Christmas

"You deserve a break. It's Christmas after all," Evan said, walking by Brian's side in Central Park.

"My plane leaves at six tomorrow."

"It's barely nine now. How much sleep do you need?"

"I haven't been sleeping well lately," he admitted. "I guess I'm too wired with moving here and opening Kinnetik."

"Have you talked to him?"

"I think it's best if you don't talk about Justin. Please."

"I was just wondering because... He's there." Evan pointed to where Justin was laughing with two other men.

Brian followed his pointed direction, his eyes widening at the sight. He couldn't believe it.

Justin was next to none other than the fucking fiddler, smiling brightly.

"Are you going to say hi?" Evan wondered.

"He's busy."

"He's looking this way. And if looks could kill... I'd be dead."

Brian looked up, meeting Justin heated stare. Unwillingly, he walked closer.

"Hi," he said in greeting.

"Hey." Justin eyed him surprised. "Uh, Merry Christmas."

"You too." His eyes slid to the fiddler.

Ethan took it upon himself to solve the awkward situation. "Hello, Brian. I don't think you met my boyfriend. This is Warren."

Brian looked between them, then at Justin. He finally relaxed. "Listen, do you have a moment?"

"It's not nice to leave your boyfriend alone over there. Invite him here." Justin sneered, nodding to Evan.

Brian grabbed his elbow, pulling him away. "He's not my boyfriend. What happened was a mistake."

"Of course. I'm busy."

"Why didn't you answer Lindsay? She invited you over. Gus misses you."

"Are you for real? I'm sorry to let down your kid, but I can't be there. It's not my place. Kiss him for my side... And maybe if you have time, I have something for him."

"I leave tomorrow morning. Bright early."

"Can you come with me to get it? That is if Evan won't mind."

"He won't. What about your company?" Brian smirked.

"Let me explain. I'll be right with you."

It didn't take long for either Brian or Justin to depart from their respective friends, and soon they were walking through the park, to the exit. When they took a wrong turn, both not knowing the park well, they ended up in some sort of fair, where an old man kept trying to sell them mistletoe for luck, he said.

Brian scowled at the man, wrapping an arm around Justin's shoulders, steering him through the crowd. "It's okay," he whispered when he felt Justin tensing up. "Almost out."

Justin hated to react like that, especially around Brian who seemed to still know what to say and do when he was about to have a panic attack.

They took a cab to Justin's apartment. The ride wasn't as awkward as Justin suspected, but the driver spoke enough for both of them, commenting on the weather, on the Christmas rush, and so on.

When they arrived, Brian paid, shooting Justin a warning look.

Inside the apartment, Justin told Brian to wait on the couch. As he waved to the piece of furniture, he had a flashback from the first night Brian had visited.

Swallowing a round of tears, Justin hurried into his bedroom. As he shuffled through his drawings, looking for the one he'd made for Gus, he heard the bedroom door closing.

He looked up to find Brian leaning against it, watching him intensely.

"I told you to wait in the living room."

Brian advanced with slow, measured steps. He pried the drawings from Justin's hands, placing them carefully on his nightstand.

"I miss you," he whispered, tracing Justin's cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Brian, don't do this."

"Do what? Be honest? You have no idea how fucking much I regret what I did in Miami."

"But you did it. That's what it is."

"Are you ever going to forgive me?"

"I doubt it." Justin looked away, closing his eyes. "You always kept your promises, no matter if they were in my favor or not. You even respected Mom's wish to stop seeing me when I was out of the hospital, and that hurt both of us."

"And yet, I couldn't keep a simple promise to stay away from Evan. I tried, if it counts for something. I tried resisting, but a guy can deny his desire for so long."

"So you wanted him?"

Brian cleared his throat. "That's debatable. If someone you don't find repulsive came on to you and kept touching you and begging to fuck...you can say no until a point when you can't."

"If I promised someone I wouldn't fuck that guy, I'd keep my fucking promise. It doesn't matter he's the hottest man on the earth, but I respect my partner's wish."

