“Jesus fucking Christ, come on!” Justin muttered, shifting his heavy overnight bag so that it was further back on his shoulder. The AirMall at Pittsburgh International was uncharacteristically congested for nearing midnight on a Monday night, and moving toward the concourse exit was starting to feel on the verge of impossible..
A college-aged girl standing nearby smiled sympathetically. “I just heard someone say only one tram is running, so I guess that’s why.” Sure enough, as the crowd neared the Airside Terminal station for the airport’s people mover, Justin could see that one side was completely obscured from view, forcing all incoming and outgoing passengers to wait on only one operational train.
Excuse our dust! We’ve got something new and exciting in store! - Pittsburgh Art Council & Allegheny County Airport Authority, a large sign read, with a date specifying service resumption.
Justin rolled his eyes. Whatever was so “new and exciting” was keeping him from surprising his partner, hopefully catching Brian in bed, but not so ready to fall asleep that he wouldn’t be up for at least one round of fun first. In fairness, Brian was nearly always up for a round (or two or three) of fun at any given hour of the day, but Justin also knew that Brian had cut down significantly on his club nights, even after they’d called off their marriage, so the likelihood of him already winding down on a week night was fairly high.
It took two more train cycles before Justin could finally squeeze his way into a car, and breathed a sigh of relief as they began barreling through the tunnel toward the Landside Terminal. He said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t decided to check a suitcase, avoiding Baggage Claim altogether, and sent a text to Daphne, who, bless her heart, had offered to pick him up, even with his late arrival.
“Thank you so much, Daph,” he said ten minutes later as he slid into the passenger seat of her car and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I know it’s late, so I really appreciate it.”
Daphne smiled and gave a small snort. “Justin, it’s fine. I’m in Med School. We don’t sleep.”
Justin laughed. “You’re in Med School?! How did I miss that, considering you mention it literally every time I see you?” Truly, though, the program that Daphne was in was highly competitive and Justin was incredibly proud of his best friend. He always appreciated the time she made to see him anytime he was in town, considering her incredibly hectic schedule.
Fortunately, unlike the airport traffic, the Parkway West was blessedly empty, and it only took about twenty minutes before Daphne pulled up in front of the familiar brick building on Tremont. As Justin’s eyes scanned up its facade, his gaze settling on the darkened top floor windows, butterflies started dancing in his stomach. The man he loved was inside those walls, and Justin could only hope that within the next several minutes, he’d have that very same man inside him.
“So I’ll see you for lunch on Friday?” Daphne’s question interrupted Justin’s train of thought, and probably for good reason, as he could already feel his dick getting hard with anticipation.
Justin nodded. “Definitely. And thank you again so much for picking me up.”
Daphne smiled widely. “Anytime, dork. Now go have some real fun with Brian. But tell him I said hi first.”
“I will. Love you, Daph,” Justin said, giving his best friend a hug. She reciprocated the sentiment as he leaned into her backseat to grab his giant duffel bag, and a moment later, she was on her way back to her apartment, and Justin was headed upstairs, excited to see what the rest of his night had in store.
***
The loft was completely dark when Justin pulled open the heavy door, trying to keep his noise level down. He didn’t want to startle Brian if he was still awake, and Justin also had better ideas for how to wake him if Brian had already fallen asleep.
When there was no immediate reaction, Justin figured he could rule out the former possibility and shut the door as gently as he could before dropping his bag near Brian’s sectional sofa and kicking off his shoes so that he could pad into the bedroom as discreetly as possible -- if the sound of his heart thudding with anticipation didn’t wake Brian first.
Justin couldn’t help the smile that broke onto his face as he headed up the three steps into the bedroom, using the dim light from outside the windows as his guide, but when he got to the edge of the bed, he realized that his anticipation was all for nought. The bed was made. And empty. Brian wasn’t home.
Well, fuck Justin thought. Guess the surprise is on me.
It was strange that Brian had decided to go out that night; when they’d spoken earlier that day, Brian had been in between meetings during a chaotic day at Kinnetik, and had lamented how “utterly fucking exhausted” he was feeling. Usually, especially following his brief foray with cancer, those were the nights Brian came home after work, and had a night of solo “healthy” self-care -- a long, hot shower, reading a book, watching one of his favorite movies, trying to keep up with one of the TV shows Justin would choose for them to watch “together” so that they could discuss each week, or jerking off -- preferably with Justin doing the same, on the other end of the phone. Babylon, Woody’s, or the Baths were reserved for weekends or days when Brian had too much frenetic energy to burn off after an exhilarating day at work. Ironically, those were the nights he missed Justin most, so Justin hoped that if Brian was out having fun, that meant he’d be even more eager for another round when he got home.
The upside to Brian being out on a weeknight was that Justin knew that he always made sure to get home no later than one o’clock these days, so there was only about thirty minutes to wait. Justin made use of the time by quickly unpacking a few things, then taking a shower, figuring there was no better way to greet his partner than being squeaky clean and naked on top of the duvet, ready to pleasure him. There was a very small chance that Brian might not come back alone, but ever since they’d become engaged, Brian rarely tricked at home. Initially, it had been something Justin saw as Brian trying too hard to change for him, but even once they were living in separate places, Brian continued to maintain the same routine, keeping the majority of his extracurricular fucks to the backroom at Babylon. It had warmed Justin in an unexpected way, realizing that Brian now seemed to see his bed as “their” place.
By quarter after one, however, there was still no sign of Brian, and Justin, as desperately as he wanted to wait, was starting to feel his eyes getting heavy. He’d had a long day too -- painting in his studio early that morning while the light was best, a long shift at the East Village cafe where he worked to pay his expenses until his art could support him, and then a rush to LaGuardia to catch the 90-minute flight that would put him in his current location. When he’d started the day, the driving force to get through it all had been the thought of a long, tender fuck before falling asleep tangled with the person he loved most in the world. As Justin checked the time on his phone yet again, he realized that it was likely not to be.
It was chilly in the room, so Justin eventually forced himself to pull back the duvet and crawl underneath it, trying to pretend that its weight was an adequate substitute for Brian’s arm wrapped around him. Though Brian often joked that Justin could sleep like the dead, he was grateful that on this particular night, he drifted in and out of consciousness, because the heavy scraping of the door, when Brian finally came home after two, woke him completely.
“What the fuck?” Brian muttered, and Justin realized that he’d left the bedroom light on, which Brian was clearly not expecting, considering the complete darkness Justin had entered a few hours prior.
Brian, however, was astute, and quickly spotted the duffel bag that was unmistakably his partner’s, and Justin heard his footsteps quicken as he headed up to the bedroom.
Justin’s brain was still a bit fuzzy when Brian finally came into sight -- disjointed sleep was one of the worst things for him, as far as lingering effects from the bashing that had caused him brain damage nearly seven years prior -- but he could’ve sworn that the first emotions he identified on Brian’s face were confusion, and possibly… panic? But the expressions were gone as quickly as they had come, so much so that Justin wasn't completely sure he hadn’t imagined them entirely.
“Surprise,” he croaked out, then laughed and cleared his throat, repeating the greeting a bit more enthusiastically.
“Indeed,” Brian replied, but unlike Justin’s visualization of their reunion, he didn’t fall immediately onto the bed and into Justin’s ass. Instead, his left hand moved out in a questioning gesture. “What are you doing here?”
Justin snorted. “I figured the whole ‘Surprise’ part would cover it.”
“Mmhmm,” Brian said, tongue planted in his cheek as he continued to process his unanticipated guest -- not that Justin was ever truly a “guest’ in any space that Brian occupied these days.
“Was… should…” Justin stammered, the lack of a real welcome starting to concern him. “I’m… sorry?”
As soon as Brian saw the trepidation on Justin’s face, it was like a switch flipped, and he smiled. “Sorry’s bullshit. Get over here, you little shit.”
It was all the invitation Justin needed, and within a fraction of a second, he’d thrown back the duvet and launched himself at Brian, his naked body wrapping around Brian’s fully-clothed one. Their lips found each other quickly, and Justin easily fell back into the familiarity of being in his lover’s arms, but before he could deepen their kiss or start to work on Brian’s shirt, Brian pulled back enough to make Justin reconsider attempting either.
“Is everything OK? Did you just come from the office?” Justin asked, somehow only just realizing that Brian was in work clothes, not club attire. Brian was known to burn the midnight oil, but this was excessive even for him.
“It’s just been a long, busy day,” he replied in an effective non-answer. “I need to shower.”
Justin gave Brian a hopeful smile. “I could join you?”
After what felt like a slight rejection already, Justin half-expected Brian to deny him, but thankfully, Brian simply shrugged and said, “Looks like it might be a little redundant for you, but sure.” He tweaked a still-damp strand of Justin’s blond hair, and then turned to head into the bathroom, pulling off his already-loosened tie as he went.
While Brian stripped, brushed his teeth, and took a piss, Justin started the shower settings to what he knew Brian preferred, then stepped back to let the water heat up. As he watched the older man’s naked backside, he found his eyes tracing every inch of skin for anything that seemed unusual. It was stupid for a variety of reasons -- for one, Brian was very particular about not allowing marks to be left on his body by anyone except Justin, and at that, it was still very minimal. And even if someone Brian fucked had left a mark, it wasn’t like Justin was the trick police and would be upset if Brian was out doing exactly what Brian had always done -- or so Justin told himself. Their long-standing rules even remained pretty much the same as before Justin had moved out of state -- namely, no repeat fucks and no kissing on the lips. They’d only agreed on one new addition, per Justin’s insistence, which was no bottoming for tricks. But, since Brian could count on one hand the number of times he’d bottomed in the past ten years, and all of them had been for Justin -- and Justin rarely tricked at all in New York -- the rule seemed rather moot. With the curfew rule out of play due to distance, pretty much anything else was fair game.
“You coming?” Brian’s voice startled Justin into reality, and he turned to see that Brian had stepped into the shower, the water cascading over his body. The overhead light illuminated every toned muscle on his chest and abs, the soft indentations around his hip bones, and his beautiful dick -- that was finally, blessedly starting to show interest in Justin’s arrival.
