Justin was alone, sitting on the swivel chair in the semi-darkness and sliding around the spacious loft. Listening to the CD that Ethan gave him on the day they met, which happened to also be Justin's birthday, the boy was lost in thoughts. How long has it been? About year and a half since the memorable night, the night he was sure he would remember for the rest of his life, no matter with whom he would spend it. And just a couple of months since he was staying here, at first because of his bashing-induced trauma and later because he heard what he wanted and needed to hear. Almost.

If one took away the things like seeing Chris Hobbs in the hospice or waking up drenched with sweat and terrified because of a nightmare with the above mentioned as a main figure in it or dealing with Brian's moodiness and tricking, he could do nothing but to admit to himself that it has been the best time of his life. Not having to spend a considerable amount of time in a suffocating atmosphere of St. James Academy and instead working on his art as much as he could... when he was not busy trying to earn at least part of his living at the diner or fucking with Brian... sometimes with some additions to the two of them. But nevertheless, he has been with Brian in a way that seemed to be unreachable, unaccessible - simply impossible before the bashing.

There were a lot of these semiconscious moments between the late-night fucking sessions and falling asleep, with Brian usually already sleeping at his side and keeping physical connection with his lover in one way or another, be it by reaching with his arm around Justin's chest or spooning him protectively. And in such moments, with his mind and body usually still recovering after... well, in case of fucking with Brian Kinney there's probably no need of explanation. Anyway, then there was often a thought crossing Justin's mind that he not only loved this man more than his life itself, but also that Brian had been incredibly accurate on that first night by saying what his E-driven mind told him to say.

I want you to always remember this. So that no matter who you're ever with, I'll always be there.

And although he didn't mean this, for Justin it referred now to more than his first and every next time. Because even if he hesitated to admit it, and doing so was not easy even to himself, deep down he knew that whatever relationships he would have throughout of his life, there was nothing that could be as overwhelming and intense as his first flame. But he couldn't stop thinking that however strong the urge to be with Brian was, it couldn't be so that he would spend the rest of his life, or a considerable part of it, being his older lover's boy-toy? Fuck buddy? Fuck buddy to take care of when he cannot afford his tuition fees... but still a fuck buddy.

The rational part in him was screaming that he was wrong. That Brian did indeed love him in a way he has never loved anyone else, and it was extremely unlikely that he would in the future. Brian has done with and for him the things that he hadn't done with and for anyone else, excluding Michael of course, but that's another story - and of course a considerable part of his relationship with Justin was to be forever nonexistent in the relationship with Michael. And it was like that from the very beginning. Allowing a trick to stay over the night? Taking the temporarily homeless trick in, actually talking to his parents, going on a search mission to New York? Coming to the trick's prom just after being severely traumatized by his own personal I'm-30-worse-than-dead drama? No old-style pre-Justin Brian Kinney would do anything like that. And that was just a beginning, for what came after the prom was so reminiscent of an actual r-thing that Brian was so terrified of, that after a while it simply couldn't have been classified as anything else. So every unprejudiced person would say that Brian loved Justin like no one else, but just wasn't particularly eager to express it in a conventional, sweet, even cheesy way, preferring actions over words and empty gestures.

But if you spend you entire teen life in a culture that glorifies the latter, then no matter if you're gay, straight or someone in between, more or less consciously you start to expect them from those who are supposed to show you their affection. And if you are repeatedly not given what the culture and people around you taught you you should get, you start thinking that the person in question simply doesn't care, when in fact they may care more than you'll ever know. But Justin didn't see it in this way.

How can I fool myself that I'm special to him, when I'm in fact convenient, at the utmost. It must be nice, even if you are him, not to come back to an empty flat every day, to have a guaranteed good fuck within a hand's reach, to have a companion to smoke a joint and watch an old movie. But that's all it is, there could be maybe not anyone instead of me, but many other guys for sure. So this is it, my big love: living together resulting from a guilty conscience, convenience and a fucking hustler as a birthday present.

************************************************

Not that it would happen often, but on that evening Brian had Melanie on is mind, as he was walking back home from the diner where he went for something to eat after work and shopping with her and Lindsay. Or rather he had on his mind the words that she said, the bullshit about how Justin wanted him to be "romantic". Really? Brian didn't normally like her, barely tolerated her as she now was in one package with his best friend and his son. He would be crazy if he actually considered her remarks to be true.

How the fuck can Justin think that I don't care? Doesn't he know that what he has with me is the closest resemblance of a, do I really need to think about this word, relationship? I agreed to the rules he himself broke with that virgin boy, but I haven't, and I don't intend to, I come home to him every fucking night - not that I'm unhappy about it - and he knows me at least that well to know that if I didn't want to do this, I simply wouldn't? What the hell...

