March 23 (Part Two)

Justin felt like an asshole.

His mother had called his expected reaction the day before, and rather than actually stopping and thinking, he'd proven that she had been right in spectacular form. Setting his brush aside, he stared at the piece – Lies of Omission –  in front of him; when he came into the studio, he'd been livid and needed an outlet. But he also knew that using pastels wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as the grip of a paint brush in his hand and paint slashing across canvas.

So, he'd broken out the left over natural paints from Sunbeam's room, pulled out a prepared canvas that he'd had stored away for such occasions, grabbed his brushes; and then, he'd just painted, using the colors he'd mixed to express what he was feeling.

The piece started out as one big block of red, bright and bold across the white of canvas, as bright as his fury at everything that had come crashing down on him the past few days – remembering Lindsay's betrayal and Simon's perverted plans; finding out that Brian had been hiding things from him; the emergence of this Blaine character, his doppelganger, who was doing his best to thwart their happiness; and one couldn't forget his ever present friendly neighborhood stalker, lurking in the shadows. It had all crashed down on him while he was talking to Brian in the study, leaving him seething in anger and with no outlet.

That was why, when Brian mentioned the new developments, something had just snapped inside Justin and he'd lost it, whether Brian had been deserving of it or not. And, yes; while Justin was still angry that Brian hadn't told him about the developments, he realized that his reaction had been over the top and more than a little hypocritical. But it was like he had been standing outside himself as it happened; and then the next moment he was storming away without resolving any of the things that he'd intended to when he'd first walked in.

And then, when he'd entered his studio, he knew that he needed to paint; for the entirety of his life, whenever he'd been emotionally overwhelmed, Justin had turned to art. Some people sang, some people wrote, others exercised or played sports, and still others turned to their vices. Justin painted; something that he'd stopped out of concern for Sunbeam. But that lack of expression had him so muddled and confused, that he hadn't known how to feel these days. And he'd desperately needed to get that equilibrium back.

So, paint he did, starting with the most predominant of his emotions.

Red, bright red, brilliant red, contradictory red – the color of anger, of passion, and fire; of war and danger and of spilled blood. Of love; a love that had sprung when he was barely a man grown and had thrived, flourished with every passing moment of his life with a bold, brash and brilliant man. It saturated the canvas, purging from his system in bold, sweeping strokes until there was nothing left, leaving him hollowed out.

And then he'd stood there, staring at that block of red, his temper slowly dissipating until it was just a slow simmer in the back of his mind. He'd always loved this color, despite its contradictory nature, because it was bold and eye-catching and passionate – an emotionally-intense color that vibrated on the canvas. It was powerful and energetic and erotic; it evoked courage and longing and will power.

He loved using it when he could, but often held back as it was not a passive color, and sometimes it felt far too revealing of himself and his nature.

Sighing, Justin had studied the canvas; after he'd bled all those passionate and prominent feelings onto the canvas, it gave him the chance to focus on his other emotions; the ones that lay underneath this distracting wash of rage and passion and, yes, even love. And then he'd picked up the red and yellow paints and mixed three different hues of orange for the next stage of his painting.

He had smiled as a memory flit through his head; he vividly recalled the day he told Brian and his client, years ago, when he was nothing more than an intern at Vanguard and trying to worm his way back into Brian's life, that orange was the new blue. He remembered telling them that it was the opposite of something cool, that it was hot. But, orange was much more complex than his simple explanation afforded at the time.

It too had a contradictory nature; which made sense since it was a blend of red, the color of the passions, and yellow, the color of joy.

When most people look at the color, they see it's bright, almost cheerful nature, which energizes and evokes the appetite. It was the yellow that did that. It was the color of enthusiasm and determination and creativity and happiness and success. It gave off the sensation of heat and made you think of tropical climes; it was highly visible and often a color that had an invigorating effect and stimulated mental activity.

Yet, in one of its brightest forms, it was also the color of warning and of potential hazards strewn in your path. And in some of its darker hues, ones heavy in red, it could evoke distrust and deceit, dominance and aggression, and the thirst for action. Yet it could also evoke desire, sexual passion and pleasure.