“I hope we both do,” Justin replied cheekily, wasting no more time. Once they were both under the spray, Brian seemed to come alive a bit more, allowing Justin to ravage his mouth, giving as much as Justin wanted to take. Although Justin wanted Brian to bend him over and fuck him senseless against the shower wall, he could see that Brian looked genuinely exhausted, so once they took turns soaping each other’s bodies, Justin dropped to his knees instead and took Brian into his mouth, putting all of his effort into giving his partner as much pleasure as possible. By the time Justin was done, Brian could barely stay upright, so despite Justin’s rock-hard cock still waiting for attention, he called it a Win and they got out of the shower, quickly drying off before moving to the bed.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” Brian asked, his fingers lightly grazing Justin’s erection.
Justin moaned at the teasing touch on his previously neglected dick. “I don’t care, I just want you. Whatever. Touch me.”
“Like this?” Brian tightened his grip and moved faster.
“Yes, fuck,” Justin moaned more loudly, his hips arching into Brian’s fist. It didn’t take long for him to come, and then after Brian cleaned them up as best he could without physically getting back out of the bed, Justin snuggled up against his body, the feeling of skin-against-skin eliciting a sigh of relief. The evening hadn’t been everything he’d hoped for, but it was ending closely enough.
As they settled into the darkness, Justin felt Brian’s lips against his ear. “I thought you weren’t coming home until later this month.”
“I missed you,” Justin said simply. “I didn’t want to wait longer.”
“When do you go back?”
“Sunday night.”
Brian breathed out something that sounded like, “Shit,” but Justin wasn’t sure enough to question it.
“I know you’re busy,” Justin continued, on the off-chance that he’d heard correctly. “I’m going to see Mom and Daph and Deb, and everyone during the day. I just thought we could be together in the evenings, go to Babylon this weekend, fuck like crazy…” He finished with his tone lightly seductive, hoping that would be the selling point, but Brian only sighed.
“I’ve got… Things are just incredibly chaotic right now. I’ll be around as much as I can.”
“Were you coming from the office tonight?” Justin asked again, recalling Brian’s avoidant response from earlier.
“I had things to do.”
Justin knew better than to continue the line of questioning, especially as he heard the need for sleep overtaking Brian’s voice, but something about his partner’s indirect responses was not sitting well with him. It bothered him even more that he couldn’t put a finger on why.
Regardless, he was finally back in Brian’s arms, which was where he’d wanted to be all day, so he pressed his body into Brian’s, feeling the man’s soft cock nestle against the cleft of his ass in their shared favorite sleep position, and closed his eyes. Right now, this was all that mattered.
***
Despite their late night, Justin woke up before Brian and smiled when he realized neither of them had moved during the night. Justin hadn’t slept so soundly in weeks, and based on Brian’s steady and deep breathing, he hoped the same was the case for him.
Justin contemplated getting out of bed to make coffee, but he could also feel the stirring of Brian’s morning wood against him, so he stayed put, hoping that once Brian was awake, he’d be up for a round of what they hadn’t accomplished the night before.
About ten minutes before Brian’s usual alarm went off, Justin heard his phone vibrate several times in succession, and the last was apparently enough to draw Brian out of his slumber. Unfortunately, it also caused him to roll over, breaking their direct contact with one another. Brian put his phone to his face, squinting against the bright light of the screen and scanned the messages before muttering, “Fuck.”
“What?” Justin asked, trying to gauge whether or not he should be concerned.
Brian simply shook his head. “Nothing. I’m supposed to be somewhere.”
Justin raised his eyebrows. “Your alarm hasn’t even gone off. How could you possibly be late for something?” He tried to peek at Brian’s phone screen as he watched Brian tap out a hurried reply, but Brian just discreetly tilted the phone further away, effectively obstructing Justin’s view.
“I told you last night. I have things to do.” Without another word, he got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, taking his phone with him and closing the door.
Justin pulled Brian’s abandoned pillow over his face and groaned. He contemplated walking into the bathroom, but the closed door felt like a pointed message, and Brian clearly didn’t seem in the mood for anything sexual, which was incredibly unlike him. Usually when Justin was home for a visit or Brian came to New York, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other in some way, shape, or form for at least the first twelve hours, but it felt like this time, it had taken heavy coaxing to pique even a little bit of interest from the other man. Admittedly, the timing wasn’t ideal, but that had never really stopped Brian before.
Once Brian emerged from his shower, he dressed in record time and was ready to leave, though fortunately he did walk around to Justin’s side of the bed to give him a proper kiss first. Justin started to feel a little hopeful about the day until Brian was heading out the door and called over his shoulder, “I’m in meetings ‘til late, so don’t make plans for me.”
As the loft door slammed shut behind him, Justin sighed and mumbled, “Love you too.”
***
The diner was fairly slow for a mid-Tuesday morning by the time Justin headed in, craving grilled cheese and onion rings. It was technically still breakfast time, but after his dismissive morning with Brian, all he really wanted was comfort food.
He’d tried texting Brian about an hour and a half after the older man had rushed out of the loft, just to make sure he’d made it to his mysterious destination safely, and while Brian did reply, his answer was no more informative than the night before. Brian was rarely secretive about his work or his whereabouts -- at least not with Justin -- so it all struck Justin as a bit odd. In fact, the only time Brian had really ever outright lied to Justin about where he’d been was…
No, shit. It couldn’t be that again…
It had been nearly three years since Brian’s cancer treatment, and at every appointment since, he’d been given a clean bill of health, growing stronger each year. Was Brian experiencing something else cancer-related and seeking treatments that he didn’t want Justin to know about? Justin didn’t want to believe it could be anything like that -- Brian seemed fine. And besides that, they’d agreed that if anything like that happened again, Brian would be more transparent.
Before Justin could fall too far into his thoughts and start concocting worst-case scenarios, a familiar screeching voice caused him to look up.
“HOLY SHIT, SUNSHINE! Is that really you?!”
Debbie was barreling toward him, arms spread wide and a huge smile on her face. It was clear that her expectation was for Justin to stand up, so he obliged, feeling an unexpected sense of relief as Debbie engulfed him in one of her bone-crushing hugs.
“Hi Deb,” Justin said, smiling as they separated and both sat down in the booth, Debbie seeming to expect an explanation for his unexpected appearance.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked, though, unlike Brian’s version of a similar question the night before, Debbie’s sounded thrilled, and he had to admit that it felt great to be so welcome. Not that Brian ever greeted him with such enthusiasm or pizzazz, but he certainly had his own way of letting Justin know how much he’d been missed. Usually, anyway.
“I just wanted to surprise Brian,” Justin replied. “He wasn’t able to make it up to the city for his usual visit last month, and I didn’t want to wait ‘til mine in a few weeks to see him again.”
Debbie snorted. “That boyfriend of yours needs to take a break. From what I’ve seen and heard, he’s been burning the candle at both ends and every inch in between. Sounds like a little bit of sunshine is exactly what he needs.”
Justin couldn’t help but smile at Debbie’s double entendre, but also couldn’t stop the small sigh that escaped as she stood back up from the table.
Back at her full height, Debbie looked down at Justin, snapped her gum, and then rolled her eyes. “What’d the little asshole do now?” Justin started to shake his head and opened his mouth to respond, but Deb put up a hand to stop him. “First, you’re gonna tell me what you’re eating, and then, when I get back, you’ll let me know whose ass I need to kick next.”
Justin let his mouth fall closed, and shook his head, chuckling lightly. “I’ll have a grilled cheese with bacon, and onion rings.”
True to her word, Debbie returned a few minutes later, first plunking a glass of water at the corner of Justin’s placemat, and then putting her hands on her hips. “Well?”
Justin gave her a grateful smile, but shook her head again. “It’s really nothing, Deb. Like you just said, he’s busy, and I didn’t give him any warning. I’m just worried about him, I guess. He’s just… something’s off, and he won’t tell me what it is.”
Debbie frowned. “Off like how?”
Rather than launching into a lengthy description of their evening and Brian’s general avoidant behavior, Justin asked a question of his own instead, hoping to obliterate his major fear. “Has his health been OK?”
Someone called for Deb from behind the counter -- Justin felt almost guilty for not recognizing them or knowing their name -- so she had to excuse herself, but before she turned, she simply shrugged. “If it wasn’t, I doubt I’d be first in line to know.”
Unfortunately, the late morning rush picked up after that, and short of dropping off Justin’s food, Debbie didn’t have time to come back to continue their conversation, though she told him they’d continue sometime before he left. Unfortunately, Justin wanted -- no, he needed answers sooner than that. If Brian was so busy because he had multiple medical appointments during the week, or some kind of ongoing treatments, or was avoiding him so that he didn’t have to deliver bad news, Justin wanted to know. It made even more sense that Brian might try to keep upsetting health news quiet because of Justin being away, figuring what could he possibly do to help from New York? If Brian was truly sick again, Justin would make a point to show him.
Something Deb said had stuck in Justin’s brain after he left the diner, lingering while he walked through the park and got coffee from his favorite cafe near PIFA. “If it wasn’t, I doubt I’d be the first in line to know.”
Who would be the first to know?
Justin now had a destination in mind. Coffee and determination in hand, he headed for Kinnetik.
***
“Well this is a welcome surprise,” Cynthia greeted Justin when he walked into the office, and she stood up from her desk to give him a hug. “Boss didn’t mention you were in town.”
Justin smiled sheepishly. “I surprised him… or I tried to. But I guess I should’ve checked with you to find out about his schedule first. Speaking of which… is he here?”
A flash of something Justin couldn’t quite interpret flickered across Cynthia’s face, but she barely faltered, giving him a bright smile. “Unfortunately, he’s not, but I can definitely let him know to call you when he’s back…”
Justin shook his head. “No, I know he’s busy. I just… do you know if he’s at a doctor’s appointment or--”
Now Cynthia looked genuinely confused. “Doctor? No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t had anything like that recently, but--” she stopped herself, seeming to refocus her thoughts. “He’s working on a new… account of sorts, so it’s kept him busier than usual.”
It was clear that Cynthia’s skills of evasion were on par with Brian’s, so Justin realized he wasn’t going to get much more out of her, and it wasn’t her place to tell him Brian’s business, so he figured he needed to leave well enough alone. At least, he reasoned, it didn’t sound like Brian had any major health concerns at play, so that was a relief, but it still didn’t explain why he barely seemed interested in Justin’s visit, unplanned as it had been.
