He had not exactly expected Justin to be waiting for him at the loft’s threshold, no matter what he had said. Brian was fairly sure Justin had outgrown wanting the trappings of love, now that he was relatively assured of the real thing.

Still, Brian was expecting to find something more than Justin sitting at the computer, staring at the screen, not even looking up at him when he walked in the door. He had promised him he’d do anything he wanted, within reason. He would never admit this out loud, but he had been interested in what Justin might come up with. Thai food on a blanket on the floor? Movies? Dancing? He had been betting on movies. He had never actually gone with Justin to the movie theater; well, porn didn’t count. Okay, so, Justin had insisted that porn had not counted as a movie experience, and Brian had insisted that it counted too much as a “date.” God forbid they actually go to a regular Hollywood-type movie together.

He had been betting with himself that Justin would be up on the computer, ordering tickets, on his return. The mental machinations by which he had arrived at this conclusion successfully kept him from dwelling on the situation he had just left behind at the police station. Out of the police station, into the car, down the street, thinking of what Justin would have planned for them. No pausing to consider how desperately he wanted to leave behind what he had learned, safely left with the people who were employed to deal with it. Instead, it was so much easier to focus on imagining exactly why Justin would insist on a movie, what sort, how he would set it up, and whether Brian should give into giving the boy an actual date. And if he should get them popcorn (it went without saying that butter was out… well depending on what Justin promised in exchange). He had told Justin “whatever.” He was betting that “whatever” would be a movie date. Him. Brian Kinney. On a date to the movies. He was also betting that Justin would do it for a cheap laugh, just to watch him squirm.

But here he had arrived, home at last, pausing for effect on the threshold of the loft, and Justin continued to frown at the computer and ignore him.

Apparently, his bet was way off.

He shut the door behind him with a bang. Justin jumped, and looked over.

“Oh… hey.” He turned back to the monitor.

Brian strolled across the floor, and answered, “Hey.” He dropped his jacket over the back of the couch. Justin went back to ignoring him.

Huh. Casually making his way over to the bed platform, Brian shrugged out of his dress shirt as he mounted the steps, flexing his back muscles as the shirt dropped to the floor. He pivoted toward the closet, unbuttoning the top of his slacks.

Okay, so was this part of a strategy to lull Brian into a sense of complacency, before springing something truly wild on him? Justin’s idea of wild, of course, not Brian’s. So… what was the next choice down the list? Chinese food on the floor, on a blanket with candles? Were they just waiting for the delivery man to show up? Would Justin actually insist on being carried over the threshold, and was only trying to figure out how to ask? Brian was up for a good struggle against that idea, a struggle ending with his partner on the floor, underneath him, well inside the threshold, and Brian well inside him.

Sex. Brian realized that he was horny, incredibly turned on, more so than he had been in ages, since before… since before. Fantasies of flesh swam before him as he stood, thinking, motionless in his bedroom. He wanted to feel Justin’s body, warm and naked, writhing beneath him, begging, insisting. He wanted to feel his partner’s limbs opening up to his hands, his mouth, his cock. Focusing on the picture of the milky blond vision, Brian continued to avoid thinking of the decisions being made in the police precinct, decisions well beyond his control. The case was so much larger than he. He had only minimal say in how, or even if, it broke open. No reason to think of it. No reason at all.

Reaching out toward the closet door, his mind shied away from that unpleasant thought, and skittered back to imagining how he looked to Justin right now. Naked back. Slacks… pooling on the floor at his feet, kicked out of the way. This was the point Justin should come up the steps and pretend concern over his pants’ potential wrinkles. He would actually hang them, right before turning and brushing against Brian’s chest, or back, or ass, giving Brian every excuse to pet Justin’s hair, his shoulder, his ass. Brian smirked. Justin really was a good domestic partner. All that, and he got his suits hung nicely, too.

However, there was no noise of approaching man, lured onward by the irresistible. Frowning, Brian turned and looked back. Justin had crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair, but only to continue staring at the screen in front of him. Brian glanced down, at the long length of his near-naked body, then back up at Justin, who continued to ignore him.

