Previously:

Brian reached over to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel the warmth of Justin by his side. He hand touched cold sheets and an obviously unslept in bed.

Shit. How many times have I told Justin not to fall asleep in the studio. He almost caught Pneumonia last year when he slept out in the cold. I better go drag his sorry ass inside. Brian pulled the blankets off his legs, swinging them to the side of the bed. He pulled on some sweats and walked downstairs. There were several boxes sitting on the floor by the back door and Justin's favorite coffee mug was on top.

Brian slid to the floor, being held up by the wall. Fresh tears flowed down his cheeks. Justin, what have I done? He asked himself as the never ending reel of the trick vied for his attention. 'You've got a lovely cock and I'd love to suck you off again. The other night was hot. You've got a lovely cock and I'd love to suck you off again. The other night was hot.' "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT OF MY HEAD," he yelled to the room. Unfortunately, his yelling failed to turn his mind off.

Chapter 14

Brian heard the door open and realized that Rosa had arrived for the day. Wanting to avoid contact with her, he walked up the back stairs and returned to his bedroom. He ran his hands through his hair and put his head in his hands. I stink.

Walking into the bathroom, he turned on the water as hot as he could stand it and got under the spray. He scrubbed his skin, hoping to wash away his guilt and current nightmare, but like Macbeth, he was unsuccessful. He shaved, brushed his teeth and got dressed, only to sit on the bed again. He looked at the clock, noticing it was almost 10:00. Of course, Rosa comes at 9:00.

He went downstairs, grabbed a coffee and sat down to read the morning paper. Rosa offered to make him an egg white omelet and Brian said ‘yes'. He ate the omelet, not tasting it, but determined to act normally.

"Will you be working from home today, Mr. Kinney?" Rosa asked.

"Yes. I'll be in my study if you need me." He grabbed his coffee mug and retreated to his study. He opened his computer to review his email. Staring at the computer screen, he realized he had only read three messages in the last half hour. Picking up the Targus file, he reviewed the new slides the art department had developed for the summer campaign. He made a few notes for corrections and returned to his email. This time he was able to concentrate enough to get through twenty of them before he heard the unmistakable sound of the back door opening.
____________

The rumbling of Justin's stomach woke him up the second time that morning. He stretched, moving his arms above his head. I gotta take a piss. After throwing on his sweats, he went to the bathroom, washed his hands and brushed his teeth. Brian is going to be so pissed at me for sleeping out here. I wonder if he's left for work and I can sneak back into the house without his noticing. He looked toward his latest canvas and eyed all the boxes. "Shit," he said out loud. "The more important question is, what am I going to do?"

Walking back into the bathroom, he eyed the shower. I'm so glad that Brian convinced me to have a full bathroom out here. He always teased me about which one had more paint at the end of the day--me or the canvas. I used to strip in front of him, knowing he wouldn't appreciate paint on his Armani suits. He'd watch me do my little strip tease, his eyes dancing with amusement as my body was unveiled, almost like it was a new thing, me stripping. Fresh tears rolled down Justin's cheeks as he realized he needed help to bathe. Quit crying. If Brian were here, he'd laugh and call me a lesbian... Screw Brian! I can cry if I want to, and this time he hurt me so bad. Justin grabbed a wash cloth, gave himself a quick wash and then got dressed.

There were no clocks in the small studio, so he called time and temperature. It was almost 1:00 p.m. I'm sure Brian's at work. He grabbed his coat since it was still early February, and even the short walk to the house could be cold. He opened the kitchen door, eying the few boxes he had left in the foyer.

"Hi Rosa," he said as the housekeeper looked at him from her place by the stove.

"I'm making Chicken Marsala. I know that is one of Mr. Kinney's favorites. He's working from home today and since it tastes better fresh, I thought today would be good to make it. Would you like me to make you some pancakes?" she asked.