Justin started with a hazard orange, and dabbed it onto the canvas in areas, his skin crawling as he did so. This color represented so many things in his life, both past and present; but today it represented the most prominent threat in his life – his stalker and this Blaine character. The fact that they had both gotten so close to taking out both he and Brian, and potentially Sunbeam, made him sick to his stomach. And the very thought that Brian could have died…

Justin swallowed and continued painting, adding some red-orange and a lighter, muted orange, almost gold in areas as he saw fit. And then he'd left off, letting the paint dry a bit as he'd paced the room, trying to make peace with the emotions the painting drew out of him, a very necessary purge after holding it all inside all these years.

Lindsay's deception had cut him deeper than he'd wanted to acknowledge at the time; and it was something that he'd hidden under the seething anger when he'd found out. But it'd still been there, seeping poison and pain beneath the wall of ice that he'd surrounded it with; and he'd never really dealt with that betrayal. He'd just buried it. And that's what it had been on his side too – he had once thought of Lindsay as a friend and mentor. He'd thought that she'd always had the best of intentions in mind when she'd pushed his art. He'd never even suspected that there had been a much more sinister reason behind it.

To have that thrown in his face when he'd overheard Simon, it had broken his heart; and not just for him, but for Brian and Gus as well. They'd all believed in her at one time and he couldn't even begin to fathom how they all could have been so wrong, even with the custody case. He should have known better – a leopard can't change its spots.

So, when he'd learned that Brian had been keeping things from him, it had hit that recently purged sore spot and evoked an irrational reaction. He'll openly admit it, he overreacted to the news; he should have stayed and faced the consequences of his actions rather than running off to his studio and hiding from the truth. But faced with the Blaine information on top of far too many blows as it was, he couldn't deal with it.

Walking back over to his piece, Justin grabbed three last colors – blue, yellow and black – to put the final touches to it, starting with the blue.

Blue, cool blue, calming blue, soothing blue – a cerebral color, it was the color of trust and loyalty, of wisdom and intelligence, of faith and truth. Like the truth that had finally spilled from his and Brian's lips, leaving behind it the feeling of relief and sorrow. It had been necessary; and yes, it should have happened years ago, but now that it had, he felt as if a huge burden had lifted from his shoulders; but he had also been sad that it had come down to this – the two of them occupying different spaces rather than facing it together.

It was also the color of protection; an emotion that often had him and Brian holding things back in an effort to spare the other pain or worry. And it was also to blame for a lot of their problems; not in the sense that it was wrong of them to want to protect the other, but because it often led to them keeping secrets, their greatest downfall. And that was partially his fault; and it was partially Brian's fault. They were both right in their desires to protect, and they were both so very wrong in their execution.

Justin slashed the color across the canvas and then turned to a much more hopeful color – yellow, the color of joy and happiness, the color of sunshine and warmth, the color of cheer and hope. And he smiled because Justin couldn't help it, as it reminded him of Brian calling him Sunshine, and of their little Sunbeam. Both things filled him with such great joy despite all the stress in his life. And they also filled him with hope for the future. He knew that they'd work this out eventually and come back stronger than before.

And then he frowned, as he turned to the black; it was one color that he couldn't associate with anything other than ill intent. And for that reason, he used it sparingly, preferring to use the darker forms of other colors for shadows than a true stark black. But given the incidents that led him here, he couldn't complete this painting without its inclusion. As there was a definite taint, an evil, hovering in the background and drawing closer every day.

He shuddered as he recalled Kellie pulling him away from a tainted drink, and dabbed the black around the yellow, shadowing that happiness and joy because a drugged drink could have done irreparable harm to Sunbeam. He thought of the Lindsay's remorseless face and added it to the hazard orange in spots, bisecting it in thin lines. He thought of Brian potentially lying in a coma had he not held off on his GHB-laced drink, and splattered it throughout the blue, shadowing it with his stalkers ill will towards his husband.

And then he'd set his paints aside, stood back and stared, his throat clenching as he took in the painting. It made him feel uneasy in some aspects, due to its revealing nature; but it also left him feeling revitalized and ready to face the things that needed to be said and heard when he and Brian came back together. But he didn't think that the best place to address any of this was here. It was too easy for them to storm off into their safe havens.

They needed a neutral zone; an enclosed place that wouldn't allow them to stray too far without stumbling onto each other eventually and forcing them to talk things out. Most importantly, they needed some place where they wouldn't have to deal with the running interference of well-meaning, but nosy family members. And he was certain that he knew just the place to do all of this in if he could swing it.

