The show looked to be a success. Brian knew that Justin would make his mark in the art world. He had an amazing gift. This was the first time in quite a while that he and Steve had been to the opening of one of Justin's shows. The invitation had come only three days before, barely giving the men time to rearrange their schedules but they had managed. It was important to Brian to show his support for Justin's work. He turned to ask his partner a question, when he spotted the blond hair of his former lover.

"There's Justin. Shall we say hello?" Brian asked his partner of ten years.

"It would be the polite thing to do," Steve replied with a smile.

The couple crossed the room noticing for the first time a small blond boy next to the young artist. As they drew closer, they heard the toddler speak.

"Daddy, up."

"Hey, my little prince, are you tired?" Justin asked his son as he picked him up. The child rubbed his eyes as he shook his head ‘no' making his father chuckle and respond, "I think maybe you are."

"Justin?" Brian's voice held confusion at hearing the little boy's words.

Justin turned to find Brian and Steve standing a few feet away. His heart began pounding in his chest. He hugged his sleepy son a bit tighter. The little boy promptly laid his head on his daddy's shoulder.

"Brian, Steve," Justin replied politely yet obviously surprised. He should have looked at the guest list for this opening. He would need to speak with his manager to find out how this had happened. "What are you doing here?"

Brian stared at the little boy in his ex-lover's arms. He couldn't seem to form words as he gazed at the white blond hair and bright blue eyes. The boy was a miniature copy of Justin.

"We came to see your show," Steve answered for his obviously stunned partner. He wondered why Justin was surprised since they had received an invitation.

"You didn't have to make a special trip. I have a show in New York in two months. You could have seen my work then." Justin rubbed circles on his son's back.

"Justin?" Brian spoke softly, finally looking from the boy to his former lover; Justin hadn't aged a day.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude. This is my son Ryan. Ryan, this is Mr. Kinney and Mr. Brenner. That is unless there's been a name change," Justin said, making the introductions and asking, off-handedly, if the men had finally taken the big step like so many others in recent years.

"No, no name change," Brian replied quietly. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Can you say hi?" Justin asked his son.

"Hi," Ryan whispered shyly before popping his thumb in his mouth, causing the two men to smile and say ‘hi' to him.

Justin looked past them to see Daphne watching from a discreet distance. She made a hand gesture to let him know that she had called for the car.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to take my son back to our hotel. It's past his bedtime. It was nice to see you both. Enjoy the show." Justin walked away from the older men. He stopped and spoke to Daphne a moment then kissed her on the cheek before he headed out the door with his son.

After Justin left, Daphne approached the two men. "See anything you like?" she asked.

"Everything. Justin's work is exquisite," Brian replied. "He gets better every year."

"I'll be sure to let him know." Daphne turned to walk away, but stopped when Brian spoke again.

"Why didn't anyone tell us Justin has a son?"

Daphne turned back. She glanced around the room. "Let's get some coffee. I don't want to talk about Justin here." She turned and headed to the doors, Brian and Steve followed close behind.

They crossed the street to a small café. The trio passed several empty tables before taking a seat at one in the back. After the waitress took their orders and delivered their coffees, Daphne started to talk.

"Justin told me I could answer any questions you asked as long as you promise never to repeat anything I tell you to anyone."

Both men nodded in agreement.

"So, you want to know why no one told you about Ryan," Daphne stated. "That's simple. No one knows about him."

"Surely Jennifer and Molly know about him," Steve said.

"No, they don't and that's the way we want it. Understand?" Daphne said harshly.

"No, I don't understand. Why wouldn't Justin want his mother and Molly to know about his son? Jennifer has the right to know she's a grandmother; Molly has the right to know she has a nephew." Brian was confused, this didn't sound like the Justin he knew; family had always meant a great deal to Justin.

Daphne looked at the two men sitting across from her and realized they didn't know what had happened a few years ago. Both she and Justin had been certain that Molly would have talked to Steve about the events.

"You were both at Jennifer's and Molly's weddings, right?" she asked.

"Yes, but you know that since you were there, too. What has that got to do with anything?" Brian asked harshly.

"Brian, calm down," Steve said. He placed his hand on his partner's arm and looked across the table at the young woman. "I think I understand."

Brian looked at Steve who was looking at Daphne.

"Justin didn't know they had invited us, did he?" Steve asked.

"No." Daphne's voice held a touch of anger.

Brian was stunned. "I'll admit I was surprised when I received the invitation to Jennifer's wedding. I thought that maybe it was Justin's idea because I couldn't think of why Jennifer would want us there? What reason would they have for not telling him that we had been invited?"

