justin smiled at Brian's familiar rant. "Did something happen after I left?"

"Jose tortured me; made me walk stairs. But I showed him, and performed beautifully. Then another fucking therapist came to talk to me- seems that the hospital must determine if I'm a threat to myself or others before letting me go. Of course, I can't forget Debbie's little visit, followed by the Treatment Bitch from Hell trying to coerce me into fucking treatment again, and then finishing up with Theodore Schmidt pitifully trying to explain that you can be an addict without losing every last shred of your dignity."

"Sounds like you had a busy day. That's more excitement than I had!"

"Tell me about your day. Was Mother Taylor nice to you on the plane?"

"Mom was good. Didn't say too much about your situation. She tried to explain to me some nonsense about Molly turning sixteen, and how she was going to have to start developing friendships with everyone so she could get ahead in this world. Debutants and other girl stuff. She wants to buy Molly some big present now that she's going to be sixteen in a few weeks. Hell, when I was sixteen, all I wanted was a driver's license and keys to the car."

"Ah, the innocence of youth," Brian waxed poetic. "Don't tell me you weren't thinking about cock at sixteen, too?"

"Duh. That goes without saying."

"Speaking of cock... Mine is feeling very neglected. Think you could do something about that, Justin?" Brian teased.

"Why Mr. Kinney, are you soliciting sex over the telephone? I think that might be punishable by orgasm." Justin laughed at his witty remark.

"Punish me, Mr. Taylor," Brian played along.

"I think that can be arranged. Are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Good. Got tissues near by? Don't want you to have to go hunting when I'm done with you. You'll hopefully be ready for sleep."

"Yes, Sunshine. I've got tissues right here," Brian said a little exasperated. "Now, let's not spoil the mood again."
TBC

"Are you lying down?" Justin murmured softly into the phone.

"Twat. I'm in the fucking hospital. Of course, I'm lying down."

"Imagine me kissing your nipples. First, I suck them into my mouth until they're tight little nubs. Then I take my forefinger and thumb and twist them. The shock sends tingles of pleasure to your cock."

Brian sighed softly at the imagine Justin portrayed.

"Good. I want you to grab your cock. It's so beautiful and long. Have you got it?"

"Yes," Brian said, his voice husky.

"Put your fingers in your mouth, make then really, really wet. Slide your hand up and down your cock."

"Oh yeah," Brian moaned as he pleasured himself.

Justin heard Brian's increased breathing, and knew his lover was close. "Take your other hand and play with your balls. Fondle them; squeeze them while you stroke yourself."

"Justin..."

Brian's breathing was even more labored than before. "That's it. Harder...faster! Come for me. I want to hear you shoot."

Silence, then a load moan over the phone line told Justin his attempt at phone sex had been successful.

After a few minutes, Brian said sleepily, "Good night, Justin."

"Night, Brian. See you in a few days." Hanging up the phone, Justin laid back on his lumpy pillow.

Even though, Justin lay in bed for a long time before he could sleep. Thoughts of the last weeks jumped around in his head.

"Now that you are medically stable, Dr. Moya would like you transferred to the CD unit to address your alcohol and drug use."...

"I'm always on your side, Justin. I just want what's best for you. How can you work on your art if you're here with Brian?"...

"I just want you to be happy, Justin."...

"I never said I was supporting you. I'm making an investment in a rising artist whom I happen to know very well."...

"You never cease to amaze me, Justin. Most artists can't wait to move to New York and be a part of the art world. Here you are, on the cusp of notoriety, and you want to return home."

His life was like a tornado. He was in the middle of the storm, and everything was whirling out of control. I need to get some sleep. I've got the biggest show of my career tomorrow, and I need it to be a HUGE success, so that I can return to Pittsburgh and show Brian that I don't NEED to be in New York!

Justin pictured Brian's face, in full post-orgasmic bliss; he eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, Justin finished boxing up his few possessions, then went to the FedEx down the block to mail the few boxes of things he was keeping. He called the Salvation Army to pick up the rest. He knocked on his neighbor John's door, and the young man answered after a few moments.

"You're back. I kept an eye on the place for you. Everything cool?" John asked.

Justin looked at John, noticing his brown hair sticking up, and the fact that he was still in his boxers and a ratty t-shirt. "Shit, sorry I woke you up. I thought you had to work today."

John yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "No problem. I needed to get up anyway. I'm off today-got a big audition, so I traded with Brandon," he answered as he stretched his long, lean torso. Justin appreciatively gazed at the firm six-pack John had hidden underneath the t-shirt.

"Wanna come inside? I think I can make us some coffee and we can catch up?" John offered as he waved Justin into his apartment.

"Sorry. I just stopped by to see if you'd let the Salvation Army guy in next Wednesday. I'm moving back to the Pitts, and this shit isn't worth shipping home."

"You mean, I'm going to have a new neighbor soon? Damn, I'm sorry to hear that. You were nice and quiet, unlike those two noisy girls that were here before you." John stopped for a moment. "Wait. Don't you have a show coming up? What about it?" He looked at Justin with concern.

"Yeah, its tonight. I'll dazzle all my fans, and then I'm returning to Pittsburgh. Brian needs me... and I'm ready to move back," Justin explained.

"Let's back up the Taylor train and explain this to the slow New Jersey guy," John teased.

"You've heard me talk about Brian?"

John nodded. "He's the ex. Right?"

Justin nodded, and grinned when he thought of Brian's reaction to being referred to as ‘the Ex.' Brian would never admit to ever being in relationship, and now to be referred to as ‘the Ex' was poetic irony. Justin never forgot that they almost got married, and he knew that meant Brian did consider them to be in a relationship. Once.

"Well... How do I explain Brian? Apparently, he told me to get lost because he couldn't handle us being apart. Anyway, when I came back, we talked- or something like it. He'd never stopped caring for me. I talked to my agent, and we agreed that I can paint anywhere. So... I'm going back to paint in Pittsburgh, and hopefully, giving us a fighting chance. What can I say? I love the idiot."

Justin glowed as he talked about Brian, and John held out his hand to shake Justin's. "I wish you luck. Finding the right one is never easy. What time's the show? Maybe I can make it down there to see it."

"Show is from 8:00 to 11:00 at the Bloom Gallery on 121st. It's formal. Got anything to wear? I've got an extra coat you could borrow. You're about my size."

"Taylor, I may be a starving artist, but I do own a few nice clothes. I've got a coat. I'll swing by. May be one of my last chances to see you before you become rich and famous," John joked.

"Hate to run, but I've got a million stupid things to do before the show. See you there." Justin hugged John and went back to his apartment.

He called the super and told him he was moving. He had two months left on his lease, and Justin agreed to pay the balance. He went to the post office and filled out a change of address form. He went to the art store and told them to ship his upcoming order to Pittsburg, and paid the extra charge. He bought the ‘I love New York" t-shirt for Gus, and then decided he should buy Molly a present for her birthday.

He walked into Macy's, heading to the jewelry counter. "Excuse me. I need to buy something for my little sister. She's turning sixteen, and I have no idea what girls her age like."

The women behind the counter looked at Justin, dressed, as usual, in his casual cargo pants and t-shirt. "Does she have pierced ears? Earrings are always a good bet."

Justin frowned as he tried to picture Molly. He remembered some conversation with his mom when Molly was really young, maybe six or seven, and they were arguing about piercing. Molly had won and she got her ears pierced. "Yeah."

"Good." The saleswoman took out several pairs of earrings and laid them on the counter. "What about one of these. They're elegant without being overwhelming."

Justin picked up each pair, surreptitiously looking at the prices. He handed the woman a pair of studs that cost $50.00. "These should do. Thank you."

"How would you like to pay for them?"

Justin hesitated a minute before taking Brian's credit card out of his wallet, and handling it to her.

She looked at him and saw the card was signed with the name on the front. "Do you have any ID?" She asked.

Justin pulled out his driver's license and handed it to the woman. She flipped both sides verifying it was him and handed him back the license. She processed the credit card and gave him his purchases. "Gift wrap is in the basement."

"Uh ...thanks. That would be great." Justin took the earrings and had them wrapped, then took them down to the UPS store and had them shipped to Molly. He thought he would be around for her birthday, but wasn't sure.

He walked four blocks to his job at the small diner. The bell jangled just like it did at the Liberty diner, and he looked around half expecting to see the gang at the back booth. It was 2:00 PM, and the place was pretty empty. He walked to the back office of the diner where Peter, the owner, usually sat. He knocked on the door.

"Come in," Peter's smoke- induced, gravelly voice answered.

Peter looked up to see Justin walking in the small office. "You back? Good. I was beginning to think you weren't gonna come back." The man picked up the papers he was writing on and found Justin's name on the schedule. Picking up a pen, he started to write Justin's name in the slot. "I can give you a shift in two days. That good?"

"Sorry Peter," Justin said. "I came to tell you that I'm not coming back. I appreciate you giving me a break and a job when I really needed it, but I've decided to go back to Pittsburgh."

"Had enough of the mean streets?" Peter joked.

"Actually, I love New York and I was happy here, but my life has always been in Pittsburgh; I'm going to paint there."

Peter snorted derisively. "Dreamers... all of you. Look I got a business to run, so if you're not coming back, I gotta find me a new waiter."

Justin held out his hand to shake Peter's, but Peter just turned back to his paperwork. Justin exited the little office and looked around one last time at the diner.

It was almost 4:00 and it would take him forty five minutes to get to the show. He always took a cab to his shows. He didn't want to appear too much like a starving artist. Again, he was happy that he had taken an advance on Brian's credit card. It was really nice having money.

He made his way back to his apartment and lay down on his bed for a short nap. When the alarm went off, Justin showered and carefully shaved. He dressed, then went down to the street and hailed a cab, arriving at the gallery at 6:30.

Sam greeted him when he walked in.

"Justin! I've got the contracts you requested in my office. Are you sure I can't convince you to change your mind and stay in the city?"

"Thanks, but no, you can't change my mind. I think this is the right thing for me." He heard the door open and saw his mother walk in. "Sam, let me introduce you to my mother. She is very excited about the show-she may be more excited than I am!"

Jennifer walked towards Justin, but stopped before she reached him. Justin waved her forward.

"Mom, this is Sam Cabelero, my agent. Sam, this is my mom, Jennifer Taylor."

Sam reached out and shook Jennifer's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Taylor. You have a very talented son. I would love to talk to you, but I see someone I need to have a word with before the show. Excuse me." Sam left Justin and his mother.

Jennifer looked around. "Justin, this is a beautiful gallery. I had no idea it was this big."

"Let me show you the place before the show starts. I'll probably be pretty busy once the show actually opens."

Justin led Jennifer around the gallery, stopping at his pieces as well as the other artist's. He pointed to a picture with vibrant colors. "This is the one Brian bought. He wanted to buy the picture on the far wall, but it was already sold. Isn't it amazing, Mom? I'm selling my art before the show even opens."

Jennifer leaned over and kissed Justin on the check, then glanced around. "I'm so proud of you, Justin. I wonder if there is anything that I could afford."

"I'll paint you something, mom. You don't have to buy my work," Justin admonished his mother.

"Thank you, honey, but that wouldn't be right."

"Let me be the judge of that, Mom. If you want, I'll paint something small to go in your office."

"That would be great. I'll think about it."

The door started chiming as several patrons entered into the gallery. "I'm sorry Mom, but I have to go mingle."

"I'll be fine, Justin. I can study all the art, and sit like I used to when we would go to the art museum when you were little," she said as she walked off toward the back of the gallery.

Justin mingled with the patrons and spoke to each one. Lindsay showed up about 7:30, and found Justin as soon as she walked in the door.

"I'm sorry I'm late. The plane was delayed, and then there was an accident," she explained as she gave Justin a hug.

"You're here, and that's all that matters. Let me show you around." Justin steered her toward the exhibit and his work.

After Lindsay had seen several paintings, she remarked, "This is such a far cry from your first show at the GLC. I can still see Brian showing up, and the look on your face when he walked in the door. I'm so glad to be here, but I would have loved for Brian to see this...how different it is. It was so nice of him to let me have his ticket."

Justin cringed at her statements, but didn't reply. Lindsay continued. "I'd love to see your studio, but I guess there really isn't time. Maybe next trip."

"If you'll excuse me, I have someone I need to talk to. My mom is around here somewhere. I'm sure she would love to see you."

Justin made his way back to Sam. "It looks like a nice showing," Justin commented.

"You're doing well. Most of your pieces have already sold, and it isn't even close to being over. Sure I can't convince you to change your mind? New York is a very creative place; artists everywhere clamor to work and live here. It could make you a huge success, much faster."

"I'm sure. Remember our conversation yesterday about wives?"

Lindsay realized that she had forgotten to give Justin the information about her hotel, so she made her way back to him. She overheard the question Justin asked the man standing next to him. Curious, she stayed back to listen to the man's response.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave my wife to advance my career. And you're the same way-you don't want to leave your Brian. We'll try it your way, but if it's not working, I may have to insist that you come back here."

"Oh. It will work. I'll make sure of it." Justin grinned.

Lindsay walked up to Justin. "I forgot to give you my room number and the address of the hotel. I'll be staying at..."

"The Trump Tower, penthouse suite," Justin finished her sentence.

"How did you know?" Lindsay asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"Brian always stays there. He says it has the best room service and it's always clean. I can't imagine he would change his reservation, even if he didn't keep it himself."

Lindsay nodded. "Uh Justin," she stammered. "I didn't mean to, but I overheard you talking to your agent. Are you planning on leaving New York and returning to Pittsburgh?" Before he could answer, she continued her mini-lecture. "You can't do that, Justin! It's your big chance. You've got to give New York more time! This show is so important. You can't just leave now. You'll never know if you could have made it!" Lindsay sputtered.

Justin put out his hand in a halting motion. "Lindsay, I need you to understand something. What I do with my life is my business. If I want to travel to Timbuktu for my art, then I will. I will not let you dictate what I can and can't do. I would appreciate if you did not share your opinion with Brian, either. You have your life; now, let me have mine." Justin finished his comments and looked around the room. "If you'll excuse me, I need to mingle." Justin walked off and left Lindsay with her mouth open.

The evening came to an uneventful close after another hour. Justin joined his mother and Lindsay for a late dinner, then the women returned to their respective hotels while Justin went back to his nearly empty apartment.

He walked around the near empty rooms and felt no sense of nostalgia. I never really settled here- I think I always knew I would go back. I'm a little sad, but in reality, I'm looking forward to returning to Pittsburgh. He yawned, then undressed and got ready for bed. He checked his phone, half expecting a missed message or text message from Brian, but it was blank. He thought that Brian would want to wish him good luck, but then he knew that was not Brian's way. He hoped that some day Brian would call him and wish him luck for a show, but he knew that it would not happen soon. He lay down and pulled the covers over his body, quickly falling asleep.

Brian woke up Friday morning to the sound of loud banging. He sat up quickly in bed, trying to orient himself to his surroundings. He saw the now familiar picture that Gus had drawn hanging on the small piece of cork board, and the two chairs still next to his bed.

"Shit. I can't wait to get out of this hell hole. Sleep when I want to, have a drink if I feel like it, and no body constantly barging in my room," he said under his breath.

His bladder was about to burst, so he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and carefully made his way to the bathroom to take care of it. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, thankful that Justin had brought some of his products to the hospital. He made his way back to bed and flipped on the television, watching the morning news.

A knock on the door about an hour later brought his breakfast. "Fucking oatmeal and toast." He dipped the spoon into the thick cereal and took a tentative bite. He ate half of the bowl, drank his milk and ate the banana on his tray.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he walked to the dresser where a clean pair of lounge pants were folded, dressing in those along with a clean shirt. He sat in the chair and picked up the notebook that Ted had left the night before, then began reading the detailed notes that Ted made regarding the current campaigns they were working on.

Jose came to the door about an hour later. "Ready? I see you've dressed yourself. I'm impressed. I think you will be ready to go home in a few days."

"Music to my ears," Brian said. "When can I go back to work?"

"I'm not your doctor, Brian. I can't tell you that information, but it will be a while. While you can be released from the hospital soon, your body is still healing and regaining strength. You will need some help for a week or so when you get home," Jose explained.

"What kind of help? I'm walking and can get around just fine," Brian explained.

"You're doing great in the hospital, but your home is probably two to three times as big as your hospital room. You will need someone to cook for you, and to help with laundry and cleaning. You might leave the hospital, but it doesn't mean you're able to return to your pre-accident life."

Brian shook his head and frowned. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"OK...time to walk. We'll do a long session this morning. I think you're up to it," Jose remarked.

"Okay." Brian got out of his chair and slowly walked in front of Jose to the therapy room.

"You're making great progress. From a therapy stand point, you can be released by Monday," Jose said as he watched Brian. "Why don't you walk up the stairs twice. That is about the equivalent to a set of stairs in the outside world."

Brian slowly and carefully walked up the small staircase; he didn't linger when he reached the top, but came right back down. He was sweating a little with the exertion, but turned around to walk them again.

"Great job! Why don't you sit for a minute and rest before we do any more walking. Don't want you to get too tired," Jose instructed as he pointed to the chair.

Brian shook his head in disagreement. "If I'm going to get out of here, I'd better have my strength back. I refuse to have people waiting on me hand and foot." I can just see it now...Deb coming over nightly with a carb-filled casserole, telling me to eat - that I'm too skinny. Mikey coming over to show me some geeky comic book that just arrived - trying to turn me back into an adolescent. Lindsay bringing Gus over just to show me that I can't keep up with him and ‘maybe I shouldn't have him for awhile.' Ted being solicitous like he was when I had cancer, and of course, Ms. Honeycutt who will bring me hordes of fattening catering food to try since ‘he knows that I can't cook since I'm convalescing.' Justin'd better get his ass back home before I get discharged...

What the fuck did I just think? Justin better get his ass back home? Since when is Pittsburgh his home? Shit, who am I fooling? No one, not even myself! I want Justin here... can't go there right now. I've got to concentrate on walking right now.

Brian walked up and down the stairs and walked around the therapy room. "You've done a great job. I think its time to go back to your room," Jose said.

Brian sighed loudly, "Yeah. I'm tired. We're still on for this afternoon, though?" Brian questioned.

"I'll see you later in the day, before I go home. You did a lot today and I don't want you getting hurt."

"Yes, mother," Brian answered, tongue in cheek. He returned to his room and sat down in the chair.

Brian looked at the clock, realizing he had several hours before lunch would arrive. He pulled out his notes again and began his work for the day. The afternoon passed quickly, and he was very pleased with his progress. He had read through all the notes Ted brought and talked to Cynthia several times. She was pleased to hear that he'd be discharged soon, and would probably return in several weeks.

Jose came to work with Brian about 4:30 in the afternoon. "You ready? Your body should have had plenty of time to rest and recuperate."

"Let's go Hoss," Brian responded.

Jose laughed at the old television reference. "Didn't think you'd be into old Western serials," he commented.

"I'm in advertising. I have to know many references to appeal to different audiences. Besides, the old Western serials were filled with hot men. Gave me many a good wet dream." Brian smirked.

Jose shook his head and grinned. "What would Justin think if he heard you talking like that."

Brian looked at Jose, a puzzled expression on his face. "Justin and I aren't married."

"I know. Just kidding. Let's get started."

Brian walked across the room several times, then went to the steps, where he climbed the mini-staircase twice as well.

"Great job, Brian. You really have regained your strength. I'm going to recommend that you be released on Monday. That gives you two more days before you go home."

"You've been a real torture master, but if that means I get to go home soon, it will all be worth it. Since I'm doing so well, you think I can take a shower? These sponge baths don't really make me feel clean."

"I thought you did that yesterday?" Jose questioned.

"Too tired, but today I feel fine." Brian bowed a little as he answered.

"I don't see why not. It will be a good test of your abilities. Be sure to tell the nurses when you go in, so they can check on you."

"Those nurses want to check on me, all right. It's a good thing I'm queer or I'd have more of them wanting to give me a sponge bath," Brian half kidded.

"Time for you to go back to your room. Do you want to walk or ride in your carriage?"
Jose joked as he pointed to the wheelchair.

"I'll walk. Better get used to it. No one is pushing Brian Kinney in a wheelchair once he leaves this place." Brian made his way to the doorway, and walked slowly but methodically toward his room.

Jose walked beside him, watching for signs of fatigue. Once Brian was safely in his room, he waved and said "See you tomorrow. Enjoy your shower!" Jose grinned as he walked out of the room.

Brian was tired, but he really wanted his shower today. This was a perfect opportunity, alone for the evening and no one expected. He would be really clean for the first time in at least a month. I can't imagine what my stylist would say if he saw the mess on my head. Brian gathered clean clothes and walked to the bathroom. His kit was already in the small room and he got out his shampoo and body wash, placing them in the shower. He took off his dirty clothes and dropped them on the floor, and then turned to the handles, adjusting the water to the correct temperature.

Stepping into the shower, he felt the long-missed warm water against his skin. He sighed in contentment as the water sluiced over his skin, luxuriating in the shower spray. He poured shampoo in his hand, and then washed his hair. Sudsing the liquid, he smelled the familiar scent of Sexual Pour Homme shampoo and smiled. Justin had bought the shampoo as a joke, the name symbolizing Brian's look on life. He ended up liking the product, so he continued to purchase it. He washed his hair twice, running his fingers through his long locks to ensure that the soap was all gone. Gathering the washcloth, he squirted some body wash on the cloth, sudsing the liquid. Carefully he bent down and washed each leg. He allowed his mind to wander when he cleaned his leg with the long scar, trying to avoid the imperfection. He washed his arms, torso and back. He lifted his sack to wash his perineum and felt his cock get hard. Closing his eyes, he envisioned Justin in the shower, stroking his cock, sliding over the slippery hardness.

Justin loved to play with his cock and balls in the shower. He thought it had something to do with nostalgia and that first shower they took together. He remembered how he turned Justin around to wash his hair, and then pushed him against the shower door to fuck him. That sweet virgin ass was tight, but worth the effort. Smiling, he realized he probably fucked Justin thousands of times in the shower... and still enjoyed it. I'm a fucking lesbian. What have they done to my brain?

Putting down the washcloth, he soaped his finger and ran it along his crack, enjoying the teasing. With his other hand, he stroked his cock into full hardness. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the dual stimulation of the delicious sensations. He slipped his finger into the tight hole. Damn, I'm tight. While I may not bottom very often, I do love a finger up my ass. I'll have to get Justin to do it more often. I'm sure he won't object. Stroking his cock in time to the pumping motion of his finger, Brian quickly felt his balls tighten, a precursor of his impending release. He sped up his hand, pulling and squeezing at the engorged head, and felt the sweet release of come spread over his fingers. He called out, "Justinnnn," then felt his body jerk as he fell to the floor.
___________________________________________

The night nurse found him there two hours later when she came to check his blood pressure. She turned off the now-cold water and called his name, "Mr. Kinney! Mr. Kinney!" She touched his shoulder, trying to get a response.

He shivered in the cold and turned toward the nurse. "What the fuck am I doing down here?" He placed his hands on the floor and attempted to stand. "AHHH!!!!" he yelled as pain radiated down his leg.

"Are you okay?" the night nurse asked.

"IF I WAS FUCKING OKAY, DO YOU THINK I WOULD YELL LIKE THAT? NO I'M NOT OKAY!"

"Where do you hurt?" She looked at his body, crumpled on the floor, trying to see if there were any visible injuries.

"IT'S MY FUCKING LEG. I CAN'T PUT ANY WEIGHT ON IT, YOU BITCH. NOW HELP ME OUT OF HERE SO I CAN PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"

"Of course. I'll be right back." She turned and pressed the button for help. "Mr. Kinney has fallen in the shower and I need some assistance to get him up. He seems to have injured his leg."

Two orderlies came in to the bathroom, lifted Brian out of the shower and dried him off before returning him to bed. The nurse assisted him in to a hospital gown before taking his vitals and looking at this leg. His lower leg was turning a mottled purple and appeared swollen.

She pushed the call button again. "Please call Dr. Moya. I think Mr. Kinney needs to be examined."

Dr. Moya came to the room within half an hour and examined Brian. "Mr. Kinney, do you remember what happened?"

"I took a shower and next thing I knew I woke up on the floor in freezing cold water."

"I see. Did you feel light headed or dizzy when you were showering?"

"A little, but I figured I was tired," Brian explained, wondering where the line of questioning was headed.

"I'd like to do some tests. Make sure everything is okay." He wrote down his orders on the chart.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No. I'll send you down for an x-ray of that leg and then we'll do a head CT and some blood work. Can't be too cautious, Mr. Kinney."

"Whatever."

"I'll see you in a few hours."

After several hours, the tests were finished and Brian was returned to his room.

Dr. Moya came in about 9:00. "Mr. Kinney, you have fractured your tibia. I'll give you something for the pain, apply some ice, and in the morning, we'll see if we can cast it."

"Why can't you cast it now?"

"If it swells a lot, the cast will be too loose as the swelling goes down. We need to wait to cast it. Your other tests came back negative except for somewhat low blood sugar. It is very important for you to eat, Mr. Kinney. You probably passed out in the shower due to hypoglycemia. You're lucky you didn't injure yourself more."

"Yeah, fucking lucky. So, Doc, can I still be sprung from your lovely establishment on Monday?" Brian asked hopefully.

"Do you have someone to assist you when you go home?"

‘Yes," Brian answered, feeling like a child Gus' age.

"Then I don't see any reason to keep you. A broken leg will not prevent you from going home. You've made a remarkable recovery, Mr. Kinney."

"Great," Brian said in relief.

"I'll release you Mr. Kinney, but I would still like you to consider some treatment for addiction."

Brian ignored Dr. Moya's last comment. "Can I have the pain meds now? My leg hurts like a son of a bitch."

"Of course." Turning toward the nurse, Dr. Moya ordered some Vicodin for Brian and wrote his orders in Brian's chart.

"Good night, Mr. Kinney. I'll see you in the morning.

The nurse returned with Brian's medication and he swallowed them quickly, lying back on the pillows, waiting for the drugs to work.
_

Justin met his mom in the lobby of her hotel. Lindsay had declined the invitation, saying she would use her unexpected vacation to sleep in late.

"Your show was wonderful, sweetheart! I am so proud of you- I can't believe you sold almost all your work before the night was over. I'm sure by the end of the run, it will all be gone," Jennifer said as she gave him a hug in the lobby of the hotel.

"Thanks, Mom. I know Brian would be so proud of me. He always said to celebrate accomplishments, and I intend to celebrate when I get back to Pittsburgh ." He grinned as he thought of the many ways they could celebrate.

Jennifer looked at her watch and motioned toward the restaurant at the other end of the hotel lobby. "I know we don't have a lot of time before we have to leave, so we better go eat."

They walked toward the restaurant and were seated immediately. "This place is really nice. Did Brian book it for you?"

"No. Your father and I stayed here several times when we'd travel."

Justin winced at the mention of his father. "Oh. It seems nice. Didn't think Dad would go for such extravagance," he commented half joking.

The waitress handed them their menus and took their drink orders. She returned a few moments later and they both ordered; Justin a breakfast of eggs, ham, toast, hashbrowns and pancakes, while Jennifer order eggs and toast.

"Did you get an opportunity to talk to Lindsay? She was looking for you."

"Yes. She was very impressed with the show. She said she couldn't believe how much you've grown as a painter since she first met you. We reminisced about your first show at the GLC, and had a good laugh."

Justin looked puzzled, his frown deepening at his mother's statement.

"I was so proud of you then, your first show. Of course that was tempered by meeting Brian. I was faced with the reality of your first lover."

"Mom..." Justin started to talk.

"Let me finish. Every mother knows that their child will one day grow up and become a mature adult, and that involves sex. It's another to be face to face with the person your child is having sex with. Since you were still in high school and Brian was a grown man, well, that made it even harder to swallow."

Justin nodded and let his mom continue.

"While I didn't like Brian in the beginning and I would have preferred your first to be someone more your own age, I have grown fond of him. I actually really like him. I'm proud of you Justin, standing by your man when he needs you the most. Not everyone would do that."

"Of course, I'll stand by Brian. I love him, and while he has a real problem saying it, he loves me too."

Their food arrived, and they ate in companionable silence for a few moments.

"So you haven't changed your mind about returning to Pittsburgh ?" Jennifer took a drink of her coffee.

"This show has made my resolution even stronger. These paintings are good and they sold well, but my true inspiration is when I'm with Brian. I believe the work I'll produce in Pittsburgh will be phenomenal," Justin gushed.

"Justin, have you talked to Brian about this? I'm worried that you are making plans, and he won't be happy about them. Brian is a very independent man...."

"Mom. Please, let's talk about something else. My and Brian's relationship is not up for discussion right now." Justin paused for a few moments, finishing his pancakes. "Did you find Molly's present?"

Jennifer signaled for the check. "Yes, I did. I'm having a family party on the 29th. Do you think you can come? You could bring Brian if you want."

Justin laughed. "Brian would not come to Molly's sixteenth birthday party. A bunch of noisy, giggly females together would make his skin crawl. He would so kill me." Justin buttered his mom's toast as she had pushed her plate away. He bit into the slightly cold bread, but ate it anyway. "What time is it, and will Craig be there?"

"It's for dinner, Tucker is barbequing. I didn't invite your father. He already said something about taking her to the country club for dinner on her actual birthday."

"Okay. I'll have to see if Brian needs me, but if not, I can come for a while. I can't believe Mollusk is going to be sixteen. It seems like she should just be turning nine or ten."

"That's because you left home when she was that age." Jennifer placed her credit card on the bill and waited for the waitress to return. "I really enjoyed this weekend, Justin. You're not a child anymore...I'm so very pleased with the man you've become. Do you have another show any time soon?"

Justin fiddled with his spoon as he stirred his coffee. "Sam said something about a show in four to six months, but I didn't want to commit to anything. I have to look for studio space when I get back in Pittsburgh. I'm sure Brian would have a fit if I painted in the loft. Could you be on the lookout for something? Cheap is always good."

"I'll start looking next week. What is your price range?"

"I was paying $850 a month in New York, but I'm hoping I can find something for $500 or less in Pittsburgh . I don't need a lot of space, just a lot of light and running water. A bathroom would be good, but it's okay if it's down the hall. Something by the loft would be great, but I'll go as far as PIFA," Justin explained his parameters.

"I'll let you know when I have some properties for you to look at." Jennifer pushed her chair out and grabbed her purse. "We need to call a cab."

"I ordered the limo to pick us at 10:00 before he swings by Lindsay's hotel. Might as well get Brian's money's worth. Even if he isn't here, I can still enjoy the ride... and it beats a cab."

Jennifer laughed at the easy way her son incorporated Brian's lifestyle. "I see you have picked up a few tricks from Brian." She walked toward the front desk. "I checked out earlier, and the concierge is holding my bag. Let me get it."

"I'll get it, mom. Stay here and watch for the limo," Justin instructed.

Justin retrieved Jennifer's bag, and the limo drove up a few moments later. They got in and drove to Lindsay's hotel. The ride was short and neither said anything, but chose to look out the window, viewing New York through their own eyes.
________________________________________

Brian did not sleep well that night, tossing and turning as he tried to stave off the pain and keep his leg still. The transporter arrived early in the morning, taking him down to the orthopedic floor. He took him in his bed, as he was unsure if he could safely be transported in a wheelchair. The doctor examined him and reviewed the x-ray.

"Mr. Kinney, it appears that swelling isn't too significant, and we can cast your leg this morning. You will need to stay off the leg for at least a week and then we can determine if you can have a walking cast. Of course, you'll need to keep the cast absolutely dry."

"Fuck," Brian said after hearing the doctor's orders. "Can't I at least use crutches?"

