31.

“How do you allow yourself to be vulnerable with someone when they have abused your trust like that?”

Brian’s eyes snapped open, and his breaths shuddered out in quick pants as he was wrenched out of sleep and into wakefulness by a single question.  Sitting up slowly, he let the sheet pool around his hips as he dragged his hands down over his face.  He hadn’t been ready to see Michael yesterday.  He hadn’t wanted to hear any of the excuses he was sure that the other man would make.  But Michael hadn’t made excuses; it seemed that Justin’s suicide attempt had forced more than one person to change their behavior.

It had been hard enough listening to Michael retell what he had been told about Justin’s tricking.  But worse, it left Brian with the dawning realization of how Justin must have felt to hear Michael brag about Brian’s own tricking.  And layered on top of that bleeding wound was the realization that Michael wouldn’t have been kind to Justin when telling tales about Brian’s exploits.  He’d overheard Michael often enough to know just how arrogant the man could be when talking about his friendship with him. 

“Brian doesn’t believe in boyfriends, or commitment, or love… He’s Brian fucking Kinney!”  “He’s my best friend.  Of course, I know who he is!”  “You’re just a trick who stayed too long.”

It had hurt to listen to Michael talk about the fact that Justin had gone home with someone else.  He wasn’t stupid; he knew that Justin had been tricking long before Michael spilled his guts.  But it had been in an abstract kind of way – Michael had removed that dreamlike delusion, however, and had smacked him in the face with it.

And it had hurt; it had hurt to know that someone else had touched Justin in ways that Brian had once taken for granted.  That someone else had held him.  That he’d let someone else inside of his body.  But to know that he’d done all that to hurt himself?  That he’d bled afterwards?  That there had been no sign of release?  That had hurt most of all.  That knowledge had kept Brian awake far longer than other memory he’d had recently about Justin.

When exactly was it that Justin had turned pleasure into pain?  When was it that he had started to view sex as a punishment?  Was it after he had gotten out of the hospital the first time?  Was it when he had left the Rage party?  Or had it been before that?  Had he had something to do with it?  Had that last sexual encounter with him turned Justin onto this dark, twisted path that he was currently drowning in?  Brian shuddered as the ghostly echo of his voice whispered through the air; filled with revulsion, it hid just how badly he had been hurting while thinking that Justin had been cheating on him. 

At the time, he had been angry.  But after Michael’s reaction, he had put himself in Justin’s position; he had remembered the encounter in all its ugliness.  And in doing so, he had begun to realize exactly what it was that he had done.  He could argue the fact that he was hurt.  Humiliated.  Angry.  But when it came down to it, he’d been jealous.  The last time his jealousy had gotten the better of him, he had pissed all over hours of painstaking work.  This time, however, he had deliberately hurt the person he proclaimed he needed more than anyone else.

He had told Justin once, early on in their relationship, that being on the bottom didn’t make him any less of a man because he was taking it up the ass.  If anything, it was an honor for the guy on top, because it took courage to let someone into your body; to open yourself to that position of vulnerability.  It had been Brian’s responsibility to care for Justin afterwards; to make sure that he hadn’t torn any of his delicate skin.

He had said that while he washed away traces of lube, cum, and sweat as Justin lay sprawled out on his back, too fucked out to even lift his head from the pillow.  Even in the early days, while he had been fighting how he felt about Justin, he had always taken care of him afterwards.  Despite how embarrassed Justin would get, Brian always took the time to check if he’d hurt him.  To go from that care and attention, then, to that last encounter… Brian dragged shaking hands down over his face.  To go from that, to making Justin feel like he was nothing but a trick… Jesus. 

Thinking back over those last few weeks, Brian shuddered.  The sex had been explosive between them – it always had been.  But the more Brian thought back, the more he began to realize something.  Justin had begun to face away from him during sex; there were only a few instances where Brian could remember seeing Justin’s face during sex, and those were generally when Justin had been riding him.  But even during those times, he’d tilted his head back; baring his throat, but hiding his eyes.    

Brian swallowed uneasily.  He’d loved pushing his hands over the smooth skin of Justin’s back.  Tracing lines between the faint freckles with the tip of his tongue.  To thread his fingers through pale hair as he watched his cock sink inside Justin’s body.  He’d loved using that grip on Justin’s hair to turn his head so that Brian could kiss him as Justin strained beneath him.  But with Justin on his hands and knees, or his stomach, or even bent over, he’d been able to turn his face.  He’d been able to hide his feelings from Brian’s keen gaze.  Justin had loved him.  He’d trusted him.  And he’d taken to hiding those emotions long before Rage.

Maybe Michael was right; even if by some fucking miracle he got Justin back, his lover would remember the last time they had been together every time he looked up at him.  Brian closed his eyes as defeat pressed down on him.  If he knew what it was that Justin needed, then he could try to provide it.  And the only way to learn what it was that Justin needed was to talk to him.  Brian nodded slowly.  He could do that.  He could ask.  All he had to do was lay all of his cards out on the table, and be honest.  Justin deserved that.  They both did.

