18.

Normally, when a family meeting was called, it was Debbie doing the calling. Usually, those family meetings took place in Debbie’s home.  But this wasn’t normal; Alex had called this meeting.  He had called Brian and asked him to come to his house; Alex sat in a leather armchair with one leg crossed over the other.  The strain on his face was apparent, as was the fatigue in every inch of his body; Brian couldn’t remember a time that he had ever seen Alex look so utterly exhausted. 

Brian sat beside Emmett, whose long fingers were tucked around his own hand; Emmett had reached for Brian’s hand the moment the nelly queen had sat down, and he squeezed Brian’s fingers steadfastly.  Ted’s hand had been surprising firm when he had grasped Brian’s shoulder upon his own arrival, and he sat in the chair next to Alex’s with worry showing on his face as he alternated between looking at his hands and looking at Brian.

In the weeks since first learning about Justin, Brian had been surprised by the friendship that had been solidified between himself and the other two men.  Their support had been silent but unwavering.  Not a day went by that didn’t include a text message or a phone call from one of them; unable to reach out to Justin, they had reached out to Brian instead.  It was something he hasn’t expected but appreciated nonetheless. 

Debbie and Vic sat at the other end of the couch.  Debbie had appeared nervous when she had first arrived, but a quiet conversation with Alex had settled her.  She had kissed Brian’s cheek in greeting before she sat beside Emmett; with Vic by her side, the two of them looked at Alex hopefully, only to be told that not everyone was there and to please be patient.  Neither of the girls was present; Alex said that the weather had kept them home with Gus, but they would be filled in on what the meeting was about via phone. 

The knock that sounded on the front door had the others looking up expectantly; Brian steeled himself as Alex rose to answer the door.  He hadn’t seen Michael in a long time and wasn’t looking forward to their first meeting being in this room.  But when Alex returned to the lounge room, it wasn’t Michael and Ben that followed him into the room; Brian flinched when he saw Ethan walk in hand-in-hand with Sam.

The tension in the room increased tenfold when Ethan caught sight of the family, and a scowl broke out over his face.  He bit his lip, however, when Sam clamped his hand around the back of Ethan’s neck in silent warning.  The two lovers locked eyes when Ethan looked up at Sam.  Brian could almost see the flow of conversation between them; an argument that Sam apparently won when Ethan huffed and turned to face the gathered group.

“Well, this is fucking awkward, isn’t it?” he said dryly, and Sam snickered as he guided Ethan over to the love seat.

Debbie laughed nervously as the two boys sat down.  Brian couldn’t help but stare at them; Sam straddled the love seat and tugged Ethan down between his spread thighs.  Ethan shifted closer to his boyfriend and leaned back into Sam’s chest.  His head rested against the curve of Sam’s neck, and he seemed to settle as Sam tucked his hand under Ethan’s arm and rested his hand on Ethan’s upper thigh.

Separately, they were both good-looking men.  Ethan’s dark curls and serious eyes beautifully framed the paleness of his skin, whereas Sam’s skin held a warm glow that was in direct contrast to the grey tattoos that Brian could see peeking out of the collar of his shirt, and across the backs of his hands.  Yet together, it wasn’t their looks that drew your attention – it was the unconscious stroking of Sam’s thumb across Ethan’s thigh and the way the tension in Ethan just melted away as Sam continued to caress his leg.

Brian felt a sharp stab of what could only be called jealousy.  These two boys had fucked Justin.  They knew the taste of his skin and the sounds that poured out of the blond when his prostate was nailed just right.  But simmering under the jealousy was anger.  Brian knew he had no right to be angry with them, but he couldn’t help it.  Ethan, in particular, had been the catalyst in the downfall of his relationship with Justin.  And to see him so comfortable with Sam had Brian’s blood on a slow burn that he was helpless to contain.

It was the sound of Alex clearing his throat that drew Brian’s attention away from the two lovers; he could hear Lindsay and Mel in the background and knew that Alex had put them on speaker phone, so that they could listen to why Alex had called them all together.  Looking over at Alex, Brian watched as he shifted in his seat; he took a steadying breath before he spoke plainly.

“Now that everyone’s here…”

“Michael and Ben aren’t here,” Debbie said quietly, but she fell silent when Alex narrowed his eyes.

“No, Debbie, they aren’t.  While Michael is your son, he is unwelcome when it comes to this; Justin currently wants nothing to do with him, and quite frankly, what he wants right now is my first and only priority; am I making myself clear?”

