Brian was already lighting a cigarette by the time Justin stepped out into the back yard. Closing the door quietly behind him, he hesitated for a few seconds before moving forward, stopping just behind Brian. Cold, he wrapped his arms around himself tightly.

Exhaling a puff a smoke, Brian laughed darkly. He hadn't turned around but he obviously knew Justin was there. "Seems Brian's little secret is getting harder and harder to keep."

Surprised, Justin's eyes widened. That was the first time Brian had even vaguely admitted to having a drinking problem, and he felt ridiculously proud and stupidly depressed at the same time. Cautious about touching him just yet, Justin leaned closer. "They'll probably just think you had a bad day or something. I'm sure Mel's in there right now telling everyone how this is typical behaviour for you."

Snorting, Brian took another drag, staring up at the sky. "And how I'm a shitty father, a drug addict, and a bad role model for queers everywhere. Shit," he continued, "telling them wouldn't make it any better either."

Justin had never believed for one second that Brian would tell the others, but the fact that the idea had even crossed his mind definitely interested him. "Why not?"

"You think I wanna take that bullshit sympathy? Or blame?"

What the hell? "Blame?"

"Oh, poor Brian," he replied in a mocking tone, gesturing with the hand holding the cigarette, "it's so horrible that he has to go through this. But you know, he brought it on himself." Pausing, he shook his head and took another drag. "Fuck that." Exhaling another breath of smoke, he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground and stamped it out.

His friends weren't like that. Not really. "Brian..."

Sighing, Brian finally turned around to face him. "Is this the part where you try to give me some spiritually uplifting and entirely too muncher-like speech?"

Trying not to smile at the fact that Brian knew him so well, Justin finally felt safe to touch him. "Shut up," he warned, grabbing Brian's sides and looking up at him. "Your friends are good people. Yeah, they can be assholes sometimes, but so can you. They're human," he shrugged. "No one's perfect."

Studying him for a few moments, Brian somehow managed to nod mockingly. "That was very...deep."

"Fuck off," Justin grinned, glad that he seemed to be feeling better. "You know, I was going to offer to suck you off but now I'm not so sure."

"Well, we can't have that," Brian arched an eyebrow before swooping in for a kiss.

Startled, Justin quickly recovered and pulled Brian closer, kissing him back. They still weren't kissing when they had sex so Justin loved any moments like this one. When Brian's right hand made its way down to his ass and pushed their groins together, Justin groaned loudly, the feeling nudging his arousal up another notch.

It was always like this with them. Always.

"Ahem," a voice interrupted - Em. "Sorry to intrude..."

Cursing, Brian glared over Justin's shoulder at Emmett.

Closing his eyes, breathing heavily, Justin held onto Brian's forearms as he tried to come down without getting off.

"Really, really sorry, because that was extremely hot," Em continued, and Justin finally opened his eyes and turned to face him. He was standing inside the doorway, holding the door open. "But the 'getting old photo albums out and humiliating Michael' portion of the evening is about to begin. You two should be in here."

"Another proud Novotny tradition," Brian muttered.

With his arm wrapped around Brian's waist, Justin turned his head towards him. "I bet you secretly love it."

Brian rolled his eyes, and Justin knew he was right.

"I, uh..." Emmett began, obviously fumbling for words and looking anywhere but at the two of them. "I told them you were trying to give up smoking."

Justin winced internally. He really wasn't sure how much Brian knew he'd shared with Em - he knew he'd slipped up in the shower at one point, saying Em's name, but he'd been hoping Brian'd been too out of it to notice. Now there was no denying that Emmett at least knew the basics.

Still, he couldn't ignore the fact that that was a nice diversionary technique. It'd certainly go some way to at least keeping the others off the trail. "Thanks, Em."

Saying nothing, Brian started walking towards the house, tugging Justin along with him. When he got close enough that Emmett would have to move out of the way, he spoke. "Heard you were negative."

"I certainly am," Em replied, sounding delighted. "This is a good day for guys who want to fuck me everywhere."

Brian didn't smile, didn't smirk. He simply pushed passed him as he walked into the house. "See that it stays that way."

*

Their kind-of-routine continued. They worked, they fucked; Justin went to school. Daph had been ecstatic over the fact that he and Brian were 'seeing each other' again and continued asking for details at every opportunity. Chris Hobbs was still an asshole but Justin only had run-ins with him from time to time. Most of the time it was just an angry glare or being shouldered out of the way - nothing, really.

Mom started dropping by Deb's or the diner more and more frequently to see how he was doing. Justin wasn't sure how he felt about it. It was nice that she wanted to check on him, he supposed, but it still felt like too little too late.

The one good thing was the fact that she kept asking him what he wanted for his birthday, and Justin was pretty sure her guilt meant he was getting a kick-ass present this year.

He brought the subject up with Brian one night, as they lay on the bed post-fuck.

"Mom came by to see me again yesterday."

"Fuck," Brian groaned, reaching out to the bedside table for a cigarette. "Do we have to talk about your mother when we've just fucked?" Lighting up the cigarette, he tossed the lighter back onto the table and fell onto his back.

Laughing once, Justin nonetheless ignored the question. "It's just...weird that she's suddenly giving me all this attention. I mean I know she loves me and this whole thing isn't easy for her, it's just..." He felt the anger starting to burn inside him, something he'd been ignoring for a while. "She said she couldn't just think about my desires. And I get that she has to worry about Molly and Dad, it's just..." It came back to that phrase again. "She said she couldn't just think about my 'desires'. Like being gay is just about who I want to fuck."

"Isn't it?" Brian asked, taking a drag.

"No," Justin argued, staring up at the ceiling. "Being gay is part of who I am, but it's not my defining characteristic. She made it sound like it was."

"Christ, you like to use big words."

Justin ignored him. It wasn't his fault he did so well at school. "I don't see how my being gay is any different than my parents being straight."

"It's not," Brian replied, turning on his side to face him and resting his head on his free hand. "They make it different. And you're a little drama queen, you know that?"

Yeah, Daphne called him that sometimes. "I'm not little," he sniffed defensively.

Brian smirked, shaking his head. "You're a fucking short ass."

