Three weeks later, June 2002...

Brian sat behind Gus on the floor of the loft, supporting himself on one arm, his knee bent at the boy's side. A couple of sheets of paper were spread out in front of them. Grabbing the pencil with his free hand and giving it to his son, Brian suggested, "Here. Use the yellow one."

He helped the toddler grab onto the large yellow pencil and guided his hand on the blank paper. Gus squealed when the tip of the pencil connected to the paper, leaving a small mark on it. The little boy did it again, before doodling furiously on the page.

"Easy..." Brian stopped him with a laugh, since Gus' ample movements were now threatening to color the wooden floor. "You can use another one. Here." He picked up the green pencil and gave it to Gus, who seemed to question whether or not he wanted to use it before accepting it to complete his artwork.

Brian stared as Gus dotted, amused. The boy was now sporadically tapping his pencil on the paper, leaving small spots everywhere. "Hmm..." Brian hummed, inwardly questioning Gus' intentions.

That was when Gus decided that the floor seemed to be a wonderful place to draw too.

"Gus, no," Brian reprimanded him, grabbing the pencil, which resulted in the toddler squealing in frustration. "No," the brunet repeated. "If you want to use it, color on the paper. Not on the floor."

Gus gazed up at his father with those eyes.

Brian burst out laughing. "Try again," he advised, standing up to go in search of a wet sponge before coming back and erasing all traces of Gus' mischief.

It had been three weeks since he saw Justin. He had ignored all his calls, having learned his lesson the hard way, his ego having suffered the biggest blow of his life. He should have seen it coming, truthfully, but he hadn't and that pissed him off.

Justin was persistent. He had called him so many times that Brian was surprised he was still trying, although the calls had decreased. No surprise there since Brian had never answered them, much less listened to the numerous messages Justin had left on his cell. Whatever bullshit excuse Justin wanted to give him, Brian didn't want to hear it. In fact, he didn't want to hear about Justin anymore, determined to never see him again.

It wasn't as easy as it should have been, though. Brian couldn't help his thoughts from drifting to that night, time and time again. It was annoying, counterproductive, and useless. But even though he was trying as hard as he could to forget about Justin, he had failed so far, which was ironic since he didn't mean to care in the first place.

Only time would help ease the pain and betrayal. In the meantime, Brian spent a lot of time with his son. Gus' presence was the only thing in his life that made sense these days. Not that he wasn't grateful for his friends too, but things had been a little tense lately. The last time he had met with them at Debbie's customary Saturday dinner, it didn't go well. Michael had kept asking questions about his relationship with Justin; Ted spent his time commenting about Justin bringing out his ‘hetero' side; and Emmett downright teased him for being a ‘closet romantic case' who needed to come out. Needless to say, Brian had lost it, yelling at all of them before storming out of Debbie's house. Since that day, he had met them a couple of times, but while they avoided bringing Justin up again - they valued their balls too much for that - Brian hadn't been in the mood to listen to their gossip or to entertain them with juicy stories about his clients. Moreover, he didn't go out as much anymore because he needed to refrain from drinking or doing recreational drugs in order to be ready for Gus' transplant, which would hopefully take place in a few months.

So, almost all of Brian's free time revolved around his son.

Lindsay had stayed home with Gus ever since the diagnosis to deal with everyday matters. Melanie was working a lot to help with their financial situation, which strained their relationship. Both women were extremely tired and stressed by their son's condition, not to mention that Brian was now a part of their life too. He had slept at their house quite frequently over the last year, since the three of them needed to look after Gus while he was dialyzed during the night, at least thrice a week. While his presence helped keep his friends from succumbing to exhaustion, Brian knew it was still difficult for Melanie. Before Gus' diagnosis, they hadn't been able to abide each other. They'd had to call a truce and stand together to help their son.

Gus' disease had changed Brian. It had changed his vision of life and mortality. Gone was the carefree, proud, gay man who didn't give a shit about anyone but himself. His needs didn't come first anymore. He wouldn't be an escort if not for this damn disease. But anytime Brian looked at his son, he had no regrets.