"Justin, are you forgetting who you're talking with? I never deny myself sex encounters. And you can ask Evan how hard he had to try. I denied him until he…"

Justin held a hand up. "I don't want to know."

"I keep trying to imagine what if that storm hadn't kept us from talking…" Brian stroked Justin's hair, watching him tenderly. "I know I wouldn't have done it."

"You don't know it. And don't blame Mother Nature for your inability to keep your dick in your pants."

"I want to be mad at someone, at something."

"Be mad at yourself. You're the only one to blame. If you truly didn't want that...that Evan...then you wouldn't have fucked."

"Oh, I hate myself enough for what happened."

Justin kept eye-contact, feeling his tears choking him up. "I keep thinking too."

Brian watched him hopefully, thinking Justin was going to give him a second chance.

"What if I haven't come to New York? What if we went through with the wedding? But that's 'what if' now and it's irrelevant."

"We can still do it."

Justin gave him an incredulous look. "I can't trust you, Brian." He picked the drawing from the nightstand, offering it to him. "Here. Take this to Gus."

He'd never seen Brian so sad in his life, but they had to break whatever bond still had them tied.

"It's beautiful," Brian whispered, admiring Gus's portrait.

"I did it after Lindsay called. I have no idea how she got my new number, but oh well."

"Probably Debbie."

"Probably."

"Are you really kicking me out?" Brian asked, squeezing Justin's shoulder.

"Did I say anything? At least, you know when you're not wanted. And stop touching me. I'm not as gullible as you! I won't fall for your soft touches."

"We can do this. We can get over this. Please."

"I hate to kick you out every time. I was hoping you'd leave on your own this time," Justin muttered.

They walked to the living room, but stopped at the mouth of the hallway, facing each other.

"I know we have history, and I'm aware we're going to see and hear about each other. We have common friends. We're both from Pittsburgh. Now we live here. But I want a minimum of effort to stay away from each other. I guess it's best. That way both of us will suffer less. Maybe in a few years the wound will heal, and I will be able to be around you without feeling the need to stab myself."

"Justin…" Brian gasped.

"This is the last promise I want from you. Stay away from me."

"I can't promise you that! It's absurd."

"Did you ever love me? Even a tiny bit?"

"You know I love you more than anything else."

Justin stifled a sob at Brian's confession. There was a time when he'd have jumped with glee at hearing the words, at the moment, they brought only pain. "Then you have to respect my last wish."

Brian stepped closer, pushing Justin against the wall. Before he could protest, Brian's lips were on his. The kiss was brief, but full of so many emotions Justin refused to acknowledge.

"Goodbye, Sunshine."

Justin stared after Brian, amazed. He heard the front door close, but he couldn't see anything. His vision blurred, and he slumped against the wall, curling into a ball and sobbing his heart out.

He knew this was their last encounter.

He knew this was the last he'd ever see of Brian.

He couldn't breathe.

Justin couldn't imagine a world without Brian in it.

He scrambled up, rushing out the door, stumbling over his feet. As he reached the building's front door, he could see Brian hailing a cab.

"Wait!" Justin shouted, lunging to the door and pulling it open. "Brian!" But Brian was already inside the car.

"Don't go!" He ran after the car. "Wait! Brian!"

His heart shattered when cab caught speed, getting lost in traffic.

Taking a shaky breath, Justin returned to his apartment, grateful he kept his keys in his jacket's pocket. He fell on his bed, hugging the pillow to his chest.

Could he live without his heart?

Was there life after Brian?

Could he ever trust anyone after what happened?

The mere thought of another man near him, repulsed him at the moment. All he wanted was Brian.

After hours of laying in bed, Justin decided to do something therapeutic. It took him a while to arrange a blank canvas on the easel because of his shaky hands, and when it was installed, he started drawing. He had no idea what would come out of the painting, because he allowed the brush to create what his mind couldn't comprehend. The pain was too grand to even feel it, but the brush knew how he felt, and it allowed him to represent it on the canvas.

One thing Justin knew for sure, he'd hate this painting.