"I am not!" he argued, rolling onto his side so he could lean over Brian. "I'll tickle you. Don't think I won't."

Shooting him a look that said 'just try it', Brian glared. "You tickle me and not only will you be a short ass, you'll also find yourself short two balls."

Pushing Brian onto this back, Justin straddled him. "Like that'll ever happen." Tugging the cigarette out of Brian's hand, he took a drag. "You like my balls too much."

Brian seemed to consider that, snatching the cigarette away from him. "They are *very* big."

"And you're definitely a size queen," Justin murmured, leaning down to kiss him and rubbing his ass over Brian's cock. In no time at all Brian was hard, his hand reaching out to stub out his cigarette. Moaning into a kiss as Justin rotated his hips, Brian's hands slid down to Justin's ass cheeks, running over them before pulling him closer.

Gasping, Justin broke the kiss. He wanted to get off but Brian had been in a playful mood and...fuck it. He was saying it. Slowing the movement of his hips completely, Justin looked down at him. God, Brian was gorgeous. "You don't do that anymore."

Obviously unhappy with the fact that Justin had stopped moving, Brian grabbed his ass again. "What don't I fucking do anymore?"

"You don't kiss me."

"I kiss you all the-"

"When we fuck. You don't kiss me when we fuck." Pausing, he licked his lips. "Is it because of what I did?"

Frustrated, Brian tipped his head back and looked away. "I'm not into revenge. And I..." he hesitated. "I didn't think you'd fucking notice."

Surprised, Justin tried to keep the mood light. "You're seriously underestimating your kissing technique. Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice that Brian Kinney wasn't kissing me? Maybe you need to boost your self confiden-"

"Fuck you," Brian interrupted, looking at him now and maybe smiling - just a little. Maybe.

In some parallel dimension.

When the phone started ringing, Justin slumped a little. Brian would definitely use this to weasel out of the conversation. Whoever was calling had the worst fucking timing.

"I should get that," Brian said.

Sighing, Justin leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Brian's chest. If he just stayed there and didn't move, then Brian simply couldn't answer the phone.

The phone switched over to messages.

"Helloooo! Is anyone there?" Justin sat back up. Emmett? "I'm sorry to interrupt, especially if you two are fucking, but I really need to talk to Justin. Pick up, pick up, pick up!" Giving Brian an apologetic look, Justin pushed himself up and off the bed, making his way through the loft. "It's not a matter of life and death, but I definitely need to-"

Justin picked up the phone. "Hey, Em. What's up?"

"Hi, sweetie! I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Only maybe an actual Brian confession about something...but it was Em, so he couldn't really be angry. "Not really. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's *delightful*," Emmett chirped. "You will never believe the amazingly fantastic news I just heard!"

"What is it?"

"Zack O'Tool is coming to Pittsburgh!"

He instantly recognised the name. "The porn star?"

"Oh, good," Em sounded relieved, "I was afraid you wouldn't know who he is. You're so young!"

"Everyone knows who The Manrammer is." Personally, he didn't think much of the nickname. "So is he filming a movie?"

"Even better - he's doing a play! Twelve Horny Men. The flier describes it as 'a compelling look at our criminal justice system. Can anyone really receive a fair trial?' And it assures fans that he definitely gets naked. After our Jeff Stryker marathon a while back, you *have* to come and see it with me and Teddy. That's why I called - I want to book as soon as possible and get front row seats."

"Oh. Well..." Why not? "Sure." He'd never seen a porn play before - he'd try anything once.

"Wonderful! I'll try and book this now but if I can't I'll call them first thing tomorrow. I'll give you the details as soon as I get them."

"Okay. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too, sweetie. Gotta dash - Steve awaits. See ya!"

"Bye." Ending the call, Justin shook his head as he hung up the phone. Emmett could get seriously excited about things that might seem silly to others - and he wasn't in the least bit ashamed. Justin loved him for it.

"Everything okay?"

Jumping, Justin stumbled, turning to see Brian standing just a few inches away. Jesus. "Yeah, Emmett just wants to go see a play. It's Zack O'Tool, though, so he wants the best seats in the house."

Brian pursed his lips. "Zack O'Tool, huh?"

Justin shrugged. "Yeah." Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and one on his chest, pushing him back against the nearest solid surface.

"Speaking of Manramming..."

*

Operation: Get Brian Out More entailed Justin wiggling his ass as Brian let him into the loft. Things with the two of them were continuing to go well.

Or at least Brian hadn't threatened to throw him out recently.

But in his time away from the loft, Justin had been reading up on alcoholism more and more, and he was worried about Brian. Apparently, a lot of recovering alcoholics were scared of going to places where they knew they'd have access to alcohol - which made complete sense, and explained why Brian had been avoiding Babylon. The problem was, Brian wasn't just avoiding Babylon, he was avoiding most places he usually visited. Which also made complete sense, because there tended to be access to alcohol wherever Brian went.

The solution was simple - Justin would have to convince him to start going to places that he usually didn't deem worthy of his time.

Brian said nothing as he walked towards a table he'd obviously been working on. There were papers spread all across it and he picked a few of them up in one hand, studying the contents as he sat down.

Following him, Justin bent over the table and rested his forearms against the surface. "Let's go do something," he said, "you and me."

"How long have you known me?" Brian asked, not looking up. "I don't do dates."

"It's not a date," Justin argued (although he certainly wouldn't object to the idea if it turned into one). "I just wanna know if you wanna come out with me."

Brian seemed to hesitate for a moment as if actually considering it. And then he wasn't considering it. "The answer's no. I have work to do. Go do something with Daphne," he suggested, barely glancing up from the paperwork in his hands as he stood up.

"I don't wanna do something with Daphne," Justin whined, following Brian around the loft as he picked even more paperwork up from the kitchen counter. What the hell was he working on, anyway? "I wanna do something with you."

"I thought you were studying for your SAT's?" Brian queried, turning around to gesture at him with the papers in his hand.

"I am," Justin admitted, searching for an excuse, "but..." Ah ha! "Going out and having fun helps me concentrate."

"Uh huh."

"Seriously. It releases certain endorphins that help me concentrate...harder and for longer periods." He was so bullshitting.

Amused, Brian smirked. "Right. Not doing your homework is good for you. That's a new one."