He couldn't wait for Gus' surgery to be scheduled. Brian hoped for a life where he wouldn't have to witness his son being sick and exhausted from his treatments and diet. Most days were okay, but when his little boy suffered, the brunet wanted to kill the rulers of the universe for allowing any of this to happen. The doctors were optimistic that surgery would be possible in the next few months, as soon as Gus' abdomen was large enough to accept Brian's kidney. Its size could still be a problem, since Gus' heart would need to work harder for the kidney to function. The first year following the transplant would therefore be decisive.

Today was a good day. That was why Brian had brought Gus to the loft with him, so that Lindsay and Melanie could enjoy some time alone. He also planned to look after his son for the night since he didn't have any appointments scheduled with clients before the next evening.

"Da!" Gus exclaimed, lifting his arms.

"You want me to hold you? Come here," Brian responded, hefting his son from the floor.

Gus smiled weakly at his father. "Tire," he said, before putting his arms around Brian's neck and resting his head on his shoulder.

"You tired?" Brian questioned, placing a soft kiss in the toddler's hair. "Come on. Let's eat something before going home. I'm sleeping with you tonight," he whispered softly.

Gus didn't react to his words. It happened sometimes. One minute, Gus would be squealing and smiling, and the next, he would barely be able to keep his eyes open and would become sullen or cranky.

Realizing that eating would have to wait, Brian went to retrieve Gus' coat, grabbed his jacket, and picked up a bag he had prepared for his night at the munchers. He locked the door behind him, his son sound asleep in his arms.

"Careful," Brian slowly secured Gus in Melanie's arms before entering the house. "Where is Linds?"

"Still asleep," Melanie responded, indicating the door with a tilt of her head. Brian closed it, smirking at her. Melanie noticed and rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what Brian was implying with his stupid grin. "Don't you dare jump to conclusions."

"Me? Believe me, thinking about women having sex is not something I secretly jerk off to. Especially lesbian sex, with not a dick in sight," Brian quipped, before putting his bag down at the foot of the staircase. Looking back at his son, he informed Melanie, "He hasn't eaten dinner yet. He fell asleep after our drawing session."

Melanie peered down at the sleeping boy in her arms. "I'm going to lay him down in his bed for now."

"I'll go outside for a smoke," Brian responded, sliding his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket to retrieve his pack of Marlboros.

"You should really quit that shit," Melanie admonished as she began to ascend the stairs. She paused. "No need to have another sick Kinney."

"This is the last of my vices," Brian complained. At Melanie's pointed gaze, he specified, "I already gave up booze and drugs. Sex doesn't count. And no fun is bad for my health."

Melanie kept staring at him.

He snorted, "What? You think I'm kidding?" His brow furrowed as he selected one cigarette from the pack and placed it behind his ear.

"No," Melanie surprisingly responded. "What you're doing for Gus, giving him your kidney, is... amazing," she declared before clearing her throat, obviously uncomfortable, although Brian could see she was sincere.

"You would have done the same thing. It's no big deal," Brian immediately countered.

"No big deal, my ass," Melanie retorted. "You should be proud of yourself, Brian," she asserted, not giving him any time to react before ascending the remaining stairs to the second floor.

Brian frowned as he stared after her. Since when had Melanie become his personal cheerleader? And why should he give a fuck about what she thought anyway?

Brian headed towards the back door and stepped outside, retrieving a lighter from his pants. He lit his Marlboro and thought back to Melanie's words.

You should be proud of yourself.

His phone began to ring. Brian grabbed it from the back pocket of his pants and gazed at the name on the screen. Justin's name.

He hesitated briefly but finally hit the red button, sending it to voicemail. He then replaced it in his jeans and enjoyed the soothing effect of the smoke filling his lungs.

Several hours later...

Brian opened his eyes as he heard a lustful moan.

It took him a few seconds to comprehend where he was, but when he did, he straightened up immediately. Gazing around, his eyes traveled from the dialysis table to the sleeping boy lying on the small bed next to him. Brian was sitting on the twin bed placed by his son's.