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

The Art Department echoed with the scratch of pencil on paper.  Brian took a deep breath as he paused in the doorway.  He could see Justin from where he stood; blond head bent over whatever project he was working on, his hand in continual motion.  The tip of his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth, and his expression was one of absolute focus.  Everyone else was at lunch; Brian could see the remains of a sandwich near Justin’s left elbow; as he watched, Justin blindly reached for it and popped a piece of it into his mouth, his hand continually moving the pencil across the page he was working on while he chewed.

Staring at the him, Brian tilted his head.  A man.  That was what Michael had said; that Justin was a man.  That if he didn’t stop thinking of Justin as a boy and start thinking of him as an equal, he wouldn’t get him back.  That Justin had been making his own decisions since he was kicked out of his family home.  And while Brian didn’t like those decisions, he was forced to admit that Michael was right – Justin wasn’t a boy.  Not anymore.   

“I’m a big boy now; I make my own decisions, and I live with the consequences.”  “Any decision I tried to make for myself had to have your stamp of fucking approval all over it, because I couldn’t possibly know my own mind.” 

Alex had tried telling him the same thing.  That their relationship had been an unstable power play.  Christ, even Justin had said it – that he couldn’t go back to feeling like a kept boy.  A boy who had grown into a man while Brian had been too busy looking for the ultimate fuck; a man who anyone would be proud to say was his partner.  Is that what Justin needed?  To know that Brian thought he was so much more than a tight ass?  That he was ready to be a partner who put him first?  That he wanted to be a partner who wouldn’t take him for granted?  Who wouldn’t humiliate him by chasing others in front of him?

Circling the room, Brian silently came up behind Justin and peered over his shoulder at what he was working on as Justin switched pencils.  The explosion of orange and red showed warmth and a sensuality that damn near reached off the page and choked you.  Justin’s fingertips were stained with the two colors, and as he switched pencils again, Brian let his eyes linger on his bowed head.  The sweater he was wearing was an icy blue, and as Justin shifted, Brian caught tantalizing glimpses of creamy skin beneath the collar of his shirt.     

It was the discoloration of that creamy skin, however, that had him taking a few steps back.  He knew what those bruises were – he’d put enough of them on Justin’s shoulders and back as he strained beneath him not to know what they were.  Hickeys.  Bite marks.  He hadn’t wanted to believe anything that Michael had said.  He hadn’t wanted to know something so personal about his lover.  Brian let out a shaky breath. 

He knew that Michael had thought that he had his best interests at heart, but it felt like the whole Ethan scenario all over again.  And because he knew that he had to tell Justin about Michael’s revelations, he knew that Justin was sure to take it that way – that someone he had once considered a friend had gone blabbing his personal business again.  And the results of Michael’s misguided information were more than Brian could bear.  Never again would he listen to outside interference without talking things over with Justin first.     

Taking a few more steps backwards, Brian cleared his throat.  Justin’s head snapped up, and he twisted in his seat to look over his shoulder.  But when he caught sight of Brian, the shame that washed over his face left Brian feeling physically ill.  He fought that feeling back as he eased his hip onto the desk behind him, and smoothed his hand down the crease in his pants.  Justin’s face eventually smoothed into the blank mask that Brian was so used to seeing, and his tongue peeked out briefly as he moistened his lips.

“How was school this week?” Brian asked in a desperate attempt at normality, and Justin shrugged even as surprise flittered across his face.

“It was alright.  I’ve finished up the paintings I’ve been working on for the last couple of months; my professor was happy with them.”

“What were they about?” Brian asked as he moved from the desk and sat down in the desk chair.

Justin’s face flickered briefly, before he glanced down at his hands, leaving Brian to wonder what had caused the brief look of discontent that had darkened Justin’s features.

“Love,” he said eventually.  “I had to paint what I thought love was.”

Love.  Brian swallowed as he recalled the soft sound of Justin’s devotion.  Those soft declarations had died away, until the silence that remained was deafening.  How did Justin view love now?  As betrayal and abandonment?  As unlocked doors and unfair double standards due to Michael’s interference?  Did this young man still love him?  Or had he lost sight of that love when he had opened his eyes in the hospital, and found himself alone for a second time? 

“And what did you paint?” Brian managed, and Justin’s mouth twisted slightly.

“Sam’s guitar.  Ethan’s violin.  Their hands,” he said finally as he twisted his fingers into clenched fists, and Brian’s heart sank when he caught sight of the unhappiness on Justin’s face.

He couldn’t let this go on.  Not like this.  Not without finding out if he and Justin even had a future.  He could be the man that Justin had seen that night at prom.  He just had to be brave and tell the one person who meant everything to him just how much he cared.

“What are you doing tonight?’ he asked when Justin remained silent, and Justin shook his head.

“Not much.  I’ve got an assignment to look over, but it isn’t due for a couple of weeks.  Why?”

“Do you want to come over to my place?” Brian asked, and Justin flinched before he shook his head.

“No, thanks.  But why?” he asked, and Brian bit his lip at the expression on Justin’s face. 

He knew heartache when it punched him in the face; he knew unhappiness when it stole the color from Justin’s features, and caused his eyes to cloud over in grief.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Brian managed, and Justin lifted his head to look at him.

“We’re talking now,” he said softly, and Brian licked his lips.