Brian's door buzzer sounded. "I'll get it," Justin grinned, knowing Brian loved it sometimes when he was bratty. Case in point: Brian grabbed him just before he reached the speaker, stopping just short of actually tickling him.

"*I'll* get it." Nudging Justin into the corner by the door and trapping him there, he pushed the talk button. "Yeah?"

An unfamiliar voice came through the speaker. "It's Kip."

"Come on up," Brian replied, pressing the button that unlocked the door downstairs.

"Who?" Justin asked, curious. What kind of a name was 'Kip', anyway?

"It's none of your business."

"Kip?" he mocked.

He patted Justin lightly on the side of the face, but there was no venom in it. "And it *is* business, believe it or not," Brian concluded, reaching around Justin to start pulling the door open.

"Fine," Justin gave in melodramatically, just as he heard the elevator start to move. It seemed Brian really did have work to do. He'd picked a bad night for Operation: GBOM. "I guess I'll have to go find someone who *does* want to do something with me. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Good. Then you can study, longer and *harder*," Brian taunted, gently pushing him away as Justin left the loft - glancing at the elevator shaft - then trotted down the stairs, turning the corner.

Of course, he didn't actually go anywhere. As soon as he made it around the corner he stopped, pushing himself up against the wall. Waiting quietly, he heard the elevator stop and the safety door being pulled up. Brian and the guy - Kip - greeted each other, and Justin decided to risk it, peering around the corner.

The Kip guy was carrying a portfolio or something, and although Justin didn't think he was all that attractive he had little doubt that Brian had fucked him. There was no way Kip was straight; not from the way he was fawning over Brian's place.

When the loft door was pulled shut, Justin sighed and continued down the stairs, intent on heading back to Deb's. He'd known - he'd always known - that Brian fucked other guys, ever since those first few days. He hadn't liked it but it was fruitless to keep thinking about it, so he didn't. Still, he was curious as to how much tricking Brian had actually been doing lately.

Obviously they'd been fucking a lot, but Justin didn't classify himself as a trick - and he wasn't about to ask for Brian's stance on that subject just yet. He wouldn't have been surprised to discover that Brian was tricking less, simply because he wasn't going to Woody's or Babylon anymore. He didn't have to work for sex at all at either of those places - men practically threw themselves at him which made for easy pickings.

Still, he *was* Brian Kinney - the man who could fuck anyone he wanted - and Justin was sure he was getting plenty of sex elsewhere. He could probably pick guys up in the diner. While he was shopping.

Hell, just on the street.

Annoyed at himself for conjuring up images of Brian fucking other guys, Justin shook his head and crossed Tremont. At least - besides him - Brian never fucked the same guy twice.

*

Justin kept a wary eye on Brian over the next week or so. After a few days he seemed a little tenser than usual but claimed everything was fine. Justin didn't buy it. Sometimes when he was staying at the loft Brian would check his messages and there'd be one from Kip, asking for another chance. Brian would immediately delete it, and Justin would worry more. What if this guy was after Brian the way he'd been?

Things started going seriously downhill one night when Brian picked him up from Deb's. He was quieter than usual - even for him - and didn't say anything at all until he'd fucked Justin twice.

Normally Justin would've been pissed at him, but he could tell it was more than just Brian being an asshole. "What happened?"

Blowing out smoke, Brian kept his cigarette hand lifted up, staring at the ceiling. "I'm being sued for sexual harassment."

The idea was so mind-boggling that it genuinely took Justin a while to be able to formulate any kind of response. "But...you...I..." It was the last thing he ever would've guessed. Finally, he produced a response. "Why would *you* need to sexually harass someone? It's not's like it's hard for you to find guys to fuck."

"Thanks, Sunshine," he replied, although he didn't really seem amused. "And I wouldn't need to sexually harass someone. I didn't. It's bullshit."

"Of course it is." That much was obvious. "Was it that Kip guy?" That would explain a lot. Justin *knew* he was bad news.

Nodding, Brian took another drag. "We fucked a couple of times. He seemed to think that meant he should get a promotion he didn't deserve, and he's pissed at me because I didn't give it to him."

He fucked Kip? He fucked Kip more than once?

Internally freaking out, Justin tried to focus on what was actually more important - how this could affect Brian's job. "Could he cause serious trouble?"

He seriously fucked Kip more than once?

"He's an idiot," Brian insisted. "He has some talent but he's an idiot. This'll all blow over in a couple of days."

"You sound so sure." Frankly, Justin was worried about how Brian was handling the stress of the situation. He'd always pretend he was fine, of course, but putting this kind of pressure on a recovering alcoholic could in no way be a good thing.

"Of course," he glanced towards Justin. "I'm always right. Anyway, let's move on to less unpleasant subjects."

Eager to stop Brian thinking about anything depressing, Justin encouraged him. "Liiiiiiike?"

"Liiiiiiike...I hear it's your birthday soon."

Shit. Justin had been purposely avoiding the subject, not wanting Brian to think he was going to bug him for a gift or anything. "How'd you hear about it?"

"Oh, some big fucking bird told me." Debbie. Of course. He really should've seen that coming. "Wanted to make sure I was 'nice' to you, even if we are apparently just 'fuck buddies'." Turning his head towards him, Brian smirked a little, raising an eyebrow.

Flushing red, Justin covered his face. He was never telling Debbie anything ever again. "She had us one step away from a commitment ceremony," he defended, knowing it wasn't exactly truthful but that the very idea would have the most effect on Brian. "I had to tell her *something*."

Rolling his eyes, Brian's smirk started to fade. "Everyone's a fucking romantic."

Wanting to keep him in a good mood, Justin rolled onto his side and slipped his hand down to Brian's cock, grinning. "You can be fucking *this* romantic in about...twenty seconds?"

When the phone started ringing, Justin groaned, letting go of Brian's dick and resting his head on his shoulder. Not again. "Why don't you have a phone next to the bed?"

"Wouldn't wanna interrupt a good fuck."

Of course not. Except they *kept* getting interrupted.

By that point, the phone had rung enough times that it switched over to messages. Lindsay's voice echoed through the loft.

