"What the fuck are you doing here?" Brian demanded, always having a good opening salvo.

Kip mostly ignored the question, stepping up onto the sidewalk. "Did you think I wouldn't find out, Kinney?"

Justin started fumbling behind himself for the door. "Uh, Brian, let's go inside."

But Brian still had an arm around him, and wouldn't let go - even though he never looked away from Kip. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. And why the hell are you even here?"

"Saw a news report a while ago," Kip spat, pausing at the bottom of the steps, glaring at Justin. "Saw that little shit behind you - causing trouble, big surprise. And then they interviewed some woman wearing a bad wig. She started going on about how 'her sunshine' got harassed so much just because he was gay. Let slip something about him having an older male lover - someone long out of college. Got me thinking," he continued, pressing his right index finger against his temple, "and though I figured I was just being paranoid, I decided to check it out. Something had been bugging me about our little encounter for months. And low and behold..." He dropped his hand, moving his gaze to Brian. "What did you offer him to mess with me, Kinney? Money? A fuck? Maybe a job at Ryder?"

Justin was dead meat. There was no escaping it. He almost didn't care that Kip was even there anymore, because when he and Brian were alone...

"I didn't offer him anything," Brian retorted, because although he had to be pissed at Justin, that didn't mean he couldn't be pissed at Kip, too. "Justin is his own man. If he wanted to mess with you, that was his business. Frankly, I haven't thought about you in months. You're really not that important."

"Really?" Kip asked rhetorically. "So he is your boytoy? And you really don't care that he's whoring himself out to get what he-?"

Justin almost didn't see it happen but suddenly Brian wasn't holding him anymore, and Kip was on the floor covering his now-bleeding nose with both hands. "Motherfucker! I'm suing you for assault! And him for obstructing an investigation!"

Justin's glee at Kip's pain was short-lived. Shit, could he actually do that?

"You could try," Brian stood over Kip, fists still clenched, "but then you'd have to explain that all of this happened because some little twink fucked you over. That a *teenager* got the best of you. You wanna admit that in front of people? You wanna admit in court that you couldn't outwit a kid?"

Pausing for a moment, Kip started muttering as he scrambled to his feet. Still covering his nose, he glared at both of them as he turned away. "Just stay the fuck away from me, or I'll get a restraining order."

Justin didn't relax at all until Kip got into his car and managed to drive away (he was still trying to hold his nose, so it couldn't have been easy). Of course, when Kip *had* gone Brian was turning around, facing him, and there was nothing to be relaxed about again.

"So," Justin coughed. "He's sure trigger happy with those lawsuits, huh?"

He was completely ignored.

"Sunshine," Brian said carefully, his expression sharp enough to rip bark from trees, "since you're so big on communication, is this something we maybe should've talked about?"

He may have had a point.

He still had a point by the time they were in the loft, the door closed, locked and alarmed - just in case Kip came back to try anything else. Brian was not-so-calmly sprawled out on the sofa, watching Justin as he stood on the other side of the coffee table, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. Coats and scarfs had long been abandoned.

Brian lifted his eyebrows. "Well?"

Shit. "Well, uh..." Shit, shit, shit. "It's a funny story, actually." He didn't know *why* he started with that, because it wasn't. It wasn't funny at all.

Turning his palms upwards, Brian shrugged deliberately. "Amuse me."

Justin closed his eyes. Fine, fine. Fuck it. "He was suing you with that bullshit lawsuit, you relapsed, and I was fucking scared." Opening his eyes, he forced himself to meet Brian's gaze. "I was scared out of my fucking mind, Brian. At that point, I really didn't know if you'd ever be able to give up drinking, and it was his stupid fucking lawsuit that pushed you over the edge so..."

Brian was maybe, possibly, not looking quite so angry as he had been.

"So?"

Then again, maybe he wrong.

"I did what I could." Justin stuck his chin out. "I may not have been able to make you choose to give up alcohol, but I could at least try and make him drop his lawsuit. Which I did."

"And exactly how did you accomplish that?" Bringing his hands together, Brian kept looking up at him and Justin had a brief flashback to their conversation at Ryder. "I believe the word 'whoring' was mentioned."

Fuck fuck fuck. "It wasn't..." he closed his eyes briefly, before opening them again. "I didn't fuck him, and I didn't let him fuck me." Brian might've looked relieved. It was hard to tell. "Nothing even really happened...really." Okay, so he was kind of lying, and Brian would know. "I let him start to blow me. That was all. I could barely get hard. And then I told him how old I was, and some story about how my dad would beat the shit out of him and have him arrested if he ever found out...and how my dad would *never* find out if Kip would just do one little thing for me."

"Drop the lawsuit."

"Right."

"And he did."

Justin nodded. "Yes."

Brian frowned up at him. "And he fell for that?" Justin shrugged. "Shit, he deserves to get humiliated in court." He probably should've been offended by that, but right now it didn't really matter. "And where did this take place?"

Justin fidgeted again. "In the bathroom at a coffee shop a few blocks from your office. I...followed him from work."

"So," Brian nodded, "let me get this straight. You seduced this guy in a coffee shop, and then - presuming there was only one toilet - put yourself in a locked room with him."

Umm... "Yeah."

"After you were in this locked room with him, he started to blow you, and you double-crossed him - threatening him with physical violence and the police if he didn't do what you wanted."

"Yes."

"And you were still in the locked room with him."

"Yes."

"With no witnesses."

"Yeah."

"Where he could've done absolutely anything at all to you and nobody would've seen a thing."

It was fair to say that Brian was pissed. Justin felt about two feet tall. "Yeah."

"You can see why I have a problem with this?"

Well, duh. "You could say that." And before he could stop it, his mouth got the better of him. "But shit, Brian, you're alone with guys all the time, or at least in the past, and you're never worried that they'll turn out to be some ax-murderer or something, and-"

"That's because I'm not trying to fucking blackmail them!" Finally moving, Brian pushed himself up from the sofa. "And after that little chat we had in my office today about doing things that might 'affect my life' I can't believe you have the gall to stand there and tell me that shit. Actually," he waved his hand through the air, "I take that back. I *can* believe you'd have the gall to do that because you're so fuckingly stupidly brave you think nothing and no one can ever touch you. What kind of universe do you live in? Do you really think you can take chances like that and never get hurt? I won't let you do that, Justin, I fucking *won't* and...what the fuck is so funny?"

Justin had started grinning, then laughing, about ten seconds ago. Brian had been ranting about taking stupid chances and getting hurt, and all Justin had been able to think was, "Wow. He must really care about me."

It was probably the closest Brian would ever get to saying I love you.

And he was still waiting for an explanation, looking extremely not happy about being laughed at.

"It's just..." he grinned again, shaking his head. "We're standing here arguing about how much we want to help each other. How much we *care* about each other. It just...struck me as funny. We care about each other so much, we're arguing over it."

Brian stared at him. "That's not...this is about you taking stupid risks."

"Risks that I took because I care about you. And you're pissed off that I took them because you care about me."

"I didn't..." he shook his head. "You were being a stupid twat."

"Maybe," Justin shrugged, because he probably was. "But if our positions were reversed, wouldn't you have done the same? Wouldn't you have done anything to help me?"

He kept glaring. "Justin, you fucked up. This is not some opportunity for you to try and weasel out my 'feelings' for you."

"I'm not trying to do that," he replied honestly. "I'm really not. I'm just trying to get you see my point of view. Use Gus as an example instead - if he was in trouble, if he needed help, wouldn't you do absolutely anything to help him? Wouldn't you risk it all, take every chance if he needed you? Sacrifice everything?"

The words obviously having hit home, Brian turned away slightly, hands resting on his hips. "You'd sacrifice everything?" For me? He seemed...disturbed, by the idea.

They'd kind of had this conversation before. "I know you don't like it," Justin said quietly. "But it's how I feel. And given the chance to do it over again, I'd do the same thing."

"Except you won't," Brian swung back around to face him. "You *won't* do this kind of thing again, because if I have to talk to you before telling a Senator about you getting bullied at school, then you most definitely have to tell me before you manipulate and blackmail some asshole who's suing me. Deal?"

Pursuing his lips together, Justin held back a smile. "Deal."

"Good. Right." Brian nodded. Moving back to the sofa, he sat down. "We're not finished, but for now come over here."

Humour fading a little, Justin squinted at him. "What for?"

"You were an idiot. You need to be punished."

That hardly seemed fair. "I wasn't the only one who did something he wasn't supposed to."

"Justin," Brian sighed, "you were alone in a locked room with the man you were blackmailing. I told someone you were being bullied at school. Do the math."

Well...shit, okay.

"What does this punishment entail?"

Brian eyed him wolfishly. "Making that perfect ass of yours a lovely red colour."

Eyes widening, Justin quickly unzipped and pulled down his pants. "Shit, why didn't you just say so?"

*

Justin had never been seriously spanked before, and he wasn't now - after less than ten spanks, Brian was fucking him on the sofa. It was more like play-spanking, messing around with each other, and Justin wasn't sure if he was ready for the 'real thing' anyway, despite his initial enthusiasm. He could imagine it being all kinds of hot, but also all kinds of humiliating. Besides, given his past, Brian probably had issues about not wanting to physically hurt someone he cared about, even during sex.

Not long after they collapsed on the sofa, Brian pulled out carefully and padded away. Frowning, Justin pushed himself up on one arm and peered over the top of the sofa, watching as Brian dumped the condom into the trash then opened the door to the freezer.

Frowning, even more, Justin got to his feet and walked naked across the loft until he was standing next to Brian in the kitchen. Having taken out a chunk of ice and wrapped it in a towel, Brian was holding it against his hand. "You didn't hurt yourself when you were spanking me, did you?" It hadn't been *that* hard.