Everyone had said that Justin had been fluent in Kinney-speak; that he could read between the lines and hear what Brian wasn’t saying.  That he’d been able to read his gestures and actions, and know what Brian had never had the courage to say.  But Justin had lost the ability to read him with a single swing of a bat.  And Brian had lost the young man he loved when he had desperately tried to stop the gush of hot blood as it ran down over his fingers.

But as he stared at Justin, Brian could barely hold back the shudder that wanted to wrack his frame.  It seemed that Justin’s blood had left more than just a stain upon his conscience; it seemed he had passed on his ability to read people, too, because Brian was damn sure that what he was reading in Justin’s silence was more than the simple statement that they were talking now.  No, Justin meant so much more than just that.

The look on Justin’s face pleaded for him to pull a Brian Kinney and not push the issue.  To be the Brian Kinney he had once known; the one who wasn’t willing to talk.  The one who would rather fuck his feelings away, than face them.  But he wasn’t that Brian Kinney anymore.  That Brian Kinney was gone; he’d walked out of his loft with a friend one Sunday afternoon, and had learned that the young man who meant so much to him had tried taking his own life.

“I don’t want to talk to you here, Justin.  I have things I need to say to you; things that I don’t want to discuss with you at work.  If you don’t want to come to the loft, then I’ll come to your place,” he said gently, and when Justin’s jaw clenched, Brian bit the inside of his mouth as he watched the warring emotions that crossed Justin’s face.  “Please, Justin.  It’s important,” he pressed.  And when Justin sagged in his chair but finally nodded, Brian’s eyes closed briefly in relief.

“Are you allowed to eat Thai in your meal plan?” he asked, and when Justin nodded, Brian rose to his feet.  “I’ll be there around seven; I’ll get us some dinner.”  Justin simply turned back to the piece he was working on, and with a final glance at the bowed head, Brian left the room as silently as he’d entered it.  

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

Brian stored the last of the leftover Thai food in the fridge, and then glanced over at Justin as he finished up the dishes.  They had made small talk as they had eaten the food that Brian had brought with him; easy conversation about Gus, and a campaign that Brian had been working on.  Justin had quietly suggested a color change, saying that the blue background was cold and aloof, and that if he changed it to orange, it would add warmth and passion.  Brian had accepted his suggestion and thanked him quietly.  The surprise on Justin’s face had spoken volumes and had reinforced the decision that Brian had reached.

Heading into the living room, Brian sat down on the couch.  It was comfortable, and Brian sank into the cushions as he sat back.  He’d gone home after work to get changed, and as Justin walked back into the room, Brian was glad that he had taken the time to pull on a simple white tee-shirt and the worn jeans that he had chosen.  Justin himself was in sweatpants and a paint-stained sweater; as he sat on the other end of the couch, he pulled the sleeves down over his hands.  Brian tried not to wince at the way Justin shrunk into himself.

“Where’s Daphne?” Brian asked quietly, and Justin bit his lip briefly before he shrugged.

“She’s at a friend’s.  She said she’d be home by ten,” he said, and then looked up at Brian.

Knowing that they had a time limit – that Daphne would be home within a few hours – provided Brian with the metaphorical balls he needed.  Turning towards Justin, Brian spread his hands and then spoke.

“I owe you an apology.”

Justin shook his head and turned his eyes towards the floor.

“No, you don’t,” he said, and Brian huffed softly.

“Yeah, Justin, I do,” he said, and when Justin finally looked up at him, Brian swallowed and then pushed forward with his thoughts.  “I, uh… I didn’t react well when Michael told me about Ethan.”

Justin flinched at the soft statement, and he pushed up off the couch to move towards the kitchenette.  Brian briefly closed his eyes, and when he reopened them Justin had his arms wrapped around his waist, his chin lowered.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Brian,” Justin said in the silence that followed, and Brian stood up and crossed over to him.  Reaching out to gently slide his hands down Justin’s arms, Brian turned the blond to face him. 

There was misery in those eyes that Brian knew so well.  That misery matched the feeling in Brian’s gut, and he tugged Justin’s arms out from around his waist and took his hands.  Walking backwards, he slowly led Justin back to the couch, and sat down.  Justin eventually sat back down beside him in resignation, and the sigh that escaped his lips told Brian exactly how he was feeling.

“I should have spoken to you,” Brian said quietly as he stared at Justin.  “I should have just fucking asked you what was going on.  We could have saved a lot of… we could have avoided a lot of things that have happened.”

Justin shook his head, but he eventually looked at Brian.

“Whether we had spoken or not, Brian, we would have broken… I mean, we would have imploded anyway.  I knew that you didn’t want me anymore; whether it had been over Ethan, or Rage, or something else, we would have ended anyway,” he said quietly.  Brian blinked, and then shook his head.

“Didn’t want you?” he asked hoarsely, and when Justin lowered his eyes and nodded, Brian let out a bitter huff of laughter.

“Is that what you thought?” he asked, and Justin’s shoulders jerked.

“You were tricking all the time.  I’m not stupid, Brian… you couldn’t hide it.”

“Hide what?” Brian asked, and Justin finally looked back towards him.

“How unsatisfied you were.  I wasn’t enough to make you happy.  The more you tricked, the more obvious it became.”

