BRIAN'S POV

So. Wake up. Get out of bed. Stretch.

Jump on the treadmill and run for bit. Do some sit ups. Walk around the loft. Pick up a sweater that Justin left this morning.

Make a protein shake.

Have a shower.

Get dressesd.

And...

Hm.

Fuck.

Now what?

Now. Fucking. What?

It’s 11:00 a.m. Wednesday. Usually by now I would’ve created tag lines for a new campaign, met with the design team and prepped for my afternoon meeting. I would’ve had at least four cups of coffee, I’d be feeling the buzz in my veins, and I’d be thinking that there wasn’t enough fucking time in the day to get everything done.

I would’ve been stressed out of my head, feeling that adrenalin, and fucking loving it.

Christ.

It’s been six days. I haven’t had six days off since... fuck. I can't remember.

Haven’t had a vacation since... since me and Mikey went to Mexico four years ago.

Haven’t ever had time to myself. I can’t remember it. I’ve always been working or studying or partying or fucking, and not in that order. Always had a diversion.

Never had this... this... complete absence of responsibility. Absence of distraction from my thoughts. Random, painful thoughts that keep going around and around in my brain. And I don’t want to think right now. Don’t want to think about what I should’ve done... don’t want to think about how many points down the line I should’ve stopped... should’ve put my foot down before it got to where it got... should’ve opened my fucking eyes and seen how much everything mattered...

Most of all, don’t want to think about how I never, ever should’ve opened my big mouth that night in the bathroom at that fundraiser. Shouldn’t have ever said anything to Jim Stockwell. If I’d let him keep doing exactly what he was doing, he would’ve lost the election. I’m sure of it. I convinced him of it. Convinced him that he needed me otherwise he’d be nothing but a wanna-be-mayor... and I was able to convince him because I believed it. And now he’s probably gonna win. Because of me.

Jesus fucking Christ.

If I keep running along with this train of thought, next thing I know I’ll be fucking regretting something. And that’s not going to happen. He can take away my job, but he can’t take away who I am.

I flop down on the couch and pick up yesterday’s newspaper. Start to flick to the classifieds, then throw the paper on the floor.

Who the fuck am I kidding? The job I’m looking for isn’t one that’s found in the paper. The kind of job I’m looking for is one that is achieved by knowing the right people. Traveling in the right circles. Getting the right contacts.

Not the kind of contacts I usually find in the backroom of Babylon.

I guess I’ll have to set up some interviews with executive recruiters and show up at a couple of industry events.

Hope my fucking reputation isn’t shot all to hell.

Don’t know how much of this is getting out there, but I don’t think I’d be wise to hit the pavement quite yet.

Let the panic die down. Let the news pass.

Let the election be won and lost and none of this will matter any more.

Then I’ll start looking. When nobody remembers the posters. When nobody remembers the things we did to make a point. To be heard. Because those things are fleeting anyway.

No, I’m just going to sit around here for a little while.

Just wish I had something to do until then.

Just wish this waiting part wasn’t so fucking hard.

Next day...

So. Wake up. Get out of bed. Stretch...

Jump on the treadmill and run for bit. Do some sit ups. Walk around the loft. Nothing to pick up because Justin couldn’t come by yesterday.

Make a protein shake.

Have a shower.

Get dressesd.

And...

Hm.

Hmmmmm...

Won’t admit it out loud, but I missed seeing Justin yesterday. Missed our fuck... missed his kisses... missed him...

So, I get in the car and drive around for a bit, then go by PIFA. Justin’s been spending more time in the studio since he got fired. Well, he didn’t exactly get fired, he just didn’t show up at Vanguard again. Didn’t give them the chance to fire him.

I park and get out of the car. Lean against it for a bit and watch all the students go by.

Think about being 19 or 20 or 21 again...

Think about how I never thought this would be me. How I always envisioned being in control of fucking everything.

But then again... maybe I am. I’m in control of what I’m doing right now. My own decision to just relax for awhile before running around writing up my resume and frantically searching for a new job. A new leash around my neck.

I’ve always loved my job, and I’ve been lucky to be so fucking good at it. But I’ve never loved working. Only liked the end result. The finished product. Completing it with success.

That’s the best part.

I put the alarm on the car with a beep and wander into the school to find Justin. It’s not like when he was at St. James and at 3:30 every afternoon all the kids would come streaming out those front doors. Sometimes I’d be waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Waiting for that smile of his when he saw me. The way he’d run down the concrete stairs and into my arms in front of everyone, not fucking caring, not seeing anyone else but me.

Hard to believe he’s the same kid anymore.

Then again, he’s not. He’s not a kid. He’s a man. He’s more man right now than I am.

I wander around the front entrance until I find a directory, and then head towards the Fine Arts wing, remembering the way these college hallways always smell. Thinking everything looks so small and almost forgetting that when I was at school I was blinded by the enormity of it...

I find the fine arts wing and take a few steps down one of the corridors. I hear laughter echoing down the hallway and I follow it.

