Nathan looks at Brian, “It’s not that I don’t like it. I just am not a fan of the subject matter.”

“What’s the subject matter?”

Justin acts nervous when he starts to say, “Nathan, let’s not-”

“Justin’s prom night. The parking garage.”

The silence is deafening and even Lily knows to be quiet. Brian pales at the words before he finally looks to Justin and says in a low voice, “Why the fuck would you paint that?”

Nathan feels himself wince, feeling a bit guilty for blurting it out. But, instead of Justin being upset with him for saying it or getting uncomfortable, the man starts the explanation with a completely emotionless expression.

“Chris Hobbs called me about a year ago from his death bed. He had a brain tumor and was genuinely was trying to make amends. He moved to Maine a few years after I left for New York, went into therapy, and eventually met a guy at church. I guess he found God and his gayness around the same time. .I’m not sure how hypocritical that is. A few more years pass and he’s diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumor. He starts calling the people he’s hurt in the past and the last person he called was me. I listened to his apology and I told him to go fuck himself. He died the next day. So Brian, sometimes when I’m feeling a bit strange about that, I paint things related to Chris Hobbs. Sometimes I paint him in a hospital bed, looking like death with a bloody baseball bat in his limp hands. And every once in a while I paint myself in the parking garage. I find it therapeutic.”

Brian stares at him with anger and fear before getting up.

“Nathan, I need to talk to you.”

Nathan looks up at Brian in surprise, “…Okay?”

Nathan takes one look back at Justin before following Brian out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of their partners’ earshot. Nathan stands there, watching Brian pace for a few seconds before he suddenly stops and starts to speak.

“Has his hand been acting up?” Brian asks, concern lacing his voice.

Nathan shrugs, “Sometimes. I’ll massage it or get him to quit painting for the day. He tends to overdo it sometimes.”

“But did his hand seem worse after Hobbs died?”

Nathan takes a second to think about it, “What you mean like a psychological reaction?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

Nathan sighs. When Chris Hobbs died, it had been confusing. Justin hadn’t been sad. Why would he be? But he hadn’t been happy. He doesn’t know if Justin expected to feel vindicated by Chris’s demise but Justin didn’t have it in him to revel in that kind of karma, especially when the man had apologized a day beforehand and left his fiancè behind. But, even though he shouldn’t have, Justin seemed to have felt guilty. Conflicted. His boyfriend had more or less thrown himself into his work, trying to get his mind off of things. Physically testing his limits is what caused the pain but it was his mind that caused him to physically test his limits.

“It’s complicated,” Nathan finally says, “He worked at lot for a few months after that. It got his mind off of things. He overdid it sometimes and suffered the results of that.”

Brian nods, paces once more then asks, “What about nightmares? Has he had any of those since?”

“A couple,” Nathan admits, “But he had a couple before it happened too. I took care of him.”

Brian stares at him then, in a tone that sounds grateful, he says, “Thank you.”

Before Nathan can say anything else, Brian leaves to go back into the kitchen. Even though Nathan could be alarmed that Brian still cares about Justin or feel confused by the exchange, he doesn’t.

He just feels like Justin is a lucky man to have so many people care about his well being. He also thinks it may be the first time where it was obvious that he and Brian share the same concerns. The short conversation made the man relatable.

Shaking off the exchange, he walks back into the kitchen, sits next to his boyfriend, and it’s like the conversation never happened.