What. The. Fuck. He was practically flashing the green light, and no reaction?

Brian grabbed a pair of jeans from out of the drawer. Tossing them on quickly, along with a black tank, he slowed his impatient movement to effect a casual stroll into the living area, back to where Justin sat, deep in thought.

He knew he looked good. Hell, he looked great. And he had practically promised Justin a celebration. How often did that happen? And still, no reaction from the twink. Oh, right, ex-twink. Whatever. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brian barked.

Startled, Justin looked up. He grimaced, actually grimaced! and then his left hand began massaging the right.

Oh, well, fuck. Brian sat down on the table, facing him directly, and said, “Justin.”

“Hobbes wants to settle.”

For a few very long moments, white noise filled Brian’s ears. Then he shook it out. “What?”

Justin took a deep breath. “I’m suing Hobbes. Well, I’ve been suing Hobbes. Well, technically, Mel and I are suing Hobbes…”

“Justin…”

“Right, okay. We filed the lawsuit a few months ago.”

Brian nodded. Yeah, he knew that already.

Justin fidgeted. “Look, nothing was happening, just delays, and then stuff was happening, but other stuff was happening…”

“Oh. Thanks for clearing that up.”

“Fuck you Brian, I didn’t want to talk about it! You, of all people, can understand that.”

Brian reached down and took Justin’s right hand away from his left to give it a more thorough massage than Justin could give himself one-handed. “What happened?”

Justin stared at him for a moment, and his lips thinned. Brian felt his hand tense, and wondered if he was going to yank it away from him. But then he relaxed, took a deep breath, and let it out. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I suppose.”

“I’m okay.” Justin pulled his hand away. He flashed a quick smile. “Really. Just, okay. We were pretty much ready to go to court, when Hobbes, well, really Hobbes’s dad, decides he wants to settle.”

“How much?”

“Million and a half.”

Brian stared, then snorted a laugh. “Shit, Sunshine, you’re rich!”

“It’s not about the money.”

“Of course not.” Brian’s skeptical tone spoke volumes.

“No, seriously. The thing that really sucks, is that I’m not even suing Hobbes, I’m suing his dad. He was four days from his 18th birthday when that happened, four days! So since he was a minor he can’t be touched. Can you believe that shit?”

Brian just continued to watch him, until Justin brought his gaze back up, and asked, “What do you think I should do?”

“It’s a lot of money.”

“It’s not about the money.”

Brian thought about that. “What’s it about?”

“I want to kill him.” He stopped, closed his eyes. “Okay, not kill him. Destroy him. Hurt him so bad he never recovers. I don’t want a million dollars, I want all the money he’ll ever have. I want to destroy him the way he destroyed me.”

Brian knew this talk did not come from the most rational place. “He didn’t destroy you,” Brian stated, firmly.

“He tried to!” No arguing that statement, nor the anger in the raised voice. “But, I can’t! So what’s the point of going after his dad? Can you believe that guy sent me an apology.”

“He sent you an apology.”

“Yeah, just, I’m terribly sorry that my son hurt you, I really wish I could go back and undo whatever it was that made him feel he needed to do this, blah, blah, blah. He even made a contribution to the GLC.”

“I bet not anywhere near a million and a half.”

“Of course not.”

“And I’m sure he told you exactly how much and to whom, and isn’t he just a great supporter of gays everywhere.”

“You know this story, then?” Justin pushed his chair back, and stood abruptly to walk over to the windows. Brian watched his back. “Of course, not a word from Hobbes, that fucker. He’s not even in town anymore. One of my supposed friends who goes to the Institute told me he’s on a grand tour of Europe. Why do these people think I want to know this stuff?

And how convenient is it that Hobbes is out of the way for this, huh? Can’t testify.” Justin turned around, and studied Brian intently. “You know, if I accept the offer, I can pay you back. For my education, and for the car.”

“I told you…”

“I know what you said!” Justin bit off. “Brian, I know what you said,” he continued, more gently, “but the truth is, I didn’t protest about the car more because I know you feel like you owe me something. And…” Justin shook his head.

“Justin.”