Peek my head around the corner and see Justin sitting with Daphne and a couple other students. Daphne sees me first and her eyes light up and she comes running over, kissing me on the cheek.

I know she’s glad that what happened with Justin and that kid is over. She told me so, more than once. Told me that Justin was miserable without me. I brushed her off, shrugged my shoulders...

Felt warm inside at the words.

“Hey Michelle,” Daphne calls to one of the girls sitting there. “Didn’t I tell you Justin has the most gorgeous boyfriend?”

“Daph, he’s not my...” Justin starts, but somehow I stop him with a smile, and his words trail away.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say, leaning against the doorframe, aware of the stares of Daphne and her friend.

Justin picks up his bag and heads towards me. “What’re you doing here, anyway?” he asks, giving me a quick kiss.

I lick my lips, taking the taste of him into my mouth. “Dunno. Wanted to go for a coffee. Wanna come?”

He grins and waves goodbye to his friends, and we walk down the hallway silently. I put my arm over his shoulders and he falls into step with me. I don’t really have any reason to see him, but I just feel like I want to have him nearby. Want to remember that there was a reason for all of this to have happened. To remember that it’s not nearly as bad as it could be.

We hit the diner and I buy him a late lunch. He protests about my taking the bill, but I remind him that it’s fine, that I’ve got lots of cash. To hammer home my point, I tell him I’m thinking about buying a new TV.

He scrunches up his nose. “Not really a good idea, Brian,” he says.

I shrug. 

I cease to care any more. Funny how I went from caring intensely to whatever the fuck this is now. Not that I don’t care about him, or his being here. It’s just that unemployment has put a dim cast on everything else.

Guess I never realized how much I depended on my job to tell me who I am. Who I’m supposed to be. Never realized how much I liked having that job with the fancy title, and premium parking space... office overlooking the park... perks like tickets to everything and expense-paid lunches and having fifty people below me that respected me and looked to me for guidance... and...

Fuck.

“Brian, you okay?” Justin asks, his mouth full of French fries.

I plaster a grin on my face. “More than okay,” I say, and steal a couple of his fries. He sucks back on his milkshake.

“So, get any leads? See anything promising?” he asks, watching me closely. I avoid his gaze.

“Yeah, the brunette in the blue sweater,” I growl at him, staring across the diner at a potential fuck.

He slurps the bottom of his glass. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he says, pushing his empty plate away.

I stare at him, straight on. “Okay,” I pause for a minute and debate telling him what I’ve really been working on. An idea that seemed good at the time, sitting at home alone smoking pot and surfing the Internet, getting sick of the dull echo of my own footsteps as I paced the hardwood in my bare feet.

“I’m planning a party,” I tell him.

His eyes light up. “Like a networking thing? Cool, because I could-”

“Not networking, fucking,” I cut him off. “Since they closed down the backroom, I figure I’ll open my own.”

His shoulders drop slightly. “Why not fight to keep the one at Babylon open?” he says, almost, but not quite, glaring at me.

I bark out a laugh. “Told ya, Sunshine, I’m through fighting for everyone else. It’s time for me to have some fun. And I plan on making good use of all this free time I’ve suddenly got.” I slide my feet between his under the table and slowly push his legs apart. “Know what I mean?”

He tenses his legs and they stop moving. “Brian,” he’s not smiling anymore.

“C’mon, Justin,” I flick a toothpick between my teeth and put on my best announcer’s voice. “Twenty of Pittsburgh’s hottest, horniest-”

He cuts me off. “Hey, do whatever you want. I honestly don’t care,” his eyes drop to the table and he starts to put on his jacket.

I kick his foot with my boot lightly. “Wanna come over? Hang out before going to Babylon?”

He pauses for a minute, then lets a smile slip across his face. “Sure, I have to pick up some stuff at Daph’s for tonight.”

I wanna tell him that there are two drawers sitting there empty... that there’s a bunch of bare hangers in the closet... that there’s an expanse of bed that I still can’t sleep in, and that it’s waiting for him to fill it... every... single... night...

But...

I don’t.

Not quite there yet.

JUSTIN’S POV

Fuck, he pisses me off sometimes. And it’s not because of his little fuck party he’s planning, I can honestly say that. Maybe last year—fuck, yeah, definitely last year—I would’ve been jealous or some stupid childish thing like that. But right now, today, I couldn’t give a shit about his party, or how many guys he fucks, or who he lets suck his dick. Really, I don’t care about that anymore.

I know who he is. I know to expect from him. And I understood the terms I was coming back to. And it’s been amazing. It’s fucking working this time. Don’t know why, don’t question it... just know it’s been the best time of my life being back with him again.

But all of that doesn’t stop me from being pissed at him right now. I can’t believe that he’s just given up. That’s not Brian. Wasting his time planning fuck parties when he should be figuring out what he’s going to do next. Finding a way to get back on his feet. A way to fight back. To show them all that he was right... that we were right.

