The bed seemed bigger that night. Lonelier, too, than it had ever felt before.

Justin faced away from Brian, keeping his eyes fastened on the moon glaring at him from outside the window. He longed for it to carry him off to sleep, off to peaceful darkness where he could hide. It struck him as a cowardly thing to long for, but Justin was becoming very well acquainted with cowardice. He hated himself for it, but he had also become resigned to it. The only other way forward seemed far too frightening.

Brian could feel Justin’s warm body from his side of the bed, but it was an illusion. Justin had never felt more distant, not even when all they did was sleep after Brian took him in after he’d been released from the hospital. Brian hadn’t thought it possible, but he felt more helpless than he had then.

Justin was only a shadow filling the room, arriving too late and leaving too soon. He was rarely present as of late, and when he was around, he wasn’t actually there. Brian could read through his every look and gesture. It killed him, peering through the deception and coming face-to-face with harsh, dreaded truths.

Brian reflected on a few hours ago when Michael had told him about Justin potentially seeing someone else, regularly. Of course, he’d known, and he’d immediately dismissed Michael’s pathetic attempts at prompting him to do something about his feelings. He was Brian Kinney, for fuck’s sake! He wasn’t going to subscribe to all that hetero bullshit and play pretend with some bullshit committed relationship. Justin was free to choose what he wanted to do… who he wanted to do.

The part that hurt the most was the way he chose to do it; behind Brian’s back. Brian didn’t do relationships for this very reason: so he wouldn’t be cheated on, so he wouldn’t be lied to, so he wouldn’t have his heart twisted and stomped on by a backstabbing little brat.

I took it all for granted, but how was I to know that you'd be letting go. Now it cuts like a knife, but it feels so right.

Brian heard a distinctive sniff, and glanced over to see Justin’s tensed body. He was clearly trying not to cry, but it was a weak attempt; the past hour’s events were catching up with him. Brian looked away. He wasn’t going to reach out, not now. Even if he were willing, he doubted it would do any good.

That wouldn't be the first time things have gone astray, now Justin had thrown it all away. His attempts at feeling loved and cherished, something Brian wouldn’t give him, had created a twisting strain between them. Justin wished he could bridge the gap, but what was the point if Brian refused to meet him halfway?

Then again, there was so much between them that Justin didn’t think he could bear to throw away. As much as he loved all the moments spent with Ethan, nothing could compare with his time spent with Brian… could it? Every kiss, every touch, every glance almost felt like their first night together, only it even got better and better every time. Brian was still the one to ignite that spark in his heart, to turn the fire on like the first time their eyes met.

Closing his eyes, Justin recalled their first night together, the smell of Brian’s skin, the softness of his lips as they kissed, the fire in his eyes, the perfect motion of his body, and his voice as they made love for the first time. The memory made him ache, so severely that he found himself on the verge of tears.

As Justin’s shoulders began to tremble, Brian’s stomach dropped. He wanted to shout, to sit up and yell, “Stop crying like a stupid twat! You brought this upon us,” but he held his tongue. He wasn’t presently sure of his capacity for speech. The knot in his throat made it painful enough to breathe, let alone speak.

He felt somewhat responsible for Justin turning to another man, too. He’d driven him away with his pride, his ego, his needs, and his selfish ways. Of course all of that would cause a young, strong man like Justin to walk out of his life. It was fucking inevitable. There was no undoing it. Now it was impossible to clean up the mess he’d made, and it haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

Suddenly, Justin flipped around and wrapped his arms around Brian’s neck, startling him and very nearly choking him. Hot tears washed Brian’s neck.

Please forgive me - I can't stop loving you. Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through.

“Please forgive me,” Justin wept, his body quaking with the force of his sobs.

All Brian did was hug Justin tightly, as if saying never leave me, I don't know what I'd do. That was all he could do; he remained silent, otherwise, with nothing to say. What could he say, anyway? Give some pathetic apology for his behavior? Brian Kinney never apologized. Besides, Justin was warned. He had known what he was getting into… hadn’t he?

Should he admit he should have acted differently? He should have brought Justin flowers—he’d have loved the gesture. He should have done other coupley things like hold his hand, spent more time with him, paid more attention to his needs, been more involved in whatever it was that they had. There were so many could-haves and should-haves that he was beginning to crumble under the weight of his regret.

No. No. Fuck that. No apologies, no excuses, and no regrets. Absolutely no way. Brian Kinney wasn’t going to apologize for his mistakes and he sure as shit wasn’t going to let regret weight him down. He kept a firm hold on Justin, but that was it. That was all he was going to do. Anything more, and he’d risk losing himself as well as Justin. Maybe that made him a shitty partner… or a shitty person in general… but that was hardly a revelation, was it?