Shit. Brian's here. I don't want to run into him. Shaking his head no, Justin answered, "I'll take some coffee and a bagel. You're busy and I don't want to interrupt you." He poured a cup of coffee and took a bagel from the bag on the counter. "Can you have Carson bring my dinner to the studio? I'll be busy with a piece and I don't want to ruin your creation," Justin said casually.

"Of course. I'll send Carson with a snack for you. I know a bagel will not hold you until dinner, Mr. Taylor." Justin gave Rosa a small smile and left with his food.

____________________
That must be Justin. Wonder if he'll come looking for me? Brian attempted to continue working, but his heart rate increased and he found himself sweating at the thought of the possible confrontation. He listened to see if he could understand any of the conversation, but he knew the soundproofing he'd put in was doing its job. He heard the door open and close again, realizing Justin must have left. A mixed sense of relief and anguish washed over his body as he realized that Justin was here and chose not to talk to him.

He returned to his work and managed to keep busy for the remainder of the day. Rosa brought him a turkey sandwich in the early afternoon, and he mindlessly ate it without tasting it. Rosa knocked on the office door at 6:00.

"Mr. Kinney, I'm going to leave for the evening. The chicken will be ready in half an hour. I've set the timer so you'll know when to shut off the oven and not allow it to overcook. Mr. Taylor asked Carson to deliver his dinner, so I assume you'll be dining alone. Enjoy the evening." She picked up her coat and bid Brian farewell for the night.

Brian nodded as she left. Justin is having Carson deliver his meals. At least he's eating. Brian finished reviewing the file and shut down his computer. When he heard the oven beep, he turned it off and buzzed for Carson, telling him that Justin's food was ready. Carson prepared a plate for Justin and asked if he could make one for Brian.

"No, I'll eat later. It's a little early for me. Put the leftovers away."

Carson left with Justin's food and Brian went to the media room. Sitting on the couch, he was assaulted by his memories. "The other night, after the... when the para... fuck it. I was drunk, went to Babylon and got sucked off by some trick. The other night, after the... when the para... fuck it. I was drunk, went to Babylon and got sucked off by some trick. The other night, after the... when the para... fuck it. I was drunk, went to Babylon and got sucked off by some trick." Quickly standing, he stumbled out of the room, trying to escape.

Returning to his home office, he walked to the bar, pouring himself a shot of Beam. Without thinking, he drank the shot and poured two more in quick succession. He felt the warmth and burn of the liquor course through his body. He started to pour another shot, but he heard Justin's voice in his head. 'Shit, Brian. You can't go back to your old ways. I thought you were over using drugs and alcohol to escape your pain.' "Obviously, I haven't learned my lesson, Justin. Drinking is still my choice of pain management," Brian said out loud. Fuck, now I'm talking when he can't hear me. How appropriate. Brian poured another shot, but when he brought it to his lips, he put the glass down on the table and walked out of the room.

Returning to the bedroom, he lay down on top of the blankets, closing his eyes as he willed the liquor to do its job. Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, he undressed and got under the covers, only to dream of the trick at Woody's. He woke in the morning, drenched in sweat.

After showering and completing his morning routine, he went to the kitchen, where he poured a cup of coffee and put some bread into the toaster. Rosa came in while he was reaching for a plate of toast.

"Morning, Mr. Kinney. How was the chicken? Will you be working from home today as well?"

"I wasn't hungry. I will be working from home again today." Brian picked up the newspaper and read it while he ate his toast. He drank a second cup of coffee and retreated to his study.

There were several emails from Ted regarding the upcoming summer campaign for Brown Athletics. Shit. Can't he handle even the littlest detail? Brian slammed down his hand in frustration. What the fuck. He's doing the job I'm paying him to do. It's not his fucking fault that I choose to work from home.

Brian left his study, returning a short time later in his gray Prada suit.

"Rosa, I'm going to the office. I don't know when I'll be home." He grabbed his keys and went out the garage to his car.

The garage could be seen from Justin's studio and he heard the door go up as Brian left. Typical Brian, business as usual.