"Brian? Brian, if you're there, pick up, please." Shocked, Justin started sitting up - she sounded like she was crying. Shit, what if something was wrong with Gus? Apparently thinking the same thing, Brian practically shoved Justin out of the way and ran out of the bedroom. "I really need to talk to you, please-" Linds' voice cut off as Brian picked up the phone.

"What's wrong?"

Padding to the top of the steps, Justin waited anxiously. When he saw Brian's shoulders slump, the tension draining out of them, relief flooded through him. Whatever it was, Gus was okay.

Finding his underwear, Justin tugged them on and headed into the kitchen, pulling open the door to the fridge. Opening a bottle of water, he closed the door with his shoulder and stood by the counter, pretending he wasn't listening to Brian's half of the conversation.

He seemed surprised by something, that was for sure, and he said a lot of bad things about Mel (although that was hardly different from usual), so Justin could only assume Mel was the one who'd made Linds cry.

When Brian hung up, after promising to go and see Linds tomorrow, he turned towards Justin.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Seems Smelly Melly fucked around with someone."

Justin's mouth almost fell open. No fucking way! "Holy shit! Seriously?" They'd always seemed so happy together, but when he thought about it for a while he realised Mel and Linds hadn't really said much to each other at Michael's party. Maybe this'd been going on for a while. "Another dyke?" Brian gave him a look. "Hey, you never know. It could've been a guy. Weirder things have happened."

"Not to Melanie Marcus they haven't," Brian retorted, walking towards him. "That is one lesbian who seriously likes pussy."

Justin wrinkled up his nose, letting Brian take the bottle out of his hand and swallow a gulp of water. Putting the bottle down on the counter afterwards, Brian looked from the counter to Justin, and back to the counter again.

Later, when Justin was bent over the counter, trying desperately to hold onto *anything* as Brian fucked the shit out of him, a voice hissed near his ear.

"Sunshine, don't ever turn straight on me, will ya?"

"Wouldn't, ah, dream of, fuck!" A particularly well-aimed thrust rendered him speechless. "It. Oh my God..."

*

There was no one waiting for him outside the diner the next day. It wasn't all that unusual - Brian didn't often bring him back to the loft two days running - but with the sexual harassment suit Justin really wanted to see how Brian was doing. So instead of heading straight for Deb's, he decided on a little pit stop to Brian's, first. He'd just drop in, make sure Brian was okay, and leave.

Unless Brian actually invited him to stay the night. In which case, he was *so* there.

Taking the elevator up to the loft, Justin spent the time pondering just how many blowjobs had taken place inside the elevator over the years. He knew he'd performed six.

When it shuddered to a halt, Justin pulled the safety door up and stepped out onto the landing. He was all set to knock on the door when he glanced to one side and noticed something.

It was open.

Just an inch or so, but the door was open.

Panicking, not even thinking about his own safety, he rolled the door open further. "Brian!"

He smelt it instantly.

No. No, no, no, no, no. No!

Running through the loft, he only stopped when he reached the edge of the bedroom, his world shrinking to the image his brain was trying to process.

Brian, passed out on the bed, with a half-empty bottle of Beam propped up against his side.

Fuck!

*

Sitting on the end of the bed, Justin brought his knees up and sighed heavily, wrapping his arms around his legs. Holding on tightly, he lowered his head to his knees and closed his eyes. He felt...

pissedsadangryanxioustiredsickstressedguiltyfurious

...he didn't know how the fuck he felt; which emotion was most predominant.

Keeping his eyes closed he stayed there for a good ten, maybe fifteen minutes, just concentrating on breathing. On being okay. Not flipping out.

When he could breathe again without feeling like a fifty-ton truck was sitting on his chest, he opened his eyes and quietly unfolded himself. Wincing slightly, he stretched out his body and got to work. He'd be useless to anyone if he just kept sitting there feeling sorry for himself.

Leaning up the bed - Brian was out cold, even producing the occasional snore - Justin jerked the bottle of Beam away from him. The lid was MIA until Justin found it on the floor next to Brian's side of the bed, and after he picked that up too he thumped across the loft and into the kitchen. Throwing the lid into the trash, Justin emptied the rest of the bottle down the sink before throwing that in the trash, too. Turning on the taps to wash away the smell of alcohol, Justin closed his eyes and breathed again, just for a moment.

He searched the loft, like he had before, and found no other bottles. He supposed that made sense. Brian's tolerance for alcohol would've reduced a hell of a lot, which explained why he was unconscious after 'only' drinking half a bottle of scotch.

Asshole. Fucking *asshole*.

Yeah, it was anger.

Calling Debbie, Justin then climbed up onto the bed and waited for Brian to wake up.

*

He sat there for hours. Sometimes he got up for food or something to drink, but otherwise, he sat next to Brian, thinking. By the time Brian started to stir - which actually meant groaning loudly - he'd been there for over five hours. Five hours was a lot of time to think, and Justin had reached more than a few conclusions. Something had to change, and it wasn't him.

Justin would be there, would be ready to support Brian in any way possible as he fought this, but Brian *had* to take that first step. Until then, Justin wasn't doing anything.

Even if it killed him.

Getting up from the bed briefly, Justin made a quick call to a cab company. Fuck the cost. Once it was booked and he was told the cab was on its way, he moved back to the bed.

"Fuck," Brian muttered, grabbing his head and rolling onto his side. Slowly opening his eyes, they widened dramatically when he realised Justin was next to him. "Oh, *fuck*."

Justin almost smirked. Yeah, that was it. Brian should be fucking scared to see him. "I'm so fucking angry at you I can't even think straight." Brian tried to roll away from him. "Don't turn away from me."

"Head hurts," Brian complained, not turning back.

"Good," he snapped. "It fucking should. That's what happens when you haven't drunk anything for a few months and then suddenly decide to drink half a bottle of Beam."

"I got suspended from work. Because of Kip. Kip fucking Thomas." Fuck. "I'm gonna lose my job. I'm gonna lose fucking everything."

Justin fought against the initial wave of sympathy. He was determined not to be taken off track. "The only way you'll lose everything is if you keep drinking," he argued. "So what if you lose your job? Get another one. Come and share the room with me at Deb's if you have to. No one'll think any less of you. The only thing that matters to us - that matters to *me* - is that you're alive and healthy." Grabbing Brian's shoulder, Justin forced him onto his back and stared down at him. Brian really did look like shit, trying to cover up his eyes.