"Jennifer wanted him to move on with his life. After the two of you broke up and he moved back to Pittsburgh, he didn't date, he didn't go out; all he did was go to school and work. She thought if he saw that the two of you were still together after four years, that he would start looking for someone new; someone to build a life with."

"But I remember there was someone with him at the wedding," Brian said remembering the dark haired young man whose name he couldn't recall.

"That was Eric. He was madly infatuated with Justin, but it never went beyond friendship."

"What about Molly's wedding?" Steve asked. He and Molly had become close friends since meeting at Jennifer's wedding where he found out Molly would be attending his alma mater.

"As a ‘fuck you' to Craig she asked Justin to walk her down the aisle. He was surprised. But before he agreed, he asked if she planned to invite the two of you; he knew that you and Molly were friends. She said it was going to be a small ceremony with only family and very close friends. Molly thought if Justin found out that you were coming to her wedding that he wouldn't show up." Daphne's eyes watered. "When he walked into the chapel with her and saw the two of you..."

Brian grabbed some napkins and handed them to the young woman seated across the table. Daphne nodded her thanks and dabbed the tears from her eyes.

"Justin was so hurt at being blindsided again that we left once the reception started. He hasn't spoken to his mother or Molly since. If she had only been honest with him, he could have prepared himself for seeing the two of you together."

"She told us that Justin only came for the wedding, that he had to go back home to prepare for a show." Steve felt disappointed in his young friend; finding out that she had lied not only to her brother but to them as well.

"There's something else you should know. He wasn't surprised that Molly didn't want Craig to walk her down the aisle. He was surprised that she didn't ask you." Daphne looked at Steve. "He not only lost the love of his life to you, but his family as well. Molly considers you more of a brother than she does Justin."

"You must be mistaken. That can't be true," Steve declared.

"Both Jennifer and Molly would talk about you whenever he was home for a visit. He had to listen to what great things you were doing from sponsoring some event for AIDS research, to setting up scholarships, and yes he knows about the ones at PIFA and Parsons. They made sure he knew about those. It just got to be too much for him to handle; Molly's wedding was the last straw. By the way, he knows about you paying for Molly's honeymoon. He found out about that when she cashed in the tickets for the Jamaican cruise he gave her as a wedding present.

"As for everyone else back home, they were doing the same thing, talking about how you had finally found your soulmate," she turned to Brian, "completely ignoring the fact that Justin had lost his. They would talk about your trips to Europe, how great your business is going, how you finally grew up and settled down. They never once considered how it made him feel. So he cut all ties with Pittsburgh and moved to Vermont. He won't even show his art anywhere in Pennsylvania. Now we're all the family he has left, Ryan and me. I spend as much time as I can with them. I wish I could do more."

"Fuck!" Brian growled. "I still don't understand why they would do this to him."

Daphne looked at her coffee, unsure if she should say anything more then decided what the hell, Justin said she could answer any question. She would tell him everything later anyway; once he was over the shock of seeing the two men.

"You want my opinion?" she asked.

Brian nodded.

"Let's start with Jennifer. When Justin came home after you left him, he found out that his mom was dating someone... a much younger someone. He was a teacher at Molly's school. Justin confronted her, called her a hypocrite because her biggest problem with him being with you was that you're twelve years older. And here Jennifer was dating a man that was only three years older than Justin."

"Holy shit," Brian whispered.

"The relationship didn't last much more than a year. He met someone else and they split up. A few months later she met George and as you know they eventually married."

"What's your theory about Molly?" Steve asked.

"When Justin first came out to his parents, Molly was pushed into the background for a while. Once Justin was out of the house, she had all their attention, especially Craig's. He spoiled her until Jennifer divorced him. Craig told Molly that he couldn't afford to buy her things anymore or spend time with her because he had to work more to pay Justin's tuition."

"What?!" Brian yelled.

"Calm down, Brian." Steve grabbed his partner's arm to prevent him from getting up to pace around the café.

"Calm down? Why the fuck should I calm down? That bastard..."

"Brian!" Daphne nearly shouted to get the man's attention. Both men turned.

"Let me finish. Justin found out, after he graduated, what Craig had told Molly. He told her it was a lie; that you paid for his tuition, but Molly wouldn't believe him. It took Jennifer confirming it to convince her. Molly confronted Craig with the truth and in an attempt to get back in her good graces he agreed to pay her tuition to anywhere she wanted to go. But by then the damage had already been done. For too long Molly believed that if Justin had gone to Dartmouth like Craig wanted and stayed in the closet, at least until after he graduated, then everything would have been alright."

"She can't honestly believe that," Steve said.

"Molly's dropped enough hints to confirm it for me." Daphne sat back and took a sip of her coffee.

