As Justin walked around Central Park he couldn't help but think about if Brian were there. They had decided that once Justin moved they were going to try and stay connected. It didn't work well. Their relationship was already so unusual that distance made it all worse.

Brian couldn't stop thinking about how Justin was going to find a man his own age and fall in love. A man that was immediately willing to give him everything he wanted. There was twelve years between the two of them and that complicated it more than they liked to believe.

And to be honest Justin felt the same way. He loved Brian more than he ever thought was possible and wanted to be with him, but the distance wasn't something that they were able to do.

At first Brian flew to New York at least twice a month to visit. He'd stay in a nice hotel and bring Justin to stay with him. They'd spend four days in the hotel room fucking and just being happy that they were together again. But once Kennetik started to get even larger it got harder for Brian to get away. For a while he thought he'd open up a branch in New York and be able to work from there most of the time and maybe even live in a Manhattan condo with Justin. Married and happy.

"Brian Kinney. Leave a message."

"Hello," Justin started speaking into Brian's voicemail, "it's Justin, obviously. Haven't talked to you in a while. Just wondering if you were planning on coming into the city again anytime soon? If you do just give me call and we can see each other again.

Wow, you're gonna start listening to this and just delete it. Or maybe you'll see it's a voicemail from me and not even listen to it. Oh, well, I'm just gonna keep talking.

I thought maybe in a few weeks I'd head back to Pittsburg for a few days. My rent is insane, but I finally saved up enough to be safe to head back for a week or so. I really want to see you again.

I know what we agreed last time you were here, but I really need to see you. God, I sound like such a little faggot. This is actually embarrassing and you've seen every side of me.

Ha, I'm in Central Park and I just passed that spot where we almost got caught by NYPD fucking in the middle of the day. Remember that? I'm so glad you're able to really think on your feet at those moments. I would have gotten us thrown in jail.

I wish you were here right now. It's been a year, right? Yeah, it's been about an entire year since I've even talked to you. Since you won't answer any of my phone calls. Just once I wish you'd pick up. I know that you don't want to talk to me. Probably think I'm just some kid wanting all of your attention like when we first met. You hated me and couldn't even remember my name.

That first night. That night was so amazing with you. And every night that we had after that. I know you hate me saying this, but I really do still love you Brian. I'll never stop. Just because we didn't end up exchanging vows in front of all of our friends doesn't mean I didn't take one. Maybe we weren't meant to get married and have a family, but we were meant to love each other for the rest of our lives and I just wish that you'd pick up your mother fucking phone and talk to me! I know that you see it's me and don't answer. Trying to avoid me and be mean to me. It's never worked, Brian, and it's not going to start working now.

I know Michael is there to make sure you take care of yourself, for the most part, but you know that as soon as something traumatic and major happens to you I'm the only one that can help and you won't return my phone calls.

When I get to Pittsburg in a couple weeks you're not going to be able to avoid me. I will get you to talk to me."

"Voice mailbox full."

"Dammit," Justin cursed hitting the end call button on his iPhone. He hadn't said everything he needed to say during that call and now he'd have to wait at least twenty-four hours before Brian would erase the message and he could continue. He could try and call back, but there was no point. He couldn't leave a message and he knew Brian wasn't going to answer his call.



"Who was that," Michael asked bringing Brian another beer at Woody's.

Brian snapped out of his dazed state and back to Michael. "Uh, no one. Not important."

Brian listened to that voicemail twenty times before he forced himself to delete it. He missed Justin too, but it wasn't going to work with the two of them in different states.

In his half-drunk state Brian mindlessly dialed Justin's phone number and brought the phone to his ear.

"Justin Taylor. You know what to do."

"Hello," Brian started, "returning your call. I just spent my night with the happy married straight couple of Michael and Ben. I should be fucking some random hot piece of ass right now to get that image out of my head.

But since you seemed so upset that I hadn"t called back or we haven't talked in a while. God, I sound like a douche. And we agreed that we wouldn't try to hold onto what we needed to let go of.

You can't keep running back to your first fuck when there's a whole city of boys ready to get fucked or are willing to fuck you. Forget about me.

We had some great times. What a fucking cliche. We had some really amazing fucks. In numerous places including that time in Central Park where you were caught with your pants down.

And I know that just because we didn't say our vows doesn't mean we aren't still sticking to them. I've been following our original agreement since you left. Home by three. No names or numbers. Never the same guy twice. I haven't even kissed another man. It became habit and I just never went back, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't.

You're still a child and want so much out life. Things that I don't know if I can give you anymore. We had our chance and it passed when you moved. Yes, we had more great times together at The Plaza and Central Park. I almost moved my entire company, but then we might have both been unhappy.