Justin wouldn't let him, grabbing his arms and pulling them away from his body.

"Listen to me," he continued, making Brian look up at him. "Why am I even here? Why have you let me stick around lately?" He didn't get a response, but he didn't expect one. "I know why." He'd figured that much out earlier. "It's because I'm convenient - I already know what's been happening. You don't have to hide your deep, dark secret from me. And you can fuck me whenever you feel like it. Well, fuck that," he paused. "From now on, when I'm here it'll be because *both* of us want me here. And when we fuck, you'll kiss me - no more of this no kissing bullshit." Part of him couldn't believe he was actually saying all this, and part of him felt like he should have said it weeks ago.

Brian looked like his head was about to crack open. "What-?"

"Yeah," Justin interrupted because he'd been thinking about this for hours and knew what he wanted to say. He had his speech all down. "I know. You don't do demands. Ultimatums make your dick soft. But you're going to have to deal with them this time. I'm willing to go through this with you, but I mean *with* you. I can't cope with this alone. I'm seventeen years old, Brian." Annoyed to realise that he was dangerously close to crying, Justin let go of Brian's arms and pushed himself off of the bed.

"Justin..."

"I love you," Justin said, keeping his back towards Brian and trying not to let his voice shake. "And I want to help you. And I want to be with you. And I may be a tough little shit," Brian had said as much himself, "but I can't do everything. So," he straightened his back, "I'm leaving now. There's no more alcohol in the loft. What you do next is up to you."

Taking a step towards the door, Justin hesitated when he thought of one last thing to say. "If at some point you decide you want to talk, then come to me and talk. Don't call Deb's and bitch at me over the phone. Talk to me."

He'd always kicked ass in debate team.

*

The euphoria lasted about five minutes. Three minutes into the drive home Justin started crying, scaring the fuck out of the cab driver.

Assuring the guy that he was fine and that he wasn't an escaped mental health patient, Justin left a huge tip and bolted for Emmett's building the moment the cab stopped moving. In what seemed like a matter of seconds he was being let into the building and running up the stairs, right into Emmett's arms.

"Sweetie..."

"I'm sorry, I know it's late." Em was in his PJ's.

"Don't be ridiculous, you know you can come here anytime."

"He's started again, Em. He's fucking drinking again." He let go, then - really let go, sobbing against Emmett's Muscle Mary shirt.

"Oh, baby..." Hugging him tighter for a moment, Em quietly guided him into the apartment, closing the door behind them. Settling them both down on the sofa, he kept an arm wrapped around Justin, rubbing his hand slowly up and down in comfort.

When Justin was eventually all cried out - and had been passed about two hundred tissues - he started feeling embarrassed. "Sorry," he sniffed, wiping at his nose again.

"No need to apologise," Emmett assured him, "I happen to be thoroughly absorbent. How else do you think I deal with all that come? I'm a human sponge."

Managing a chuckle, Justin stopped suddenly when he saw a guy standing in the doorway to Emmett's room. He realised immediately that it had to be the infamous Steve - and Emmett had been right. Steve was definitely a hottie.

"Hey," Steve said quietly, smiling a little awkwardly.

"Hi," Justin greeted, blinking heavily to try and look as normal as possible. "Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in-"

"I said don't worry about it," Emmett told him. "Justin, I'd like you to meet Steve." Steve lifted a hand and waved. At least he wasn't naked. "Steve, this is Justin, a very good friend of mine. He needs a place to stay tonight. Now..." he looked between the two of them. "I wonder if the three of us can manage to squeeze into my bed?"

*

Since Michael had moved into David's a while ago his bed was free, and that was where Justin woke up the next morning. Other than the skin on his face feeling a little dry - probably from all the crying - he didn't feel half as bad as he had the previous night. He'd made his decision and last night he started to accept it. Brian was going to have to work on this as much as he was - Justin wouldn't make any more first moves until he did.

Stepping out of the bedroom wearing the sweats and t-shirt Emmett had given him last night - they were a little long, but otherwise okay - Justin mustered up a small smile when he saw Em sitting on the sofa with his legs tucked under him, watching TV with the volume on low. "Hey."

Turning his head towards him, Emmett muted the TV completely. "Hey, gorgeous! How'd you sleep?"

"Okay, thanks," he said, sitting down next to him. "Where's Steve?"

"Oh, he's gone already. *Some* people have to work normal office hours." He shuddered. "I simply can't imagine."

Hours...shit. He looked at the VCR for the time, panicking, when he remembered that he'd told Emmett last night not to wake him up for school.

He'd had other plans.

Still did.

"I'm sorry if I ruined things for you and Steve last night."

Emmett 'psshed'. "Honey, you sleep like the dead. Steve and I got up to all *kinds* of perverted things last night, believe me. So..." he continued carefully. "Do you want to talk about it? Or pretend it never happened and go shopping?"

Shopping would only remind him of Brian. "Can I have some coffee first?"

Smiling, Emmett stood up. "I already have an empty cup out for you."

*

He told Emmett everything. How he found Brian, what he did, what he said. The ultimatums.

"...and the funny thing was, when I was ranting at him I wasn't really angry. At least not with him. I was pissed off with the situation, that this happened to him at all - but I knew I had to use that to try and get him to listen." And it'd been hard. Harder than he thought when all he wanted to do was hold onto Brian and never let anything hurt him again.

Emmett said he was, "the bravest fucking boy I've ever met! SuperQueer!"

Justin had laughed for a good thirty seconds. Therapy with Emmett was cheap but extremely effective.

When Emmett sadly had to leave later for work, Justin saw him off to Liberty Avenue before heading off on his own. Making his way further into the city, he only had to ask for directions a couple of times - he knew the address of his destination, he just hadn't been there before.

It was approaching 12:30 when Justin found the building, and he immediately planted himself outside, hoping he wasn't too late. He'd been waiting there for about forty minutes - never looking away from the front of the building - when a familiar figure walked out through the automatic doors.

Taking a moment to confirm it was him - he'd only seen the guy once - Justin pushed himself away from the wall and started jogging after Kip Thomas.