"We'll see. You have a stick fracture, probably related to the weakness in the leg from your previous injury. I don't want you putting any weight on it for at least a week. We will take another x-ray then and see how it is healing."

"So how am I supposed to get around? The docs say I can leave on Monday," Brian asked.

"You'll have to use a wheelchair. Is your home accessible? If not, you might want to see if any of your friends will let you stay with them for a while."

Brian envisioned the front of his building again, but still couldn't remember if there was a ramp. He knew he could use the elevator, and the couch slept fine, even if it was a little short. Damn, and I was so looking forward to fucking Justin. Guess that will have to wait for a while. Shit! Justin will kill me when he sees this leg. And Debbie will chew me a new one, telling me I should have been more careful. It's all Justin's fault, if I wasn't thinking of him in the shower, then I wouldn't have jerked off...

While Brian was pondering his new challenges, the doctor began casting his leg. It was quickly set and finished.

"Mr. Kinney. Are you okay?" The doctor asked after calling Brian's name several times.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I asked if you felt a pounding in your leg. Don't want the cast too tight, it could cause permanent damage. Now, do you feel your blood pounding in the leg?"

"No."

"Good. Then I think we're done here. I'll put my office number on your discharge papers. Be sure to make an appointment with my office to come in at the end of next week, and we'll take those first x-rays."

The orderly wheeled him to his room. While the bed was comfortable, he didn't want to be in it all day. He asked the orderly, "Can you help me in the wheelchair? I don't want to sit in bed all day." The orderly helped into the wheelchair, leaving the leg position elevated. He pulled the bed tray over to Brian and left him with his breakfast.

Brian ate a few bites of eggs and toast, and drank his orange juice. Justin is due back around lunchtime. Maybe I can convince him to bring me some decent food.

A knock on the door brought Jose in to view. "Brian! What happened?"

"I took a shower and fell. Now I've got a fucking broken leg," Brian bitched.

"Well, guess we won't be doing any therapy today. Will they discharge you on Monday?"

"Doc says I can still go home, but I can't put any fucking weight on my leg. I have to use this piece of shit chair for at least a week. Guess I'll have to find out if that ramp is there after all," Brian deadpanned, dreading that conversation.

"So sorry, man. I guess you'll be back for more therapy when the leg heals. At least it will be outpatient. I'll see you then."

"Stop. What do you mean, more therapy? I thought we were about done," Brian questioned before Jose left the room.

"It will take at least eight weeks for your leg to heal, and you will need some more therapy to regain the full strength in it."

"Shit! I'm never leaving this fucking medical stuff behind."

"I've got to go, Brian. Good luck, and I'll see you in a few months."

Brian pressed the call button and asked that the tray be removed, and he be given his paperwork from the desk.

Brian had been working on a new campaign for Brown Athletics fall line, when there was another knock on the door.

"What the fuck do you want?" he yelled without looking up from his papers.

"Oh my fucking god!!! What the hell happened?" Debbie said as she walked over to Brian, giving him a kiss on the cheek and then smearing her lipstick off.

"I fell in the fucking shower and broke my leg," Brian answered as he put down his pencil.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay! I have a broken leg," Brian repeated.

Debbie sat down in the opposite chair, staring at Brian, not saying anything.

"I'm not a circus animal, and I didn't grow horns overnight. What the fuck are you staring at, Deb?" Brian demanded.

Debbie shook her head. "Sorry. I'm just trying to picture your place. Can you walk?"

"Nope. Doc says I'm in this cozy chair for at least a week."

"Don't worry. I'll get Michael and Ben and Hunter and some of the boys from the diner to help you get in the loft. We'll take care of you. Don't you worry." Debbie got up to give Brian a hug but he feinted out of her way.

"Debbie, I do not need any help. I'm not an invalid," Brian groused.

"No. You're not an invalid, you just have a broken leg and you can't stand up. Now you listen to me. I'll call Michael and let him know what you're going to need so he can gather up the troops, and I'll cook you some puttanesca and some tuna casserole. Those are your favorites; I remember." Debbie stopped rattling off her ideas when she gazed at the clock. "Shit. I'm going to be late for my shift. I gotta go, Brian. I'll be back this afternoon. Get some rest." She leaned down and kissed him again; this time, he allowed her kiss.

Brian groaned loudly, but only said, "Goodbye, Deb." He watched Debbie leave his hospital room, and wished for Justin to return soon.

When Debbie got to the diner she had ten minutes before her shift started, so she called Michael.

"Hello," Michael said groggily as he picked up the phone on the first ring.

"Good, you're awake," Debbie remarked.

"Ma," Michael said as he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. "It's not even 8:00. What's wrong?"

"You need to get to the hospital, Brian's been hurt," she urgently commanded.

"Ma. Slow down. You're not making any sense. Brian's been in the hospital for the last three weeks. How could he get hurt?" Michael asked as he got up out of bed and moved to the kitchen.

"He broke his fucking leg. Now, you need to go up there and cheer him up. Justin's still in New York, and he's all alone. He's going to need your help," Debbie explained as she talked quickly in to the phone.

"Shit! Are they going to let him go home? How is he going to get in the loft? How is he..."

"Michael Charles Novotny. Get dressed and go to the hospital. I have to start my shift. I'll see you when I get off, and we'll figure it all out," Debbie said before she disconnected the phone.

Ben woke up when he heard Michael on the phone. Glancing at the clock and seeing the early hour, he quickly got out of bed and joined his husband in the living room. Michael was holding the phone in his hand and staring at it.

"Michael," Ben said softly, trying to be quiet and not wake Hunter. "Who called?"

"That was Ma. Brian broke his leg and is in a wheelchair. He's really depressed and she wants me to go down and see him. Justin's out of town and I guess he can't come. That little shit. He races to Pittsburgh when Brian's in the hospital, but when things start to get better, he leaves for fancy New York and forgets about Brian. I'm going to make sure Brian knows he can't rely on Justin."

Ben rubs Michael's back and kisses him softly on his temple. "Now Michael, don't make any harsh judgments about Justin. You know he had to go to New York because he had a show. Knowing Brian, he hasn't even told Justin about his leg. Why don't we get dressed, get something to eat and go down to the hospital. I know you'll feel better once you've seen Brian."

"I've got to call Ted and Em. They'll want to know about Brian."

Ben shook his head in agreement. "Why don't you wait a little while? It's still really early. Let's get dressed and eat, and then we'll call the guys."

Michael turned and hugged Ben. "I love you. You're right. Join me in the shower?" He smiled wickedly as he grabbed Ben's hand.

After they showered and made love in the warm water, they dressed, and grabbed a quick bite. Ben had recently received a sizable advance from the publisher for his new book, and used that money to make a down payment on a car. They got in the car and made their way down to the hospital in record time.

"It's really nice to be able to hop in the car and go anywhere. It'll take me some time to get used to the luxury," Michael commented as he opened the car door at the hospital parking lot.

"Cars are nice, but I still prefer my bike or walking. Times like this, though, they do come in handy. Speaking of cars, does Brian still drive his Corvette?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised he hasn't upgraded to something more flashy, but you never know with Brian. Why?"

"Our car may come in handy when he leaves the hospital. He may not be able to get in his car with a cast on his leg. The Corvette is really close to the ground, and I don't think it really has a back seat."

Michael turned to kiss Ben. "You're so smart. Must be why I love you." He walked to the hospital door and started to go inside. "Shit! I didn't call Em and Ted. Let me do that before we go up."

The phone rang in Em's apartment, and he picked it up after the second ring. "Divine Party Planning. How may I help you?" Emmett crooned into the receiver.

"Em... it's Michael. Brian got hurt at the hospital and broke his leg. You'd better get down here. Ma said he's really down and won't eat."

"Oh sweetie, how terrible! Brian is just having a string of bad luck lately, the poor boy. I'll get dressed right away and come down to cheer him up. I'll bring some of those salmon cakes that he liked last week. He really gobbled those down," Emmett said as he started looking for an outfit that was cheerful and appropriate for the hospital. "I'll get ready and be right down."

"Thanks, Em. I've gotta call Ted. See you soon."

Michael called Ted.

"Hello," Ted answered.

"Ted, its Michael."

"I have caller ID. I know who it is," Ted responded.

"You need to get down to the hospital right away. Brian got hurt and broke his leg and he's really depressed. He hasn't eaten and sits in the dark. We have to help him," Michael whined.

"Calm down, Michael. How did he break his leg in the hospital?"

"I don't know. Ma was there this morning and she called me right after she left the hospital. He's in really bad shape," Michael explained.

"Okay. Okay. I'll be there in a little while. Have you called Em?"

"Yeah. Right before you. He's coming too. We've got to help Brian."

"See you soon, Michael. I'll be there," Ted assured Michael.

Ted showered and got dressed and then went to the hospital.

Michael joined Ben in the lobby. "You think I should get him some balloons. Maybe they'd cheer him up," Michael asked.

Ben put his hands on Michael's shoulders, turning Michael toward him. "Michael, this is Brian we're talking about. Brian does not do balloons, cutesy cards or flowers. You bring him cigarettes and beer- neither of which you can bring while he is here. Brian is not dying; he just broke his leg. Now, let's go see him."

Michael gave Ben a hug. "You're right. It's the Italian coming out in me." He sheepishly grinned.

They rode up the elevator and walked quickly to Brian's room. Michael knocked but didn't wait for an answer before barging in to Brian's room.

"Brian, I'm here. Are you okay? Are you in pain? What the fuck did you do? Do you need anything?..."

Brian turned toward the door and waved Ben in. "Ah, I see the Pittsburgh gay grapevine is up and working. I assume Deb called you," Brian remarked as he motioned for them to sit in the chairs.

Michael leaned down and kissed Brian quickly on the mouth. "It's going to be fine. I'll take care of you. I can get Hunter to watch the store..."

"Mikey, stop. I'm not dying. I just broke my leg. Justin will be able to help me just fine."

Michael looked at Brian sitting in the wheelchair, leg outstretched, wrapped in plaster; it was very disturbing. Brian looks so vulnerable. First the overdose, and now a broken leg. Brian Kinney is not supposed to be here! Wait, I'm freaking out here. This isn't Ben, where a stay in the hospital could mean he's not coming home. I've got to get a grip.

"So you're not dying, but jeez, Brian, what happened? I mean, you're in the fucking hospital! How do you break your leg in the hospital?"

Brian placed his papers on the tray table in front of him and turned toward Michael. "I took a fucking shower, and I passed out. Doc says I had low blood sugar from not eating. Mind you, if they had any decent food in this crappy hospital I might eat, but..." Brian finished with a disgusted look.

Michael grinned at Brian's little tirade. He must be okay if he's berating the food and the hospital. Brian Kinney is alive and well, just a little broken at the moment. "So, you were taking a shower. Didn't the nurses know to come check up on you?"

"I didn't tell them. I'm not Gus, who needs to be checked on whenever he's left alone for five minutes. How much damage could I do to myself while taking a shower? I've been cleaning myself up since I was five, probably younger, knowing what I do of St. Joan's mothering skills," Brian explained as he faced forward. "You're going to have to move your chair Mikey. Fucking leg is hard to maneuver, and my side is hurting like a son of a bitch."

Michael picked up the chair and placed it opposite Brian. "Now you don't have to twist to see me. Sorry, Brian."

"Sorry's bullshit. Haven't I taught you anything through the years, Mikey?" Brian chided.

A silence lay in the room, the three men quiet.

"With the cast, are the doctors still going to release you on Monday?" Ben asked, trying to break the silence.

Brian groaned. "Yep. They say a broken leg isn't enough of a reason to keep me in Chez Allegheny any longer. I'll be fucking glad to leave, too. The room has a fucking revolving door... and I thought the loft was bad! At least there, I can have my trusty gatekeeper tell everyone to go away." Brian grinned at the thought of Justin, his gatekeeper.

"From your grin, I guess you mean Justin?" Ben questioned.

"The little shit was only allowed to return from ‘Nude York' if he promised to be my gatekeeper."

"So he's coming back?" Michael asked, the whine in his voice barely disguised.

"Yeah. In fact..." Brian looked at the clock above his bed. "He should be leaving there about now. Mother Taylor and Lindsay went to see his show." Brian looked at Michael, his face showing a thinly-veiled look of acceptance. "Seems he thinks he needs to be here."

"He doesn't have to come back, Brian. I can take care of you. I've already talked to Hunter about taking some extra shifts at the store, and Ma told me she'll cook for you. I'm sure Em can come and stay with you between appointments- He's not that busy during the week. And Ben can help out during the weekends. He doesn't have classes, and he can prepare his lectures at your place as easy as at ours." Michael enthused as he looked at Ben for conformation of his plans.

Ben walked over to Michael, placing his hand on Michael's shoulder. He saw Brian's face as a slight scowl began to form, deepening as Michael outlined his plans.

"Mikey! I told you, Justin is coming back. It's his choice, and like I just told you, I want him here. Besides, I don't want a fucking revolving door at the loft. I'm tired of people coming in at all hours of the night and day to poke and prod my body. Not to mention, lying in bed all day and not fucking is really boring." Brian stopped his explanation as he thought of the phone sex he and Justin shared the other night. He felt the blood flowing to his cock and tried to ignore the sensation. "At least if I'm in bed at my loft, Justin can be giving me a blow job to pass the time. I'm afraid my dick is seriously going to implode when I get home; it's only been serviced a few times in the last month."

Michael grinned when he heard Brian complaining, assured that his friend was back to normal. Then, what Brian had said registered. "What did you just say? You mean, you and Justin had sex in your hospital room? I can't believe you Brian!"

Brian grinned at Michael's discomfort. "Why Michael, you're turning red. Of course Justin and I got off. Only a few times. Seems the young man has a few proprietary notions still left intact. I will have to work on ridding him of his prudishness."

"But weren't you worried that someone would come in? What would the nurses say? You could get into a lot of trouble." Michael frowned as he looked at Brian.

"What could they do, Michael... call the cops to report me for indecent exposure?" Brian made a phone receiver sign with his pinky and thumb. "'Excuse me, sir, you need to send a policeman right away. We have a patient here that is exposing himself.' The police would laugh their asses off. The most they could have done would be to tell Justin to stop, and then the poor boy would have been so embarrassed he would've refused to blow me until I got home. Luckily for all parties involved, that didn't happen, and I will be getting out of here in a few days time."

Brian picked up his papers, shuffling them in some unknown order. "I've got work to do before Justin comes back this afternoon. If you'll leave, I might get some of it done."

"But Brian, what about when you leave here... How are you going to get home? Can you get in the loft? I'm sure you'll need our help!"

Ben turned Michael around, kissing him quiet. "Michael, nothing needs to be decided today. Brian has work to do, and you need to get to the store. Didn't you tell me there is a new issue of Rage coming out next week, and that you had to set up the posters in the store and on Liberty Avenue to advertise?"

Brian nodded toward Ben, silently showing his appreciation of the big man's tactics.

"You're right. I do have a lot to do. I'll come back tonight to keep you company, Brian," Michael announced.

"Michael, I think Brian would rather be alone with Justin tonight. After all, he hasn't seen him for three days, and I'm sure he would like to hear about the show," Ben reminded his husband.

Michael stood up and leaned over Brian, kissing him on the lips. " OK. Well, I guess I'll see ya."

"You too, Mikey. Now professor, why don't you take your husband to work, and let me get some work done as well."

"Take care, Brian. Say hi to Justin for me." Ben replied, and then he and Michael left the room and walked down to the lobby.

"I can't believe he wants Justin to help him. I didn't think he would be that way," Michael commented to Ben as they made their way to the parking lot.

"Why not? If I were sick, I'd want you there. What's the difference?" Ben clicked the automatic doors and the locks unlocked.

Michael climbed in and grabbed his seatbelt, buckling it as he looked at Ben in the driver seat. "Of course I'd want you there, you're my husband! But Justin isn't Brian's husband. He lives in New York, and Brian lives here. They're not even together."

"Michael, you need to stop thinking of Brian as single person. He may not live in the same city as Justin, but he and Justin are together. He's told you that he wants him here with him, and that should be enough for you. Let Brian grow up." Ben turned the key in the ignition and turned around to back out of the spot.

"What do you mean, grow up? He's 35 years old. Of course, he's grown up," Michael said as he questioned Ben.

Ben pulled out of the spot and drove to the far corner of the hospital lot, and then turned off the car.

"What are you doing? I thought we were leaving; I have to get to work," Michael asked.

"I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving," Ben explained. He turned toward Michael and spoke slowly, but sternly. "Michael, I've watched you and Brian for over five years now, and many things have changed during that time. We found Hunter, adopted him, got married, moved away from Liberty Avenue and are living a wonderful life. During that time, Brian and Justin have changed, too. Brian asked Justin to marry him and Justin agreed. Even though they didn't get married, they were still in each other's lives. The fact that Brian never changed his Power of Attorney and kept Justin as his Medical Proxy means he still felt Justin was a very important part of his life. Brian is a business man, first and foremost, and he does not leave things like that to chance." He paused while he let his words sink in. Leaning over he kissed Michael on the lips, and then continued. "He's told you he wants Justin here; I think, maybe, this overdose was a wake up call for him. Maybe he's ready to change. Don't make him choose between you and Justin. You'll lose."

Michael sat back in his seat, closing his eyes against the words Ben spoke. "But I'm his best friend...I know him better than anyone," Michael started his familiar chant.

"Michael." Ben took his chin and turned his face towards him, caressing it gently. "You're not fourteen anymore, and neither is Brian. He'll always be your friend, but I think it's time for Justin to be his best friend."

"But..."Michael began.

Ben kissed him quiet and Michael savored the moment.

"I guess Justin is his best friend. After all, didn't he say he was his gatekeeper?"

Ben nodded. "Yes."

"I guess Brian still has his walls to protect himself. I hope he'll be okay," Michael said sadly.

"He hasn't gone away Michael, just grew up. You grew up, now its Brian's turn."

"I'll still visit him. Justin can't keep me away," Michael said with defiance.

"Justin doesn't want you to stay away, and neither does Brian. We just have to allow them the chance to be together, to heal," Ben said.

"I love you, Ben Bruckner. You're so smart. How did I ever get so lucky?"

"I love you too, Michael Novotny Bruckner. Now, let's get you to work so you can sell the public their next installment of Rage. Do you think you'll make a comic based on Brian's overdose? I know the comic has mirrored their lives..."

Michael thought for a few moments before answering. " I don't think so. Rage has to have some secrets. I'll talk it over with Justin and see what he thinks, but we have a while yet. There are still three issues at the printers."

Ben turned the car on and got on the Turnpike. Getting off at Liberty Avenue, he let Michael off in front of the comic book store.

Michael leaned over and kissed his husband before opening the door. "Thanks for everything this morning. See you tonight."

"I'll pick you up at 6:00. Hunter's going out with some friends from school. Maybe we could rent a movie or something."

Michael smiled cockily, ducking his head back in the car. "Or something." He shut the car door, and then took out his keys to open the store.

"Attention passengers. We're approaching Pittsburgh International Airport. Please put your seats and lap tables in an upright position. Please turn off any cell phones and electronic equipment until we have landed. A flight attendant will be walking around to gather any trash. Thank you for flying Liberty Air, and have a nice day," the flight attendant enthused over the airline intercom.

Justin looked out the window of the airplane at the Allegheny River, its meandering shores a familiar landmark for the city. His mind drifted back to a 6th grade geography lesson where his teacher gave each student the assignment to prepare a report on a local point of interest, and he'd been assigned the river. At first he thought it was a silly assignment, but then his mom had encouraged him to make a scale model of the river and report on its impact on the region. He worked on the scale river for weeks and got an "A" on the project. He had placed blue saran wrap on top of clay and placed little boats on the river. All of his friends thought his river was fascinating, way better than their boring poster boards. That was the first time I used my artistic talent for school. I owe everything to that geography teacher. What was her name?

His mother looked at him, placing her hand on his forearm. "The way you're looking out the window and practically jumping out of your seat, you'd think you'd never been in an airplane before," Jennifer gently teased him.

"I'm just happy to be back. I can't wait to tell Brian about the show and all the paintings I sold. And, he's supposed to be going home on Monday." Justin paused smiling his famous grin at his mother. "Mom. I know what it means to be an adult. For the first time in my life, I feel I have direction, a plan. For so many years, I've reacted to circumstances that have been out of my control. I met Brian and Dad kicked me out of my home." Justin saw his mom wince and start to respond, but he shook his head no, signaling that he wanted to continue his thoughts. "I went to live with Brian and got kicked out again. Then I got bashed, came home, and then went to live with Brian again. Both of those times he took me in because of circumstance. We've lived together off and on for most of my adult life, and I hope to live with him again, this time permanently."

The plane started to descend and Justin popped a piece of gum in his mouth, offering one to his mother. They placed the wrapper in the bag located on the lap table. Justin turned back to his mom and continued his conversation.

"Moving to New York was important for my career, but Brian had a lot to do with the move. In our own way, we agreed that I needed to go. Now, I'm moving back and it is a decision I've made solely on my own. I'm supporting myself with my painting and I've made a name for myself. I've grown up, and I'm not going to let anyone dictate where I should live my life; not Sam, my agent, not Lindsay, and not even Brian," Justin finished his little speech, hoping his mom understood.

"Justin, you know I just want you to be happy," Jennifer started her conversation. She saw Justin nod and continued. "But what if things with Brian don't work out? What will you do?"

Justin sighed loudly, took a deep breath and answered. "Mom. I will always love him and even if we're not together, he'll always be my friend and mentor. Don't forget that he asked me to marry him once. He still loves me, and I love him. I've got to do this. Please give me your support."

"Of course, sweetheart." Jennifer squeezed Justin's forearm again as the plane landed.

Lindsay was in the seat behind them and heard much of the conversation, but she didn't add her thoughts.

As they got off the plane, Justin looked at the women. "I ordered a limo to take us all home. I figured everyone would be busy on a Saturday morning, and I know no one wants to drive out here. When I used to come back from New York, Brian would just send the limo to pick me up. He hated the drive through two counties to get home," Justin announced to the women. "Let's get our luggage and find our ride." He walked to the baggage carousel and waited for his luggage. Once it arrived, they went outside and quickly found their limo.

The three sat back in the limo and looked out at the familiar sites.

"When do you want to come to dinner, Justin?" Lindsay asked after ten minutes of silence.

"Oh. I'd totally forgotten about that," Justin admitted.

Lindsay frowned at his statement.

"But, I do want to come. I bought Gus a present in New York and I want to give it to him." Justin smiled when he saw Lindsay's face soften at the mention of his gift.

"Brian's supposed to be released on Monday. Why don't we say Thursday? That should give us a few days to get him settled and used to the loft again. Hopefully, the family will let him rest, not be coming and going like usual."

"That sounds wonderful. I know Gus will be excited. He's missed you since you've been in New York." She smiled sweetly.

That bitch. I'd love to just reach over and smack her. I wouldn't have been in New York if she hadn't shown Brian that article. Of course, I do owe her for showing him that article, but..... I just wish she would let Brian be a dad to Gus and let us lead our lives without her interference. Of course, if wishes were.... Shit I can't remember that saying, but I know it fits.

"I hope to be around a lot more these days, so I'm sure I'll be seeing Gus a lot. He's grown up so much since last summer. I guess he'll be starting school soon."

"He's already in school, 2nd grade and JR will be in pre-kindergarten next fall," Lindsay informed Justin.

"Wow. I guess I've been so busy I didn't realize it. That makes sense, I've known Brian for over seven years and we met the night Gus was born."

Lindsay nodded her head in agreement and Jennifer winced a little.

"I think I'm going to try to take a quick nap. I didn't get much sleep these last few days, been really busy packing the apartment, shopping for Molly's present and attending the show," Justin explained as he yawned.

"You packed your apartment?" Jennifer asked in astonishment.

"Yep. No reason to make another trip when I've decided to come back here. Besides I had to let the super know he can rent it again. I paid the last two months rent, but the next time I come back, I'll stay in a hotel. Hotels are much nicer than my apartment." Justin leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes.

The driver dropped Lindsay and Jennifer off first. He left his things at his mom's, hoping that either she or Daphne would bring them to Daphne's later that night. He then had the driver drop him off at the hospital, tipping the driver generously. He made his way up to the fifth floor, his heart starting to pound in anticipation of seeing Brian.

As he rounded the corner to Brian's room, he heard voices coming from his room. He wondered what the heated discussion was this time.

"Brian, I can have some Kinnetik employees come and take you home. You know John, in accounting, is a body builder. And Sam in the print shop is always at the gym. Why last week..."

"Teddy, don't be ridiculous. Brian doesn't want Kinnetik staff helping him get in the building. Why that would show weakness and you know Brian is not weak. I'll just get Drew to enlist some of his football buddies to help Brian and his heavy cast up the stairs to the loft. My Drewsie is so strong." Emmett held his hand to his chest as he smiled.

"Well you do have a point, Em. I'm sure the staff would help Brian out, but the scuttlebutt would be heavy. Imagine what they would say if they saw the loft and his beautiful furniture. Not to mention the paintings on the wall."

"My point exactly, Teddy. Drewsie has all those beefy football players he can ask. And picking up little ol' Brian wouldn't be anything. I swear, the muscles on those men..." Emmett fanned himself with a wave of his fingers.

"WILL THE TWO OF YOU SHUT UP? I'M GETTING A HEADACHE."

"Sorry Brian," they said in unison.

"Sorry's bull shit. Now that the two of you have decided my fate for the next month, why don't you let me have my headache in peace. I'm sure the bitch social worker will be in here sometime today to discuss the 'plans' for my release, and I'll decide then."

"Okay, Brian. Do you need me to take anything to the office, or do you want anything?" Ted solicited.

"Did you take the Pool Boy papers to the art department?"

"Yes. I checked on the art work before I left last night and they've almost finished the boards."

"Good. I'm working on the Liberty Air account now, should have it finished by Monday, if I don't have too many interruptions." He glared at the two men. "Can you bring my laptop by the loft on Monday? Sitting at my computer may be difficult with this damn cast."

Justin heard the word cast as he reached the door and rushed in the room.

"OH MY GOD, BRIAN. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED! ARE YOU OKAY?" Justin yelled as he looked at Brian sitting in the wheelchair with his leg in a cast.

Brian wheeled his chair so that it faced the door. "Justin. The artist returns" he stated nonchalantly.

"Brian..." Justin started to respond, but instead leaned down and French kissed Brian.

Ted and Emmett took that as their clue to leave, and walked around the kissing couple.

Justin's back was starting to hurt, so he broke the kiss and placed several closed mouth kisses on Brian's lips. "What happened, or better yet, when did this happen?"

Brian motioned for Justin to sit so he wouldn't have to keep looking up at him from his chair. Justin pulled over a chair and faced Brian.

"It's all your fault, twat," Brian explained quietly.

Justin frowned at him and Brian laughed.

"I was horny and you weren't here to remedy my problem."

"What has that got to do with a broken leg?" Justin asked, trying to follow Brian's statement.

"I took a shower and jerked off thinking of you against the glass at the loft; open, eager and tight. Of course, the docs say it was low blood sugar from not eating the crappy food." Brian grinned as he explained.

"Oh my God. I can't believe you broke your leg jerking off in the shower. Only you could be such a queen," Justin sing songed.

"Shut up. I was horny and you weren't here. I couldn't just up and go to Babylon. I'm sure the traffic in the back room has really suffered since my little visit to "Chez Allegheny", Brian quipped.

Justin grinned at Brian's mention of Babylon, as this was Brian's way of joking about the situation. At least he's not bitching about the leg and the cast. There is that. "Well, I'm here now, and you won't have to jerk off anymore."

"Good-that's comforting to know. Although it will be hell trying to give me a blow job with this fucking cast. You'll just have to wait for me to fuck your sweet ass until I get this stupid thing off. And I was so looking forward to shoving my dick up that tight hole of yours," Brian teased.

"Damn, and I was so looking forward to not walking straight for the next few days," Justin teased. "Can you still leave the hospital on Monday?"

"Yep. Docs say that a broken leg won't keep me here. I can't wait to get home to the loft. No more fucking revolving doors, and no more bitches trying to get me into treatment."

Justin winced at the mention of the social worker and chemical dependency treatment. We're going to have to talk about that sometime, but not today. He's got too much on his plate. "You mean she's still bugging you about that? I thought you told her no fucking way," Justin asked as he leaned over and kissed Brian on the mouth again.

"I told her no, but she came back. It has not been a good few days," Brian sighed as he leaned his head back, fighting the headache that was pounding at his temples.

"Are you okay? Can I get you something?" Justin asked as he recognized the signs of one of Brian's headaches.

"Call the nurse. Push that little button on the bed and tell them I want some Tylenol."

"Can't they give something stronger? I know your headaches are a bitch." Justin questioned.

"No. Seems the good doc is monitoring my intake of pain medication. I think it's a conspiracy to try to convince me that I need treatment."

Justin pushed the button and explained the situation. Fifteen minutes later a nurse was there to give Brian his medication.

"Can't he have anything stronger? He's in a lot of pain," Justin pleaded with the nurse and gave her his most sincere look.

"Sorry, not right now. He had some Vicodin earlier, but I can't give him it again for several hours. I can give him a Tylenol now and he can have more Vicodin at 3:00 pm."

Justin watched as the nurse gave Brian the pills and a glass of water. "Thank you," he said as she turned to leave the room.

"You're welcome. I'll be back in a while to check on your friend."

"Want to get in bed?"

Brian smiled thinly. "That's the best proposition I've had all day."

Justin laughed and repeated, "Do you want to get in bed?"

Brian thought for a minute, and then nodded his head. "Yeah, sleep sounds good. I didn't sleep very much last night."

Justin buzzed the nurses station again and asked that an orderly come and assist Brian into the bed. Two orderlies came a few minutes later and helped Brian into the bed. They propped his leg on a pillow and left. Justin watched the men as they assisted Brian. How the fuck am I going to help him when he gets home? I can't lift him and that damn cast. I guess Emmett and Ted realized that, and were offering their assistance, and the great Brian Kinney was being his normal stubborn self telling them he could do it alone. Shit! God damn! We are so fucked. Well, I guess we'll deal.

"Justin, can you shut the light off? I think I'll try to sleep, see if I can get rid of this headache. It's only a little after 1:00 and Debbie, Michael, Ben, Ted and Emmett have all been here, so I think I'm safe. Any more visitors and I'll have to start charging admission."

Justin leaned down and kissed Brian gently on the lips. "Sleep. I'm going to grab something to eat and then I'll be back." Justin turned out the light and walked down to the cafeteria.

Justin walked down to the cafeteria and grabbed a tray. He looked at the choices and realized that in his three days away from here he'd become spoiled with all the good food he'd eaten with his mother and Lindsay. He picked up a hamburger, fries and a soda as well as a piece of chocolate cake. Paying for his food, he retreated to a small table by a window, where he could eat in peace, and watch the people outside. He didn't notice that the hamburger was a little overcooked or that the fries were very limp as he chewed his food mindlessly. Instead he was trying to sort out the thoughts in his head.

Brian's finally going home, but he broke his leg, and that will make the recovery even harder. I'll need help to get him in the loft... and then how the hell am I going to move him in the loft? If he stays in the bedroom, I can get him to the bathroom, but I can't move him to the living room or the kitchen without help. Damn those few stairs. He's going to need me and I'll be there, but is he willing to accept my help? He wanted me to be his gatekeeper and I could do that just fine, but I'm going to need help to take care of him, and that means people in the loft. That is really going to piss him off.