If you try and hold on to what we had, even after all the shit we went through, you're going to miss out on life and you shouldn't do that. I told you I couldn't marry someone who compromised who they were just to be with me.

And Justin . . ."

"Voice mailbox full. If you are satisfied with your message please hang up. If you would like to re-record your message press pound. To delete your message press star."

Brian looked down at his phone for a moment then pressed star.

He couldn't confess all of that to Justin. He just couldn't. He still loved him more than he knew he could love in the first place, but he wasn't going to let him continue chasing him.

The next morning Justin woke up and went about his normal morning routine. He didn't even think to look at his phone assuming Brian still wanted nothing to do with him and he'd be greeted with zero messages from anyone. So he didn't look and just continued to get ready for the day. Which consisted of nothing but downing a bottle of wine while he painted a giant canvas in his little work space in Hell's Kitchen.

He had started learning to sketch again and his work space walls were covered of sketches of Brian. The one time that he brought a man home they stopped at the work space first and he saw all of the sketches of Brian. He didn't last much longer than a really quick fuck. Justin found himself getting drunk and high more than he used to as time went on. He missed Brian and hated that they weren't talking.

Everything he did had something to do with Brian. If he could just hear his voice he thought that maybe he'd be cured and would be able to draw something else and not freak men out when seeing his work space filled with sketches of another man in very compromising positions.

After about three hours working and a half bottle of wine Justin finally looked at his phone and saw he had a missed call from Brian. He quickly fumbled through unlocking his phone and seeing if there was a voicemail left for him. No. Justin wrote it off as a butt dial and put his phone down again.

"Brian Kinney. Leave a message."

"Hello," Justin began, "Why did I call you again? Probably because I'm drunk and covered in paint and you called me last night. If you called me on accident then disregard this message. Not like you actually listen to me babbling on like a lovesick teenager like I used to. If you'd answer your phone once in a while we wouldn't have this problem. Brian, I just want to talk to you. So bad. Please answer me. Please. Please.

Why won't you talk to me? Just to say 'hi,' nothing more than that. I know that you never really forgave me for what I did in the past or suggesting that we just stop. But I was wrong, Brian. And I still love you. I want you. I don't want any of these other New York guys who think they're better than me. It's so hard trying to find a man that wants more than just a quick fuck. I had more than fucking with you and I want it back. You're the only man that I ever really loved, Brian.

Why did you call me? Did you want to talk to me? Why didn't you leave a message when I didn't answer?

You know the last time I tried to have a relationship with a man I brought him back to my work space downtown and right after I shoved my dick in his ass he ran out because I can't stop drawing you. Your face is covering the walls of my work space because I can't stop thinking about you.

I haven't been able to get into a show because apparently drawing your ex-boyfriend fucking you isn't what people want to see. It's just art imitating life. Anyways, before I completely make a fool out of myself by rambling into your voicemail while drinking and painting I'm gonna go. I love you," Justin said and hung up the phone. He went back to his painting of a green corvette and his second bottle of wine.



Brian sat on his couch in his office listening to Justin's voicemail on repeat. Cynthia walked in just as Brian started playing the voicemail on speaker for the tenth time. She quickly turned to leave, but Brian stopped her.

She knew that since Justin left Brian hadn't been himself and he needed to be pulled out of this slump he had gotten in. He was coming to work high, which is something Brian Kinney would never have done before Justin left. So she made some calls and got a company with a corporate office in Manhattan to agree to sit down with him as a potential new account. Thankfully they were adamant about meeting in Manhattan, where Justin lives.

So Brian was off to Manhattan in a few hours. Cynthia was praying that being in the city might make him at least call him and talk to him. She had known Brian Kinney for a long time and knew her plan was more than a long shot, but she couldn't take him like this for much longer.

She arranged for Brian to be staying in a hotel relatively close to where Justin lived in hopes they'd see each other and at least fuck.

Brian got to Manhattan and as soon as he stepped out of the town car he took into the city he saw an all too familiar head of blonde hair. He watched where this kid was walking and followed allowing the bellhop to take his things to his room.

As the kid walked up the stoop into his building Brian saw his face. It was exactly who he thought it was. He stood there not sure if he should follow or call Cynthia and scream at her for trying to manipulate him into seeing Justin again.

He took out his phone ready to dial Cynthia's number as he walked slowly to the building Justin had just entered.

"Justin Taylor. You know what to do."