Brian rubbed a hand over his face, trying to calm down. "Do you have theories for the others as well?"

"Michael never got over his jealousy of Justin, but I think the main reason was the end of ‘Rage'."

"When Justin decided not to work on the comic anymore, he should have sold his half to Michael. That would have ended any problem," Brian stated.

Daphne laughed, truly thankful that she had already swallowed her coffee. "Is that what Michael told you; that Justin didn't want to work on ‘Rage' anymore?"

"I never heard anything different. I tried to talk to Justin about it but he would never return my calls."

"Fuck, that's probably what the little bastard told everyone. That would certainly explain why Debbie was pissed off at Justin. Brian, Justin wanted to continue with the comic; he wanted the money to pay you back for the tuition. But the only storylines that Michael would come up with were JT dies or he's bashed and left in a coma that Rage couldn't cure leaving Zephyr to comfort Rage and then Rage falls in love with Zephyr. Or, what he called his ‘life imitates art,' storylines with Rage dumping JT when he finds his true love, or JT dumps Rage for a musician and Rage turns to Zephyr for comfort. I was there when Michael called with the last two. Justin was painting so he put the call on the speakerphone. And Michael knows I heard him, because he hung up about five seconds after I started tearing into his ass."

"Why the hell didn't Justin call me; I would have talked to Michael."

"Put yourself in Justin's place for once, Brian. You have no idea what he went through losing you," Daphne said harshly.

"I do know what he went through; I went through the same thing," Brian said solemnly. He stared Daphne in the eye refusing to back down.

"When?"

Brian tipped his head and raised an eyebrow.

"You mean Ethan? That was nothing like what Justin went through. Brian, you pushed Justin to Ethan. All you had to say to him was ‘stay' but instead you told him you wouldn't love him, not that you couldn't love him but that you wouldn't. When did Justin ever say something like that to you?"

Brian didn't have a response to that.

"And how often did you walk in on Justin fucking a trick in the bed you shared? How often did Justin ‘schedule you in' for a fuck between tricks?"

Steve watched the pair spar back and forth before he said, "Can we get back to the discussion and leave this one for another time?"

Daphne sighed and sat back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She nodded in agreement as she continued to look at Brian who also nodded in agreement.

"Okay, you've explained Michael and Debbie. What about the others?" Brian asked.

"Vic passed away not long after Justin returned. He was the only one that never talked about you in front of him. Justin stopped attending the family dinners, he never went out, so he rarely if ever saw Emmett or Ted."

"Has anything else happened that Brian hasn't been told about?" Steve asked quietly.

"Did you know that Lindsay told Justin not to see Gus anymore?"

Brian choked on his coffee.

"I'll take that as a no." Daphne arched an eyebrow as she watched Brian's reaction.

Brian coughed several times before catching his breath.

"She told Justin since the two of you were no longer together that it would be confusing to Gus if he continued spending so much time with Justin. We never found out the real reason she didn't want him around your son."

The three of them sat quietly for a few minutes.

"I have a question for you if you don't mind?" Daphne said.

"Okay," Brian responded.

"How did you get into the gallery tonight?"

"We received an invitation; I assumed Justin sent it," Brian answered as he pulled the envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

Daphne looked it over carefully. It was slightly different than the others she had seen; the script was a touch more elegant and the blue was lighter. She handed it back, her brow furrowed in thought.

"What is it?" Brian asked.

"I'm not sure what's going on, but tonight was by invitation only. I saw the guest list and your names were not on it... and your invitation is slightly different."

"Who makes the guest list?" Steve asked.

"Justin's manager, Margaret Hawthorne."

"Would she still be at the gallery?" Brian asked.

"I'm sure she is."

The three stood, all of them still a bit edgy from their conversation. Brian dropped enough money on the table to cover their drinks and leave a nice tip; then they made their way back to the gallery.

Margaret Hawthorne was easy to find despite her diminutive stature and at sixty-five years of age she didn't look a day over fifty. Her flaming red hair would put all of Debbie Novotny's wigs to shame. She was explaining to a potential buyer that the painting he found in the catalog wasn't in the gallery because it was not for sale. She handed him a card with instructions to call her on Monday to discuss commissioning a painting. The man walked away disappointed but not angry.

"Margaret, may we speak with you a minute?" Daphne asked as they approached.

"Dear Daphne, of course you may." Margaret smiled up at the young woman who towered over her.

"Margaret, this is Mr. Kinney and Mr. Brenner." Daphne introduced the woman to the men standing with them.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your names being on the guest list." Margaret eyed the two men suspiciously as she shook each hand; she of course knew who they were to Justin. "Did you come as someone's guest?"