I was really looking forward to having great sex when I got back, and that has got to be postponed, too. I can always jerk off... been doing so on a regular basis so that's not a big deal... It's just so damn hard to be near him and not have sex. I guess this is what it means to be in a relationship. You take the bad with the good, and if he could put up with me after the bashing- bad nightmares and fear of leaving the loft and all- then I can deal with this. I told Mom that I finally feel grown up. He's my partner; I will deal. Shut up, this is not some punishment. This is the man I love and I want to help him, just like he helped me. He loved me even back then. Why did it take me so long to figure this shit out? I guess because I was 19. Of well, I'm 25 now and much smarter.

Shit! I haven't told him I'm not going back. With all this going on, I'll think I'll wait.

Justin finished his meal, throwing his trash out. He went outside to the smoking area and enjoyed a cigarette. Remembering Brian's comment about smoke on his breath, he returned to the gift shop and bought some mints, and sucked on one to rid his mouth of the smoke taste. He wondered if he should give up smoking. Brian hadn't smoked in over a month and shouldn't have the craving anymore. They'd both be better off not smoking.
_________________________________________

"Hello, Brian. I guess you're not as invincible as you thought." Vic said as he walked into the room.

"Shit, you're back," Brian said as he looked around the now familiar room.

"Of course I'm back. You're asleep aren't you? We talk best when you're sleeping."

"You're dead, old man. Of course you come when I'm sleeping. Your sister, on the other hand..."

"Leave Sis out of this. I'm here to talk about you."

"I've got a headache. Can't this wait till later?"

"Nope. I'll talk to the guy upstairs about that headache. Time to have a little chat."

"What do you want, Vic?" Brian asked, resignation filling his voice.

"You're getting out of here in a few days. Justin's coming home with you. Don't you think you need to talk to him?"

"Talk about what?" Brian pretended not to understand.

"Brian Aidan Kinney; you can't pretend with me. You need to tell him you miss him, want him around."

"Why? He just came back from a big show in New York. Shit! I was so absorbed with my damn leg, I didn't even ask about his show. I bet he's thinking I don't give a shit." Brian angrily replied.

"He probably wasn't thinking about his show either. Seeing you with your leg in a cast kind of put a damper on his success."

"I'm sure the show was wonderful. I'll have him tell me all the details when he comes back....I wake up. Besides, with the show being great, he will need to return to New York soon. He can't stay here."

"Why?"

"He's got a life in New York, and he has to paint. He can't stay here taking care of me."

"Why don't you ask him that? Don't you remember our last conversation? He's not Gus. Let him decide. He is an adult, after all."

"I can lead my own life, Vic. I don't need you to tell me what to talk to Justin about."

"True. But Justin is special. Don't ruin it this time. He may not wait."

"What's that supposed to mean, Vic?" Brian frowned at the elusive statement.

"You need to talk to Justin. He's not the seventeen year old twink you picked up under a streetlight. He's a grown man. Treat him like one."

"Whatever. Can you get rid of this damn headache? It'd be a lot easier to talk to Justin if I was clear-headed," Brian asked.

"I'll see what I can do," Vic promised. "Think about what I've said, Brian. He's grown up, and so have you. Act like the grown up you are, and let him be a grown man as well."

"Okay." Brian looked at Vic as he walked out of the room. Shortly the pain in his head dissipated and he slept for several hours.
Justin returned to the hospital room and was thankful that Brian was still sleeping. He went to the visitor's lounge and called his mom and Daphne to set up transfer of his luggage from his trip. He updated them on the latest snafu in Brian's recovery, but assured them that Brian was okay and that he was still coming home in a few days. He walked down to PT and waited for Jose to finish with a patient.

"Hi, Justin. Brian's not here. Have you checked his room?"

"He's sleeping, but I came to talk to you. Got a few minutes?"

Jose looked at his watch and nodded. "Sure. We can go to my office."

"You have an office?" Justin repeated.

"Yes. I have to have somewhere to write my notes. Patients only see me when I'm working with them, but I see fourteen patients or more every day. I need to keep good notes on what I did with each patient to make certain that they are progressing like they should; and that I don't push them too hard, or keep it too easy."

"Oh. I guess I never thought about that." Justin entered the small cubicle and sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. "I need to know about Brian," Justin began.

"What about Brian?"

"Sorry. I need to know about the cast. He won't tell me what he can and can't do while he's wearing it, and I need to make sure his leg heals properly."

"Oh. For right now, he can't put any weight on it. According to what I read in his chart, Dr. Stern, his orthopedist, wants no weight bearing for at least a week. He has to use the wheelchair for everything, and have help with transfers."

"Shit. He isn't going to like that at all." Justin envisioned Brian being helped on to the toilet or using the bedpan, and it was not a good mental picture. "Can't he use crutches?"

"Maybe. If he can maneuver his leg in a straight position, then Dr. Stearn may agree."

"Can you help him with that? I mean I can't see me lifting him. I'm not the star of the football team," Justin joked.

"I'll talk to Dr. Stearn this morning. If he says yes, then I'll visit Brian this afternoon or tomorrow. He's lucky that I'm working this weekend, and I like the guy."

"Thanks so much, Jose. So, what happens after the first week?"

"If things are healing well, then he might get a walking cast or be able to weight bear a little."

"How long will the cast be on?"

"Probably eight weeks. Where his break is, it may take a long time to heal."

"Shit. Eight more weeks! So will everything be okay when he gets the cast off?"

"As I told Brian, when he gets the cast off, he'll need therapy for a few weeks to build the muscle in the leg back up. When you don't use muscle, it loses its strength and density, so it's really important to rebuild it."

"Can't he do that at the gym? He's always working out."

"Not at first. If he tries to push the muscle building too fast, he might damage the muscle and or re-injure the leg. He needs to go slowly, and then he can return to the gym in a month or so."

"Thanks for your time, Jose. Talk to Dr. Stern, please. I'm sure Brian would rather walk on crutches than be carried everywhere."

"Will do. Good luck, Justin."

Justin stood up to leave and Jose called out, "How was your show?"

Justin turned around and grinned. "Oh, it was fantastic. I sold almost all my paintings, and my agent was very pleased. Thanks for asking. I know you're busy, but thanks for talking to me."

"No problem. Despite his gruff demeanor, Brian's an okay guy."

Justin grinned and agreed, "Yeah, he is."

Justin returned to Brian's room where he found Brian gently tossing in the bed, signaling he was about to wake up.

Justin entered the room quietly, and sat in the chair next to the bed while he waited for Brian to wake up. About a half hour later, he was rewarded by Brian looking at him, hair all over the place, Kinney style, a small grin on his mouth.

"Hey," Brian said softly.

"Hey," Justin repeated the familiar greeting. "Feeling better? I guess the Tylenol worked," Justin admitted.

"No. More like.... Oh never mind. Let's just leave it at the headache is gone."
Justin looked at Brian quizzically; he usually wasn't so cryptic, but he let it slide for now.

"What time is it? I'm starving."

Justin squinted to try to see the clock, but was finding it hard to read as a result of the darkness.

"Turn on the fucking light, Sunshine. You'll fall on your ass, and one of us with a broken leg is enough," Brian directed.

Justin turned the light on and read the clock. "It's 3:15. I can grab you something from the cafeteria if you'd like."

"Okay. Get me a salad and a turkey sandwich. That should hold me over until they serve me what they mistake as dinner."

"I'll be back in a few." Justin leaned down and kissed Brian on the mouth. "Want me to turn the television on, or do you want something else to do?"

"TV is for shit on Saturday afternoon. Just a bunch of jocks playing sports, and kid shows. Why don't you bring me the newspaper-it's on the chair. Theodore brought me the Pittsburgh business section, and I'd like to read it."

Justin handed Brian the journal and went to the cafeteria. He grabbed the requisite salad and turkey sandwich, but also a shake and a piece of chocolate cake. He knew Brian would have a "taste" of each and maybe get some much needed calories into his too-thin body.

Justin returned to the room in record time; he was a man with a mission. As he entered into the hallway where Brian's room was, he listened carefully for any signs of the "family" and was thankful it was quiet.

"Honey, I'm home," Justin sing-songed as he entered the room.

Brian looked at Justin, a sever frown on his face. "I'm not your wife, so don't treat me like one."

"Just kidding," Justin explained as he pulled the bed tray to Brian, arranging the food on the top.

"What's with the cake and shake?"

"I was hungry. Want some?"

"I'll have a bite. Wouldn't want you to put any weight on that sweet ass of yours." Brian teased as he unwrapped the sandwich. Taking a tentative bite, he nodded his head, acknowledging its edibleness.

Brian finished the sandwich and started in on the salad. After taking a few bites of it, Brian put his fork down and looked at Justin.

"Tell me about your show."

Justin grinned. "It was fabulous! I sold all but three of the pieces and Sam said he had several galleries talking to him about future shows."

"I'm proud of you. I always knew you were talented."

Justin beamed at the compliment and leaned down to kiss Brian.

"I'm sure the place was packed. How did Mother Taylor like the show?"

"She said the same thing. She was proud of me. I told her that I finally felt grown up." Justin took a drink from the milk shake and continued. "I remember my first show, at the GLC." Justin looked at Brian as he nodded in remembrance. "She had no idea what to expect and then she saw the drawings of you with your cock hanging out." Justin laughed. "I'm sure she was envious," Justin joked.

Brian tapped Justin's hand in reprimand. "Respect your elders," Brian directed.

"Anyway...She's always come to my shows and told me that she liked my work, but I think that this time was different. She wasn't my mom, but a patron," Justin explained.

"I wish I could have been there," Brian lamented. "Did Lindsay behave herself?"

"Yeah, me too, but there is always next time. Sam was really happy too and I got a lot of good press. I may even have a few commissions come out of it. As far as Lindsay goes, well, she liked the show," Justin responded tersely.

Brian recognized the anger beneath the surface. "What did she do?"

"Nothing really. She doesn't want me to live my own life."

"Okay. I speak Justin Taylor pretty well, but what the fuck does that mean?" Brian urged Justin.

"She seems to think she needs to run my career and knows what is best for me. She has an opinion about what I should paint and..."

"Lindsay always has opinions. You just have to get used to tuning her out. You are your own person, Justin; don't let her or anybody tell you what to do."

"He's a grown man, Brian. Treat him like one."

"Okay, fuck it, Vic. I get it. I get it! Now get out of my fucking head."

"I won't. Lindsay won't dictate how I live my life. She just doesn't realize it," Justin assured Brian.

"Good to know. So, now that you sold all these paintings, are you going to be too rich to associate with the peons back in the Pitts," Brian teased.

"No! You guys are my family. I won't forget that."

"When do you go back? I'm sure you need to start painting more masterpieces." Brian picked up his fork and took a bite of the chocolate cake.

Justin stood up and walked to the window. Suddenly there was a tightness in his chest that he hadn't expected. "I'm going to help you when you get out of here," he said as he looked out the window.

"Bullshit. I'm better now and I don't need a babysitter," Brian retorted. "They're letting me out of here in two days. You can go back on Tuesday."

"I'm not going back Brian." Justin gathered his courage and informed Brian as he slowly turned around.

"What do you mean, you're not going back?" Brian repeated.

Justin paced the small room, still unable to face Brian head on. "I told Sam I want to paint here."

"What the fuck did you do that for?"

"These last months have been terrible, Brian. I missed you. I missed us. Almost all the paintings from this show, I started before last summer. You're my muse."

"Justin. Who turned you into a lesbian? What happened to the best little homosexual who went to New York?"

Justin walked to the bed and sat down in the chair. He reached out for Brian's hand, and Brian let him have it. "I've been doing a lot of thinking in the last month, Brian."

"Careful, that can get you into real trouble," Brian teased.

"I want us to try again. You've already admitted that you pushed me away because it got too hard to see me leave. I've started to make a name for myself in the art world, and now its time to take care of the other part of my life."

"Okay," Brian said softly.

"Even if we don't work out, all my family is here, and I miss them..." Justin continued to explain. "...Wait! Okay? You agree? I thought I would have to give you about a thousand blow jobs and wear you down," Justin teased.

"You probably owe me at least that many," Brian teased. "You can start anytime, you know. Most of the family has already been here this morning, and the nurses aren't due back until much later." Brian eyed Justin, stopping to notice the growing bulge in his pants.

Justin jumped up and started to get in bed with Brian, but Brian called out, "Justin!" Justin pulled back. "Cast here. Hurt leg. Be careful," Brian admonished.

Justin leaned down and thoroughly kissed Brian while he lay in the bed. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"You're not the only one who's been thinking this last month. And if you say anything about this conversation, I will deny it. I think this hospital has turned my brain into mush- there must be some truth to something in the water. That's mostly what they've been poisoning me with at ‘Chez Allegheny.' I think it has turned me into a part-lesbian." Brian paused, pushing all the years of denial to the side.

"I've gotten used to you being around, and, well..."

Justin leaned down and kissed Brian again, and started to pull down the covers. He urged Brian to lift up so he could pull down his lounge pants.

"No can do, Justin."

Justin looked at Brian and his cast, cursing his stupidity in forgetting that Brian wasn't as flexible with his cast. "Okay, roll on your good side and I'll pull your pants down."

Brian did as instructed and Justin pulled the offending cloth down over Brian's growing erection. As Brian rolled back, Justin pulled the other side down. He quickly engulfed Brian's cock, sucking and gently nibbling his prize. Brian was soon close to coming and threaded his hands through Justin's hair, urging him to speed up his ministrations. Justin complied, and was soon rewarded by a mouthful of Brian's cum. He licked at the softening cock for a few minutes, and then kissed his way up to Brian's mouth, kissing him on the lips.

"If only you'd been here the other night," Brian said as he tapped the cast. "I wouldn't have this latest fashion accessory." Brian kissed Justin on the cheeks and forehead, but pushed him up after a few moments. "Now you have to pull the pants up. I can't be lying here for all the hospital to see, even if the nurses would be ecstatic with the prospect."

They reversed Justin's early move and Brian got his pants back on.

"I'm going for a soda. Want anything?"

"What about your shake?"

"I guess I could drink that instead. I thought you might want it. Wanna share?"

"I'll have a few sips, but you drink the rest."

"The nurses said you need a lot of calcium to help heal your leg, and a milk shake is filled with calcium," Justin announced in his Public Service Announcement voice.

"Well, if that's the case, I'll drink more than a few sips. Don't want to anger the nurses," Brian said tongue in cheek.

Brian drank about half the shake and Justin finished the rest. Justin stood up to stretch when he was startled by a knock on the door.

"Now who the hell is here? It's fucking Saturday afternoon. Everyone we know is at the gym or working," Brian commented as he tried to look around Justin. He leaned forward in bed trying to glimpse the doorway and saw Jose. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you for a few months," Brian commented.

"Hi, Brian. Hi, Justin," he greeted the men. "Justin came by earlier and asked if you could use crutches to get around instead of a wheelchair. I checked with Dr. Stearn and he okayed it. I'm here to teach you to walk correctly on crutches. What do you say, Brian, ready for some therapy?"

Brian laughed. "I never thought I would say ‘yes' to that question, but, yes, I'm ready. Lead on, McDuff."

Justin watched as Jose easily got Brian and his cast out of bed. He followed them to the therapy room where he watched Brian struggle with his new crutches. As always, Brian quickly picked up the new skill.

"I feel pretty confident that you can use crutches instead of the wheelchair, Brian. Keep in mind, you can't put any weight on that leg for at least a week," Jose directed.

"I don't need that stinking wheelchair," Brian announced to the room.

"Don't be so quick to get rid of it, Brian. Crutches are really hard on your muscles and you are still weak. You may find that using the chair will be a welcome respite, especially for longer trips."

"Not going to happen," Brian declared. "Come on, Justin, let's go back to my room. Thanks for everything, Jose."

Justin followed Brian back to his room and watched as Brian got in bed by himself.

"Wow, that's great Brian! I was really starting to worry how you were going to get in the loft. I can't exactly carry you."

"Remember, nothing can keep Brian Kinney down." Brian leaned back on the pillows and rubbed his forearms, but didn't say a word regarding the pain now radiating up and down their lengths.
"Brian, why don't you rest? You look tired," Justin urged.

"I hate this shit! Eight fucking weeks with this mother fucker on my leg," Brian said, exasperated.

"Look on the bright side, Brian. You get to go home in two days." Justin went to the window and pulled the blinds closed. "Rest, okay? I promise to make it worth your while." Justin grinned as he ran his eyes over Brian's body.

"Twat. Is sex all you think about?" Brian teased.

"Nah, I do have the occasional thought about food or sleep," Justin joked. "Seriously...get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay. I'll rest, but when I get back to the loft, it's back to work for me."

Justin turned out the light and went to the gift shop and bought a copy of <U>People</U>. He went to the cafeteria to read the magazine, preferring the people there than in the visitor's lounge. He attempted to read the magazine, but as usual he was drawn to watch the people sitting by themselves or in small groups dealing with their personal lives. Seeing the dried tears of some and hearing the laughter from others, he made up stories regarding the patients they were here to visit. He flipped through the majority of the magazine, wondering what possessed Emmett to be so obsessed with celebrities. He grabbed his cigarettes from his pocket and went to the atrium to smoke.

He pulled out his lighter and a cigarette and stopped. I promised Brian not to smoke in front of him, since it reminds him what he can't have. In two days, he gets out of here and goes home. What will that mean? Will he start smoking and drinking just like he did before? What about Babylon...will he stop drinking there? Too many ‘what ifs' for me to think about right now. I guess maybe I'm not as ready for this as I thought.
______________________________________________

"So Brian, you finally heard what I was telling you," Vic remarked as he walked into the room.

"Shit, you're here again. I thought you'd left," Brian groaned.

"Most of my job here is done. You're finally letting Justin make up his own mind regarding what he wants to do with his life."

"What the fuck do you mean "Most of your job'? Am I an assignment now?"

"Not exactly, but you are my concern," Vic responded.

"Talk in fucking English. My brain is too tired for riddles."

Vic pulled the chair next to Brian's bed and looked around the room before talking. "You finally told him that you want him here, with you. Good! You're learning. But, have you thought about the booze and the drugs, all of your methods of pain management?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Vic? I haven't drank, smoked, or got high since arriving in this hellhole."

"Exactly. And in two days, you go home. Where, I might add- your stash, and all the liquor you could drink for at least a week lives," Vic explained.

"And your point being?" Brian answered snidely.

"No one will be watching you anymore, Brian. What are you going to do?"

"English please," Brian stated again.

"Are you going to drink and use as soon as you walk in the door? Plain enough for you?" Vic answered.

"The first thing I'm going to do is pin Justin to the mattress and fuck his brains out!" Brian shouted.

"Don't think so. Take a look at your leg. Cast...broken bone."

"Shit. Okay, he'll give me a blow job," Brian chimed in.

"Glad to know that Brian Kinney still thinks sex will solve all the world's problems ....and all of his," Vic laughed at Brian's answer. "What about the booze and the drugs?"

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not giving it up, if that's what you're asking."

"Are you going to talk to someone?" Vic asked pointedly.

"Hell, no! I don't have a problem, Vic, so why the fuck do I need to talk to someone?" Brian yelled vehemently.

"Think about it, Brian. It's your life, and I might not be able to help next time."

"What the fuck do you mean- you might not be able to help?" Brian challenged Vic.

"I've got to go, Brian. See you around."

"Vic, wait!" Brian cried, but he was gone. Brian tossed and turned as he slept for another half hour.

_____________________________________________
Justin went back upstairs, and for the first time since he returned to Pittsburgh, he was uncertain of his place. Maybe I moved too fast. I should have talked to Brian about coming back. He's just saying he wants me here because he needs help...maybe I should go back to New York. Maybe...maybe... fuck this shit! I want to be here in Pittsburgh, and I want Brian, and it is time for me to finally get what I want, or at least give it a good try, dammit!

He got off the elevator, and walked directly into Brian's room just as Brian was waking up.

"Feel better? You were really tired," Justin asked.

Brian stretched, feeling his toes tingle at the movement. "I guess. Twenty-first century medicine needs to find a better way to fix broken bones. I can't believe that they haven't progressed farther than this in the last 100 years," Brian observed.

"Look at the upside. You have me at your beck and call for the next eight weeks. ‘Justin, get me a bottle of water, Justin, make me a sandwich. Justin, give me a blow job," Justin reminded him.

"That would be great, if you and I were just playing a game. Hmm, ‘Slaveboy and Sexy Master' sounds like fun; maybe we can re-enact that one when I get out of ‘Chez Allegheny.' But unfortunately, this is no game. This is reality and it sucks big time." Brian took a deep breath, just short of sighing.

"True, but I'll try to make it bearable, I promise. Do you want anything right now?"

"A blow job," Brian responded, tongue in cheek.

"Duh... Let's talk about something you realistically want."

"Why Justin, it is very realistic. You've given me several blow jobs while I've been laid up. You should have seen the look on Mikey's face when I told him you blew me here. It was priceless." Brian's body shook from his laughter.

"Oh, I can just see it. He probably turned red and his mouth hung open like a fish. Wish I was here to see it." Justin looked at the clock. "It's almost time for dinner. Want me to get you something, or are you up for the fine cuisine they will serve you?"

"I don't need any more food- I'm still pretty full from the sandwich earlier. If I gain too much weight, I'll never be able to get up the stairs at the loft."

Justin sat down in the chair that he pulled close to the bed. Leaning over, he gave Brian a swift kiss on the lips. "Do you think you can use crutches to get into the loft?"

"I knew it was too good to be true," Brian said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know you're dying to talk about me going home. So talk."

Justin reached his hand out to hold Brian's hand and Brian allowed the connection, gently squeezing Justin's hand. "I think I should talk to Emmett and see if Drew and some of his buddies can be there for when you go home. You know, just in case, you can't get up the steps. I don't think I can get you up them by myself."

"Yeah, sure. That would be okay. What else?"

"I'll talk to Cynthia about coming over to the loft to work on catching you up with things. Maybe she can start coming on Wednesday? That will give me a day to figure things out."

"There's nothing to figure out, Justin. I get released, and on Tuesday I go in to Kinnetik. No puzzle there."

"But... you've been in the hospital for the last month. You can't just return to your job the next day! You've got to go easy," Justin explained.

"I don't need coddling, I'm fine! Cynthia is expecting me on Tuesday, and I'll be there," Brian stated matter-of-factly.

"Okay," Justin acquiesced, knowing he wasn't going to win that argument. "But I'll still come over in the morning and evening to help out."

"Come over? I thought you were moving back?"

"You want me at the loft?" Justin asked softly, hoping that Brian wasn't just offering out of circumstance again.

"Justin...you told me you were moving back to give us a chance. I assume that means that you want to be with me. Right?"

"Yeah... but I ..."

"No apologies, no second guessing. You've lived with me before, so why wouldn't you this time?"

"I didn't want to assume that you wanted me there," Justin explained.

Brian looked Justin in the eye before softly saying, "I want you there." Brian then looked around, leaning forward to look at the door. "Now, where's that aide with dinner? I'm hungry suddenly."

Justin leaned over and kissed Brian on the lips. Brian opened his mouth, allowing the blonde man's tongue to caress his tongue, their actions speaking volumes. They heard a loud clearing of a throat, and stopped kissing in time to see the blushing dietary aide bring in Brian's dinner. Separating, Justin stood up, retrieved the bed tray, and brought it over to the bed.

"I'll be back later for the dishes," the aide announced as she quickly left the room.

"We sure know how to clear the room. Just wish it worked as well with the family as it did with the aide," Brian joked. He undid the silverware and lifted the tray tops from the dishes.

"Mystery loaf," he announced as he started to identify the foods. "I think I'll pass on that one. Mashed potatoes. Hmm, I don't think they can mess those up too much." He took a tentative bite of the white pile. "Not bad, but Debbie's are better." He ate about three quarters of the potatoes and the green beans on the plate. There was a dish of red Jell-O on the tray as well, and he ate about half of it as well. "What is it with hospitals and Jell-O? I think every lunch and dinner I've eaten has had Jell-O of some flavor and color. Is it some miracle food that I didn't know about?"

Justin laughed. "Not that I know of. I just think it's easy and cheap to make, and most people like it."

"Well, I'm never eating again. I've had enough to last me a life time," Brian announced.

Justin stifled a yawn.

"I know you've had a busy three days. Why don't you go home, and I'll see you in the morning? I'm not going to turn into a pumpkin if you leave," Brian urged Justin.

"You sure? I'm really tired. I guess the show and all the excitement is catching up to me."

"Yes, I'm sure. Call Daphne or Mother Taylor and have them come get you. I can work for a few hours, and then I'll sleep. It's Saturday night, and everyone is probably at Babylon; therefore they won't be up here visiting me, thank you very much."

Justin called Daphne and she came to pick him up. He kissed Brian before he left.

"Later," he said.

"Later," Brian repeated and smiled at the familiar line.

Justin closed his eyes and laid his head back as Daphne drove home. "Jus, we're here," she said as she gently shook his shoulder.

Opening his eyes, he looked around for a minute to orient himself. "I must have fallen asleep. Sorry, it's been a long few days."

"Don't worry. So, do you need any help getting Brian back home?" She asked as they walked into the apartment.

Justin hung up his coat and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. "He's so stubborn. He told me that he told Cynthia he would be at work on Tuesday. I remember when I got home from the hospital- I slept most of the first day and a half. Yeah, I snuck out to see Brian, but I never told anyone that once I got there, I crashed out on his bed for, like, five hours. That's why he brought me home so late; he didn't want to wake me up."

"I didn't know that." She grabbed a beer and got out the bowl for making popcorn. She motioned at Justin and he nodded his agreement with her choice. "So, what are you going to do about him?"

"Nothing; there's no use arguing with him. I'll just help him in the morning, and we'll see how far he gets. I don't think Cynthia really expects him there. She knows Brian too well."

"It's great that she supports and puts up with him," Daphne observed.

The popcorn finished popping and Justin got out two bowls, parceling the treat out equally. They moved to the living room and sat at opposite ends of the couch, facing each other. He munched in silence for a time and looked around Daphne's apartment.

"Are you going to rent the room?"

"Why?"

"Brian asked me to move in with him. Makes sense, since I'm here to help him. I just wondered if the room would be available if I needed it," Justin explained.

"You told him!" Daphne squealed, almost tipping her bowl of popcorn as she started to raise her arms, but stopping when she remembered the bowl. "How'd he take it?"

Justin grinned as he remembered the conversation. "He said ‘yes' without any argument. It's a little scary, Daphne. He's changed. In a good way, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know- like the kid who is behaving so he can have his favorite toy, but once he gets it back, he reverts back to the same bad behavior."

Daphne nodded her head at the analogy and picked up a few pieces of popcorn that hadn't made it to her mouth, throwing them in the trash. "You don't think he's serious?" Daphne questioned.

Justin placed his bowl of empty popcorn on the table, licking his fingers of the residual butter and salt. "Oh, he's serious. I really think he wants me back, and that he misses me. It's just..."

"Justin Taylor!!! I've never known you to be at a loss for words. Talk to me," Daphne demanded as she watched Justin change positions several times on the couch.

Justin took the empty bowl to the sink and grabbed another beer from the fridge, motioning to Daphne to see if she wanted another.

"Stop stalling," Daphne teased.

Returning to the couch, he began. "I left for New York almost two years ago and things were okay for us. I saw him occasionally; he came to New York a few times, and I came here. Then one day, he pushes me off a cliff- tells me he doesn't want to see me anymore; that we're through. Then, he overdoses and I come back, because he made me his medical proxy. Brian Kinney can really screw with your head." Justin takes his index finger to his head and makes a twirling motion. "Anyway, I come back and he admits he missed me and that he pushed me away because it just got too hard to see me leave." Justin stood up and walked to window, stretching his tired body. Stifling a yawn, he continued, "Now, he's getting out of the hospital, and he tells me ‘Okay' when I tell him I want to come back, make a go of us. That isn't the Brian Kinney I know. He would have said no fucking way, argued incessantly, and THEN maybe gave in when I told him I was staying whether he liked it or not." Justin returned to the couch, grabbing a pillow and holding it to his chest.

"So basically, you're worried because Brian is doing what you want, with no argument?" Daphne summarized. Daphne finished her popcorn and put her bowl on the coffee table. She licked her fingers as Justin had earlier.

"Yeah, I guess you could put it that way. Sounds really silly when you say it that way," Justin admitted.

"It isn't silly. You're afraid he'll change his mind or something else will change," Daphne observed.

"How'd you get so smart?"

"I've known you forever, and I know how you think. I also know Brian has a lot of bad habits, and you're worried about him."

Justin played with the pillow, alternately throwing it up and catching it. "He hasn't had any alcohol or any drugs for a month, but that's because he's been in the hospital. Once he's home, I don't know. I don't expect him to give up either, but it's this huge pink elephant in the room. I can't talk about it, and he won't. I'm afraid it's going to blow up in our faces."

Daphne reached out and hugged him. "He's a grown man, Justin. You can't protect him from himself and if you try, he'll just resent you. Just know that I'll support you whatever happens. And for the record, I think that this time you're both ready to be together." She smiled as she kissed Justin on the cheek. She got up and returned her empty bowl to the kitchen, then proceeded to clean the popcorn popper.

Justin dried the popper and placed the bowls in the dishwasher. "I think I'll shower and go to bed. Can you take me to the hospital tomorrow? Only two more days and your chauffeuring will end. Aren't you happy?"

"I'm happy to take you. But I will be glad to not have to leave an hour early for work so I can get you to the hospital and be on time," Daphne admitted.

"Oh," Justin hung his head in mock sorrow and turned toward the linen closet to grab a towel. Daphne popped him with a dishtowel.

"Be quick in there and don't use all the hot water! There's a movie on Lifetime that I want to watch, and it starts in an hour," Daphne called out as Justin shut the door. Justin took a shower and went to bed.

Justin woke up and stretched, feeling the lingering stiffness in his neck and shoulders. The light seemed off. Looking at the alarm clock by the bed, he realized why. "Shit," Justin muttered as he looked at the clock. "I wanted to go by the loft before I went to the hospital. Now I'll be really late." Justin rubbed his eyes and pulled back the covers.

"Daphne!" he called through the closed door. "We overslept and you need to get up!"

Daphne stumbled to the door of her bedroom and opened it. "Justin, he's going home tomorrow. He doesn't need you there every waking moment," she chastised him. "Go get dressed, we'll eat, and then I'll take you to the hospital.

"Could we stop at the loft before we go to the hospital?"

"Sure. But, I thought you got his mail before you left. Surely, it could wait until Monday when he comes home."

Justin walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cabinet, and poured some orange juice. After finishing the juice, he placed the glass in the dishwasher. "I'm not worried about the mail. I want to take a good look at the layout. I've never looked at it with the eyes of someone using crutches or a wheelchair. I want to have everything ready for when he comes home," Justin explained.

"Good thinking. You make a great nurse," she said as she play hit him on the arm.

"Gatekeeper. That's Brian's name for me, but I don't know how good I'm going to be at my job since I may need some help to take care of him."

After dressing, the two friends ate a quick breakfast of bagels and cream cheese, then drove to the loft.

As they drove up, Justin eyed the stairs in front of the building. "Damn! There is no ramp, and at least ten stairs. How do they get away with that?"

Daphne parked the car on the street and they walked up to the building. "Calm down. Maybe there is a ramp in the back. Old buildings often don't have ramps in front- the designers thought that it would mar the look of the building," Daphne suggested. They walked to the back of the building, and luckily, there was a ramp. Justin walked up the ramp and tested the electronic button to open the door, but found it wouldn't budge.

