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Brian drank about half the shake and Justin finished the rest. Justin stood up to stretch when he was startled by a knock on the door.

"Now who the hell is here? It's fucking Saturday afternoon. Everyone we know is at the gym or working," Brian commented as he tried to look around Justin. He leaned forward in bed trying to glimpse the doorway and saw Jose. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you for a few months," Brian commented.

"Hi, Brian. Hi, Justin," he greeted the men. "Justin came by earlier and asked if you could use crutches to get around instead of a wheelchair. I checked with Dr. Stearn and he okayed it. I'm here to teach you to walk correctly on crutches. What do you say, Brian, ready for some therapy?"

Brian laughed. "I never thought I would say ‘yes' to that question, but, yes, I'm ready. Lead on, McDuff."

Justin watched as Jose easily got Brian and his cast out of bed. He followed them to the therapy room where he watched Brian struggle with his new crutches. As always, Brian quickly picked up the new skill.

"I feel pretty confident that you can use crutches instead of the wheelchair, Brian. Keep in mind, you can't put any weight on that leg for at least a week," Jose directed.

"I don't need that stinking wheelchair," Brian announced to the room.

"Don't be so quick to get rid of it, Brian. Crutches are really hard on your muscles and you are still weak. You may find that using the chair will be a welcome respite, especially for longer trips."

"Not going to happen," Brian declared. "Come on, Justin, let's go back to my room. Thanks for everything, Jose."

Justin followed Brian back to his room and watched as Brian got in bed by himself.

"Wow, that's great Brian! I was really starting to worry how you were going to get in the loft. I can't exactly carry you."

"Remember, nothing can keep Brian Kinney down." Brian leaned back on the pillows and rubbed his forearms, but didn't say a word regarding the pain now radiating up and down their lengths.
"Brian, why don't you rest? You look tired," Justin urged.

"I hate this shit! Eight fucking weeks with this mother fucker on my leg," Brian said, exasperated.

"Look on the bright side, Brian. You get to go home in two days." Justin went to the window and pulled the blinds closed. "Rest, okay? I promise to make it worth your while." Justin grinned as he ran his eyes over Brian's body.

"Twat. Is sex all you think about?" Brian teased.

"Nah, I do have the occasional thought about food or sleep," Justin joked. "Seriously...get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay. I'll rest, but when I get back to the loft, it's back to work for me."

Justin turned out the light and went to the gift shop and bought a copy of <U>People</U>. He went to the cafeteria to read the magazine, preferring the people there than in the visitor's lounge. He attempted to read the magazine, but as usual he was drawn to watch the people sitting by themselves or in small groups dealing with their personal lives. Seeing the dried tears of some and hearing the laughter from others, he made up stories regarding the patients they were here to visit. He flipped through the majority of the magazine, wondering what possessed Emmett to be so obsessed with celebrities. He grabbed his cigarettes from his pocket and went to the atrium to smoke.

He pulled out his lighter and a cigarette and stopped. I promised Brian not to smoke in front of him, since it reminds him what he can't have. In two days, he gets out of here and goes home. What will that mean? Will he start smoking and drinking just like he did before? What about Babylon...will he stop drinking there? Too many ‘what ifs' for me to think about right now. I guess maybe I'm not as ready for this as I thought.
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"So Brian, you finally heard what I was telling you," Vic remarked as he walked into the room.

"Shit, you're here again. I thought you'd left," Brian groaned.

"Most of my job here is done. You're finally letting Justin make up his own mind regarding what he wants to do with his life."

"What the fuck do you mean "Most of your job'? Am I an assignment now?"

"Not exactly, but you are my concern," Vic responded.

"Talk in fucking English. My brain is too tired for riddles."

Vic pulled the chair next to Brian's bed and looked around the room before talking. "You finally told him that you want him here, with you. Good! You're learning. But, have you thought about the booze and the drugs, all of your methods of pain management?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Vic? I haven't drank, smoked, or got high since arriving in this hellhole."

"Exactly. And in two days, you go home. Where, I might add- your stash, and all the liquor you could drink for at least a week lives," Vic explained.

"And your point being?" Brian answered snidely.

"No one will be watching you anymore, Brian. What are you going to do?"

"English please," Brian stated again.

"Are you going to drink and use as soon as you walk in the door? Plain enough for you?" Vic answered.

"The first thing I'm going to do is pin Justin to the mattress and fuck his brains out!" Brian shouted.

"Don't think so. Take a look at your leg. Cast...broken bone."

"Shit. Okay, he'll give me a blow job," Brian chimed in.

"Glad to know that Brian Kinney still thinks sex will solve all the world's problems ....and all of his," Vic laughed at Brian's answer. "What about the booze and the drugs?"

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not giving it up, if that's what you're asking."

"Are you going to talk to someone?" Vic asked pointedly.

"Hell, no! I don't have a problem, Vic, so why the fuck do I need to talk to someone?" Brian yelled vehemently.

"Think about it, Brian. It's your life, and I might not be able to help next time."

"What the fuck do you mean- you might not be able to help?" Brian challenged Vic.

"I've got to go, Brian. See you around."

"Vic, wait!" Brian cried, but he was gone. Brian tossed and turned as he slept for another half hour.

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Justin went back upstairs, and for the first time since he returned to Pittsburgh, he was uncertain of his place. Maybe I moved too fast. I should have talked to Brian about coming back. He's just saying he wants me here because he needs help...maybe I should go back to New York. Maybe...maybe... fuck this shit! I want to be here in Pittsburgh, and I want Brian, and it is time for me to finally get what I want, or at least give it a good try, dammit!