"I assure you we are not opening night crashers. We did receive an invitation. It arrived three days ago by priority mail." Brian once again removed the invitation from his pocket; he handed it to the older woman.

Margaret carefully examined the invitation, forehead furrowed as she shook her head.

"This is wrong. The blue is too light and this print... this isn't the print that Justin chose. When did you say you received this?"

"Three days ago. Why?" Brian asked.

"The invitations were mailed two weeks ago," Margaret said.

"We live in New York, and as Brian said, it arrived by priority mail," Steve commented.

Daphne's cell phone began playing ‘Vincent'. She immediately flipped it open and stepped a few feet away.

"Justin? ... Where's Ryan? ... I'll be right there. I'll catch a cab. ... Okay, bye." Daphne grimaced and closed her phone.

"Migraine," Margaret stated.

"Yes, Ryan's asleep, but you know Justin won't take his meds unless someone else is there in case Ryan wakes up."

"He's already to the point of throwing up, isn't he?" Daphne nodded. "He should have called sooner." Margaret shook her head.

The women started towards the exit; the two men followed.

"Justin knew I would be there as soon as I could. This just took longer than we both thought."

"You go take care of our young man and that beautiful son of his. I'll see if I can find out who sent these gentlemen their invitation."

"I'll call as soon as I get him to sleep." Daphne kissed Margaret on the cheek and walked outside to wait for the car. Brian and Steve followed her.

Daphne looked up, surprised to see them still with her.

"I don't want you waiting for a cab alone." Brian rolled his lips in his mouth.

"Justin sent the driver; he should be here any minute."

"So, I guess that you're not Ryan's mother?" Brian asked. He always knew that Justin wanted kids and had thought that Justin and Daphne would follow the same course he had with Lindsay.

"When Justin felt the time was right for him, it just wasn't right for me. So we went to an agency and found an anonymous egg donor as well as a surrogate. They both signed away any rights before the insemination. Ryan Shea Taylor turned three last month."

"He's a beautiful little boy," Brian said sincerely.

"Yes, he is and he's the most important person in Justin's life... and mine."

A black sedan was slowly pulling to a stop in front of them. Daphne stepped forward as the driver jumped out to open the door for her. She turned back to the two men.

"Please remember to keep your promise." Both Brian and Steve assured her they would. "Thank you. It was nice seeing you again." She turned back to the car.

"Daphne," Brian called out causing the young woman to turn back. "Would you please let me know, from time to time, how they're doing, how you're all doing?"

Daphne shook her head at the older man. "No. We aren't a part of your world anymore, Brian. For us, that world ended when you shattered Justin's heart and broke his soul."

Daphne stepped into the back of the car. The driver shut the door and quickly returned to his place behind the wheel.

Brian and Steve watched as the taillights disappeared into the night.

~*~*~*~

When Daphne entered the hotel suite she quickly locked the door, kicked off her shoes and hurried to Justin's room. She heard a muffled moan and the rustling of sheets. As she reached the bedroom doorway she heard Justin dry heaving in the darkened bathroom. She spotted Ryan sleeping soundly, snuggled up with his bear in the middle of the king sized bed on the opposite side of the room then made her way to the bathroom to help Justin.

Daphne grabbed a washcloth from the shelf as she entered, thankful that the nightlight Justin carried with him for Ryan provided enough illumination that she could see without difficulty. She found Justin sitting on the floor in front of the toilet wearing white boxer briefs and a gray t-shirt. She soaked the cloth thoroughly with cold water, wrung out the excess, then placed it on the back of Justin's neck.

"Thanks," came Justin's muffled voice. He moaned again.

"No problem. Will you be okay while I go get your meds?" Daphne whispered. She knew anything louder would be painful for her best friend.

Justin started to respond only to end up dry heaving again. Once that passed he mumbled ‘Sure' and made a slight wave with his hand.

Daphne retrieved a bottle of water from the mini-fridge before rummaging through Justin's travel kit for his meds. She quietly returned to the bathroom with a quick glance at Ryan, who hadn't moved.

Justin looked up from his position on the floor where he now leaned against the shower door next to the toilet. Daphne twisted the top off the bottle of water and handed it to Justin. He rinsed his mouth then placed the cold bottle against his forehead as he waited for Daphne to open the pill bottle. She dropped two tablets in his hand. Justin looked at her but she nodded.

"You know you can take two when the pain is this bad. I'll be here to take care of Ryan."

Justin knew Daphne would never desert him and Ryan for any reason; he simply hated that taking one pill knocked him out for about four or five hours. Taking two pills would put him out for at least half a day. Factor in the emotional exhaustion of the evening and he would most likely be out even longer. Regretfully he tossed the tablets in his mouth and washed them down with a few swallows of water.