"Hardly," Brian snorted, and Justin realised he was holding it against the outside of his fingers for a reason. "But I *did* hurt myself punching that asshole. I forgot how much hitting someone hurts," he hissed, wincing a little, flexing the fingers of his right hand.

Feeling guilty and biting his lip, Justin carefully took hold of either side of Brian's hand and tugged it away from the ice. Brian let him - probably curious as to what he was actually going to do - and as Justin studied the hand closely he could see that some knuckles and fingers were slightly swollen. Bending his head, he pressed a soft kiss to Brian's knuckles - then to dispel any sentimentality, quickly looked up at him and grinned. "You were very butch."

Rolling his eyes, Brian yanked his hand away and started icing it again. "Sure I was."

"And I very much appreciate the fact that you defended my honour." He said it purely to get a reaction - and it worked.

"I was *not* defending your honour," Brian bitched, sighing heavily. "You always have to fucking romanticise everything. He was being an asshole. Therefore, he got punched. And anyway, that's not the important thing here. You," he gestured at Justin with his bad hand, "sit."

Curious, Justin followed the order - this time.

Or at least tried to. When his bare ass came into contact with the hard seat of the kitchen stool, he winced and stood back up. He may not have been spanked a lot, but it had been a few times. That plus the fuck... "I would sit, but you spanked me and fucked me. My ass hurts." He grinned, trying to be cute.

"Stop trying to be cute," Brian ordered, and Justin's grin faded. "And I meant what I said before. What you did to Kip...that was...it's appreciated. And although it was your choice, and I'm not gonna stop you from doing whatever you want or need to do..." Brian stared at him gravely. "It was really fucking stupid."

Justin tried not to look away. "I know."

"I mean it, Justin."

"I *know*." Flushing with shame at being chastised - and amazed that he was ashamed at all - Justin finally looked down, away. He was still glad that he'd done what he'd done, but he'd expected more yelling from Brian - not this quiet disappointment. It was a shock to the system. "He was hurting you," he defended, "with the lawsuit. It was because of him that you started drinking again."

"No one else but me is responsible for what I do," Brian argued calmly, making Justin look back up at him. "Kip didn't make me an alcoholic, and it's not his fault I relapsed. The fucker didn't *help*, yeah, but the problem was mine. Not his." Placing the ice back in the freezer - towel and all - he moved until he was standing next to Justin. "And I also meant the other thing I said." Justin frowned up at him curiously, and Brian's left hand came up to touch the side of his face. "You're so fucking brave. Stupidly so," he added, as if he couldn't let the compliment stand by itself. "You see something happening and think it needs to be fixed - and do whatever it takes to fix it, regardless of the consequences."

Flushing again, Justin licked his lips. "I'm not about to plan my whole life out the way you'd like to, Brian. That'd be so...*boring*."

Most of the time, Justin completely forgot about their age difference. In fact, more often than not he felt like *he* was the oldest one in their relationship. Brian's childhood had been so fucked up that in some ways he hadn't grown up at all.

But sometimes, it became blatantly clear that Brian *was* more mature than him. That he'd faced things Justin hadn't yet, and knew what he was talking about. On those rare occasions when it happened, Justin usually ended up feeling about twelve years old.

This particular occasion...

...had passed.

"Are you calling me boring, you little shit?"

After that, it didn't take them long to tease and wrestle each other into the shower to get cleaned up. When they were dry, Brian ordered Thai - and ordered Justin to pick up their clothes from the floor by the sofa. Justin told him to fuck off. Brian fucked him again as further 'punishment' and ended up answering the door to the delivery guy practically naked.

Justin hid on the sofa, trying not to laugh.

Much later, Justin yawned and stretched in bed, eventually settling in with an arm across Brian's chest. They talked for a while about things that mostly didn't matter, until they agreed that Mel most definitely needed to be paid a visit tomorrow.

Yawning again, Justin closed his eyes. "You mind driving me to Deb's in the morning? I don't have anything I need for school tomorrow." He'd been in such a rush to get to Brian's office that he'd forgotten to bring anything - and besides, at that point, he hadn't exactly expected to spend the night at the loft.

Brian sighed dramatically. "You are *so* inconvenient."

"I know," Justin smiled sleepily, knowing he didn't mean it.

"Shit," Brian shifted, stretching out to switch off the blue light. "You might as well start keeping some of your shit here, anyway. You're here often enough."

Justin's eyes snapped open, and suddenly he wasn't so tired.

*

After school the next day, Justin stepped out of the building surprised to see Brian's Jeep parked in the street. They were due to see Mel together, yeah, but not until the evening.

Daphne winked and left (she waved frantically at Brian as she walked away. Brian simply nodded), and Justin jogged towards the Jeep. "Hey," he smiled, opening the door. "Couldn't keep away from me, huh?"

"Get in," Brian said, obviously not amused.

Dumping his bag on the floor of the Jeep, Justin climbed in and shut the door, quickly doing up his seat belt. "What's up?"

"Lindsay," he answered, indicating and then pulling out into the post-school traffic. "It's happening today."

Fuck.

As they escaped the school rush, Brian explained the phone call he'd received from Lindsay earlier. She was getting married today, late in the afternoon - they were fucking lucky with that bit of news, as far as Justin was concerned - and, even knowing he didn't approve, she'd asked Brian to be a witness.

Shit. Maybe she really *had* lost her mind. Or maybe trying to get Brian involved was a last, desperate attempt to get him to stop the wedding.

"I get why she asked me," Brian explained, although it didn't really sound like he was defending her. "It's just...fucking stupid. What is it with stupid blondes, lately?"

Justin would've hit him, but Brian was driving so intently he looked ready to go off the road at any moment.

By the time they pulled up outside the munchers...Linds' place, Mel was already there. Pushing off from where she'd been leaning against her car, she ran over to them. "Finally!" she declared, rubbing her hands together and watching as they climbed out of the Jeep. "I get a phone call from you telling me to leave work and get my ass over here right now but not to go in without you. Do you have *any* idea how frustrating that is, especially when it's about...well, it is what I think it is, right?"

Nodding, Brian seemed completely unconcerned by her rant, looking at the house. "They're getting married today. In about..." he glanced at his watch, "...forty-five minutes. But more importantly," he turned to look at her, "did she tell you anything about Gui adopting Gus?"

She frowned even harder, the skin between her eyebrows crinkling up. "No. I mean, he couldn't anyway because you didn't sign away your rights, but..." Pausing, she looked at him. "Gui adopting Gus? Seriously?"

"That's what he said they wanted," Brian shrugged innocently.

Expression flattening out, Mel swiveled on her heel and marched towards the house, and Justin began to understand exactly what Brian had done - let Mel deal with it. Let Mel and Linds actually start yelling at each other, and maybe something would get accomplished. They'd been stuck in that 'awkward politeness' phase for so long that they weren't getting anywhere.

"You're good," he said proudly.

Sliding an arm around Justin's shoulder, Brian checked for traffic and started crossing the street. "I know."

Mel was on the steps to the porch - and Brian and Justin weren't too far behind - when the door opened and Lindsay started stepping out, looking behind her as she emerged.

"Gui, if you don't hurry we'll be-" Turning to look where she was going, she stopped abruptly, shocked. "Mel!" She held tightly onto the handle of Gus' carrier, careful not to drop him.

Pausing at the bottom of the steps with Brian's arm still around him, Justin watched.

It didn't take long.

"Have you *lost* your *fucking mind*?!"

Some people would never need a megaphone. Mel was definitely one of them.

"M-Mel," Linds stuttered, flustered, "you knew I was getting married-"

"Not that," she interrupted, "even if it is fucking ridiculous. I mean," she nodded towards Gui, who was now peering out from behind Linds, "is it true? Do you seriously want that...that...fucking frog *stranger* to adopt our kid?"

Drawing herself together, Linds cleared her throat. "It's not like that," she insisted. "It was just an idea, something we were thinking about to make the marriage look-"

"Not like a sham?" Mel interrupted. "Too bad, sweetheart. Everyone from here to Liberty Avenue knows you're a dyke."

Flinching, Linds glanced back at the house. "Could we continue this inside?"

"Why not?" Mel asked rhetorically, stomping up onto the porch and pushing past both Linds and Gui to get into the house. "Heaven forbid anyone should ever see us fight."

Standing there awkwardly for a few seconds, Linds mumbled something to Gui and then passed Gus' carrier to him, disappearing into the house with a crooked smile for Brian and Justin.

It didn't take Brian long to remedy the situation. Letting go of Justin he jogged up the steps, taking Gus away from Gui. "*I'll* take *my* kid," he smirked, backing into the house with leer towards Justin.

Justin followed.

The girls had retreated into the kitchen - he could hear raised voices already - so Brian and Justin settled into the living room with Gus, taking him out of his carrier. They played with him and generally tried to keep him occupied, and most of the time Justin tried to keep an ear out for what was happening in the kitchen. He heard the occasional glass break, but the 'conversation' never faltered, so he knew no one ever got hurt.

Slumping down into a chair, Gui watched them moodily as they played on the floor with Gus. Justin almost felt sorry for him - or would have, if he hadn't threatened Brian with the idea of adopting Gus himself.

Unsurprisingly, Brian ignored Gui completely.

Finally, nearly an hour after they'd entered the house, the arguing stopped. Not realising at first, the silence eventually grabbed Justin's attention and he lifted his head, frowning.

And then he heard a moan.

Followed by another moan.

And then...oh, *gross*. "Are they...?" He glanced at Brian, almost not wanting to know.

