Brian startled awake and looked around blearily, wondering what had woken him up this time. This was becoming a bad habit of late. He stretched and reached out a hand behind him, frowning when instead of meeting warm, smooth skin it was met by cold sheets.

Fuck. Where the fuck was Justin now?

Glancing over at the clock, he sighed when saw that it was two in the morning and resigned himself to not getting anymore sleep until he tracked down his wayward husband and dragged him back to bed. It never used to be this way. Once upon a time, Brian Kinney hated the idea of anyone sharing his life, let alone his bed; and now he couldn’t sleep if Justin wasn’t there.

When the hell had this become his life?

Probably about the same time that he’d met a persistent, angelic-looking twink (because he certainly wasn’t angelic in actions), standing under a street lamp.

Throwing the bedding aside, Brian shivered as the cold air hit his bare skin and quickly strode over to where his thick, black robe hung on the door. Throwing it on, he opened the bedroom door and made his way to the only place Justin could be at this time of night.

Well, one of two places.

The first one was the kitchen; but given the fact that they’d had dinner at Deb’s house tonight, he doubted Justin was in search of a midnight snack. Maybe. Given his husband’s appetite, one that still irked him as he had to watch every bite he ate, Justin could have very well gone in search of something to eat. His food bill had more than tripled in the years that he’d known Justin.

But tonight...tonight he was pretty sure he’d find Justin in the second place - painting away in his studio. Brian had noticed that Justin had been mulling something over in his mind for the past few days and he knew that Justin had been itching to get into his studio, but couldn’t due to all the ongoing Christmas preparations.

Brian strode down the long hallway, cursing once again that Justin’s studio was placed at the far end of the house. He knew that there had to have been a reason at the time - likely something to do with the persistent mess that always seemed to follow in Justin’s wake and Brian wanting to keep paint splatter away from their very expensive, Italian furnishings. But on nights like this, when Justin just had to put whatever he’d seen in his mind to canvas or paper, oblivious to the time, it was a complete pain in the ass.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Brian slipped into the darkened studio, his eyes immediately finding the new canvas sitting in the middle. It was just starting to take shape, a swirl of icy blues and purples with just a hint of green. It sort of reminded Brian of the buds of spring just coming through after a harsh winter, although why it did he no idea, as it was abstract. But it made Brian feel hopeful that something terrible was at an end and something wonderful was beginning.

He was always surprised by the way Justin’s paintings made him feel.

Brian stepped further in the room and then frowned as he noticed something, or rather, someone conspicuously missing. The start of a new painting was there, just as he thought it would be, but the artist was nowhere to be seen.

Confused, he paused and then thoroughly scanned the room once more, knowing he couldn’t have gone far as the paint was still drying, and he would have heard him moving about if he’d left. And then he smiled when he found Justin standing mostly in shadow by one of the large, ceiling to floor windows, quietly  watching the snow fall. The only thing visible was his face and hair where the cool, winter moonlight fell on it, casting an ethereal glow and gilting the fine blond strands that fell nearly to his shoulders.

God, he was so fucking beautiful it made it hard to breathe.

Swallowing thickly, Brian stared at his husband and pushed past the constriction of his throat with some difficulty. His husband. It still overwhelmed him that he could finally - finally - apply those words to Justin considering how their first attempt had turned out. That he was finally here, in this studio that Brian had built him years before.

Even after five years of him being back from New York, Brian still couldn’t believe that Justin was actually still in his life, let alone sharing it with him.

And to think, he’d nearly lost this man three times - twice to death (and if he ever got his hands on Hobbs or the person that planted the bomb alone, he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions) and once due to his own folly.

It was of course the latter that he continued to beat himself up over. The first two had been out of his hands, but New York...that was all on him. He had been a complete idiot when he pushed Justin off of Mt. Kinney and forced him to go to New York to pursue his art career. It had seemed like the right thing at the time, but the two lonely, miserable years afterward had made him realize that he’d - that they’d - made the wrong decision.

Yeah, they both needed time to grow as people. And yeah, Justin needed time to focus on his career. And yeah, he can even see how if they had gotten married then, it would have been an unmitigated disaster and they would have never made it.

But.

He also should have listened to Justin when he’d said he could paint anywhere. He shouldn’t have listened to the people intent on separating them. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to let go of the one person that knew him better than he knew himself.

They could have found a way to make it all work without Justin leaving.

But he was Brian Fucking Kinney, and he’d known better.

What a fucking laugh.

It certainly hadn’t helped that his so-called friends had all but paved the way for getting Justin out of his life. He could fucking kill Lindsay to this day for her interference. Had she’d never come over with that stupid article, and insisted that this was Justin’s chance of lifetime, he would have remained blissfully unaware of it and actually fucking listened to what Justin had to say about his so-called opportunity. That one action had caused so much heartache on both of their sides.