Since Cynthia did appear genuinely happy to see him, Justin stayed to visit with her for a while, also taking the opportunity to peek around the art department. It made him happy that Brian had managed to snag several of the top graphic designers when he’d left Vangard -- it validated exactly what Justin had observed during his time interning at the firm: Brian was a strong and well-respected leader whose management style, albeit frequently non-traditional, not only generated loyalty among his employees but also brought out the best in them. Now that Brian had the complete freedom of owning his own agency, the designers’ talents were soaring beyond belief, and Justin felt a slightly wistful pull as he walked around the room, looking at various boards on unintentional display.
Justin was finishing a conversation with one of the new illustrators when he noticed Brian standing just inside his office door. He excused himself from the conversation and headed in that direction, wondering how he’d missed his partner’s return, but Cynthia appeared to have just left the room, so he figured they’d immediately gone into a quick meeting. Now, Brian was scanning the office, and when his gaze landed on Justin, he offered a small smile and tilted his head once, in a gesture for Justin to join him.
Once the office door was closed, Brian made quick work of closing the blinds and wasted no time pulling Justin against him and leaning down for a fervent kiss. “I have a half hour, if you do,” he murmured.
“Oh God, yes,” Justin breathed back, his hands migrating beneath Brian’s suit jacket so he could push it from his shoulders. As they undressed each other, their lips continuing to battle, Justin’s heart surged and he could feel his dick growing impossibly hard. He could feel Brian own desire unquestionably evident as he rutted against him, just the thin fabric of their briefs separating them. That was what he’d been waiting for, the urgency and passion.
Brian trailed long, tongue-filled kisses down Justin’s neck and his torso, pulling Justin’s briefs with him when he reached them. “Keep your voice down,” he warned seductively, gazing up at Justin through half-lidded eyes, and then engulfed Justin’s dick in the hot, wet heat of his mouth, moving with skill and obvious intention. Justin’s brain was on the verge of malfunctioning -- Brian was so fucking good at giving head -- but he still hoped that all of this would lead to them fucking, even if it had to be on Brian’s small office couch. By that point, though, Justin would have taken Brian’s cock while balancing on top of the fax machine if he had to.
His hopes started to dash the second Brian pressed the tip of his finger against Justin’s perineum -- clearly trying to make him come, and as much as Justin wanted to resist -- to wait until he could finish on Brian’s cock, his desperately horny body had a completely different agenda, and his orgasm was imminent. Brian didn’t pull off until Justin’s spasms had stopped, and then looked up, grinning slyly as he carefully replaced Justin’s underwear over his sensitive dick.
“You like that, Sunshine?” he rasped, knowing Justin loved the way Brian sounded after an intense blowjob.
Justin just smiled and nodded at first, still trying to catch his breath, but when Brian stood up, he gestured at the bulge in his partner’s Armani briefs and said, “What about you?”
Brian shrugged and sat down on the sofa, lowering his underwear enough to expose his dick, both of them watching intently as it bobbed heavily over his midsection. “That’s the situation,” he said, causing Justin to laugh.
“Will you fuck me?” Justin had to ask, desire still swirling through his core.
“Later,” Brian promised. “But not enough time now.” He gave a sympathetic smile when he saw Justin’s skeptical look. “I’d rather it be more than a quickie with you.”
It was sweet, in an unexpected way, Justin had to admit, so he gave in and moved down to the floor, between Brian’s spread knees and reciprocated, paying extra attention to Brian’s balls -- just in case, and because he knew it drove Brian crazy anyway, especially because Justin always lavished them both with equal attention, regardless of the fact that only one wasn’t fake and useless. They finished just in time for Cynthia to call and inform Brian that his next meeting guests had arrived, so they dressed quickly, then Brian gave Justin a long kiss before heading toward his private en-suite bathroom, requesting that Justin exit through the back hallway and apologizing again that he’d be working late.
As he headed back out to Liberty Avenue, Justin felt slightly vindicated, as evidenced by his own sexual satiety, at least for the time being, and he felt a sense of relief that Brian truly seemed to be healthy as a horse -- nothing looked or felt out of sorts. But something still felt “off.” Except now, Justin had no idea how to figure out what it was.
***
True to his word, Brian worked so late that night that Justin had fallen deeply asleep by the time he came home, and had showered and come to bed without disturbing him. When Justin woke up the next morning, he was disappointed to find himself squarely on his usual side of the bed, with Brian snoring lightly on his own, several inches away.
There were no early texts before Brian’s alarm, but Brian seemed no more eager to engage in some morning fun than the day before, again rushing to the shower, phone-in-hand. That part was incredibly odd, Justin thought. Brian was not one to keep his phone attached to his side if he didn’t have to, and usually had no issue with Justin looking at anything on it -- he didn’t play games (figurative or literal), didn’t exchange numbers with tricks, per their agreement, regularly scrolled through hook-up apps with Justin himself, and, following the aftermath of the Dr. Rabinowitz incident, they’d established an unspoken understanding that each other’s texts and private voice messages were only to be shared by mutual agreement.
The only real reason that Brian would keep his phone with him at all times was if he was trying to keep something hidden from Justin, and now feeling fairly confident that it wasn’t a concerning diagnosis, Justin was still at square one.
“Why do you think he’s keeping a secret?” Daphne asked later over coffee. Justin was grateful for his best friend and her willingness to give up an hour of studying to talk him off of a ledge.
Justin stirred the foam of his macchiato and sighed. “I don’t know if he is. It’s just that nothing adds up, and any time I try to ask a question, he shuts me down with something completely dismissive. He’s also just… not… Brian.”
“What’s that even mean?” Daphne asked, snorting a little before she took a sip of her peppermint mocha. “He’s only doing you three times a day instead of five?”
“Try not even once. At all.”
“Oh shit.”
Brian and Justin’s marathon reunion-sex was a running joke among their group of friends. Michael often joked that if he knew Justin was coming to town, or Brian was going to New York, he wouldn’t expect to hear from either of them for at least a day. And in many cases, it wasn’t even an exaggeration. Usually, when Brian and Justin ended up back in the same place after a lengthy separation, they couldn’t get enough of each other -- and, truthfully, it wasn’t even that they were having sex 24/7. They took advantage of time to talk, enjoy meals together, watch one of their shows in person, or just simply enjoy whatever form of being together that they could concoct -- and once they felt “properly” reunited, they’d welcome the outside world once again.
Justin had known that, this time, it wouldn’t be quite that idyllic, because Brian did have to work during the week, but he’d hoped that Brian would have jumped at the chance to have Justin all to himself during the other parts of the day.
“So you guys haven’t had sex at all” Daphne’s voice was incredulous. “The other night, I assumed you’d make it through at least one round before I even made it back to my apartment.”
“He wasn’t even home when you dropped me off,” Justin admitted. “We fooled around a little once he finally came in, but it was super late, and it almost felt like he was just placating me, not like he was excited about it.”
Daphne frowned. In all her years of knowing Brian, the one thing that was always certain was his insatiable desire for Justin. Even though Justin had always been the one lobbying for love, Brian had always been the one crazy for the sex. Even Justin had said that Brian could go fuck or get sucked by one or two guys at Babylon, but still come home and save the best for him.
“I stopped by Kinnetik yesterday, because I started wondering if maybe he was sick again--”
“Oh fuck,” Daphne breathed, but Justin put a hand on her arm to stop her from continuing.
“He’s fine, I think. Cynthia seemed surprised that I’d even ask, and she’s the one who would know his schedule better than anyone. Anyway, he came back while I was there, and gave me a fucking amazing blowjob in his office, but even then, he didn’t want to fuck, so I just reciprocated, and then he basically told me to leave. He had a meeting, so I get it, but it’s just…”
“Weird,” Daphne finished. She crossed her arms and looked down at the table, her mouth screwed to the side as she thought. “You don’t think Brian is, like… having an affair, do you?”
Justin snorted. “Is that even possible, considering how many random guys he fucks?”
“Not if he started fucking someone else more than once,” Daphne reasoned quietly. “I mean, you’re right. It’s not like him, but… if he’s healthy, then why else would he be less interested in sex with you? Why would he be so weirdly evasive about where he’s going?”
“He’s busy with work, I guess. He seems more tired than usual.”
Daphne nodded. “But Justin, he’s always busy with work. Are you sure there isn’t something you’ve missed?”
“Well… he brushed his teeth before he let me kiss him for real the other night,” Justin remembered. “And while that might just seem polite or whatever, he’s kissed me with gross morning breath thousands of times -- or after his tongue was just in--” Justin stopped as he watched Daphne’s expression change. “Nevermind. I just mean… Now that I think about it, yeah. It was strange. And the other morning, he got a bunch of texts, and got all weird when I glanced over at his phone.” Justin’s eyes widened and he let out a slow, uneasy breath. “Fuck, Daph. What if he is?”
Daphne’s brown eyes looked regretful, though whether it was because she was sorry she’d introduced the idea or because she truly believed it, Justin wasn’t sure. Daphne had always been one of his and Brian’s strongest supporters when it came to their relationship, so the fact that she’d suggested the possibility of infidelity made it feel all the more plausible.
“Do you have any idea who it could be, if he is?” she asked carefully.
Justin could feel tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. “Fuck if I know,” he mumbled, sniffling. He needed to pull himself together. There was no real evidence of Brian doing anything wrong, but it was getting too hard not to jump to conclusions when everything felt so off-kilter.
“Look,” Daphne said, putting a comforting hand on top of Justin’s. “Maybe you just need to talk to him. Call him out and point out that you’ve noticed how ‘off’ he’s been this whole time, and see what he has to say? He doesn’t lie to you, Justin. He might not tell you everything, but if you ask the right questions, he won’t sell you a complete line of bullshit either.”
Another wobbly sigh escaped before Justin whispered, “If he tells me it’s something like this, I’m not sure I want to know. I think I’d rather go on pretending. I’d rather have that much of him than nothing at all.”
It was Daphne’s turn to sigh as she gave Justin a mildly disappointed look. “Justin Taylor, you are better than that. You deserve more than that, and you just need to sit down with your boyfriend, or fiance, or whatever-the-fuck you two call each other now, and figure this out.”
Justin didn’t say anything, instead taking a long sip from his coffee mug to avoid having to look Daphne in the eyes. He knew she was right -- he and Brian just needed to communicate. They’d become much better at it over the last year or two, largely because of their distance. It was ironic that, now that they were back in shared space, Justin found it harder than ever to engage in an honest conversation when he needed to most.
At least Brian hadn’t warned him that he’d be home late that night, so maybe there was a chance they’d get to spend that evening together. For the time being, it was his only real hope.