Meanwhile, Justin continued to cry. It was softening, growing quieter, but that wasn’t to say Justin seemed any less distraught. His distress was palpable, in fact, even painfully so as Justin whispered, “What is becoming of us, Brian?”

Exactly what you wanted, Sunshine. You brought us to ruin. Brian wasn’t going to answer a stupid question. His only reply was a hand running over Justin’s back. He refused to offer anything more than that. If Justin wanted to pour his heart out, he could pour his fucking heart out. If Justin wanted to fight, he would have to be the one to ignite it. Brian wasn’t going to be fucked. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again.

Realizing he wasn’t going to extract a response from Brian, Justin resigned himself to silence and clamped his mouth shut. Keeping quiet was one thing; stopping his tears was quite another. Choking on a sob and sniffing loudly, Justin burrowed deeper into Brian’s warm embrace. It wasn’t like he expected a miracle to happen. Justin’s only hope had been Brian talking to him, shouting at him, punching him. All Justin wanted was a reaction, like their passionate clash from earlier, their almost-fuck that ended way too soon. He had hoped that Brian would continue the confrontation after Justin had showered. But as he had emerged from the bathroom, he found Brian on the bed smoking from a cigarette, completely ignoring him. It had been startlingly clear that Brian had no interest in engaging him further.

It wasn’t beyond him to start begging, but it would make him look weak and guilty. Rather, weaker and guiltier than he already did. Justin had never felt more pathetic in his life. With tears still sliding down his face, he coiled his arms more tightly around Brian, hoping it would do something to express his remorse, his sorrow, his longing.

Whether it did or it didn’t, Justin had no idea. Brian eased away from him, slipping from Justin’s embrace like sand through his fingers. Before Justin could protest, Brian muttered, “Sleep, Sunshine. You have an early class.”

His gruff voice cut through Justin’s heart. The bed felt lonelier than ever as Brian moved far over to the other side. Justin couldn’t deny that he deserved it; they both knew the truth, which was that Justin didn’t have an early class. He was meeting Ethan.

I can’t do this anymore, Justin thought helplessly. He closed his eyes and turned to stare out the window again. The moon had disappeared somewhat behind gathering clouds, leaving nothing but a soft yellow glow filtering through the hazy mass. It helped to soothe him, somehow.

Before falling in a fitful sleep, Justin decided he was going to end things with Ethan. He loved Brian too much to continue hurting him. So that would be that: he would end it.

oOo

That was the plan, but as it turned out, Justin couldn’t resist being around Ethan. He was the only person who gave Justin what he wanted. He even proved how sweet and attentive he was by asking Justin to drive to the country and watch the meteor shower that upcoming Friday.

Sadly, Justin couldn’t accept the invitation. Brian’s attempt to show his love for Justin in a selfless way was through a release party for his comic book.

Ethan didn’t seem affected by Justin’s rejection. He commented on Brian loving him a lot for throwing a party for his comic book. Then he offered Justin his latest CD where he’d used the drawing that Justin had done the first time they met. There was something deeply touching about that. It warmed Justin and stayed with him for ages afterwards.

He hadn’t felt that way in such a long time. He clung to the feeling, absorbing it, treasuring it.

He wished that it was Brian making him feel that way instead of Ethan, but it wasn’t.

oOo

As Brian walked on the Liberty Avenue, he saw a familiar yet strange face. It was him. Justin’s lover. Apparently, he was a beggar. It made Brian truly question Justin’s reasons for being with the guy. Was ‘love’ really that important to him to reduce himself to this? Falling for a nothing and a nobody?

Inadvertently through their short exchange of words, Brian caught the fiddler’s attention. He blamed the cold outside to go into the diner. He knew the man would follow, like a moth to the flame. Money got everyone interested.

While Brian was playing mind games with Ethan – giving him hope for a better life, and almost gushing that his favorite composition was Paganini's cantata in D-Major, which was ridiculously romantic – a thought occurred to him: maybe the romancing was what lured Justin into the fiddler’s net. It was probably an endless array of clichéd bullshit – flowers, sonnets and the like.

As he was silently ridiculing such absurd gestures, Brian noticed Justin walking into the diner. “I should give you my card. My name's Brian, Brian Kinney. And... you are?”

He smiled sweetly at the fiddler, who was beginning to look incredibly uneasy. Brian felt a sharp kick of satisfaction at that.

Trying to mask his discomfort, the man stated, “Ethan. Gold.”