"Guess you still have to get buzzed in or have a key. Let me try Brian's key." Inserting the key into the hole, the door opened. "That's better. I guess the building still has to be secure, especially from the back. I wonder if Brian even knows this is here?" he commented. They entered the building, but found themselves in a dark area. "Where the fuck is this? I've never seen this part of the building." Following the dark corridor, they found themselves in the central lobby. "That was majorly creepy. I wouldn't want to have to enter there when it's dark, but I guess it is better than navigating the steps." Justin took a deep breath, relieved to have avoided one hurdle. "Okay, let's go up and take a look. At least I know he can get in the building using the wheelchair if he needs to."

Justin let them into Brian's apartment; the familiar settings took the edge off Justin's anxiety. His breathing became even and his heart slowed down. "Home." He announced, almost forgetting Daphne's presence by his side. He turned towards her and said, "I've been here so many times, and no matter what the circumstance, it always feels like home. I feel more comfortable here than I do anywhere else."

"Hey! What about my place? You've practically lived there for I don't know how long, and every time you get kicked out of here, you find yourself at my doorstep." Daphne remarked, as she walked around the loft, eyeing the furnishings and the view. "It is very ‘Brian.' I can see why he feels so comfortable here. Its clean lines and beautiful furniture ooze the man even in his absence." She ran her hand over a shelf and looked at her finger, surprised to see no dust. "How does he do that? The place hasn't even been lived in for over a month, and it's dust free," Daphne asked, the slight envy evident in her voice.

"He has a cleaning lady, you dope. Brian is a clean freak, and it's a good thing. His cleaning lady found him. If it hadn't been for her...." He cringed, but didn't finish the thought.

He walked into the kitchen, eyeing the space between the island and the counter. "Seems like there will be plenty of maneuvering room in here, whether he's in his chair or using the crutches." Eyeing the computer area, he made his way to that section of the loft. "For once, Brian's minimalist style is a good thing. There really shouldn't be any problems in the loft at all." Turning around he saw the stairs leading to the bedroom. "Oh shit-the bedroom!" he exclaimed. He climbed the few stairs and saw that they were fairly shallow. "There are only three stairs, and they aren't very wide. And no railing... he might have problems getting up these." Looking around the rest of the bedroom, he eyed the door to the bathroom. "That door is pretty narrow. He might have to use the crutches to get to the bathroom. How am I going to help him in the shower?" Justin flashed a memory of the two of them enjoying the warm soapy water, and he soon felt his cock enlarge. Pulling himself from the memory, he walked around the bathroom area. "He can't take a shower with that cast- it would get wet - and there's no tub. I guess it'll be sponge baths for awhile. He isn't going to like that. Shit! How am I going to wash his hair?"

Daphne placed her hand on Justin's arm, pulling him back to the here and now. "Easy, Justin. I think my mom has a shower chair that you can use. You can pull it up to the sink and Brian can lean back, putting his head in the sink. Or you could have him stand at the kitchen sink and you could use the sprayer. This isn't a disaster, so stop queening out," she teased.

"Sorry. I just..."

"Don't worry about it. You have lots of friends that are more than willing to help out. These next few weeks will go by very fast." Daphne looked at her watch. "Look, Justin, I hate to say it but we need to get you to the hospital. I need to meet my friend Jane at the bridal store to pick out bridesmaid dresses, and I'm supposed to be there in a little over an hour."

"Sure. Let me just grab some clothes for Brian to wear home tomorrow, and then we can leave." Justin went to Brian's closet and flipped through the hangers. "Shit. This is one of those times where Brian's wardrobe is a definite disadvantage. I don't see anything that will fit over his cast, and it is too damned cold to bring shorts for him to wear."

"Can't he wear the lounge pants home?" Daphne asked innocently.

"Well, I guess, but Brian is not that casual. He's always bitching when he sees guys wearing those in public."

"He'll get over it. This is not the fashion event of the year," Daphne commented. "Just grab something and let's go."

Justin grabbed a few choices for Brian, then locked the door and set the alarm. They returned to the car, and Daphne drove him to the hospital.

"I can be here by 8:00pm to pick you up. Is that alright?"

"Sure. If it's a problem, I'll call." Justin leaned over and hugged her, and then got out of the car.

He made his way to the fifth floor and stepped off the elevator, listening for signs of Brian's family in the room. He was relieved when he didn't hear any noise coming from Brian's room, 514. He didn't knock and found Brian reading in bed.

"Hey," Justin said.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Brian chastised Justin.

Justin leaned over the bed, placing a chaste kiss on Brian's lips. Brian opened his mouth, slipping Justin's tongue into his mouth. They kissed for several minutes before Justin broke off the kiss.

"I went to the loft to check things out...see if you could get around. Brought you some clothes to come home in, too."

"And..." Brian urged.

"Did you know that there is a back entrance to the building, and there's a ramp there? You could easily use a wheelchair or walk up the ramp if you wanted. It would be a lot easier than the stairs." Justin imparted in his public service announcement voice.

"Of course I knew that, twat. I live there." Brian responded. "Go on."

"The loft doesn't seem to be an issue. It is really big and spacious, and you shouldn't have too much trouble getting around. However, the stairs leading to the bedroom are pretty steep, so I'm not sure about those."

"I'm not fucking sleeping on the couch for eight weeks!" Brian announced.

"We'll figure it out. Maybe I can get one of the gang to build a temporary ramp that can be placed over the stairs. It's not a big area, and should be easy. The other problem is the bathroom," Justin hesitated, as he didn't want to explain the reality to Brian.

"Justin," Brian said impatiently. "Finish your goddamn survey results."

"There's no tub and you can't take a shower with your cast. So... i"llbegivingyou spongebathsforthenexteightweeks." Justin said really quickly.

"Repeat that. I don't think I heard you say you'll be giving me sponge baths," Brian chillingly demanded.

"You can't get the cotton of your cast wet. There is no tub and you can't stand on your leg, or put it outside the shower," Justin reasoned.

"I can wrap my cast, and there is such a thing as a shower chair. I used one while I was here, before they allowed me to take a shower. You think I haven't bathed in a month? You must be crazy," Brian announced.

"Oh..."

Brian let Justin stew for a few minutes, enjoying his embarrassment. "Anything else you discovered in your little visit to the loft?"

Justin shook his head, but then opened his mouth. "Uh, there is one more thing."

"And that is. Come on Justin, just spit it out."

"You're going to have to wear lounge pants or sweats home. I looked in your closet and there isn't anything that will fit over your cast."

"I already figured that one out. Are you finished with the disaster list?" Brian smiled at Justin, letting him know that he was gently teasing him and that he did appreciate the thought.

"Yes."

"Good, then ask Drew or Ted to get someone to make that ramp you talked about, and talk to Jose about the best way to wrap my cast. Problems solved."

"Sure. I can do that. Wow, I can't believe you are finally going home tomorrow. It seems like you've been in here forever."

"It has, and all you've done is visit. I've had to live here. I will be happy to be back at the loft."

The dietary aide knocked on the door and brought Brian his lunch. Justin kept him company while he ate, and then excused himself to grab some food from the cafeteria. When he returned, Brian was half asleep on the bed. Justin removed the tray table and shut off the light. Leaning down, he kissed Brian and told him, "Later."

He left the room and made his way to the Physical Therapy area. He watched as Jose finished working with a patient, and then signaled to him that he was there.

"Hey, Justin. What can I do for you?"

"I need to know how to wrap Brian's cast so he can take a shower."

"That's easy. Wrap it in Saran Wrap or a large plastic trash bag, and then tape it closed-use surgical tape. If the material gets a little wet, blow dry it. That isn't likely, but you do need to be careful. Also remember, he can't stand on it in the shower."

"Okay. Wrap it, tape it, and blow it dry if it gets wet. Should be easy."

"Does he have a shower chair?"

"I don't know."

"Get him one before you go home. Make sure it fits in the shower and that all the legs sit evenly on the floor of the shower. The last thing you need is for him to fall off the chair and break the leg again or hurt another body part," Jose explained. He looked at his watch. "Sorry, Justin, but I'm late for another patient. I'll try to stop in at Brian's room later today, and I'll answer any other questions you guys might have."

"Thanks." Justin shook Jose's hand and went back to Brian's room. He was still sleeping, so he went to the visitor's lounge and got out his cell phone.

"Em's Party Planning. How may I serve you?" Em answered when the phone rang.

"Hi Em. It's Justin. Do you know how I can reach Drew?"

"Hi sweetie! Well, he's at home, I think. The winter is the slow season for my man. He's probably watching some boring training tape of a previous game, or reading a play book. Why?"

"I need to talk to him about getting Brian home tomorrow."

"Of course! He'll be happy to help. Give him a ring -here's his cell number in case he's not at home. It's 555-5555. I'll come by the loft tomorrow afternoon after Brian is settled."

"Em, could you wait until Tuesday? He's bound to be tired, and I don't want him too overwhelmed," Justin hedged, hoping Em would not question the little white lie.

"Of course, sweetie. Tuesday it is. In fact, why don't I bring some of my famous crab cakes for lunch. He loved those."

"That would be great. See you then."

Justin called Drew and found him at home.

"Drew, you offered earlier to help Brian get home, is that offer still on?"

"Of course. Tell me when and where and I'll be there."

"I think he can leave at any time, but I was thinking after 9:30. That way the traffic will have died down and the ride won't be as long."

"No problem. Is he going to need help getting up the steps? Do I need to get some football players to assist?" Drew asked Justin.

"No. I found there's a ramp in the back of the building that he can use. You're just there for insurance. But if you know anyone who can build a temporary ramp for the stairs going up to the bedroom, that would be great."

"No problem. A short ramp should do the trick. I'll call one of the guys right now and get him started. It shouldn't take but a few hours to put together. What time do you want me there?" Drew asked.

"I was looking at leaving after 9:00, miss the traffic. So why don't you plan on being there by 8:30?"

"Okay, Justin, I'll see you then."

After disconnecting, Justin flipped his phone out again and called Michael.

"Red Cape Comics," Michael answered.

"Hi Michael, its Justin."

"Hi, Justin. Everything okay?" he asked solicitously.

"Everything's fine."

"Good. What time is Brian coming home? I know he'll want me there."

"About that...I was wondering if you'd wait until Tuesday to come by. He's going to be really worn out and cranky. I know you're concerned about him, but..."

Michael was silent on the other end of the line. You need to let Brian grow up. Justin is his best friend now. He sighed loudly. "Yeah, sure; but if you need anything, just call. You know I can be there really fast."

"Thanks, Michael, I will. I know he'll want to see you on Tuesday. Talk to you soon."

He made similar calls to Debbie and Lindsay, who both reluctantly agreed to wait until Tuesday to drop by. He looked at his watch, and saw that he'd been gone almost two hours. He returned to Brian's room, hoping to find him awake.

As Justin rounded the corner, he again listened for any noise from Brian's room, and was relieved that it was quiet. He looked in and saw Brian moving restlessly, his body signaling its readiness to wake up. Justin walked in, sat in the chair and watched his lover. Within fifteen minutes Brian woke up.

"Hey...guess I fell asleep again. It must be something in the food. I never used to fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon unless it was for a post-fuck nap," Brian joked.

"Must be the food. I hear a lot of patients fall asleep in the hospital, so that is the only logical explanation," Justin agreed.

"So, what have you been up to while I was enjoying my beauty sleep?"

Justin stood up and opened the curtains and turned on the light. "I talked to Jose about your cast and how to make it waterproof. Then, I called Drew; a back up plan for tomorrow, in case something prevents you from getting into the building."

"That shouldn't have kept you busy for very long. Don't tell me that you've been watching me sleep the whole time? If so, you really need to get out more," Brian teased.

"Actually, I made a few more phone calls. I called Debbie, Lindsay and Michael."

"Why?"

"I asked them not to come by until Tuesday. You said I had to be your gatekeeper," Justin explained his actions.

Brian laughed. "You think they'll honor your request?"

"Why wouldn't they? They're all adults," Justin explained.

"You want to bet on this?"

"No," Justin said in a resigned voice. "But..."

"As you said earlier, Lindsay thinks she has all the answers on how I should live my life. Debbie, well she's my other mother and Mikey... well, Mikey is Mikey."

"Okay. Point taken. So when they show up, I'll tell them you're asleep," Justin chimed in, as he smiled a bit.

"They'll just come back. Best to let them in and then quickly ask them to leave." Brian assured Justin. "You'll do just fine. Now, why don't you go down to the cafeteria and get us some food? I'm not looking forward to the fine cuisine in this establishment. Then, you and I can have a meal together. It's been a while," Brian suggested.

Justin smiled. "What do you want?"

"Surprise me. I feel like indulging. Maybe I can convince you to indulge me even more after dinner." Brian raised his eyebrow.

"Are you soliciting me?" Justin laughed at Brian's flagrant question.

"Interpret it any way you want. Now go, I'm actually hungry." Brian made a shooing motion with his hand and Justin left.

Justin returned with a steak and baked potato for both of them. He also brought some ice cream, which he had the cafeteria lady place in a cold food bag to keep it from melting.

"Want to sit in the chair, or do you want to eat in bed?"

"I've been in bed for hours." Brian stopped when he heard his statement. "And without the benefit of a good ass to pin to the mattress, I will say it is rather boring." He raised his eyebrows as he looked at Justin, who was laughing at his bluntness. "I'd like to get out of bed. Why don't you hand me those crutches, and let me try my hand at them?"

Justin handed Brian his crutches and watched anxiously as Brian maneuvered himself into the chair by the bed. "That was great!" Justin exclaimed.

"I didn't fucking win the Olympics, Justin. The theatrics aren't necessary," Brian said gruffly. "Let's eat before the food gets cold."

Brian bit into his steak and chewed the slightly tough meat. "It's edible. I guess they can cook better than the diner. Then again, who can't? But, when we get home, I think I'll have you cook us some of your famous jambalaya," Brian proclaimed after he finished about five bites of the meat.

"Sure. We can make a list of things you'd like me to make, and I can go shopping after you're settled."

"Justin," Brian warned. "We're still not lesbians with the little cottage and the white picket fence in the front yard. We're still queer; that hasn't changed. We're not the happy little couple."

Justin nodded. He's still Brian Kinney, and change is hard for him. I really don't want a happy little domestic arrangement like Mel and Linds, or Michael and Ben. Shit, I really don't know what I want, except that I want Brian. And worrying about it is not going to solve anything, so I better just take it one step at a time. "The steak isn't half bad. My potato is really good, too."

"I bet you had better in New York," Brian stated. "Speaking of New York, we never really talked about your visit," Brian stated. He picked up his fork and stabbed his potato, cutting it in half. He fluffed the potato, and then placed a small amount of butter and sour cream on it. "Not a word about the fat, Justin. I do indulge occasionally, especially when other avenues are closed to me."

"What do you want to know? I told you the show was a success," Justin asked. He also prepared his potato, but he placed three times the sour cream and butter on his.

Brian placed his thumb by his front tooth for a moment as he formulated his thoughts. "For starters, how many people were there? What did the critics say? Was that cunt reporter from Art Forum there?"

Justin took a few bites of his potato, and then placed his fork on the small tray. It was very cramped with both of them eating on the table, but neither had commented on the close quarters. "I'd say there were about one hundred people there. I don't know how many of them were there for Jerome, the other artist, but most of them seemed to look at all the art work."

"One hundred people sounds pretty good. I guess Sam is getting the word out," Brian observed. He finished the last few bites of potato and drank some water, and then laid his silverware over the plate.

"I'm not sure about the critics. The reviews come out in today's paper, and Sam promised to send them to me- I like to keep the paper copies. Anyway, I should be able to look them up on line. I was just running so late this morning that I really didn't think of it," Justin admitted.

Brian frowned. "You have to stay on top of things, Justin. This is your career. I can't be your main focus," Brian chastised him.

Justin managed to finish his last bite of potato, and placed his silverware on the plate as well. He jerkily got up and moved the tray away from Brian, then spun back to face his lover.

"It is MY CAREER, Brian! Let me handle it!" he nearly yelled.

"Okay, okay," Brian said softly. After a moment's pause, he added, "So was the reporter there from the Forum?"

"Yeah. Sam pointed him out to me- he told me that he overheard him talking to a columnist; he said that the work was really good." Justin walked over to the curtains, closing them again as it had gotten dark and the lights from the city were glaring into the room. He sat down in the chair opposite Brian. "It was a good show. Maybe next time, you can come."

"We'll see. Can't commit, but I'd like to be there."

TBC

Justin threw away the remains of their dinner, sitting down to continue his conversation with Brian. Shortly, the dietary aide came by to drop off Brian's dinner.

"I've already eaten. You can take the tray with you," Brian informed the young woman.

"Are you certain? I can leave it here for you in case you change your mind," she replied.

"No. Take it." Brian made a shooing motion with his hand and she took the tray.

"Only one more meal and then I can eat in my own home." Brian paused as he thought for a second. "You didn't mention Emmett in your phone calls. Don't you think he should be warned as well? Michael will be pissed if you told him to stay away and he finds out that Emmett wasn't told the same thing."

Justin got up to close the door and picked up the cold storage pack from its place by his chair. "I talked to Em when I called him looking for Drew. He's taken care of as well. Now, didn't you say something about indulging? I bought a pint of ice cream at the cafeteria, too." Justin pulled the cold treat out of the bag, along with two spoons. "No one should be bothering you for at least an hour. The aide brought your food but since you refused it, she won't be back to pick up your tray. I've noticed that the doctors don't make rounds on Sunday night, and the nurse was just here to check on you."

"Why, Justin Taylor, I like the way you think," Brian grinned. "Too bad there's no chaise lounge for us to recline on."

"I was hoping you could stand up for a moment, and I could help you lower your lounge pants before you returned to your chair," Justin suggested as he put the ice cream back on the floor.

Justin placed a towel on the chair so Brian would have something to sit on. "I know you'd never put your ass on an unclean surface," Justin teased Brian.

Brain laughed. "You won't ever stop with the Public Service announcements," Brian said tongue in cheek.

Justin laughed and motioned for Brian to stand. Justin's hands roamed to Brian's ass, giving it a quick squeeze as he pulled down the pants. Justin unbuttoned Brian's shirt, ghosting his hands over the thin torso. Justin helped Brian sit down, and then leaned over, kissing Brian deeply. Brian opened his mouth, using his tongue to explore Justin's mouth as he'd done hundreds of times in the past. Justin wrapped his arms around Brian's neck, breathing in his scent as his tongue savored his taste. After a few short minutes, he broke the kiss. Brian sighed at the interruption, giving Justin a deep frown.

"Bad angle, but I'll make it up to you. I've got just the thing to occupy you. Too bad there's no chaise in here."

"Yes, too bad," Brian agreed.

Justin couldn't sit on Brian's lap this time, so he sat in the chair next to him and leaned over as close to him as possible. Justin opened the carton of ice cream and scooped some out, feeding it to Brian and then took a bite himself. While his mouth was still cold, he leaned over, kissing Brian on the lips. Brian moaned his appreciation and opened his mouth for another spoonful. Brian purposely allowed a little to dribble out of his mouth, and Justin took the hint by slowly licking the dribbles from his chin. Justin repeated feeding Brian the cold ice cream for a few more bites, but then he purposely let some drip from the spoon on the way to Brian's mouth.

"Oh, look what I did," Justin teased. "I'm making a mess feeding you. I better clean you up. Wouldn't want you to be sticky."

"Wouldn't want that," Brian agreed, smiling at Justin's playfulness.

Justin placed the ice cream container on the floor and leaned over Brian's chest. He slowly licked the drips of ice cream from Brian's chest, stopping to suck on his nipples. Brian hissed in pleasure, arching up to meet the combination of torture and delight that Justin offered.

"Want more?" Justin asked, his voice low and sultry.

"Sure," Brian said through a slight haze of arousal.

Again, Justin purposely dribbled ice cream on Brian's chest as he fed him the next spoonful. Brian reached out, running his fingers through Justin's hair as he watched Justin lick his torso from his collar bone to his pubes. Justin inhaled deeply, enjoying the strong smell of Brian's arousal. He felt his cock strain against his tight jeans.

Justin saw Brian's erection, its tip leaking precome. He casually brushed his hand across the area as he scooped up another bite. Blowing on the spoon, his hot breath helped melt the ice cream. He watched in fascination as the drips landed on Brian's cock, covering it with pearly white beads.

"Justin," Brian warned as he squirmed.

Justin placed the carton back on the floor and pulled a pillow from Brian's bed. He knelt on the floor in front of Brian's chair and leaned over, slowly licking the drips off the jutting cock. He licked from the base to the tip on all sides, swirling around the head each time he reached the tip. Brian brought his hands down, placing them on Justin's head, urging him to continue his ministrations. Justin finished licking up all the ice cream and started to remove his mouth, but Brian's hands pushed down on him and he recognized the sign of Brian's impending release. He deep-throated Brian's cock as his hand played with Brian's balls. The suctioning and swirling of Justin's tongue brought Brian ever closer to release. Justin played with the tip and used his hand to pull the shaft, and Brian came hard into Justin's mouth.

Justin continued to lave Brian's cock until it went soft, and then he reluctantly released his prize.

"Did you enjoy your dessert?" Justin teased.

"I think I will let you fix dessert any time," Brian laughed. "Go grab a washcloth from the bathroom. I'm sticky."

Justin grabbed a washcloth and cleaned up Brian, then helped him get dressed again.

"I think I want to get back in bed and put this damn leg up. It is really throbbing. Why don't you buzz the nurse and get me a clean pillow, Sunshine. I'm not really fond of putting my head on a pillow you put on the floor," Brian suggested.

Justin called the nurse for a clean pillow; after it arrived, Brian returned to the bed, propping his leg up as he wanted.

"Well, Mr. Taylor, I do believe that satisfied me for tonight, but wait until we are in the loft tomorrow. Maybe we can try some creative fucking."

"Brian... I don't want to hurt your leg," Justin responded.

"Let me worry about that. Now, isn't it time for you to call Daphne? I'm sure she has to get to bed early so she can slave away at that "exciting" job and doesn't want to come out here too late on a Sunday night." Brian smiled as he teased Justin.

"I'll call her, but I'll be back here early in the morning. I can't believe you're finally going home."

"Call her, Justin. I want to take another Vicodin, and since the evil doctor cut down my supply of drugs, they seem to really affect me."

Justin called Daphne, and she picked him up half an hour later. He kissed Brian goodbye, both anticipating and dreading the next day.

Justin tossed and turned all night long as disturbing visions of Brian filled his brain. He saw Brian walk into Babylon-- dressed in his black wife beater and tight jeans. He was standing at the bar nursing a drink, but none of the ‘family' was there, even Justin. Brian looked around as if he was waiting for someone, but no one ever appeared. He glimpsed Brian at the diner, but it wasn't the diner. There were no familiar faces and he ate alone. A flash of Brian at Kinnetik passed but no Cynthia or Ted or the familiar glass tiles, the sign on the door the only verifying item. Justin viewed their familiar haunts as well as important people and events, but each time, something was wrong, things had changed and Brian was alone. He didn't understand the dreams but was disturbed by them and was thankful when the alarm went off announcing a new day.

His alarm went off at 7:30 and he hit the button, quieting the noise. That was a bizarre night. I wonder if it meant something... for now, I'm just happy to be awake... and Brian's coming home today!

He showered and dressed quickly and, grabbing an empty duffle, placed it by the door. He heard Daphne in the shower as he was stripping the sheets off his bed. After placing the dirty sheets in the hamper, he went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Looking at the clock, he saw that they had some time before they needed to leave, so he made some eggs and toast rather than the usual bagel or quick bowl of cereal. He divided the eggs into two portions, placing them on plates along with the toast.

"Morning, Justin. Hey, real breakfast -- thanks," Daphne commented as she grabbed the orange juice container out of the refrigerator. She poured two small glasses and placed each one by the plates that Justin had laid on the table. They sat down to eat.

"You know, I'm going to miss you. I've gotten used to you being around and it will be strange to not see you everyday."

"It will be weird, but it will be normal in a way, too," Justin replied.

Daphne salted her eggs and took a bite. "Normal? What in the world is normal about you and Brian?" she challenged.

Justin took several bites of his eggs and buttered his toast before responding. "I just mean that I've lived with Brian so often, it isn't like going into a new situation."

"Oh. I guess I see your point. Anyway... you know you can always come back here if it doesn't work out," Daphne reminded him.

Justin bristled at the words. "Why does everyone think that we aren't going to stay together?"

Daphne raised her eyebrow and frowned. "Justin, you really don't need an answer to that, do you?"

Sighing loudly, he answered, "No, dammit, I guess not, but I wish people would just trust us to try. We are two adults, who do care a lot for each other. Brian doesn't say it, but I know it," Justin defended.

"I know, Justin. And I do hope everything works out the way you want it. You deserve some happiness." Daphne finished her breakfast and placed her plate in the dishwasher.

Justin swallowed the last of his juice and brought his plate to the dishwasher as well. "I'm ready when you are."

He grabbed his messenger bag and the duffle as Daphne opened the door.

"What's with the extra bag?" she questioned.

"Brian's been at the hospital for a month. He's got a lot of stuff there. Magazines, clothes, get well cards, Gus' pictures. I have to cart them home somehow," Justin explained as he watched Daphne close and lock the door.

"Okay."

They walked to the parking lot behind the building and were hit with a blast of cold, frigid air and heavy snowflakes. "Shit! Why does it have to snow today of all days?"

"It snows all the time in Pittsburgh. Why are you queening out now?" Daphne asked.

Justin placed the bags in the back seat and got in the car, fastening his seat belt. "Brian will have to walk on crutches in the snow. It's bad enough that he has to navigate stairs on crutches, but snow and stairs -- that is a nightmare waiting to happen. Luckily I found the ramp in the back of the building. He at least can use the wheelchair." Justin walked through the necessary steps in his head.

"Shit! I didn't think about the crutches. But, I guess it means the wheelchair is it for today." Daphne pulled out into traffic; she was glad she had taken a half-day and wouldn't be fighting all the morning commuters through the storm.

Justin watched the snow fall, silently cursing as the inches seemed to pile up more quickly than normal. When they reached the hospital, he grabbed the bags out of the back seat, and placed them on the curb. "Thanks for everything, Daph. I'll call later and let you know that we got back to the loft. I'm really glad Drew is coming to help. I might need him now."

"No problem, Justin. I'll talk to you later."

Justin grabbed the bags before they got too wet and quickly went up to room 514. Brian was sitting in a chair, his leg was propped on the bed. He was dressed in lounge pants and a heavy sweater. Hearing Justin enter the room, he put down the newspaper he was reading, and smiled.

"Hey. Has my chariot arrived?" Brian joked.

"I don't see Drew yet, but I'm sure he'll be here shortly. He probably got caught in the snow. Traffic is a bitch," Justin explained.

"Weatherman said it was snowing. It snows all the time. What's the big deal?"

"Looks like a fucking blizzard. Sorry to tell you this, but you won't be using those nifty new crutches to get into the building today. It's the back door and ramp for you." Justin leaned over and kissed Brian, hoping to distract him from his decree.

Brian returned the kiss, savoring Justin's distinctive taste. After a few minutes, Justin's back ached and he broke the kiss. "A few more hours and we can do this right," Justin reminded Brian. "Right now, I've got to pack all your things." Justin placed all the magazines and papers in the bottom of the bag. Next, the clothing and toiletries were packed, and lastly, he placed the art work that Gus had made and the few breakable items on top.

"You're very efficient at that," Brian commented as he watched Justin methodically pack the duffle.

Justin grinned at the compliment, rewarding Brian with another toe curling kiss. "Had more practice than I care to admit. What with moving in and out of your loft, back and forth to Daphne's and Debbie's, and of course, we can't forget the New York to Pittsburgh run that was a part of my life this last year and a half," Justin jokingly reminded Brian as he zipped the bag closed after looking in the hospital room and bathroom again. "It's almost 9:00, I hope Drew gets here soon. I know you're anxious to go home."

"Can't leave until the Doc gives the okay, and he hasn't come in this morning. Guess he's running late from the weather as well."

"I forgot about him. So, do you want to finish your paper? I can always draw," Justin asked, trying to distract Brian.

"Might as well. I've already watched the news; the anchors just repeat the same information all morning," Brian agreed as he picked up the newspaper from his lap and returned to reading his article.

Shortly after 9:00, Drew arrived. "Sorry I'm late, but there's an accident on the turnpike. We'll probably want to go around that. Are you ready to leave?" Drew asked.

"Hey, take a seat. The doc hasn't arrived yet, and I can't blow this popsicle stand until I sign out and they release me," Brian directed as he pointed to the empty chair. "Want part of the paper? It might be a while." He held out the paper for Drew, so Drew took the sports page.

The three men sat in silence, the noises unique to the hospital the only sounds in the room. Justin's stomach rumbled loudly enough for all three men to hear.

"Jesus! Didn't Daphne feed you this morning?" Brian exclaimed.

"I had eggs, toast, and juice for breakfast."

Brian nodded at the short list. "Go down to the cafeteria and get some food. I refuse to listen to your stomach make those noises," Brian directed.

Justin put his sketch pad back in his messenger bag, and then walked over to Brian, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back soon." He turned toward Drew. "Want to come? Maybe you could stop at the gift shop and pick up something to read. It might be a while."

Drew stood up, following Justin to the door. Turning toward Brian he asked, "Want anything?"

"Yeah --find my fucking doctor so I can get out of here," he replied, tongue in cheek.
Both men nodded and left for the cafeteria.

"Thanks again for coming. He's probably going to need your help to get up that ramp in this snow storm. He might've slipped and fallen on those narrow steps in front of his building, and we both know Brian would have tried to get up them. At least with the snow, he won't be trying any stupid show of Kinney superiority and will agree to use the ramp," Justin said as they exited the elevator.

"No problem. And I also got the ramp made for the bedroom stairs. It's in my trunk."

Justin went through the cafeteria line and grabbed a bagel, cream cheese and a carton of chocolate milk. Drew picked up a bottle of juice. They paid for their food and sat down.

"It's weird to have someone sitting at the table with me," Justin remarked as he spread the cream cheese on his bagel.

"I can sit somewhere else," Drew jokingly offered.

"No! No, that's not what I meant. It's just that I've eaten down here a lot in the last month, and I'm usually alone. Believe me, your company is greatly appreciated." Justin took several bites before continuing the conversation. "Huh. I never thought about it, but what do you do in the winter time?"

"I still work! I work out at the gym. Football is a very physical game, so I have to stay in shape all year. I watch tapes of old games to learn how other quarterbacks in the league play. I do get to relax a lot more. During the season, I don't have much free time, so in the off season, I take it easy when I can," Drew explained. He drank half his bottle of juice and then continued. "How was your show? Emmett couldn't stop talking about your ‘big success.'"

Justin finished his bagel before responding. "The show was awesome. Like you, I work really hard when I paint, sometimes going ten or twelve hours or more without stopping. The difference is that the art scene doesn't have a season. When I have a show coming up, I put in long hours, so then I take a few weeks off to regroup, but sometimes I have to start right back up because I have another show or a commission. The big difference is that I can't train my body to perform; my muse comes when it wants to. It may be 3:00 a.m., and I wake up with an idea and have to paint."

"You're so animated when you talk about your painting. You must really love it," Drew observed.

"You're right. I love my work." Justin looked at the clock on the wall. "It's after 10:00. We better get back. If the doctor has released Brian, he'll be fuming that we aren't there."

TBC

They walked back to the fifth floor and into Brian's room. Thankfully, Brian was still sitting in his chair, reading, and didn't appear agitated. Justin leaned over and kissed him briefly, returning to his chair and sketch pad. Drew picked up his autobiography of Troy Aikmen and began to read.