Rubbing his eyes, the brunet leaned over to check if the little boy was still asleep, eyeing the connections and carefully lifting Gus' pajamas to make sure everything was in place and functioning properly. When he was sure that everything was okay, he replaced Gus' shirt before frowning at the door.

He was sure he hadn't been dreaming.

Realizing that he needed to pee, he stretched before getting up. Careful not to make too much noise, he exited his son's bedroom and was tiptoeing down the corridor when he heard that noise again.

He froze.

The door to the girls' bedroom was ajar, and in a few seconds, he would wish for the rest of his life that he had acquired the superpower to turn deaf and blind on command.

"Yeah... like that. Oh God, Mel! This is soo... ooooh!" Lindsay's raspy voice echoed through the room, unfortunately resonating in Brian's ear.

"Hmmmm," he heard Melanie react to her partner, apparently unable to speak. Brian winced as he forced himself not to think about what the bulldyke was probably doing to his friend.

He failed.

"Oh, yes! There, there! Melanie!" Lindsay cried out.

A turned-on Melanie responded to her wife's plea by moaning incessantly. Brian briefly considered dying and going to hell instead of listening to the munchers coupling - definitely the best idea he'd had in months. He grimaced, almost gagging at the sounds of pleasure filling his ears, hoping that somehow he would suffocate enough to pass out.

It didn't work. But his brain must have been deprived of some much-needed oxygen, since he nonetheless moved to open the door, ready to bark at the girls to tone it down. Before he could say anything, though, Lindsay exclaimed on a high, gasping note, "Melanie!"

Brian heard his friend reach satisfaction. Too loudly. Unfortunately, his brain - which was a traitor of the worst kind - chose that moment to focus his vision toward the bed. It was dark, sure, but not dark enough.

He saw a shape under the white sheet. Then, as his eyes traveled up, he discerned Melanie's head between Lindsay's legs.

Brian fervently wished he had fainted instead of having to deal with that traumatic image for the rest of his life.

"That's it!" Brian found his voice and snarled at his inconsiderate friends. How could they have allowed this to happen, submitting him to lesbian sex? The brunet really questioned whether they cared about his feelings at all. "First thing tomorrow morning, you're having the house soundproofed and a deadbolt installed on your bedroom door. I'm not kidding," he barked, not allowing them to respond before he slammed the door shut behind him.

Forgetting his need to use the restroom altogether, he ignored Lindsay's outraged voice calling his name, returned to the safety his son's bedroom provided, and lay down, highly traumatized. That night, he prayed to God for the first time since he was a teen, asking him to erase his memory of the last five minutes.

The next morning, Brian was in the kitchen when Lindsay appeared in the doorway. He refused to look at her as he replaced the carafe in the coffee maker before plopping down on a chair with a fresh cup of coffee in his hands.

Grabbing a bun from the bread basket, he gulped it down and chewed quickly. He hoped that Lindsay would take that as her cue, but as usual, she ignored his obvious wish to be left alone and greeted him politely.

"Did you sleep well?" Lindsay asked, as she went to pour herself a cup of coffee.

Un-fucking-believable.

Brian snorted sardonically as he grabbed five sugar cubes from a box, unwrapped them, dropped them down into his cup, and stirred the hot drink with a spoon. "Would you be able to sleep well if you had stumbled on Theodore fucking a ball-gagged Michael while using a whip on his booty?" he eventually responded to his friend's inquiry.

Lindsay grimaced, feigning indignation, unable to prevent a chuckle from escaping her lips. "Brian!"

"My point exactly. You're lucky I'm not suing your ass," he pointed out, taking several gulps of his coffee before adding with a straight face, "Or should I say, your pussy."

"Stop it!" She punched his arm as she took the seat next to him. "We weren't that loud."

Brian peered at her in disbelief. Was she for real? "You really should have your hearing checked. You're going deaf." He scowled. "But I'm not."

"And maybe you should tell me what happened with Justin," Lindsay countered unexpectedly.

Brian kept his mouth shut this time, suddenly fascinated by his almost empty cup of coffee.

Lindsay tried to capture his gaze, but Brian evaded her, gulping the last of his hot beverage. She sighed heavily before revealing, "The boys told me you brought him to Babylon a couple of weeks ago."