Debbie’s face flushed bright red.  She nodded stiffly when she peered at Brian; finding no support, when the man blinked slowly before turning his attention back to Alex, Debbie lowered her eyes.  Brian blinked again, this time in surprise, when he saw that Alex had directed his gaze towards him; there was an apology in Alex’s steady gaze that made him uncomfortable, and Brian abruptly looked away as Alex cleared his throat. 

“Justin came to see me today.”

He held his hand up when everyone started to speak at once; everyone, that is, except Brian and Sam.  The two men locked eyes, and as Alex called for quiet, Brian watched as Sam seemed to steel himself as he slipped both arms around Ethan’s waist and buried his nose in his boyfriend’s hair.  Emmett squeezed Brian’s hand in steadfast support as everyone fell silent.

“Please,” Alex said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “let me finish.  As you all know, I hadn’t seen Justin in over five weeks.  Ethan, Sam… I know that you both helped Daphne look after Justin during that time.  Between the three of you, Justin followed the rules that we set out while he was still in the hospital, and I thank you not only for that but for what you stopped him from doing the night that he saw Brian and me together at Boytoy.”

“But?” Ethan asked quietly, and Alex swallowed before he spoke gently.

“Ethan… you never believed that Justin had attempted suicide.  You and Daphne followed the rules that were set out for him, and you agreed that he had depression, but you always maintained that Justin had OD’d.”

Ethan’s lips thinned, and he shook his head slightly as Sam tightened his arms around his waist.

“He’s my friend, Alex,” Ethan said firmly.  “I know he’s been hurting; I’ve seen it.  I’ve listened to him bleed it out when he tricks; I’ve watched him punish himself because of what he believes he did wrong.  I’ve held him while he cried – no one knows just how far Justin has slipped into his depression better than me… than us.  Do not thank us, for being there for Justin; I’ve told you that before.  We’re the lucky ones.  He let us into his life; it could have gone the other way, and he could have shut us out the way he has with them.” 

Ethan gestured towards the couch as he tilted his head to peer up at Sam, who smiled down at him and brushed a kiss over the tip of his nose.

“No one doubts just how good a friend you have been to Justin, babe; you saved his life.”

It was murmured, but in the silence of the room, Sam’s statement was deafeningly loud.  And when Ethan looked back over at Alex with wide eyes, Alex smiled wryly.

“Sam’s right, Ethan – you did save Justin’s life, and every single person in this room knows it.  Justin himself knows it; he and I have spoken about it during his sessions, and he is the first one to say that you saved him.”

Alex licked his lips before he sighed heavily.

“The hardest part of helping Justin has been convincing him that he needs help.  You know this yourself, Ethan.  It’s been a hell of a fight to get him to come to therapy, and an even bigger struggle to get him to talk about what has been hurting him.  Because Justin knew that if he did open up and talk, then he would be made to feel the pain that he was still holding inside himself.  Pain that he was still ignoring.  In Justin’s own words, he was fine.

“He was able to dance around what he had done; he never really admitted to a suicide attempt.  He was brutally honest about the fact that he had taken the pills.  Honest in saying that he was tired, that he wanted to sleep.  But he never admitted to anything else.  He denied it, not only to those of us in this room but to himself as well; in denying it, he was continuing to hurt himself.  For Justin to have any chance of getting better, he had to find the courage inside himself to face his own demons; he had to talk about what had driven him to this point in his life.”

Alex dragged his hand across his mouth and shook his head.

“He finally talked to me today.  He finally opened up.”

Brian wanted to close his eyes and put his hands over his ears; he knew that whatever Alex was leading up to was going to cut him open.  And when Alex finally did speak, Brian could only close his eyes and let the words wash over him.

“He finally admitted today that he did try to kill himself; it wasn’t an accidental OD.  It wasn’t even planned out – but Justin made a choice to swallow those sleeping pills; he decided that the only way to deal with the constant pain that he was in was to cut it off at the source.  He said that he wanted to stop; stop hurting, stop being.  Stop existing.”

In the silence that followed, the only sound that echoed was the soft sound of the girls crying quietly over the speakerphone.  Brian concentrated on breathing; his only other option was to scream, but he was scared that if he started screaming, he wouldn’t stop.  Looking across the room, he locked eyes with Ethan for the first time – the horror that was reflected back towards him in Ethan’s eyes was a mirror image of how Brian himself felt.  Ethan finally managed to find his voice, but his voice was so low that Brian could barely hear it.