Almost an hour later, Dr. Moya came in. "Hello, Mr. Kinney," he greeted Brian as he held out his hand. "Ready to go home?"

Justin looked at Brian, recognizing the agitation on his face and knew that Brian would answer with a sarcastic response at best; therefore, he intervened, "We're all ready for Brian to go home."

Dr. Moya signed the necessary papers, and then asked Brian to sign in the appropriate places. "Remember, no weight bearing for a week. Keep your cast dry. Watch your alcohol and drug intake, Mr. Kinney. Neither one of us want a return visit. Do you have any questions about your care?"

"No. Can I go now?" Brian impatiently asked.

"You're free to go. I'll tell the nurse to call for a transportation aide." He turned and left the room.

"That prick. ‘No weight bearing, Keep your cast dry. Watch your alcohol and drug intake,'" Brian mimicked the doctor. "Fuck! I'm not a child."

Justin tried to defuse Brian's mood by kissing him, hoping to distract Brian, and he seemed to relax. The aide entered the room, bringing a wheelchair. Justin pointed to a wheelchair in the corner.

"We rented a chair. Can we use this one?"


"Sure," the aide answered.

Justin gave Brian his crutches and watched as he maneuvered himself into the chair. Justin placed his crutches across the arm rests of the chair, and the three men left the room. Drew went to get the car as Justin kept Brian company in the hospital lobby.

Drew drove up; Justin placed the bags in the trunk, and opened the back door for Brian.

"What the fuck? I'm a second class citizen and have to sit in the back?" Brian crabbed.

"No, but there's more room in the back, and you can put your leg up," Justin explained patiently, taking a deep breath and trying to stay calm.

"Move then, so I can get in," Brian demanded. Brian put the crutches on either side of the chair and tried to get up. He walked to the car door and turned to get in. He bent his knee but couldn't bend down far enough to slide into the seat. "Shit! Fuck! The seat's too fucking low!"

"Easy, Brian. Just go back to the chair and I'll wheel the chair to the car, then you can transfer to the seat," Justin suggested.

Brian used his arms and good leg to push himself over and place his casted leg on the seat, then he slid his ass onto the car seat. None of the men said a word. Drew put the wheelchair in the trunk as Justin got in the front seat. They left the covered driveway and made their way onto the snow-covered roads.

It took Drew an hour and a half to make his way to the loft, a trip that usually took thirty minutes. Brian's leg was throbbing from the awkward angle, and he never thought he would be so happy to see the loft. Drew drove into the alley behind the building, attempting to get as close as possible to the ramp. He got the wheelchair from the trunk and wheeled it to Brian. Brian attempted to slide directly into the chair, but since he was sitting with his back to the door, he found that he didn't have enough leverage to push himself. Drew locked the wheelchair and placed himself between the door and Brian. He placed his arm around Brian's back and helped lift him into the chair.

Brian attempted to wheel the chair in the snow, but the chair didn't move. Without a word being said, Drew pushed the chair up the ramp while Justin opened the door into the building. Justin had finally learned the location of the light switch and he turned on the light, illuminating the dark area. The three men made their way to the lift and took Brian up to the loft. Once Brian was inside, Drew excused himself to bring the duffle and the crutches up, leaving the two men alone in the loft for the first time in over six months.

"Give me my crutches, Justin. I gotta piss," Brian demanded.

"There in the car and Drew isn't back yet. He should be back in a minute."

"Then fucking wheel me in there!"

"I can't get your chair over the steps," Justin explained.

"Damn it. I thought you were getting a fucking ramp!"

"Drew has it in his car. Just wait a few minutes, and he'll be back. I'll go help him bring everything in," Justin suggested.

"Go. My bladder's going to burst."

Justin ran down the stairs, knowing the lift was usually even slower in the cold weather. On the way down, he saw Drew in the lobby.

"I've already sent for the lift. No use running up the stairs, Justin."

"Brian's gotta piss and I can't get him in the bathroom. We have to hurry," Justin explained a little breathlessly.

"I hear the lift now. It shouldn't be too long."

The lift arrived, and they made their way up to the loft. Justin took the ramp from Drew, placing it over the stairs, then wheeled Brian into the bathroom.

"Justin, I may have a nine and a half inch dick, but it can't reach the toilet from this chair. I need my crutches so I can stand," Brian teased.

Justin returned to the bathroom with Brian's crutches, then he assisted Brian in pulling down his lounge pants.

Brian gave one of the crutches to Justin as he took his dick in hand and peed. "Ahh," he sighed in relief. "Now, give me the other crutch back so I can walk to the sink to wash my hands."

Justin did as Brian requested, moving the chair out of the way. Brian washed his hands, and then walked out of the bathroom.

"Want to get into bed, or do you want to sit on the couch?" Justin asked.

"Hell, no! I've spent way too much time in bed the last month. Besides, I'm hungry."

Jose had taught Brian to maneuver stairs and he was quite adept at going down stairs but climbing up was much harder. The ramp was helpful, but now that he had time, he used the crutches and walked to the staircase where he tentatively placed one crutch on the bottom step and placed his leg out over the step as Jose had shown him. Next he leaned down to swing his good leg down. He repeated the process three times, but was sweating profusely from the effort.

Justin knew better than to say anything, but he brought the chair to Brian and motioned to it. "Why don't you sit in your chair? You don't want to scrape up the couch with your cast."

Brian maneuvered himself into the chair, and Justin put the leg support up on the chair.

Drew brought in the last of the items from the car. "I think I got everything. Emmett sent over a bag of food and I placed the containers in the fridge. Do you need anything? Medication? Newspaper?" Drew asked.

"No thanks. The pharmacy filled the prescriptions before we left, and Daphne and I went shopping the other day. I think we're good. Thanks again, Drew, for all your help... I don't know what I would have done," Justin replied.

"No problem, Glad to help. Call if you need anything," Drew said as he walked to the door. Justin let him out, closed the door and turned on the alarm.

Looking at Brian, he saw the pained expression on his face. He went into the kitchen, poured a glass of Guava juice and placed a cut up apple on a plate. He opened the pill bottle and took out two pills. "Here, eat this and then take these. You'll feel better," Justin directed as he handed Brian the food and pills.

Brian ate the apple, drank the juice and then took the pain medication as directed. Justin wheeled him into the bedroom, and helped him get comfortable in his big bed. Without a word, Justin took off his pants and shirt and climbed in bed beside Brian. He pulled the duvet over the two of them, and held Brian as they fell asleep together.

Justin woke up to Brian's restless movements. He gently released Brian from his hold and walked to the living room. Looking outside, he saw that it was still snowing, but it had slowed down since the morning. Walking to the window, he peered onto the street below, where he saw the plows had left piles of dirty snow on the side of the road. It was an unfortunate reminder of winter in his new/old home of Pittsburgh.

Walking into the kitchen, he made some coffee and took out the gourmet sliced turkey that Emmett had sent with Drew. He made a turkey sandwich for Brian, knowing he'd wake up cranky and hungry. Em had also sent some pasta salad and canapés left over from a wedding he'd catered on Saturday. Justin placed the canapés on a plate to heat in the microwave, but didn't heat them yet.

Justin returned to the bedroom, where he saw Brian opening his eyes and blinking at the bright light.

"What the fuck did you give me, Justin?" Brian accused.

"I gave you the pain meds the doctor prescribed. He said you could have one when I got you home; said you would probably be in a lot of pain," Justin explained. "Anyway, you've been asleep for about three hours. Are you hungry? I've got a turkey sandwich made from Em's gourmet stash. He sent Drew with a care basket."

Brian sat up, wincing as the motion jarred his leg. "Yeah, I could eat."

"Good. I'll bring the tray in, and you can eat in bed."

"Fuck, no! I ate in bed for the last month. I'm eating at the table, or the couch, or anywhere but this fucking bed," Brian said vehemently.

"Okay, okay." Justin put his hands up. "Let me get your chair."

"I don't fucking need the chair. What I need is my crutches and for you to stop treating me like an invalid! I have a broken leg, not a broken mind," Brian yelled at Justin.

Justin bristled at Brian's tone, but didn't respond back, knowing that Brian was like a wounded animal at the moment, and like all wounded animals, would fight back. So he handed him the crutches and moved out of the way, allowing Brian to walk to the living area. They found he could maneuver the stairs going down more easily than going up.

Brian sat down at the table, but his leg throbbed when he left it on the ground. "Justin, will you bring me a pillow and a chair?"

Justin brought the requested items, and then put the turkey sandwich on the table. He heated his canapés, bringing them and the pasta salad to the table as well. They ate in silence.

"I didn't say you can't talk to me. Your silence is eerie. What is going on in that blond head of yours?"

"How's your leg?" Justin asked.

"It's fucking broken. What kind of question is that?" Brian looked at Justin, seeing the slight blush on his face. Smiling, he averted his eyes to the bedroom. "I think we can test out some positions, if that is what you want to know."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Brian," Justin said coyly.

"Why don't I take me and my leg back to the bedroom, and you can help me get rid of these clothes. Then we can see how the leg feels?" Brian suggested.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Brian wheeled himself up the ramp, not wanting to take the time or effort to use his crutches. Justin walked up the stairs, stripping off his clothing as he made his way to the bed. When Brian got to the bedroom, Justin helped him take off his clothes, then lay down on the bed. Justin licked his lips when he saw Brian's beautiful cock lying on his abdomen.

"I've dreamt of this moment for so long," Justin admitted.

"Less talk and more action," Brian urged, not wanting to hear Justin's thoughts on missing him.

Justin leaned on his knees, feet tucked under his body, and caressed Brian's left leg as the right one had a cast up to his mid thigh. "Lay back, enjoy," Justin whispered. He started with the ankle, massaging it lightly and kissing up Brian's leg until he reached Brian's groin. Brian spread his legs, providing easier access to Justin. Justin blew on Brian's cock as his hands fondled his balls. Brian's moans of pleasure brought a smile to Justin's face. He had really missed the exquisite noises Brian made during sex. Brian tried to lift up, allowing Justin access to his hole.

"Shit!" Brian yelled.

Justin stopped and sat up. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, panic written all over his face.

"No. Just can't lift up with this fucking cast," Brian stated, frustrated.

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out." He patted Brian's leg as he licked Brian's balls. Justin inhaled Brian's scent, his mouth working quicker as he smelled the strong pheromones.

"I want to sit on your cock," Justin said breathlessly.

"Get the lube and bring your ass over here. I want to prepare you. I can still do that," Brian demanded as playfully slapped Justin's back.

Justin leaned over and grabbed the lube from the night stand, handing it to Brian. Bringing his ass toward Brian, Justin wiggled it in front of Brian's hand. Brian squeezed a generous amount of lube on his fingers, placing them on Justin's perineum. He ran a finger up and down the sensitive area, finally breaching the tight ring of muscle.

Justin hissed at the intrusion, but quickly adjusted and began moving on Brian's finger. Brian added another finger, and Justin moaned at the feeling of fullness in his ass.

"Been so long...feels so good. Yeah...want you to fuck me so hard. Feels so good. More, Brian.

Brian pulled his fingers out of Justin's ass, hitting his ass cheek. "Put the condom on me. Go slow. Don't want you hurting yourself, Justin," he said affectionately. He was hoping Justin wasn't too far gone to catch the familiar phrase.

Justin grinned and turned around as he opened the familiar packet with his teeth. After placing the latex on Brian's cock, he leaned down and kissed Brian, plunging his tongue deep into Brian's mouth. Straddling Brian, he slowly sat down, pushing the tip of his cock past the tight ring.

"Ohhh." Justin's head went back, eyes closing at the sensation. He continued sliding down Brian's cock until it was fully sheathed in his ass. He waited while his body adjusted to the sensation.

"Fuck, Justin move!" Brian yelled.

Justin slowly lifted until just the tip of Brian's cock was in his hole, and then he slowly inched back down until it was fully sheathed. He repeated this action three or four times, and then the fifth time, instead of going slowly when he sat down, he drove his ass down on Brian's cock. Brian grabbed Justin's waist and began moving his body, setting the rhythm for their joining. Justin reached down, pulling his cock in time with their movements. Justin felt his orgasm building and increased the pace. His thighs burned, but he was oblivious to the pain. He felt Brian's pulsing cock and then he felt himself coming. Exhausted and tingling, he started to lie down on Brian's chest, but Brian pushed off.

"Hurts the leg. You better get up."

Justin quickly got up, going to the bathroom to grab a wet towel to clean them off. "Well, that sure beats getting off in the hospital," he stated when he returned to the bed.

Brian nodded his head. "It'd be better if I could've nailed your ass to the mattress, but that will have to wait about eight more weeks." Brian looked at the clock. "It's early. Why don't you help me get dressed, and I can get some work done. I've got a lot to do before tomorrow."

Justin helped Brian get dressed, and then straightened the sheets. "I think I'll make some phone calls while you work. Let everyone know we got home okay."

"Good idea. If you'll hand me that folder, I'll get to work."

TBC

Justin made his calls, and Brian worked most of the afternoon. As the sun waned, Justin turned on the lights and worked on his latest sketches. Occasionally he glanced at Brian, watching for signs of fatigue, but it appeared that he was adjusting to being home.

"Shit! I promise I told them all not to come until tomorrow," Justin lamented as he heard the familiar buzz announcing a visitor to the loft.

Brian smiled as he stretched and directed, "I told you they wouldn't listen. Go see who it is?"

"Yes," Justin said as he pressed the button.

"It's me, Deb. I know you said not to come over, but with this blizzard, I was worried that you couldn't get to the store. So I packed a few things from the diner and walked over."

Justin pressed the buzzer unlocking the door to the building. "Come on up, Debbie." He opened the door and waited for the lift to bring her up to the loft.

She walked right into the kitchen as if it were her own. "Now I've got some meat loaf, tuna casserole and a few turkey sandwiches. Of course, I bought lemon bars, too," she announced as she began unpacking her bag. She opened the refrigerator, placing the containers on the shelves. "You boys have food in there. I'm proud of you, Sunshine."

"Thanks for bringing over the food, but you didn't have to. As you can see, Brian is doing just fine," Justin said as he tried to steer her towards the door.

"Sunshine, I just got here, and I've been working all day! Come sit down and tell me all about that art show. You haven't been by to see me since you got back," Debbie urged.

"Justin, go sit with Debbie and tell her all about ‘Nude York,'" Brian instructed.

Justin rolled his eyes, but did as Brian asked and sat with Debbie. "....So, it was a great success. Of course, I hope that my next show will be solo, and I want everyone to be there."

"I'd love to see it. Your mom must be so proud of you!" She placed a big kiss on Justin's cheek and then rubbed her thumb to smear the lipstick color off. When his cheek was clear, she hugged Justin in one of her famous squeezes.

"Deb, it's late. Let me walk you home," Justin insisted as he saw the light of the street lights from outside.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I can walk. It's not far," Debbie insisted.

"I'll walk you home. Its slick out there, and Michael would never forgive me if you slipped on your way home. Brian can take care of himself."

"Well, okay. Brian, you take care," She directed as she kissed him goodbye.

"Yes Mom," Brian answered.

"Why don't you stop for the night? It is your first night back and..." Justin suggested as he leaned over to kiss Brian on the cheek.

"I'll stop when I'm ready, Justin. Now, go take Debbie home. Take the ‘Vette--that way, it won't take as long. You know where I keep the keys."

Justin opened his mouth to respond, but decided against it. He grabbed the keys from the drawer and walked Deb out to the car.

"Thanks for the food, Deb. As you can see, his highness, Brian Kinney is the same stubborn asshole we all know and love. You don't have to check up on him." Justin opened the car door for Debbie.

"You know, I don't think I've ever ridden in this car. I can't believe he lets you drive it," Debbie commented as she put on her seatbelt.

"Things change. One day, you and everyone else will accept that Brian is not the man you thought he was," Justin stated. He put on his seat belt and started the ignition. "I fucking hate snow! Why couldn't I be born in some warm city where it didn't snow all winter long?" Justin lamented.

He backed out the car and cautiously drove Deb home. She lived a ten minute walk from the diner and the diner was only a few minutes from the loft. The drive only took five minutes by car. He stopped the car in Deb's driveway and got out to walk her to the door.

"Believe me, Sunshine; I know better than anyone that there is more to Brian Kinney than meets the eye. Just be careful. I don't want either one of you hurt." She kissed him again and turned to unlock the door. "Now go. He needs you, even if he won't say so."

Justin drove back to the loft, returning in less than half an hour.

He walked in to see Brian pinching the bridge of his nose, signaling that he had a headache. Justin went over to massage Brian's back and shoulders.

"Hungry?" Justin asked.

"Not really, but I know you're going to tell me to eat something if I'm going to take a pain pill." Brian reached for Justin's hand and brought it to his lips, brushing it with a gentle kiss. Justin moved his body in front of Brian's, placing his wrists around Brian's neck. Leaning down, he gently kissed Brian and Brian reciprocated.

Pulling away from the kiss, Justin said, "I'll heat you up some tuna casserole, then we can watch some television."

"Okay," Brian acquiesced.

Justin heated the casserole and gave Brian another pain pill. Brian didn't want to sit on the couch with his cast, so he agreed to return to the wheelchair. Justin sat next to the chair while they watched ‘Mutiny on the Bounty.' Justin glanced at Brian several times, and saw that he was fighting to keep his eyes open. He waited until the movie was over before suggesting they go to bed. Brian did not fight the suggestion.

The next morning, Brian woke with a full bladder. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed his crutches. He made his way to the bathroom unassisted, but found that he couldn't piss without giving up a crutch.

"Justin!" he yelled in frustration. "Justin, get your ass in here, now!"

Justin sat up in bed at the sound of Brian's voice and looked around. Realizing Brian was in the bathroom, he hurried in. "What do you need?"

"Hold the damn crutch. I gotta piss." He shoved the crutch toward Justin as he reached for his dick. He pissed, sighing with relief. "I'll take that," he said as he reached for the crutch in Justin's hand. "Now, help me in the shower. I've got a limo coming at nine, and I need to be ready."

"If I'm not here, you'll have to sit down and piss. I doubt Cynthia will hold it for you," Justin teased.

Brian smiled at Justin's comment as he hobbled to the sink to wash his hands. "No, I don't think she would hold it for me. Now there were some nurses that would have been more than happy to do the honors," Brian said tongue in cheek.

Justin emptied his bladder. "Brian, are you sure about this? Cynthia can work here. She told me she didn't mind coming to the loft."

"I need to get back to the office. So, are you going to help me or not?" Brian asked again, the exasperation barely hidden in his tone.

"Let me gather the supplies." After washing his hands, Justin grabbed the shower chair and placed it in the shower stall. He went to the kitchen, got the saran wrap, and wrapped Brian's leg. He adjusted the water, and then signaled for Brian to get in.

"Aren't you coming in?"

"No. Not enough room. Can you do this with your crutches? Won't they slip?"

"I can't exactly roll my chair in, so how do you suggest I get in?" Brian said tersely.

Justin turned off the shower and opened the shower door. "I guess you'll have to turn the water on yourself once you get seated. Why don't you use your crutches and go sit on the seat, then I'll take your crutches and you can turn on the shower."

Brian walked to the shower, but he couldn't get over the lip of the shower door. "I can't fucking hop on one leg!" he yelled when he realized his dilemma. "Christ. I'm not taking any more sponge baths."

"How'd you take a shower at the hospital?" Justin questioned him, hoping to find a solution.

"It was a roll in shower, so I didn't think about it. I rolled my wheelchair in; the first time I tried to stand up, of course, I ended up on the fucking floor."

"Oh," Justin said. "Why don't I take your shower chair to the sink and give you a sponge bath today, and then I can talk to Drew and see if he can come over and help lift you into the shower tonight. You could take your showers at night, instead of the mornings," Justin suggested.

Brian turned toward Justin with a bright red face. "Are you fucking nuts? I will not be carried into the shower for the next eight weeks! I'll call Jose and see what he suggests." Brian slowly used his crutches, making his way to the phone in the kitchen and called Jose. Luckily, his card was sitting out on the counter with all the medical discharge papers.

The phone rang five times before the voice mail came on. "You have reached Jose. I'm currently assisting patients, but if you will leave your name and phone number, I will get back to you as soon as possible."

"Shit! Look Jose, this is Brian. I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Call me at 222-3333." Brian disconnected the phone and threw it across the room. It landed on the rug by the couch.

Justin watched Brian's tantrum, but didn't say anything. "Want some breakfast? Maybe by the time you're finished, Jose will have called you back," Justin asked calmly. He went to the floor and picked up the phone, pushing the button to ensure he received a dial tone. He placed the phone back in its charging cradle and went to the refrigerator, grabbing the guava juice. "Have some juice," he said as he poured a small glass. "Sit down. Your leg is going to start throbbing."

Brian picked up the juice and drank the contents in one swallow. Then, he went to the computer table, motioning for Justin to bring a chair and a pillow. Justin brought the items. "You want me to cancel the car?"

"Yeah... I can't fucking go to the office without a shower. I stink. I'll call Cynthia and tell her it will be at least tomorrow before I come in."

Justin called the limo company and then went to the bedroom to make the bed.

"I thought you were going to make breakfast," Brian reminded Justin.

"You never answered me. What do you want?" Justin yelled from the bedroom.

"Wheat toast and one egg white, scrambled."

"That won't fill you up," Justin commented as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Let me be the judge of that. After I eat, I guess you can give me a sponge bath. At least you will be more excited by the prospect of seeing me naked than the male nurse that I had."

As they finished breakfast, the phone rang.

"Hello," Justin answered.

"... Hi Jose. Yeah, I'll let you speak to him." He handed the phone to Brian.

"I need to take a shower. Any suggestions?"

"... I got a chair. I can use my crutches to get to the stall, but I can't get over the lip of the shower. I can't exactly hop over the bar."

"...So I have to wait until I get a walking cast. That sucks. Isn't there some little ramp my wheelchair could use to get over the lip?"

"...I was afraid you'd say that. So I guess its sponge baths for at least a week until I can stand on the leg."

"...No, I don't have a tub. See you in a few weeks."

Justin looked at Brian to relay the conversation. "Essentially, I'm fucked for another week. If I had a tub, I could sit in my wheelchair and slide onto the shower chair. If I take a shower, I have to have a roll in shower - something I don't have. So, lucky you... you get to give me sponge baths for at least the next week."

Justin got up to kiss Brian. "Just think of all the blow jobs I can give you," he reminded Brian. "You-naked-at my mercy. That should be fun." He grinned.

Brian smiled, running his eyes over Justin's crotch. "So why don't we start now? I stink, and Cynthia's coming at 10:00. That should be sufficient time for you to blow me at least twice and get me clean," Brian suggested.

"Sounds good to me! Let me go move your shower chair to the sink and gather your toiletries. I'll meet you there."

Brian made his way to the bathroom as Justin gathered the supplies. Justin blew Brian during his "sponge bath" which helped Brian relax a little. He then helped Brian get dressed in sweats and an Armani t-shirt.

"Thanks. I like the smell of men's bodies, but I hate the smell of my own dirty body," Brian commented as he eyed himself. "I think my crutches will get in my way while Cynthia is working here. Help me into my wheelchair and put the ramp over the stairs."

Justin smiled and did as Brian asked. He was proud that Brian was accepting of some of his limitations. He knew that Brian would not come out and say using crutches was hard, but this allowed him to save face. He leaned over and kissed Brian, using a little tongue.

"Brian," Justin hesitated. "If you could have taken a shower, what were you planning to wear to work? You can't put your cast in any of your pants."

"You're right, I can't. I had Theodore special order several pairs of pants for me. They're hanging in the right side of the closet." Brian smiled at Justin's exasperated look.

"Why didn't you tell me? I was really worried about getting you dressed."

Brian laughed. "It's fun to keep you guessing, Justin. Cynthia will be here any time. What are your plans for the day?"

"I'm supposed to meet my mom around 11:00, and she's going to show me some properties for potential studio space. Then we're going to lunch," Justin responded. He cleared away the breakfast dishes. "I'm going to take my shower." He walked back to the bedroom and Brian continued to work.

By the time Justin finished his shower, Cynthia had arrived, and they were hard at work. Justin kissed Brian, reminded him where his meds were, and left.


Justin met his mother and she showed him a few properties. None of them were what he was looking for, so she agreed to continue searching. They stopped at the diner for lunch. Jennifer asked about the trip home and Brian's adjustment to the loft. Justin relayed the trials of the morning, but insisted that they would get through the difficult time.

"Have you heard from Sam? I'm so anxious to hear what the critics said about your show," Jennifer asked as she perused the menu.

"I haven't had time to look at my email. I've had my hands full with Brian," Justin explained as he picked up the menu.

Deb came over. "Sunshine, shouldn't you be at the loft with Brian?"

Justin shook his head. "He's not an invalid, Debbie. He just has a broken leg. I'll have a hamburger, fries and a chocolate shake."

"I'll have the tuna melt," Jennifer said.

"Coming right up," Debbie said as she wrote down their orders.

"Justin, you need to keep in touch with Sam. You've worked too hard to let it go."

"Mom, I'm not letting anything go. I just haven't had time. I promise, my art is important to me, but so is Brian. Right now, he has to come first."

Jennifer reached out and grasped Justin's hand. "I understand... and I trust you. So how's Daphne?"

Their food arrived and they caught up on each other's lives while eating. Justin insisted on paying the bill, leaving a nice tip for Debbie.

"I've got to go to the art store and order some new canvas and paints. I'll talk to you later this week. Call me if you find studio space; I want to have a place as soon as possible."

Jennifer walked with Justin to the counter, and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Take care, Justin. I love you, sweetheart." She watched as Justin left the diner.

‘He's a good kid. Don't worry about him and Brian, Jennifer. The big lug loves him, he just doesn't say it out loud," Debbie assured her. "Say, why don't you go visit him? It's just a few blocks away."

"No, I have a client this afternoon. And, I think I'll wait until Justin invites me. I don't want to intrude on them. They have enough to deal with right now. Well, bye, Debbie."

"Bye, see you soon." Debbie watched as Jennifer left the diner.

Justin returned to the loft about 4:00 p.m., carrying his new art supplies. Absently, he opened the door and called for Brian, but didn't get a response.

Frantic, he scanned the loft, only to see that Brian had fallen asleep in his computer chair, his head on the desk and the screen flashing the little Apple icon. He quietly put the supplies down, grabbed a new sketchbook and started sketching his favorite subject. As the sun set, he put away the drawing and went to the bedroom to read. He saw that he'd been home for over an hour, and went to Brian.

Shaking Brian, he whispered in his ear, "Brian? Brian, you need to get up. You're really going to be sore if you keep sleeping here."

Brian grumbled and looked up. "What the fuck? Justin?"

"You fell asleep. Why don't you go to the bedroom if you're still tired?"

"No, I'm fine. But, why don't you hand me my crutches so I can take a piss."

Justin handed Brian his crutches and watched as he made his way to the stairs leading to the bedroom.

"Fuck! Why didn't you just bring me the wheelchair?"

Justin didn't answer Brian; Brian nodded his head in understanding. "Okay, okay. From now on, just bring me the fucking chair," Brian conceded.

Justin brought him the chair and he rolled himself to the bathroom, then Justin brought him his crutches so he could stand. "You think we could keep a set of crutches in the bathroom so I can do this by myself?" Brian asked as he exited the bathroom.

"I don't see why not. We rented these. We can rent a second pair. Want me to go to the pharmacy and get a pair now? It's early; they should still be open," Justin volunteered.

"Yeah, great. Take the ‘Vette. It will be faster, and I know it's fucking freezing out there."

"Okay. Be back in a few. While I'm gone, why don't you think about what you want to eat," Justin suggested.

Justin returned forty five minutes later with the new crutches and a hand held rolling massager to use on Brian's back and shoulder muscles since they were starting to cramp from using the crutches. He walked into the loft, finding Brian on the bed, and the blue lights on.

"Oh, am I dinner tonight?" Justin teased. "I'm not very filling, and don't have a lot of protein..."

Brian laughed. "Ah, but you're wrong. I have it on good authority that you possess high protein nourishment and can be very filling." Brian patted the bed beside him, motioning for Justin to join him.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be accused of giving you false information." Justin walked to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in his path. "I guess we could start dinner with a Justin Taylor appetizer."

"Sounds yummy," Brian replied as he licked his lips. "Now get your cock up here so I can have my high protein snack.

Justin straddled Brian's chest, bringing his cock in line with Brian's mouth. This was the easiest position for Brian at the moment, as he could lay his leg straight out, and didn't have to move a lot. Justin fed him his cock, and Brian lapped at the engorged flesh. He used his hands to play with Justin's ass, and then grabbed it, bringing Justin's cock closer to his mouth. He controlled Justin's movements, slowing down and speeding up as he desired. He wet one of his fingers and traced Justin's crack with the moist digit, then pushed into Justin's hole and increased the speed of Justin's thrusts. He felt the tightening of Justin's ass, signaling his imminent release and he increased his movements, pushing hard against Justin's prostate to add to the stimulation. Justin jerked, and shot down Brian's throat; sated, he scooted down Brian's chest so he could kiss Brian.

They kissed for a few moments, and then Justin moved his mouth to Brian's leaking cock. He laved, sucked and fondled the hard shaft. Brian was aroused and came within a few minutes. Justin moved up to Brian's mouth again and kissed him, both enjoying the taste of themselves on the other's tongue.

Justin's stomach growled, and Brian swatted his ass. "I guess that means that the hors d'oeurvres are over, and the main course needs to be served."

"What are you hungry for?" Justin asked as he grabbed his underwear.

"I'm not really hungry, but maybe some of Deb's Puttanesca."

Justin went into the kitchen and pulled out the pasta, placing portions on two plates, and then heated them in the microwave. He grabbed some salad and placed it into bowls as well. When the microwave dinged, he put the food on the table and called to Brian.

"Why don't you come help me get dressed, and then we'll eat," Brian yelled from the bedroom.

"Oh, yeah. Coming." Justin went to the bedroom and helped Brian get dressed. While they ate dinner, they talked.

"Did you get much work done?"

Brian rolled his eyes at the question, but decided to be honest. "Not really. Cynthia got here about 10:30 , but by 1:00 I was worn out. I guess you were right about taking it easy. Cynthia suggested that she come over for just a few hours tomorrow, and we'll take it from there."

"I see. And you're going to take the suggestion?" Justin asked tentatively.

"I don't like it, but if I can't keep my eyes open, I'm not much good to anyone. Déjà vu, except this time I'm not getting my balls fried."

Justin leaned over and kissed Brian, and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"How was your day? Find a suitable studio space?"

"No, dammit. Mom found four properties, but none were really right. She said she'll keep looking," Justin explained. He ate the last of his pasta and got up to refill his bowl. "Want more?" He motioned to the bowl.

"No, thanks."

Justin fixed another bowl of pasta and returned to the table when it was finished heating. "We had lunch at the diner afterwards, and then I bought some new art supplies. Not a very exciting day."

"Good. Glad you bought some new supplies--I want you to paint," Brian commented. He grabbed his crutches from their place against the table. "Justin, why don't you put a blanket on the couch; maybe then I won't ruin the leather. I'm getting tired of sitting or lying in bed. I'd love to stretch out on the couch and be comfortable."

"Sure." Justin got out a blanket and placed it on the couch, then returned to the table to clear the dishes and place them in the dishwasher. By the time he was finished, Brian had maneuvered himself onto the couch.

"Want anything?" Justin asked.

"A shot of Beam would be good."

"When's the last time you had a pain pill?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Justin! You are not my babysitter!"

Justin cringed but asked again, "When's the last time you had a pain pill?"