“Well, you’re feeling good for the first time since… since the attack. I didn’t want to do anything to disrupt that.”

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I can take care of myself. And I don’t owe you shit.”

The smile ghosted Justin’s face, very briefly. “Exactly. Because you stood by me through the bashing. And technically, if we’re going to even the score, what I deserve from you is to be thrown out of here on my ass. To be tossed out in the cold, the same way I left you cold, a great payback for everything you did for me before Ethan.”

Brian groaned. He so did not want to get into this. They had put the Ian bullshit well behind them at this point; couldn’t it just stay in the past? Apparently not. He stalked over toward where Justin stood next to the windows, the fading daylight glowing against his skin.

Justin continued, relentless, as he watched Brian approach. “I don’t deserve shit from you.”

“Nobody deserves shit from anyone,” Brian answered.

“You know what I mean,” Justin returned, ducking his head to the side as Brian came flush up against his body.

Brian bent his knees, so he was at the same level as Justin’s gaze. “What do you want?”

Startled, Justin’s eyes flew to meet his partner’s. “What?”

“I told you, we were going to celebrate. I said, you could have anything you want when I got home. I’m home. What do you want?”

Justin bit his lip. So much between them, sometimes it felt that reaching Brian was like trying to fight through a dense undergrowth, so thick that he couldn’t even see the other man. And then, with one word, one phrase, Brian took a machete to the weeds in their way. Justin wished he had that gift, but he only seemed able, most times, to get further lost in the thicket. “I want to make love to you,” he answered, right before he realized his mistake. Brian’s eyes shifted to a murky grayish-green, and he straightened his legs so he rose to his full height. “I’m sorry,” Justin said quickly. “I wasn’t thinking. Forget it.”

“No... no. I asked. That came from your gut.”

Justin snorted. “It came from somewhere.”

Brian smirked. “Yeah, right.” He studied Justin for a long moment, before leaning down, and capturing his lips between his own. He knew exactly the tone Justin would want set, just what he needed, and the first touch of lips was tentative, sweet, and Brian swept his tongue across the fullness of Justin’s bottom lip. He heard a soft gasp, just before Justin moved his own tongue to meet Brian’s, and slid across it to the sensitive flesh just inside his mouth. The kiss deepened, Justin moving his hands around Brian’s waist and pulling their bodies hard up together. He pushed his erection into the length of Brian’s thigh, felt the answering hardness press into his stomach. His hands dipped under the material of Brian’s tank top, fingertips caressing the softness of the skin at the small of his back. Warm and smooth. Brian’s tongue pressed insistently into his mouth, his teeth nipping at Justin’s lips as he pulled away to gasp, “Bed.” They stumbled up the steps, Justin tugging the shirt over Brian’s head as Brian sat down on the edge of the bed, Justin moving between his legs, his arms on Brian’s shoulders. He loved to stand between Brian’s legs while he sat; it made him feel so tall. And so in control. Justin moved his hands to card through Brian’s hair, down his neck to rest on his shoulders as he stared into his face. God, he was so beautiful, Justin thought. Brian sat still, looking up, offering himself to Justin’s perusal. High cheekbones, straight nose, full lips, perfect jaw line, and up to those gorgeous eyes gone deep green, the pupils almost fully dilated with desire. Justin found his gaze moving past the individual features to take in Brian’s overall aspect, and an openness that Brian turned only to him, only in these moments, this lack of guardedness that normally shielded him from close inspection. He waited while Justin studied him, until a small, genuine smile lifted the corner of his lips. “Like what you see?” he asked.

“Oh, god, Brian. You know I do,” Justin answered, but the question and answer broke the moment, whatever it had been, and he leaned forward, pressing Brian back onto the bed, crawling over him. His palm swept the length of Brian’s torso, down to his belly, pulling the zipper on his jeans, his mouth moving to his chest and surrounding Brian’s nipple, his teeth latching on to hold it in place while his tongue moved out to flick against the hard nub, teasing his tongue against the sensitive tip beneath it. At Brian’s moan, Justin pulled lightly with his teeth, gratified by the increase in sound below him, then let go only to suck gently at first, then harder. His fingers traced circles around Brian’s ribs, moving lower, and his mouth followed, down his torso, tongue scraping skin, leaving a damp trail behind him. Sitting up on his knees, he slid off the bed to stand again, tugging at Brian’s jeans. Brian lifted himself as Justin slid his jeans down, baring him completely. He quickly threw off his own shirt, and unbuttoned his own pants with shaking fingers as Brian watched, laughing slightly. “Need help?” he offered.