***
Justin purposely stayed out a little later than he needed to, meeting Darren at Woody’s for a drink before heading back to the loft. Since Darren didn’t know Brian that well, and he and Justin had their own unrelated friendship, it was a nice distraction. Later, though, as he rode the elevator up to the top floor of Brian’s building shortly after nine, he could feel knots pulling tighter in his gut.
It appeared that Brian was already home, which was a pleasant surprise, but he was in the bathroom with the door closed, and Justin felt uncomfortable about interrupting him. Justin heard a buzzing sound as he passed the living room, and glanced down to see Brian’s phone on the sofa -- another surprise. It was an incoming text message, and though Justin couldn’t tell what the text said, nor would he violate Brian’s privacy by trying to unlock his phone, he could see the sender, and it made him raise his eyebrows.
Drew Boyd.
Justin let out a heavy breath. Why would Drew be texting Brian? They knew each other well enough, since Drew had become the de facto model for Brown Athletics, and obviously because of Drew’s relationship with Emmett, but they really didn’t spend much time together outside of either situation. It seemed unlikely that Drew was Brian’s mystery texter, so it made Justin all the more curious to know what he wanted.
When Brian came out of the bathroom, he was still dripping and had a towel around his waist, but when he saw that Justin was home, he smiled and started heading in his partner’s direction -- a good sign, as far as Justin was concerned.
Before Brian got to where Justin was standing, near the sofa, Justin smiled back and gestured at Brian’s discarded phone. “You have a message from Drew Boyd.”
Brian froze and the smile left his face almost immediately. “Why the fuck were you checking my phone?”
Taken aback, Justin frowned. “I wasn’t. Jesus. I got home and walked past the couch, and your phone buzzed. I looked down and saw Drew’s name.”
“So you were curious and read it?”
“What? No, I just--” Justin could feel his heartbeat speeding up and a knot developing in his stomach. “I was curious why he’d be texting, that’s all.”
Brian made it to the couch in two long strides, snatched his phone off of the cushion and then returned to the bedroom. “Mind your own fucking business,” he snapped over his shoulder.
“Brian,” Justin began, trying to suppress a nervous laugh. “What the fuck is your problem? I was just asking a question. I didn’t mean--”
“I don’t have a problem,” Brian interrupted irritably before ditching his towel and pulling on a pair of black jeans and his favorite faded chambray shirt. “I’m going out,” he continued once he was dressed. He grabbed his phone off the bed, pulled his leather jacket out of the closet and headed out of the bedroom. He glanced back briefly and they made eye contact -- Justin wondered if he saw the slightest glimmer of remorse in Brian’s eyes -- but Brian said nothing more than, “Don’t wait up,” and as he pulled the door shut behind him with one hand, Justin could see him activating his phone screen with the other, undoubtedly checking on the controversial text from Drew.
Justin wandered aimlessly around the loft for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what had just transpired. For all intents and purposes, Brian had appeared happy to see him at first -- presumably coming down to him for a hello kiss -- and, considering that Brian had been practically naked, possibly more. But the second Justin had mentioned Drew, everything had gone to shit, and it made absolutely no sense. Was it possible that Daphne’s speculation was correct and Brian was having an affair -- with Drew Boyd, of all people? As far-fetched as the idea seemed, it was honestly the only conclusion Justin could draw as far as why Brian would make such a big deal about any of this.
In the course of the time they’d all known Drew, Brian had never once commented on being attracted to him, wishing they could fuck, or even making any kind of attempt to sway Drew away from Emmett. While Brian’s code of conduct in the workplace didn’t exclude fucking colleagues or clients, his general rule in life kept him away from any sort of inappropriate involvement with his friends’ partners -- at least not at any point after said individuals were in any sort of committed relationship with said friends. If Justin really thought about it, though, Drew had high potential for being an exception. He was hot as hell, more wealthy than all of them combined, and had a confidence level that only rivaled Brian’s -- at least once Drew had come to terms with his coming out and embraced his life with Emmett. And based on what Justin knew of Drew’s relationship with Emmett prior to his divorce, he had no issues compromising a marriage in order to fulfill his sexual desires. While Brian and Justin hadn’t gone through with their wedding as planned, he figured that the majority of their gang still saw them as good as married, but Drew, a relative newcomer at the time might not have had the same idea -- or honor code. And if it was casual, maybe Brian didn’t see it as a problem. But then, in theory, he would’ve had no problem telling Justin about it -- or hell, even asking Justin to join them, if it was that good.
Justin finally sank down onto the bed, hot tears filling his eyes and making their way to his cheeks. Very little about his visit home had felt right so far, and as much as he’d tried to tell himself that it was nothing, this was the first thing that made any kind of sense. Fuck.
***
When Justin woke up, Brian was gone, but he didn’t know if it meant that Brian had come home, slept, and then left already, or if he’d never come back at all. After crying for the better part of an hour, Justin had given in to his own mental and emotional exhaustion and taken an Ambien, so either scenario had equal likelihood. The more he thought about the latter possibility, Justin realized he preferred not knowing.
Thursday was the day he’d reserved to spend with Jennifer, and before he even said a word, she could tell he was upset. Justin had planned to try to play things off as normal and try to enjoy the day with his mom, but the second he saw her concerned expression and she put a hand on his arm, asking what was wrong, he’d lost it, sobbing on her couch as she patted his leg and listened patiently while he told her what had happened and what he suspected.
“Honey,” Jennifer finally said when he’d finished talking and started making a pile of tissues as he wiped his eyes and face and blew his nose several times. “Do you really think that sounds like Brian? Justin, that man is loyal to you to a fault. He always has been.”
“Since when are you such a Brian advocate?” he muttered, despite desperately wanting to hang onto the truth of his mother’s words.
“He’s changed a lot in the last few years, sweetheart. Are you sure you aren’t overthinking things? It sounds like he’s legitimately busy at work…”
Justin sighed. “But even when he’s been busy in the past, he’s always found a way to make time for me -- for us. This time, it’s like my being here is a disruption.”
Jennifer frowned in the way she often did before saying something she was pretty sure Justin wouldn’t want to hear. “Honey, you did show up without warning. You know I always love to see you, and it was a wonderful surprise when you texted the other night to tell me you were in town, but I had to move things around to be able to spend today with you. I’m more than happy to do it, but I also have much more flexibility in my schedule. I don’t imagine Brian has the same luxury.”
Justin snorted. “He owns his own ad agency. He’s the fucking boss. He can do whatever he wants.”
“He owns a relatively young company,” Jennifer countered. “He’s worked incredibly hard to secure the clients he has, so deadlines matter. I know you know this, sweetheart. You were even telling me last week how you were a little worried because it seemed like Brian was spreading himself too thin. Did you think that would change?” Despite the bluntness of her words, Jennifer ‘s tone was gentle, so Justin found it hard to feel anything but guilty as he listened to her.
“Maybe I should have planned this with him. Or waited until later in the month, like we’d discussed.” He sighed again. “I just missed him so fucking much, Mom. His being so busy lately made it worse. And I guess I hoped that by my coming home, he’d feel just as relieved to see me.”
Jennifer nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry your visit hasn’t been what you hoped, but I’m sure Brian will make it up to you eventually. He probably feels badly that he can’t give you the time I’m sure you’d both like.”
“Unless he’s getting what he needs somewhere else,” Justin mumbled, still unable to shake the uneasy feeling surrounding the previous day’s text from Drew and Brian’s odd reaction.
“I’m sure you’re overthinking,” Jennifer said, patting Justin on the knee. “Now let’s take advantage of having a whole day to spend together and head up to those outlets!”
There wasn’t much use in spending the entire day wallowing over Brian when Jennifer was right -- he probably was busy, and Justin had a whole day of retail therapy at his fingertips, mostly funded by his mom, which made it even better. After today, he still had almost three days left in Pittsburgh, most of which was over the weekend, so hopefully he and Brian could finally find the time to reconnect then. In the meantime, he followed his mom out to her car, genuinely looking forward to their drive out to Grove City and the giant slice of peanut butter pie he hoped he’d manage to score before the day was done.
***
Unsurprisingly, Brian wasn’t home when Jennifer dropped Justin off at the loft and helped him carry his haul upstairs. They’d had an incredibly successful day of shopping, with Jennifer helping to practically double Justin’s winter wardrobe, along with buying him a new suitcase to lug it all back to New York. They’d also had a fantastic dinner near the outlets, where Justin scored his coveted slice of peanut butter pie from the quaint roadside tavern restaurant they’d been visiting since he was a child.
After Jennifer left, Justin took out his new outfits, arranging them on the bed so that he could show Brian their selections when he got home -- he knew that even though his clothing didn’t fall under Brian’s preferred designer labels, they were worlds above Justin’s usual baggy khakis and worn button-downs or tshirts, so they’d definitely be met with approval.
As the night got later, Justin had no interest in going out, wasn’t hungry, couldn’t find anything to watch on television, and didn’t feel inspired enough to sketch, so he moved over to Brian’s desk, figuring he could surf the web for a while and maybe look for a Netflix DVD to rent in hopes that Brian would want to hang out with him at least one of the next two nights.
While the computer booted up, Justin walked over to the kitchen and scanned the counters, finally settling on a half-full bottle of red wine. He pulled a stemless wine glass from the shelf next to the refrigerator and was in the process of granting himself a heavy pour when he heard the soft whooshing alerts of Brian’s iChat application loading his missed messages.
Fuck. Just what I need. For Brian to think I’m trying to spy on him, Justin thought, rolling his eyes as he re-corked the wine and carried his glass back over to the desk. He was grateful that he’d swallowed the first sip of wine he’d taken when his eyes registered on the screen -- four messages stacked on the left side of the screen, and unlike on Brian’s phone display, the text was plainly visible.
Michael Novotny
You’re unbelievable. Call me.
Drew Boyd
All set. Can’t wait.
Drew Boyd
Shit, you think he knows?
Drew Boyd
Meet me at 7:30. Team isn’t scheduled until 9.
Clearly Brian had replied to the messages from elsewhere, and it would have been easy enough for Justin to open the chat app and read the full exchanges for himself, but after being accused of violating Brian’s privacy more than once, he didn’t dare. He’d seen enough anyway. Despite that he’d finally seemed to convince himself that he was overreacting, the evidence right in front of him seemed to point blatantly to the contrary.