Brian drove to Kinnetik, grateful that he could stop thinking of the past few weeks and immerse himself in work. Walking into the reception area, he saw Justin's painting and a fresh stab of pain washed over him. He painted that after we won the Clio for the Bally's campaign. He told me since I only celebrated successes, this was his way of celebrating with me. Will we ever celebrate again?

Cynthia came out of Ted's office. "Brian, I didn't think you were coming in today."

"Theodore emailed me some concerns regarding the new Brown account that had to be addressed. I do pay him handsomely for his talents, but I am still the CEO of this company," Brian quipped and walked toward Ted's office.

"Theodore." Brian announced without knocking. "I see you have questions regarding the Brown account."

Ted put down the file he was reviewing and looked at Brian. He looks tired, worn out. I know better than to ask. "Hi Brian." He pulled out the files on the account and they spent the next three hours on the campaign.

"You're a genius, Brian. It's a good thing you run the company because if you worked for someone else, I'm sure the competition would be knocking down your door trying to hire you."

"Of course, I'm brilliant. That's why the agency is called Kinnetik. I'll be in my office if you need anything else."

"Bri, what about lunch? Want to join me at the diner?" Ted asked innocently.

Brian winced at the mention of the diner. "I'll pass. If Debbie sees me, she'll give me the third degree about our absence the other night and I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course," Ted said as he grabbed his coat and nodded his head in understanding. "If you do want to talk..." Ted began his sentence.

Brian cut him off. "I'm not Mel and Lindsey. I don't want to talk. Now go, before I decide that you have outlived your usefulness to my company."

"Of course, Brian. Sorry Brian," Ted stammered and left quickly.

Cynthia popped her head in when Brian returned to his office. "Michael stopped by yesterday. He came to show you his new heel stump. I told him I'd tell him you he came by," Cynthia explained.

"I'll call him. Now leave. I have work to do. Kinnetik doesn't run itself." Cynthia smiled and walked away. Brian spent the remainder of the afternoon reading emails and proofing work from the art department.

Cynthia came in to his office later on. "It's 7:00 and I'm leaving. Do you want me to lock up or are you going to be here for a while?"

Brian looked up from the file he was reading and put it back on his desk. "I'll leave now and we can lock up."

Cynthia grabbed her coat and handed Brian his as well. "Will you be in tomorrow? Tom, the new ad exec, has been doing some phenomenal work and I think you'd like to see some of it," she casually mentioned as she set the alarm.

"I'll probably be in tomorrow. Justin can handle things on his own," Brian answered as he walked Cynthia to her car.

Brian hadn't eaten since the morning and he was hungry. He didn't want to go to the diner, but he didn't want to go home either. He chose a Thai restaurant that he and Justin often ordered from when they were in town. It was good food and not too many carbs for his regimented diet. He ordered Garlic Shrimp and quickly ate the food. He left a generous tip for the waiter and drove home.

He wanted a drink and grabbed the bottle after he hung up his coat and put his keys away. Making his way to the bedroom, he loosened his tie as he climbed the stairs and unbuttoned his pants. This is so familiar. Coming home from work, loosening my tie and pants before I get to the bedroom. So often, I would call and let Justin know I was leaving the office and he would be waiting on the bed when I arrived. Not tonight. There will be no one there when I come home.

Brian reached his room, hung up his suit and redressed in jeans and a wife beater. He propped some pillows on the bed and flipped on the TV. Clicking on the set, he flipped channels until he saw Rebel without a Cause was playing on AMC. He opened the bottle and drank from it rather than finding a glass. Quoting the movie, almost line for line, Brian managed to escape his world for another evening.
****
"So... business as usual," Vic asked as he sat on the bed.

"Fuck! Can't a man get some privacy in his sleep?"

"Didn't much look like sleeping to me. More like a wrestling match and the bed was winning," Vic observed with a wry smile.