Brian could only stare at Justin in growing horror. 

“Is that what you thought?” he breathed, and Justin grimaced slightly.

“It’s what I know, Brian,” he said finally.  “Actions, remember?  You showed me how unhappy you were.  How unsatisfied.  I didn’t need Michael telling me that – you showed me every time I came to your place and found wet cum stains on the bed.  I’d pushed my way into your life; I don’t blame you for trying to push me back out.  I just wish you’d talked to me.”

Brian shook his head as he shakily reached for his cigarettes.  Knowing what Justin thought – hearing it and seeing it from his point of view, he knew he had to speak about a lot more than what Michael had told him.  Lighting a cigarette, feeling the burn of it in his throat as he inhaled, he finally spoke as he stared at Justin through the twisting wisps of smoke that danced between them.

“You’re wrong.”

Justin’s face creased, and he took the cigarette that Brian offered him without comment as Brian searched his mind for the words he needed.

“Wrong how?” Justin finally asked, and Brian took the cigarette back from him when it was offered.

“My tricking had nothing to do with a lack of satisfaction, Justin,” he said quietly, “and everything to do with how I was feeling.  You’ve met my mother, but I never told you how I grew up.”

Justin shook his head, but there was a look on his face that said he already knew.  Brian sighed softly.

“Let me guess; Michael took it upon himself to tell you all about it, right?” he asked wryly, and Justin flushed.  “What did he say?” Brian asked, and Justin raised his hand to briefly bite his thumb before he finally spoke.

“That your father was a drunk who beat on you until you left home for college.  That Debbie and Michael welcomed you into their home when you were fourteen, and that every time you were beaten by your dad, you went to Michael and he looked after you.  That your mother was a shrew of a woman who hid behind her faith and turned her sherry-soaked eyes away whenever your father would hit you.  That you and your sister were close when you were younger, but that you don’t talk now.”

Brian nodded when Justin glanced at him, and taking a calming breath, Brian spoke frankly.

“First of all,” Brian said quietly, “I didn’t go to Michael when my dad kicked the shit out of me.  I went to Debbie.  It was Debbie who welcomed me into her house – who looked after me.  It was Debbie who would clean me up or take me to the doctor’s.  Not Michael.  He was too busy flapping his hands or freaking out to do anything but make noise.  Michael was my friend, Justin.  But it was Debbie who represented safety.  Do you understand?”

Justin’s face creased briefly before he nodded, and Brian silently cursed Michael for making his childhood a weapon that he could wield against Justin.  

“Second of all, Alex told me that I was using what my family life was like as an excuse not to let people get close to me.  That I had gotten myself out of that shit when I left for college, and that it was up to me to make the necessary changes to ensure my life was a happy one, with healthy relationships.  That my tricking, drinking, and drug use were a series of hopeless addictions that fed into the myth of who Brian Kinney was; a myth that Michael needed more than I did.  It was why Michael always said that I was Brian Kinney – best friend.”

Justin nodded again as Brian fell silent, and when his lips parted before he pressed them into a thin line, Brian smiled briefly.

“Alex said that despite what Michael said, I do know how to have a relationship, because I had forged lengthy friendships with both Michael and Lindsay.  That I had formed a parental style relationship with Deb, and to some extent, Vic.  That I had been in a relationship with you, despite what I said and did to deny it.  It took me a while after he told me that to realize why I pushed you away.  Why I tricked the way I did.  Why I made you feel like the loft wasn’t your home – our home – even though it was.”

Brian fell silent until Justin finally tucked his hair behind his ear and raised his eyes to meet Brian’s.  And when those pretty blue eyes met his, Brian licked his lips and then spoke quietly.

“More than anyone else in my life, you had the power to hurt me, Justin,” he said softly.  “But you never did.  Not knowingly.  Not willingly.  I didn’t know how to trust that.  Friendship – relationships – always seemed to come with a price tag attached.  Michael demanded that I live the lifestyle that he didn’t have the courage to.  Lindsay wanted my devotion to her and only her.  Even Ted and Emmett seemed to live through me.  They were all quick to criticize, but only Deb seemed to want more for me, even though she also wanted me to look after Michael.  

“And then I met you.  I kept waiting for you to make demands.  But the only thing you ever asked of me was confirmation that you meant something to me.  I thought that you would want more -demand more - if you knew that I cared about you.  I was unwilling… unable… to let you into my life the way you needed, to open up and talk to you the way that you deserved, whether it was about Chris Hobbs and what he did to us, or about how I felt when it came to you.”

Justin’s eyes dropped from his, and Brian blew out an unsteady breath.

“I knew you were unhappy.  But you were loyal – I knew that you wouldn’t leave me, despite how unhappy you were.  That’s why I fucked Rage; I put my own happiness aside to ensure that you would reach for your own.  I knew you’d walk away that night, Justin.  I left you with no choice but to walk away.  That didn’t mean that I didn’t want you, though.  I didn’t know why you were unhappy; I just knew that in order to let you find the happiness you deserved, I had to let you go.  So, I did.”

Justin’s face creased slightly as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.  And when he finally looked across at Brian, the brunet could see the questions swimming in those clouded eyes.  Brian managed not to smile – it seemed he was becoming fluent in Justin-isms.