Brian was fucking Drew Boyd, he suspected that Justin knew, and he was going to continue it anyway. Apparently, meeting Drew was a regular thing, since there was little detail about their next scheduled rendezvous. And the message from Michael seemed odd on top of that. Had he found out too?
Justin felt numb. He quickly turned off the computer, no longer interested in doing anything that would further confirm his suspicions -- suspicions that were rapidly turning into a very probable reality. Was he supposed to confront Brian? Did Brian even want him there? Should he leave? As the numbness slowly wore off, a million different questions and possibilities started swirling through Justin’s brain. Before they could completely overwhelm him, he pulled out his phone and did the only thing that made sense:
“Daph? I think you were right…”
***
Though Daphne had been the one to introduce the idea of Brian having an affair, she seemed less inclined to want to believe it was true -- so much so that she agreed to meet Justin early the next morning so that he could wait in her car while they both watched Brian leave in his Corvette and head downtown.
“Let’s just see where he goes,” Daphne insisted. “Maybe then it’ll make more sense.”
“Maybe,” Justin said quietly, then took a sip from the coffee his best friend had brought. Justin could have kissed her for thinking of it, considering he’d barely slept the night before.
Brian had come home around midnight, and Justin had forced himself to pretend he was asleep, knowing that there was no way he could act “normal” if he had to face Brian directly. The two of them still hadn’t spoken more than a few words since two nights prior, when Brian had stormed out after Justin questioned the Drew text. Bearing that in mind, any sort of confrontation seemed like a bad idea. Since the bedroom lights were out, Justin chanced a look at Brian when he’d come out of the bathroom from showering, and he had looked exhausted, Justin had to admit, but he also found it hard to find sympathy for it, knowing that part of it probably had to do with Brian expending his energy while fucking someone else.
Daphne had arrived while Brian was still in the midst of his morning routine, so Justin had quietly dressed and sneaked out of the loft, jumping into the front seat of her car, which was parked at a discreet distance from the garage where Brian kept the ‘Vette.
“Fuck, he seems like he’s in a hurry,” Daphne commented, trying to keep up with Brian as he weaved in and out of traffic, trying to avoid the morning congestion on the Parkway North, finally taking the exit to cross the Fort Duquesne Bridge.
Justin took a look around their surroundings and his heart sank. “They’re meeting at the stadium,” he said, his voice flat. “I should have guessed. He said the team wasn’t scheduled until 9. Drew probably has some fucking cushy suite here, and that’s where they meet to fuck.”
At first, Daphne didn’t say anything, trying to keep her eyes on the road while also assessing her best friend’s state of well-being. Brian was definitely going to the stadium, and it was hard to come up with any other reason why he’d be meeting Drew at this hour. Justin was clearly still processing the situation, so Daphne drove around the surrounding streets, until she could find a free parking lot to pull into.
“What can I do?” she asked after she put her car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt so she could turn fully to face Justin.
Justin just shook his head, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. After a few seconds, he sniffled and said, “I wanted to believe I was making it up, but I just…”
“Maybe there’s another explanation,” Daphne tried when Justin was unable to continue his sentence. “Even with everything you’ve seen, this still doesn’t seem right. Brian loves you, Justin. He’s told you. Hundreds of times now. We all know that’s not something he takes lightly.”
Justin snorted, though it came out far too wet, and Daphne reached into her backseat for a box of tissues that she handed to him. He blew his nose, then gave her a skeptical look. “Brian doesn’t believe in love, Daph. He believes in fucking. He told me that on Day 2. I’m just the stupid fucking idiot who thought he could change that.”
Daphne sighed and put a hand on Justin’s arm. “I told you the other day that I think you need to talk to him. Maybe what we saw is exactly what it looks like, but what if it’s not? You need to know before you destroy yourself by making assumptions.”
There was a long silence between the two friends while Justin tried to pull himself together. He wanted to believe that there was another explanation for everything too, but seeing Brian’s Corvette turn into the stadium’s VIP lot spoke volumes. Putting that together with Brian’s odd behavior throughout the whole week -- not least of which included his minimal interest in anything Justin-related -- and the suggestive messages from Drew made it hard not to draw conclusions.
Justin knew that talking to Brian was the only thing left to do, because Daphne was right -- he needed to ask direct questions and let Brian answer them. But Justin was just terrified of what would happen if his suspicions were true and he and Brian had to determine how to navigate past this -- or if they even could. On one hand, it seemed ridiculous because he and Brian had fucked hundreds of other men throughout the duration of their relationship -- and both still could if they wanted. Even though Justin preferred not to engage in tricking these days, Brian was fully entitled to do so. What made it different was the potential repeat offenses. One of their hard and fast rules had been no repeats, no numbers. And obviously when the person you were fucking was also a “family” friend, it became a slightly different story. Brian would be in violation of Justin’s trust. And another relationship would be at stake too -- Emmett and Drew’s.
There was no easy way out of this.
“I’ll talk to him,” Justin said finally, releasing a heavy sigh. “But I can’t do that until later tonight. So what the fuck am I supposed to do until then?”
“Well,” Daphne said, harnessing all the enthusiasm she could manage. She gave Justin a goofy smile. “You spend the day forgetting about Brian and having a blast with your best friend!”
They both knew Justin wouldn’t be able to pull himself out of the anxiety and fear that surrounded his future with Brian, but he couldn’t help but huff a small laugh at his best friend’s antics and nodded. “Thanks, Daph. Where to next?”
***
Justin had to admit -- a day with his best friend was probably the best thing he could have done to keep his mind off of Brian and their impending conversation, but his anxiety was still at an all-time high, even as he tried to focus on staying present in the moment.
Daphne had suggested that, since they were already downtown, they spend the day pretending to be Pittsburgh tourists, so that’s what they did. After a breakfast of bagels and coffee while sitting by the fountain at Point State Park, they headed over to Station Square to take a trolley tour of the city. Justin had to admit that it was a cool experience, and that he learned a lot about the place where he’d spent the entirety of his life. Pittsburgh as an adult was definitely a completely different animal, and he found that he was developing a new cultural appreciation for how the city had developed, and thinking of more things he wanted to do or see on subsequent visits home. After the tour, they’d headed to the Strip District for Primanti’s sandwiches, and finished the day with a ride on the Duquesne Incline, Daphne insisting that they take a photo together at the top, so that Justin had a positive memory of the day, even if things didn’t go well later.
“Do you want me to take you back to Brian’s?” Daphne asked later, as they headed back toward the Liberty District, an uncomfortable silence settling back over them.
After a few minutes of staring out the passenger window, Justin said, “I think I wanna go to Babylon.”
“Jus, it’s, like, six o’clock. Isn’t it a little early for clubbing?”
“Not right this second. Sorry, I was thinking out loud.”
“I’m not about to tell you what to do, but do you really think that’s the best idea? What if you drink too much and then you go talk to Brian?” Daphne had a point, but Justin shrugged.
“Then at least I’ll have the balls to say what I need to say.”
With a hug and wish for good luck, Daphne left Justin at the loft, and he trudged upstairs, delaying the inevitable if Brian happened to be home earlier than expected.
The loft was empty, so Justin showered and changed into one of the sets of club clothes he’d brought, thinking he’d have far more use for them, had his boyfriend-turned-partner-turned-fiance-turned… whatever the fuck they were now been interested in spending time with him rather than fucking one of their friends. As it grew closer to nine o’clock, Brian still wasn’t home, so Justin tried to push down the knots in his stomach with two bottles of the beer that provided the only sustenance in the fridge.
Feeling a light buzz, he headed out a little after nine-thirty, hoping that he’d get to Babylon earlier than anyone else in their gang, so that he could dance and have a few drinks before he could run into anyone who might ask about anything Brian-related. The thought of finding someone to fuck briefly crossed his mind, but he also realized that, even if he stayed within the rules, it wasn’t a good look to come home immediately after, to confront his partner about fidelity -- or lack thereof.
Babylon as a means of avoidance, it turned out, was not as much fun as Justin remembered, and after two drinks, he started wishing someone he knew could be there -- someone who wouldn’t pry like Ben or Blake, though both of them came with counterparts who would have questions, and Blake rarely hit the clubs with them anyway. Justin danced with a few guys he didn’t recognize, turning down one’s offer to suck him off in the back room -- tempting as it seemed -- and was about to turn off of the dance floor when he finally spotted someone he knew. As recognition dawned, he smiled with relief and waved, only for his brain to connect the dots a few seconds too late.
It was Emmett. Fuck.
Before Justin could take back the greeting, he’d been spotted, and Emmett waved merrily, grinning widely as he headed toward him.
“Hey, Sweetie! Didn’t expect to see you out tonight without your man.”
Justin forced a smile, hoping that his eyes didn’t convey his real thoughts. Yeah, me too. Except my man has apparently been busy with yours.
“You too,” he said instead. “Drew’s not here?”
For a brief moment, Justin thought Emmett looked mildly panicked, but he just smiled again and shook his head. “Nope, just out by my lonesome tonight. Drewsie’s been keepin’ himself busy with a new project, so I’ve barely seen him these last few weeks!”
Justin bit his lip. “Same with Brian.”
And there it was, that uncomfortable look again. Did Em suspect something too?
“That’s what we get for choosing the high profile men, right?” Emmett continued, maintaining nonchalance. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Justin was well past tipsy, but he found he felt far less anxious about things that way, so he nodded. “Sure, thanks.”
A few seconds later, Emmett handed him another vodka tonic and held out his own Cosmo for a toast. “Here’s to us girls, out on the town while our boys are working hard!”
“You know they’re together, right?” Justin blurted, unable to control himself.
Emmett froze, his martini glass halfway to his mouth. “Where’d you hear that?” he asked sharply, though his tone was more nervous than angry.
“It doesn’t matter,” Justin said, then took an uncomfortable breath. Might as well try to get to the bottom of things sooner than later. “Em, are you and Drew… like is it just… or… do you both…um, tri--”
“Do we fuck other guys?” Emmett supplied, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to answer, but then laughed as if something had dawned on him. “Are you suggesting that Brian and Drew are fucking?”
Feeling and looking far less amused by the notion, Justin didn’t respond and refused to meet Emmett’s eyes.
“Sweetie,” Emmett said, his tone making it clear that he felt he was sharing the most obvious thing in the world, “even if that were a remote possibility… they’re both tops.”