There were some things Justin couldn't change, and some he could.

*

Letting himself into the house, Justin shut the door behind him quietly. Silently taking off his jacket, he hung it up and - seeing no one - moved quickly towards the stairs.

He really needed a shower.

"Hey there, stranger."

Jumping - nearly screeching - Justin jerked around, watching as Vic emerged from the kitchen. He must've been just out of sight. "H-hey, Vic," he said, trying to act normally as he got his breath back. "Didn't see you."

"I can see that," Vic smirked, and he seemed to be watching Justin carefully. Very carefully. "How was school?"

Justin was very much aware that he wasn't in his school uniform, and if he tried to think up some excuse for changing into his regular clothes Vic would probably just trap him in a lie. So he tried another lie. "I felt really sick this morning - couldn't make it in. Brian let me stay at his place." What did he have to be worried about, anyway? He'd contacted Mom after talking to Emmett, and she'd called in for him again (he was *so* gonna hear about that later). He was covered.

Vic didn't let up. "You know, it's not very nice to lie about being sick to someone who actually *is* sick."

Fuck. Vic was *good*. Mom and Deb had nothing on Vic Grassi. Hanging his head, Justin told as much of the truth as he could. "I needed the day off, okay?"

"Was it important?"

God, yeah. Lifting his head back up, Justin met Vic's gaze. "Very."

Studying him for a while, Vic eventually seemed to realise he was serious. "Okay, kid. Just be careful - you shouldn't be taking too much time off school right now."

Some things were more important than school. "I'm not planning on doing it again."

Vic chuckled. "That's what *all* the young gay boys say. Then they decide they like cock too much."

Sometimes it was blatantly clear Vic was Debbie's brother.

"Now get out of here," he continued, "and do everything you can to make sure Sis doesn't know you missed school."

Grateful though he was, after being mock-chased out of the lounge Justin pounded quickly up the stairs. He still really wanted a shower and started pulling his shirt off before he even reached his room. Leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor, he grabbed a towel and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

The shower felt good, really good, and Justin started scrubbing at his skin, hard. He wasn't some pussy; he wasn't about to start freaking out, but he wanted to erase everything, clean every part of him that that creep may have touched.

"Haven't I seen you before?" he asked, standing next to Kip's table in the coffee house.

Snorting, Kip barely looked up at him. "Yeah, that's original."

"I'm serious. I *have* seen you before." Justin made his voice go up a little, as if he was just remembering where from, and sat in the chair next to Kip's without invitation. "You were at Brian Kinney's place the other night."

At first, looking annoyed at the intrusion, the mention of Brian's name made Kip pause. "You...you know Kinney?"

"Unfortunately," Justin replied. "He's kind of a friend of the family so I have to put up with him, but ugh - what an asshole."

"You think so, huh?" he asked non-committally.

"Definitely," Justin continued. "Thinks he's so much better than everyone else. It's fucking irritating."

"You don't think he's hot?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "He's not bad to look at. But he's too much of an asshole to ever be my type. But enough about Brian," Justin leaned closer, moistening his lips and rubbing his leg against Kip's. "Tell me about you. What's your type?"

Kip hadn't pulled away, but he still didn't look amused. "Not you."

Eyes falling to the obvious boner in Kip's pants, Justin smirked. "I can be."

When the shower turned cold Justin fumbled for the taps, cutting of the water supply and just standing there for a while. If he concentrated hard enough he could feel each individual drop of water running down his body, falling from his skin. Slowly but surely Kip was being removed, and soon he'd have no power over Brian at all.

Sliding the shower door open, Justin stepped out carefully and started drying himself off. The towel felt good after the cold water and he rubbed it harder and harder against his skin, increasing the blood circulation and warming himself faster.

There was only one bathroom with one toilet, and it'd been equipped for the disabled so it was pretty big. As soon as Justin locked the door Kip turned him around and fell to his knees, unzipping and tugging at Justin's cargo pants until they were around his ankles.

So, Kip liked being a cocksucker.

Somehow that didn't come as a surprise.

Justin pretended to be into it, pulling off his own shirt, and when Kip saw the nipple ring he was up like a shot, his fingers playing with it.

"You're a hot little fucker."

Oh, please. So much for trying to play hard to get. "You're hot yourself."

"Oh, yeah." His started lowering his head, his intentions obvious.

"Go on, lick it," Justin encouraged, glad Kip couldn't see the expression on his face when he actually did start licking. "You're hotter than the guy I had last week," he bullshitted, trying to think what would turn him on most. "He wanted to put me in short pants and spank me."

"I wanna do much more than that," Kip breathed, pulling away from his chest. "I wanna show you." Falling to his knees again, he started mouthing Justin's cock.

Justin swallowed heavily. "Better hurry up."

"What's the rush?"

"I have to get home on time so my parents don't know I skipped school," Justin said, crossing his fingers internally.

Freezing, Kip pulled away from his cock and looked up at him. "You go to school? You live with your parents?"

"Where else would I live?" he asked innocently. "I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen?" He didn't sound particularly horrified - more intrigued. Shit. "So, do you go to bars and stuff? How do you get in?"

"Duh - fake ID?" Time to take it up a notch. "I don't tell my dad, though. He goes totally psycho. Like he did when he found out I was gay."

Now he was starting to look worried. Good. Fucker. "Your dad went psycho?"

"He went after the guy I was fucking and turned him into the police."

Serious concern. "The police?"

Justin grinned sweetly. "He'll be out in ten years." Hesitating, Kip slowly went back to working on his cock. Shit, this guy was stubborn. But so was he. "If he knew I was here..."

Pulling away again, Kip sighed, frustrated. "How would he know?"

"Oh, there's no way," Justin assured - before pausing deliberately. "Unless I told him."

"But you wouldn't do that, would you?" Kip asked, frowning and looking more than a little concerned - like he was only just starting to realise what he'd gotten himself into. Idiot.

"Justin?"

Jerking - shit, he had to stop doing that - Justin wrapped the towel around his waist. "Yeah?"

"You want some hot chocolate?"

Truly, Vic was a gift from the Gods.