Screwing his face up into an expression of disgust, Brian covered Gus' ears with his hands. "Christ. If that doesn't warp the kids' mind, nothing will." Quickly pulling his hands away, he spoke directly to his son. "Hey, Gus. You wanna see the front yard, right? That's what I thought." Standing up quickly, he picked Gus up and almost ran out of the house - very carefully not looking towards the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Brian had forgotten it was cold out, and had to come back for the coat, hat, and sweater they'd stripped off Gus when they'd first come inside. Quickly helping Gus back into everything, Brian went back outside and this time they retreated to the Jeep to keep the cold weather away.

When they were all settled in - Brian in the drivers seat, Justin in the passenger seat, Gus on Brian's lap - Brian mock-shuddered. "You know I actually caught them fucking once."

"Mel and Linds?" Justin asked, tapping Gus' nose gently with his index finger. Gus produced a loud noise and made a grab for his finger.

"Yeah, during their early days," Brian shifted, turning Gus further towards Justin. "Nearly stopped me from visiting Linds ever again."

"I can imagine," he replied, but he was kind of distracted by letting Gus grab his finger this time. Of course, it wasn't quite the same as when Gus'd been really young - he wasn't innocently grabbing onto anything nearby. He knew Justin, and was smiling at him.

"I should probably put the heat on," Brian muttered, patting himself with one hand to find his car keys.

"Not for too long," Justin pointed out, encouraging Gus to bounce up and down. "Don't want to risk carbon monoxide building up with a baby in the car."

Pausing, Brian turned to look at him. He stared for so long that eventually Justin noticed and looked up from where he was playing with Gus. "What?"

Brian shook his head. "You are so fucking weird."

Knowing Brian didn't exactly mean it as an insult, Justin found himself flushing again - but only a little. It wasn't his fault he remembered this stuff - he just *did*. "Yeah, well, that's why you like me."

"Among other reasons," Brian retorted, his gaze falling to Justin's groin. Grinning, he reached across and wrapped a hand around Justin's neck, tugging him in for a kiss.

Yeah, it was cold and yeah, being in a warm house right now would be great, but - well. There were definitely worse ways to spend his time.

Squawking and smacking his hands together, Gus apparently agreed.

*

When Mel and Linds had knocked on the Jeep window sometime later (Brian had lowered it and smirked. "So, you two munchers finally finished munching?" "Brian!"), things had started going smoothly. Or at least, things weren't so fucked up as they had been.

Everyone had gone back into the house, where Mel and Linds announced that they were thinking of reconciling. Or trying, at least.

Brian didn't seem hugely impressed, passing Gus to Justin. "Look, for whatever reason you two idiots love each other, so you probably should try to make it work. But whether it works or not, the only thing that matters is Gus. I'm not signing away my rights." He didn't say it harshly, just matter-of-factly, looking at Mel. "And I know we had a deal that I'm backing out of. That's my fault. I didn't expect to care about my kid, but I do, and I'm not giving him up. That said..." he paused to look at Gus, before facing Mel and Linds again. "I do think Mel should have some kind of rights. She's Gus' parent, just as much as Linds and I are - probably more so, in my case." A brief smirk flickered across his mouth. "She *should* be able to go see him in hospital if there's ever anything wrong, or legally be a guardian and all that other shit. Now I don't know if there's any way to do that, any legal way for all three of us to be a parent or guardian, but we should look into that. Work something out. Agreed?"

For once, Mel just nodded her agreement. "I...yes. We should definitely look into it. I can talk to some friends who are experts in family law."

"Good. Linds?"

She still seemed kind of shocked. And her hair was a lot messier than it had been earlier. "Of course. You know I want both of you to have a place in Gus' life." Arching his eyebrows, Brian glanced towards Gui. Linds flushed, getting the message. "I was only thinking of...I never would've let someone else be Gus' father, Brian." She lowered his eyes. "I screwed up." That was putting it mildly.

"You fucked up," Brian corrected. "Majorly." For some reason, he looked over at Justin before focusing back on Linds. "But we all fuck up from time to time. Just try not to turn into a crazy lesbian again. Now," he walked closer to Justin. "I'm sure you two still have a lot to 'communicate'," he made speech marks with his fingers, "to each other, so I'll take Gus for tonight and bring him back tomorrow morning. Assuming there's no objection."

Seeing that there *was* no objection, Justin secured Gus into his carrier and started getting his things together. Mel helped him out so it didn't very take long. Linds had already had a bag packed ready to take with her that held practically everything Gus would need. After a few more additions, Justin was hoisting the bag up and throwing it over his shoulder.

Shit, it was heavy.

While they'd been getting things ready, Linds had been quietly talking to Gui - apologising, no doubt. When they'd all come back into the house he'd moved to the dining table, slumped over, ignored, obviously well aware of the fact that there'd be no Green Card for him anytime soon. That situation sucked, but, well - too bad. Justin had other people to worry about, and none of them were Gui.

When they were in the car and Gus had been secured into his seat, Justin smiled across at Brian. "I love watching you take control like that."

Starting the engine, Brian arched his eyebrows. "You do?"

"Yeah. It was totally hot."

He smirked. "And yet you *don't* like it when I try to take control of *you*."

"Depends on the situation," Justin leered. Shaking his head, Brian reminded him to put on his seatbelt and they pulled away. "If you want any help with Gus tonight, I can't make it until later," Justin explained. "I have a shift tonight." Technically it'd already started, but this'd been important and-

He hadn't needed to be there. He hadn't needed to be there at all, and Brian had brought him along.

Deb'd forgive him.

Brian wasn't offended by the offer, shrugging. "I could stand to spend a night alone with my kid."

Justin wasn't offended either. For once, he could stand to spend a night alone with himself.

*

The next evening, Deb held a celebratory dinner - pasta, of course - for the fact that their protest had gone so well. It was the first night Senator Baxter had free since the protest, and she was there as well as most of the usual gang. Mel and Linds were missing (probably still 'communicating'), but everyone else - Michael included - was there.

It'd been awkward for a while. Michael had eyed Brian warily, Brian had completely ignored the fact that Michael even existed, but everyone else was doing a pretty good job of talking around the obvious elephant in the room. It helped that the Senator had no clue about the history, and didn't hold her wine as well as Justin thought a politician probably should. She'd ranted about Bush for a while, but then she was definitely in the right place to do that.

They were all spread throughout the living room, but there weren't really enough seats for everyone so Brian tugged Justin down to rest against the edge of his chair. The pasta was good - really good - and Justin was eagerly wolfing down a second helping when Senator Baxter smiled towards them.

"So - Brian, Justin. How long have you two been dating?"

Justin didn't choke on his pasta, but he did freeze mid-chew.

Somebody's fork clanked against their plate.

The Senator realised everyone was staring at her, but then it would've been impossible to miss. "Oh...I...if it's too personal, I understand, but," she looked at Brian. "You did tell me you were his boyfriend."

Now everyone was staring at Brian.

Finally swallowing his latest mouthful, Justin fought to clear his throat, trying to look unaffected while also trying to stare at Brian from the corner of his eye. "Actually, Senator, we're not exactly-"

"A while," Brian interrupted tersely, dislodging Justin as he got up from his seat. "I need a smoke." Walking through the living room, he dumped his dishes into the sink and made his way out to the backyard.

It took Justin about two seconds to follow him, but shit, why was it always cold when he had to run after him? Brian was such a drama queen.

Still, by the time he was standing next to Brian in the backyard - he was already puffing away on a cigarette - Justin had some idea of what to say. First, deflect and distract.

"So, that's great news, huh? At least Perkins is taking the request to the school board, thanks to Senator Baxter." She'd told them the latest development almost as soon as she'd arrived.

Brian kept staring out at the night sky. "Don't kid yourself. She's using you for money and votes. Then she'll move on to her next cause, the next fundraiser. Then where will you be?"

Brian's attitude didn't bother him. He was scared, acting out. Justin'd seen it before. "She said it's a small victory."

"Well," he shrugged, "don't think that you've won. That it's over." It'd probably never be over; Justin knew that. As much progress had been made and as much *would* be made in the future, people were still people. And people could be ignorant idiots.

Or complete assholes.

"The minute you do that," Brian continued, blowing out a breath of smoke, "you're dead."

That advice could almost apply to dealing with Brian himself. Would he ever be able to get really *comfortable* with Brian? They could go along happily together for weeks - Brian could even tell him to start leaving his own things in the loft, for example - but then something like this would happen. They'd come so far, and then suddenly - BANG. Brian's defenses, and old issues that he sometimes seemed to have overcome, would slam right back up.

Brian hated lables, and being classified in general. As much as he liked to manipulate and control others, he didn't like being *told* that he was something in particular.

"You know..." Justin began, having decided they'd ignored the subject long enough. "I don't think it could be classified as dating." Brian kept puffing. "I mean, what have we really done? Gone to the cinema once, and that was just because it was a birthday present. Eaten in the diner together, but that's just because we were both there and hungry. Sure, we've had sex a lot - like, really a lot - but fucking on a regular basis doesn't equate actual dating, and-"

"I meant what I said."

Justin stopped. Brian wasn't looking towards him. "Huh?"

"At Mikey's party," he paused. "When I introduced myself to the Senator. I said I was your..." Hesitating, he took another drag. "I do kind of consider you a kind of unconventional...*extremely* unconventional..." Brian sighed. "Boyf..." Closing his eyes together tightly, he rubbed at his forehead with the thumb of the hand holding his cigarette. "I fucking hate that word."