Though Justin realized that Emmett’s reminder was intended to ease his mind, it only added another layer to his fears. Was Brian bottoming for Drew? It was bad enough to wonder if Brian was fucking around, but he hadn’t bottomed for anyone else since long before Justin had entered the scene. But Drew was hot, rich, powerful -- all the things Brian admired. Drew was probably the one person in their collective who outranked Brian’s success, so was that enough for Brian to submit to him?
It was as if everything hit him all at once -- combined with the too-loud music, rapidly descending drunkenness, and Emmett’s look of what almost seemed to be sympathy, which made absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever, and Justin had to get out of there immediately.
“I’ve gotta go, thanks for the drink,” he mumbled, downing the rest of his before slamming his glass onto the bar and making a beeline for the exit before Emmett could stop him or say anything else. Justin was starting to feel dangerously close to vomiting when, finally, he came in contact with the cool night air and was able to catch his breath enough for the nausea to subside.
The walk back to the loft was practically unbearable, and Justin couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild, his emotions wavering between fiery anger and unspeakable sadness.
It was still relatively early when he reached the loft door, barely past eleven, so Justin wasn’t expecting Brian to be home. There was even a good chance they’d barely missed crossing paths, going to and from Babylon, but instead, Brian was there, and, shockingly, he smiled when he saw Justin walk in -- until he registered the expression on Justin’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Brian asked, immediately on alert, and Justin almost started to cry on the spot. The fear and empathy on Brian’s face reminded him of how well Brian had taken care of him in the aftermath of the bashing. Back when he’d been attentive to Justin’s every move and need, and dropped everything to make sure he was OK.
The conversation they needed to have was important, though, and Justin couldn’t let himself get caught up in old emotions, pretending that this was a different time.
“We need to talk,” he managed to say, though not without difficulty.
Brian’s eyes widened marginally. “That’s never a promising start to the evening.”
He was barefoot, and dressed in a tank top and jeans, a fairly sure sign that he had been intending to stay home, and Justin briefly wondered what would happen if he ignored everything he’d seen that day and let Brian proceed naturally, but he had to force himself to focus -- as much as he could with his brain still swirling with anxiety and alcohol.
“I want to know what’s going on.”
“Pertaining to?” Brian tilted his head in confusion, though Justin wondered if he saw a flicker of concern. It was hard to tell, though, and Brian was already too good at concealing his emotions.
Justin recognized Brian’s tone -- nervous, disguised as mildly bored. And the attempt at indifference made his vodka-saturated blood boil. “Quit acting like you’re completely fucking clueless.”
The accusation came out before he could stop it -- it was not how he’d intended to start this discussion, but his decision-making faculties were not entirely within his control, so it was all or nothing.
Except now Brian looked genuinely perplexed. “OK, what the fuck are you talking about?” He didn’t wait for Justin to answer and turned toward the living room, sitting down on one side of the sectional sofa before looking at Justin expectantly.
“I’m not stupid, Brian.”
“I haven’t heard anyone argue to the contrary.”
Justin heaved a sigh and walked over to the sofa, but remained standing, facing Brian. It was a rare instance that gave him the height advantage, so he figured he had to use it while he could. “Well obviously you think I am. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I never should have come home this week, thinking you’d be happy if I surprised you. Then I wouldn’t have had to find out.”
Brian leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands steepled with his fingertips pressing into his forehead, as if praying for patience. “Find out what, praytell?”
“That you’re fucking someone else.”
“That I’m-- what??” Brian sputtered, his head springing up. “Are you new here? Since when have we not fucked other people?” He gave Justin an incredulous look, clearly on the verge of laughter.
“Obviously, since you haven’t had interest in fucking me since I got here,” Justin snapped. “But I guess you’ve had someone else taking care of that for you, so why the fuck would you need me?”
Brian raised an eyebrow. “First of all, why the fuck do you think I’ve been sitting at home, waiting for you tonight, rather than out painting the town myself? But aside from that, I still don’t know what you’re--”
“Drew. Boyd.” Justin said loudly, enunciating every word clearly. “How the fuck could you, Brian? And then acting like I have no idea what I’m talking about? First, you act like I’m a fucking hacker for noticing his name on your phone, then there’s the texts he sent after you told him I knew about your fucking… affair, and then you go off to meet him at Heinz-fucking-Field to have sex with him at fucking eight o’clock in the fucking morning?!”
“You’ve been spying on me?” Brian asked, his voice tight.
Justin practically recoiled at the words, momentarily seeing white. “That’s what you took from everything I just said?”
“No, Sunshine,” Brian sneered, the usually affectionate diminutive now full of venom, “I’m pretty sure I also heard you suggest that I’m somehow the fucking star of the homo version of Unfaithful, but I’m going to assume that’s coming from the fact that you’re obviously and completely shit-faced and have no idea what the fuck you’re even saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Justin snapped back, unwilling to back down. “You’ve been so fucking secretive this week, and all you ever say is you’re busy. Work’s soooo busy--”
“That’s because I AM fucking busy -- not fucking Drew Boyd, for Christ’s sake.” Brian paused, taking a deep, frustrated breath. “Justin, I’ve barely had time to fuck my own hand, let alone you or anyone else.”
“OK,” Justin said, trying to keep his tone measured. “Then explain where you’ve been and what you’re doing. And why you only seem to care about rushing off to Drew first thing in the morning, messaging him during the day, then not coming home til fuck knows when.”
Brian’s eyes rolled heavenward and then he sighed. “I can’t.”
“You won’t.” Justin’s words were clipped, an apparent role reversal from the times they’d been uttered before, in a different time and context.
“I won’t,” Brian capitulated, shrugging. He sounded tired.
“I don’t suppose you have an equally convincing reason for why I’ve practically had to beg for any kind of physical interaction with you?”
Brian glanced up at Justin. “I’m pretty sure I already told you.”
Justin didn’t look appeased. “I’ve been here every night this week.”
“Even if I’d had an ounce of energy left when I got home, it’s hard to fuck someone who’s already asleep.”
“Convenient,” Justin muttered with a snort. “You could have woken me.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Brian said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “There are things I can’t -- fine, won’t -- discuss with you. But the fact that you, of all people, have immediately jumped to this fucking asinine conclusion that I’m cheating on you because of an abysmally-researched assumption is completely beyond me.”
“Oh, so now you’re gaslighting me?” Justin’s voice rose with his anger at feeling like Brian was making fun of him. “I know what I fucking saw, Brian.”
Brian, however, was not about to take any further accusations sitting down, quite literally. “You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about or what you allegedly saw,” he finally exploded back, rising to his full height and glaring down at his partner. “I don’t owe you any explanations, because you’re not my goddamned fucking keeper, but just so we’re clear, I have never once broken our rules in the last six years. Not once. Can you say the same?”
Justin opened his mouth to respond, but realized there wasn’t much to say, and with his alcohol-induced courage starting to wear off, he could see that something else had bloomed in Brian’s expression before he’d stormed up to the bedroom ” hurt. Not only because Justin had been the one to break their rules ” first with the virgin trick from Daphne’s college party, then with Ethan, and then with Connor James, though Brian had given him a bit of a pass on that, considering the circumstances ” but because of Justin’s willingness to believe the worst of him. And while there were still a lot of unknowns, two things were now apparent: Brian was telling the truth, and Justin had just committed one of Brian’s worst fears.
Justin took a step back and looked down at his feet, running a hand through his hair. “Brian…”
“Save it,” Brian said shortly, wearing shoes and a button-down shirt as he came back down the steps. “I’m going out. And before you ask, it’s for a drink, not to fuck Drew Boyd or anyone else, for that matter. You’re welcome to follow at a discreet distance to be sure, since, I am unequivocally not to be trusted.”
He didn’t wait for Justin to respond before snagging his leather jacket from the back of the island barstool and storming out the door, slamming it hard behind him.
Justin knew better than to go after him, even if just to attempt to soothe things over ” he wasn’t sure he was ready, or really, in any physical condition to try ” and he knew Brian needed some space. He just hoped that later, they could have a more rational conversation that finally made some kind of sense.
At least Brian hadn’t told him to leave ” that much was a positive, but it was rare for him to be so outwardly mad at Justin. Brian rarely called out true indiscretions in their relationship, so Justin knew that his had stung his partner deeply. He also knew that, on some level, if he’d made false assumptions, he deserved Brian’s ire. Still, there was something Brian wasn’t telling him, and while he didn’t have the same sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he wasn’t overcome with relief either. He just felt more clueless than ever.
Knowing it would be awhile ” probably hours ” until Brian returned, if he returned, that was, Justin figured he needed to sober up and try to sleep. He took a long hot shower, took an aspirin, and chugged a bottle of water before finally starting to feel a bit more like himself.
Brian still wasn’t home around two, when Justin started to fight sleep, so the younger man crawled into bed, hoping that when he woke up, he’d find his partner sleeping next to him. The last thing Justin remembered, before his overwhelmed brain finally gave way to slumber, was the sound of the loft door rolling open, and the glow of the clock on the nightstand, just as his eyes drifted shut.
2:58 AM.
***
Brian was already out of bed when Justin woke up later that morning. It was later than Justin had intended to sleep, but even once he’d known that Brian had come home, he tossed and turned fitfully throughout the night, not really falling deeply asleep until shortly after dawn.
After using the bathroom, Justin headed toward the kitchen, spotting Brian at the dining room table, focused on something on his laptop. As Justin passed, he offered little more than a cursory glance before looking back at his screen. He’d left coffee in the pot, so Justin filled a mug and started heading back to the bedroom, figuring he should probably get ready and leave the loft for a while, to give Brian some space. However, after Justin passed for the second time, Brian’s emotionless voice rang out.
“Get dressed.”
It was the tone he used when he was not looking to broker a negotiation, so Justin figured he needed to thank his lucky stars that Brian was willing to talk to him, and do as he’d instructed.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting in Brian’s car, and he was heading toward the Fort Pitt Tunnel, though Justin had no idea where they were ultimately going to end up. Brian hadn’t said another word to Justin -- had barely even looked at him when he’d climbed into the passenger seat -- and had proceeded to turn on the local classic rock station to effectively eliminate the possibility of conversation.
As they continued to pass familiar locations, Justin’s mental list of possibilities narrowed further and further, until the last thing he could think of, which was the exit onto the road that would take them just across the West Virginia state line, where the house Brian had bought him was located -- except Brian had sold that house shortly after Justin decided to go to New York, or so Justin had thought.