He got off the elevator, and walked directly into Brian's room just as Brian was waking up.

"Feel better? You were really tired," Justin asked.

Brian stretched, feeling his toes tingle at the movement. "I guess. Twenty-first century medicine needs to find a better way to fix broken bones. I can't believe that they haven't progressed farther than this in the last 100 years," Brian observed.

"Look at the upside. You have me at your beck and call for the next eight weeks. ‘Justin, get me a bottle of water, Justin, make me a sandwich. Justin, give me a blow job," Justin reminded him.

"That would be great, if you and I were just playing a game. Hmm, ‘Slaveboy and Sexy Master' sounds like fun; maybe we can re-enact that one when I get out of ‘Chez Allegheny.' But unfortunately, this is no game. This is reality and it sucks big time." Brian took a deep breath, just short of sighing.

"True, but I'll try to make it bearable, I promise. Do you want anything right now?"

"A blow job," Brian responded, tongue in cheek.

"Duh... Let's talk about something you realistically want."

"Why Justin, it is very realistic. You've given me several blow jobs while I've been laid up. You should have seen the look on Mikey's face when I told him you blew me here. It was priceless." Brian's body shook from his laughter.

"Oh, I can just see it. He probably turned red and his mouth hung open like a fish. Wish I was here to see it." Justin looked at the clock. "It's almost time for dinner. Want me to get you something, or are you up for the fine cuisine they will serve you?"

"I don't need any more food- I'm still pretty full from the sandwich earlier. If I gain too much weight, I'll never be able to get up the stairs at the loft."

Justin sat down in the chair that he pulled close to the bed. Leaning over, he gave Brian a swift kiss on the lips. "Do you think you can use crutches to get into the loft?"

"I knew it was too good to be true," Brian said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know you're dying to talk about me going home. So talk."

Justin reached his hand out to hold Brian's hand and Brian allowed the connection, gently squeezing Justin's hand. "I think I should talk to Emmett and see if Drew and some of his buddies can be there for when you go home. You know, just in case, you can't get up the steps. I don't think I can get you up them by myself."

"Yeah, sure. That would be okay. What else?"

"I'll talk to Cynthia about coming over to the loft to work on catching you up with things. Maybe she can start coming on Wednesday? That will give me a day to figure things out."

"There's nothing to figure out, Justin. I get released, and on Tuesday I go in to Kinnetik. No puzzle there."

"But... you've been in the hospital for the last month. You can't just return to your job the next day! You've got to go easy," Justin explained.

"I don't need coddling, I'm fine! Cynthia is expecting me on Tuesday, and I'll be there," Brian stated matter-of-factly.

"Okay," Justin acquiesced, knowing he wasn't going to win that argument. "But I'll still come over in the morning and evening to help out."

"Come over? I thought you were moving back?"

"You want me at the loft?" Justin asked softly, hoping that Brian wasn't just offering out of circumstance again.

"Justin...you told me you were moving back to give us a chance. I assume that means that you want to be with me. Right?"

"Yeah... but I ..."

"No apologies, no second guessing. You've lived with me before, so why wouldn't you this time?"

"I didn't want to assume that you wanted me there," Justin explained.

Brian looked Justin in the eye before softly saying, "I want you there." Brian then looked around, leaning forward to look at the door. "Now, where's that aide with dinner? I'm hungry suddenly."

Justin leaned over and kissed Brian on the lips. Brian opened his mouth, allowing the blonde man's tongue to caress his tongue, their actions speaking volumes. They heard a loud clearing of a throat, and stopped kissing in time to see the blushing dietary aide bring in Brian's dinner. Separating, Justin stood up, retrieved the bed tray, and brought it over to the bed.

"I'll be back later for the dishes," the aide announced as she quickly left the room.

"We sure know how to clear the room. Just wish it worked as well with the family as it did with the aide," Brian joked. He undid the silverware and lifted the tray tops from the dishes.

"Mystery loaf," he announced as he started to identify the foods. "I think I'll pass on that one. Mashed potatoes. Hmm, I don't think they can mess those up too much." He took a tentative bite of the white pile. "Not bad, but Debbie's are better." He ate about three quarters of the potatoes and the green beans on the plate. There was a dish of red Jell-O on the tray as well, and he ate about half of it as well. "What is it with hospitals and Jell-O? I think every lunch and dinner I've eaten has had Jell-O of some flavor and color. Is it some miracle food that I didn't know about?"

Justin laughed. "Not that I know of. I just think it's easy and cheap to make, and most people like it."

"Well, I'm never eating again. I've had enough to last me a life time," Brian announced.

Justin stifled a yawn.

"I know you've had a busy three days. Why don't you go home, and I'll see you in the morning? I'm not going to turn into a pumpkin if you leave," Brian urged Justin.

"You sure? I'm really tired. I guess the show and all the excitement is catching up to me."

"Yes, I'm sure. Call Daphne or Mother Taylor and have them come get you. I can work for a few hours, and then I'll sleep. It's Saturday night, and everyone is probably at Babylon; therefore they won't be up here visiting me, thank you very much."

Justin called Daphne and she came to pick him up. He kissed Brian before he left.

"Later," he said.

"Later," Brian repeated and smiled at the familiar line.

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