Okay, okay. The way to deal with this was the same way to deal with any kind of emotional admission from Brian - play it cool. Justin could *not* overreact. The news by itself wasn't all that shocking - he knew how much Brian cared about him - but it was the fact that Brian had actually said it. Out loud. Where Justin could, like, *hear* it.

Biting his lip, Justin went with it. "Then don't call me your boyfriend. Just call me Justin." Stepping closer, he wrapped his arm around Brian's waist and looked up at him. "Besides, you're way too cool to have a boyfriend, and I don't need one either." That was true enough. It didn't use to be. In the early days after he first met Brian, he wanted a 'boyfriend', a 'lover', something with a definition that he thought would be substantial. That would matter.

Now he just wanted Brian, and that mattered more than anything else.

Lowering his hand, Brian slowly opened his eyes and frowned down at him. "How'd you do it, Sunshine?" he asked quietly. "How the fuck did you break every rule I ever made and still manage to be standing there?"

That one was easy. "I didn't do anything. It was all you."

For about three seconds Brian looked overwhelmingly, heartbreakingly *terrified*...and then his lips were pressing against Justin's, his mouth opening wide, tongue demanding entry into Justin's mouth. The cigarette must've been thrown away and he wrapped his arms around Justin and he was holding on so tightly, so fucking tightly that Justin thought he might scream with it and-

The back door snapped shut.

Breaking away, Justin furtively brushed at his eyes and took a deep breath before looking over Brian's shoulder to see who it was.

Michael.

Shit. He really didn't want to be interrupted right now - Brian's emotions were all over the place and now his fucking were too - but he couldn't always get what he wanted. "Want me to stay?" he asked softly.

Shaking his head, Brian kissed his temple and took out another cigarette. His hands were shaking. "Think this one's gotta be all mine, kid."

He was probably right. It'd been a long time coming. And because he couldn't let it pass by uncommented... "I'm not a kid."

Smirking, Brian kissed him again. "No, you're really not."

Justin didn't ask if he'd be spending the night at Brian's, although he figured he probably wouldn't. Not after Brian's freak-out or whatever the fuck it was just now. And even if he didn't, he knew it didn't mean Brian didn't care about him, just that Brian was...Brian.

Besides, Brian and Michael really needed this talk right now, and given their past history, it could well end with an all-nighter that involved lots of pot and junk food.

Planting one last kiss on Brian's mouth, Justin pulled away and nodded to Michael as he walked into the house. When he was in the kitchen he ignored everything else - the Senator's apologies, Deb's offer of more pasta, Em's offer of wine - and stared through the kitchen window, watching from the inside out.

*

Frustratingly, he didn't get to hear any details of what Brian and Michael talked about at Deb's dinner. All Justin knew was that he hadn't been invited to the loft that night, and the next time he saw Brian he was simply told that the old best friends were trying out friendship again.

Brian wouldn't tell him anything else about it.

The next week or so passed by slowly. Justin still saw Brian, and they still had sex, but things were weird between them now in a way they hadn't been before. 90% of the time Justin usually figured out how to handle Brian. He could get a good read on him, figure out what needed to be done to get him out of a particular mood or funk.

This time, nothing was working. Being cute, being annoying, flirtatious, demanding, stubborn, even doing nothing - no matter what Justin did or didn't do, Brian just kept acting...well, depressed.

Depressed for Brian was not good and Justin started getting anxious, worried he might start drinking again. Em met him on his dinner break for a strategy meeting, where Justin ate his way through two cheeseburgers, six lemon bars, and a months' supply of fries.

"Sweetie," Emmett urged, "there's only enough room for one addict in your relationship. Put the food down."

Sighing, Justin abandoned the latest clump of fries. "Sorry." Em was right - stress eating was a bad habit to get into.

Reaching out to pat Justin's hand, Emmett studied him sympathetically. "So nothing's changed in the last few days." It wasn't a question.

"No," Justin moped, hating feeling useless - it reminded him too much of the early days, when Brian was still drinking. "We still hook up and we still fuck, but it's like he's...not really paying attention." Which Justin might have found insulting if it wasn't for the fact that Brian didn't seem to be paying attention to anything else, either. Stressful though Brian's job could be, his obvious enjoyment for his work was missing, too. "It just doesn't make any sense," he complained, not for the first time. Brian's weirdness had started the night of Deb's dinner. He insisted that his mood lately had nothing to do with Michael, so Justin could only think that it was because Senator Baxter had asked them how long they'd been dating - but it wasn't like that was the first time Brian had ever had to deal with 'relationship' stuff he was uncomfortable with. "Normally when he's uncomfortable or upset about something he gets really pissy for a while, or-" he paused, his mind practically clanging to a halt, and when Justin stared at Emmett he saw that he'd realised the same thing, too.

"Or," Em continued thoughtfully, "he'd drink."

Which he didn't do anymore.

Hopefully.

So when he *was* upset about something he didn't have drinking to fall back on, and maybe being bitchy didn't work all the time...? If that was the case, what was it exactly? Some kind of...

"...coping mechanism?" Emmett asked, practically finishing his thoughts. "Heaven knows even 'normal' people don't always have effective coping mechanisms, and if Brian has developed a new one...well, he's *Brian* so, of course, it'd be fucked up."

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe it wasn't fucked up at all, and Brian was dealing with it at his own pace and Justin was just overreacting. Wouldn't be the first time.

Either way, there didn't seem to be anything Justin could do for now but wait it out. And his break was almost over, so he forced a grin and changed the subject.

Emmett let him.

When Justin left the diner a few hours later, Brian was waiting for him in the Jeep. It was more pro-active than Brian had been about them meeting up lately, so Justin felt vaguely optimistic as they drove off. Brian hadn't greeted him with a kiss, but he didn't usually do that anyway.

Later, after an enjoyable but almost perfunctory fuck, he laid down on the bed next to Brian.

"I'm not going to start drinking again because of this."

Blinking at the words - was Brian psychic now? - Justin turned his head towards him. "Okay."

"That's a promise, Justin."

Brian never broke his promises, and Justin believed him anyway. He should've felt better about the situation.

He didn't. "Okay. Is it...?" His words stumbled. It'd been a while since he'd been afraid of saying the wrong thing to Brian, of being scared of saying something that might risk setting him off. He wasn't used to that feeling anymore.

Brian had changed while he wasn't looking. He wasn't entirely sure who he was in bed with anymore.

Lighting up a cigarette, Brian sprawled back on the bed and blew out a big puff of smoke. A sigh came with it. "I've been on one," he said, sounding resigned. "Exactly one. In my entire fucking life."

"One what?" Justin rolled onto his side towards him.

Holding the cigarette between the thumb and index finger of his right hand, Brian pointed it towards the ceiling. "Date." He enunciated it clearly. "Date. I, Brian Kinney, have been on a date." While Justin stared in shock, Brian lowered the cigarette and took another drag. "And it went so well that I ended up fucking the waiter."

Stunned though he was, Justin still had to stifle a smile.

Brian had dated before? Even if it was just once? Why the fuck had no one told him? True, not everyone would know - and Brian probably would've gone to great lengths to ensure that no one else found out - but given how long he'd known Michael, Debbie and Linds, one of them had to know. Or at least one of them *should* have known. This was vital Brian information that Justin should've already had access to.

"Oh." What else was he supposed to say? "That's...surprising."

"No shit," coughing out a laugh, Brian glanced at him. "Almost can't believe it myself. But..." The smile he'd managed to produce faded. "You'll want that shit."

Was *that* what this was about? Not Brian freaking out about being someone's 'boyfriend' or being accused of dating, but instead freaking out over what he thought Justin's expectations were?

He wasn't so hard to read after all. He just...took a different route. "Brian." Beautiful, gorgeous, *idiot*. "When have I ever said that I wanted to go on dates with you? That I said I wanted us to be boyfriends?" Brian gave him a look and, flushing, Justin understood immediately. "I was seventeen."

Brian seemed thoroughly entertained. "Yeah, 'cause that was such a long time ago."

"Fuck off," Justin warned, embarrassed. "I was practically still a virgin; I didn't know any better. So," he ignored the amused look Brian was shooting him. "Since I stopped being a stupid twink who didn't know anything, when have I ever said I wanted to go on dates with you?"

Sighing, Brian stubbed out his cigarette then propped himself up, sitting with his back against the headboard. "Are you seriously telling me you don't want that? That you wouldn't like to...do date shit?"

Shit. Well, he couldn't really lie about it. There was part of him... "Okay, yeah. I would like to do things with you. Things that other people might consider dates." He shrugged. "It'd be fun going new places with you. But..." he tipped his head slightly. "It doesn't have to be some kind of...requirement. Like...we're in a relationship, therefore we *have* to date. It's not that ritualised, Brian, even though you think it is." Frowning, Justin studied him. "You have a really fucked up view of relationships in general, did anyone ever tell you that?" Of course, this was hardly news.

Groaning, Brian threw himself back down on the bed and grabbed a pillow, covering his head. "Jesus Christ, you talk *so much*."

Shit, what had he even been worried about earlier? Brian was just a big baby. Or a big drama queen. Either one worked.

Shimmying closer, Justin spoke near the edge of the pillow. "The only thing that matters to me is spending time with you. I'm not asking for dates, or monogamy - just you. All I want now is you. Brian. Anything else is up to you." For now, anyway. If Justin started feeling differently - although he didn't see that happening - they'd work that out, too.

The body under the pillow didn't shift, and after making sure that he wasn't about to suffocate, Justin rolled back onto his back. The evening had gone really well, considering how it'd started. He'd been so worried earlier, and now...

"You know, you really scared me before."

The pillow didn't move, but a muffled voice replied, "Now you fucking know how I feel."