Brian frowned as he stared into his empty cup, bringing it to his lips as if he were just now drinking the last drop.

"That you two were very... close," Lindsay pushed.

Brian wanted to gag her for real now. Too bad Melanie hadn't thought about that the night before.

He turned the cup upside down instead.

"You slept with him, didn't you?"

Brian couldn't help it. He chuckled dryly.

"God. You did!" Lindsay exclaimed, surmising the truth from Brian's reaction.

Brian didn't want to listen to Lindsay patronizing him about how wrong he'd been to have sex with Justin, especially since she had explicitly asked him not to after his first appointment with Justin at the art show. No way he was going to take the blame for this. Standing up brusquely, he snapped, "You know what? I'm off."

He dropped his empty cup in the sink and was about to walk out of the kitchen when Lindsay asked, "But why?" It wasn't so much the question, but the tone of her voice that made him pause.

Brian turned around, glancing quizzically in her direction. "Why what?"

"You like him," Lindsay stated emphatically. "It's obvious you do or you wouldn't back off now. So why aren't you answering his calls?"

Brian stared at her, bewildered. How the fuck did she know about the calls?

Seeing her friend's astonishment, Lindsay explained, "Debbie told me. She saw him at the diner. He was a wreck, Brian."

Brian frowned, trying to understand what he'd just heard. He should have expected it. Ever since he left Justin's apartment, the young artist had stalked him through phone calls and messages, even contacting the agency. Justin must be feeling really desperate if he had now visited a place where they ate together only one time.

"You should really call him back," Lindsay suggested when Brian stayed silent for too long.

Brian glared at her. He didn't need his friend to interfere in his life, especially since she had no clue what had really happened between him and Justin. Moreover, knowing Debbie must have already concluded that it was all his fault pissed him off. Because of course it was always the escort's fault, right?  

Brian could feel himself getting angry now and snarled, "And you should mind your own business. But we don't always get what we want, do we?"

"Don't..." Lindsay began, but she was interrupted as Gus' cries started to echo through the baby monitor, indicating that he was awake.

Brian didn't wait for her to elaborate and walked out of the kitchen.

Two days earlier, the diner...

The cab stopped at the corner of Liberty Avenue and Stanwix Street. Justin took a deep breath as he stepped onto the sidewalk after having paid the driver, who drove off as soon as the blond was out of his car.

It had been three weeks since he gave his virginity to Brian. Justin was growing more frantic with each passing day and each new rejection from the man. He had tried calling him so many times, even contacting ‘One Life' to resolve the mess. After several unsuccessful attempts, Jeffrey Miller - the boss of the agency - had politely but firmly informed him that Brian would be unavailable for an indefinite period. Justin wasn't stupid. It could only mean that he had been vetoed as Brian's client.

That was unfair. First, he had been bashed when he had thought one of his classmates found him attractive. Now, Brian was shutting him out of his life because he had made a mistake. How could he be so wrong at reading people every single time?

If only he could explain to Brian why he had misread his intentions. Ever since the bashing, Justin had had a hard time trusting people. He now lived day after day with the harsh truth that hatred and fear were the most dangerous weapons a man could use to justify his decisions. Chris Hobbs had almost killed a part of him that night. He hadn't won, however. Against all odds, Brian had reawakened his joie de vivre. At least until the escort rejected him without giving him any chance to fix his mistake. Since then, Justin's nightmares had worsened and become more frequent. Previously, Chris's face had been the only one to haunt his dreams. Now, when Justin awoke, Brian was holding the bat, laughing at him unmercifully.

Daphne was worried about him, and Justin didn't blame her. He was worried too.

Justin knew visiting Liberty Avenue on his own was not his brightest idea. He could feel his agitation and fear threatening to overtake him, but he wanted to find Brian so badly that he refused to acknowledge he was in no condition to face a street crowded with pedestrians or a diner filled with people at rush hour.