I guess I’m just disappointed in him. Guess I’m just... let down a little.

He’s the one that’s always told me to fight and to be the best that I can. And I learned from him and watched him and hoped to God that one day I could be as successful as him.

And even those couple weeks that I worked at Vanguard, I saw how successful he really was in his job. I mean, I wasn’t bullshitting him, those people looked up to him. They respected him. They listened to him because they knew that he was right. That he knew what he was talking about.

Brian is damn good at what he does, and to see him brush it away like it was nothing...

It just disappoints me.

Ok, so it’s only been a couple of days. But I just get this feeling from him like he has no plan. No idea. No concept of what he’s doing. Like he’s just... drifting. He’s lost all the momentum that we gained the last couple of weeks. The posters and the campaigns and standing up in that crowd with our signs and being heard... trying to stop Stockwell...

I don’t know why Brian’s given up now. Why it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

And Christ, the fact that he showed up at school today... coming by to see me... wandering around aimlessly for no reason. Well that just proves it to me. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

And maybe that makes me more than disappointed. Maybe that makes me scared.

I finish packing a bag to go to Brian’s and decide at the last minute to stick a couple extra pairs of underwear and another t-shirt in there. Might... just... well, might just leave it there this time.

Never know... when... I might need it.

And... maybe those drawers are still empty.

BRIAN’S POV

Couple days later...

“Oh fuck... fuck... fuck...” he pants hard, and I quicken my pace, sliding my dick into his hole with more force than before.

“Jesus... Christ... do it... fucking... do it... do it...” his moans burst out of his throat each time I pound into him, his fingers reach behind him to clamp on the back of my thighs... his nails dig into my skin... “Harder... fuck me... harder...” he cries, and I rock into him... my hips barreling into his ass... the wet smack of our sweaty skin clapping together... barely audible over the music and grunts and groans of the others strewn around the loft... I put my hand on the back of his neck and press his face into the bed... trying to shut him up...

I close my eyes... and envision blond hair... smooth pale skin... my ears seek the sound of his moans... his soft cries... his whispers of my name...

Fuck... it always worked before... and... if I try really hard... close my eyes and try to picture Justin beneath me... stretch my imagination... fantasize that it’s him... it might work again...

But...

It doesn’t make any sense to be thinking about Justin when I’m fucking some trick when I really can be fucking Justin... and this ridiculous jumble of thoughts spins around and around in my head until I suddenly feel that too much sensation on my dick and his ass clamps down around me and oh, oh, oh... breathe in... suck in... oh, oh... fffuuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkk... fuck... fuck...

I cum... and let go of whoeverthefuck’s hair... and... crumple down to the bed... panting hard... the sharp scent of sweat seeping up my nostrils.

“Holy fuck...” he moans under me, and I slide my dick from his ass, pulling off the condom and I roll onto my back beside him. Shit... I’m so tired. So fucking tired. I don’t think I can move.

Too much drugs. Too much drinking. Too much fucking. If that’s possible.

I rest my head on the guy’s arm beneath me... his fingers find my cock... he starts stroking me...

“Fuck... you’re still hard,” he whispers in my ear, running his thumb across my dick...

I close my eyes... and envision... someone else...

Next day...

So... wake up...

Oh...

Fuck...

Feel like shit... body hurts... head screaming... everything... ow...

Too tired... hungover... crampy... headachy... hungry... and...

Sticky...

Christ.

I pry my eyes open... remember falling into bed... sometime... not too long ago... know it was light out... it was morning... kicked out the last trick...

Lift my head... ah.. ah... ow... need drugs... and more liquor...

Always works.

My fingers reach out to the side table... find my lighter... package of cigarettes... pull one out, light it... suck back the smoke...

Getting better...

I turn my head from side to side... the bed’s a fucking mess... cum stains... condoms... Kleenex and... shit, I don’t even know what the fuck THAT is...

Slowly... so slowly get up... oh God... head rush... stars float across my eyes and my stomach churns... I clumsily roll out of bed and miraculously land on my feet... peer across the top of the dresser to taste the last of the coke... but there’s nothing left...

Pull on a pair of jeans I find crumpled on the floor... stumble down the steps... Christ, Christ, Christ.... shit, shit, shit... my fucking loft... I grab a half empty bottle of Jim Beam I find on the coffee table and pour some down my throat...

The liquor burns inside me... the taste warm and familiar... the smell bringing me to my senses... and... ah, yes... a reasonable facsimile of Brian Kinney is starting to appear...

I pace around the loft, bypassing the tipped over glasses and slick puddles of lube on the floor... maybe this wasn’t such a great idea... I’ll have to get the entire place sanitized now... it smells like a bathhouse, and not in a good way...

Whatever... who fucking cares anyway...