“Oh, god, yes,” Justin answered, but managed to yank his pants down even as Brian reached for him. He pushed Brian arms back, and dropped onto the bed next to him again, his lips attaching to Brian’s hip, wholly conscious of the erection just barely brushing his cheek. Brian lifted his hips, moving himself closer, but Justin placed his hand on the side of his pelvis and held him down.

Lifting his head, he looked down the lean belly, trim hips, and finally at the cock rising full and hard, the large vein throbbing at its center. His gaze continued down to Brian’s balls, hanging heavy, swollen with lust, stirring with desire. Beautiful, so fucking beautiful.

“Like what you see?” This time the question was not so humorous, but soft, and Justin glanced swiftly upward to see Brian’s gaze steadily on him.

In answer, he bent down and captured the head of Brian’s penis in his mouth, holding it there so that his lips pressed, firm and gentle, holding him in the space of his mouth, warmed by his breath but untouched by anything but the lips that held him still. He felt as much as heard Brian’s increased breathing, and the throbbing of his heart expanding the girth of his cock, and only then did he bring the tip of his tongue to barely graze a whisper of touch to the side of the nerve that ran the length of him.

“Shit… Justin… Fuck.” The groan above him was like music, and he shifted his lips across his skin, increasing the sensation he brought to bear. He brought his hand to cup beneath Brian’s balls, holding them gently, curling his hand inward, feeling their fullness, the warm, rough skin loosely resting in his palm. His mouth descended, taking more of the length in as his tongue pressed firmly down the hard shaft, then back up to curl around the tip, his lips dragging moistly upward with his tongue. Brian’s hands moved from gripping the covers of the bed, into Justin’s hair, grasping the strands before moving to press against his skull, urging him down, harder. Justin resisted the push, continuing his movements up and then down, alternating, his tongue pulling against the side, then up to the tip to linger there, swirling lazily about the head and picking up speed before descending again and almost taking in the entire length, suppressing his gag reflex as Brian’s cock pushed at the back of his throat. He felt desire swell within him, and rutted against Brian’s leg, his own body desperate for attention. But Justin was more intent on satisfying Brian, Brian who was lifting his hips in a regular rhythm, holding Justin’s head in place as he ground toward the feeling encased in Justin’s mouth, and tongue, descending as far into the warm, wet depths as he could.

The disappointed groan when Justin lifted his mouth was audible, and Brian arched his body almost involuntarily as Justin wrapped his hand around his cock. One of his balls was taken in Justin’s lips, and he sucked lightly, first one, then the other. Brian’s hand covered Justin’s over his dick, and began to move it more rapidly, but Justin stopped altogether, and raised his head from his ministrations. “Don’t cum,” Justin admonished, before returning to the slower pace he had set.

Brian took three quick breaths, and then one long one; he gave over to Justin completely, covering his face with his hands, stilling his need to urge his partner on.

Justin moved to nip at the skin at the top of his thigh, lifting Brian’s leg and setting his foot further up the bed, his knee cocked. He did the same with the other leg, pushing back on his thighs so Brian’s weight shifted onto his lower back, forcing his body to bow up. He returned to Brian’s penis, licking up the shaft, taking the head in his mouth, descending, waiting for Brian to begin responding again before he moved his mouth away, and licked down the hard length, past his balls, and lower. He pushed his legs back, and briefly looked up. Brian’s arms rested above his head, his body open, head thrown back, eyes closed, waiting. His chest rose and fell with short, shallow breaths. Justin looked down again, and moved between his legs.