"Hello," Brian said into the phone, "I don't know why I'm calling you. Considering I'm sober this time. Um, probably because in all those messages you leave me you always tell me to call if I'm ever in New York. Well, Cynthia made sure that I had to come into town for this new account.

I think I just saw you walk into your apartment building. Fuck! I am perfectly fine on my own. Why does everyone feel like I need to talk to you? You weren't the only thing in my life that made me happy.

I loved fucking and doing drugs and drinking and dancing at Babylon and now everyone treats me like some fucking lovesick teenager because you left! You left! You moved to New York! You don't get to call me every fucking day and tell me how much you love me! I'm fine without you. I was perfectly fine before you came into my life and I'll be fine without you in it too.

I flew to Manhattan three times a month to see you. I wanted to marry you and be together for the rest of our lives. You were the one who left. You're the one that said we should stop trying because it wasn't working with us in two difference places. After five years I was finally willing to give you everything you wanted. A home. A husband. You left, which I was fine with. You needed to go off to New York and try to make it as an artist. It's time to move on."

Voicemail box full to...

"Fuck," Brian screamed and threw his phone down on the sidewalk. After a few seconds, he picked up his phone and started back to his hotel.

Upstairs Justin heard a man scream on the street, nothing unusual in New York, but he went to his window and saw a man walking away from his building noticeably upset about something. He looked closer at the way the man moved as he walked away. "Brian?"

Justin thought for a moment before running down the stairs and out onto the street chasing after Brian. Or who he thought was Brian. He couldn't be sure, but by the time he had gotten out of the building he had lost sight this mysterious man. He had no idea if it was Brian or if he was just imagining things again.

So he went back upstairs and turned his phone back on after vowing not to call Brian while he painting and drunk again.

He saw he had a few missed calls. His mother. Daphne. Brian? And one voicemail. He almost dropped the phone when he saw that Brian had left a voicemail. It wasn't like him. That had to mean it wasn't a butt dial. Maybe none of them were butt dials, but he called and didn't leave a message.

He sat and listened to the message for almost an hour. Brian was there in New York. It was him outside the building. It had to have been. He went back outside to see if Brian had changed his mind and walked back to his building.

"Brian Kinney. Leave a message."

"Hello," Justin started softly, "I got your message. I saw you running away from my building. I thought Brian Kinney never ran away. And I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't be calling you every day.

It took five years, but you were willing to give me everything I wanted. You. Only you and a life together. In that fucking mansion, you bought. You know most guys get a ring when their boyfriend proposes. I got a country manor with stables and a pool.

It's extremely cliche, but I guess I almost appreciate everything you ever did for me more now. And I knew then that you were the only one willing to do all those things for me. You saved me. More than just at prom. After this, I promise I'll stop calling every day and bothering you.

Of course now I know that you listen to every message I leave. Which is kind of sweet and cute. Two things I know that you don't want to be. You should have called my name when you saw me. I want to see you even if it happens to be the very last time that I do. At least I'd get to see you face again. With that stupid smug grin plastered on it. Because no one will ever measure up to Brian Kinney.

I'm gonna try to leave you alone from now on. You don't want to talk to me and that message really proved it. I just miss you and it gets worse when I'm drinking. I know that I wasn't the only thing that made you happy, but I like to think I made you happier. This will be the very last message I leave you I promise. I'm just gonna say it one more time. I love you."



Brian listened to the message from inside his hotel room. Justin had seen him. He almost wanted to go back and try and talk to him but knew that they'd end up fucking instead of talking.

He would never actually admit it to anyone that he wanted Justin back. That he still wanted to marry him because he loved him so much. He was sure he'd never stop loving Justin. He was the only man Brian ever fully trusted or let see the more sensitive side of himself. The side of himself that was scared of cancer. That loved more than anything. Justin knew him better than he would ever let anyone else.

"Justin Taylor. You know what to do."

"Hello," Brian started, "You're right. I don't run away. Of course you know that. I just didn't know if I could see you right now. That's why I don't answer your calls.

Justin, I just want you to be happy by yourself. You made it out of Pittsburg and are now living in one of the greatest cities in the world. Enjoy it. You're not tied down in Pittsburg with some 38 year-old man. You are free to do whatever you want.

I know that with every day that passes it risks us never seeing each other again, but that's fine. We don't need all of that shit; living together, rings, constantly saying 'I love you' to know what's there. So this is officially 'it'. No more. We can't keep holding on to the past. We've both got to move forward with our lives and forget about each other. Our chance has come and gone and it's not going to come back.

And Justin?

I love you."

Brian hung up the phone and stared at the wall in front of him. He never thought he'd end up really finishing everything with Justin. He knew it was time. He had been holding on too. Hoping that someday Justin would come back to Pittsburg and fall into his arms. He'd be able to fuck him again, to feel him, to smell him, to hold him to love him again.