I flick on the coffee pot and wander around again, picking up the sofa cushions and tossing them onto the couch... kicking aside a dildo and a pair of leather handcuffs... and... I suddenly have a vision of... stars and stripes and a red wig... fucking flashback or a bad trip... ? Oh fuck no... that’s right... Debbie was here. Fucking Debbie... always, always, always has to be in the middle of everything.

And now she’s trying to drag me into the middle of it too.

I. Don’t. Care. I told her. I don’t fucking care about payback or revenge or any of that shit. It doesn’t matter. Nothing I can do about it anyway. So what if dumpster boy was offed by a cop? I don’t know him... don’t know the cop... nothing I can do about it...

Nothing... nothing... nothing...

A knock on the door... it slides open... I cringe, expecting Debbie to be back, raving at me again...

But... no...

I grin lazily.

“Hey Justin,” I say, turning around... surveying the mess as if I’m somehow proud.

“Must’ve been quite an elegant affair,” he says sarcastically, following my gaze over the stained towels strewn across the floor.

Seeing his face rejuvenates me, and I leap onto the coffee table, knowing it’ll hold my weight because I watched two guys fucking on it last night.

“Long night’s journey into day...” I take another long swig of Jim, feeling it swish around in my empty stomach. I jump off the table and lean in to kiss him, but he pushes me away, making a face. Guess I’m not always so irresistible...

I tell him that he shoulda been here... but... he brushes me off, telling me that he was helping Daphne study for midterms... and I feel a slash of something... guilt or... I don’t know what the fuck... I start to pour us some coffee and change the subject... tell him about my uninvited guest... Debbie... busting in on me to tell me her news... 

But as soon as I see his face... that look of... holy shit, we gotta do something... I regret opening my big mouth... and he fucking starts in on me...

Fuck, HE thinks I should care too... and... he starts lecturing me about how I just want to screw around and how my freedom has been taken away and how I won’t even be able to afford a cleaning lady one day if I don’t stop fucking up... and I don’t really want to hear it... not right now...

But... fuck. He’s right and I hate it. How come he’s right so often these days?

“Fuck off...” I grumble... trying desperately to light the stub of a joint I found.

“I woulda figured you’d had enough of that by now,” he says, smirking at me.

Enough of them.... not enough of you...

The words pop into my head unwarranted, and I shake my head... I didn’t say that out loud, did I?

I snicker to myself... drop the joint. Enough of the drugs for now.

“Take a shower... if you can find the bathroom... and I’ll take you out for a bagel or something,” he points towards the bedroom.

He... fucking... amazes me. I can’t believe that... after all this... he still gives a shit about me.

And Jesus... he makes me horny.

“Wanna join me?” I ask, stepping towards him.

He puts his hands up in defense. “No! You fucking stink,” I can see a smile creeping around the corner of his mouth...

Almost... almost...

“C’mon...” I tease... jumping closer suddenly...

He backs up, but angles himself against the steel beam. “No...”

I put my palm on his shoulder and push him back against the beam. “You can soap me up...” I breathe hoarsely into his ear... “Get me nice and clean...”

His eyes close... I put my other hand on his dick... hmm... I bite my lips into my mouth... he’s hard... I rub him softly through his cargo pants...

“Brian...” it’s not a question... or a demand... or... anything... just my name... passing out over his lips... and it sounds... so fucking good...

I grab the material of his jacket between my fingers and pull it down over his shoulder.

“You know you want to...” I flick my tongue out into his ear and he gasps a little. My lips close around his ear lobe and suck softly... I feel him relax under my touch...

“Fuck, you piss me off,” he growls before grabbing me around the neck and kissing me hard.

I pull away, watching as his lips reach out for mine. “Thought I stunk?” I mock him, slowly taking my hand from his cock.

His fingers clench around my wrist, and he pulls my fingers back to his crotch. “You fucking do,” he says before clamping his lips on my mouth, his fingers curling over mine on his dick...

I push him back against the beam and suddenly realize that everything from last night... every fuck, every suck, every time I came... was just like some work up to being with him again... like some pre-amble to my next fuck with Justin.

Pathetic...

And sad...

But I don’t fucking care...

We kiss and kiss and his fingers are unbuttoning my jeans and I push off his jacket and we finally break apart and he looks at me... lips red and wet... eyes flicking across my face... breath shaking out of his throat... got that turned on look that fucking drives me nuts...

I reach to grab him around the neck and pull him to me again, but he puts his hand in my face to stop me.

“Shower... now...” he laughs, taking my hand and pulling me to the bathroom. He looks back at me over his shoulder... “You still stink.”

I drag my feet and follow him to the bathroom... kicking aside all sorts of shit on the floor. I scheduled the cleaning service to come in at 2:00... so we have a few hours alone... some time... to get clean again...

He peels off his clothes and I step out of my jeans, twisting on the tap in the shower... immediately I feel better... pulling the steamy air into my lungs...

We step inside and he positions me under the water... letting it cascade over my body... wash away everything... his fingers on my shoulder... turning me around... I hear a snap of a top... then... fingers in my hair... smell shampoo... tip my head back...