"Fucking yesterday. I didn't take one this morning since I was planning on going to work. Now, give me the fucking drink!"

Justin went to the bar and poured Brian a drink. Brian drank it quickly and held out his glass for a refill. Justin cringed when the glass was shoved his way, but he kept quiet. After two drinks, Brian put down his glass.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Justin asked

Brian shrugged. Justin recognized the movement as Brian's way of saying ‘I'm pissed but I'm not dealing with the issue right now. Do whatever the fuck you want.'

"I rented some movies while I was out today. I picked up Shrek 3, Pirates of the Caribbean 3, and Spiderman 3. What sounds good?"

"Jesus, doesn't anyone ever make an original movie anymore? Which do you want to watch?"

"Shrek 3 has some awesome animation. I'd love to see what they did," Justin explained.

"So now I have to watch cartoons," Brian half teased, rolling his eyes. "Go ahead."

They turned on the movie, but before they watched a half hour of it, the buzzer rang.

"And so it begins," Brian stated.

Justin hit the buzzer, asking the person to be identified, not surprised when Michael announced himself. Justin buzzed him up, greeting him at the door.

Michael went immediately to Brian, giving him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. He sat down at the end of the couch.

"I'm so glad you're home! You look good... how was the trip home? I bet it was a bitch driving in the snow...Ben and Hunter say Hi! You've got to come by the store--I changed the display of Rage and JT, and it is so awesome...so, when are you going to Babylon ? Your public misses you," Michael rattled off the questions without paying the least amount of attention to Brian or Justin's pained looks.

Brian pinched the space above his nose, trying to ward off the headache that was forming there. "Slow down, Mikey. I'm not going anywhere," Brian said slowly, hoping the pace of his voice would slow Michael's questions. "Yes, I'm home and it is good to be here. I really didn't pay much attention to the drive home, just was happy to be out of that hell-hole of a hospital. As for Babylon, I can't exactly dance at the moment, and dropping trou in the back room when you have to hold on to a crutch is so lame," Brian explained.

Michael smiled at the familiar banter, not responding to Brian's pronouncements. "So, Hunter is thinking of joining the swim team again and he's started applying to colleges. Who knew I would get so caught up in fatherhood," Michael droned on.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose again, but Michael didn't notice.

"Michael, thanks for coming by, but it's been a really long day. Brian's tired, and we were just starting the movie. Why don't you call him tomorrow and talk then," Justin encouraged.

"But, Brian and I haven't really talked in a long time," he began.

"Time for you to go," Brian announced.

"Oh. Okay," Michael said as he stood up. He quickly bussed Brian on the cheek and walked to the door. "Call me if you need anything. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Justin quickly shut the door. "Guess I'm not a very good gatekeeper," he observed.

"Michael can be really dense and self-centered. You did fine. Now, come watch the movie. The animation is very good." Brian patted the couch, and Justin returned to his seat.

They watched the movie for another half an hour and the buzzer rang again. Justin stopped the movie and asked the caller to ID himself.

"Justin, its Emmett. I've brought salmon cakes and other goodies!"

"Come on up." Justin turned toward Brian. "I guess we'll never finish the movie."

"They stayed away until today. You did good, Justin. But, try to get rid of him quickly."

Justin opened the door, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Emmett swooshed in, bags of food in each hand.

"Hi, Brian! You're looking much improved. Color is good too. I guess being in the loft agrees with you," Emmett announced as he unloaded the bags of food. "I've brought you some of those salmon cakes you liked so much. There's also a spinach soufflé and a Mandarin orange salad that is to die for." He folded up the paper bags, then placed the food in the refrigerator. "My, my, Debbie has been here. There's enough pasta in here to feed a large family in Italy. Should I freeze some of it?" he offered.

"No. Between Justin and me, we'll probably eat all the food," Brian answered. "Besides, you know Debbie will be back, and if she sees her pasta is gone, she'll just bring more."

"True." Emmett went to the living room and sat down on the chair, facing Brian. "So, how are you? Does the leg hurt a lot? Do you need anything?"

"Em, we were in the middle of watching a movie. We really appreciate you coming by and bringing food, but..."

"Of course, sweetie. Now, don't you worry. I'll come back in a few days and pick up the empty containers, and bring more food for you two. No need for you to cook, baby. I always have leftovers when I cater. Might as well bring them to you than feed the dogs."

"Thanks again, Em." Justin stood up and walked to the door. Emmett followed him, and kissed him on the cheek as he walked out.

"See, you're learning. Good job," Brian commended him.

Justin beamed at Brian's praise. Again, he sat down to watch the movie, and this time they were not interrupted. It was close to 10:00 when they finished.

"Ready for bed?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. Set the alarm for 7:30. That should give us enough time to get ready before Cynthia comes," Brian directed.

Justin helped Brian get ready for bed, falling asleep easily. The next morning, Justin assisted Brian to bathe and dress, and then made his breakfast. Brian worked at the computer while he waited for Cynthia. Justin left when she arrived, and ran errands. He saw Daphne, and went by his mom's office to see if she had any new places for him to view. He returned home about 4:00 to find Brian busily working at the computer.

"You seem more awake today," Justin remarked as he brought the mail to the table.

"Yeah. Cynthia still left about 1:00, but I obviously didn't feel the need for an afternoon nap. At least now I don't feel like I'm in kindergarten anymore. I think Gus stays up longer than I do," Brian half-kidded.

"I was going to work on my sketches if that is okay with you. I haven't had much time lately, and I promised Sam I would have at least five pieces when I came back to the city at the end of next month."

Brian saved his work on the computer. "Justin, I want you to continue with your career. You told me you could paint here as well as in New York. I don't want you to stop because of me," Brian reminded him. "I do think I'll lie down for a while before dinner. Can you bring me my wheelchair?"

Justin brought him his chair and helped him get into bed, then began working on his latest sketches. He worked for several hours before the grumblings of his stomach made him stop to heat up some food. He checked on Brian, and decided to wake him as he didn't want him to be up all night. Justin fixed dinner, and then they watched Pirates of the Caribbean 3. Unlike the last night, they were uninterrupted.

Thursday was much like the day before, Justin assisting Brian with his morning routine and leaving while Brian and Cynthia worked. Justin's mom showed him some additional properties, and he found one he liked. Since it was empty, he made arrangements to move in the following day. He directed the art store to deliver his latest shipment to the new address, and went to the furniture rental store and rented a futon, table and several lamps. The studio had great lighting, but he found there were times he worked well into the night and needed the artificial light to paint.

Justin came in to the loft and found Brian sitting on the couch reading the Wall Street Journal. He took off his coat and scarf, laying them on the edge of the couch and leaned over the back, giving Brian a full mouth kiss.

"Have a good day?" Brian asked.

"Mom found me a great studio space. It's two block from here on Slater Street. I signed the paperwork and can move in a few days. It's been empty for awhile so I got a good deal on it," Justin chatted as he went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "Want some?" he asked as he held up his bottle.

"No. Thanks. If I drink, that I gotta piss and that means moving to the wheelchair, rolling up the ramp. You get the picture. Just easier not to drink a lot."

"You don't want to get dehydrated. Are you still taking your pain pills? You need to drink a lot of liquids with them," Justin reminded him in his Public Service Announcement voice.

"I'm fine. I promise I piss enough. Now don't you have to get ready to go to the Munchers?' Brian reminded him as he changed the subject.

"Yeah. I've got time to take a quick shower before I leave. Are you coming?"

Brian eyed Justin's crotch and Justin rolled his eyes. "You never change," he teased.

"Wouldn't have me any other way. Would you?"

Justin walked over to the couch again and gave Brian a searing kiss. "No. I love you just the way you are," he sing songed in Billy Joel fashion.

Brian reached up and play swatted him on the top of his head. "Go shower. I'll be waiting for you. Can't wait to see Sonny boy. I haven't seen him since Linds brought him over before your trip."

Justin glanced at the clock on the VCR. "It's later than I thought; otherwise we won't get any playtime with Gus.

While Justin was in the shower, Brian called Jennifer.

"Mother Taylor, its Brian."

"...I'm fine. Justin is a wonderful nurse. You taught him well."

"...Not flattery, just the truth. I understand he signed papers for a new studio. Can you tell me the address?"

"...I know its client information, but I'm his..."

"...Thank you."

Brian hung up his phone and quickly called the art studio where Justin ordered his supplies. He ordered a shipment of canvas and paints to be delivered to the new studio in four days. He had the clerk add a note to the order. "I'm glad you're following your dream. Brian."

Justin finished his shower and dressed quickly. Finding the bag with Gus' shirt in it, he pulled the shirt out and found a gift bag to put it in. He located some colored tissue paper and stuffed it into the bag, and then placed the shirt in the bag as well, topping it with more tissue.

With the bag in his hand, he walked into the living room. "Ready for your first road trip?"

"Ha, ha," Brian snarked. "Oh joy! I get to ride in a minibus like some damn tourist." Justin kissed him quiet, stopping any more comments from Brian. "It's only for a week or until you can put weight on your leg," Justin reminded him.

"I know. I'm never breaking anything ever again," Brian announced.

"Good thing we discussed renting a vehicle for a few weeks. I can't see you getting into the ‘Vette', especially if I have to take your ramp and pack your wheelchair," Justin commented as he placed the keys in his pocket. "We'll take the little ramp. It should fit over the girl's front steps, just in case they're too steep to use your crutches," Justin announced as he grabbed the portable ramp.

Brian grabbed his crutches and laid them over his wheelchair as he rolled out to the elevator. "Shit! I didn't even think of that. I will be so glad when I get rid of this monstrosity," Brian announced

Justin smiled and pushed the elevator button. He left Brian at the back entrance while he retrieved the minivan. It was big, but it would be a lot easier to get Brian and all his paraphernalia to any destination. He drove the van up to the back entrance, getting out and grabbing Brian's crutches. Brian wheeled himself over to the car and got in to the back seat like he did when he came home from the hospital. Justin picked up the wheelchair, folded it and placed it in the back.

They drove in silence to Mel and Lindsay's house, where Justin helped Brian out of the car and into the wheelchair again. Brian wheeled himself up the walkway and used the ramp to get to their porch.

"I hate this wheelchair. Why don't you give me my crutches and we'll bring the chair in, in case I need it," Brian stated as he reached for the crutches.

"It would be easier to stay in your chair," Justin urged him.

"No. I'm not some invalid. I can use my crutches. Now, give them to me."

Justin handed Brian the crutches and watched as he maneuvered out of the chair and onto the crutches. "You're getting pretty adept at that," Justin commented. He moved the chair to the side.

Brian turned up the corners of his mouth but didn't comment. He knocked on the door.

Gus opened the door and started to rush toward Brian, but Justin held him back.
"Slow down, buddy. Your dad is on crutches, so he can't pick you up right now. Why don't you let him come in and then you can sit with him on the couch," Justin suggested.

"Okay, Jus. Dada, what happened to your leg?" Gus asked as he looked at the cast. He reached out to touch the plaster and commented. "It's hard. You look funny walking with those sticks."

"I broke my leg."

"Like when mama broke the vase. She said it is glued back together because it fell. Did you fall?" Gus asked as he touched the cast.

Brian grinned at Gus' analogy. "I fell really hard and the bone broke. The leg is in a cast to help it heal, and I know I look funny on these ‘sticks'" Brian explained.

"Did they glue the bones Dada?"

"No, the bones are inside. The cast helps keep them together so they don't move."

"Oh. Okay. Can you come upstairs and play trucks with me? Jenny Rebecca always gets in the way so Mama told me to play with them in my room." Gus started to walk towards the stairs.

"Sorry, Sonny boy. Stairs are pretty hard for me right now, but when I get rid of the cast, I promise to play trucks with you."

Justin pushed the wheelchair in as he watched Gus look at Brian, willing him to follow him upstairs but understanding that he couldn't right now. Justin automatically looked around for a chair to put by him so he could elevate the leg. He eyed a dining room chair and pulled it over, but it was too high. He pulled the afghan down from the back of the couch and laid it on the seat, and Brian placed his leg on the couch instead.

Lindsay watched the whole scene, smiling at Justin's solicitousness. "Brian, I'm glad you could come. Gus has been asking when he would see his Dada again. How are you feeling? You seem to be maneuvering pretty well," she observed. She walked over to kiss him and gave him a brief hug. "Can you sit at the table or do you want to eat on the couch?"

"I can eat at the table." Turning toward Gus, he gestured to have him join him. "So Sonny boy, what have you been doing?"

Gus couldn't sit next to Brian like he was used to doing, so he sat on the floor next to him. "Mama said you were leaving the hospital, so I made you a new picture." He left the living room and quickly returned with a big picture. Holding it up he smiled as he displayed his work. "See? This is you at your house." He pointed to a stick figure in front of a large building. "I'll have to draw a new one with your white leg. How long do you have to wear it?"

"I'll have Justin put it with the other pictures you've made. I'm getting a large collection."

"If I get enough pictures, can I have a show like Justin?" Gus beamed as he heard Brian had a special place for his pictures."

"Maybe. You've got lots of time to decide if you want to be an artist," Brian smiled as he thought of Justin showing Gus the ropes to the art business." In answer to your question, I have to wear the cast for about two months," Brian informed him.

"That's a long time. But, I guess it wouldn't be so bad, ‘cause you don't have to take a bath every night," Gus proclaimed.

Everyone laughed. "I take a bath, Gus. I just have to wrap my leg so it doesn't get wet. I would be pretty smelly if I didn't take a bath for two months!"

"I guess so," Gus answered. "Hi, Justin. Mama made spaghetti, just like you asked. Can you paint with me? I want to make a new picture for Dada."

"Spaghetti sounds great. I can't help you paint tonight, but I'll try to come over this weekend and we can paint together."

"Okay," Gus sighed after being told no for the second time in just a few minutes.

Justin recognized the disappointment and turned toward Gus. "Oh, and I brought you something from New York," Justin announced.

Gus jumped off the couch and jumped up and down in excitement. "What is it? Can I have it?"

"Gus," Lindsay and Mel both said in a warning tone.

"It's in the bag over by the door. Why don't you bring it in here?" Brian advised him.

Gus ran to the gift bag and brought it back to the room. He grabbed the paper out of the top and found the T-shirt, holding it up so he could see it.

"I heart New York," Gus read the T-shirt. "What does that mean?" he questioned.

"The heart stands for love. It means I love New York. I thought you'd like it," Justin explained as he went to give Gus a hug.

"It's cool. Thanks, Justin." Turning toward his mothers, he asked, "Can I put it on?"

"Why don't you wear it to school tomorrow," Lindsay suggested.

"Okay. Everyone will think it's too cool! Thanks, Justin." He hugged Justin and while he was there, he gave his dad a hug, too.

A bell was heard in the kitchen and Melanie got up to look at the food. "Dinner's ready. Gus, go wash up and tell your sister to come to the table."

Brian maneuvered himself to the dining room table and placed his crutches on the edge so he could reach them.

Melanie placed the food on the table and the platters were passed around for everyone to take what they wanted. Justin piled his plate high with spaghetti and garlic bread, and Brian put a small portion of the pasta on his plate.

"I have some chicken, Brian. I know you don't like to eat carbs this late," Lindsay offered when she saw his plate.

"It's okay. The hospital isn't exactly a ‘no carbs' zone. I'm used to eating them for now," Brian explained.

J.R. and Gus filled their plates, as did Melanie and Lindsay. Everyone ate in silence for a while.

"Justin, how was your show? Lindsay hasn't stopped talking about it since she got back," Mel asked.

Justin finished his bite of garlic bread before answering. "The show was great. I sold almost everything before I left."

Melanie nodded. "That's great! I bet you're anxious to get back."

Justin looked at Brian but Brian only raised his shoulders slightly. "I'm not going back, Mel. I'm staying here and painting. I'll go back to New York about once a month," Justin explained.

"Oh... but, why? It seems to me that you would want to continue showing your art so you can make a name for yourself." Melanie questioned. She twirled some spaghetti on her fork and ate a bite.

"I can paint anywhere. Almost all of the pieces in the show were ones that I started here last summer. I sketched the ideas and then painted them in New York. There's no reason I can't paint here and show my work in The City," Justin defended his decision.

"I'm not an expert in the field, but I would think that it would be a pain to ship all your work for shows," Mel observed.

"Not really. I paint in my studio, and I still have to crate my work to ship it to the gallery for a show. This way it will just have a longer commute to the gallery."

"Where..."

Justin's phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. "I have to take this. I'm sorry," he excused himself and went to the other room for some privacy.

"Hi Sam," Justin answered.

"...Yeah I saw the reviews. Pretty impressive for a show that I had to share with a known artist."

".... No, I'm not getting cocky! Just teasing you. So, what's going on? I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

"...You're shitting me. A commission? When do they want me to paint it?"

"...I'm sorry, Sam. I can't right now. If they could wait a few weeks, I could go."

"... Sam, remember our conversation. Your wife or your career?"

"...If they're willing to wait, I could probably do it after the middle of next month."

"...I know, Sam. But this is important, too. Talk to you next week. By the way, I started some sketches today. I think you're going to love them."

Justin walked back to the table and everyone looked at him. "What?" he asked.

"Who was that? You seemed a little unnerved," Brian asked.

"It was Sam. Someone offered me a commission, but I told him I couldn't do it right now."

"You fucking turned him down. Call him back and accept it," Brian demanded.

"Language," Lindsay reminded him.

"Justin, you will call him back and tell him you can take the job," Brian repeated.

"No, I will not. I told you that I wanted to be here for you right now, and that is where I'm going to be. Now, can we finish dinner? There is nothing more to discuss." Justin picked up his fork and resumed eating his dinner.

"Justin, this is a great opportunity. You shouldn't turn it down. I can help Brian," Lindsay offered.

Justin rolled his eyes and put down his fork. "I'm his partner. I don't need everyone telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I'm a grown man, and can make up my own mind."

No one spoke for the rest of the meal. It was getting late; Brian read Gus a short story and said good night to him shortly after dinner. Brian gave Justin surreptitious glances throughout the story.

When Brian finished Gus's story, Justin said, "We're going home. Thank you for dinner, ladies. Brian, I'll get your wheelchair."

Brian used a combination of his wheelchair and crutches to get into the car. Justin was quiet the entire time. He started the car, and drove back to the loft. He helped Brian out of the car and upstairs. Brian walked to the couch and sat down, his frustration showing.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You don't need to take care of me. I'm fine," Brian yelled.

Justin put the alarm on and went to the kitchen to grab a beer for himself and Brian, then sat in the living room chair. He casually opened the beer and took a long draw before replying. "This isn't open to discussion. I don't tell you how to run Kinnetik, and you shouldn't tell me how to run my business."

"You're just starting out. You should take every opportunity to sell your work." Brian took the beer, opened it and drank half of it.

"I'm not like you. I don't have a time line, and I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm not taking this commission. I may take others, or not, but it's ultimately my choice." Justin finished his beer and stood up. ‘I'm going to bed. I want to get to the studio early tomorrow. Are you coming?"

Brian slid into the wheelchair, following Justin into the bedroom. Justin helped him in the bathroom and they got into bed. Justin turned away from Brian and closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly.

Brian closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep. After several hours, Brian woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. He got in his wheelchair and rolled into the living room, pushing himself up to the liquor cart. He poured himself a drink and quickly downed it. Enjoying the rush of the liquor, he drank another shot. "Damn blond brat," he quietly said under his breath. He grabbed the bottle and drank directly from it. He was soon very drunk.


Justin woke up and found the bed empty. He looked toward the bathroom and saw it was dark. Knowing Brian wouldn't go in there without a light, he glanced around the loft to find him. His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and he was able to make out Brian's silhouette in the living room. He wrapped the sheet around his torso and walked over to him.

"Hey, you okay?" Justin asked sincerely.

"I'm fine," Brian slurred.

Justin's heart sank.

"I don't believe you!" Justin yelled. "The first time you disagree with me, you go and get drunk. Tell me, Brian, does it help? Does getting drunk make the problem go away? Does it make you feel in control? Well, fuck you! I didn't come back to watch you try to kill yourself." Justin didn't wait for Brian to answer. He walked into the bedroom and dressed quickly. "I'll be back in the morning to help you get dressed, but right now I can't stay here."

He left, slamming the loft door. He'd grabbed the keys to the Corvette and drove to Daphne's. Luckily, she had given him a key when he came back from New York, and he used it to let himself in. He slipped into the apartment, leaving a note on the kitchen table, letting Daphne know that he was there. He undressed quickly and went to bed in the spare room, crying himself to sleep.

Brian continued to drink, and polished off another half a bottle before passing out.

"So... that didn't last long?" Vic said as he shook Brian.

"What the fuck are you doing here again?" Brian looked around trying to orient himself.

"I told you that I might be back. It appears my job here isn't quite finished," Vic explained as he pulled up a chair next to the liquor cart. He picked up the empty bottle of Beam, set it down, and then picked up the second bottle, shaking the liquid inside. "Feeling better, Brian?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Justin asked me the same thing," Brian snorted as he answered.

"It means... did getting drunk solve the problem?"

"I don't have a problem. Justin does. Stupid little shit turned down a commission to stay with me."

Vic nodded his head in mock understanding. "I see -- this is Justin's problem. Does drinking until you pass out solve his problem?" Vic observed.

"He doesn't think he has a problem." Brian pinched the bridge of his nose as the beginning of a headache started.

"Let me see if I understand you? You think Justin has a problem, so you got drunk, since he doesn't think he has a problem." Brian's face showed confusion, then dawning realization.

"Shit!" Brian cursed. "He's going to be so pissed." Looking around, he asked, "Where is he?"

Vic looked into Brian's eyes. "He's not here."

"Where did he go? Shit, I fucked up."

"Yep, you fucked up. What are you going to do about it?"

Brian rubbed his hands over his face. "Change. Apologize. Shit, do you think he'll listen?"

"Justin loves you. What do you think?"

"I think... shit; I don't know what I think. I don't want to lose him; I guess that means something," Brian admitted.

"It's a start, but now I have to go. I'm helping you this time, Brian; next time..."

"What do you mean this time?"

"See you later." Vic moved the chair back and Brian watched as Vic returned to his other home.

Brian's body startled, waking up from his slumped position near the liquor cart. He pushed the wheelchair over to the couch, sliding onto the cushions. Grabbing the afghan, he pulled it over himself and fell asleep.

Justin attempted to sleep, but it eluded him. He tossed and turned and replayed the short argument over and over in his head. Damn, Brian! I guess it was too much to hope that he actually not resort to drinking when things don't go his way. I'll go back in the morning and talk to him, or at least try to talk to him. I'm not ready to give up, but... but what? What am I going to do -- do I give him an ultimatum? I can't do that; he'll just say ‘no' to spite me. But, I can't live with him resorting to drinking or drugging every time something isn't to his liking, either. Shit! I'm so fucked. Why did I have to fall in love with a man who is so fucking complicated?

He finally fell into a fitful sleep about five in the morning, but was awakened by his alarm at seven. He got out of bed, dressed quickly, and left, avoiding any conversation with Daphne. He knew he would have to talk to her later, but for now it was one less thing he had to handle.

He drove the ‘Vette back to the loft, wondering what condition Brian would be in when he arrived. He stopped at the corner, grabbed a latte, and drank it on the way to the loft. Opening the door, he glanced around the room, looking for Brian. Spying him on the couch, he left him there and returned to the bedroom to try and sleep a little longer.

Brian woke several hours later to the buzzer. He sat up quickly, feeling the pounding in his head, reminding him of his drinking the night before. He maneuvered himself into his chair and rolled over to the buzzer. He attempted to reach the speaker, but couldn't. He rolled to his crutch, laid it on the arms of his chair and returned to the buzzer. Using his crutch, he pushed the button. "Who is it?" he barked.

"Bri, It's Cynthia. Buzz me up?"

"Shit," Brian muttered. "I got a late start. Go grab some breakfast down the street and give me an hour. I should be ready by then," he explained.

"Okay. See you then."

"Fuck! Shit!" he yelled.

Brian put the crutch on his arm rest again and made his way up the short ramp and into the bathroom. He didn't notice Justin sleeping on the bed. He stood up, used the bathroom, washed his hands and brushed his teeth. He filled the sink up with hot water, thankful that the decorative towel rack was easily accessible. He turned off the water in the sink and was startled by a noise. He turned around to see Justin standing at the toilet.

"Jesus! You scared me to death. Where the fuck did you come from?

"The bedroom. I told you I'd be back," Justin explained as he finished using the bathroom. He looked at the water in the sink and the toiletries. "Let me help you with that. Cynthia should be here any time." Justin grabbed the washcloth, placing it in the water.

"You're too late. She was here fifteen minutes ago. I sent her to get some breakfast; she'll be back," Brian explained.

"Oh."

Brian transferred to the shower chair, and Justin assisted him in taking off the remainder of his clothing. Justin quickly and efficiently washed Brian, and grabbed some clean clothing from the bedroom. He drained the water and put the dirty items in the hamper.

"Want some breakfast?" Justin asked.

"Sure," Brian answered. Maybe he won't ask about last night, forget it ever happened.

"How about a bagel? It will absorb some of the liquor in your system," he said, the disdain evident in his words.

"Toasted, whole wheat, with nothing on it." Brian ordered as if he were in a restaurant. <i>I'm so fucked. He didn't forget.</i>

Justin quietly made the bagel and toasted one for himself. He threw out the latte from earlier and fresh brewed some more. Brian had made it to the table by the time the food was cooked, and Justin brought him his plate. Justin sat at the other end of the table and ate his breakfast as well.

Brian ate a few bites of his bagel, looking at Justin. "What are your plans for today?"

"I want to set up my studio. I know once I start painting, I won't want to stop and do the menial stuff," Justin answered succinctly, no emotion in his voice.

Brian nodded his head. "Maybe this studio will have some semblance of order. How you find anything in your current one, I'll never know."

Justin recognized Brian's attempt to goad him and bring him to the defensive, but didn't take the bait. "I've got to rent some furniture and buy a few canvases. The sketches I've been working on will probably be bigger then anything I currently have on hand. I need to get a car soon so I can get the supplies out of my mom's basement."

"Why don't you take the van? It's not like I'm going to be driving it anywhere today," Brian suggested.

"I could do that. I'll call my mom and see if I can come over." Justin glanced at the clock. "Cynthia should be back in a few minutes. I'm going to shower and get out of here." Justin finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher and started to walk to the bathroom, not stopping to kiss or acknowledge Brian.

<i>He's pissed and he won't bring up last night until I do. Shit, he's going to make me talk. </i>

Justin took a quick shower, and dressed in comfortable jeans and a blue hoody.

The buzzer rang and Justin got up to let Cynthia in. "He's a little hung over this morning, so you might want to take it easy on him," Justin advised as he grabbed his messenger bag and phone, walking out the door.

On his walk to the studio, his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he answered the phone rather than allow it to go to voice mail.

"Hello Daphne," he sighed as he flipped the phone up. He hoped he could avoid this conversation until later, when he'd figured out some things.

"...I stayed last night, but left this morning. Sorry, I didn't have time to strip the bed," he said somewhat guiltily.

"...Long story. We had a fight about me taking a commission and he didn't like my decision, so he got drunk."

"...Yeah, Sam called at dinner last night; someone had offered me a commission. I turned it down. Now's not the right time."

"...Not you, too! Like I told everyone else -- it's my career, and my life, and I need to lead it like I see fit."

"...I wasn't going to talk to him when he was drunk, so I left. This morning I went back to the loft."

"...I may be mad at him, but I still care for him. He needs my help in the morning and I told him I would return."

"...No, I'm not too good for him. Remember when you broke that window in 6th grade? You had to get stitches. Your mom took you to the hospital but she was furious that you disobeyed her and broke the picture window."

"...Sure it is the same thing. He did something I didn't like. I got mad, but that doesn't mean I don't love him anymore and that I'm bailing."

"...No I didn't talk to him, yet."

"...He probably got the message loud and clear. I didn't kiss him at all this morning."

"...Yes, I know he got the message. This is Brian Kinney. Actions speak much louder than words. I'm sure he got my message."

"...I'm not sure what I'm going to say. I just know I'm not going to keep leaving and I'm not going to watch a repeat of the last month. Something has to give."

"...Yeah, I'll need a lot of luck. I'll call you tomorrow. I'm sure we'll talk tonight."

"...I know I can always crash at your place. You're the best Daphne, but this time I think I need to work it out."

"...Love you too. I'm at my new studio. Maybe we can hook up this weekend and you can see it."

He closed his phone and walked into the studio. He spent the day setting up the area as he liked, knowing that once he started painting, he wouldn't want to take the time to do so. Hours later, he walked back to the loft, hoping that maybe Brian would want to talk.

Brian was lying on the couch when Justin returned home.

"You came back," Brian looked up as Justin walked in the door, hanging his coat on the coat rack.

"Why wouldn't I? Unless, you've changed your mind. Should I pack my bags?" Justin asked as a cold chill ran through him.

"You left in a hurry last night and you barely acknowledged me this morning. I wasn't sure," Brian shared his concerns, biting his lip involuntarily.

"I was upset. I couldn't watch you self destruct," Justin replied, the sadness evident in his voice. Justin walked to the kitchen and placed a large cup of water in the microwave.

"Justin," Brian said softly, his voice filled with obvious regret. "Come sit, join me."

"What time did Cynthia leave?" Justin asked as he poured the water in two cups and brought the tea to Brian.

"She left about 2:00. Seems that my little drinking spree last night left me more hungover than I thought. I wasn't very productive, so we took care of a few essentials and planned out the next few weeks. What time is my doctor's appointment Monday? I need to add it to our schedule..."

"You were pretty wasted," Justin commented, hoping that would cue Brian into his desire to talk. He sat down on the edge of the couch, not touching Brian.

"Thanks. It's a little cold in here," Brian remarked. "So, how was your day? Did you get any work done?" <i>Shit, he wants to talk.</i>

Justin put his cup down on the coffee table, staring at Brian. "I don't really think you invited me to sit on the couch with you to talk about my day," Justin challenged, a little irritated at Brian's tactics. He picked up his cup and took a sip of his tea, enjoying the warmth of the liquid.

"Justin," he tentatively began. ‘I'm sorry."

Justin stared at Brian. "What did you say?"

"I said I was sorry. It's your life, and I have no right to tell you what to do."

"Brian..." Justin began.

"Don't. I've been talking to Vic..." Brian started to explain.

Justin eyes bored into Brian. "What did you take after Cynthia left?"

"Nothing. Ever since the accident, Vic has been visiting me in my dreams. Vic and I were always close, probably more of a father to me than my own. Anyway... We've had a lot of talks lately and... well... I was wrong."

"Okay, you were wrong." Justin stood up and walked to the other side of the couch and sat in the chair, closest to Brian. "But that doesn't change the way you handled the situation. Brian, I can't watch you drink your way into oblivion in order to handle your pain. I can't stop your drinking, and I'm not going to tell you not to drink. I just can't watch you get drunk or high every time something doesn't go your way. Do you understand?"

Brian reached for Justin's neck, pulling him closer to him. "Yeah ... I love you, Justin. I don't want to lose you. I will try, but I'll probably screw up."

Justin leaned over, giving Brian a toe-curling kiss. "We're in this together, Brian. I love you too," he whispered as he broke the kiss.

"You staying?" Brian asked again.

Justin grinned. "You're stuck with me. Now let me tell you about my day," he began as he returned to the edge of the couch, placing Brian's legs on his lap. "I spent the day organizing my new studio. Maybe I'll take you there this weekend; it's not too far from here." Justin sipped his tea, enjoying the hot liquid warming his body.

Justin took the mugs back to the kitchen. "Hungry? I could fix us something," he offered.