“He… he stopped breathing in the bathroom, Alex.”

Alex nodded as Ethan shrunk in on himself; Brian’s heart skipped a beat at the admission, and he swallowed convulsively as fresh grief rolled through his body like a wave at the knowledge of just how close Justin had come to succeeding.

“I had to… I had to breathe for him until the ambulance arrived.  If… if I hadn’t come home early, he would have been dead by the time I found him.”

The tear that slid down Ethan’s cheek spoke of horrific memories, and Ethan abruptly turned within Sam’s arms and buried his face in his throat.  Alex merely closed his eyes as he breathed out steadily through his nose.

“Where is he?” Sam asked softly, and Alex tilted his head back before he answered.

“Justin’s back in Allegheny Hospital; I drove him there this afternoon, and he was voluntarily admitted to the psychiatric unit.”

The room exploded with voices again, and Brian slumped slightly as Emmett’s thumb pressed into his hand and rubbed over the skin in comfort.  Looking back towards Ethan and Sam, Brian watched as Sam ran his hand up and down the curve of Ethan’s spine; his face was turned towards Ethan’s, and he was speaking in a low voice as Ethan’s shoulders continued to jerk.  Alex maintained his silence until the sounds in the room died off, and when Sam spoke, everyone looked towards him.

“What’s he been admitted for, Alex, and for how long?  Do the same rules still apply, or will they be different because it was a voluntary admission?”

His questions caused the family to freeze as they were reminded that this wasn’t the first time that Ethan and Sam had had this type of conversation with Alex.  Alex ran his hands through his hair roughly, and then sat forward.

“He was re-admitted for clinical depression; he’ll also be seeing a nutritionist while he is a patient to get his weight back up to a safer level – he’s at least fifteen pounds lighter than he was when he was first admitted.  As for how long he’ll be in the hospital, I’m not sure, Sam; I don’t even know if the same visitation rules will still apply; as you said, this isn’t like last time.”

“What do you mean?”

It was the first time that Brian had spoken, and his voice came out sounding as though he had been swallowing glass all afternoon.  Alex looked towards Brian and grimaced slightly.

“When Justin was admitted to the unit the first time, he was in lockdown for the first week; he couldn’t take a piss without someone standing in the room with him.  Suicide watch is taken very seriously, Brian; he was watched twenty-fours a day.  For the first week, he wasn’t even allowed visitation; instead, he got intense therapy.”

“And Justin fought it every inch of the way.”

Ethan’s voice was thick with tears as he turned around; those same tears were evident on his face, and Brian swallowed.  The boy looked utterly wrecked; his shoulders continued to jerk as he spoke, sending tears spilling down his cheeks as he twisted his fingers in his lap.

“The first time I spoke to Justin, he begged me to get him out of there; he said he’d do whatever they wanted if I would just take him home.  Do you remember, Alex?  You said it didn’t work in that manner; that until Justin came to terms with why he was in there in the first place, he would continue to be in the hospital.  Justin flipped his shit in a big way; he kept repeating that he was fine, that he just wanted to go home.”

Ethan shook his head as Sam kissed him gently; looking towards Brian, Ethan swallowed and then spoke again.

“The more Alex tried to calm him down, the more agitated Justin became.  He was practically ricocheting off the walls in the end, and when I grabbed him to try and calm him down, he held on so tightly that I thought he’d break my ribs… the nurse in the room ended up sedating him, while I was holding him.  The look on his face when he felt the needle being inserted was one of absolute betrayal… it makes me wonder if that’s where his aversion to being touched during and after therapy comes from,” Ethan said with a glance at Alex, who frowned.

“He was put in a wheelchair,” Ethan continued, “and he sat there and cried the entire time I was kneeling beside him.  He kept pleading with me to take him home; whispering that he was fine, that he wasn’t some weak, sissy faggot.  He didn’t need to be there, he was just fine.  Alex let me take him back to his room, and before the sedation fully kicked in, he told me that he’d be whatever I wanted him to be if I would just take him home; then he laughed and said he’d forgotten… he didn’t have a home anymore... he hadn’t had a home since he was seventeen.  He just stayed with people until they got sick of him and kicked him out.”

Brian flinched when Ethan’s words mingled with the memory of telling Justin at Babylon that he would be coming home to him.  Had the loft ever felt like home to his lost boy?  But Ethan was still talking, and Brian forced his mind out of the past and into the pain of the present.