Brian’s jaw was set, his expression grim as he continued driving, passing the exit for the house, and effectively eliminating the last of Justin’s guesses. The area was getting more rural around the highway, so there were few likely options remaining, but when Brian finally took the exit for Pittsburgh International Airport, Justin felt his heart leap into his throat.
Fuck, is he making me leave? Without my stuff? Justin thought to himself, though when Brian parked instead of heading to the Departures area, he felt a little bit of relief, but no more certainty.
“Why are we here?” he asked finally, as he followed Brian into the terminal and toward the security checkpoint, where they veered to a lane to the far left, and Brian quickly flashed two badges, receiving a nod of recognition from one of the TSA Agents checking them. Things were getting more and more peculiar as they continued, Justin struggling to keep up with Brian’s rapid gait.
Justin had no more answers by the time they stepped onto the people mover, but he noticed that Brian had started chewing on his lower lip -- a sure sign that he was nervous about something.
“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Justin asked quietly, taking advantage of the fact that the full car had pushed them fairly close together. Finally, Brian looked down and met his eyes.
“You’ll know in a minute.”
As they exited the train, Brian pulled out his phone, and didn’t go out of his way to hide the screen, allowing Justin to see, very clearly, that the text Brian was sending was to Drew Boyd.
The message was short and sweet. We’re here.
Before Justin could comment, Brian led him away from the platform exit and around to the other side of the station. They were standing in front of the plastic-obscured area that Justin had noticed when he’d flown in -- the area that had prevented both trains from being operational. They stood waiting, Brian glancing around, and Justin trying to quell the anxiety bubbling through his veins as unsuspecting passengers milled around them.
A moment later, the platform rustled and opened, and a woman Justin vaguely recognized gestured them inside the work area, pausing in a small plastic antechamber of sorts. “Brian, hi,” she greeted him, and he bent down to give her a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“Rhonda, I’d like to introduce you to my partner, Justin Taylor.”
Rhonda smiled brightly, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand to shake Justin’s. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Taylor. We’ve been admiring your art for weeks. You should be very proud.”
Rhonda? Rhonda McNamara. President of the Pittsburgh Art Council. What the fuck?
Justin felt like a deer in headlights, but fortunately, before he could cast Brian a look expressing just how confused and panicked he felt, his “gentile country club” sensibilities kicked in, and he smiled back.
“It’s so nice to meet you as well,” he replied, trying to glance beyond the next wall of plastic draping, to see what was back there.
“I’d love to chat with you,” she continued, “but Mr. Boyd is expecting you both. We’re very excited for our artist to see the exhibit.”
Exhibit?
When Justin looked up at Brian, he saw another nervous lip bite before Brian smiled almost shyly and looked back down at Justin. “So am I.”
A moment later, Drew walked into the small antechamber as well, greeting Brian with something of a bro-hug, and Justin almost laughed out loud with relief. They were definitely not fucking. Next, though, Drew turned to him and offered him an almost apologetic smile. “It’s great to see you, Justin. I hope this will help explain some things.”
Justin wondered just how much Brian had shared, or if Em had said anything after putting the dots together at Babylon, but before he could say anything further, Drew pulled back the plastic.
“Come on in.”
Surprisingly, before they stepped forward, Brian took Justin’s hand, seeming to need the comfort as much as Justin did, and then he took the first step forward, leading Justin into the space, then stepping back so that Justin could have a good first look.
In all of Justin’s mental gymnastics, as he’d tried to figure out why Brian was being so secretive, something like this had never once been a consideration. His mind reeled at a million miles a minute as he tried to take in his surroundings. The entire wall of the station was now outfitted with floor-to-ceiling artwork -- his artwork -- in the form of an abstract of the Pittsburgh skyline that he’d completed the year before. It wasn’t anything he’d submitted anywhere, or really even shown many people, except--
“Did you do this?” Justin asked, turning to look at Brian, who was now standing beside him, watching him with trepidation as he waited for a reaction.
“Do you like it?” Brian asked in response, his eyes still searching Justin’s for some sort of confirmation.
“Oh my god,” Justin breathed. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m… really fucking lost, honestly, but… this is… incredible.” He took another look at the length of the wall, amazed at the sheer scale of his artwork, along with the vibrancy they were able to infuse into the colors he’d painstakingly placed onto canvas in his tiny New York studio, almost as a form of therapy when he was feeling lonely and wistful for the city that had made him into the person he was -- and, in particular, the people that city still contained. He looked back at Brian, the emotion of it all starting to catch up with him. “How did you do this?”
Brian was clearly feeling emotional himself, though he was trying much harder to keep it at bay, and had to clear his throat. “Earlier this year, when I was coming back from visiting you, I saw that they were issuing a call for local artists to submit compositions depicting Pittsburgh through their own eyes, and I remembered that you had shown me this,” Brian gestured at the wall, “a few months back, and that it was… completely fucking exquisite, but it was sitting on an easel in your studio, which is far from where it belonged…”
Brian’s voice was barely audible as he spoke, so Drew, sensing the difficulty, stepped forward and jumped in. “During one of our meetings with Brown Athletics, I had mentioned that I was trying to diversify my community involvement, to raise awareness outside of the sports world, and had taken a position as a Board Member for the Pittsburgh Arts Council, so Brian asked me to get more information about the project.” Drew looked to Brian, who nodded once in affirmation, so Drew continued speaking. “As I learned more about the project and loved how it represented the city, I offered to sponsor its production--”
“But that’s not why--” Justin began, starting to feel uneasy.
“No,” Brian cut him off quickly. “Neither Drew nor I were involved in the selection in any way. I was able to acquire the correct formatting to provide your submission, and since I’m not the original artist, Drew was able to vouch for its authenticity prior to the jurors reviewing the art.”
“We used a blind jury,” Rhonda added, joining the conversation. “Members of the local art community, some folks from the Carnegie Museum, faculty from PIFA, people who work with Pittsburgh tourism, and some local government members. Your art was selected nearly unanimously, and wholly on its own merit, Mr. Taylor.”
Brian’s eyes were shining as he looked down at Justin. “Congratulations. You did this.”
A myriad of emotions swirled through Justin as he tried to process everything he had learned in the past fifteen minutes. Part of him was absolutely elated to see something he’d created with his own two hands become, quite literally, larger than life. Having something featured in the Pittsburgh International Airport was huge and literally every single person who flew into the city would see his work on display -- would see his name and know what he could do. The thought itself was completely overwhelming. Another part of him was overcome with emotion and love for Brian -- that he would do something so incredibly meaningful for his partner, not even fully knowing what Justin’s reaction would be. But there was also suddenly a part of him that felt sickeningly atrocious, remembering the horrible and inaccurate accusations he’d made as he’d assumed the worst of his partner. He owed Brian a huge apology, and he had no idea how he’d ever adequately make it up to him.
“This is where you’ve been?” he asked quietly. Brian reached out and squeezed his hand before he replied, so Justin realized that he must’ve seen the guilt in his eyes.
“The exhibit will be unveiled next month, so we had anticipated you seeing it for the first time when you were scheduled to come in a few weeks. When you showed up this week, it -- Sunshine, you really threw us into a bit of a tailspin,” Brian admitted, chuckling lightly. “I’d already been meeting with Drew and the coordination team regularly, but--”
“Fortunately,” Drew continued, “I was able to speak with the team and we were able to expedite some things, but both Brian and I had to be onsite to oversee some of the decisions, since he was acting on your behalf, and I was, well,” he smiled sheepishly, “I honestly didn’t do much beyond signing the checks, but I wanted to make sure I was involved as much as possible with the installation, especially knowing it was yours, and how much this meant to Brian -- and Emmett. He’s really proud of you too.”
Justin’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. Of course Emmett would have known with Drew being so closely involved. Likely Ted and Cynthia too. He wondered if his mother had known as well.
“We’d love for you to take a closer look at the exhibit and offer any input you’d like as we finalize the project, since you’re aware of its existence much earlier than anticipated, but before that, Mr. Taylor, there’s one additional detail,” Rhonda said, clasping her hands in front of her with anticipation.
Before she could say anything further, Justin glanced at Brian and Drew and saw them smiling, both clearly aware of what was coming next.
“The original intent of the exhibit was to feature three artists, but when the jury selected your submission, they agreed that having the size and continuity of such a magnificent piece that so beautifully depicts our city would be the best use of the space,” Rhonda explained. “As such, you are entitled to the full prize.”
“Prize?” Justin squeaked, his shock apparent.
“Technically, it’s a stipend,” Rhonda said, smiling. “As I’m sure you’re aware, as an artist, you’re entitled to compensation for the use of your work. As this exhibit will be on display for a minimum of three to five years, each artist was to receive a $25,000 stipend. Since you’ve effectively been chosen to represent all three positions, you’re entitled to the full $75,000 in stipend money.”
“Holy fuck.” The words left Justin’s mouth before he could think better of it, country club upbringing be damned, but the other three simply laughed, and then Brian wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“You deserve it, Sunshine,” he murmured in Justin’s ear.
“Are you-- are you sure?” Justin asked, looking at Rhonda as if she’d made a mistake.
Rhonda simply nodded her head. “Mr. Taylor, all familiarities aside, this is a professional exhibition wherein your art, as well as your name and image, will be on display for several years. While you’ll retain the copyright to your artwork, we will need you to sign a number of legal documents pertaining to its display in the airport prior to the official announcement and unveiling. This would be the case for any other artist.”
Justin nodded. “I understand. I just… can’t believe it. I’ve never made this much on anything I’ve sold. And this isn’t even the canvas.”
Drew grinned. “Just think how much you could get for the original in a few years’ time!”
An arm tightened around Justin’s waist, and he glanced up to see Brian smirking down at him before he turned his attention on Drew. “Trust me, I’ll outbid any schmuck who even tries.”
***
They didn’t make it back to Brian’s until several hours later, after Justin had spent some time with the coordination team responsible for the art installation, offering input on some final touches, and then they’d joined Drew and Emmett for a late lunch at one of Justin’s favorite Mexican restaurants, that happened to be on the way home, Brian declaring that Justin deserved a celebratory margarita. Though Justin worried that lunch would be an awkward affair, considering all of his misconceptions during the prior week, it was very much the opposite, and the happiness and pride he felt warmed him from within.