Brian looked at the bed, seeing that the sheets were askew and the blankets were pulled out. "Guess I'm having a rough time sleeping."

"You told Justin," Vic stated, the concern evident on his face.

"Yeah." Brian ran his fingers over his face and squinted his eyes. "Then he promptly called Carson and moved his stuff to his studio.""I see." Vic looked at Brian, waiting for him to continue, but when Brian said nothing, Vic continued. "What are you going to do?"

"Do?"

"Yes, do? Are you going to talk to him?"

"I don't think he'll talk to me. He left. The ball's in his court."

"How do you know unless you try? Are you just going to give up? That doesn't sound like the Brian Kinney I know. The Brian Kinney I know fights for what he cares about, and the last time I looked he cared a great deal for one Justin Taylor."

"I don't know if that's enough this time. I screwed up."

"So, that's it. You just give up your relationship because you screwed up?"

Brian looked at Vic, seeing the caring and love the older man had for him. He felt a glimmer of hope. "I don't want to give up, but..."

"But... You think you're the first man to ever screw up. Sorry Brian, you don't get to have that prize," Vic chastised him.

"We've been together for sixteen years and I haven't been with anyone else since he came back from New York seven years ago. Will he be able to forgive me, trust me again?"

"I'm not the one you should be asking these questions to, Brian. You have to talk to Justin. He loves you and you know that. You love him."

"But is it enough? I really screwed up."

"Brian Kinney, you're your own worst enemy. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

Brian ran his hand through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He could tell me no."

"Okay. Now what's the best he could do?"

"He could forgive me and move back home," Brian said wistfully.

"There you have it; the worst and best case scenarios. The actuality is probably somewhere in between. You screwed up and you have to make the first move."

"Vic..."

"Yeah."

"I thought you couldn't come see me anymore," Brian questioned.

"I didn't think I'd ever be needed again, but unfortunately you proved me wrong. I'm back. Now if you don't want to see my sorry face again, go fix this.""Thanks Vic."

"Bye, Brian." Vic said as he got off the bed and made his way out the door.

Brian pulled the covers over his chilled body and slept the remainder of the night.

_____
After spending the previous day unpacking boxes and setting up his new home, Justin was sore. He rarely worked out, something Brian ribbed him about. 'One of these days, that bubble butt of yours will expand and you'll be sorry you didn't go to the gym', Brian would often tell him. He knew Brian was half-serious and half-jealous of his youth. After eying Brian leaving, he decided that he would go to the main house and take a soak in the hot tub.

He walked to the main house and asked Rosa to make him an omelet and some bacon. He ate his food and went to the hot tub, carefully keeping his arm out of the water, where he soaked for a half an hour. As he got out, he eyed a pair of Brian's Prada loafers.

It struck him as odd since Brian was so fastidious about putting his things away. As he dried off, he walked over to the shoes so he could pick them up and put them back in the bedroom. He remembered the last time they used the hot tub. It was right before the accident. He had drawn a lot of pictures for the art show and his neck, shoulders and hand were all sore. He had retreated to the hot tub and when Brian came home, he decided to join him. He had left his shoes in the far corner of the room, away from all the water and splashing that frequently occurred when the two of them got together in the hot tub. They had kissed and fondled each other for a long time, and then Brian gave him a hand job. They had dried off quickly afterward and retreated to the bedroom, where Brian nailed him to the mattress several times before they both fell asleep.

Evidently they both had forgotten about the shoes. Justin brought the shoes to the bedroom, placing them in their rightful place in Brian's closet. Inhaling the familiar scent of Brian's cologne, he felt a calm wash over him, but when he turned to leave the closet, he remembered Brian's betrayal and wondered if happiness would ever find him again. He didn't know how long Brian would be gone and he didn't want to see him. He gathered the book he'd been reading, his iPod, and his asthma medication. It wouldn't do to have an attack and have to call Brian to rescue him.