“Then he said, ‘he was right… Brian should have just fucking left me there.’  I asked him what he meant, and he said that he had been told that the family would’ve been better off if Brian had just left him lying in the garage after Hobbs had bashed him.  He said the person who told him that was probably right.  What kind of cunt says something like that?  Losing Justin would tear our whole fucking world apart.  When I told him that, he asked me why would Sam or I care?  We’d already fucked him; he had nothing left to offer us.”

Brian gagged as Ethan’s words washed over him; he could feel Emmett’s hand shaking within his own, and when he glanced at him, he could see the tears that rolled silently down Emmett’s face.  Debbie’s eyes were closed, but the pain on her face was as clear as day.  Vic looked nauseous, and when Brian slowly looked toward Ted, he saw that the other man had his fists clenched in anger.

There was nothing he could do to erase Michael’s words.  Nothing he could do to go back in time to change the way things had gone.  Knowing that Justin had felt that way – that his beautiful boy still felt that way – was crippling.  Swallowing hard, Brian looked towards Alex.

“Who’s with him?” he managed to ask.

“His mother and Daphne met us there; Daphne had his bag, and they were going to stay with him until he was settled for the night,” Alex said gently as he shifted his weight in his seat; he spread his hands and spoke quietly.

“The difference this time is that Justin knows why he is in there; he knows that he needs help, but more than that, he is finally ready to ask for it.  The reason you were all called in tonight is because at some point  you will be asked to attend a therapy session with him.  I spoke at length with Justin this afternoon about what he could expect, and all though he is frightened, he is more open now to the idea of why group sessions are so important to his recovery.”

“Why are they so important?” Vic asked, and Alex glanced at him with a small smile.

“Because the first rule of therapy, Vic, is honesty.  Justin has to be honest with himself and with the other person in his session.  He has kept so much locked inside himself, that he is like a pressure cooker – if he doesn’t process what is hurting him, he will eventually self-destruct again.  If you are asked to attend a session with him, be prepared to not only be honest in every word that you say but be prepared to hear the ugliness of Justin’s version of the truth.

“You will have to sit there and listen to what he has to say; you will learn how he thinks and feels.  You already know that he thinks he means nothing to Brian.  That he was an inconvenience to the rest of you.  But you have no idea how hard it is to listen to those words coming out of his mouth; knowing that he believes what he is saying while understanding that his thoughts are wrong.  I know how much every person in this room loves Justin; the hard part will be convincing him of that.”

“Will he be able to visit with Gus?”

Lindsay’s voice was thick with tears as it came over the speaker and Alex smiled slightly.

“I’m hoping that you’ll allow Gus to visit Justin, Lindsay; seeing Gus that day at school was the highlight of this entire cluster fuck.”

“Of course, we’ll allow it!  But how do we do it?”

“I can pick him up,” Sam offered quietly.  “If the same rules apply here, you guys won’t get within ten feet of Justin without it being in a session.  Ethan and I should be able to come and go within normal visiting hours.”

“How are you able to do that but we can’t?” Lindsay asked, and Sam shrugged.

“Because we’ve been there since Day One, Lindsay,” he pointed out bluntly.  “You haven’t.  I told you that the afternoon you first bought Gus to PIFA.”

“Can I ask how that visit went?” Alex asked when Lindsay fell silent, and Ethan cleared his throat before he spoke.

“We were in the music wing when Justin came through the doors with Gus - Sam and I knew immediately that it was a manipulation.  We weren’t sure who had organized it, but we knew that Gus was there with Justin to drag him closer to the family.  Sam and I spoke while Justin gave Gus his lunch, and then Sam went to see who was waiting while I stayed with Justin.”

“And how did the visit go?” Alex asked, and Ethan shrugged.

“Gus is a very bright little boy; he kept touching the different instruments in the room and laughing when he could make them produce sound.  But it was when he found the piano that he really got excited. He dragged Justin over it and kept touching the keys.  He ended up sitting on my lap and playing the piano with me while Justin drew what he was seeing.”

“I thought that you played the violin,” Emmett offered, and Ethan smirked slightly.

“I can play all instruments, as can Sam.  I just prefer the violin.  They don’t call me a ‘music progeny’ for shits and giggles; God, Justin’s right - that term makes me sound like such a pretentious shit!  Do you remember the first time he called me that, Sam?”

Sam’s eyes lit up with amusement at the memory, and his laughter was rich with humor as it spilled out of him.