“After you were bashed, I tricked, Justin, because I could take what I was feeling - the guilt, and the anger, and the pain - and I could fuck it into someone else.  You said that I treated you like a trick… I didn’t.  Not knowingly.  Those feelings… I couldn’t take them out on you.  Not that way.  You could barely cope with me touching you as it was.  Surely you remember that.  It took us nearly two months to get to the point where you didn’t flinch when I put my hands on you.  And then you changed… we both changed.”

Justin nodded; Brian had treated him like glass when they were in bed together after the bashing.  And within weeks of that, Justin had started to spiral out of control as depression sank its claws into his damaged brain - before it had torn them apart.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you.  I didn’t know how to find the words,” Brian said hoarsely.  “I didn’t know how to reach out to you, and ask you what was wrong.  And the more you seemed to cling, the more I pulled away.  I didn’t want to hurt you, but I couldn’t talk to you about your prom.  I just couldn’t.  What you went through afterwards… the headaches, and the cramps in your hand - it just added to the guilt I was already feeling. 

“I was trying to stay on top of everything; Gardner taking over Ryder’s, Ben ending up in the hospital… my old man suddenly wanting to know about my life because he was dying.  I took what I was feeling, and rather than talk to you, I tried to fuck it away.  And then Michael told me that you were cheating on me with Ethan.  I didn’t know how to cope with that; with the jealousy, and the betrayal that I was feeling.  It blindsided me.  But that doesn’t excuse what I did.  And I am so sorry that I hurt you that way.”

Justin’s face bloomed with color and he shook his head as he turned his eyes towards the floor again.  “It’s not your fault,” he muttered.  “I knew I’d hurt you.  I’d broken those stupid fucking rules that I demanded of you.  Was it fucked up?  Yeah, it was.  But you had every right to be angry with me, Brian.”

Brian turned fully on the couch so that he was facing Justin, and then reached out to lay his hand lightly on Justin’s knee.

“No, Justin, I didn’t.  It was fucking hypocritical of me.  I’d been tricking a lot more than usual.  How could I react the way I did, when you were doing what I’d taught you to do?”

Justin shook his head slightly and then glanced at Brian.  “You didn’t teach me to be dishonest.  You have always been brutally honest with me.  You followed the rules… I didn’t.  That’s not your fault, Brian.  It’s mine.”

Brian rolled his lips inwards briefly as shame colored Justin’s face even more, and he was unable to stop himself from reaching out and wrapping his arm around Justin’s shoulders.  For a brief moment, he thought that Justin would push him away, but then he relaxed, and Brian was able to pull him into the curve of his body.  Wrapping both arms around him, Brian brushed his mouth across the top of Justin’s bowed head, and then pressed his lips to the soft hair under his mouth.

“How’d you break the rules, Justin?” he asked quietly.  “By kissing a virgin?  By tricking with guys that you knew?  Seriously, why do you think you broke them?” he asked, and Justin sighed before lowering his head to the curve of Brian’s shoulder as the other man sank back into the softness of the cushions.  Huddled together, wrapped up in Brian’s arms, Justin finally spoke.

“The virgin… Eric… I felt so guilty about him.  I remembered how well you treated me the night we met.  I didn’t kiss him until after I’d fucked him.  I treated him so badly, Brian… both that night, and the following day when he came looking for me at the diner.  I hurt him… I hurt his feelings.  And yet he still tracked me down and asked me out to dinner when he heard that I was… not with you anymore.  And when I turned him down, I hurt him again.”

Brian closed his eyes when Justin stumbled over what to call their relationship, and tightened his arms around the slim body that he held.

“So, you kissed him to make him feel better.  So that he wouldn’t feel used… correct?” Brian asked, and when Justin nodded, Brian brushed his lips over Justin’s head again.  “That’s called being kind, Sunshine.”

“I still broke the rules,” Justin mumbled, and Brian tilted his head so that he could see Justin’s face.

“Do you need forgiveness, Justin?” he asked curiously, and when Justin jerked within his arms, Brian smiled slightly and turned his head so that he could rest his cheek against Justin’s head.  “If you need it, then you have it, though there is nothing to forgive on my behalf.  What happened with Ethan and Sam?”  

Justin shrugged, but then spoke when Brian remained silent.

“The night I prepared that picnic… I, uh… I’d been told by a guidance counselor at school that I was suffering depression, and PTSD, and that she highly recommended that I seek help.  She would recommend some people who could help me, but that it was a good idea to go home and tell you what was going on.  When I told Ethan what she had said, he agreed with her.  The picnic was his idea; I didn’t agree with it, but he said it would help…”

Justin broke off and shook his head as a slightly bitter smile crossed his face, and Brian briefly closed his eyes.  Ethan had been right – they all knew how that picnic had turned out.

“Where did you go that night?” Brian asked quietly, and Justin fell silent for several minutes before he replied.

“After you left, I went to a bar on campus.  Got drunk, and I woke up at Daphne’s.  I went to Ethan’s place that night.  We drank wine, and I listened to a song that Ethan had been working on.  Laughed with Sam.  We ended up in bed together.  It was good, you know?  They didn’t see me as an extension of you.  They weren’t using me to get to you… they just wanted me.”