(And truthfully, neither he nor Justin had ever fully forgiven her for her actions.)

But he also knew that the true blame lay with him. He had been too busy trying to give Justin everything that he thought Justin needed, he’d forgotten to ask the man himself what he wanted.

And then, after being treated coldly, after hearing from fucking everyone how he couldn’t put his life on hold for a relationship, Justin had finally grown tired of fighting everyone and left.

And it was only after that Brian truly realized how fucking painful it would be.

Pretending to be asleep and letting Justin walk out the door and into the unknown had been one of the single most painful moments of his life, preceded only by the morning after prom and the night he’d heard about the bombing and couldn’t get Justin on the phone.

Those three events stood out in his mind as the times he’d thought he’d lost Justin for good.

Most people would think that the Ethan thing would also be on that list, but it didn’t even rank in his top ten. As much as it had hurt that night, he’d known without a doubt that the relationship wouldn’t last. He’d had Ethan’s number from the very first time they’d met; he’d known that he was full of shit and his promises were nothing but hot air. But he hadn’t stopped Justin because it was his life and it was his mistake to make.

He knew all his friends had chalked his actions up to him being a callous asshole and that he’d purposely pushed Justin off Mt. Kinney because he refused to acknowledge how much Justin meant to him. They’d only gotten it partially right. Yeah, he was an asshole; he fully admitted to that. And yes, he had purposely pushed Justin off of Mt. Kinney, but not because he refused to face his feelings. (He’d always known how he felt about the twat; it was admitting it aloud that had always been the real issue)

He’d done it because he had been treating Justin as an adult who knew his own mind.

Justin wasn’t happy. He’d wanted things that Brian couldn’t provide at the time. Things he still had difficulty with. He would never be the romantic. For all his work in advertising, flowery words were not his thing. He dealt with that shit all day at work and he refused to employ them at home. He was straightforward and plain spoke to the point of being blunt, and that was how he liked it. You couldn’t come back later and claim the message was misunderstood if you told it like it was.

(After all, how much more plain spoken could he have gotten than saying, “I want you around for a long time,” or “...and when I come home, I’ll also be doing exactly what I wanna do - coming home to you,” or any other number of ways that he’d told Justin that he fucking wanted him there?)

But he digressed.

Ian had been a non-issue. As had their break up before the bombing.

He’d known that Justin would eventually make his way back to his side.

But New York; God, he fucking hated New York with a passion these days. Which is a bit surreal as it was once the place he couldn’t get to fast enough when he was younger. But New York now represented everything that had gone wrong in his life just when he’d finally gotten the courage up to give the twat everything he’d wanted - marriage, a house in the country and all the romance his little, lesbionic heart could stand.

(Yet another reason he didn’t do romance - it fucking backfired every time he’d tried.)

When Justin left for New York, he was certain he’d never see him again. Oh, he knew Justin had said they would see each other all the time, but Brian had always been a pessimist. He’d fully expected Justin to get there and love it; to finally realize that there was so much out there and so many better prospects. Men who would fall all over themselves to give him everything that his precious, romantic heart could desire.

Once he walked out the door, he was certain that would be the last time he’d see his boy. That he’d get there, get caught up in the excitement of his new career and the pulse of the city and eventually the calls and e-mails and visits would dwindle, leaving Brian waiting in Britin on pins and needles until finally Justin closed the door on them for good.

And it almost happened.

All because he had been too fucking noble, and listened to the words of his not-so-well meaning friends, and he’d set Justin free.

Brian had kept contact to a minimum. He wanted Justin to get established without his interference because God knew his beautiful, stubborn, oh-so-independent boy would be pissed if Brian had done anything to help him along the way. So when the calls came every day, he tried to limit his time with Justin, only taking the occasional call when missing him got to be too much. The same with e-mails, he kept them short and succinct and impersonal, when all he had wanted to do was beg the little twat to come home. And then finally, when it came for their first visit, he cancelled at the last moment, citing work as an issue.

But Justin was having none of it.

Oh, no. His bright, beautiful boy came charging back, in an absolute tizzy, on a ticket that likely cost him his food allowance for the next couple of months and ripped him a new one. God, he had been so furious, all but spitting in his rage and so fucking hot that Brian couldn’t resist him when he threw Brian down on his bed and fucked the shit out of him.

And then he proceeded to to tell Brian what an asshole he thought he was.

Biting his lips, he blinked back the tears that had been forming in his eyes and snorted, a small grin forming on his lips as he thought back to that night. And what a night it had been. God, he got hard as a rock every time he thought of it. Looking back at his husband, his smile broadened as he noticed that Justin had startled at the sudden noise.

Speaking of fucking.

Justin returned the grin with the sunshine bright one of his own as Brian walked across the room and came to a stand still behind him, pressing their bodies together back to chest. He rested his jaw against Justin’s temple, sighing with pleasure when Justin tipped his head back and began pressing small kisses against his neck. Humming, he indulged his husband for a moment and then tipped his head down and captured his lips in a slow, gentle kiss.