It was fantastic progress, of course, but Justin decided not to mention that.

*

Friday night and the boys were all at Woody's. Brian had been doing better, evidenced by the way he was practically molesting Justin next to the pool table.

Not that Justin was putting up much of a fight.

Still, it did feel kinda weird when he saw Michael watching them - Brian and Michael were still re-attempting the friendship thing, but David hadn't been able to make it - and it gave his brain enough coherency to pull Brian's wandering hand out of his pants. "Later, okay?" he promised, and Brian grumbled but gave in.

Turning to face the others, Justin received a wink from Emmett and something disturbingly resembling a leer from Ted. Michael just looked...confused.

As for Steve - who had finally been brought along and introduced to the rest of the gang (Justin wasn't sure yet if the delay in introducing him had been Emmett's idea or Steve's) - he just grinned, apparently happy to be there.

"So Dartmouth, huh?" Ted asked, as Em took a shot and actually potted something. "That's a really good school."

Justin had received the letter earlier today - Brian had even given him a celebratory handjob - but he couldn't really get excited about it. It was cool he got accepted, yeah, but it wasn't what he wanted. "Yeah, but I decided not to go."

Ted nearly spat out his beer. "Why not?"

He shrugged. "I could never be a business major - besides, applying was just to get my dad off my back. I decided I wanna go to the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts, instead." Justin looked at everyone. "If I get in."

"And here I'd thought I was finally rid of you." Tugging him close, Brian pretended to throttle him.

Laughing, Justin mock-fought him. Brian already knew his plans - they'd talked about it before coming to Woody's. Nothing and no one was taking him away from Brian (although he hadn't actually told Brian that), and fortunately Pittsburgh had a kick-ass art school. "Not until I say so!"

The guys 'oooh'ed and laughed as Brian and Justin kept pretending to wrestle with each other.

"What'll your parents say?" Steve asked.

His good mood fading a little, Justin ended up getting 'caught' facing away from Brian. "I don't care what my parents say. I've gotta do what makes me happy." The hand on his side squeezed.

Lifting his bottle in silent salute, Ted spoke. "Spoken like a true disciple of Brian's."

"The best kind," Justin smiled - and he had Brian's arms around him just then, so he'd be the one to know.

About ten minutes later, the guys started making noises about moving on to Babylon.

"And how about you, Baby?" Emmett addressed Justin, but looked at both of them. "You coming along?"

Justin didn't even need to look at Brian. "Nah, not tonight. Not feeling up to it. But you guys have fun."

Everyone waved or said goodbye; Em departed with a brief kiss to Justin's face. When they were alone, Brian grabbed his sides and turned him around. "If you wanted to go..."

Justin smiled up at him. "I didn't."

Brian wasn't satisfied. "Just because I'm not, doesn't mean that you-"

"Oh yeah," he interrupted, "dancing with five hundred queers I don't know, or spending the night with Brian Kinney." Justin pretended to think about it. "Tough call."

Pinching him lightly on the side, Brian was then apparently struck with an idea. "We could go somewhere else. Someplace you haven't been yet. A very important part of your development as a gay man."

Justin was intrigued, and he'd try anything once. "Sure."

*

Okay, so he hadn't expected the baths.

But, Brian was right - it wasn't someplace he'd been before, and he *was* kind of curious. He didn't think anonymous fucking was really his thing, but he was willing to check it out (and he was kind of hoping that, with Brian around, he wouldn't be doing any anonymous fucking anyway).

After they parked but before getting out of the Jeep, Brian had made absolutely sure that Justin wanted to try it out. Like Brian most of the time, it was kind of sweet and kind of frustrating.

Spending so much time with Brian had pretty much eliminated any modesty Justin had about his body, which was just as well. Inside the baths, the clothing of choice was a towel and nothing else. Telling Justin to keep close (after seeing the looks some of the guys were sending him, Justin seriously had no problem with that), Brian slowly and confidently led the way through the baths.

At first, there was a maze of corridors, filled with rooms - none of them very large. The doors on some of them were shut, and it was easy to guess what was going on behind them. The open rooms they passed were either empty, or had some guy lying on something that wouldn't even pass for a bed, sticking his ass up in the air - just waiting to be fucked by whoever happened to be passing by.

Holy shit.

Instinctively moving closer to Brian, he grabbed for his hand.

"The rooms aren't really my thing," Brian said quietly. "You wanna leave?"

"No." And he didn't. Even though the whole thing was kind of...icky, and just *more* than Justin had been expecting, he still wanted to see the rest.

They were passing by another open doorway, when a guy wearing the requisite white towel around his waist stepped out - and recognised Brian. He was overweight and not particularly hot, and given that Justin wondered how Brian even knew him.

"Brian!" the guy greeted happily. "So, what are you doing here in the Ninth Circle of Hell?"

He nudged Justin. "Just educating a first timer."

Barely giving Justin a glance, the guy all but ignored him. Justin couldn't have been more grateful that he wasn't the guy's type. "See anything interesting?"

"Not really," Brian shrugged. "They all look like markdowns today."

"Hmm..." the guy seemed to think about, absently rubbing at his groin. "There's a tall redhead in 27 with a black leather dildo. He might be a possibility for later."

"I'll keep that in mind." Nudging Justin again, Brian started walking.

"If you get into anything give me a holler," the guy said as they walked away. "I'll be happy to stick a finger in your ass."

And *that* was a mental image Justin really didn't need. "Oh my God, Brian," Justin shuddered openly when he was sure they were far enough away, "how do you even know that guy?" This so wasn't for him.

"Long story," he answered, just as the corridor they were in opened into a large - extremely large - room. Lit in nothing but blue light, Justin could see heaving masses of naked flesh. There were couples, and threesomes, and entire fucking pyramids of naked guys fucking, jacking, sucking, groaning.

His cock twitched and began to harden. He didn't...totally hate this idea. The anonymous fucking in the private room, just waiting with your ass up for someone to come and fuck you - no. Definitely not. It wasn't even the idea of it being a stranger so much, but Justin needed to see who he was having sex with. Needed to see their face, their eyes, even if it was just for a fuck.

Noticing his reaction, Brian's free hand cupped Justin through his towel as he grinned at him. "You like that, huh?"

Justin still wasn't sure. Being faced with so much sex...he was a teenager; of course, he'd get hard. "I don't know yet," he answered honestly, remembering how he would've reacted months ago, saying yes just because he thought it'd make Brian happy. He was glad things had changed. "Let's walk some more."

Apparently, in no rush, Brian walked further into the room, pausing whenever Justin wanted to ogle a particular group of guys.

Yeah, he definitely liked this. He still had his doubts about actually *being* with a particular group of guys, but the watching was good. "I think," he kept looking around, his gaze eventually settling on a guy who was getting jerked off in the corner, "I might get used to this." The guy groaned, turning a little to the side.

Justin froze.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

"Justin?"

The guy in the corner. It was David. Fucking David. Michael's David.

Shit.

*

Brian had said that they should keep their mouths shut - that it was David and Michael's business, no one else's, and that they shouldn't say anything.

Of course, that didn't mean Brian couldn't mock David whenever he saw him.

Well, more than usual.

Justin wasn't so sure. Sure, he and Michael had never really been friends, but if Justin had been in a monogamous relationship and his boyfriend had cheated, he'd want to know about it - no matter how much it hurt.

The next day was Saturday, and after waking up and enjoying a leisurely fuck in the shower (Justin was *so* glad things were back to normal), they decided to head to the diner for a late breakfast. Deb was there, and seeing her made him think of Michael and his head got stuck in the should-I-tell-him debate all over again.

She fussed over them, took their orders and brought them their drinks, and when she left Justin sighed and sipped at his juice.

Brian frowned at him. "What's up?"

Putting the glass back down, Justin shrugged. "It's just kind of...sad, that's all." Brian gave him that What the fuck? look, so Justin continued. "Mel and Linds...Michael and David..." Pausing, Justin made sure Deb wasn't nearby before continuing. "They promised they'd be monogamous to each other, and they couldn't do it. Or at least Mel and David couldn't. I know, I know," he continued before Brian could interrupt, "it's their own fault for promising to be monogamous, that monogamy isn't the be all and end all, that it doesn't necessarily 'prove' how much you care about someone, but..." He looked at Brian. "It *does* mean that to some people, Brian. It is important to some people. And whether that's true or not, it's still kind of what you expect as a kid - that later on, when you're married or whatever, you'll only be with that person. One person. And be happy that way." Only that didn't seem to be true, these days. Justin was fairly sure neither of his parents had fucked around, and their marriage wasn't exactly happy right now.

Mostly because of him.

Brian seemed to get it. "Growing up can suck. Of course..." he leered at him. "Growing up also means you *can* suck."

Unable to stop himself, Justin laughed. "Brian..."

"Look," Brian poured way too much sugar into his coffee and started stirring it. "Life can be shitty. No doubt about it. It's never what it's cracked up to be, and things are never the way you thought they were when you were a kid. But," done with the spoon, he placed it on the table and picked up his coffee, tasting it experimentally, "life also has hot sex. Kids like Gus. And twats named Justin who thinks entirely too fucking much."

Pleased, Justin grinned. "So take the good with the bad, huh?" Brian just lifted his eyebrows. "This feels like something I should be saying to you. Feels like we should be switching roles."

Brian did an intentionally bad job of staring at him blankly. "No, this does not mean you'll be topping anytime soon."

Still laughing when Deb brought their food over, Justin smiled up at her confused expression and dug into his breakfast heartily. He and Brian kept talking and teasing as they ate, and Justin was feeling much better all around when Deb walked up to the table again.