*

When Debbie got home, she seemed to have no clue at all that he hadn't gone straight to school from Brian's. The only problem that Justin foresaw was that Mom might mention it in one of their occasional phone calls, but he'd just have to deal with that if it ever came up.

Justin really would've liked to have escaped up into his room for the entire evening, but living at Deb's meant having to deal with more than a few things - and one of those was having a decent conversation with Deb when you hadn't seen her all day. He didn't mind it, usually - even enjoyed it - but today, he just...wasn't feeling in the right frame of mind.

But he listened to her talk about the diner, about the latest gossip, and he made up some bullshit about his classes at school.

"So, Sunshine," she said eventually, "you looking forward to your birthday? Not long now!"

In two days he'd be eighteen.

He already felt like he was ninety.

"Sure, Deb. Just as long as I can have that chocolate fudge cake you made for Michael."

"Honey," she grinned broadly, "I wouldn't dream of making you anything else." Leaning down to where he was sitting at the kitchen table, she gave him a big kiss on the forehead. "Shit," she said as she drew back, "you look fucking exhausted. Go get some rest."

Justin didn't argue with her. When he fell into bed he decided it'd never felt so comfortable and, drawing the covers tightly around his body, Justin closed his eyes and tried to think about being there with Brian.

It didn't work.

"But you wouldn't do that, would you?" Kip asked, frowning and looking more than a little concerned - like he was only just starting to realise what he'd gotten himself into. Idiot.

"Of course not," Justin said almost kindly, looking down and touching the side of Kip's face with two fingers. "I would never do that." He could at least do this much for Brian. "Provided you do something for me."

*

Daph gave him the Spanish Inquisition the next day at school. All through math she kept passing notes.

Is everything okay? Were you really sick?

Justin didn't look at her.

Did you and Brian stop fucking again?

He still didn't look at her.

Am I still coming over for your birthday tomorrow?

Nothing.

I just thought, I'm totally making you look straight by doing this. Want me to stop?

Well, he did, but not because he cared what anyone thought.

What am I talking about? Nothing could ever make you look straight.

Having no idea how he was supposed to take that statement, he crumpled the note up and finally met her gaze.

She was grinning.

Shaking his head, Justin found himself smiling back.

*

"I swear," Daphne sighed at lunch, "you guys have more issues than Romeo and Juliet." She frowned. "At least your families aren't trying to kill each other or anything."

"More or less," Justin pointed out, absently picking up a fry. Sometimes he wondered how far Dad would've gone if he hadn't pulled him off Brian in the alley.

He was sad about keeping Daphne in the dark yet again, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't about to tell her the whole truth about Brian, and there was no way in hell he'd ever tell her what he'd done with Kip - she'd totally freak out. Sometimes a Daphne rant was worse than a Debbie or Mom rant.

Women were pretty much scary in general. Or at least the women in his life.

So he'd told her he and Brian had had another argument again, something about Justin wanting too much romance and Brian insisting he was still nothing more than a fuck.

Depressingly, it wasn't all that far from the truth.

All he wanted, just once, was for Brian to admit that he wasn't letting Justin hang around just because it was easy.

"He totally doesn't deserve you," Daph encouraged, obviously seeing that he was still moping. "And he's obviously not that good for you if you keep skipping school because of him."

Surprised, Justin lifted his gaze from his fries and looked up at her. She'd never really gone that route before - starting to say bad things about Brian. The first time she'd seen him she'd thought Brian wasn't much to look at, but since then she'd changed her tune.

Until now.

"Daph, he didn't make me skip school - it's not like he held me hostage or anything. It was my choice. I could've come in yesterday but decided not to. Stop blaming him for my fuck-ups." He was getting kind of sick of Brian being attacked. At breakfast, he'd dropped by the diner and most of the gang had been there. The hot topic of conversation, of course, was the lawsuit against Brian, and Ted had kept going on about how Brian had brought it on himself, that this time he'd fucked the wrong guy.

Justin's mood had been less than stellar when he'd arrived at school. Maybe Brian shouldn't have fucked Kip - it was a bad call, not his smartest move. But that didn't mean he deserved to lose everything.

Everyone made mistakes.

"But you said you were off because you guys 'broke up' again," Daph argued, obviously confused, "You said-"

"I know what I said," Justin replied, getting irrationally angry with her. "That was just how *I* handled it. I needed to take the day off. It's my problem, not his. Leave Brian alone." Standing up from the table, Justin hooked his bag over his shoulder and walked away.

"Justin...Justin!"

*

His mood hadn't improved by the time school ended. When he got back to Deb's he mumbled to Vic, then stomped up to his room and slammed the door behind him. Moving on instinct, doing what *he* wanted to do, Justin grabbed the first sketch pad he could find and started drawing.

It was only after he started that he realised just how long it'd been since he'd drawn anything that wasn't for art class. This wasn't about completing an assignment and handing it in on time - this was just for *him*, and he could draw whatever the fuck he wanted. He had nothing in mind; he just kept moving the pencil. He only half-noticed when he started crying, wiping at his face with the back of his hand occasionally or when a tear landed on the pad.

Justin didn't care that the paper got wet. That only made it better art.

Shit, he'd missed this. How absorbed he'd get, the buzz he felt from creating something whether anyone else saw it or not. He was working and it was *his*, and nothing could ever take that feeling away from him.

Not Kip, or Brian, or his friends, or Justin's own family - and definitely not fucking alcohol.

He was invincible.

When the knock at his door came Justin was almost panting, dropping his pencil and clutching at the edges of the sketch pad.

The door opened to reveal Vic, carefully peering inside. Looking at Justin, and the bed, and the floor, he lifted his eyebrows. "You've certainly been busy."

Following Vic's gaze, Justin sniffed and blinked in disbelief at the paper that littered his room. He'd drawn something on every single one of them. It was all abstract, nothing anyone else would be able to identify, but they were there. "I guess." No wonder his hand was starting to get tired.

"You've been up here for nearly six hours."

Holy shit. He sniffed again. "Guess I missed dinner."

"You seemed to need the time," Vic confessed. "Mind if I..." he gestured inside the room.

Feeling a little more ready for company - especially Vic's - Justin wiped at his face. "Sure."

Being careful not to tread on any of the sketches, Vic perched himself on the end of the bed. "They're good," he said, picking one up and inspecting it carefully.