Had he mentioned how much he loved this man?

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Justin asked as he pulled away, his tone hushed, as if he didn’t want to break the quiet moment just yet.

“No; the bed was cold and I…” Brian paused and grimaced a bit at what he was about to reveal. He took a deep breath. “I missed you. I can never sleep when you’re not there,” he continued, grumbling the words under his breath, his cheeks growing hot in his discomfort.

God knows he loves Justin, and he trusted him not to make light of, or take advantage of, his feelings; but he still hated opening himself up to any kind of vulnerability with a passion. Jack and Joanie sure as hell had made sure of that.

Justin smiled his bright, sunshine grin, but remained silent as he turned and pressed another soft kiss against Brian’s lips before playfully biting him on the jaw. Brian smiled tenderly, remembering the other times he’d done that and ran his hand through Justin’s fine, blond hair, pushing it back from his face. Justin reciprocated, petting his hair with a tender look and then cupped the nape of his neck with one hand.

“What are you doing up so late?” Brian asked, curious as to what had driven his husband from their bed in the middle of the night.

“Just...thinking,” Justin said hesitantly, rolling his lips between his teeth.

“About?” Brian asked, knowing his husband well enough to know he was hedging.

Justin averted his gaze and shifted uncomfortably, obviously reluctant to say anything.

“Sunshine...” Brian arched a knowing brow.

“About New York and how much I regret letting everyone talk me into going,” Justin huffed reluctantly, still looking away from Brian.

Brian gave an internal, mirthless laugh. Fucking New York. He should have known. It always came up this time of year. Sometimes they were so in sync it was eerie.

“Oh?” Brian said, fishing for more. New York was a sore point for both of them; so, they rarely discussed those years and the events leading up to them. But he also knew that a lot of good came out of those years and that Justin wasn’t being fully truthful.

“Well, not completely,” Justin admitted just as reluctantly. That was more like it. “I am glad I met Angie; she’s been an amazing agent. And I can’t complain about some of the experiences…”

Justin bit his lower lip and trailed off.

“But?” Brian prodded, knowing there was much more to that statement.

“But, almost losing you…” Justin said, his eyes full of regret and remembered pain; and fuck, he hated that he’d been the one to put that there. Justin shrugged. “Sometimes... it feels like it wasn’t worth it.”

“Sunshine…” Brian chided, even if he had been thinking the same himself just minutes before.

“It wasn’t, Brian,” Justin insisted, expelling a harsh breath. “Think of all that we missed because I was gone those two years.”

“Think of all you gained,” Brian countered.

“I guess.” Justin huffed and looked away in exasperation.

“What’s done is done, Sunshine,” Brian continued, brushing Justin’s hair back and holding it there with both hands as he pressed their foreheads together. “You’re here now; that’s all that matters to me. It was only time.”

Justin snorted and gave him a mock I-hate-you look at those words; the ones that seemed so romantic at the time, (and they were), but still had ripped him apart to say. Because, had Brian been successful, there wouldn’t have been any more time.

“You’re still an asshole,” Justin muttered, referring to his first few months in New York.

“You knew that when you met me,” Brian snorted. “And stayed anyways. No take backs.”

“As if I could ever leave you after all this time,” Justin whispered against his lips.

“I know,” Brian said, smirking as Justin gave a mock affronted gasp. “I’m irresistible.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, is what you are,” Justin countered, laughing when Brian pulled away to glare at him. Brian opened his mouth to comment, but only wheezed when Justin poked him firmly in the ribs. “Don’t even.”

Brian just gave his husband a faux innocent look.

“Please,” Justin snorted as he slid his hands down Brian’s back and wrapped his arms around his waist, all but melting into him. “I’m so onto you.”

“You always have been, Sunshine,” Brian said, a hitch in his voice. “Always have been.”

Justin bit his bottom lip, his eyes wet with unshed tears, and cupped his jaw. He stared at Brian for a long moment, his heart in his eyes and then rose on his tiptoes at the same time that he’d pulled Brian’s head down, crushing their lips together. Brian moaned and parted his lips, sliding his hand to cup the back of Justin’s head as he deepened the kiss, tangling their tongues together in a dance old as time. God, he could never get enough of this man.

Brian mapped Justin’s mouth, tracing his tongue over his teeth and the soft interior of it as Justin shuddered and groaned against him, his hands fisting into Brian’s hair. Grinding his hips against Justin’s, Brian licked, sucked and nipped at Justin’s lips until finally the need for air forced them to part and even then he couldn’t relinquish them fully they were so fucking addictive.

“Love me,” Justin whispered against his lips.

“Always, Sunshine,” Brian whispered back as he sunk to his knees, taking Justin down with him, and then spread him out on the rug beneath them. “Always.”