“Brian! Brian, I thought you'd be at work,” Justin said, approaching them tentatively. When he noticed who Brian’s companion was, he saw his world shattering right before his eyes. The moment he had dreaded so deeply had come faster than he thought.

Brian watched the secret looks, the terrifying truth exchanged through glances between Justin and Ethan. The sharp kick of satisfaction was gone – no, utterly obviated. “No, I had a business meeting. Justin, this is Ethan. Ethan, Justin.”

Ethan was the first to break the awkward silence that had fallen upon them. “I need to go to class.”

Seeking out the sense of satisfaction that had so quickly evaded him, Brian decided to try and enjoy himself. There was no reason he shouldn’t have fun showing Justin he knew all about his little secret.

“By the way, if you're interested the job’s yours,” he called after Ethan.

Once they were alone, Justin hesitantly turned his gaze to Brian. Regret, apologies, sadness, anger; they were all reflected clearly in his blue eyes. Brian didn’t let it get to him. He merely gave Justin a look that said: “I’m onto you. I know everything.”

oOo

That night, Justin felt like a total stranger as he stepped into the loft, terrified Brian was going to kick him out for good. He found Brian staring at his computer and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself for whatever lay ahead. It didn’t seem to do much good.

Brian held up a finger, making Justin wait. It was a vain attempt to stall the inevitable conversation. When he gave Justin the go ahead, the first thing the twat did was apologize. Brian didn’t need nor want any of Justin’s meaningless apologies. Incensed, yet reluctant to fully show it, he started mocking Justin.

“You were the poor, helpless victim of a love-bashing.”

“I should have told you,” Justin said in a small voice.

“And taken all the fun out of it?” Brian glanced up at Justin incredulously. When he was met with a confused and pained expression, he looked away, sniffed, and asked in a somewhat bored voice, “So, how big's his dick?”

“It has nothing to do with that.” Justin walked away from the desk; he wasn’t going to have this talk with Brian.

Brian caught up with him at the kitchen island. “Since when? You love cock. You love it down your throat. You love it up your ass. You love riding it. And after you come, you love to fall asleep with it still inside you.”

He made sure to demonstrate the validity of his point by pushing his hand in Justin’s jeans. He tried leaning in for kisses, tried pulling Justin closer, tried meeting his gaze with a teasing smile, but Justin was having none of it.

All too soon, Justin pushed Brian away, telling him, “Cut it out!”

“You’re hard,” Brian commented snidely, “So don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”

As he was walking away, Justin called after him in protest. “There are other things!”

Brian relented, trying to find out what it was about that bum of a fiddler that was so fucking special. “Flowers? Picnics? Violin music…”

“He loves me,” Justin answered simply, eyeing Brian searchingly.

Brian rolled his eyes, mocking coolly, “Your dreamy-eyed schoolboy.”

“In ways that you can’t!”

“In ways that I won’t,” Brian said calmly. He thought everyone could see how much he cared for Justin. Apparently the twat was the exception to that.

“He told me that I’m all he wants,” Justin added unsteadily. He knew Brian would never tell him that, or probably ever even feel that way. Brian was always seeking out the company of other men. Even if it was only for brief snatches of time, it was beginning to be more than Justin could bear. He wanted what Ethan was offering. He wanted to be someone’s one and only.

“They’re still using that one?” Brian deadpanned in reply, quickly returning to being mock-curious.

With his voice going thin, Justin retorted, “It’s more than you’ve ever said!”

Ever will, Justin added in his head.

As if reading his mind, Brian answered, “And it’s more than I ever will. So, what the fuck are you still doing here?”

He said this with his hands cradling Justin’s head, their faces pressed together in a deceptively intimate nuzzle. Brian wanted it to mean something, but it so clearly didn’t. Justin wanted that fucking fiddler and all of his pretty little promises. His heart breaking piece by piece inside his chest, he soaked up what he was certain were their final moments together. He should have known being with Justin in whatever they had wasn’t going to last forever. Eventually, Justin would find someone more suited to him, someone who willingly gave him the things Brian never would.

“Would you care if I wasn’t?” Justin asked, his voice straining. He was so aware of Brian’s physical closeness – the hands stroking the back of his neck, reaching into his hair, the graze of Brian’s thumb as he touched it gently to Justin’s chin – but that was all there was. It became more and more apparent how distant Brian was as Justin stared into his hollow, hazel eyes.

Say you love me! Say you need me! Don't let the silence do the talking. Just say you want me, or you don't need me. It's killing me.