Daphne took the bottle from Justin's shaking hand and set it on the counter. She sat on the floor beside him uncaring of the expensive dark blue cocktail dress she still wore. Justin's head found a resting place on her shoulder and she gently leaned her head against his while they waited for the pills to start to take effect. Once they started to kick in she would help him to bed.

~*~*~*~

Brian and Steve returned to the gallery once the sedan carrying Daphne to Justin and his son had disappeared. They had only seen about half of Justin's work before fate had stepped in. Neither of them spoke as they studied the paintings.

Brian was silently replaying the conversation with Daphne through his mind. Her last sentence kept repeating over and over again when a thought occurred to him. He stopped walking as he voiced his thoughts to his older lover.

"I should have known something was wrong with the invitation when it arrived."

"How could you know something was wrong with it?" Steve stopped and turned to face Brian.

"It was addressed to me... only me."

"I don't understand." Steve's brow furrowed in confusion.

"When Justin sent an invitation before, it was addressed to both of us. This time it was addressed solely to me."

"Okay." Steve shrugged.

"And when was the last time we received an invitation to one of Justin's openings?" Brian asked.

"Well... it has been several years, but..."

"Four years. The last opening that Justin sent us an invitation to, was four years ago. It was addressed to both of us."

"Are you certain it was four years ago?" Steve asked wondering how Brian could remember that.

"It was his first solo showing in New York. It was also the day he paid off the loan I gave him for his tuition. Remember, we were on our way out and we stopped to congratulate him on his show... he handed me an envelope, the thank you card with the check inside for the final payment." His voice trailed off at the end. Another thought occurred to him, one that he would keep to himself - at the time Justin paid off the loan, the surrogate would have already been pregnant. It hurt to know that Justin had not wanted to share the news that he was going to be a father.

"That's right and two weeks later the painting arrived... the one you couldn't stop staring at that night." Steve thought back to Brian's fascination with the painting.

Brian thought of the painting that hung in his study at the condo. The painting was one of Justin's more extreme abstracts titled ‘Unessential' and it had taken Brian no time at all to figure it out. The entire painting was a mass of swirling colors. But on one side two swirls were entwined, one slightly larger than the other. In the center were two more swirls, roughly the same size; again the swirls were entwined. On the edge farthest from the first two swirls was a partial image of the smaller swirl, shown as if moving out of the painting. It was Justin's way of saying he was out of Brian's life for good. As far as Brian knew, Steve never had figured out the meaning of the painting.

"And we both know that Justin has participated in several gallery showings since then. Yet we never received an invitation to even one of those showings, not the group showings or the two solo showings."

"I'm glad to see you gentlemen are still here." Margaret Hawthorne's gentle voice interrupted their conversation.

"Ms. Hawthorne, were you able to find out who sent the invitation?" Brian asked.

"I believe I have. My assistant is looking for him." She turned and saw the man in question approaching. "Here he comes now."

A gentleman in his early fifties walked up to them.

"Margaret, I understand you were looking for me. How may I be of assistance?" Mr. Carlyle had only glanced at the two men standing with Justin's manager. He made one more perusal of the two before he recognized the younger man. "Mr. Kinney! I'm so glad you were able to make it on such short notice." The man extended his hand in greeting.

Brian looked the man over but couldn't recall meeting him before. "I'm sorry, have we met?" Brian asked as they shook hands.

"Only for a moment during Justin's second semester at PIFA. I was speaking with him one afternoon when you arrived to pick him up. It was snowing quite heavily if I recall." The man smiled. "I'm James Carlyle. Justin was in my art history class."

"I remember." Brian smiled briefly as he thought of that day. He had picked Justin up because of the blizzard that was moving in and the two of them had spent the remainder of the day watching old movies. Justin had surprised him by making Debbie's chicken parmesan for dinner; Brian never knew that the ingredients were in his kitchen.

"You remember Brian from just that brief meeting?" Steve asked.

"Yes, my wife had learned through a friend that Justin's father had refused to pay his tuition. I was telling him about some scholarships that he could apply for but he told me that someone had loaned him the money. When I found out it was Mr. Kinney, I was surprised to discover that such a young man was financially able to help Justin. You must have become successful at quite an early age."

"Yes. I guess it's safe to assume that you sent the invitation?" Brian deflected the conversation away from himself.

"Yes. When I noticed that your name wasn't on the list, I assumed it was just an oversight. Was I wrong?" Mr. Carlyle asked, finally feeling the slight tension coming from the trio.