Turning out of their bedroom, Justin made his way back downstairs. Stopping at the media room, he chose a few movies and picked up half a dozen CD's from his collection, and then returned to his self-imposed exile.

He took a nap in the afternoon, making up for the poor sleep from the night before. The little good light this time of year had faded, so his opportunity to paint by daylight was forfeited for the day. He turned on the artificial lighting he had installed last year and moved to the computer, attempting to create a new picture. Touching the screen, he began drawing with dark browns, blacks and angry streaks of red. No particular shape formed on the screen, but he kept up the slightly therapeutic exercise for at least an hour before his hand tired and he had to quit.

He rang the house, asking Carson to bring his dinner, and ate it while he watched reruns of Dr. Who. He went to bed a little after 11:00.

The next morning Justin woke up and scratched his head. His whole body itched and he realized that he hadn't had a decent shower for several days. He did soak in the hot tub, but he didn't rinse off afterwards, and now his skin was reacting to the chlorine and lack of a good shower. Shit. I'm not about to ask Brian to give me a shower. I could ask Daphne but she's a woman and I think she would draw the line. Carson is the houseman and I can't ask him. My mom is out. Who could I ask?

He picked up his phone and dialed the number. "Hey Em. How are you?"

"Hi Baby. I'm just fabulous. I've been meaning to come out to see you, but between catering and keeping up with Drew..."

"It's okay, Em. I understand. What are you doing today?"

"Not much. Drewsie had to go out of town again for a photo shoot. Why don't I come see you today?"

"That would be great. I'll probably be in my studio, so come out back instead of going to the main house."

"Sure sweetie. Why don't I bring you some fabulous muffins and a picnic lunch. We can spend the day together."

"Sounds good. I'll see you in about an hour." Justin hung up the phone.

"Ted Schmidt," Ted answered as he hit the button to open his email.

"Teddy, I'm on my way to Britin. Justin called and asked what I was doing? Do you think he knows? I won't say a word, but if he asks..." Emmett gathered a half dozen blueberry and cranberry muffins and put them in a muffin tray for easy transport.

"Emmett, I know you can keep a secret when it's important, and this is important. If he says something about the other night, just listen. Can you do that?" Ted typed in his password three times before getting the code correct.

"My butterflies are having butterflies. I'm so nervous," Emmett shared with his best friend. He'd been baking some chocolate cookies when Justin called so he took them off the cooling rack and placed them in a zip lock bag. "Brian has been really good to everyone and I'm sure if anything is happening, they will work it out. They have to Teddy." Opening the meat drawer, he grabbed an assortment of meats and cheeses, placing them in the cooler as well as some of his famous pear and cheese balls.

"Calm down. We don't want Justin getting any ideas either. He's probably just lonely, with Brian working all the time and he's unable to paint. He just wants a distraction." Ted clicked on the first email from the art department. Reading it, he realized that he needed to take care of some supply orders or the department would run out of foam boards by next week. "Look, Em. You'll be fine. I have work to do. Call me tonight."

"Bye Teddy. Thanks." Em gathered up his cooler and his picnic basket, put on his coat, and loaded his car. On the turn off to Britin, Emmett thought he recognized Brian's car. It was a little late for Brian to be leaving, but he was glad that Brian wouldn't be there when he met with Justin. He remembered Justin said to go in the back where he had his studio. He gathered his food and made his way there, knocking on the door with his foot as he didn't have an empty hand.

Justin heard the knock, opened the door and let Emmett in.

Emmett walked to the table, placing his food on it. "That's better. My arms were starting to get tired. I guess I need to find time to go to the gym again." He grinned and turned around noticing the chaos. "Oh my! There are so many boxes here. It looks like moving day," Emmett remarked as he waved his arm in a semi-circular arc.

Justin plopped on the futon, taking several deep breaths to stay off the tears. "Oh Emmett," he said, as the tears fell down his cheeks. "It is."

Emmett gathered Justin in his arms and allowed the man to cry.

TBC