Christ... this feels good... water splashes down on my face... and I keep my eyes closed... just relax... he massages the shampoo into my scalp... hmmm... just enough pressure... just enough... his fingers scrape lightly against my skin... making little circles... that ease my headache away... thumbs push up the base of my neck... then tip my head forward to rinse the shampoo from my hair... coaxing the suds out...

I feel the smooth bar of soap run across my shoulder blades.... slippery... warm... wet.... I let the water bounce down off my forehead... and I lean back a bit... feel him behind me... supporting me... holding me up... pushing his hands across my back... massaging my muscles... persuading the soreness and stiffness away...

Hands move lower... palms curving my ass... spreading lather on my skin... the tips of his fingers slip into my ass crack... parting my cheeks... then lower to cup my balls... I spread my legs unconsciously... giving him better access...

His dick taps against my skin and I push back a little... he moves between my legs and I feel his cock touching my balls... our skin sliding together... feels nice... just... warm...

He reaches around to my front... soap in hand... spreading it across my chest... down my arms... under my arm pits... cleaning me all over... then shifts his hands down... into my nest of wet pubes... he keeps moving behind me... just slowly rocking against me... his dick sliding between my legs... against my ass...

Slowly he wraps his fingers around my cock... ah... yeah... feels good... his fingers move up and down my length... I feel him press his cheek against my shoulder... he strokes my dick... breathes heavily... with each movement...

I cover his hand with mine, and pull his fingers from my cock... and turn around so we’re facing... I bring our lips together and kiss him... letting water drip into our mouths... feel it running down my face... down my neck... down over my forehead and eyelids...

Put my hand on the small of his back and pull him towards me... trapping our dicks against our wet bellies... feel the hot skin of his cock touching mine... I take a few steps forward... pushing him backwards... against the glass wall... confining him between me and the glass...

Don’t stop kissing... feel like... I’ve been starving for him forever... feel like I want to devour him... take him all inside... I slide my hand between us and take his cock in my grip... he sucks in a breath... but my mouth is clamped on his and he takes the air from my lungs... intensifies the kiss... intensifies the sensation...

Grab his wrist with my other hand and guide him to my dick... he takes it eagerly... humming into my throat... I feel the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile... but I don’t let it escape... keep kissing him... bite his bottom lip... his tongue darts out and licks my lips... slides across my teeth...

I run my thumb over his slit... his breath catches in his throat... I squeeze his cock a little... start a rhythm... pulling on his dick.... swift movements up and down... he responds... his fingers encase my cock... and I get this warm buzz all over... feels fucking great...

His cock is so fucking hard... so warm... our bodies press together... our knuckles knocking against one another as we jerk each other off... he makes me hot just kissing him... just tasting him...

Reach behind him... slide my finger down his crack... press against his hole... feel his pace quicken on my cock... know he’s going to cum soon... push him harder against the glass... pull his tongue into my mouth and suck it gently... his breath comes hard through his nose... change the pace... the pressure... the intensity of my grip on his dick...

Wanted it slow but now I want it fast... want it now... want to feel the way his body tenses, the way his hole tightens, the way he shudders as he cums... want to feel all that...

He slides his other hand between us and cups my balls... rolling them in his fingers... pulling them gently away from my body... tightens his grip... loosens it... faster then slower... pushes my tongue back into my mouth with his own... starts tongue fucking my mouth... my lips cover his... the water beating down on my back... so hot...

And... I zone out... just... lost in pleasure... lost... like I only let myself get lost... with him...

Feel his hole clench on my finger... I push a tiny bit inside... he pushes out a sharp moan from his throat, then leans back into my hand... trying to get more of me inside him.... I hook the tip of my finger in him... moving back and forth... he holds his hand between my legs... my balls in his palm...

More... more... faster... faster... our lips part... just barely... to let air escape into our lungs... but still touching... still kissing... still connected... he sucks in a deep breath... stops moving for the briefest second... pushes back on my finger inside him... and starts fucking my hand... pumping his cock between my fingers... till he tenses all over... lets out huge shuddering breaths into my mouth... his lips parted... pressed against mine...

Hmmm... warm cum spurts out his slit... running down my hand... I barely feel it splatter on my skin... warm droplets mixing in with the water...

He starts jerking me off fast... my dick wrapped up in his warm fingers... his tongue pressed inside me... he runs his hand in his cum on my chest... then puts his palm on the side of my face... and fuck... I feel him and smell him... and... Christ... I just let go...

Just let go... just give in...

Ah... fuck... .... fuck.... mmmm... euphoria washes over me in waves... I breathe into his mouth... suck back his breath... so good... so good... fuck... feel my cum hit my chest beside his...

Our dicks fall from each other’s grip... I pull my finger from his tight asshole... and just hold him to me...

My mouth is sore... my lips... raw... my tongue aching... but I can’t stop kissing him... I... can’t get enough...

Missed kissing him so much... when he was gone...