Justin felt like he was walking on air as he entered the loft, and he waited until Brian closed and locked the door before he leaped at him, finally claiming the kiss he’d been wanting since learning the news. Brian kissed him back just as eagerly, and walked him back toward the couch as their lips continued to move in well-practiced rhythm.
“No, bed,” Justin mumbled, intending to pull back only long enough to protest, but Brian stopped entirely.
“Not so fast.” He left Justin standing near the sofa and walked back over to the kitchen, pulling bottles of beer and water out of the refrigerator, then handing the latter to Justin when he returned. “We should talk about something,” he said, sitting down and gesturing for Justin to do the same.
Suddenly, Justin felt his heart in his throat again. The euphoria of the early afternoon had almost made him forget about the week prior -- particularly the night before -- and the sudden seriousness in Brian’s voice made it all come crashing back.
“Brian I’m so sor--” he began, but Brian held up a hand to stop him.
“Not that,” he said, but then sighed. “Well, we should talk about that, but that’s not what I meant.”
“OK,” Justin said, watching Brian carefully.
“I need to know something,” Brian began, then pressed his lips together. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath before he continued, making Justin feel like he’d somewhat planned out what he wanted to say, and that he was apprehensive about bringing it up.
“Anything,” Justin offered, hoping it would come across as encouraging, and that it meant he’d actually like what was coming next.
Brian sighed, then looked Justin directly in the eyes before asking, “Are you happy in New York?”
It was a question Justin wasn’t expecting, and definitely wasn’t prepared to answer. “I-I mean… it’s… yeah, I guess?” he stammered.
Brian nodded, back to biting on his bottom lip. “What do you like?”
Justin reached out and took the hand that wasn’t holding Brian’s bottle of beer. “Why are you asking this?”
“It’s just a question,” Brian said, shrugging -- a sure sign that it was anything but.
The couch creaked as Justin shifted, setting his bottle of water on the table to buy time as he contemplated his response. “It’s New York,” he began. “Parts of it are fucking amazing. You know that. You love it too. I love the neighborhoods and the food, I love all the things there are to do… It’s just… a feeling, I guess. The energy, you know?”
“I do,” Brian replied, placing his beer bottle next to Justin’s water. “Is there anything you don’t like?”
Justin snorted. “The main thing is that you’re not there.”
Brian allowed himself a small but clearly fond smile, before asking, “Anything else?”
“It’s expensive as fuck, and I’ll have to sell several hundred more paintings at top dollar to be able to afford a bigger apartment or studio. And the art world is fucking competitive, so it’s not nearly as easy to ‘break onto the scene,’ like that fucking Simon Caswell insisted. I’ve been busting my ass for almost three years now, and I still don’t feel like I’m all that much further ahead.”
“It takes time,” Brian offered. “And I’ve said that if you needed--”
“And I’ve said,” Justin interrupted, knowing exactly what Brian was going to say, “that I don’t want your money. If I can make it there--”
“You’ll make it anywhere?” Brian deadpanned, glancing amusedly at him.
“That too,” Justin laughed, “but I was going to say, it has to be on my own.”
“I respect that,” Brian admitted. “As much as I hate it -- and only because I know I could help.”
“I mean…” Justin raised an eyebrow. “You could join me there a bit more permanently…”
Brian reached up to cup Justin’s cheek affectionately, but then shook his head. “Sorry, Sunshine. Kinnetik’s not even five years old. As well as we’re doing, we’re still small fish in a big pond. The second we’re ready to play with the sharks on Madison Avenue, I’ll pay for the whole fucking staff to relocate, but sadly, the time is not now.”
“I know.” Justin gave him a sad smile, feeling like they’d somehow reached an early stalemate in the conversation, before Brian said one of the last things Justin expected to hear.
“What if you moved back to Pittsburgh?”
It was the first time Brian had ever suggested that he’d even wanted Justin to come home permanently since the decision had been made, right before they called off their engagement. With several years already under his belt, Justin had figured it wasn’t even an option -- that the next time they would have a chance to be together in the same city, Brian would be the one making the move.
“I-I… would you want that?” Justin’s brain suddenly felt like mush as he contemplated the new possibility. It actually made a lot of sense. He’d be saving a ton of money on rent, even if he insisted on contributing to Brian’s expenses. He’d be back around the friends and family he missed so desperately -- friends in New York came a dime a dozen, and very few of the crowd he’d met were reliable on any kind of consistent basis. He had a handful of people he could go out with for coffee, drinks, or dancing, but when he truly needed to have a heart-to-heart with someone who knew him inside and out, he had to call Daphne, Brian, his mom, or any number of his chosen family members in Pittsburgh. Plus, he could invest in putting together a real art studio--
Brian’s voice cut into his thoughts when he answered Justin’s question, its sudden hoarseness catching his attention, and when Justin looked up at his partner, he swore he could see tears in Brian’s eyes. “It’s all I’ve been wanting. The only thing.”
“Why haven’t you said anything?” Justin asked, immediately feeling guilty when he realized that he sounded a little accusatory. Brian didn’t seem to take offense, though, and just shrugged.
“Because it’s not for me to tell you where you belong or where you’re happiest. If New York is where you want and need to be, then you have my wholehearted support in any way you’ll accept. But I guess I hoped that…” he paused, letting out a slow, shaky breath. “I hoped that, once we knew you’d won the Art Council show -- because that’s- that’s fucking huge with the exposure it’s going to create -- you’d realize that you could be just as successful painting in Pittsburgh as the Big Apple. If that’s what you wanted.” He looked down and ran the tip of his thumb along the lower lid of his left eye, then looked back up at Justin with a watery sniff. “And… if you did decide to come home, then someday, down the road, when we’re both ready, we could conquer New York City together.”
Justin couldn’t help the tears brimming in his eyes, and he felt one trickle down each cheek as he leaned forward and took Brian’s face in both hands, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “I know exactly where I belong, Brian,” he said when they separated. “I belong wherever you are. Like I told Lindsay three years ago -- I can paint anywhere. New York wasn’t my opportunity of a lifetime, you were. Are. Will always be.”
Their lips met again, and Justin was almost sure that he felt the soft huff a sob in Brian’s breathing, but they just held each other tightly, reality starting to set in -- finally, they would be together again. And not just once or twice a month, when they could swing a visit, but all the time. Justin’s relief was palpable. Living in New York, yeah, he could visit Pittsburgh anytime, but what he’d really been missing was having Brian with him on a regular basis. And he’d missed it so much, he realized, that he’d allowed it to fuck with his brain and put his insecurities into overdrive.
“What?” Brian asked, seeming confused when Justin broke their kiss and pulled back. “You’re not having second thoughts already, are you? We haven’t even started making arrangements.”
Justin shook his head, though his expression was solemn. “No, but there is something I need to make right before we do anything else…”
Brian looked down, tongue in cheek, clearly feeling uncomfortable about this digression, but he simply nodded and waited for Justin to continue.
“There’s no excuse for what I said to you yesterday -- or anything I considered over the past few days. I had no right--”
“That’s not entirely fair,” Brian argued, shaking his head. “I didn’t give you much to go on. I can understand why you’d start to wonder what the fuck I was up to.”
“Maybe,” Justin agreed, “but I took it to a place that was completely inappropriate and unfair.” He paused long enough for Brian to look back up at him. “You’re right. I’m the one who’s broken the rules -- probably more times than I deserve to be forgiven, but you always do.”
Brian sighed. “Justin--”
“No,” Justin whispered, cutting him off. “I did something that I swore I never would. Every time I’ve seen someone else in your life do it to you, I’ve always said to myself, you’ll never be that person to him. But I did it. I know you better than almost anyone, and still, because I was so fucking insecure, I assumed the worst of you. You didn’t deserve that, I was completely fucking wrong, and I’m so sorry. I know you think sorry’s bullshit, but it’s what I have for right now, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
The expression on Brian’s face was unreadable as he processed Justin’s apology, along with the demonstration of clear and accurate insight into his psyche. Finally, he reached out and took Justin’s hand.
“I know. And it did fucking hurt, but… I know I hurt you too by keeping you out, especially when you did plan what would have otherwise been a fabulous surprise.”
“I should have told my mom -- I’m assuming she knew?” Justin guessed.
Brian nodded in confirmation. “She knew. And Emmett, obviously. And Theodore and Cynthia. And I told Mikey the other day, but that’s all. I didn’t want to risk anyone telling you prematurely,” he added with a smirk.
Justin grinned back. “I guess we’re both good at ruining surprises.”
“Maybe so,” Brian shrugged. “But fortunately, we’ll have many more opportunities to get better at them… among other things.”
“I’d say we’re pretty good at plenty of things already…” Justin mused playfully. “Which reminds me of something you mentioned last night…”
Brian’s face sombered a bit. “I meant what I said. You’re the only person I’ve had any physical interaction with this week. I was just so fucking keyed up about trying to make everything perfect so you could see the exhibit before you left. The reason I was so late the first night was because we’d had a planning meeting to go over the final timeline, but since they do a lot of work after-hours, the meeting didn’t even start until ten o’clock. And then when I came home, and you were here, it was just like, oh fuck. I was having to meet Drew early to go over a new plan, so that he could convey my decisions to the team, and then I’d have to sit in parkway traffic out to the airport after work, trying to go see everything for myself. It was a total clusterfuck, and by the time I’d get home, it was almost a relief that you were asleep, because I was so fucking exhausted, but I did miss you..”
Justin leaned in and kissed Brian softly. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you were willing to go to such extreme lengths for me.”
“Well, I promise you. My extreme length has been wanting you all week, for the record,” Brian said, his voice taking on a seductive tone as he gently placed Justin’s hand in his lap for confirmation.
“I see that,” Justin purred back, his fingers caressing Brian’s denim-covered crotch. “And I’d hate to keep it waiting.”
An hour and a half later, they were lying side-by-side in bed, both flushed, but finally feeling happy and complete.
“That was amazing,” Brian murmured, glancing over at Justin out of the corner of his eye.
Justin hummed his own affirmation, enjoying the familiar ache that usually accompanied proper reunion sex with Brian. “And we still have about twenty-four hours before I have to leave, so…”
“We’re just getting started,” Brian finished. Their eyes met fully, and they both grinned.
“In more ways than one.”
As they rolled back together, ready for whatever came next, Brian leaned close to Justin’s ear.
“Welcome home, Sunshine.”