Justin didn't actually care if anyone liked them or not, but it was still nice being told that. "Thanks."

Putting it safely back down on the bed, Vic looked up at him. "How's Brian doing?"

Panic suddenly registering, Justin feigned ignorance. He couldn't know. There was no way Vic could know the truth. "I don't know what you're talking abo-"

"Sunshine," he interrupted kindly, "after all the shit I've seen, do you honestly think I don't recognise an alcoholic when I see one?"

But...but...that was impossible! If Vic knew all this time, why the hell didn't he say anything? "How long have you known? Why didn't you say anything?" He moved until he was kneeling, leaning towards Vic.

"Since Michael's birthday," Vic admitted. "I always knew that Brian drank too much and smoked too much and..." he paused, smiling fondly. "Brian always did everything too much." That was putting it mildly. "But I didn't know how bad it was until then. When he yelled at Deb and ran out of the kitchen, I just...knew."

Grateful though he was to have another ally, Justin couldn't let it go any further. "You can't let anyone else know," he pleaded. "Please Vic, if anyone else found out-"

"Don't sweat it, kiddo," Vic smiled, and Justin started to relax - at least slightly. "I've been keeping secrets for years. This is just one more." Pausing, he sighed. "I've been looking into ways to help him, but it hasn't been going well. There are quite a few groups in the Pittsburgh area, but..."

"Brian would never go to one."

"Exactly," Vic nodded. "Especially not AA. He has issues with religion." Justin hadn't actually known that, yet it didn't come as a huge surprise. "And...AA...I'm sure they're a great organisation and they've helped some friends of mine in the past, but it's not for everyone."

"I guess everyone's different," Justin said quietly, before managing a small smirk. "We need a 'hot studs who need a kick up the ass' group."

Laughing quietly, Vic definitely liked the idea. "What would we call it?"

"Alcoholic Assholes 'R Us," Justin declared, finding the whole thing ridiculously funny until he started feeling depressed again. Shit, he was going through some serious highs and lows. Still, it did make him feel better that he had someone else to talk to. "It is bad that I'm happy you know?"

"Not at all," Vic assured him. "Besides, now Brian has to deal with you *and* me."

"And Emmett," Justin confessed.

Vic paused for a moment but looked only vaguely surprised. "And Emmett. Who can resist in the face of that?"

No one. Absolutely no one.

When the doorbell rang, they both looked towards the front of the house and said, "I'll get it."

Smiling, Vic pushed himself off the bed. "How about you get the door, and I'll get you a plate of food?"

Justin smiled, really feeling it this time. "Thanks, Vic."

The journey downstairs was made quickly, and the doorbell had just been rung a second time when Justin swung open the door.

Brian.

"Hey."

Justin just stared at him.

Holy shit.

"What are you doing here?" It probably should've come out nicer than that, but Justin was too surprised. He'd been hoping - seriously, *seriously* hoping - that Brian would come and see him, but he hadn't at any point hoped it would be this soon.

Well, okay. He hadn't *expected* Brian to turn up this soon.

Brian looked good, too. Better than the last time he'd seen him. "To," Brian paused, moistening his lips, "talk."

Holy *shit*.

"Okay!" Justin all but yelled, opening the door wider so he could come inside. Stepping into the house Brian looked around anxiously as if he was just about ready to crawl out of his own skin.

Shit, Justin really needed to help him relax. Knowing that a lack of audience would help, he cleared his throat. "Uh, Vic?"

"Brian!" Vic said, emerging from the kitchen, "this is a surprise." He gave Justin a significant look.

"I bet," Brian replied tightly.

"We're just gonna go upstairs for a while," Justin told him, dispelling the tension. Grabbing Brian's hand on the way up the stairs, he noticed that Brian was holding something in his other hand - a picture or a painting, but it was facing towards him so Justin couldn't see what it was of. Intrigued, he led Brian into his room before letting go of his hand and turning to face him.

Justin very, very carefully didn't ask how Brian was feeling. In fact, he didn't say anything at all, figuring he'd let Brian take control.

He did, just not right away. Bending at the knees, he stared at the paper on the floor. "You've been busy. Is this of me?"

Brian could see that? "Someone's full of themselves."

"I'm right, though." He sounded absolutely sure.

He had reason to be. "You are."

Nodding, Brian stood up smoothly and seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before speaking. "Kip dropped the lawsuit."

Yes! Finally, the fucker did something right. "That's great!" Justin enthused, trying to sound surprised at the same time.

"Yeah," Brian mumbled like it was no big deal. "No idea why."

"It's a mystery," Justin shrugged awkwardly, feeling like there was a big sign above his head that read 'BIG FAT LIAR. I'M LYING RIGHT NOW!'.

Either not noticing or not caring, Brian shoved the picture he'd brought with him into Justin's hands. "This is for you."

Frowning, Justin took it from him and carefully turned it over until he could see the front.

Holy shit.

It was his drawing. His sketch of Brian, sleeping in the nude. The one Lindsay had seen and convinced him to put on display at the GLC art show.

The one that'd been sold to a mystery buyer.

"You..." He couldn't believe it. "You bought this? Why?"

Turning away, Brian ran his hand through his hair and paced the small confines of the room, careful not to step on any of Justin's work. "You being there...yeah, of course, it's convenient, but...even then," he gestured towards the sketch, "even then you were..." he paused, obviously searching for something.

A dictionary of every conceivable answer raced through Justin's brain.

"...an anomaly."

Except that one.

It was probably the least romantic thing he'd ever heard, and it was so utterly Brian than hope bubbled inside Justin's chest.

This was something. This was a start.

It didn't fix everything, didn't make it all better, but it was a first step.

Vic brought them food. Brian barely touched his, sitting on Justin's bed looking like he was ready to bolt at any second. Worried about him doing just that, Justin placed the plates on the bedside table and crawled onto Brian's lap. Several sweaty minutes later, they were rolling naked around the bed.

"The drawings..." Brian warned.

"Leave them," Justin said, feeling better than he had in days. "It'll make better art."

*

Brian kissed him when they fucked, and was still inside him when he turned eighteen.

Justin considered it a good start to the year.