Couldn’t kiss anyone else... when he was gone...

Still don’t want to... can’t... won’t... just... don’t...

Hope he knows... that...

Even though... I’m pretty sure he’d never ask me for those things again... those silly little rules we made up on the floor of Babylon a million years ago...

Even though by now... I’ve broken almost every single one... fucked a couple guys more than once... picked up some numbers... definitely know some names...

There’s one... that... I’ll always keep...

One that he’ll never have to ask me for...

One that... is so easy to abide by....

One that means more than the rest...

One that... I’ll never break.

Later that night....

We fall into bed... the sheets have been changed and the loft has been cleaned... thank God for my cleaning service...

The music from Babylon still rings in my ears... and I’m so tired... but so horny... with no backroom at Babylon anymore there’s nowhere to fuck...  and all I want is a slow, long fuck... Justin on his back beneath me... kissing him while we cum...

I climb on top of him and plant my lips on his... he kisses me back, but I feel a hesitation... feel something stopping him.

“You should’ve come to the party,” I say, pulling my lips back just a little, so we’re still touching.

“What?” he asks, laughing at me, his brow furrowing in confusion.

I roll off him and onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. This feels familiar. This feels like last year. But it’s only ME that feels familiar... that feeling of guilt... of disappointing him...

HE feels different... he’s not making me feel guilty... not making me feel like he’s disappointed... he’s just different... this is different... in so many ways... so many good ways...

And I need to learn... how everything is different now... try not to lull myself into thinking that nothing happened... that nothing changed... because everything changed... and stayed the same all at the same time...

The good things never changed... and only the hard things... seem to have disappeared... not that there aren’t hard things now... they’re just...

All different now...

I scrunch up my face. “That’s not it, is it...” I mumble... shaking my head...

“Brian...” he starts... and turns over onto his side... he puts his fingers on my chin, turning my head so I’m looking at him. He shakes his head slowly... a little smile on his face. “I told you...” he says.

I just nod and he leans closer, kissing me lightly on the lips.

“I’ve been a real shit lately, haven’t I,” my voice is hoarse and my throat dry.

He shakes his head quickly, his blond hair flying around his face.

I push him hard in the ribs. “Yes I have.”

“Ow!” he yelps, grabbing at my hand to stop me. But he doesn’t let go of my fingers. “Okay... yeah, you have,” he finally says, laughing a bit.

I try to laugh back, but it doesn’t work... just know how to breathe in and out right now. I open my mouth to make a stupid remark, but instead the truth comes flying out.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do...” my mouth hangs open as I hear my words floating in the air.

He looks away and concentrates on my fingers in his... pressing my hand open and rubbing his thumb on my palm...

“There are some things you could do...” he trails off...

I don’t respond... just lie here... feel his touch on me... let him tell me... what he wants me to do...

He squeezes my fingers between his. “I mean... you could... nail his ass to the wall...”

“Sounds kinky,” I grin, twisting his fingers in mine, sitting up and forcing him to roll onto his back.

He lets out a groan and smacks me on the chest. “Fuck, Brian... you know.”

I let go of him and flop back on the bed, sighing loudly. “I know.”

“If Deb says that there’s... a chance... that maybe a cop was involved in Jason’s murder... well...”

I put my hands over my face and shake my head slowly. “Tell me again why everyone thinks it’s my problem?”

“It’s not just your problem... it’s everyone’s problem. But you have a chance to do something about it.... you CAN do something about it,” he pokes me in the chest.

I nod reluctantly. 

“And...” he starts again. “You can potentially benefit from it too...”

“Nothing would make me go back and work at Vanguard...” I say it through my fingers criss-crossing my face. I don’t want him to see the doubt in my eyes...

“That’s not what it’s about...” he trails away, and slides his hand under my shirt, running his fingers up the center of my chest. His touch is so light it starts to give me goose bumps. “It’s about... fighting... and... winning... and... about... not forgetting or forgiving,” he finishes.

I shake my head. “What good will it do anybody? I started the fucking machine... even I can’t turn it off now.”

He pulls my hands away from my face, and I turn to look at him.

“Listen to yourself, Brian,” his voice is firm. “Don’t make it all mean nothing.”

I roll him onto his back and climb between his legs... grabbing his wrists in mine, and pinning him to the bed.

“You know you’re too smart for your own good,” I say in his face... my hair brushing against his forehead.

He lifts his head and kisses me. “You can pin me down... you can fuck me till I can’t walk... but you can’t make me give up on you, Brian.”

I let go of his wrists and run my hands down his sides, moving down his body a little, till my head rests on his chest, the material of his t-shirt soft against my skin... I can hear his heart beating... feel the rise and fall with each breath...

His fingers trail up into my hair, and he weaves his fingertips across my scalp... and I just close my eyes... don’t wanna move... don’t wanna fight this so much anymore... maybe it’s time that I did try something... that I did... try and change something. Stop this downward spiral before it starts.