"Hey, Sunshine - a word?" She gestured to the counter.

Turning back to Brian, he shrugged as he stood up. "Be right back." Brian lifted his cup in acknowledgment.

When he reached Deb she was standing on the other side of the counter, and Justin had the ominous feeling that this was going to be another one of those 'you should spend some time at that place where you actually live' speeches.

"So," she looked distinctly unimpressed as she regarded him, "I couldn't help but notice that most of your clothes have disappeared from the house. And once a week or so, suddenly a big pile of laundry turns up." Ohhhhh. "Anything you'd care to tell me?"

He'd started off subtly at first. After Brian told him he might as well move some of his stuff in, he'd brought over just his own toiletries - and stopped using the spares Brian seemed to have in abundance. Toothbrush, shaving stuff (Brian had laughed when he'd seen that. "What the fuck do you need that for?" Justin had stuck his tongue out at him), deodorant. And then he'd started sneaking clothes in. One shirt, then two. A uniform for school.

And then one day he just thought, fuck it, and moved most of his clothes and his favourite CDs in.

He'd been thinking about moving his easel for a while, but decided that was probably a step too far.

Deb was still staring at him.

"Brian kind of..." He felt stupidly happily and stupidly shy as he said it. "...told me I could keep some of my stuff at his place." He'd shared that bit of news with Daphne and Emmett, but had resisted telling Vic. He hadn't been sure how Deb would react, and he didn't want Vic to have to hide it from his sister.

Snapping her gum, Deb just kept looking at him. "He did, huh?" Justin nodded warily, and Deb's apparently severe expression transformed into a huge smile. "That's great, kiddo!"

Well...huh. Okay. Not the reaction he'd been expecting. "I thought you'd be angry."

"Why the fuck would I be angry? Yeah, I still think you should spend more time at my house for your Mom's sake, not to mention mine and Vic's - we miss seeing you around the place," reaching out, she ruffled his hair and frowned as she realised something. "Shit, you need a haircut." Moving her hand away, she kept talking as if she hadn't gone off on a tangent. "But Brian telling you that? That's *great* news, sweetheart. Just don't run into anything too quickly, you hear?" Deb could go through moods faster than anyone else. "And if you do end up actually moving in with him again someday, then you're doing your own fucking laundry. Okay?"

Grinning at the laundry comment (he usually did his own anyway) - and the idea of officially moving in with Brian - Justin nodded. "Don't worry, Deb," he teased. "I'll just get Brian's cleaner to do it."

Gently whacking him across the head, she scowled at him fondly. "Little asshole. And he's a big asshole," she looked over to where Brian was sitting, getting his coffee refilled by Rita. "It was his idea for you to fucking move in with me, and now he's the one taking you away from me."

Uh, what? Justin frowned. "I thought Em was the one who told you I needed a place to stay."

Surprised, she looked back at him. "No, Sunshine, it was definitely Brian. You didn't know?" He shook his head. "Typical." She rolled her eyes. "Well, it must've been right after you moved out of his place after whatever the fuck happened between the two of you - I'm guessing now that it had something to do with his drinking?" Justin nodded quietly, but didn't give anything else away. He knew Deb would still love to know all the details. "Well, he gave me a call and told me that something had come up and you wouldn't be staying with him anymore. Said that, if I didn't mind, maybe you could stay in Mikey's old room. Offered to help out with money if I needed it - not that I did." Pausing, she looked off to one side as if trying to remember something. "I ripped him a new asshole for kicking you out - or at least that's what I thought he was doing." She frowned. "He sounded like shit."

This was another one of those times when Justin didn't know if he wanted to hit Brian or hug him. It wasn't such a huge thing, really, but all this time he'd thought Emmett had been the one to contact Deb and...okay, so it was pretty huge. At the time he'd recently handcuffed Brian to his shower and forced him through withdrawal. Brian should've fucking *hated* him, but he'd still called Deb and...

Justin was all set to go running through the diner and throw himself at Brian, when Vic was suddenly standing next to them.

"Justin! Just the young man I was looking for."

He was still kind of occupied with Brian, trying to see him over Vic's shoulder. "Huh?"

"Actually, I was looking for you, sis, since I figured you'd have more chance of seeing him these days," he winked at Justin, who was finally paying attention - and feeling a little guilty. "But since he's actually here..." he held out an envelope Justin hadn't noticed he'd been carrying. "This just came in the mail."

Taking it from him, Justin frowned at the stamp in the top left-hand corner.

PI
FA
Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts

His whole body froze.

This was it. This was the one they'd been waiting for. Vic and Deb had been ecstatic when he'd got into Dartmouth, but they knew that PIFA was the college he really wanted. And the answer was right there, waiting inside the envelope.

"Well?" Deb urged. "Open it already!"

"I...can't." And he couldn't. There was so much riding on it. And for once it had nothing to do with Brian, or being near him, or what was convenient - as much as that was all true. Justin *wanted* this. He wanted it because he fucking loved creating, and art, and he wanted to take these courses and go to this school and if he didn't get in he knew he'd be devastated. He could take art at other colleges, but PIFA had been at the back of his mind ever since he'd first started thinking about college years ago.

He wanted this. For him.

"You do it."

Cursing, Deb snatched the envelope out of his hand and ripped it open, taking the letter out. Eyes quickly flicking over and reading the contents, she paused and slowly looked up at him.

Justin bit his lip.

Deb smiled. "Congratulations, Piccaso," she said, turning the letter towards him so he could read it.

We are pleased to...

Someone was yelling - it might've been him - and Deb was laughing and screeching and hugging him from the other side of the counter, and Vic was grinning and patting his shoulder and then Brian was there, frowning at everyone.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Brian!" he yelled, grabbing the letter from Debbie and practically jumping him right there in the middle of the diner. "Brian! I got in! I got in to PIFA!" And he was grabbing on, and Brian was holding back onto him so hard, and Justin was gonna show Craig Taylor what a great big fucking success he was gonna be.

"Told ya," Brian murmured, not letting go, his hand twisting up the back of Justin's shirt, "told ya you were a fucking genius." And he had. Ever since he'd mentioned applying to PIFA Brian had told him he'd get in, that he was good enough, and when Brian gave his opinion on something it was never anything but the truth.

Completely unable to stop grinning, Justin lifted his head and kissed him. He was going to PIFA, and his *boyfriend* who was maybe-kind of-sorta-possibly-eventually getting used to that term, loved him so fucking much.

Sometimes, it was really fucking good being Justin Taylor.

*

His good mood stayed for the rest of the day.

It being Saturday, Brian said they should do something to celebrate - Justin's choice. It was a pretty big step for Brian, so Justin kissed him and said he wanted to go to the Carnegie Museum of Art.

He'd seen some of the current exhibitions before, but the last time he'd gone there with Mom she'd wanted to look at the permanent collections. Ths time he ended up spending most of his visit in an exhibition called Folds, Blobs and Boxes, which was about the use of computers and software, and how they'd changed animation techniques and the way architects designed buildings. It only increased his interest in animation more, and he rambled on about it for ten minutes until Brian pulled him into a toilet cubicle and fucked the words right out of him.

For lunch, they went to Justin's favourite restaurant, and afterward - even though admission to the Museum of Art included admission to the Museum of Natural History - Justin wanted to visit The Andy Warhol Museum instead.

Warhol wasn't his favourite artist so he hadn't been there for a while - but frankly, he didn't want to look at the art. The museum ran a Weekend Factory where members of the public could try experimenting with some of Warhol's techniques themselves, and Justin was determined to get Brian to try it.

It took some convincing. Brian hadn't seemed too resistant to the idea until he saw a young girl - she must've been around eight years old - laughing as a helper and her parents helped her design her own t-shirt. From the looks of things, she'd been there before, and had probably come to the museum for the same reason Justin had.

After that Brian flat-out refused to make his own shirt, and Justin only got him to give in after bartering t-shirt making for four blowjobs and a fuck in any place of Brian's choosing.

Still, that didn't stop him from glaring at Tracey, who talked them through and showed them the screen-printing process - Justin already knew how it worked but it was still fun seeing it in action. Of the faces available, Brian opted for Debbie Harry. Justin couldn't decide between Madonna or Warhol himself for a while, but eventually went with Madonna.

Brian got all anal about Debbie Harry's face being at a particular angle, and by the time they paid for the t-shirts, Justin thought he might even have been enjoying himself.

Before they'd left the diner Deb had informed them in no uncertain terms that they were *not* missing dinner at her place tonight. She wanted to celebrate Justin getting into PIFA too, so when they left the museum at quarter to five - just before closing - they decided to drive straight over to Deb's. That meant they were early, of course, so Brian suggested they do *something* to pass the time.

Vic laughed as they ran up to Justin's bedroom.

"Is this the fuck I owe you?" Justin asked, falling onto the bed and pulling at Brian's pants.

"No." Batting his hands away, Brian grabbed his wrists and climbed on top of him. "That fuck will be a *lot* more creative."

Two minutes later when Brian had his tongue up Justin's ass, Justin didn't think things could get much more creative.

One extremely enjoyable fuck later, Justin was lying on top of Brian. Brian had both arms around him, holding him still, and every now and then Justin happily rubbed his nose against Brian's chest. Just because it was there.

"This," Justin yawned, "may have been the best day of my entire life." He seriously wasn't exaggerating. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun. Maybe a night at Em's?

"You're easily pleased," Brian snarked, but not cruelly.

Not moving his head, Justin reached a hand up and felt around until he could tug gently at Brian's hair. "I know you had a good time."

Brian moved his head. "It was okay." High praise from Brian Kinney. "And leave my hair alone."