Justin’s voice trailed away, and Brian reached up to comb his fingers through Justin’s hair.  The strands were like silk between his fingers, and he shivered slightly at the length, somewhat disbelieving that he was finally able to feel the strands under his fingers like he had so often wanted to.

“And the second time?” Brian asked unevenly as he continued to play with Justin’s hair; the motion of his fingers was causing Justin to relax into Brian’s arms, and it took him a few moments to answer.

“It was a combination of things,” he said finally.  “The excitement I was feeling over watching all the hard work I had put into the comic come to life.  How excited they both were for me… how proud.  It just happened.”  Pulling away from Brian slightly, the look on Justin’s face was one of naked sincerity.  “I blurred the lines there, Brian.  I know I did.  But I swear, it was only once that I was with either of them that way.  I knew them… their names, and phone numbers.  But I swear, it was only once, you know?”

Brian nodded, and then pulled Justin back into his body.  And when Justin sagged against him, Brian brushed his lips over Justin’s head.

“Is that why you apologized?” he asked softly, and Justin nodded.  There was no need to clarify what apology Brian meant.  It was something that had haunted Brian for months.

“Yeah.”

Brian took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, his whole body shook.  As they sat huddled together, Brian felt each muscle in his body relax, releasing tension and pain that he had been tightly holding onto for month after month.  When he finally spoke, it was so softly that his voice barely stirred the silence between them.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Justin nodded, and Brian took another deep breath before speaking again.  “While I understand your thinking, I need you to understand something.”  Justin rolled his head against Brian’s shoulder and peered up at him.  “You did nothing wrong.”  Justin blinked, and Brian shook his head.  “That night… the second time you were with them…”  Brian rolled his lips into his mouth as he lowered his eyes.  “What I did… what I said to you… I am so fucking sorry, Justin.”

Gold-tipped lashes swept down to cover Justin’s eyes, and he lowered his chin as he nodded.  For a half a second, Brian considered leaving it at that; but that was something the old Brian would have done.  It was why they were in their present situation.  Reaching out, he gently gripped Justin’s chin and tilted it up so that Justin had to meet his eyes.

“I know what you’ve been doing…” he began, and Justin jerked out of reach.

“What do mean you know what I’ve been doing, Brian?” he asked, and Brian bit his lip before sighing.

“Michael told me…”

He broke off when Justin rose to his feet, anger causing his face to flush.

“Michael told you… he told you what, Brian?  What was it that I did this time?  That I was drowning kittens?  Huh?  Tripping little old ladies as they crossed the road?  What is it that Michael has decided I have done wrong this time?”

Brian shook his head, and reached out to grasp Justin’s hand.  But when Justin shrank away from him, he sagged in defeat.

“He said that what I had done to you that night was wrong… that I had to stop viewing you as a kid and see you as a man,” he said helplessly, and Justin snorted.

“What gives him the fucking right to say anything?” he spat.  “I know he thinks he is the all knowledgeable fount of information when it comes to you, but he doesn’t fucking know me!  He has no fucking right to tell you how to view people or how to feel about shit that you have done!”

“Justin, he’s trying to help,” Brian said, and Justin shook his head.

“How can he help you, Brian, when if what Emmett has said is right, you haven’t spoken to him in months?  How is that helping?  Huh?  How is he helping you, when he has no idea what you’re thinking or feeling?  What did he say?”

Brian could only blink in surprise, and when his mouth opened and closed a few times, Justin resumed his place on the couch.  Stuttering over the words, Brian slowly went over what Michael had said the night before.

“He, uh… he said that what I had done to you was a sneak attack… that I would be lucky to regain your trust after it… that the way you were tricking was dangerous.  Apparently, he spoke to the guy you went home with the other night; he said that the guy was pretty upset, because he had fucked you until you bled.  He said that I had a daddy kink…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Justin near exploded off the couch, and he dragged his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth a few times.  But when he spun around to face Brian, the look on his face was pure anger.

“What happened between us… was it fucked up?  Yeah, it was.  But I get it, Brian.  I get it.  You were angry, and someone that you trusted told you that your… that I was cheating.  Do I wish you had asked?  Of course, I do!  But fuck, Brian!  That wasn’t an attack… not like the way he is insinuating.  As for my tricking… I already know that I fucked up the other night.  I knew it when I woke up at the guy’s house.  That isn’t on you… that’s on me.  Those are my issues.  And as for you having a supposed daddy kink, so what!  Whose business is it, but ours?”

Justin’s voice echoed through the apartment, and in the silence that followed, Justin blinked.  His eyes darted towards Brian, and as Brian stared at him, Justin’s mouth opened and closed a few times before his expression crumpled and he raised his hands and covered his face.

“Justin?”

Brian whispered his name, and Justin dragged his hands down over his face before he looked at Brian and managed a wobbly smile.

“It was our relationship, Brian,” he said quietly.  “Ours.  Not his.  You want to know why we crashed and burned?  Because of Michael.  Because he can’t keep his fucking nose out of shit that doesn’t concern him!  And even now… he’s still interfering.  Even when I won’t go near him, and you don’t want to talk to him… he’s still interfering.”