“Yep; I didn’t know if you were going to slap him or agree with him and laugh about it; you sat there with your mouth open for a full minute before you started laughing.  I can still remember you telling Justin that he was a princess himself within the art community, and Justin said that he was no princess – he was a fucking queen, and don’t you ever forget it!”

Ethan chuckled as soft laughter echoed around the room and then shook his head.

“Justin was more relaxed with Gus than I have ever seen him with anyone else.  He never flinched away from Gus’s touch – if anything, Alex, he sought it out; kisses, cuddles… and Gus kept burying his hands in Justin’s hair and giggling as he pulled his fingers through the length of it.”

“That’s something I noticed myself today,” Alex admitted.  “Justin has deprived himself of physical comfort for so long that when he is touched, it hurts him.  Physically, mentally… he shies away from it at every opportunity.  You mentioned before, Ethan, that you were holding him when he was sedated that day – I think you might be onto something with that.”

“What do you mean?” Emmett asked.  “Justin’s very tactile as a person – he’s constantly touching the people in his life.  He loves kisses and cuddles.”

“He did,” Alex said.  “But since he left Brian, he has deprived himself of the most needed form of touch, Emmett – comfort.”

“Why?” Emmett asked, and Alex sighed.

“Self-punishment.  He pushed everyone away while he was in the hospital; Justin was fine with Daphne touching him, and on occasion, Ethan or Sam touching him.  But he couldn’t handle anyone else touching him; he’d step out of their reach if he saw it coming, but if he didn’t, he would flinch.  That’s why he used tricking the way he did – he got absolutely no pleasure out of the act; if anything, it brought him physical pain.  I think he used tricking as a way to try and deal with the mental pain he was in.”

“He can handle touch if it’s him initiating it,” Sam said quietly.  “He’ll lean into me or Ethan – his signal, if you like, that he needs to be held.  But he can only handle it for a minute before he is pushing us away.  He always gets twitchy after being held – like a fucking addict going through withdrawal.”

“He walked into the diner with some kid on Thursday,” Debbie offered.  “He had his arm wrapped around the boy before they entered.”

“You mean Tommy?” Ethan asked, and when Debbie nodded, Ethan shrugged.

“He won’t fuck Tommy… he’s too young.  I think that Justin views Tommy like Gus – a kid who is younger than him; who won’t hurt him.  Someone who wants him for something other than how tight his ass is.”

Debbie blanched at Ethan’s bluntness, while Brian bit back a moan.  He could remember how many times he had tried touching Justin in Alex’s office – touching Justin’s face, or his shoulders, the back of his neck.  Trying to maintain his hold on the slim body he had missed so much, while Justin had struggled to pull away.  And all the while, Justin had been flinching every time that Brian had laid his hands on him.  He’d been hurting the boy, without even knowing it. 

“So, what do we do now?  Do we wait, or…?”

Emmett’s question broke Brian out of his thoughts, and he turned to look at Alex.

“Exactly.  You wait,” Alex said.  “This first week or two is going to involve intensive therapy sessions for Justin.  One-on-one, at least twice a day.  There might be group therapy in the afternoons.  Once he’s in a more stable frame of mind, then we’ll see.  Unlike last time, Justin might be able to go to school and collect his assignments with a social worker, so his grades won’t be affected like the previous time.

“I’ve already spoken to his boss, and Ingrid said she will hold his position for as long as he needs; her little brother apparently committed suicide when he was fourteen.  Justin will be put on medical leave; that will provide him with some money coming in, so he doesn’t have to touch what little savings he’s managed to build up.  And as Daph said to him – his home is with her, and she isn’t going anywhere.”

The meeting broke up not long afterward, the family shuffling off into the night.  Brian stood at the base of the stairs as he inhaled a cigarette; he watched Sam sit in the driver’s seat of his car as the engine rumbled in the quietness of the night while he waited for Ethan to finish talking to Alex.  And when the pretty musician walked down the stairs, he paused at the bottom.  Ethan looked at Brian for a minute, before he sighed and turned away.

“Thank you… for getting home early...before…”

Brian managed to choke the words out of the stranglehold his emotions had put on his throat, and Ethan slowly turned to face him.  For a moment, Brian thought that Ethan was either going to walk away without a word or hit him.  When Ethan finally did speak, it was as if he, too, was having trouble making his voice work, his words coming out as a cross between a plea and a demand.