"Justin and I went our separate ways a few years back," Brian responded. "We haven't spoken since."

"Oh, I do apologize. I didn't know. It's just that I remember the way he smiled that day you came to the Institute. I thought Justin would want you to be here if at all possible." Mr. Carlyle looked at the man next to Brian. He realized too late that this man, who appeared to be the same age as he, was most likely more than Brian's friend.

Margaret spoke up. "You should have spoken with me before sending the invitation."

"You're right, of course. I should have asked why Mr. Kinney's name was missing from the list. I apologize, gentlemen, if it has caused any problems. Margaret, I'll find Justin and apologize to him immediately as well."

"He wasn't feeling well and has already left for the evening. Perhaps you can speak with him tomorrow," Margaret said.

"Yes, of course. Again, my apologies." Mr. Carlyle turned and walked away.

"Well, at least I can explain to Justin what happened." Margaret shook her head sadly.

Brian leaned over and whispered into Steve's ear, asking for a moment to speak to the woman alone. Steve agreed with a slight nod and walked to a section of the exhibit they had not yet seen. Brian turned to Margaret.

"Would you mind if I talked to him; explain what happened?" Brian asked.

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea, Mr. Kinney. You must realize from what Daphne said that seeing you with your partner is the cause of his current condition."

"I need to talk to him, try to get him back with his family," Brian reasoned.

"Why?" Margaret asked, frowning at the younger man.

"I know Justin. Family always meant a lot to him."

"He has a family."

"I realize that he has his son and Daphne, and I'm guessing he considers you family, too. But, despite what happened in the past, he also has a mother, a sister, a surrogate mother, friends who..."

Margaret interrupted him. "Do you honestly believe they have treated Justin like family, Mr. Kinney? Do you consider their actions the same as they do?"

"What do you mean?" Brian asked confused.

She linked her arm through Brian's and turned him to walk in the direction Steve had taken only a moment before. "They consider what they did, telling him all about you and your partner, to be ‘tough love', an attempt to get Justin to forget about you; to give up the hope of ever having a life with you."

"I'm sure at the time he might have thought there was a chance that we would get back together," Brian commented not really intending to defend their actions. He looked up and saw Steve rubbing his hand across his mouth, staring at a painting. Steve turned at the sound of the approaching pair. Brian thought he saw pain in his lover's eyes. When they stopped next to Steve, she released Brian's arm.

"Mr. Kinney, Justin gave up any hope of ever having a life with you ten years ago."

Brian looked from Steve to Margaret. She was looking past him to the painting that Steve had been looking at. He turned - his breath caught in his throat.

"As you can see, you never forget your one true love; not even when they don't love you. It's how you remember them that matters most."

On the wall hung a painting titled ‘Unforgettable;' a life-size painting of two men embracing, their faces hidden by their kiss, painted in shades of black and white. The area surrounding the couple was vibrant with colorful dry good items on shelves, a box of wine to one side. Anyone who knew the truth would know it was Brian and Steve in the kitchen pantry of the townhouse that Justin had, for eight short months, called home with Brian.

"Tell me, Mr. Kinney, in four more years Gus will be the same age Justin was when he met you. If your son finds his one true love only to have the man, or woman, refuse to love him... will you follow your family's example and continuously shove it in your son's face under the guise of helping him?"

Brian turned so quickly he nearly bumped into the woman speaking to him. "How do you know Gus?" Brian demanded in a low voice.

"Lindsay has tried for several years now to talk me into convincing Justin to have a show at the Bloom Gallery in Pittsburgh. She told me all about Gus' relationship with Justin in her latest attempt."

"She's using Gus?" Brian snarled. He couldn't believe that Lindsay would do that.

"She tried. The last time was nearly a year ago. She contacted me about exhibiting Justin's work. When I told her it wouldn't happen she took a different approach. She told me Justin was like a younger brother, who had cut himself off from everyone else over a slight misunderstanding. She said the rest of the ‘family,' as she called them, especially her son Gus, would love to see Justin's work exhibited. I told her that Justin wanted nothing to do with Pittsburgh or the ‘family.' She said she knew differently and that Justin would want to see Gus because Justin had been ‘almost like a father' to him. I said if she thought that were true, then why did she ask Justin to stop visiting the child. She stammered for a moment before saying that she did no such thing and that she couldn't believe Justin would say something like that."

"Justin would never lie about Gus. He loves Gus," Brian said.

"Justin isn't the one who told me." Margaret looked up at Brian.

"Who did?" Steve asked, finally pulling his attention away from the painting and entering into the conversation.

Margaret smiled ruefully at him and said, "Gus."