"Yeah. I am hungry -- I don't think I ate lunch. How about some of Em's crab cakes? Those were good," Brian suggested.

"They're salmon cakes, and sure, we have enough left over. I'll make some salad and heat up some twice-baked potatoes, too. Want some potatoes, or is it too late?"

"Potatoes are fine -- it's not too late." Brian rested on the couch until dinner was ready, then made his way to the table.

"Good. What are you going to do tonight? It's Friday, and I'm sure Babylon has some fabulous contest going on," Brian questioned as he picked up his fork to take a bite of the salmon cakes.

Justin laid his napkin on his lap. "I'm not sure. I could keep you company and sketch here. Tomorrow, maybe I'll go to Babylon and meet the boys." Justin offered.

"I don't need a babysitter, Justin."

"I know, but I like being with you. I missed just hanging out with you. I know most people think that all we do is have sex, but there's always been more to us than that."

Brian smiled. "Speaking of sex..."

Justin licked his lips and returned the grin. "I thought you'd never ask. Last one to the bedroom gets to fuck me," Justin teased.

"Twat. Of course, I'm going to fuck you. Why don't you put the food on warm and meet me in the bedroom?"

Justin turned down the heat and met Brian in the bedroom, where they repeated their escapades from a few days earlier.

Justin woke from his short post-coital nap as his stomach grumbled loudly.

Brian smacked him playfully on the hip. "You may not be a 17 year old twink any more, but your stomach hasn't figured that out yet. I swear you eat more often than anyone I know."

Justin returned the swat to Brian's hip. "I just burn it all up fucking you," he said, tongue in cheek. I guess I'll go finish dinner." Justin got out of bed, slipping on some sweats and a warm hoody. He padded to the kitchen where he dished out their food and set the table.

"You need help in there?" Justin called out.

"No. I'm on my way. Damn, I will be very happy to get out of this cast," Brian lamented as he rolled up to the table. "Smells good. I guess I was really hungry." Brian picked up his fork and took a bite of the salmon cakes. "Honeycutt has definitely found his calling. That man can cook."

Justin ate a bite of the salmon and shook his head in agreement. "Who would think our little Em, the gourmet chef?"

They ate dinner and talked about Justin's new studio. After dinner was over, Justin cleared the table and Brian made his way to the couch.

"Wanna watch a movie? I could rent something," Justin asked as he dried his hands on the dish towel.

"Movies are okay, but I'd love to shoot some pool," Brian stated.

Justin rolled his eyes, but didn't comment.

"Fine -- we never watched Mission Impossible 3. At least it's an action film." Justin joined Brian in the living room and they watched the movie without interruptions. They went to bed where they fell asleep quickly, both men having not slept well the previous night.

Brian woke first on Sunday morning. He turned toward Justin, watching his favorite blond sleeping. I love the quiet of the mornings before the phone rings, the radio blares and people clamor for my attention. It's the most peaceful time of my day and when Justin is with me, I'm at peace. Nobody knows that I watch Justin sleep, his blond hair tousled on the pillow case, his limbs sprawled all over the bed, frequently with his legs on my side of the bed. Funny how people develop their side of the bed. Justin always sleeps by the bathroom. Even when we stayed in his apartment in New York , he was always closest to the bathroom. Probably because I always made him go get the wet cloth to wipe us off. He is so beautiful and I'm so lucky to have him in my life. Maybe one day I will be able to tell him that I'm glad he came back.

Justin turned in his sleep, making noises that Brian recognized as signaling his eminent waking. Brian looked at Justin as he opened his eyes, giving him a crooked smile and leaned down to kiss him. Justin returned the kiss, moving to lie on top of Brian. 

"If you sit on my chest and feed me your cock, I can give you a proper wake up. Unfortunately this damned cast prevents me from truly appreciating your morning wood, but..." Brian teased as he ran his hands up and down Justin's back. 

"I'm game," Justin laughed as he scooted his body up Brian's chest so he could feed him his engorged cock. Brian pulled Justin's buttocks close so he could reach his cock without straining. Sticking out his tongue to lick the long shaft, he licked the slit and sucked on the head, inhaling Justin's smell as he moaned his enthusiasm. Justin scooted his cock as close to Brian's mouth as he could. Supporting his weight on his knees, Justin watched his cock move in and out of Brian's mouth, enjoying the moist, wet heat. I love this man so much. Brian moved his hands, squeezing Justin's ass cheeks as he continued to suck and lick Justin's cock. I could let him do this all day. Shit, I'm going to come. Brian swallowed Justin's juices, licking his lips in appreciation of his high protein snack.


Justin scooted back down Brian's chest so he could kiss Brian. "You taste good," he stated as he licked Brian's lips.

"Twat. You are such a narcissist," Brian teased.

"Takes one to know one," Justin shot back.

Brian smiled. "Are you saying..."

Justin kissed Brian quiet, and then scooted down his body, kissing his chest and abs until he reached Brian's cock, where he reciprocated the morning blow job. I love this man so much. He gives the best blow jobs. Justin felt Brian tense, recognizing his imminent release and used his hand to supplement his mouth. I could let him do this all day. Shit, I'm going to come. After Brian came, Justin kissed his way up Brian's torso again, lying on top of Brian with his head resting in the crook of Brian's neck. 

"Good morning," Justin said as he nuzzled into Brian's warm neck.

"Back at you," Brian said. "As much as I enjoy you on top of me, my bladder is going to burst so I suggest you get off and help me out of bed," Brian announced. 

Justin rolled off Brian, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before getting out of bed and bringing the wheelchair to the edge. Brian quickly got in the wheelchair and wheeled himself to the bathroom where he grabbed his crutches. While he completed his morning ritual, Justin brought the shower chair and other bath supplies to the area so he could clean Brian and help him get dressed. 

"Hopefully after tomorrow, I'll be able to take a shower. Think I can fuck you in the shower, Justin?" Brian leered as he eyed Justin's cock.

"We should probably wait until you get your cast off for a shower fuck. The last thing you need is to fall down again. You may be able to put weight on it, but you shouldn't stay in the shower very long since the cast still can't get wet. Besides, sex in the shower requires a lot of bending and maneuvering, and I think it would be hard to do with a cast on your leg," Justin explained in his public service announcement voice.

"You are such a pragmatist at times. Don't you have any sense of adventure?" Brian teased as helped Justin pull down his shirt. 

"Yeah, me the spoiled sport. Funny how I don't relish the idea of you in a cast for six months instead of just two," Justin smarted back. "Now will you be still so I can get your pants on." 

Brian cooperated with Justin to finish his morning routine. "Go take your shower. I'll be reading in the living room. No need to make breakfast before you get clean. I can wait to eat," he instructed as he gestured toward the shower.

"Thanks. I'll be quick, I promise," Justin replied as he leaned down and kissed Brian on the cheek. 

Justin finished his morning routine and went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

"What are your plans today?" Brian asked as he watched Justin get out the bowl for eggs.

"I told Daphne that I would stop by, but I should be back by 4:00. I know we have to be at Deb's at 6:30. That should give me plenty of time to throw some laundry in and clean up a bit."

Brian winced at the mention of Daphne. "So the other night... did you go to Daphne's?"

"Yeah. She called the next morning and we talked a little, but I haven't talked to her since," Justin explained as he cracked the eggs on the side of the bowl. "I know you don't like it when I talk about us, but she's my best friend and--"

"No apologies, Justin. Go make nice with Daphne and try to convince her I'm not the hopeless drunk she thinks I am," Brian said, tongue-in-cheek.

Justin opened his mouth to respond, but Brian put his hand up, stopping him from speaking. 

"Like I said, Justin, I'm probably going to screw up but I want you here. I get it, okay. Managing my pain with alcohol and drugs is not a good thing."

If only his words matched his actions. I'm such a shit. I always complain that he doesn't say what he thinks and feels and now that he says what I want to hear, I'm not sure he really will do what he says, Justin mused.

Justin washed the egg off his hands and walked over to where Brian was sitting in his wheelchair. He leaned over and kissed him with an open-mouthed kiss. He pulled back from the kiss and stood up. "Thank you. I know the words are hard for you," Justin said softly. 

"Have you put the toast up yet? I'm really getting hungry here," Brian said, effectively changing the subject at hand.

"Not yet. I want to get the eggs in the frying pan and cook a little before I put the toast on. That way the toast doesn't get cold," he answered, recognizing Brian's tactic to change the subject. "It will all be done in five minutes. Why don't you wheel yourself to the table?"

While Justin finished making the breakfast, Brian wheeled himself to the table. Justin served the two plates of eggs, toast, and poured Brian his Guava juice. Justin picked up the strawberry jam and spread some on his toast. "What are your plans for today? Are you going to take it easy?"

Brian shook his head and pointed to his home office area. "I've still got a lot of work on the Liberty Air account to finish. My little ‘hangover' really put me behind. And with me not being in the office on Monday morning... Well, I've got some work to complete."

"So you're planning on going to the office after your appointment?" Justin asked as he salted his eggs.

"Justin, I'm going to the doctor tomorrow, and hopefully he will put me in a walking cast. After that, I can take that long awaited shower and really wash my hair. Of course, that means I can return to Kinnetik. I need to be able to work a full day," Brian reminded him.

Justin knew better then to argue with him. He had learned long ago that Brian's body would work with him or it wouldn't, and it was a far stronger taskmaster then Justin could ever be.

"Okay," Justin said and then he ate the remainder of his breakfast. He cleared the table and placed the dishes in the dishwasher. 

"I'm off to Daphne's and to the grocery. We need some milk and fruit. Everyone brings us packages of food, but not the essentials like bread, milk, and fruit. Is there anything you want from the store?"

"Apples and Guava juice. Maybe pick up some snacks for Gus. I hope Lindsey will bring him by after I'm able to get around better." 

"No problem. If you think of anything else, just call and tell me." Justin leaned down and kissed Brian and then left the apartment.

Justin jangled the keys to the ‘Vette in his pocket. Brian has come a long way. Before, he would never have even considered letting me use the ‘Vette. He unlocked the car and got in the driver's seat. After putting on his seatbelt, he put the key in the ignition and carefully backed the car out of the garage. He was thankful that the snow from earlier in the week was now just piles of grey slush on the streets. He pushed the buttons on the radio, seeking some good music but all he could find was rap, and he wasn't in the mood for it. He drove to Daphne's in silence, thinking about the upcoming visit.

He parked the ‘Vette in the lot of her apartment building and made sure the alarm was set. After the break in at Brian's loft, when he forgot to set the alarm, he always checked twice to make sure any alarms were set. He stopped at the corner store and picked up a bag of Pistachio nuts for the two of them to share. He found confession was always easier if you had something to occupy your hands.

He knocked on Daphne's door and heard her call "Come in" through the thin veneer. She greeted him with a big hug as he entered the apartment. 

"You sure Brian is okay?" she questioned as she grabbed the nuts from Justin's hands.

"He's fine, Daphne. It's not like he's on his death bed. He just has a broken leg. He's made remarkable progress in getting around the loft," Justin defended as he sat cross-legged on the couch.

"So what's it like taking care of Brian? I bet he's a real bear," Daphne questioned.

"I don't do much. I help him get clean in the morning and then help him get dressed and I cook. But I cooked before the accident. Brian has never enjoyed the kitchen. For someone who has the most beautiful kitchen, state-of-the-art appliances, and every gadget known to man, it seems strange that he doesn't ever go in there except to grab a beer or poppers from the fridge," Justin relayed. He went into the kitchen to grab a large bowl to put their nut shells in. Placing it on the coffee table, he grabbed a handful of nuts and started shelling them, leaving the refuse in the bowl.

Daphne picked up a handful of nuts and started to shell them as well. "So tell me about this commission and why you aren't going to take it," she demanded as she popped a nut in her mouth.

"Sam called and told me that someone who attended the show really liked my work and wanted me to paint a picture for their office. Seems the guy has been looking for an artist's work to use in his new office and hadn't found anyone," Justin explained as he popped a few nuts into his mouth.

Daphne bounced on the sofa in excitement. "Oh my God! That is so exciting. I can't believe you turned it down. Couldn't you go up there, talk to him and paint it here?" she asked.

Justin shook his head. "No, I would have taken the job if it were that easy. According to Sam, he wanted me to paint it on the wall in his office. I couldn't do that."

"I see. So what happened with Brian? How does it all fit together?" Daphne furrowed her brow as she tried to understand how the commission fit in with Brian's drinking binge. She went to the kitchen, grabbing sodas from the fridge, and handing one to Justin as she popped the top on her own.

Justin placed the soda on the coaster and then paced the small apartment several times before answering. "He got mad that I didn't take the commission and felt he could bully me into doing it. When he didn't get his way, he got drunk. Pain management at its finest." Justin stared out the window in the living room, not looking at Daphne.

"So what happened?"

"He told me he was sorry," Justin admitted, turning around to look at Daphne. "He's never said he was sorry in all the time I've known him. He said he'll try not to use alcohol and drugs to numb his pain." Justin smiled a weak smile as he said the last statement.

"Do you really think so, Jus?" Daphne questioned her friend's answer.

"No. I think..." Justin walked back to the couch, sitting heavily on the furniture. "He doesn't say things to placate anyone, but I know he's had a lifetime of numbing his pain with booze and drugs. It's going to take more than one ‘I'm sorry' to change."

"What are you going to do if he gets drunk again?" Daphne asked, reaching out to hold Justin's hand as she supported her best friend.

"I'm sure he'll drink again and do drugs, but I'm not worried about that. It's the drugs and booze he uses when he doesn't want to face a situation that bothers me. I can't leave him, Daph. I just can't. If I threaten him with leaving, he'll tell me to go. If I stay and he continues to handle his problems by getting drunk or drugged or both, I don't think I can stay and watch him. I'm so screwed," Justin sighed as he sat back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears from leaving his eyes.

Daphne leaned over, hugging him tightly. "Maybe he's learned his lesson, Justin."
She attempted to comfort him.

Justin allowed himself to be hugged, enjoying the human touch of his friend. When Daphne let him go, he wiped his eyes, getting rid of the moisture there.

"I just have to have faith, Daph. He's been there for me and I'll be there for him. That's what partners do."

"Tell me about your new studio. Where is it? How big is it? When can I come and visit?" Daphne rattled off the questions.

Justin went to the bathroom to wash his face and returned with an attempt at his famous smile plastered on his face. "It's really close to the loft and the diner. In fact, it's only a few streets down from Kinnetik. I can visit Brian during his lunch hour." Justin smiled mischievously. "It's in an old warehouse. Mom said the owner is trying to renovate the building and put condos in the top part and small shops on the bottom. I have a space in the back of the building--don't want anyone looking at me when I paint, nor do I want my paintings to disappear in the middle of the night. Since it is an old warehouse, there are lots of windows. They used them for ventilation. I'll have good light from mid-morning to late afternoon. Since I'm not exactly a morning person, it's perfect." 

Daphne nodded her head as she listened to Justin describe his new space. "I can't wait to see it," she admitted. "Just think, you're a famous painter in Pittsburgh and I have "ins" with you. All my friends at work will be jealous," she proclaimed, tongue-in-cheek.

Justin laughed. "I'm not famous yet, but maybe one day... Monday, I'm taking Brian to the doctor and I'll be busy. Why don't you come on Tuesday?" he suggested.

"I guess I could go in to work a little late. I've been working on this big presentation and my boss kind of suggested I take some time off. Doesn't want me to get burned out. I'll let her know Monday that I'll be in late on Tuesday. Maybe we can go to the diner for breakfast. Just like old times," she reminisced as she picked up some Pistachio's to crack. 

"Sounds great. I'll call you Monday night and confirm. Hopefully Brian will have a walking cast and will be able to go to Kinnetik. I'll still have to drive him, but that's okay."

Daphne drank some of her soda, washing down the nuts. "Speaking of driving, can he get in the ‘Vette? I'd think that would be really hard," Daphne observed.

"We rented a van for a few weeks. I can put his wheelchair and the portable ramp in it and it's a lot easier for Brian to get in and out," Justin explained. He popped the top of his soda and took a drink as well. He reached in his pocket and took out a key chain, dangling the single key in front of Daphne. "But..." he smiled a huge grin. "I've been driving the ‘Vette." 

"No...!" Daphne exclaimed. "He lets you drive his ‘Vette. Oh my God! Brian Kinney is a ‘changed' man'." Daphne grabbed for the coveted key chain, holding it in her hand as she admired it as if it were made of a precious stone. "You didn't tell me he hit his head when he fell," she teased.

Justin grabbed the key chain back, stuffing it in his pocket. "He didn't hit his head," he admonished. "It was just more practical for me to drive than riding on the bus."

Daphne nodded in pretend acceptance of the explanation. "Why aren't you driving the van?"

Justin shook his head and mock raised his eyebrows. "I had to leave the van there. In case there was an emergency and someone had to take him somewhere. Duhh."

"I see."

Justin glanced at the VCR, looking at the clock. "Look, I have to go. We're going to Debbie's tonight and I need to do a few things at the loft before we leave."

Daphne gathered up the bowl, the nuts and the sodas, bringing them to the kitchen. "Call me tomorrow night and we'll finalize things. I can't wait to see your new place. Things sure have changed in the last month." She hugged him tight and handed him his coat and scarf. 

"Talk to you later, Daph. Thanks for listening," Justin said as he put on his coat, then the scarf.

"That's what best friends are for," she replied as she mocked punched him on the arm. She walked him to the door, and closed and locked at as he returned to the street.    

Justin drove home from Daphne's, glad that he had an opportunity to visit his friend. It was really nice that she didn't lecture me about taking the commission. I wish everyone would be so supportive. Of course, she has said a few words about me returning to Brian, but it's only because she doesn't want to see me hurt.

Even though it was Sunday, the streets were still busy. Justin decided that it must be the break in the bad weather. They had snow on the ground for most of the week and now the streets were clear. Everyone must be getting cabin fever. I know Brian has cabin fever. While he's had lots of time to stay in and work, I think he really missed everyone. This will be a great chance to get out.

He parked the car in the garage on Tremont, locking it for safety. 

He entered the loft. "I'm back. Did you miss me?" he called out in a teasing manner as he hung up his coat and scarf on the coat rack.

Brian looked up from his reading. "Oh, were you gone?" he teased. Smiling, he continued. "It was nice and quiet, so I got a lot done. When I go into the office tomorrow, I can hand the art department my boards and have them correct them. I also had an opportunity to catch up on my emails. So, yes, I had a productive day."

"Good. Why don't you relax for a bit and I'm going to throw in some laundry."

"Justin that is why I have a cleaning service. You don't need to wash anything. Why don't you come over here and show me how much you've missed me," Brian suggested as he leered at Justin in his baggy cargoes.

"Well, if you insist," Justin answered in a playful tone. He practically bounced over to the couch, jumping on the cushions. 

"If you break my couch..." Brian warned.

"Ohhh. Do I get a spanking?" Justin teased.

"Scoot over. I can't sit down with you sprawling over the entire area," Brian directed as he wheeled himself to the couch. He transferred to the couch and then Justin moved next to him. 

"So what do you have in mind?" Justin asked as he placed small kisses on Brian's neck. 

Brian leaned into the kisses and raised his chin, allowing Justin easy access to his neck. Justin loved kissing Brian's neck; its smooth skin was different than the other skin on Brian's body. It had a distinct scent as well, combining Brian's aftershave and his cologne. Justin inhaled the familiar smell. Home. Brian. He ran his tongue over Brian's Adam's apple, feeling the ridges of the tissue. Brian lifted Justin's mouth to his own, opening wide, engulfing his tongue and lips. They kissed, exchanging silent words that only they understood. Brian moved his mouth away from Justin's, kissing his lips, cheeks and eyelids with soft, gentle feather kisses. Justin hugged him tighter as they each took turns being the leader in their impromptu session. 

Justin's hand found its way to Brian's crotch, rubbing the cloth over his obvious erection. Without missing a beat, he eased down Brian's zipper, and then pulled out his cock from his underwear. Running his hand up and down the shaft, he enjoyed the feel of the soft flesh surrounding the engorged cock. He slid his fingers over the moist slit, feeling the precum lubricating it. Brian leaned into Justin's touch, arching his hips to meet Justin's strokes. Justin continued for a few strokes, stopped and looked at Brian. Brian nodded his head yes and Justin stood up, locating the lube and a condom. Quickly, he opened the condom packet, placing the latex on Brian. He undressed quickly, dropping his pants and underwear on the floor in front of the couch. Squirting some lube on his fingers, he reached back and fingered his hole. The look of lust on Brian's face resulted in Justin opening his legs wider and easing several fingers in, effectively stretching the tight opening very quickly. When he felt he was ready, he straddled Brian who was sitting sideways on the couch, his back propped up against the arm of the couch and his legs forward on the cushions, preventing a strain on the broken one. Justin's leg was pushed deep into the back of the couch, but he was oblivious to the tight fit. Easing himself on top of Brian's cock, he groaned at the fullness in his ass. "Mmm, so nice," he said, gasping. He slowly raised his legs and lowered them, allowing Brian's cock to guide smoothly in the tight channel. Brian reached out, grabbing Justin's erection, fingering it and pumping it slowly. He played with the head, smearing the precum around the sensitive tip. Justin continued to raise and lower himself on Brian's cock. 

"Come for me," Brian urged.

Justin smiled at the request and sped up his movements. His head titled back, signaling his impending orgasm. Brian increased his strokes and soon felt the warm heat of Justin's come run over his fingers. The smell of Justin's come and the increase of friction on his own cock made him shoot into the condom as well. Justin leaned down, kissing Brian fervently on the lips and he reciprocated.

"Go get something to clean us up. I don't want to ruin my couch," Brian demanded as he waved his fingers in front of Justin.

Justin got up, disposed of the condom and went to the bathroom to get a wet towel. After cleaning them both up, he said, "I guess you want me to wash you again or do you want to go to Deb's like that?"

"Shit, I forgot. Can't we just call them and tell them I'm too tired," Brian suggested.

"No, it's really not an option. You know how Debbie is? Besides, Melanie and Lindsay will be bringing Gus."

"Okay. Why don't we do a quick wash? As much as I love smelling Eau de Justin, 
I'm not sure how everyone else will feel. Besides, I don't want them to know how great you smell," he said tongue-in-cheek.

Brian made his way to the bathroom where Justin helped him take a quick sponge bath and get redressed into clean clothing. Justin took a quick shower too and dressed in record time.

"Glad I didn't stay at Daphne's any longer or we would have been late," he remarked as he gathered the small ramp and reached for the keys to the van.

"I'll meet you downstairs," Justin said as he rode the elevator down and took the ramp to the van. After loading the ramp, he pulled up to the back entrance where Brian was waiting. Brian got in the van and Justin loaded his wheelchair. Wow--this seems to be like second nature and I've only done it a few times. Really glad this isn't permanent. I don't think Brian would be happy always being taken care of.

They arrived at Debbie's, and all the gang's cars were already parked in front of the house. They were the last to arrive, but Justin noted that it was only a few minutes after 6:30. He went to the back of the van, getting out the wheelchair and bringing it to Brian's side of the car. While Brian was getting out, he got the ramp out of the back and took it up to the front steps. Luckily, everyone seemed to have the same few steps and the portable ramp worked for the places they had needed to go. He was glad that Brian could walk on crutches once inside. No one's house was really accessible for his wheelchair and he would have been really limited. 

As usual, Brian had laid the crutches over the arm rest, so when he got to the porch, he got out of the wheelchair and used the crutches to walk in. Justin pushed the wheelchair inside and left it by the door, out of everyone's way.

"They have arrived. ‘Bout time," Debbie yelled from the kitchen. "Brian, can you sit at the table or do you need to eat at the couch?" Debbie asked as she brought the pitcher of water to the table.

"Dada can sit at the table. He ate at our table when he came to dinner on Thursday," Gus announced.

Deb looked at Brian for confirmation and he shook his head ‘yes'. "Good. Gus, are you going to sit by your dad or your moms?" 

"I can sit by my moms anytime. I'm sitting by Dada and Justin. Do we have time to draw today, Justin? You promised we would draw," Gus reminded Justin with an eager look in his eyes.

Justin bent down and kissed Gus on the cheek. He stayed at eye level with the little boy as he explained, "Not tonight, Gus. I promise I will come over one day after school and help you draw. You have school tomorrow, so we won't have time tonight."

Gus frowned, but shook his head, "Okay. But you promise, right?"

"I promise. Now it's getting late and I know you are very hungry," Justin said as he hugged Gus and pulled out his seat. 

Brian walked to the table and laid his crutches against the edge of the table. Everyone sat down and the plates of food made their way around the table. 

Small conversations were occurring around the table as there were too many people to talk together. Debbie sat next to Justin's other side. After assuring herself that everyone had what they needed, she turned toward him.

"Brian looks good. He's in better spirits than I thought he'd be. You're really a good influence on him, Sunshine."

"Thanks, Deb. I can't take all the credit. I think a big part of it is that he's home, in the loft, and not in the hospital. He didn't really have a lot of control in the hospital and you know what a control freak he is?"

"Yeah, Brian definitely needs to be in charge. He has to have everything in order. He was always fixing things for Michael, making his life easier. I remember when Michael was bullied in school, Brian always stood up for him. He's like that you know. Helping those he cares about. It's something most people don't know."

"I always knew he cared about Michael, but I never knew about the bullying. You know how Brian is, never likes to talk about himself," Justin commented as he tore off a small piece of garlic bread. 

Debbie took a sip of water and then speared some lettuce on her plate. "Brian will never toot his own horn, but I know about him. It's funny because he knows I know and is proud that I know how he really is. He puts on such a false face for most people, but he really is a softie underneath," Debbie remarked casually. "Of course, Justin, you probably know him better than any of us."

Justin nodded his agreement with Deb's assessment. Brian doesn't like when people talk about him and he will deny ever doing anything for anyone. Heaven forbid he be accused of caring. I know that Brian does a lot for his family, he just doesn't like to boast about it.

"I see those wheels turning, Justin. What's going on in that head of yours? I know you're really smart, otherwise you would never be sitting at this table seven years after Brian fucked you," Debbie said in a louder voice and everyone at the table stopped talking and turned their head towards her.

"Language," Lindsey and Melanie both said together.

"Sorry. Go on, don't pay any attention to me. Justin and I are just talking," Debbie commanded and everyone returned to their previous conversations.

"You're pretty amazing, Deb," Justin remarked. "Everyone just listens and goes back to their conversations. I wish I could get people to do that."

"It comes with years of practice and not being afraid of what people think. I believe Brian has the right idea when he says to hell with what people think. No one needs to answer to your actions but yourself."

"I wish everyone felt that way, Deb," Justin lamented as he remembered the discussion at Melanie's and Lindsay's.

Deb heard the tone of Justin's words and turned toward him. "Give, Sunshine. What happened?"

"It's nothing," Justin attempted to downplay his earlier statement.

"Bullshit. Talk to me, Justin."

"Well... the other night when we were at Mel's and Linds', I got a call from Sam. He's my agent. Anyway, some guy wanted to hire me to paint a piece for his office and I turned it down."

"You turned it down. Why the fuck did you do that?" She said loudly and everyone turned toward the two of them.

Since Brian was next to Justin, he had been listening to the conversation. "Leave him alone, Deb. It's his choice," Brian directed. 

Everyone stared at Brian, shocked at his statement.

"Brian, I thought you said..." Lindsay began.

"Lindsay, I said leave him alone. It's his life and I respect it. He doesn't tell me how to run Kinnetik and I don't tell him how to sell his art. Now, can we all talk about something else? I'm getting a headache," Brian said with emphasis on the reference to Kinnetik.

Justin beamed his famous smile at Brian and Brian shrugged, continuing to eat his salad. 

Debbie smiled and reached under the table to pat Justin's knee. "Good for you, kid. I'm proud of you. Don't understand you, but I'm proud." She finished the last of her pasta and looked around the table. "Who wants dessert? I've got Chocolate Mousse and Cherry Pie," she announced.

Everyone finished dinner and helped Debbie with the dishes and putting the tables back to their normal arrangement. Brian read Gus a short story while everyone else helped Debbie. Lindsay came over to the pair and motioned for Gus to come with her.

"Say ‘good night' to Dada, Gus. It's time to go home."

"I want to stay and play with Dada," Gus whined.

"It's time for you to leave now. School's tomorrow, but I'll come by next week to see you" Brian reminded him.

"Promise?" Gus asked with a sad look on his face.

"Have your mom call Justin. He has to drive," Brian responded and looked at Lindsay to convey the silent message.

"I'll be sure to call Justin." She leaned down and kissed Brian on the cheek. She went to the kitchen where Mel was putting on JR's coat. She kissed Deb goodbye and thanked her for the meal. Picking up Gus's coat from the pile in the living room, she handed it to him and watched as he zipped up and put on his scarf and mittens. She put on her cold weather gear and they left Debbie's.

Justin sat down on the couch, leaned into Brian's side and whispered in his ear, "Ready to go?"

"Why don't you get my chair? It's too much trouble to get the crutches to walk that short distance and then go back to the chair to get to the van," he directed. "And bring me my coat. It's much easier to put it on now than when I'm in my chair.

Justin brought Brian his chair and coat, and then went to the kitchen, kissing Deb goodbye and thanking her for the dinner.

"Take care of yourself, Sunshine. You too, Brian," she yelled into the living room. "I've got some leftovers all packed for you guys. Here you are." She handed Justin a large bag filled with containers of food.

"Thanks, Deb. You didn't have to."

"Now go. That food needs to be in the refrigerator," she directed.

Brian put on his coat and got in his chair, draping his crutches over the arm rest and made his way to the door. Justin put on his coat and walked behind Brian as he wheeled himself to the van. Brian got in the van and Justin placed the portable ramp and the wheelchair in back and drove home.

It was only 9:00 when they returned, too early to go to bed.

"Want to watch a movie? It's early." Justin said as he put the food in the freezer.

"No; what about another game of Scrabble?" Brian suggested.

"Sure."

They played Scrabble again, and this time Brian won the most. "I guess I haven't lost my touch. Lindsay and I used to play all the time in college," Brian boasted. "Maybe we could get the munchers here one night for a tournament."

Justin smiled at Brian's playfulness. "Sounds like fun. Next time I visit Gus, I'll mention it. 

Brian put the small tiles in the drawstring bag while Justin took their mugs to the kitchen. "By the way, you never talked about last night. Did you have fun with the boys?" 

"Sure, it was Babylon. Loud music, hot guys, and drinks - what isn't to like?" Justin answered as he put detergent into the dishwasher. He grabbed a beer and yelled, "Want one?"

"Yeah, sounds good. So, did you fuck any hot guys?" Brian asked, nonchalantly.

"No. I was propositioned at least a dozen times, but I turned them down," Justin admitted. He sat down on the edge of the couch, placing Brian's cast in his lap. He handed Brian his beer.

"What'd you do that for? The back room is great at Babylon." Brian twisted the top on his beer and took a draw from it. 

"I didn't want to. I tried explaining to Michael that I go to Babylon to dance and have fun. I don't need to trick to have a good time. Besides, I can have sex anytime I want right here in the loft."

Brian was quiet for a few minutes while he thought about Justin's words. "Do you want monogamy, Justin?"

Justin took a long draw from his beer before answering. "Brian, I want you. You trick; I think I finally understand that your tricking has nothing to do with me, or your love for me. I can ask you to not use drugs and alcohol to manage your pain, but I won't ask you to stop tricking." Justin played with the label on his bottle, picking at the wet paper.

"I haven't tricked in over five weeks, and it hasn't killed me," Brian offered.