And then he came back couple of days ago, to Justin's birthday. How happy and smiling and giggling was he for this minute or two when Brian wrapped his arms around him, covered his eyes and told him that the birthday surprise awaits him. And then, when he saw the hustler, he suddenly became quiet, and the expression on his face - baffled, almost disappointed? Sex was great, sure, their sex is always great no matter if it's just the two of them or someone else too, like on that day. But now when Brian was thinking about that day, there was something in Justin during the time with the hustler and later, on the way to Ben's party, which made Brian feel uneasy, almost disconcerted. Distance? Sadness?

And now this fucking Melanie and her babbling. What the hell does she know about me and Justin? Well for that matter, what the hell do I know about being in a relationship, non-relationship, long-term arrangement, whatever I call it. Because I may never call it in any way like this out loud, but what it is if I live with him, fuck him every night, share morning coffee and dinners and movies and even some of the tricking with him. And it feels so good to have him around. But it's still so fucking confusing when they suddenly tell me that he doesn't get what he wants... I'm new at that, I deserve some kind of a lenient treatment or whatever, if all that is supposed to work.

Lost in thoughts, Brian automatically reached for his cigarettes and took the last one. Not wanting to face morning without nicotine, he stopped at a newspaper stand and bought couple of packs. And then the roses, classic, cheesy red rose bouquets arranged on a table standing outside, caught his attention. A nagging voice of Melanie the Muncher kept speaking in his head as he reached for one of the bouquets.

You might have given him something a little more thoughtful. Something romantic. Just once.

"Those are nice. Shall I wrap them for you?", asked the seller, which made Brian cringe a little at first. But then he thought "What the hell. Just once." and replied:

"If you say so."

And then he was coming back home, the last 500 meters, not more, having an internal discussion, a heavy argument in his head: to throw away or not to throw away? Each dumpster looked like a solution to all the world's problems, but the other part of him was convinced that Kinney doesn't do what he doesn't want to, and so if he really did buy these stupid roses, he must have wanted that. So he might as well make it to the loft with them. He started walking quicker, not wanting to give himself too much time to change his mind.

He entered the loft to find Justin sitting at his desk and drawing on the computer, not really paying attention to Brian beside answering to his greeting. The annoying, unpleasurable violin music was filling the air, the music which Brian heard in the loft on numerous occasions during the last couple of days and which for some reason started to really get on his nerves, to a more than a reasonable degree. He took off his coat, stood behind Justin and put one hand on the back of his shoulders, massaging it slightly.

"I brought you something", said Brian clearing his throat.

"What it is? Another hustler?". Justin seemed to be resigned, as he slowly turned around to face his lover.

"You should be so lucky. Not this time."
And then the blond looked up at the beautiful man standing in front of him with a bunch of red roses in his hand, chewing on his lip. Brian Kinney. With roses. For me. What happened?

There was awkward moment of silence, as neither of them knew what to say. After a while Justin took the flowers and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend as tightly as he could, whispering a "thank you" to his ear, then looking at him with probably the most radiant smile Brian has recently seen. Mel, you're not that bad, crossed his mind.

"What's the occasion, if I may ask?", said Justin with a happy, but a bit confused expression on his face.

"I didn't really think about it. Maybe consider it your birthday bouquet, 'cause I guess you like them better than your first gift. I know it was a couple of days ago, but you know me. I'm always fashionably late."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!". Justin put the flowers on the table, cupped his boyfriend's face and kissed him tenderly.

"Just don't get used to this too much. It's not that now I'm planning on doing this all the time, you know. I wanted just once to do something your way, I want you to know that I care about you a lot, even if you may think I don't. And even if I normally suck at this whole romance thing, although I have an impression I did quite well today..."

"It's briliant. And I know that you care about me, and should I forget it, I'll remind myself of today. It's hard not to have doubts sometimes with you, you know, but I'll do my best."

Then the last sound of the violin CD played out and a comforting silence filled the loft.

"Can I ask you for one thing?" said Brian.

"What is it?"

"Could you please stop listening to this violin shit? At least in my presence. It's kind of annoying. Listen to anything you want, just not this."

"Whatever you say, stud", Justin answered with a smile and kissed Brian on the lips. "Wait a minute, I'll find some vase for the flowers."

"You better come back here really in a minute or I'll take take all my clothes off and deprive you of this pleasure."

"Oh, I'm sure you have plenty others planned for me for tonight. Just as I have.", said the younger man heading back from the kitchen. How could I have had this doubts about him tonight, crossed his mind as he was taking of his shirt, his gaze fixed on his lover doing the same.

"This is going to be a good night", said Justin seductively, moving his finger down Brian's chest.

"And much more than just this one."