He hesitantly slid his foot forward another step, his cane helping him navigate around obstacles on the sidewalk. Someone rushed by him as he did, shouting an annoyed "Watch out!" before hurriedly walking away. Justin was too preoccupied to care, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Breathing became more difficult but he took another step, followed by another one, until his cane encountered the concrete wall of a building at last. He moved his left hand up, finding a window, before someone bumped into him again.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled, wrapping his arms around himself in a protective manner, while turning to lean back against the window before sinking to the ground, his cane clattering to the sidewalk. He couldn't focus enough to see anything. All he felt was his lungs closing up, an overwhelming terror petrifying every part of his body, except for the rapid rising and falling of his chest.

"Kiddo," Justin heard a soothing, yet concerned voice call out. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. It's okay. I won't hurt you, sweetie. I'm Debbie, the waitress from the diner. We met briefly a few weeks ago."

"Debbie?" Justin repeated, his panic attack slowly receding thanks to her reassuring touch, her hand now slowly moving in circles across his back.

"You remember me? It's true I'm pretty unforgettable," she quipped awkwardly, probably to calm him down. Justin was grateful she didn't ask him if he needed to be committed. "Come on. You'll feel better inside."

Debbie placed her hand over Justin's, helping him retrieve his cane and then stand up. Having seen him interact with Brian before - the cane probably also giving him away - she must have guessed he was blind and could barely navigate alone in an unfamiliar environment. She might also have thought that he was a fool for making the trip on his own, but if she did, she didn't say so.

Justin followed her, the clamor of the diner overwhelming his hearing as soon as he passed through the door. He tensed, but Debbie must have felt his apprehension, and she squeezed his hand in reassurance. Justin let her lead him to a booth where customers were already sitting, their conversation dying out as he and Debbie joined them.

Once Justin was safety seated, Debbie declared, "Boys, this is..." she hesitated, and Justin realized she probably didn't remember his name.

"Justin," he finished, introducing himself properly. He tried to discern more about the man next to him, having no idea who he was seated with, which didn't help lessen his anxiety.

"Justin..." Debbie echoed, and the blond could have sworn she seemed surprised. He was right, and if he hadn't lost his sight, he would have noticed the look of curiosity on her face as she stared at the boys, silently mouthing, ‘What the fuck is going on here?' Michael scowled; Ted's lips moved as he slowly enunciated Brian's name and pointed at Justin; and Emmett rubbed his hands together, obviously anticipating that his craving for gossip was going to be satisfied.

Justin could sense that something was going on, but before he could voice his suspicions, Debbie resumed, "Justin, you're sitting next to Emmett. Teddy and my sweet son, Michael, are opposite you. Now, I'll bring you a burger and fries. On the house." From the tone of her voice, Justin knew he couldn't refuse, and he was almost amused by her bossy attitude.

"Take care of him, or you will answer to me. Understood?" she eventually ordered, the other three men sharing the booth agreeing to her request more or less enthusiastically.

As soon as Justin heard Debbie walking away, he tried to stand up, but Emmett's grip on his arm prevented him from moving. "Oh, no. You heard Debbie; you're not leaving until you eat and tell us what you're doing here. From what I can see, you came for a reason."

"He came for Brian," Michael snorted. "But Brian isn't here."

"No. What a shame. I would have loved to see you two going at it again," Ted commented.

"Ted!" Michael reprimanded his friend.

"What? Just because you are on a Ben-only diet, that doesn't mean I can't look at the ‘menu du jour'!" Ted quipped forcefully.

"I'm not a dish you can eat." Justin surprisingly rediscovered his voice.

"Who are you, then?" Emmett riposted. "You have done what no one has ever succeeded in until now. Don't be surprised if we want to know everything about you."

"What are you talking about?" Justin inquired, not understanding what Brian's friend was insinuating.

"Brian," Emmett pointed out. "He has never introduced anyone to us mere mortals before."

Justin shook his head. "He didn't introduce me. You just showed up at Babylon," he countered.

"Believe me, sweetheart. If Brian Kinney hadn't wanted us to meet you, well... we wouldn't be having this conversation right now," Emmett stated mischievously.

"Brian doesn't want anything to do with me anymore," Justin refuted, unable to hide the rejection he was feeling.