They'd used this place a few times when they'd just needed to get away from the family and decompress; plus with the close quarters they would, hopefully, get their lips moving so that they could work beyond their anger and focus a game plan.

And, he admitted, it was also something he wanted to do in partial apology to his husband; one that would show Brian that he was really ready to talk about things. Justin supposed that he could just say all of these things aloud; but Brian had always been a man of action, and he'd always believed that actions spoke louder than words. Hopefully his husband would see, and appreciate, this gesture for what it was.

With that in mind, Justin picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number, waiting for it to connect; and then he startled slightly when a voice that he hadn't expected answered.

"Hey, Baby," Emmett chirped, but Justin could hear the worry underneath the other man's cheer. Justin sighed; he'd hoped that by calling Drew directly, he could miss the incoming inquisition. But obviously, the Fates weren't smiling on him today.

"Hey Em," Justin said a touch wearily, already dreading his friend's well-meaning nosiness; this was exactly what he wanted to prevent by getting away. He loved the family, but they were a bunch of busy bodies. And why everyone felt the need to butt their noses into his and Brian's relationship, he'd never know.

"How are you doing today?" Emmett asked, his voice laced with concern; and then he lowered his voice as if expecting to be overheard. "Did you and Big Bad work everything out?"

"I'm fine," Justin said, answering the first question, but refraining from addressing the second one as he and Brian were no closer to a resolution due to his own queen out.

"That doesn't sound very reassuring," Emmett huffed; Justin rolled his eyes at his friend's blatant ply for more information.

"No really, I am fine," Justin said firmly, trying to say without words that he didn't really want to discuss anything.

"If you're sure," Emmett said doubtfully; he paused and the pressed on. "You know I'm here if you need to talk."

"I know, Em," Justin said in a gentle tone; and he did appreciate the offer, but right now he wanted to talk to Emmett's other partner-in-crime, so that he could get the ball rolling on his plans. "Can we talk about it later? I really need to speak to Drew if at all possible."

"Yeah, he's here," Emmett huffed, obviously realizing he wasn't going to get anything more out Justin.

"Can you put him on for me?" Justin asked; and then smirked when he heard Emmett's long, drawn out and pained sigh. He shook his head at his friend's dramatics. "I promise that things will make more sense after I talk to him."

"Okay, Baby," Emmett huffed again; and Justin could hear a door opening ana closing in the background. "Just give me a moment."

Justin nodded as he heard a clatter, and assumed that Emmett had set the phone down; likely in another attempt to gather more information from Justin. After all, if Drew had to come into the room, he was more likely to stay there, wherever Emmett had been sitting; and then Emmett could piece together information based on Drew's side of the conversation. His friend was far too predictable some days.

"Hey, Justin," Drew said as soon as he picked up the phone. "What can I do for you?" And then he paused and huffed out an annoyed sigh. "Just a minute. No…stop…Emmett, go sit down; I'll tell you about it later." Justin snorted as there was another pause and a voice in the background. "No, I am not putting it on speaker phone. I'm going into the office and I'll tell you about it later. Nosy Queen. Alright, I'm back."

"Thanks for that," Justin huffed a laugh. "I love him, but this needs to be solved between Brian and me without outside interference."

"I get you," Drew said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Do you remember that trip that Brian and I took immediately after I moved back to Pittsburgh?" Justin asked, purposely leaving it vague just in case Emmett was attempting to listen in despite being told to butt out.

"Yes," Drew chuckled, well aware of the time he talking about since Justin had been complaining to Drew one night about people always showing up at the loft and interrupting his and Brian's alone time. "As I recall you pissed a lot of people off when you two took off for three weeks without telling anyone where you were going."

"They still haven't figured out that it was you that helped us escape," Justin snickered, making the other man laugh. Drew had been pivotal in, not only their escape from Pittsburgh, but he actually had owned their means of escape.

"Let's keep it that way," Drew huffed, and Justin could almost see the other man rolling his eyes. "I really don't need them on my doorstep all pissy because I helped you two get the 'honeymoon' that you needed before dealing with the family."

"My lips are sealed," Justin promised, and then he chewed on his bottom lip. "And on that note, I was hoping to employ your services once again."

"You want the same thing?" Drew asked immediately, his tone sobering as he'd likely put things together. "Can you even take that much time off."