They maintained eye-contact for a while. Brian searched Justin’s face for some sign of understanding, but there was nothing to be found. He couldn’t believe it – how the fuck could Justin ask him something like that? He’d tried, hadn’t he? He’d tried harder with Justin than he ever had with anyone. Well, fuck it. It was all shot to shit now.

It’s only your shadow. Never yourself.

I hope he buys you flowers. I hope he holds your hand. I hope he offers you the romance you want. I hope he loves you enough. I hope he does all the things I should have done when I was your man.

“It’s your call where you wanna be. You decide,” Brian said monotonously, brushing past Justin as he returned to his desk, not seeing Justin’s face mashed up in pain.

oOo

The next time Justin saw Ethan, they discussed the apparently impromptu run-in Ethan had with Brian.

It was the closest they ever came to a fight.

Ethan demanded he couldn’t wait and wish and hope that night was going to be the night Justin would finally stay. Not when he had the upcoming competition to think of. He needed the money and the possible contract. He was definitely not going to accept Brian’s donation.

All Justin could say was, “I want to stay.”

“Well, you can’t. You can’t. So just go back to your boyfriend. And I’ll go back to my violin.” He made it a point to start grinding away with his back to Justin, who tried to talk to him.

When he realized it was actually over, Justin got up from the couch and fled angry—at himself, at Ethan, at Brian, at the mess he was stuck in.

oOo

At the loft, Brian was waiting awake. The later it got, the bigger the gnawing in his stomach got.

Justin had chosen. And it wasn’t him.

Then he heard the beautiful sound of the metal door sliding open. He never thought that sound would cause his cold body to warm, or his heart to beat faster. Justin had chosen him. The relief Brian felt was utterly intoxicating. Whatever this was, he wasn’t ready for it to end, that was for fucking sure.

Justin approached the bed slowly, not letting his face betray him. Ethan had kicked him out. And there he was, back in the cold loft, which he’d once considered home. He undressed quietly with Brian watching his every move expressionlessly. Justin wished that Brian would say something, anything, or at least let down his defenses and show how he was feeling.

His wish went unanswered. Sure, Brian was letting him stay, he was inviting him back into their bed, but it all felt so empty. Justin wanted more. He needed more.

Brian lifted the sheet for Justin to crawl in their bed. The second he was laying down, Brian spooned him, running his fingers over Justin’s hand, hoping he had him back for good.

The position didn’t allow them to see the tears in their eyes. Even though they were huddled together in their bed, in their home, they both knew the storm was far from over yet.

oOo

At the Rage party, after Justin found Brian fucking himself – quite literally! –, he stomped back to the dance floor. He was determined to leave. He couldn’t bear to stay at this party, knowing Brian was celebrating with someone other than him. Justin forced a smile at the people congratulating him and pushed his way through the crowd, grimly determined to get the fuck out of dodge and go home where he could fume in peace. The second Brian returned to the loft they would have another confrontation, that was for sure. They were going to have it out and get everything out in the open. Maybe they could set new rules and renegotiate whatever… this was. That would be their next step. That would be how they would move forward from all of this.

All of his determination vanished when he found Ethan amongst the crowd. The mere sight of him brought a smile to Justin’s face. There was a thought lurking in the back of his mind, something familiar, but Justin tuned it out in favor of approaching Ethan.

“I was practicing Beethoven. It sounded like shit and I realized that’s all your fault,” Ethan said.

“My fault?” Justin asked, amused.

“I tried to forget about you, but I can’t. You’re all I think about,” Ethan confessed. The admission sent hope spiraling dizzily through Justin. He couldn’t help it; there was no avoiding the effect Ethan had on him. There was also no avoiding the thought that was pushing its way to the front of his mind; as Justin thought of Brian

As soon as Brian finished fucking Rage, he strolled back out into the crowd gathered on the dance floor, scanning the space to see where Justin had gone. He had no idea what the next step was, he… there was no next step. He realized that as soon as he glimpsed Justin and Ethan, together, kissing heatedly. It was like Brian had been stabbed in the gut. As Justin turned to look at him, he felt the knife twist sharply.

When their eyes met, all the unspoken words were shouted loud and clear. Justin had made his choice. It was over.

It was over.

Of course, it wasn’t like that actually mattered. It didn’t. It didn’t. Brian assumed a perfected mask of coolness as Justin and Ethan walked out of Babylon together, wrapped up in each other. He wasn’t going to let a twink create havoc in his carefully orchestrated life. Nothing touched him. No one hurt him.

So what if Justin was gone? Life would go on. There were other hot guys waiting to be fucked by Brian Kinney.

Though, it was easier thought than done.

The moment Brian saw Justin leaving, something inside him broke, possibly beyond repair.