“Don’t hurt him,” he warned, his voice shaking even though his determination came across loud and clear.  “If you can’t be the man that he needs, then fucking let him go.  He needed someone back then.  I was there.  I did what I had to do… for him.  But if he slips back into that dark hole again…”  Ethan’s voice trailed off and his eyes welled with tears.  Shaking his head, he explained, “I’m not some magician, some kind of Wizard of Oz who’s strong enough to help put him back together again…”  He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes.  “He wouldn’t be the only one who was broken.”   

He turned and slowly walked over to Sam’s car without another word.  Brian could only stand there and watch as Sam narrowed his eyes at him before he pulled out into the street and drove away.  Dropping his cigarette onto the ground, Brian turned to head towards his own car, only to pause when he saw Alex standing behind him.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked gently, and Brian laughed bitterly before shaking his head.

“I didn’t think so,” Alex said, and then smiled.  “Come with me,” he said.

Brian swallowed as he nodded before he followed Alex towards his car.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The hospital was quiet; this wasn’t the emergency room, bustling with noise and activity.  It reminded Brian of long nights spent in beige corridors; of sitting in uncomfortable chairs and peering through the glass pane on a door.  But there was no physical barrier separating him from Justin this time; there was only hurt, pain, and a complete lack of trust.  Brian wondered briefly if the other door had been a lesser punishment than the one that Justin currently possessed in his mind and his heart; the padlock that was there, was there through Brian’s own making.

There was no kind nurse offering him soup or coffee this time.  There was just a single room and the dim glow of the light from beyond the glass walls.  There were no plants on the windowsill, or cheerful cards on the bedside table.  There was only a single bed, and the slim frame of the boy who had smashed down his walls, leaving them in rubble at his feet.  Justin was burrowed under the hospital-issued blankets, lying on his side; his shoulders jerked intermittently, and his face was bleached ivory, indicating hour upon hour of tears spilled in the dark. 

Sitting beside his bed, Brian wondered just how many tears Justin had shed in the dark that he didn’t know about; tears he had shed in this very hospital.  Tears he had shed since leaving Brian.  He gently traced the veins on the back of Justin’s hand where it lay curled under his chin.  There were three different colored hospital bands around his left wrist; white, to show his personal information.  Red, to indicate his many drug allergies.  And blue… blue was to show that he was a patient in the psychiatric unit.

Justin had been mildly sedated; he had apparently had a minor meltdown after his mother and Daphne had had to leave for the night.  Not anger or rage – his anxiety had started to build up, and he had panicked slightly at the thought of being left in the hospital on his own.  The nursing staff had offered him a sedative to help him settle down enough to sleep, and Justin had agreed.  The sedative had allowed him to sleep, but it had done nothing to stop the pain that the boy was feeling.  Brian swallowed hard as Justin jerked again, and another tear slipped down his cheek from under his damp lashes.   

Alex had shown him to Justin’s room, and told him that he had ten minutes – then he would have to leave, and he wouldn’t see Justin again until the boy either asked him to come to a therapy session, or he was discharged.  Staring down at him, Brian shuddered as the events of the meeting heavily weighed him down.  Leaning closer to the bed, Brian pushed the words out of his mouth, even though he knew that Justin couldn’t hear him; still, they needed to be said.

“I’m not giving up… so, don’t you give up.  I swear to God, Sunshine, I will follow you into hell itself and drag your ass out if you even think about giving up,” he whispered as he lifted his hand to stroke his fingertip across the damp trail the latest tear had left behind.  “The devil owes me a few favors; so does the prick upstairs, and I swear, I will haunt your ass for eternity if you…”  He had to stop to compose himself before continuing.  “You can’t go… I won’t let you.  You have to be that tough little shit that I found under the streetlight… I know you… you’re stronger than you think… Justin…”

He heard Alex clear his throat and closed his eyes, his breath shuddering out of him before he slowly rose to his feet.  Brushing his hand across the tousled strands of blond hair, Brian lowered his head and pressed his lips against the side of Justin’s mouth.

“I need you.”

It was scarce a whisper; hardly even a sound.  But he’d said it.  He’d meant it.  And as Brian forced himself to walk out of the room, he silently vowed that if Justin let him back in, he’d do his level fucking best to be the man that Justin needed, and show him how much he wanted the blond in his life.  He was no Jack Kinney clone.  As he’d told his boy in Alex’s office - he was Brian fucking Kinney – and he was stronger than that.