Loving someone wasn't what Brian had thought his life would come to, but Justin was the only person that put up with all of his shit and didn't take 'no' for an answer. He missed him, but it was over.

Several days had passed without a call from Justin. Normally Brian would wake up with at least one voicemail from him and he'd sit and listen to it most of the day. It helped him stay sober through the work day. He was beginning to feel a need to hear his voice again. So he started listening to the last message Justin left him over and over again. What had he done?

Justin listened to that last voicemail what seemed like a million times. He stopped calling Brian every day about a month back. He would turn his phone off when he was drinking and painting so it would be more difficult to call him drunk again. He painted scenery and different things that made him think about Brian, but not obsess over him. He used the colors they were planning for their wedding with golden gardenias painted across the canvas.

They were happy memories of home and the life he almost had. He wanted it back, but knew Brian was right and he had to really move on. Not just say he was going to and then call him again. But first a trip home was in order. He missed everyone there. His mom, Daphne, Michael, Debbie and the diner. He wanted to be in Pittsburg again.

"Brian Kinney. Leave a message."

"Hello," Justin said softly, "I know I said I wasn't going to call anymore and I think I've been doing a good job. It's been a few weeks since I left a message. I started turning my phone off while drinking so I wouldn't call you.

This isn't one of the 'I love you so much' messages. I just wanted to call and tell you that I'm heading back to Pittsburg in a few days for a week or so. Not going to beg you to get together, but it would be nice to see you. For nothing other than to really say 'goodbye.' I think it will help both of us just one more time. 

I feel like I need to apologize for turning your life upside down all those years ago. If I hadn't wandered off or gotten hit by a baseball bat we probably wouldn't be here. But I know you'd tell me to shut the fuck up and never apologize. So I won't. Again.

But I thought I'd give you a heads-up that I was coming into town, but now that I think about it you may not be there. Please don't run away because I'm flying in. Okay, I'm gonna go because I'm making a fool of myself again, but I'll hopefully see you in a few days. Bye, Brian."

Brian was amazed that Justin was going to be able to come home. He knew that Justin wasn't exactly well off living in New York and since they're not together it wasn't like it was Brian saying 'come home I want to see you' and giving him some frequent flier miles to use on the trip home.

He went to call Justin back but decided against it. He didnt need to leave a message or talk to him right then. He needed to be drunk and dancing at Babylon.

"What's up with him?  Emmett asked Ted.

"Justin;s coming home," Ted responded. "He'll be here in a couple days. He said he needed to not know what he was doing for a little while."

"Have they talked?"

"No, but the entire office knows he sits and listens to voicemails from Justin practically all day," Ted confessed to Emmett.

Emmett was shocked; that didn't sound like Brian Kinney. Normally he would have shaken it off and try not to feel, but with Justin, it was definitely different. So Emmett felt a need to talk to Brian about Justin coming home.

Emmett made his way down to the dance floor and pulled Brian away. "Honey, you need to talk."

"No, I need you to fuck off," Brian said going back to dancing with the sea of men.

"Brian," Michael said coming up and standing next to Emmett.

"He's coming home. Who gives a shit?"  Brian said not turning his attention to them.

Brian had realized that he truly had lost Justin. It was over between them. He knew that he pushed Justin to live his own life, but he had hoped that, as usual, Justin would ignore Brian's wishes and continue to bother him and call him daily.

Brian kept replaying the message Justin had sent him informing him he'd be in town soon. Brian contemplated leaving on an unexpected business trip to avoid having to get 'closure' like Justin wanted. He didn't really want it all to end. But he didn't leave. He continued to do his work and maintain a professional image.

Cynthia had noticed a little difference in him since he got back from New York, but she wasn't sure if it was a good change or a bad one just yet. He didn't come back and scream at her or fire her so something must have happened for him to be calm after returning. She knew that he had seen Justin, but they didn't speak. Maybe just seeing him made Brian remember how he was a little more empathetic to others while Justin was around.

"Justin Taylor. You know what to do."

"Hello," Brian started very softly, "um, just calling to say I got your message. You know I hate the coupley things that people do when they stop being one. Not that we were ever a normal pairing. But if that's what you need, to talk, I can try, I guess.

I'll see you when you get here. I mean you'll probably track me down through Michael or Debbie so there's no point in trying to avoid you.

Justin."

There's a knock at the door. "Fuck," Brian said hanging up the phone quickly. He walked over to the door and slid it open.

"Hello," Justin said.