Grinning into Brian's chest, Justin released his hair and dozed off.

It was Vic who roused them sometime later, warning them that they should get dressed unless Justin really wanted his mom to see his bare ass.

He pushed himself up immediately, using Brian as a fulcrum (Brian groaned and told him to move his fucking hand from his chest). "Mom's here?"

And his mom *was* there. He probably should've realised Deb would've invited her to celebrate this, but he'd honestly only expected anyone from the usual gang to turn up - he'd been planning on telling Mom about PIFA in person the next day.

Cleaned and dressed, he greeted her as he jogged down the stairs. "Hey, Mom."

Smiling - a little emotionally? - she held out her arms as she moved towards him. "Sweetheart." Justin didn't hesitate at all, falling into the hug easily. "Congratulations, honey. I'm so proud of you."

Beaming, he hugged her back. "Thanks, Mom." A few months ago, her approval...well, he still would've wanted it, if he were completely honest with himself. But lately, it meant more.

Pulling out of the hug eventually, he was still smiling as he looked at her face. She was smiling too, but she also still seemed emotional - too emotional - her eyes watering. The PIFA thing was pretty big news, but not *that* big, and he found himself frowning. "Mom? Is everything-?"

The doorbell rang, and the onslaught began.

Everybody turned up.

Everybody consisted of Emmett, Steve, Ted, Mel, Linds, Gus, Daphne - even Michael. The only people who weren't there was Molly - who was spending the night at a friends house - and David. Given that he and Justin had barely ever talked to each other, *and* what they'd seen him do in the baths the previous night, it wasn't really a surprise.

Justin, though, was surprised at how many people had turned up - it was more than had even shown up for his birthday. Some people he'd definitely expected - Em and Daph, and Michael trying to make things right - but he was still kind of stunned.

This time Deb had laid out a buffet - it seemed she could arrange anything at the last minute - telling everyone to help themselves and talk with each other. The big group had broken off into smaller groups, and Justin found himself talking with Mel and Linds near the kitchen. "Seriously," he told them, "it was really nice of you guys to come, but everyone's making a bigger deal out of it than I expected. It's kind of weird."

"Oh, sweetie," Linds explained, holding Gus, "to be honest, we felt so bad about not being here for your eighteenth." She flushed a little, flicking her gaze towards Mel. "We let out own issues get in the way of how we should've been treating our friends." Surprised, Justin lifted his eyebrows. Maybe they'd been going to therapy or something. "And in a partial attempt to rectify that..." she looked at Mel again, properly this time, and Mel nodded.

Walking to the front door, Mel returned with a wrapped *something* that was obviously a gift. "This is for you. Congratulations."

Taking it from her, he stared at it, his fingers itching to rip at the wrapping paper. It was pretty big. "You didn't have to-"

"Just open the damn thing," she grinned, apparently knowing him better than he thought.

Kicking Daphne out of her seat, Justin sat down and eagerly ripped the paper off. It was a box made out of wood, and he began to suspect what it was even before he opened it.

It was a box for holding and carrying art supplies, and it was filled to the brim with everything he could've wanted. Pens, art pencils, paintbrushes, tools - the better quality stuff, too. It couldn't have been cheap.

"It's what all great artists get," Mel assured him. "Lindsay knows these things."

Lindsay smiled, watching him as he kept staring at the contents. "I know you want to get into computer graphics and animation, but first you're going to have to study all the traditional techniques - still life, life class, composition - because no matter what you eventually do, you need to have solid, classical training."

"Even Picasso knew how to draw people's eyes in the right places," Mel smirked, raising her glass of wine.

Wow. He...he was kind of stunned that they'd done this. Closing the box, he ran his fingers over it and smiled up at them. "Thank you, guys. So much. You really didn't need to-"

Raised voices interrupted, making the three of them - and no doubt everyone else - turn to stare. Emmett and Ted had been standing by the stairs, talking, but something had obviously happened because now they were at each other's throats. Justin had never seen them argue before - it was one of those things he'd never expected to see, like his parents having sex.

After Em yelled, "He's fucking using you!" Ted stormed to the front of the house and grabbed his coat from the rack. "Sorry, Justin," he said, opening the front door. "I have to go. Congratulations." Opening the front door, he slammed out of the house and left the rest of them standing in surprised silence.

It didn't take Steve long to reach Emmett's side, and Justin stood up, shoving the box back into Mel's arms. "Sorry, I'll be right back." Conversation slowly started up again - they were probably all speculating about exactly what was going on - and Justin quickly reached Emmett, touching his arm. "Em..." He managed a small smile for Steve. Steve nodded back.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Em replied, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to cry or kick the shit out of something. "I didn't mean to ruin your party, I-"

"Forget about the party," Justin ordered. "What's happening?"

Straightening his shoulders, Em definitely looked now like wanted to kick the shut out of something. "At Babylon last night we ran into Blake," Justin frowned, not recognising the name. "The tweaked-out tramp who put Ted in a coma?" Ohhh. Shit. He nodded, and Emmett continued. "He OD'ed of course, and Ted ended up spending all fucking night with him at the hospital. Now, *now*," he almost yelled, "Blake's *living* with him. Teddy took home his latest pet project - the guy who almost killed him. That's why he left. Not because we argued, but because he has to make sure the little fucker hasn't OD'ed in the fifty minutes he's been gone." Quickly gulping down the last of his drink, Emmett stared angrily at the glass. "I need another fucking drink."

"I'll get it," Steve offered, taking Emmett's glass and disappearing into the kitchen.

"It'll work out," Justin told Em, hoping like fuck that was true. He couldn't really judge Ted's behaviour, but he was worried things would go badly. "You'll see."

Vic showed up then, and Justin decided to leave them alone so he could work his magic on Em. With a last squeeze of Em's arm, Justin joined Steve in the kitchen.

"Hey, Steve?"

He was busy pouring more wine into Emmett's glass. "Yeah?"

"You gonna be okay with this?" The truth was, he still didn't really know Steve. And though the guy obviously cared about Emmett, dealing with everything that came with Emmett - like how much he cared about Ted - could've been daunting.

Placing the bottle back on the counter, Steve turned and smiled at him. "Yeah, I've got him."

Feeling better, Justin smiled too. "Good. If he needs some space or just wants to be alone later, my room's just upstairs."

Steve frowned at him. "You don't live with Brian?"

Uhhhh...huh. "Not exactly." *Huh*. "You thought I lived with Brian? I thought Emmett would've told you-"

"Emmett doesn't tell me much about you guys," he shrugged, not unhappily. "At least not about the two of you together. I'm having to figure out the Brian and Justin puzzle all by myself," he finished with a grin.

Just then, Brian stepped into the kitchen. So far he'd mostly been talking with Michael, but now he apparently wanted to interrupt. "So many have failed," he declared, wrapping an arm around Justin's neck and pulling him closer. "Hey, kid."

"I'm not a-"

"Right," Brian said, and kissed him. By the time they parted, Steve was long gone.

Justin sighed. "You really don't have to do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Mark your territory. It's not like I'm interested in him or he's interested in me."

Brian all but huffed. "I was not-"

"Right, Brian. Next time you might as well pee on my leg."

Clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Brian eventually produced a response. "Sorry, Sunshine. I'm not into golden showers."

Ewww. "That's gross." Turning to face him, Justin wrapped his arms around Brian's torso and closed his eyes, pressing the side of his face to Brian's chest. He sighed. "I like it here."

Brian nudged the top of his head with his chin, his arms going around him. "What's up with Ms. Emmett?"

Justin sighed again. "Seems Ted is hooking up with that guy who put him in a coma."

"Shit," he said, although it sounded more like a statement of his belief in Ted's stupidity than actual concern. "Some people never learn. But I guess you finally have something in common with Theodore."

"I do?" Justin asked, enjoying the warmth.

"Yeah. You two just can't stop trying to save addicts from themselves."

Surprised, Justin pulled back to look at Brian's face but didn't release him. The words hadn't been said harshly, and Brian was staring down at him with a vague smile on his face. Justin matched it. "Lucky for you, huh?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. Justin dug his fingers into his sides and Brian tried to twist away. "Okay, okay!" he gave in when Justin wouldn't release him. "I'm fucking lucky you're a stubborn little shit."

"That's more like it," Justin said, and kissed him.

*

After things calmed down - and Emmett drank more wine - Justin found himself talking with Daphne, then Deb, then Michael. Brian tagged along the entire time, and through it all he seemed intent on driving Justin crazy. Subtle gropes, little squeezes, fingertips grazing against exposed skin; he remained plastered to Justin's side.

Brian was obviously horny, and before long Justin was too.

Telling Michael he needed to use the bathroom, Justin made his way upstairs. He hadn't even looked at Brian before leaving, knowing he'd get the message, and waited in the hallway upstairs. What felt like eons later - but was probably only a couple of minutes - Brian finally came upstairs too. Normally the two of them didn't really try to hide it when they went off to fuck, but with Mom there...well. He didn't want to freak her out *too* much.

Keeping his back pressed up against the wall Justin didn't move, smirking and lifting his eyebrows as Brian stepped closer. "It's about-" Brian shut him up by kissing him, and as that was usually the best way they communicated, Justin didn't really have a problem with it.

It still amazed him, sometimes, that it could be like this. They'd already fucked that day - more than once - but sometimes it still flared up like this, like they hadn't seen each other for months, and anything that got in the way - clothes, walls, furniture - wanted to be ripped apart, torn to pieces, just so they could *be* together.

When Brian started working on the zipper to his cargo pants, some shred of sanity thread through Justin's brain. "Bedroom," he breathed, ending that particular kiss, "bedroom."