“Okay,” my voice cracks from my throat dryly, and I just keep breathing. Just keep breathing.

Just keep breathing...

JUSTIN’S POV

People might think I’m stupid. That... I’m naïve. And hopeless. And being used and abused and suckered into something that will never ever work and will never ever bring me happiness.

Fuck all they know.

Course I didn’t like that Brian had the party... I mean, I would’ve preferred that he used his resources for something a little more constructive... but... I honestly don’t care that he still does this shit. It’s who he is. And I could’ve come, but... I think he and I both know that I’m just not into that scene anymore.

Just... doesn’t feel right anymore.

But I don’t fucking care that he does it.

I don’t. Honestly. Totally. Maybe you don’t believe me, and think I’m stupid too.

Maybe I am stupid.

Stupidly in love.

With someone that won’t tell me. Won’t give in to me. Won’t commit to me.

But that’s not true. He tells me... he gives in to me... he’s committed to me.

Just not in the way that other people do those things.

What we’ve got is... different. Just... different.

I had a taste of the other. I had romance and rings and all that fucking shit. I had I love you six thousand times a day... and breakfast in bed and making love and serenades...

But I was missing... other stuff. More important stuff. That... tear my pants off and fuck me now... that... I need to kiss you right this fucking second or I’ll die... that... feeling of... smelling him on my hands... and it making my dick hard. That... need... desire... intensity... that... feeling that you can’t even put into words... that... thing... that we have.

So he fucks someone else. Who fucking cares? When he’s with me... he’s with me. Alone in our bed... in our minds... in our hearts. Okay, so it sounds stupid, but I know I’m stupid for him.

And I’d do anything to help him. Fucking anything. I just need to help him see what’s right. What he should be doing.

I run my fingers through his hair until I’m pretty sure he’s asleep.

Couple days later...

“Here, put this on,” he holds out a worn black leather jacket. I take it in my hands and feel the soft material beneath my fingers. It still has that leather smell, but also the soft odor of cigarettes and the unmistakable scent of Brian.

I pull it on over my t-shirt and feel my dick twitch as the smell envelops me... and I think of him wearing it... it’s a bit big but fits me okay... but I know it’s too small for Brian to wear now...

“You wore this...” I say... not really asking... more just stating a point. My fingers poke out the long sleeves and I feel where the fabric lining has thinned on the inside of the cuffs.

He takes a step back and looks at me, putting his hand over his mouth to conceal a smile.

I frown at him. “What?” I ask defensively. I have the distinct feeling that he’s making fun of me.

“Shit... you’re short,” he barks out. “That totally fit me when I was your age.”

“Fuck you,” I pull the jacket off and start to throw it at him... but... somehow it just doesn’t leave my fingers... instead I wrap it up in my arms. I wanna wear it again... I love the way it feels... it’s like... Brian’s arms around me... and it makes me feel connected to him in a totally different way.

He takes a step closer and kisses me on the head. “I like that you’re short,” he whispers into my hair.

“Well I hope so, because I don’t think I’m getting any taller,” I mumble and eagerly slide the jacket over my shoulders again. I get a whiff of that smell and feel the heat in my groin.

“When did you wear this last?” I ask, shifting a little in the jacket.

He just shrugs, and reaches out for my hand... I let him pull me to the bedroom, stumbling up the steps a little. He rummages in his drawer and pulls out one of his black tank tops and hands it to me.

I pull at the white t-shirt I’m wearing. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Trust me, Sunshine... you want this,” he hangs the strap of the top on his finger, dangling it in front of me.

I pull off the jacket reluctantly and yank my t-shirt over my head... then take the black tank top from Brian and slip it on. The soft cotton clings to my chest and feels good against my skin. When I put the jacket on again, I can feel the lining against my shoulders and back... Christ... I’ll be a walking hard on tonight.

“Better?” I ask him, ruffling up my hair a little, and pulling my jeans down over my hips.

He leers at me... sticking his tongue between his teeth... “Fuck, I’d pay for you,” he jokes, then lurches forward and pulls us both to the bed... unexpectedly, he wraps his arms around me tightly... pulling me into this hug... making me feel warm... and safe...

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” he says quietly into my shoulder... he squeezes me a little and I feel him let out a heavy sigh against my skin.

I breathe for a minute... not responding... I agree... I don’t think it is such a good idea, but he’s asked me... and I said I’d help. I’m kind of freaked about it... but... fuck... it’s all I can do to help, and I’ll do it, dammit.

“Brian... you said...” I start... not sure how to continue...

He pulls away a bit. “I know... fuckin’ Horvath. He wants the evidence handed to him on a fucking platter. He refuses to work for this one.”

“And that makes you want to succeed even more,” I say into his shoulder.

He moves back until we’re facing each other, lying side-by-side on the bed. “Exactly,” he says, not looking at me.

“Brian, that’s not wrong. What you did already was fucking brave, going in there and confronting the asshole... what if he is the one? Then you’ll have taken a fucking murderer off the streets,” I try to reason with him.