Brian forced himself to keep breathing steadily as he stared at Justin; there was a new look on the face of his lover.  An awareness that had been missing for so long that Brian had gotten used to not seeing it there.  And as he stared up at Justin, the blond wiped his face impatiently as he smiled wanly.

“It was our fault, Brian.  Not yours.  Not mine.  Ours.  I stopped listening, I stopped speaking up, and then I stopped trying.  I can’t blame you for something that isn’t your fault.”

“It’s not your fault, either, Justin,” Brian said quietly, and Justin snorted softly as he shook his head.

“Yeah, it is, Brian.  I knew who you were going into it.  It’s not your fault that I wanted more than you were willing to give.  I can’t make you feel something that you don’t,” Justin said, and Brian sat forward on the couch.

“I do,” he managed, and the sad smile that crossed Justin’s face was heartbreaking in its simplicity.

“I know that you care,” he said softly.  “You told me that you did.  I just…. I wanted more.  I wanted you to love me, the way that I loved you.  I can’t blame you for what you do and don’t feel, Brian.  It doesn’t matter anyway… it’s over, right?  You live and learn.”

Justin blew out a deep breath in the thick silence that followed, and he pushed his hands through his hair as he turned towards the kitchen with Brian staring at him in shock. 

“Venerate!”

The single word stopped Justin in his tracks, and he slowly glanced over his shoulder at Brian, who was panting in the aftermath of near choking on the word.  His brows drew together as Brian rose to his feet, and Brian spoke quickly as the words tumbled out of his mouth and left the aftertaste of fear on his tongue.

“Venerate means to regard with great respect; to revere someone.  Synonyms included reverence, respect, worship, adulate, hallow, deify, idolize, hold sacred, exalt, honor, esteem, look up to, think highly of, pay homage to, pay tribute to.”

Crossing over to the blond, Brian looked down into eyes that showed both shock and anxiety, and he was unable to stop himself from cupping Justin’s face in his hands.

“It means love, adore, praise, hold in awe, stand in awe of, marvel at, value, holy, and sacred.  How am I meant to tell you that I love you, when I have used that phrase for Michael and Lindsay?  Because it doesn’t mean the same thing when it’s about you.  It doesn’t even come close… what else can I say to you, Justin, to make you understand?  What is it that you want in a… in a partner?  What is it that Justin Taylor needs?”

Justin moistened his lips as his eyes darted across Brian’s features before he raised his hands and clamped them tightly around Brian’s wrists as Brian’s hands slid from his face to his shoulders.  And when he finally swallowed, Brian felt a swift flash of heat rip through his body, as hope burned brightly in his gut.

“You never wanted to know before,” Justin whispered, and Brian shook him gently.

“I’m asking now,” he said firmly, and Justin swallowed again before he tilted his chin up.

“There’s a vast difference between what I want and what I need,” Justin said finally.  “I need to know that the man I’m with supports the decisions I make about my life, and that he doesn’t try to make them for me.  I need to know that he trusts me in all aspects… that he backs me one hundred percent.  That he respects me and the decisions that I make, even if he doesn’t agree with them. 

“I need to know that I come first; I need to know that he won’t take his fear and his shitty days out on me by humiliating me.  I need to know that he loves me.  I don’t need to hear it every day, or have him gushing about it to perfect strangers, but when actions don’t reflect feelings?  It’s awfully hard to believe that someone cares about you, when they are humiliating you and hurting you because they can’t articulate what they’re feeling.

“I need to know that I can talk to him; that I can tell him what I’m thinking, and not be made to feel like some pathetic little sissy boy, because I need to talk about my emotions.  That is the one thing that Alex has said to me.  I can’t bottle it up or push it aside and never speak about it.  I need to know that I can tell my partner that I love him without being made to feel like it’s a weakness when it isn’t.  I don’t want to have to hide what I’m thinking or feeling.”

“Do you need monogamy?” Brian asked, and Justin snorted as Brian stumbled over the word.

“Again – want vs need.  And I don’t even know if I want that; who’s to say that I won’t come across some gorgeous guy who wants to fuck me?  I mean, I’m nineteen years old.  Maybe one day?  When both of us want it?  Sure.  But I’m not Michael – I’m not going to demand that from a partner, when I can’t even be sure that I can promise it myself.”

Brian’s jaw dropped, and Justin managed a wry smile as Brian blinked in surprise.

“Isn’t that what a partnership is?  A series of promises made between two consenting adults?” Justin asked, and when Brian nodded, Justin shrugged.  “That’s what I need from yo… that’s what I need,” Justin said quietly. 

“And rules?” Brian managed, and Justin shrugged again.

“I don’t think I was ready for rules, Brian.”

“But you want promises?” Brian asked, and Justin looked up sharply.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and Brian lifted his hand from Justin’s shoulder and scraped his thumb across his jaw.

“Are you ready to make a promise?” he asked, and Justin’s eyes clouded over briefly.

“No,” he said finally.  “I’m not.  I’m still too fucked up, Brian.  How can I make a promise to someone, when I can barely manage my day-to-day life right now?  I need to work on me, before I can be what someone else wants and needs.”