Brian all but picked him up by the waist, and in a matter of seconds, Justin felt his back hitting another wall - this one inside the bedroom, just by the still-open door. Justin's shred of sanity only went so far and for him, that move was good enough, so they kissed again and he started working at the buttons on Brian's jeans.

He got the jeans down just far enough and tugged his own pants down, stepping out of them. Brian had already fished a condom and a small packet of lube out of his pocket, so Justin took the condom from him and ripped it open, quickly rolling it over Brian's cock. Opening the lube himself, Brian hoisted Justin's legs up, gripping his thighs, and Justin went with him, obediently wrapping his legs around Brian's waist.

Meeting Justin's gaze, holding it, Brian pushed one lubed finger inside, then two. Though they both loved rough sex, Brian had always warned him how easy it was for something to tear and always took preparation seriously.

Justin couldn't object to the fact that Brian's cock wasn't inside him right away - the fingers felt fucking good, and when a third one was added, he groaned and tipped his head back. Apparently taking that at his cue, Brian withdrew his fingers and lined up his cock. Justin's back was arched pretty far away from the wall to make it work, but as Brian's cock inched inside and Brian kept staring at him, it was so fucking worth it.

After pausing for a moment, it didn't take them long to find their rhythm. They'd been doing this for what felt like forever now, and sometimes sex with Brian came to Justin easier than anything else - even art. But then maybe this was art as Brian hit his prostate, making him groan. Maybe this was the most creative thing he'd ever do.

Before long Justin started shaking, feeling like he was about to fly apart. Sometimes it was almost *too* visceral.

His right hand flew out, trying to find something to hold onto, something to ground him. His arm stretched above him, palm facing the wall; he ended up gripping onto the strip of wood around the door frame. He was barely clinging on, fingertips digging in, and Brian just kept fucking him.

They fucked for what seemed like forever, grunting and panting, rocking together, Justin's left arm wrapped around Brian's neck; Brian's hand around Justin's cock.

He felt it start then, felt the tingle in his balls, how they started to draw up. His right hand scrambled for purchase but there was nothing more to hold onto, and when his hand slipped Justin threw back his head and came.

Kind of dazed, he managed to wrap both arms around Brian and whispered dirty things in his ear until Brian shuddered, groaning, and filled the condom.

Both heaving for breath, they shared some small, post-coital kisses. Justin's back was starting to burn in protest so he nodded down to where they were joined and Brian got the message, holding on to the end of the condom and carefully pulling out. Unwrapping his legs, Justin let them slide down, sighing when the pressure was taken off his back. That wasn't a position he'd be able to fuck in when he got older.

Tying the condom off, Brian threw it into the small trash can by Justin's computer desk before moving back for another kiss. Closing his eyes, Justin returned it, sliding his hands into Brian's hair-

"Justi-OH!"

Fuck. "Mom!" Moving completely on instinct, Justin shoved Brian away and pulled up his cargo pants, zipping them up quickly. He waved frantically at Brian to do the same, but he needn't have worried - he was already buttoning his jeans up.

As for his Mom, she was now standing in the hallway with her back to the bedroom, her right hand up over her mouth.

Shit, if she'd come looking for him one minute earlier...

"Uh, Mom?" She wasn't even looking at him and he was blushing. This ranked right up there in the list of things you never ever wanted to happen.

"Sorry, sorry," she practically forced the words out, her hand moving away from her mouth. "I just needed to talk to you privately, and I thought you were alone. I thought...I would never have come up here if..."

"Sorry," he bit his lip, not entirely sure what he was apologising for. It wasn't like he and Brian weren't allowed to have sex. "But...you knew I was gay. That I had sex with-"

"There's a difference between knowing it and seeing it," she said haughtily and Justin flushed again. Yeah, she had a point. She might've become somewhat used to the idea, but seeing it in practice was a different thing altogether.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, meaning it this time. Glancing at Brian who was frowning heavily at Mom's back, he spoke again. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh," she faltered, "I..."

"Tell you what," Brian interrupted, "I'll get out of your hair." Shooting Justin an oops look that showed he wasn't bothered about getting caught at all, Brian stepped out of the room, carefully passing Mom without touching her.

Long after the sound of Brian's footsteps on the stairs had faded, Mom slowly turned around. "Well," she began awkwardly, "I can't say that's something I ever expected to see."

Scratching the back of his neck, Justin ducked his head. "Uh, yeah."

"But..." Taking a step into the room, she licked her lips. "Is he...good to you, honey?"

Lifting his head, Justin frowned. "Of course he's good to me. I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't."

"No. No, I mean...is he good to you...in bed? Is he a generous lover?"

Holy shit. He was so not having this conversation. "Mom!" He had to give her credit, though, for even bringing the subject up after what she'd just seen. Things'd changed a lot. He couldn't imagine her even asking that just a few months ago.

"Justin," she urged, "I just want to make sure. I know you love him and want to make him happy, but I know better than anyone that sacrificing your own needs-"

Wincing, Justin held his hands out in front of him. "If you tell me *anything* about your sex life with Dad, I will walk out of this room and never talk to you again. Look," he continued, especially eager to get away from that particular subject, "there's nothing to worry about. I promise. Brian is a very, very," extremely, unbelievably, "generous lover. Okay?" God, his life was weird. His mom had just caught them practically having sex and instead of complaining that they had sex at all, she just wanted to make sure that it was good.

Looking relieved, she nodded. "Okay."

Sighing, he lowered his hands. "What did you wanna talk about?" Please, God, nothing else about his sex life.

Expression falling, Mom looked incredibly sad for a few moments - like she had earlier - and then he could practically see her resolve kicking in, see how she was holding herself a little bit taller. "I...put the house on the market today."

Justin hadn't expected to hear that at *all*. "Our house? The house I grew up in?" She nodded. "You're selling the house? Why?"

Glancing off to one side, she started fiddling with her wedding ring. "I...we..." she sighed.

He had a bad feeling about where this was going. "Mom?"

Clearing her throat, she met his gaze. "Your father and I...we're getting a divorce."

He'd almost been expecting it, but that didn't stop his stunned sense of disbelief. "Divorce?" he stared at her.

She went on about how neither one of them were happy with each other anymore, how it wouldn't be right for them to lie to themselves and everyone else by staying together. That sometimes ending a relationship was the right thing to do, the best thing for everyone. "But that doesn't mean that we don't love you," she finished, pulling him into a hug. "We will always, always love you, Justin. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, okay," he said, too stunned to say anything else as he clung onto her. He had his doubts about Dad, but he knew Mom would always love him.

Shit. Divorced? He knew they'd been having problems, but that'd only really started after he'd come out. Maybe this whole thing was his fault...

"There's something else," she began again, pulling away but holding onto his forearms. "I think it's wonderful that you got in, sweetheart, but I had no idea you'd even applied to PIFA."

Yeah, he hadn't told anyone in his family about that one. "I didn't wanna tell you until I knew. They get over two thousand applications, but there's only seventy openings - and I got in!" His happiness at getting in flared up again, dispelling some of the bad news.

She smiled at him. "I always told you, you were gifted, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

She hesitated, her smile fading. "But what about Dartmouth?"

"Oh, I'll just write them and tell them that I'm not going." There was no way he could go to school there - it wasn't for him.

Pausing, Mom studied him. "Justin, your dad's expecting you to go."

"Because he went there?" He could never be that kind of businessman. "Besides, what does it matter anymore if you guys are getting a divorce?"

"Sweetheart," she pleaded, "he's still your father, and I just want what's best for you. I know how much you want to be an artist, but do you have any idea how hard it is to make a living?"

"Yeah," he nodded, knowing it wouldn't be easy, "but it's what I'm gonna do. What I've always wanted to do."

Mom sighed. "You'll have a hard time convincing him that."

He'd been hoping she might be able to convince Dad herself, but now that they were getting a divorce...shit. Shit! His entire good day was getting entirely fucked up. His parents were getting a divorce, and now he might not be able to go to PIFA. "I can't believe you told me this today," he complained, his anger building.

"Justin, I wasn't about to keep any secrets from you. If there's one thing I've learnt-"

"Couldn't you just let me be happy?" he demanded, pulling away from her. "Or maybe because you're not happy, no one else can be either."

"Justin!"

Couldn't believe this, couldn't believe this. He knew he was overreacting, but he really thought things were getting better.

This was supposed to be the best day of his life.

Pulling away from her, he stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. No one really noticed, too absorbed in their own conversations, but Brian saw him immediately, following when Justin headed to the back yard.

It was cold out, as it fucking always was, and Justin glared at his visible breath.

"What happened?" Brian asked, and it all came out.

Justin ranted about his parents getting divorced, and Mom talking about their sex life and oh, he wasn't going to PIFA now because his piece of shit father refused to pay for it.

Brian smacked him around the head and told him to stop being such a princess.

Then, grabbing Justin's hand, he led him back into the house.

By now the rest of the gang had realised something was up, and they were all staring at them as they made their way into the living room. Mom was downstairs too, now, and Brian walked right up to her.

"Mrs. Taylor?"

She looked startled, attention flitting between Brian and Justin. "Brian?"

"Look, it's obvious you care about Justin. It's not always easy for parents when their kids come out, but you've mostly been supportive. But you don't, you do *not* get to tell him," he pointed at Justin, "that he can't do what he's always dreamed of just because his father's a fucking asshole. Justin matters more than your beloved hubby," he lifted his chin up. "So he's going to the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts - even if I have to pay for it myself."

Justin barely had time to think another holy shit before Brian was tugging him through the living room and out the front door.