A few art patrons were approaching the area where the three were talking. Margaret noticed them and began to move away, not wanting anyone else to overhear their conversation.

"What did Gus tell you? When did you meet him?" Brian asked; his anger at Lindsay was building.

"When Ryan was born, Justin took some time off. He continued to create but wasn't taking any offers to exhibit his work. During that time the Bloom Gallery was exhibiting the work of a dear friend of mine so I decided to pay a visit. While I was walking through the gallery, I spotted one of Justin's pieces. Sydney had purchased it at Justin's previous show, a sort of ‘hometown boy makes it big' type of thing. There was a young boy sitting in front of the painting; he had a sketchpad in his lap and was doing a fairly good job trying to duplicate the work. We struck up a conversation and he told me that he used to know the artist when he was very young; they would go to the park together, see a movie, or just simply play together. Sometimes they would go to Justin's studio and spend an afternoon painting. He said Justin didn't care if he got more paint on him than on his canvas."

"They always did get along well. Justin was probably more a father figure to Gus than I was at the time." Brian smiled slightly.

"I asked the boy why he didn't see Justin anymore. He said when he was about five, he heard his mothers talking about how Justin only came to see him because of Brian."

"Shit," Brian softly muttered.

"He looked so sad when he said it, so I asked him who Brian was. He smiled and said ‘my dad.' I asked if he really believed Justin only spent time with him because of his dad. He said he didn't think so, but his mothers wouldn't lie to him. Then he said he wasn't really sure, because he remembered hearing his mom tell Justin that he shouldn't come back, that Justin being there was wrong. It wasn't long after, they told him that Justin had moved away and wouldn't be coming back. He told me that Justin never came to see him again; he never got to say goodbye." She shook her head. "Lindsay walked up at that moment. That's how I knew for certain who the boy was. Gus resumed his drawing and I left the gallery a short time later without speaking to the child again."

"You never told Justin?" Steve asked.

"No. They had hurt him enough already. Justin never knew the real reason he was asked to stay away; he doesn't need to know that Lindsay thought so little of him to believe that he would use Gus that way. And now he has all the family he needs. His son is his life; more so than his art or anyone else could ever be."

"How has Justin managed to keep his son a secret? Surely someone with the press will mention him in their article?" Brian asked, concerned that Justin's wish to keep his son's existence unknown would come crashing down.

Margaret smiled ruefully again. "Do you see any members of the press here, Mr. Kinney?"

Brian and Steve both looked around the gallery. They noticed for the first time that, not only were there no reporters or art critics, but there weren't very many people in the gallery. However, there were a few children of varying ages. Brian turned to Margaret.

"How did you manage to keep the press away?"

"The official opening is tomorrow night. This is a private showing for the more serious art patrons in the area... they can bring their children without the worry of cameras flashing all around them. It also allows Justin to share this with Daphne and Ryan. Daphne stays at the hotel with Ryan on opening night when she travels with them. When she isn't able to travel, my assistant stays with Ryan."

Once again people were beginning to drift toward them.

"Well, gentlemen, please enjoy the show." Margaret turned to leave.

"Wait, the painting, ‘Unforgettable'," Steve said.

"What about it?" Margaret asked with a touch of suspicion.

"I noticed a sticker on the card. Has it been sold?" Steve asked.

"No, it hasn't," Margaret answered.

"I'd like to buy it," Brian spoke quickly.

"It is *not* for sale, Mr. Kinney. It's from Justin's private collection and very rarely is it included in a show. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I must return to my duties as Justin's agent and mingle with the guests."

Brian and Steve watched the petite woman walk away. They completed their tour of the gallery in silence and returned to the hotel penthouse. Both men were unaware that Justin, Daphne and Ryan were only two floors below.

~*~*~*~

It was mid-afternoon when Justin opened the door, expecting a three-year-old to jump into his arms. Daphne had taken Ryan to the indoor pool an hour earlier. Instead he found Brian standing before him.

"Hey," Brian said.

"How did you find me?" Justin asked confused.

"Actually we're staying in this same hotel. I saw Daphne in the lobby earlier and told the desk clerk that I would like to send something to your suite. Since we frequent this hotel quite often, there was no problem in getting your room number."

"Of course. Money will always talk." Justin leaned against the doorjamb, blocking the view into the suite.

Brian could see tension lines around Justin's eyes. "You still have a headache?"

"What do you want, Brian?" Justin asked, ignoring the other man's question.

"I just wanted to talk to you about last night... explain how I ended up receiving an invitation."

"Don't worry about it. I'll just be sure to check all the lists from now on. Thanks for stopping by." Justin tried to close the door but Brian placed his hand on the door to prevent it from closing.