“But putting you in his hands first,” he growls, and gets up off the bed, pacing a little.

I sit up on the bed, watching him for a minute. “What choice do we have?” I ask him.

He stops pacing and looks at me for a long second. “I don’t know, Justin... I really don’t.”

I climb up off the bed and hug him tightly... getting up on my toes to rest my chin on his shoulder... feeling his stubble against my face... his hands wrap around my back and pull me to his chest so hard...

I don’t know what he’s thinking... but I do know that there’s nothing I can say to make him feel better about this... nothing I can do, except just do it...

Just go there and do what I’m supposed to do... do what needs to be done...

And try not to think of what I’m doing... try not to think of that fucking party at Gary’s... try not to feel... like that again... try not to show how... scared... this makes me inside.

BRIAN’S POV

I hold Justin’s hand all way up to the door, then reluctantly let his grip fall from mine. If we’re going to do this... we’re going to do this right.

And I know he can do it... just... I feel all kinds of shitty even asking him to do it... to fucking pose as a hustler... to put his life in danger... put him into the grip of a killer...

Because I know that fucker killed... I could see it in him... feel it from him... the guilt... the anguish... the self-hatred...

I know he did it. And I know exactly why Horvath is covering it up. Pensions and unwritten codes and crap like that.

Fuck that.

The queers are going to win this one. We have to win. It’s all I have right now. It’s all I believe in right now. It’s all I have to fight for right now.

We slide onto a couple of bar stools, and I let Justin get away with all kinds of shit... making snide remarks about how old I am... how pathetic this place is... how... he could actually make some pretty good cash in this place...

Like I would ever... EVER... fucking let him do that...

I know he’s just saying these things to make us both feel better... trying to lighten the mood... break the silence we maintained in the car on the ride over... trying to make it seem much easier... much less important... much... less terrifying... than it really is...

That little brat Hunter finds us for a bit, pissing off Justin, and I get rid of him fast... sending him home to Ben and Mikey... last thing I need is him blowing our cover...

He finally leaves... I see him skulk around the bar for a bit, then head outside... I debate calling Mikey to let him know where Hunter is, but then think better of it... bad enough the poor kid has to deal with those two... he doesn’t need anyone else keeping tabs on him.

Justin slides off the barstool, and walks around the bar a bit, scoping it out... acting as though he’s looking for business...

I watch him closely out of the corner of my eye... nursing the same beer... making it last... I want my reflexes to be sharp... don’t want to be dulled by anything... in case... I have... to...

Don’t wanna think about that...

The minutes drag by... I spend the night flicking my eyes between Justin and the door... waiting... waiting...

My gaze sets on Justin for a moment... his eyes scan the crowd and I see a crease cross his forehead... see the worry and apprehension he was hiding with his jokes and snide remarks... see the anxiousness and the way he pushes himself back up against the wall when anyone comes near... see the way his fingers are gripping the back of the stool... see him rub the sleeve of my old leather jacket... over and over and over...

In that instant I know I’ve made a terrible mistake... in that instant I fucking pray that the asshole we’re waiting for comes in so we can get this over with right fucking know... but that thought is followed so closely by another, more powerful hope... that... he doesn’t show up so that I don’t have to watch Justin go through with the fucking thing I asked him to do...

Sounded so easy when I was explaining to him... 

But... knowing that... this man killed... knowing that... the boy he killed... looks a bit like Justin...

Fuck...

I swallow hard and try not to puke...

The time ticks by slowly... my eye on the door... the barman asking me again and again... and me shaking my head... no... I don’t want another drink...

Justin... pushing away... one after the other... offers coming at him... solicitations... Christ... he’s so much better than this... so much... more than this... even if it’s pretend... even if it’s to help a good cause... even if...

I kick back on the stool and stand up... I check my watch... it’s late... almost closing time...

The fucker’s not coming tonight.

It’s over.

We can go home.

I approach Justin slowly, and his eyes meet mine... he looks me up and down and a grin starts across his face...

“Come on,” I say to him quietly.

He wrinkles his nose in that way that lets me know he’s gonna make a smart ass remark... and says out loud... “Hey mister... how’d you like to plow my smooth, tight ass?”

I smack him on the butt and grab his hand, leading him out... out of here... away from here...

We get in the car and he looks at me. “So...”

I shake my head, looking down at the steering wheel... I push the keys in the ignition, but don’t turn the engine on. I don’t even wanna look at him, I feel like such shit for all this. There’s nothing else to say.

“Well, my offer stands,” he says, leaning over to me... cupping my face in his palm... he pulls our lips together and we kiss softly... and I kick myself for ever thinking that I could go through with this... that I could let him... do this... no matter what the cause or benefit.

His fingers stroke my face lightly... running across my cheek... smoothing away the creases... erasing everything...

How come he can always make me feel better?

How come he always makes everything feel better?

Time for me to take him home... and do what I can to make it better for him.