"Oh, not for three weeks," Justin said, waving it off; as much as he'd like to get away for that long, it wasn't practical. Brian had been taking too much time off as it was. "We can't afford that kind of time away; I was thinking more like leaving here tonight, staying there and then using it for the day before coming back home tomorrow night."

"That's possible," Drew said, sucking on his lip thoughtfully. "You're lucky that I used it recently; usually I have it stored away this time of year. Let me make a couple of calls and I'll get everything worked out for you."

"Thanks Drew," Justin said, relieved to hear that it was possible. He did know that this was a little early to be using it, but he wanted some place contained. "I just think we need a change of scenery and a neutral space to work out all the lingering issues."

"And most importantly, to get away from everyone else while you do it," Drew huffed, knowing the true reason for Justin wanting to get the fuck out of Dodge.

"That too," Justin agreed.

"Give me an hour or so," Drew said. "And then I'll call or text you with the details."

"Thanks Drew," Justin sighed in relief, and started putting up his paints, cleaning his brushes and straightening the surrounding area so he could focus on the potential trip. "I appreciate it."

"Not a problem," Drew said. "Talk to you soon."

Justin hung up and then immediately dialed a second number as he opened the studio door; he strode towards the bedroom, noting that that the study door was closed as he passed. He sighed, and entered the room, putting on as much of a happy face as he could muster once the phone had finally been picked up.

"Ted; hey, it's Justin. Ha ha; smart-ass. Yes, I'm well aware that you have caller ID. Look, I just wanted to call and tell you that Brian won't be in tomorrow. We're calling a personal day. It shouldn't be too bad as I know he deliberately kept this week light due to the shower and Leo being in town. Great. We'll see you on Tuesday."

And then Justin hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed as he walked into their closet. He pulled out a small, carry-on suitcase and swiftly packed their toiletries and a couple of changes of clothing each for them; and then set it aside before going off to find Brian.

… … … … …

Justin huffed; once he had finished packing, he'd gone to the study to talk to Brian, only to find the door open and the man nowhere in sight. That had then led to a search that had taken Justin throughout the entire house for his missing husband and he still hadn't turned up hide nor hair of him; and Justin knew that Brian had to be somewhere on the property as his car was still n the garage.

That had led him right back where he started; well almost where he'd started his search. But it did lead him back upstairs, just in the opposite direction and back into his studio. It was the only other place Brian could be unless he'd gone for another walk on the property; and Justin seriously doubted that. An outdoorsman Brian was not.

Stepping into his studio, Justin froze when he found his husband standing in front of his newest painting, a pensive frown on his face. Well, he knew that Brian would see it eventually. Squaring his shoulders, Justin crept up behind him; although, he wasn't intentionally being sneaky; he knew that his husband had been aware of his presence from the moment he stepped over the threshold. But he was curious as to what Brian saw when he was looking at the painting and he didn't want to interfere with his examination of it.

"Still mad at me?" Brian asked, looking over his shoulder with an unreadable expression; Justin huffed and didn't know how to answer that question.

"Yes…no…not really?" Justin hedged, trying to find a way to best explain his jumbled emotions. Even though the painting had helped him gain a little perspective, he was still struggling to put his emotions all in their place.

"You look like you're still mad," Brian hummed, looking back at the painting with a sigh.

Justin sighed as well, because he could see where Brian might have gotten that impression based on the composition. He stared at the painting, which as always, revealed things even he hadn't realized about himself. Yes, anger was the predominant emotion driving the painting, but was it anger at Brian? Or was it anger at the situation they'd found themselves in? Or even more deeply buried, was it anger at himself?

Brian looked over his shoulder as Justin sighed with frustration; he arched a brow and waited for Justin's response. And while that was something that further irritated and frustrated him, Justin knew that he owed Brian a response.

"Right now, I think I'm mostly mad at myself," Justin said a bit hesitantly; Brian's eyebrows shot up in surprise as if he hadn't expected that answer. Justin huffed. "Not that you're completely off the hook about Blaine and the recent updates; but being mad at you would be hypocritical given everything I held back as well."

"Why mad at yourself?" Brian asked, genuinely puzzled by Justin's answer.

"Mom called it yesterday," Justin explained with a self-depreciative smile.

"Called what?" Brian asked when Justin paused, trying to decide how much of his and his mother's conversation to impart. And then he decided to tell Brian all of it as he deserved to know he had his mother's support.