Justin smiled at Brian's attempt at levity. "You've been in the hospital for a month of that time, and since you've been home, getting out on your own has been a little difficult."

Brian was quiet for a few moments. "I'm just saying that I haven't felt the need to trick in five weeks. Maybe I don't want to," Brian offered.

Justin looked at Brian, saw the sincerity in his face. "Let's not decide anything right now." He yawned and looked at the clock on the DVR. "It's late, and you have an early doctor's appointment. We should go to bed."

"Since you didn't visit the backroom last night, I'm sure you're eager to get your cock sucked. Hmmm?" Brian raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"Sounds like a great idea to me."    

As the alarm went off, Justin stretched, feeling the familiar ache in his ass from several rounds of sex with Brian. "Do you want me to help you get cleaned up now or later?" He sniffed Brian and smiled. "You smell great to me--I love the smell of us the morning after, but the doctor may not appreciate it."

"Screw him. If he had your ass available to him, he'd smell of sex, too," Brian snarked. He kissed Justin on the mouth and swatted his thigh. "Better give me a sponge bath; if I get that walking cast then I'll get to have real shower," Brian suggested.

Justin gave Brian the sponge bath, stopping to provide him with a quick blow job. "I'm going to take a shower now, but I can always take another one later."

After eating breakfast, Justin brought the van to the back of the building and loaded the wheelchair after Brian got in the back seat. The drive to the doctor was longer than either man anticipated because of an accident, but they had left the loft in plenty of time.

After the assistant took x-rays, they waited anxiously in the exam room for the doctor to give an update on Brian's leg. "Mr. Kinney, it appears that your leg is healing nicely. I think it is safe for you to have a walking cast at this point, so I'll have my assistant recast it. You will still need to wrap it when showering to prevent moisture from soaking the padding. While it is a walking cast, you will feel pressure when you put your weight on it. Be sure not to stand for longer than fifteen to twenty minutes at a time. Your leg will heal a lot quicker if you don't put a lot of weight on it, so the less you walk, the quicker it will heal, and the less pain you will feel." The doctor gave Brian a brochure about caring for a walking cast. "Make an appointment for three weeks and we'll check the leg again."

After the doctor left, Justin went to the exam table, giving Brian a hard kiss on the lips. Brian reciprocated, but they pulled apart when they heard a knock on the door. The medical assistant came in to cut off Brian's old cast and put on a new one. The new cast had a heel on it so Brian could put weight on the leg. The medical assistant demonstrated the correct technique for walking with a cast and crutches. Brian had to wait for thirty minutes for the fiberglass to set before leaving the doctor's office. Justin gave Brian his crutches and they left the building.

"Where do you want to go now? It's only 10:30." Justin asked.

"Let's go by Kinnetik. I promise not to work, but I want to stop and see Cynthia about a few things."

Justin had expected that Brian would want to go by Kinnetik, and had brought some sketches with him so he could work while Brian took care of business. After two hours, Justin recognized the signs of fatigue on Brian's face. "Let's go to the diner for something to eat. If you want to come back after lunch, we can," Justin suggested.

"I thought I heard the familiar growl of your stomach all the way from the art department," Brian teased. He reached for his crutches and easily maneuvered himself to the car. "Is it okay that we drive?" he asked.

"I figured we would," Justin answered. "I think Deb's working today. She'll be happy to see you."

They drove to the diner and Justin let Brian off at the curb, and then parked the car. Brian went in and grabbed their normal booth. "Brian!" Debbie yelled as she made her way quickly to the booth. "What are you doing here? Where's Sunshine?"

"I'm right here, Deb," Justin answered as he made his way to the booth.

Deb turned around and hugged him tight. "What brings you out to the diner?"

"To eat. Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to take our order?" Brian asked, tongue in cheek.

"Some things don't ever change," Debbie commented as she took out her pad and pen. "It's so good to see you two out and about. You've done a good job, Sunshine--he looks great."

"Right here, Deb? I may have a cast on my leg, but I hear just fine," Brian reminded her.

Debbie kissed Brian, and then smoothed the lipstick away. "Of course you do. What'll it be?"

"I'll have a chef's salad, ranch dressing on the side."

"I'll have a cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate shake," Justin ordered.

"Coming right up. I'm so glad to see you, Brian."

Their food arrived quickly and they ate. "Are you going back to work after lunch?" Justin asked as he poured ketchup on his plate.

"I think I'm done for the day. Why don't we go by your new studio and then head home. I hear the shower calling my name."

Justin's cock filled with blood at the mention of a shower with Brian. "Sure, sounds like a plan," Justin agreed. He dipped his fries in ketchup and noticed that Brian was eating quite a few off of his plate. He didn't bother to call him on it, either.

They finished their lunch and paid for their food, leaving a big tip, as usual.

Justin drove them to his new studio, parked the car and they walked to the studio. He opened the door, walking into the small entry way of the building. A large package was sitting by the mail slots and his name was on one of them.

"Good. My new supplies must be in," Justin stated as he picked up the box and brought it into the studio. As he was moving the box, he looked at the label and saw that it was not from the store where he usually ordered supplies, and the return label was a local art store.

"That's weird. I don't remember ordering anything from Art Mart, but it clearly has my name and address," Justin frowned as he looked at the box.

"Just open it," Brian suggested.

Justin grabbed a pair of scissors from the counter, cutting the tape. Inside, he found a large assortment of paints and new brushes. On top was a short note.

I'm glad you're following your dream. Brian

Justin read the note, smiled a mega watt smile and turned toward Brian as he wrapped his arms around his neck and gave him several kisses around his mouth and face.

"Thank you. I promise I won't disappoint you," Justin said after he finished kissing Brian.

"Justin, it's your dream. You encouraged me to open Kinnetik and now it's my turn to encourage your dreams. I know you'll go far. You're very talented," Brian stated as if his gift wasn't very important. "Now are you going to show me the place so we can get home. I'm feeling really dirty," he teased.

Justin kissed Brian again on his lips, but didn't linger. "Sure. Yeah." He gave a quick tour of the space. "Let's get clean," Justin said as he pointed out the bathroom.

"Shower doesn't look very big, I'd suggest we go back to the loft," Brian remarked.

Justin laughed. "I don't even have towels yet and besides this shower is way too small for us to have sex. It's only good for actual bathing."

They closed the studio door and locked up. Justin drove back to the loft, but Brian still used the back entrance. "I can do stairs but I think it would be less hassle to walk up the ramp," he explained.

As they waited for the elevator, they kissed, open-mouthed, oblivious to the rattling of the lift. As they entered the elevator, Brian leaned against the wall for support as he kissed Justin, running his hand up and down his lower spine. Justin leaned into Brian's caress, returning the kiss of his lover. Both were somewhat surprised when the elevator stopped and they felt the slight jerk. They exited quickly; Justin unlocked the door and disarmed the alarm. He slid open the door to the loft, allowing Brian to walk in. "I need to lock the door, and then I'm all yours."

Brian met him in the bedroom. "Unfortunately, even with the walking cast, I still need a crutch to put most of my weight on. You'll have to do most of the undressing." Brian maneuvered himself to the bed and sat down. He removed his shirt while he watched Justin strip down to his underwear. Justin moved to the bed and helped Brian remove his pants and underwear, and then Brian yanked off Justin's underwear. They lay on the bed, Brian on the bottom and Justin on top. "I thought we were going to take a shower," Brian commented, as he swatted Justin's ass.

"Oh, yeah. Well, I couldn't wait for the shower--had to feel you." Justin ground his cock into Brian's. "But if you insist...let me go start the water." Justin kissed Brian hard on the lips before getting up. He quickly wrapped Brian's leg with saran wrap, and then placed the shower chair in the shower and turned on the water. "Water's ready," he announced.

Brian made his way to the shower and was able to carefully put weight on his leg as he made his way over the lip in the shower stall, sitting on the shower chair. Justin placed Brian's crutches in easy reach of the door, and walked into the shower to join Brian. He grabbed the soap, sudsing Brian's back and arms. He leaned over, kissing the just-washed areas, running his hands over the strong biceps. Next, he poured Brian's shampoo into his palm and washed his hair. Brian moaned at the sensation.

"You have magic fingers, Justin. No one washes my hair like you," Brian said as he leaned his head into Justin's touch.

Justin grabbed the shower hose off the hook at the back of the shower and rinsed Brian's hair, making sure that the soap didn't get in his eyes. He hung the nozzle back up and moved to Brian's front side. He twirled the soap in his hands, making a good amount of suds, then washed Brian's chest. After rinsing, he gently kissed Brian's nipples, sucking on them until they were hard.

"Mmm," Brian murmured.

Justin took his nipples between his forefinger and thumb, pinching the sensitive flesh. He kissed Brian, sucking his tongue into his mouth. Brian returned the kiss, but after a few minutes Justin stood up.

He picked up the soap, sudsing his hands and washing Brian's thigh and lower leg. Brian moved his casted leg to the side, away from the water. Squatting on the floor of the shower, Justin kissed up Brian's leg, gently running his hands up the wet flesh. When he reached his cock, Justin soaped it from tip to balls, watching as it grew in length.

Brian scooted to the edge of the chair, allowing Justin easy access to his cock. After sudsing it, Justin rinsed it off, and then engulfed it with his mouth. Sucking and licking the tender flesh, he savored the hard length.

Brian ran his fingers through Justin's wet hair, gently pushing down, encouraging Justin's movements. He pushed his cock into Justin's mouth, moving it in and out as best he could.

"AGGH, Justinnnn," he yelled as he quickly shot his load down Justin's throat. Still hard, Brian pulled Justin up for a kiss.

"Now that's a shower, Justin. Why don't you turn around and I'll fuck you," Brian suggested.

"You think you can do that with your cast?" Justin asked as he felt his cock leaking at the thought of Brian inside him.

"Worth a try. Now, where's the lube and condom?"

Justin handed Brian the supplies and Brian prepared him, putting the condom on his rock-hard cock. Brian lined his cock up with Justin's hole, but he wasn't able to maneuver to fuck him in the narrow chair. "Damn! And I so wanted your ass," Brian said as he kissed Justin's neck.

"Let's go to bed. We know that works," Justin suggested

Getting out of the shower was a little more difficult, but they managed. Justin shut the water off and got out, drying himself quickly. Then he went into the shower to partially dry off Brian and help him walk over the lip of the shower. He gave him his crutches and then finished drying him off.

They returned to the bed, kissing and fondling each other on the way. Brian lay down with Justin perched on top of him. He aligned himself with Brian's newly-sheathed cock and slowly sunk down.

"Yessss," Brian hissed in pleasure. "That's more like it."

Brian grabbed Justin's waist, controlling the rhythm of their tryst. He moved Justin slowly at first, enjoying the feel of his tight ass surrounding his cock. Justin smiled and bent down to kiss Brian on the lips. They enjoyed a slow, lingering kiss, but Brian began moving Justin's hips at a faster pace. Justin sat up, helping the friction by squeezing his ass muscles. Brian felt himself filling the condom and then he took Justin's cock in hand, matching his thrusts, and Justin came. Brian loved the feel of Justin's warm cum on his fingers and brought them to his mouth, sucking off Justin's essence. Justin lay on top of Brian for a few moments, savoring their union, but then got up and went to the bathroom to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean them up.

They made love, though neither man labeled it as such, several times before lying on the bed, exhausted. Waking up from their post-coital nap, Justin stretched, enjoying the soreness in his body.

They lounged in the loft, talking and watching movies, for the remainder of the day. Daphne called and finalized plans for tomorrow's breakfast. They went to bed early, knowing tomorrow would be a long one.

Justin got up when the alarm went off and joined Brian, who was already in the shower. This time, there were no antics, just a quick blow job for Brian. Brian didn't need much help in getting dressed, so Justin got ready and fixed him breakfast.

"Aren't you eating?" Brian asked as sat down at the table.

"No, remember, I'm meeting Daphne for breakfast, and I'm showing her my new studio."

Brian finished his guava juice and pushed his plate away, signaling he was finished.

"Ready to return to work?" Justin asked as he placed the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher.

"Definitely--more than you will ever know. I'll be putting in some long hours in the next few weeks. Have so much to catch up on."

"Things are running smoothly at Kinnetik. Cynthia and Ted have done a great job. Admit it," Justin eagerly stated.

Brian didn't respond to the statement, just gave him a small grin. Justin drove him to work, and then went to his studio, where he met Daphne.

Daphne was waiting outside the studio when Justin drove up. "I still can't believe you're here. When you moved to New York , I didn't think you would ever return to Pittsburgh. And now, look at you: A few successful shows, your own studio and... Brian.," she gushed.

Justin smiled, but didn't comment. He pulled out his keys and opened the door. Stepping inside, he pointed to the box on the floor. "Brian sent this to me. I don't remember telling him the address of the studio, but somehow he figured it out."

Daphne opened her mouth in surprise. "He sent you a present?"

"Not exactly. Well, maybe you could call it that. He sent me twenty tubes of paint and a variety of brushes. The best part was the note. Here, read it." He handed her the note as he pointed to the box of supplies.

Daphne read the note and smiled. "Brian is a changed man. Are you absolutely certain he didn't hit his head? Or maybe he's been taken over by an alien," she joked.

Justin hit her on the arm with a mock punch. "I just think Brian is finally growing up. You know the gang has stayed away a lot since he was in the hospital. They haven't avoided him or anything; they come and visit, but it's different. They used to see him everyday and they spent most of their free time with each other, living in each other's pockets. When he was in the hospital, they visited, but they each had their lives and Brian wasn't a daily part of them anymore. Without their constant companionship, Brian isn't forced to put on his façade."

Daphne looked for a place to sit down and eyed the futon. She walked over to it and motioned for Justin to join her. "So you think Brian puts on a show for the gang?" she asked for clarification.

Justin shook his head. "No, not really a show. It's more of a persona. Like Billy Joel sings about... the mask... you know." Justin paused, staring into space and thinking. "I think they are a part of the persona too. Brian Kinney, Stud of Liberty Avenue, never fucks the same man twice. Beautiful, will never age, never grow up," Justin said, mimicking Michael's words.

"You sound angry, Justin," Daphne observed.

"No, I'm not angry. I just wish..."

"What do you wish? Tell me," she urged.

"He's so wonderful, Daphne. He loves Gus, he's a great father, and Gus adores him. He'd do anything for that little boy. He helps his friends... you know... like hiring Ted when he came out of rehab, and buying the comic book off eBay so Michael could open the comic book store. He's done something for every last one of them, but they act as if Brian is always to blame for every bad thing that happens. I just wish they would step back and realize what a great friend he really is." Justin moved to the box of paints and brushes and started unpacking his gift. "See these," he said as he held up a pack of brushes. "These are fifty dollar brushes." He pulled out a tube of Red Ochre paint and held it up. "And this tube of paint is $10.00, and there are nineteen more of them." Placing the tube in his bin of paints, he continued. "I didn't ask for this... never would have asked Brian for these supplies. But he knew that they were important to me. He knew that moving back to the Pitts was a big risk, a risk he's not totally sure I should take, but one he is supporting. These supplies are his way of saying I'm glad you're here and I want you to have a good start on things." He finished putting the paint in the bins and the brushes in cups. He took the box, broke it down and put it by the door to carry out to the dumpster.

"You love him," Daphne stated as she listened and watched Justin handle the new supplies with a special touch.

"Yes, I do, Daph. I'm so scared. He's out of the hospital and he's back at Kinnetik. The fairytale may be over," Justin sighed as he sat back down, facing his friend.

"You think he'll go back to his old ways?"

"No. Yes... maybe," Justin answered in quick succession. "We had the strangest conversation yesterday. He made some mention of not tricking. Explained he hadn't tricked in five weeks and hadn't felt the need," Justin explained as he ran his hands over each other like Macbeth.

"Isn't that what you want? I mean, you two were going to get married," Daphne questioned as she grabbed Justin's hand, trying to still them.

"I think I want it, Daphne, but I'm not sure Brian really does. He's been in the hospital for four weeks and home with me for the last week. Picking up tricks in the hospital is hard, even for Brian, and I really can't see him asking me to take him to Woody's so he can get his cock sucked. Even Brian isn't that crass. You know, we had an agreement. He could trick, but not in our bed, and he always kept that agreement. Now that he doesn't have me around all the time, he can go back to the life he led before I came back from New York." Justin took his hands from Daphne's and started to do the Macbeth imitation again.

"You are such a drama queen, Justin," Daphne exclaimed. "The two of you have always had each other's ticket. If Brian didn't want you around, he wouldn't have made you his Power of Attorney and given you medical proxy. Now stop all your drama and let's go to the diner. I do have to get to work sometime this morning." She stood up and walked to the cup holding the new paint brushes. She picked one up and ran the bristles over her hand. "These are really soft. I can see why Brian picked them. Maybe you should save a few to use as French Ticklers. Could be fun," she teased.

Justin laughed.

"It will be fine, Justin. As you said, Brian does things for those he cares about. He bought you all these supplies and obviously wants you around."

"Thanks," Justin walked over to Daphne and gave her a big hug.

"As far as the tricking thing...Well, see how he feels in a few weeks." Daphne smiled. "There could be far worse things than only sleeping with Brian Kinney," she teased, tongue in cheek. "Now let's go. I can hear your stomach growling from here."

Justin got their coats and they walked to the diner, where they ate breakfast.

After Daphne left, he returned to his studio and prepared a canvas. Their time together always made him feel good about his life, and today was no different. He picked up one of the new brushes and ran it over his arm as Daphne had done this morning. Smiling, he thought of using the soft brush to tease Brian, and he put away several of his brushes to "play" with Brian in the future. Picking up his pallet, he squirted some Cerulean Blue and Cadmium Yellow on it and began mixing shades of green. Dipping his brush in the light green mixture, he stroked a thick line in the middle of the canvas. He continued stroking shades of green on the canvas and switched his strokes to use the solid yellow, and then the solid blue. Stepping back, he was pleased with the initial effect and placed the brushes in turpentine to soak. Wiping his hand, he realized it was time to pick up Brian for lunch. He was anxious to see Brian and find out how his first day back was progressing. He picked up his coat, locked the door and drove to Kinnetik.

Walking into the reception area, he stopped and greeted Cynthia.

"I'm so glad you're here, Justin," she stated as he tried to look into the glass office. "He's in the art department and it's not a pretty sight."

Justin raised his eyebrow in understanding. "I'll go rescue the poor souls. If he fires anyone, assure them that they still have a job," he said.

Before Justin could walk down the hallway, Brian came out. "I heard that. Remember out little conversation about running my business..." Brian reminded Justin.

"I remember, but I also know you've missed putting the fear of Kinnney into your employees. You don't want your entire staff to leave as soon as you get back," Justin responded. "Now, I was just assuring Cynthia that you do want what's best for Kinnetik, right Brian?" Justin reminded him. "Come on. Let's go eat. You can terrorize the Kinnetik staff after you get some food into your body." Brian used his crutch and easily returned to his office to retrieve his coat.

"Okay, let's eat. I know that a starving Justin is not a happy Justin." Brian turned toward Cynthia. "At least go to the Art Department and explain the difference between Times New Roman and Courier type."

"Will do," Cynthia assured him.

They drove to the diner where they took a seat in the back. Brian picked up the menu, trying to decide what he was going to eat.

Justin laughed. "You've been coming here since you were fourteen. Why do you insist at looking at the menu?"

Brian shrugged. "So what are you going to eat? Didn't you and Daphne eat here for breakfast?"

"We did, but that was hours ago. Besides, I don't have the entire menu memorized." Justin smirked. "I'm going to have a chili dog and onion rings."

"Pfft. That will hold you for what... all of ten minutes," Brian chastised him.

"Maybe half an hour, but I was actually going to have the spaghtti plate. The chilli gives me gas," he responded.

"I did not need to know that," Brian groaned.

Debbie came up and took out her pad of paper. "Back to work, Brian?" she asked.

"Yeah, so I don't have time for chit chat. I'll have a roast beef sandwich and a salad. Give me a glass of tea too."

"Sunshine, what'll it be for you?"

"I think the spaghetti plate with meatballs and a coke. Oh and two lemon bars."

"Sure thing. Coming right up," she remarked as she wrote down their orders and moved to another table.

"How's Daphne?" Brian asked.

"Great. She loves the studio and she thought your gift was cool too."

"It wasn't a gift. You needed those brushes and paint, and I know you've been really busy helping me so I had them delivered to you," Brian explained.

Justin didn't bother to argue, but shook his head, acknowledging Brian's statement. "So... how's work?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "The art department has decided that they know better than me what the client wants. I swear artists are the most demanding people on earth," Brian lamented as he played with his water glass.

"I see," Justin said, inwardly smiling at the familiar rant.

"How's your leg holding up? Are you resting it enough?"

"I'm not an invalid, Justin. My leg is fine."

Their food arrived and they ate in silence. Justin took Brian back to work and he returned to his studio where he worked on his canvas for a few hours.

His hand was getting tired, so he stopped. He wanted to buy some snacks to keep at the studio and supplies for the bathroom. While the shower wasn't big enough for Brian and him to shower together, he would probably use it to clean up. He left the studio and purchased the items, and then returned to Kinnetik at 6:00 to pick up Brian. They returned to the loft, where Justin fixed dinner and Brian rested on the couch.

"How was your first day back?" Justin asked as he placed a plate of Puttanesca in front of Brian.

"Good. I'm glad to be back. There's a lot of work to do, but that's okay. I am kind of tired, though, so I didn't bring any work home. Want to watch a movie?"

Justin laughed at the role reversal. It had been him asking if he wanted to watch a movie for the last week. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"How about Casablanca ?" Brian suggested.

Justin never understood Brian's fascination with classic black and white films, especially love stories, but he liked Casablanca and was happy to watch it again. " Casablanca it is. Let me clean up the dishes from dinner, and we'll watch." Justin quickly cleaned the kitchen, threw a load of towels and sheets into the laundry, and joined Brian in the living room.

They enjoyed the movie and went to bed. "Ready to do this again tomorrow?" Justin asked as he slid under the sheets.

Brian still couldn't comfortably lie on his side, so he tried to get settled flat on his back. "This isn't how it will be forever, Justin. I will get my leg out of the cast and things will probably return to the way they were before my accident," Brian informed him.

Justin leaned on his side, face close to Brian's. "Maybe, but there's one huge difference this time, Brian. I'm here to stay. Unless you've changed your mind about wanting me here," Justin offered an easy way out.

"No, I want you here. I'm glad you decided to stay." Brian yawned and closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly.

It was late Friday afternoon and Brian was tired. He picked up the phone to call Justin.

"Hey," he said when Justin answered.

"Hey. Everything okay?" Justin asked, concern in his voice.

"Everything's fine. Just ready to relax. I'm thinking Woody's, some pool, a few beers..." Brian didn't finish his statement, allowing Justin to fill in the blanks.

"Sounds good. Are you sure you're up to it?" Justin asked.

"I'm not a two year old, Justin. If you don't want to go with me, I'll have Theodore take me," Brian informed Justin.

"No, I miss Woody's. It's been awhile. Why don't I pick you up at 7:00 and we can hit the diner for dinner," he suggested.

"Later," Brian used the familiar term.

"Later," Justin repeated.

Justin picked up Brian and they went to the diner. None of the gang were there and they ate in relative quiet. Justin drove Brian to Woody's and parked the ‘Vette in the adjacent lot, having returned the van earlier in the week.

"You're walking pretty well, Brian," Michael remarked at Woody's that night. "I can't wait for all of us to go to Babylon ."

"It will be a few weeks until I'm ready for Babylon , but I may join you for a few drinks," Brian informed his friend. He looked at the empty pool table. "Anyone for pool? I'm sure my game's for shit since I haven't shot in almost two months, but I'll give it a whirl," Brian announced to the small group. He pointed to the crutch and added, "And this lovely accessory is a bitch, but those balls are calling my name."

"I'll play you," Michael volunteered. "I might actually win if you haven't played in so long." He racked up the balls, and everyone watched the two play. Brian won, but Michael didn't play so badly.

As they played, a tall, thin brunet made eye contact with Brian, but he shook his head, rejecting the would-be trick. Michael noted the refusal, but didn't say anything. Justin watched the two friends play and then excused himself to get another beer.

After Brian turned down another trick, Michael couldn't keep quiet. "That's the fifth guy you turned away."

"I don't have to explain anything to you, but if you must know, I don't want them."

‘Shit!" Michael exclaimed. "I just knew it was going to be trouble when Justin didn't trick the other night at Babylon ."

"Justin can do what he wants, Michael," Brian reminded him. He picked up the pool cue and lined up another ball. "Besides, do you really think anyone is going to want to give a guy in a leg cast and crutches a blow job.. The cast does make it rather inconvenient."

"I guess you're right," Michael said sheepishly. "It's just..."

"Let me worry about my life, Mikey," Brian said as his ball went into the pocket. "Game over," he announced to the gang. He eyed Justin returning with his beer and he turned to him. "Ready to get out of here, Justin?"

Justin looked at the gang, noticing their faces. He knew better than to ask, but responded, "Sure. I'll get the car." He kissed Brian briefly on the lips and left the bar.
___________________________________________________________

Life returned to almost normal. Justin drove Brian back and forth to work, meeting him for lunch most days. They spent their free time together, and at least once a week went to Lindsay and Melanie's for dinner and play time with Gus. Michael came over at least once a week, too, and Brian enjoyed their time together as well. But most evenings, Brian and Justin were alone. They worked, had sex, and occasionally played a game or watched a movie. Brian regained his strength, and looked forward to getting his cast off and returning to his pre-accident days.

It had been a month since Justin's show in New York, and he was planning on flying there after work on Friday. He'd taken slides of all of his latest work to show Sam and had been spending a lot of time in his studio. He placed the paint brushes in the turpentine to let them soak while he placed the painting on a special easel to dry. His plane left in a few hours and he still had to go back to the loft to pack. He drank the last of his coffee and unplugged his coffee maker.

"Hey," Justin said.

"You leaving for the airport?" Brian asked.

"Not yet. I still have to pack," Justin admitted.

"Shit, Justin. I thought you were going to do that this morning. What happened?" Brian chastised him.

"I was inspired when I woke up. I'll throw some clothes in a bag and I'll be off. Don't worry," Justin assured him.

"See you in a few days. Call me when you land," Brian reminded him.

"Later," Justin said, ending the conversation.

"Later," Brian repeated and hung up the phone.

Justin returned to the loft and started packing. He took out a few shirts, but decided that they weren't the ones he wanted and left them on the bed. He pulled out another shirt and realized the cleaner didn't get the stain out, dropping that one on the chair. He hunted through his closet and chose a blue button down and a black shirt as well as a few T's. He put some cargo pants in the bag and a pair of dress pants as well as a clubbing outfit.

He grabbed his toiletry kit from the bathroom, but then remembered he was almost out of shampoo and needed to refill the small bottle. Shit. I should do this when I come back from my trips instead of when I leave. He grabbed the big bottle of shampoo and started transferring it to the smaller bottle. Damn those airlines and their stupid regulations. If I wasn't in such a hurry, I'd just go buy me a new bottle, but I don't have time and the stuff they give you in hotels is for shit. He filled up the bottle and didn't notice the overflow that he left on the sink.

He shoved his toiletry kit into the small carry on and looked for his shoes. He couldn't find the pair he was looking for and ended up taking out three different pairs from the closet. He put back two of them, but left one by the door as he saw it needed new laces.

His stomach growled and he went to the kitchen to fix a snack. Taking out the turkey breast he'd cooked the other night, he sliced a few pieces. He toasted the bread and took out the mayonnaise. After spreading the mayonnaise on his toast, he went to put the knife in the dishwasher, but noticed it was filled with clean dishes; therefore he dropped the knife in the sink. He took out a plate, placing his sandwich on it and brought it to the table along with his glass of milk. He ate the sandwich and drank his milk, leaving the dishes in the sink.

Looking at his watch, he noticed that he only had forty five minutes to get to the airport. Damn airports, security takes longer than the flights do. He called the cab and left for the airport.
__________________________________________________________

It had been a long week; Eyeconics had wanted a new fall campaign, Brown Athletics was finalizing their fall sports campaign and the new account for Targis Computer products had been signed. However, what really got him was the campaign for Gaim. He'd worked on that campaign for weeks, almost since he returned from the hospital ,and today the CEO called Ted and told him they were going with another firm. The bastards. He hadn't lost an account in a long time and to lose that one really hurt. It wasn't that big of an account, but it was the principal of the thing. He had the best campaign and he knew it. The CEO was just a prick. Brian had been working long hours and was ready for the quiet weekend. Ted dropped him at the Loft and he was ready for some take out from the Tai place around the corner, accompanied by a good James Dean movie. Justin hated those so he hadn't watched one in a while and he was looking forward to it.

Brian unlocked the door to the loft, putting down his briefcase and looked around. There were couch pillows on the floor, papers on the table and clothing all over the bedroom.

"God damn, mother fucker. Can't he clean up his shit? I know we fucked in the living room last night-that was really hot, but couldn't he have put the cushions back on the couch? He knows it's a pain for me to get to the floor. Shit, the bedroom is worse. His clothes are everywhere and I'll be damned if I'm hanging them up," he said to no one in a loud, agitated voice. "I need a fucking drink." He went over to the liquor cart and poured himself a shot of Beam. It was good and he poured another. It went down smoothly. "Fuck it." He took the DVD out, placed it in the player and grabbed the bottle and took it to the couch. Putting his leg up, he leaned against the back and watched the movie, finishing most of the bottle of Beam.

The phone rang, but he let it go to the machine.

"Brian... Brian... you there? Guess you went out. Anyway, I'm here. Next time, I'll leave earlier--almost missed my plane. Gotta go, Sam's waiting. Talk to you later."

Brian looked at the machine and yelled at it, not picking up the phone. "I'm fucking here, Justin. All I wanted was some peace and quiet and to come home to my Loft, and I get home to this mess that you left me." He raised the bottle, tipping the little bit of amber liquid into his mouth.

Brian passed out on the couch, not used to drinking. The shrill of his cell phone woke him up.

"Hello," he slurred.

"Brian?"

"Uhh..."

"Did I wake you? You didn't answer earlier, so I thought you
went out. It's only 1:00 a.m.; thought you'd be up."

"Didn't go out. Watched Rebel Without a Cause, thought it fitting," he said very slowly, trying to keep his voice even.

"You're drunk?" Justin accused.

"No..." Brian said, laughing with little humor. "I don't get drunk anymore. Remember... No pain management," he mocked.

Justin's antenna went up, "What happened, Brian? Is everything okay?" Justin asked, the fear evident in his voice.

"Life happened. Work is a bitch and I lost the Gaim account, that prick. All I wanted was a nice, quiet evening and I come home to my Loft in a mess. Clothes everywhere, dirty dishes in the sink, and cushions on the floor. Jesus, Justin, can't you pick up after yourself?" he announced.

"I'm sorry, I know you worked hard on that account. What happened? And about the other, I was running late and nothing was right. It won't happen again," Justin apologized.

"You're right it won't. Bye, Justin," Brian slammed down the phone.

Justin looked at the phone in his hand, disbelief on his face. Shit, he's drunk. It's all my fault. I left the Loft a mess and all he wanted was to come home to peace and quiet. I can't do anything right. Shit. Will I ever learn?

Justin crawled into the bed, tossing and turning the remainder of the night.

Brian got up fromt he couch and went to the bedroom as well. He undressed and took two aspirin to ward off the hangover he knew he'd have in the morning. Shit! What the fuck did I just do?

He grabbed his phone, speed dialing Justin, but got his voice mail. He tried several more times, giving up and shutting the light off so he could attempt to get some much needed sleep.