He touched the entrance to Brian’s body with his tongue, tentatively, grazing the tip briefly across the flesh before moving off to the side, to nuzzle, and then suck on the flesh at the crease just where his thigh met his buttocks. His hands continued to stroke Brian’s cock, gently, and firmly by alteration, swiping his thumb across the leaking tip, ensuring Brian continued to pulse upward into his finger’s touch. He moved his lips, his mouth covering Brian’s opening, licking across it, then up the flesh just beneath the balls, then back down, to push inward, a thick trail of saliva following his tongue inward. He heard Brian gasp again, and squeezed his cock lightly with his hand as his other moved from pushing back on his thigh, to bring his forefinger to the puckered entrance, and gently pushed inward.

He could feel the moment that passion bled into apprehension, and looked up to Brian’s face. His eyes were squeezed shut. Something in the tightening of his body, something in the change of his breath, something was not right. Justin knew immediately what was happening.

He withdrew his fingers, and moved his hands to pet down Brian’s thighs, even as he kissed the skin his hands had just soothed, and then the nerve that traced between Brian’s legs up to his balls, and up his dick, still firm, though not quite so hard as it had been only moments before. He paused to lick his way around Brian’s bellybutton, nipped at his nipple on his continued ascent, before he buried his head in the crook between Brian’s shoulder and neck. He pulled their bodies together, and couldn’t help rutting slightly against Brian’s thigh. His cock was feeling terribly neglected, still full and heavy, and the need to grind against this man’s body was close to irresistible. But he was sure his movements were slow and steady; Brian could halt everything with a word.

“Justin…”

“Do you want to stop? We can stop,” Justin said, willing his body to still. Brian rolled on his side, and put his arm around Justin’s waist, pulling him in. He rolled his hips around, rubbing Justin’s cock against his stomach, making it impossibly harder.

“I don’t want to stop,” Brian answered. He moved his hand onto Justin’s ass, grasping the flesh and squeezing. His eyes fluttered shut, and he bit his lips inward. “Just, hold on a second.”

God, that felt good, Justin thought. His body throbbed, and he resonated with the desire that pulsated through him, shooting from the head of his dick, sending frissons of excitement down his thighs and back up, circling around, up his ass, to the small of his back. He trembled with it. “I’m not going to… Brian,” he reassured his partner. He knew what Brian was saying. It was no good; Brian wasn’t ready. Maybe he never would be. And that was just fine. Justin reached over his head to the top of the bed where the condoms were stashed, and took out a foil packet along with the lubricant. Sitting up, he squeezed a liberal amount of lube out onto his fingers, and reached behind himself to roll his fingers around his anus, relaxing easily into the sensation which his body was begging for, anyway. The cold tensed him up, but only for a moment.

He threw the tube aside, and ripped open the condom packet, before straddling Brian’s legs. Brian’s hands descended onto his thighs as Justin leaned forward to roll the condom over Brian’s dick, which surged up into his hand as he realized Justin’s intent. Justin leaned forward, pulling himself up Brian’s body, his legs dropping apart to spread over Brian’s hips. He moved himself into position, and pushed down, releasing his knees and descending, the pleasure and pain jolting up into his spine as Brian’s cock slid fully up into him. The breath whooshed out of his lungs.

They paused for a moment, as Justin adjusted to the feeling of Brian filling him. Brian pulled him down to lay flush against his body. He moved his hands to Justin’s ass, and caressed the flesh there before gathering it in his palms, and thrusting up hard. His hands shifted to pull down on Justin’s flanks and hold him in place. Justin held on, pushing back against the hard, hot length driving into him, whimpering with the feeling of Brian inside him, touching off the intense, familiar sensations.

Not enough. With a growl, Brian rolled Justin onto his back, pushing his legs back. His pelvis ground down to the flesh beneath him, his legs moving restlessly against the bed as he attempted to move further upward, arching into the need to satisfy the restless craving shooting through his body, the desire to thrust into the body beneath his, to never stop.

“Fuck… Brian, god,” Justin cried out, his dick rubbing against Brian’s stomach, the sensation building to climax.