"She got on my case about keeping everything from you; for not telling you myself when it happened," Justin said, walking over to the chaise.

He smiled when he saw the plate of Twinkies, fruit and whipped cream that was obviously meant to be a peace offering from Brian. He turned and smiled at Brian, his heart fluttering that even angry this man was taking care of him. Brian blushed and looked away, but not before he saw the lingering surprise on his face.

"Don't look so surprised," Justin said as he sat down on the chaise and picked up the plate. "She's championed you before when I was being particularly dense about something; wanting to only see my side when I should have been putting myself into your shoes."

"And it surprises me every time," Brian said as he walked over to the chaise; he sat behind Justin, giving him the back support that he needed. Justin leaned back into his arms and closed his eyes, just happy to be there as Brian pressed his lips to Justin's temple. "You're her baby; it's only natural that she'd side with you."

"Brian, my mother is well aware of my flaws," Justin snorted. "She does not always side with me. She will support me. She will show a united front when it's needed. But if she felt that I was in the wrong, she would tear into my ass later. WASP, remember?"

"You guys have the oddest rules sometimes," Brian complained not for the first time. "I'll never fully understand that mentality."

"I don't even understand that mentality sometimes," Justin said as he pulled away and tipped his head back to look at his husband in the eyes. "And I was raised in that environment." They both chuckled, and then Justin sighed. "We're getting off topic."

"We do that far too easily," Brian agreed, rolling his lips under.

"She pointed out," Justin continued as he picked at his fruit. "That if the roles had been reversed, and it was Daphne that did this to you…"

"Daphne would never do that," Brian automatically defended, and then grimaced when Justin gave him an exasperated look; not that Justin wasn't grateful for Brian's staunch defense of his best friend, but that wasn't the point he was trying to make. Brian mimed zipping his lips. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"That if it were Daphne that did it to you," Justin continued, his lips turning down pensively. "And you hadn't told me, but I found out from others, or in a similar setting, that I would queen out ten times worse than you had." Justin paused and grimaced. "And she was right. That's exactly what happened when you told me about Blaine."

"You have every right to be angry at me, Sunshine," Brian said, not about to let Justin take the full blame; which Justin appreciated, even if it wasn't necessary. He could own up to his mistakes. "I was keeping things from you too. Emmett was right to call me on my hypocrisy. No matter my excuses, I should have come clean in the beginning."

"And I should have done the same," Justin added, slightly amused that they both were now trying to shoulder the blame. "I look back now and all of those reasons that I used to bolster my decision - they were just excuses." Justin swallowed thickly. "The truth was, deep down, there was this niggling fear that, while you'd initially be unhappy, you'd let it go as you've done before. Or, that you might not believe me at all. And that wasn't fair to you, because while you may have held off while you gathered evidence, you've never outright accused me of being a liar."

"I've implied it," Brian said, referring to the time with Ethan, where Brian had engineered that little scene between the three of them in the diner, meant to show Justin that he was very well aware of what he had been doing behind his back.

"I was lying to you then, Brian," Justin huffed, not wanting to get into that particular time; Ethan was a mistake he'd prefer to leave in the past, when Justin had been more in love with the idea of being in love with Ethan than anything else. "You just let me know that you were aware of it."

Brian hummed and fell silent; as did Justin since he didn't know where to go from that point. There were so many things they needed to discuss, and not nearly enough time to address them all in if he wanted to get on the road at a decent time tonight.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked hesitantly; but this, he needed to know. He didn't want Brian to be confined in a small place. Well, a smaller place, if he was still pissed off at Justin. That never ended well. Although, he was pretty sure that by his current actions, Brian had let go of a lot of his own anger.

"Yes…a bit," Brian said, honest and blunt as ever; Justin hadn't expected him to be otherwise. He knew that he'd fucked up by keeping the Simon debacle a secret. "I'm not as angry as when I started, but it still hurts that you didn't confide in me three years ago."

"How do you know…" Justin asked, and then huffed when Brian arched a brow.

"That it was about three years ago?" Brian finished, and then huffed a laugh. "It wasn't that difficult to figure out once I had all the pieces, Sunshine. That was when you started mentoring Chad. And your dislike for Simon intensified into utter loathing."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Justin said, cringing as he thought back to that time period. He had been incandescent with rage; and truth be told, Justin's decision to mentor Chad had very little to do with the kid's actual talent and everything to do with sticking it to Simon. "I wasn't hiding my feelings very well during that time."