"Justin, wait; can we talk? We used to be friends."

The flash of surprise on Justin's face confused Brian, but the younger man opened the door and stepped aside, allowing the older man to enter. The two men walked into the living area of the large suite.

"When?" Justin asked.

"What?" Brian responded as he glanced around the large room. It looked and felt more like a home than a hotel suite. He heard soft jazz playing low, something he would never have associated with the man he knew years ago. He noticed a few toys on one of the tables and wondered silently if Ryan was somewhere in the suite. He would like to see the toddler again.

"You said we used to be friends." Justin interrupted Brian's thoughts.

"Justin..." Brian turned and looked at his former lover. "We were more than just lovers."

Justin smirked despite the increased pain of his headache. "We were fuck buddies, Brian; nothing more."

"I like to think we were more than that." Brian frowned slightly.

"So, you're saying you fuck your friends now? Michael must have been ecstatic to finally get what he's always wanted, unless you kept it to one and done." Justin prodded Brian simply to get a reaction out of the older man.

"Jesus, Justin! You know me better than that." Brian huffed a harsh breath.

"Well, if not Michael, then which one of your other friends have you fucked? Ted? Emmett? Someone I never met?"

Brian ignored Justin's questions and asked one of his own. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Justin looked with disbelief at Brian. "That's none of your business."

"So, you're not seeing anyone."

"No, but like I said, it's none of your business." Justin was beginning to get angry, which would only fuel his headache.

"Has there been anyone... since we split?"

Justin released a harsh laugh at Brian's choice of words. "No. I don't have any need or desire for a relationship. If I want someone to fuck... well, that's what quoins are for."

"You don't need a fucking hustler, Justin. You need someone in your life, a partner," Brian said firmly.

"Excuse me?" Justin was amazed at the audacity that Brian was showing.

"Justin... you are the most loving, most giving person I have ever known."

"Then you need to meet some more people," Justin said calmly without sarcasm or wit.

"I don't understand, Justin. You were always a fighter. The homophobic pricks in your school, the school administration, your father, my own nephew. You even fought to be with me. What happened?"

"What did I get for all my fighting, Brian? Was the Gay/Straight Alliance formed? No. Did the bullies leave me alone? No. We both know what happened there, don't we? Did my father change his mind and accept me? No, he turned his back on me; he disowned me. Your nephew? All I did was just make sure the truth was known. And as for fighting for you... I would have done anything for you... in fact, I did do anything for you... and all I ended up with was a fuck buddy who fit me in his schedule whenever he saw fit. Somehow I don't think there's much left in life worth fighting for anymore, except my son."

Brian wasn't sure how to respond to this Justin, he was nothing like the young man he remembered and loved.

"Why all the concern, Brian? Why do you care if I have a partner or not?"

"That's what you always wanted, someone to share things with, someone to talk to, wake up with each morning and go to sleep with each night."

Justin blew out a soft breath. "I thought I had that at one time, someone to talk to, share my accomplishments with, share his accomplishments, make everything worth doing, worth trying. But I was just fooling myself. He was in love with someone else, continued to see his lover everyday, until the man left the country for a few months. Only somehow those few months only lasted six short weeks."

"Justin..." Brian sighed and ran one hand through his hair.

"Do you remember what you said to me the first time you fucked me?" He watched Brian and knew the man didn't remember. "Of course you don't. Why would you remember something you said to someone you never wanted, or expected, to see again?" Justin raised his chin. "You told me that no matter who I was ever with that you would always be there."

"I do remember saying that," Brian admitted.

"Well, congratulations; it worked. Now, I know that, to you, I'll always be that little seventeen-year-old twink who needs to be protected, but despite what you may think, you don't have any right to tell me how to run my life. If you want to play superhero, if you need someone to protect, there's always Michael." Justin turned and walked to the door. "Go home to your husband, Brian."

"We're not married, Justin," Brian stated emphatically, surprising himself more than Justin.

"Right." Justin smirked.

"We're not," Brian repeated.

"Are you still tricking?" Justin asked.

Brian shook his head ‘no.'

"When did you stop?" Justin asked, although he knew the answer.

"Justin..."

"Any one-night stands?"

"No."

"Just because you don't wear a ring and haven't stood in front of a judge or a minister and exchanged vows, doesn't make you any less married than if you did." Justin opened the door. "Goodbye, Brian."

Brian wanted to argue but couldn't think of anything to say. He crossed the room and stopped next to Justin at the open doorway. He raised his hand to touch Justin's face. To his amazement, Justin jerked away. Brian dropped his hand back to his side. He stepped into the hallway and sighed as the door closed softly behind him.