"What did you do?" Michael inquired disapprovingly.

"Maybe the problem is that he didn't do anything?" Ted questioned, briefly entertaining the idea that Brian and Justin hadn't had sex. He finally decided against it. "Nah. It's impossible. You can't fake chemistry. Believe me, boys, I know all about chemistry. Or in my case, lack of chemistry. Whatever," Ted eloquently explained.

Justin ignored Ted's diatribe. He was there for a reason. "Do you know how I can contact Brian? He's not answering my calls. I don't know what the fuck to do. If only he would agree to listen to me, I know I could make things right again. I really..."

"I think we get it," Michael interrupted him. "But if Brian doesn't want to see you anymore, I don't see what we can do."

"Maybe you could talk to him? Convince him to give me another chance?"

"Convince Brian to... give you another chance," Ted echoed, astounded. "Do I look suicidal to you?" he asked in a high-pitched voice.

Justin was about to tell him to grow a pair if he ever wanted to be respected by a man like Brian - or by any man for that matter - but before he could speak, Ted suddenly inquired enthusiastically, "But now that I think about it, why don't you tell us about the first chance he gave you? Don't leave out any details... Ouch!" Ted suddenly exclaimed. "Michael, that hurts!"

"I don't need details," Michael pronounced the word disdainfully before scolding Ted, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Haven't you had any lately?"

"Excuse me if I don't have a partner to keep me warm at night, one who is even sexier than our favorite escort. Maybe Mr. ‘I'm the hottest gift to all gay, straight, and undefined men on earth' should worry more about his line of business, considering the competition," Ted retorted.

"Ben is not sex..." Michael began to respond, but his voice trailed off as he realized what he was about to say. Instead, he barked, "Since when do you fantasize about Ben?"

"Boys, boys... you're not helping," Emmett chastised them playfully. Justin sighed in agreement, prompting Brian's friend to continue. "Listen, from what you're telling us, you fucked up, although I have a hard time imagining a gorgeous angel with a bubble butt like yours doing any harm to a man like Brian, but..."

"Here's your burger, kiddo!" Debbie exclaimed cheerfully, cutting Emmett off as she placed a plate in front of Justin.

Truthfully, Justin was grateful for her intervention. It was obvious that hoping for help from Brian's friends was pointless. Michael didn't want to interfere; Ted apparently believed Brian would have him murdered if he interceded on Justin's behalf; and Emmett... well, Emmett seemed to be fascinated by his ass, even though Justin could tell he was joking. Mostly.

"Thanks," Justin replied as he fumbled around for the cutlery, finding it wrapped in a napkin next to his plate.

"You're treating him well, aren't you?" Debbie inquired, the sharp edge in her voice making Justin chuckle. He doubted anyone was ever able to say no to her.

"He has all our consideration," Ted answered like a perfect boy scout.

"Well, make sure it stays that way. And, Justin?" Debbie called out.

"Yeah?" he responded bashfully. He doubted he was going to like what she said next.

He was right. "After you eat, Michael is taking you home."

Her demand was met with vociferous protest, as Justin and Michael both voiced their disapproval vehemently, Michael addressing her with a flabbergasted "Ma!" while Justin exclaimed loudly, "Debbie!" Of course, she didn't care.

"Do as I say. Both of you. It won't kill you," she stated pointedly before rushing to the kitchen to pick up and deliver another order.

Yes, coming here today was definitely not Justin's brightest idea.

In the end, his escapade on Liberty Avenue turned out to be futile. Justin hadn't found Brian, and he was sure his friends now thought he was a nutcase in addition to being almost blind.

It didn't stop Justin from trying to contact Brian again. Sometimes he considered just giving up, but he doubted he would succeed in moving on before the brunet agreed to see him one last time. If - no, when - it happened, Justin would explain himself and do all he could to prove that he had genuinely cared about Brian since the day they met and hadn't meant to hurt him.

And he would tell Brian the truth. That he was in love with him.

Maybe it wouldn't be enough. If so, Justin would respect Brian's wishes, even if Brian never wanted to see him again.

Until then, Justin would keep trying.