"You shouldn't have felt the need to, Justin," Brian chided, casting a censorious look his way. "You should have trusted that I would be there no matter who was involved."

Justin ducked his head and flushed; he knew that was Brian's true sticking point when it came to the Simon issue. And he didn't blame Brian one bit for being angry and hurt; trust was paramount in any relationship. And keeping secrets, even to spare the feelings of the people you love, could destroy that fragile trust in seconds.

Brian sighed and continued to make his point.

"Lindsay lost a lot of ground with me when she became the catalyst in your move to New York; not to mention following that by taking my son to another country without a care to what either he or myself felt about it. And she knew it. Why do you think she started acting the way she did? She was trying to pull me back into line; only it backfired on her. It made me wary and suspicious of her motivations. That was the reason I put a detective on her. Something wasn't adding up and I needed to know what she was doing."

"I'm surprised you didn't learn of her involvement with Simon then," Justin murmured, and couldn't help but wonder why that hadn't been. Surely Lindsay must have taken a trip or two to see Simon during that period of time; they'd seemed thick as thieves back then.

"As am I," Brian admitted, and then shrugged. "But, at the same time, I'm not. As you pointed out not long after, she'd really fucked herself over when she slept with Sam Auerbach. That incident tainted her image in the art world, and from what little I know of Simon, I doubt he'd want her around his other guests."

It was Justin's turn to hum this time as they fell silent. He picked at the fruit, not really all that hungry, but knowing that he needed to eat something as breakfast had been hours before and he'd missed lunch as he'd been too wrapped up in his painting. Setting the plate aside, Justin turned his body to face Brian.

"I do trust you, Brian," he said, biting his lower lip as he reached up and cupped Brian's jaw, rubbing his thumb against his husband's cheek. Brian rolled his lips under and stared down into Justin's face. "I just…it was…"

"A knee-jerk reaction?" Brian guessed when Justin had trouble putting the feelings into words; and while that explained it in a way, it didn't fully cover it.

"Sort of?" Justin said with a helpless shrug. "I just knew that this was going to hurt you; both you and Gus for that matter, and I wanted to spare you that. And yes, there was a little fear involved that you would get angry at what I told you. It really hadn't been that long befoe that you would have, not jumped down my throat when I criticized Michael or Lindsay, but definitely would have made your displeasure known."

"But I still would have listened, Sunshine," Brian said; and Justin couldn't help looking shamefaced at that because he knew that Brian was right. "I may not have liked what I was hearing. And I might have even hoped that you were wrong; not because I doubted you, but because I would have hated what that said about the mother of my son and someone I once saw as a great friend. But, I would have listened; and I would have looked into it. We could have solved this years ago if you had just told me about it."

"I know," Justin sighed, looking away from Brian; he took a deep, shaky breath and tried to stave off the tears prickling behind his eyes, but wasn't very successful when one rolled down his cheek.

Fucking hormones; they were killing him.

Brian sighed and grabbed his chin, turning his face back towards him. He slid his hand up and wiped the tear away before pulling Justin into his arms and resting their heads together. "We can't keep doing this, Sunshine. Keeping secrets to protect the other is what has always weakened us in the past. We are stronger when we work together."

Justin nodded. He closed his eyes, smiling a little when Brian pressed his lips to his brow. He was feeling tired, and hoped that Drew would get back to him soon, so that they could get on their way. He really wanted to get to bed early if at all possible tonight. Sighing, he perked up when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Reaching in, he pulled it out, entered the security code and smiled at the message. And then he looked up at Brian.

"You up for a car trip?" Justin asked, grinning up at his obviously confused husband.

"That all depends, Sunshine," Brian said slowly, arching a brow.

"I thought we might get out of here for the night," Justin said; he rolled his lips under and then continued. "And tomorrow as well; I talked to Ted and asked him to clear your schedule. We would come back tomorrow night. I just thought it would be nice to get away for the night, settle things between us and decide our next step now that everyone knows, away from all interfering busy bodies in our lives."

Brian stared down at him, his eyes full of questions, ones that Justin had no intentions of answering just now; Brian would figure it out soon enough once they were on the road. Brian huffed, but did smile, and this time it reached his eyes as he kissed the tip of Justin's nose and murmured.

"I'd love nothing more, Sunshine."