Brian leaned all the way in, licked the skin at the base of Justin’s neck, nipping at the flesh. But a particularly strong sensation ripped through his body on the downstroke, and he tightened his grip on Justin’s flanks and bit down, his teeth claiming a hold on Justin’s nape. The immediate pain connected through Justin’s body, and Justin came, screaming. His ass clamped down, and Brian thrust forward, and forward again, and climaxed, emptying himself deep in Justin’s body.

Then Brian collapsed, and Justin’s legs fell apart, Brian firmly ensconced in his body, his teeth still attached to Justin’s neck. He let go, and looked down at the bite mark on his lover’s nape, before kissing the wound, licking across it, and kissing it again. Then he rolled to the side, taking Justin with him.

They lay there for a some long moments, quietly, before Brian realized Justin had dozed off. He allowed himself the luxury of staying inside Justin for a few moments, Justin’s body a warm weight against his. Finally, he pulled out, and Justin stirred, and grimaced, watching Brian tie off the condom and throw it away. “I hate that part,” he smiled, pulling his legs back from Brian’s, but shifting to rest his head more comfortably against Brian’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you do.” They lay for a long while, staring at each other. Finally, Brian said, “I would have let you.”

“I know. You didn’t want to.”

Brian watched him.

“I find it really weird that you urge me all the time to be selfish, when you really aren’t.”

“But I am.”

Justin shook his head. “But you aren’t.” He sat up, and winced. “I love being fucked by you, Brian, I’ll bottom for you for the rest of my life. It’s no hardship for me.”

“They found more victims.”

Justin was silent for a moment, absorbing this sudden change in subject. “What?” Justin did not move his head to look Brian’s way.

Brian had flung an arm over his eyes. It was easier to discuss this blind. “They tied the guy who attacked me to the guy who killed that Rafferty guy, to the West Village club murders in New York.”

Nothing. Justin didn’t say anything, just sat with his back turned.

“Apparently, the Pittsburgh police are debating whether to release this information, and if so, how much.”

“But the guy’s still out there.”

“Bingo.”

Justin moved then, laying his body next to Brian’s, pulling Brian’s arm away from his eyes and turning his head so that Brian was forced to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I know.” He traced the mark at Justin’s nape. “I bit you.”

“I know. Brian…”

Brian sighed, his hand dropping from Justin’s neck. “Can we not talk about this?”

Justin nodded, pursed his lips, and got up to walk into the bathroom. On his way, he called back, “Oh, I decided to sue the fuck out of Hobbes’ dad. Fuck his offer.”

He moved through the doorway, but stopped at Brian’s next words, “Fuck Hobbes’ dad, why don’t you sue St. James?”

Justin froze momentarily, then turned around as Brian approach him. He laughed in astonishment. “Holy shit! I didn’t even think of that.”

Brian rolled his eyes, and asked, “How long do you have left to file? Is the statute of limitations expired?”

“Still have about a week, actually. I think. Two years from the incident, I’m pretty sure Mel said. That was what, June 8th?”

Brian knew damn well what that date was, but he ignored the question. “A good attorney can play with the exact date, might even get it from the moment charges were officially pressed, or even conviction, such as it was. That would give you a lot more wiggle room.” Brian said, moving around Justin and turning on the shower. “The first thing we’re doing tomorrow is getting you a new lawyer. One who’ll know what she’s doing. Who'll file the lawsuit against that piece of shit school tomorrow afternoon.”

“But Mel…”

“Is the worst attorney I know.” Brian stepped into the spray, letting the water soak his hair. He stepped out of the way so Justin could join him.

Justin let the water run over him, humming in contentment when Brian doused the mesh sponge with liquid soap, and ran it over his shoulders and down his chest, cupping his penis and sac to gently massage them, letting the suds run down his skin to the drain.

Brian continued, “And after we do that, I’m going to go visit a reporter I know, and leak some confidential information.”

Justin moved in closer as Brian’s hands continued to wash him, pulling the sponge around to his buttocks. Their stomachs met, and Justin felt the twinge between his legs turn into a throb. “Yeah?” he murmured against Brian’s chest, licking his clavicle and resting his hands on Brian’s lower back.

“Yeah.” Brian dropped the sponge; they were only about to get dirty again. And then they were kissing, and tomorrow could wait.