“He told me that he’d be whatever I wanted him to be if I would just take him home.”

Brian shook his head as Ethan’s voice whispered in his mind, and his voice was firm when he spoke.

“I’m not talking about you making promises to someone else, Justin; I’m talking about the promises made between us,” Brian said.  “You told me something once.  You said that you knew who I was, that you didn’t expect me to change.  So, don’t you try to turn yourself into what you think I want you to be… what you think I need you to be, in order to be happy.  Because I know who you are.  I don’t need you to change, Justin, to twist yourself into knots, or to live a lie… that’s not what I want.”

Justin compressed his lips briefly before he shook his head.

“What is it that you do want and need, Brian?” he asked finally, and Brian lowered his head to press their foreheads together briefly before he straightened back up.  And when his breath shuddered out of him a moment later, he finally spoke.

“I need you in my life; I told you that.  In whatever capacity you can give me.  I need to know that you are working with Alex to sort your life out; I need to know that at the end of this, when you have finished working on you, that you will be willing to work on us.  I need to know that it isn’t too late.”

Justin swallowed hard, and when he finally spoke, it was so quietly that Brian had to lean forward to hear him better.

“When I got out of the hospital the first time, Brian… I came by the loft.  Because I needed to know if it was too late.”

Brian’s eyes widened as Justin’s lips parted several times as he tried to voice what he was thinking about.  And when he finally looked up, he twisted his mouth into a semblance of a smile and shrugged. 

“You, uh… you weren’t alone.  And I knew it was over.  You were back doing what you wanted…   And I swore to myself that I would never let anyone get that close to me again.  What you’re asking…”

He dropped his eyes and shook his head, and Brian reached out to grasp his chin.  Tilting Justin’s face up, Brian managed to smile, even though it felt like a grimace.

“I can’t even remember the first six weeks after Rage, Justin.  I spent that time drugged out… drunk… anything to make it all stop.  Pain management… I didn’t know how to function, so I didn’t.  I thought you were with Ethan – happy, healthy, and in love.  I didn’t know.” 

“And now that you do?” Justin asked, and Brian dragged his thumb over an alluring bottom lip, and then slid his hand across Justin’s neck to cup the base of his skull.

“I’m still waiting for you to tell me what to say to you, so that you know how I feel,” Brian said as he took a step closer.  “I’m still waiting for you to tell me that it isn’t too late.”

“Why do I have to be the one who comes up with the words?” Justin asked, and Brian rolled his lips into his mouth to hide his smile when he heard the annoyance in Justin’s voice.

“Because you are so much braver than me,” he whispered. 

 Justin’s eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head slightly.

“I’m not brave, Brian,” he said quietly.  “You said that I have the power to hurt you; we both know that you have the same power over me… I just don’t… I mean…”

Brian licked his lips and nodded, and then took a steadying breath.

“I’m not the same man I was, Justin,” he murmured.  “Neither of us is; you said you aren’t ready for the rules.  I don’t think either of us was.  Rules can be broken.  Promises, though?  Neither of us break those.”

Justin nodded, and when he finally looked up and locked eyes with Brian, Brain smiled briefly as he carded his fingers through that soft blond hair.

“Want vs. need, right?  I’ve told you what I need.  What I want, though, is to continue doing what we’ve been doing while you work on you with Alex.  And I’ll do the same thing; there are still things I need to fix within myself.”

“And what have we been doing?” Justin asked, and Brian grinned.

“We’ve been getting to know each other.  Occasionally having lunch together at work.  Going out to dinner.  Spending time with Gus.”

“That sounds suspiciously like dating, Brian,” Justin said with a wry smile, and Brian gaped at him before he tilted his head back and deliberately scanned the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” Justin asked, and Brian smiled as he looked down at Justin.  Rolling his lips into his mouth for a second, Brian then smirked.

“Well, I wasn’t struck down by lightning, so, I guess it’s safe to say we have been dating,” he said, and when Justin’s face lit up in surprised amusement, that precious emotion was reflected in the sound of his laughter echoing softly around them. 

Looking down at him, basking in the sight of that sunny smile that had lit up not only Justin’s face but his eyes as well, Brian held his pride close to his chest and hugged the feeling it gave him.  He’d caused that smile.  He’d caused the laughter he could see dancing in Justin’s eyes.  But then Justin’s face grew sober, and he licked his lips before he spoke hesitantly.

“You said we were getting to know each other, Brian… that’s all I can give you.  I can’t go back to how things were… I can’t…” he whispered, and Brian swallowed thickly before he nodded.

“I just want a chance to work this out with you,” he managed.  “That’s what I need.  A promise from you that you’ll try.”

Justin nodded, and when Brian lowered his head to rest his forehead against Justin’s, it was Justin who tilted his head back and brushed his lips lightly over Brian’s.  A ghost of a touch; a silent promise from those tempting lips, and Brian’s knees wobbled as Justin immediately lowered his chin.  But when Brian slipped his arms around him, Justin returned the embrace and rested his forehead against Brian’s shoulder.  Holding him, being held in return, Brian let out a shuddering breath; he closed his eyes, and luxuriated in the knowledge that he had asked for what he wanted, and had been promised a chance for his bravery.