


Speechless

by JustBeAQueen



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-08
Packaged: 2014-12-16 17:06:37
Rating: M
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,387
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6881724/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2598171/JustBeAQueen
Summary: I got an inspiration for a Brian/Justin story after hearing Speechless by Lady Gaga. I love the song, but one day it hit that it could totally fit Brian and how Justin would feel if Brian left him... this is the result. There is a happy ending BTW.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: So I've heard Speechless by Lady Gaga many times and I absolutely love the song, well all songs by Gaga, but that's beside the point. One day my muse (who happens to be Brian Kinney, but occasionally Justin will make his opinion known) put this in my mind and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. He just keeps nagging me until I write down every thought going through my mind. Some days he's quiet, other days there are too many thoughts and I can't write, but for this story we were very much in agreement.

**Mild warning**: Only for those who don't think Brian bottoms... well he does, for Justin, at times, it is canon... refer to episode 214. Thank you.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own the characters, the show or the song or song writer.

I like New York, at times I love it… but there are times that I truly miss the life I gave up, left behind…people I left, one person in particular, not for lack of trying though. I tried my damndest to make it work; I called every week and tried to visit when I could. The times we saw each other it was amazing, explosive, just like it had always been, but always new, as well. I still love him more than life itself, but when he gave up, he gave up on me, on us, on together. I couldn't believe it.

_I can't believe what you said to me__  
><em>_Last night when we were alone__  
><em>_You threw your hands up__  
><em>_Baby you gave up, you gave up___

_I can't believe how you looked at me__  
><em>_With your James Dean glossy eyes__  
><em>_In your tight jeans with your long hair__  
><em>_And your cigarette stained lies___

_Could we fix you if you broke?__  
><em>_And is your punch line just a joke?___

_I'll never talk again__  
><em>_Oh boy you've left me speechless__  
><em>_You've left me speechless, so speechless___

_And I'll never love again,__  
><em>_Oh boy you've left me speechless__  
><em>_You've left me speechless, so speechless_

I was going back after visiting you, back to New York, back to my art, to make something of myself, to be a big, fat, fucking success so that we could be equal, finally. When we finally let ourselves be together, truly, we would do it as equals. We'd both be successful, we'd both be big names in our perspective industries. We'd show everyone that two successful fags could have a loving, committed relationship.

And then you gave up. It was too hard you said. It was easier to make a clean break and not see each other anymore. I needed to move on and focus on my career. Fuck you I said. You laughed, you fucking laughed. You said we'd always love each other and maybe someday we'd be together again, but until then I needed to be in New York and you're place was in Pittsburgh. I even tried to get you to come stay with me, but you wouldn't. You always wanted to leave the Pitts and make it in the Big Apple, what happened to that? Why did you push me away, why are you always pushing me away?

_I can't believe how you slurred at me__  
><em>_With your half wired broken jaw__  
><em>_You popped my heart seams__  
><em>_On my bubble dreams, bubble dreams___

_I can't believe how you looked at me__  
><em>_With your Johnnie Walker eyes__  
><em>_He's gonna get you and after he's through__  
><em>_There's gonna be no love left to rye___

_And I know that it's complicated__  
><em>_But I'm a loser in love__  
><em>_So baby raise a glass to mend__  
><em>_All the broken hearts__  
><em>_Of all my wrecked up friends___

_I'll never talk again__  
><em>_Oh boy you've left me speechless__  
><em>_You've left me speechless so speechless___

_I'll never love again,__  
><em>_Oh friend you've left me speechless__  
><em>_You've left me speechless, so speechless___

_How?__  
><em>_Haaaa-oooo-wow?__  
><em>_H-ooow?__  
><em>_Wow___

_Haaaa-oooo-wow?__  
><em>_H-ooow?__  
><em>_Wow_

I drowned my sorrows when I got back, drowned in the world you showed me, the world where anything is possible and no one gives a fuck what you do or who you do. I can't remember the number of men or drugs or bars or clubs or backrooms. I don't remember names or faces or tastes or sounds, all I know is that no matter how deep I was, without you it was pointless. So here I am, trying to forget, trying to leave it all behind, trying to give it all up, so that when I go back, and I will Mr. Kinney, oh I will go back… and when I do I'll show you who I am, who I always have been and who I always will be no matter how the fuck hard you push.  
><em><br>__And after all the drinks and bars that we've been to__  
><em>_Would you give it all up?__  
><em>_Could I give it all up for you?___

_And after all the boys and girls that we've been through__  
><em>_Would you give it all up?__  
><em>_Could you give it all up?___

_If I promise boy to you__  
><em>_That I'll never talk again__  
><em>_And I'll never love again__  
><em>_I'll never write a song__  
><em>_Won't even sing along___

_I'll never love again__  
><em>_So speechless__  
><em>_You left me speechless, so speechless__  
><em>_Why you so speechless, so speechless?___

_Will you ever talk again?__  
><em>_Oh boy, why you so speechless?__  
><em>_You've left me speechless so speechless__  
><em>  
><em>Some men may follow me<em>_  
><em>_But you choose "death and company"__  
><em>_Why you so speechless? Oh oh oh_

God damn, mother fucking, son of a bitch… why, Brian, why did you do that to us… how could you do that to us? Doesn't he realize that it doesn't matter where the fuck I am, I will always love you, I will always be in love with you. I only left once when you couldn't give me what I wanted, but I never stopped loving you. Every time you push me away, I come back, haven't you figured that out yet? Don't you know that no matter where I am or what I'm doing, no one will ever replace you? You'll always be the only one for me… please don't give up. Please have some hope; please have open arms when I come back, please let me back in…

Please…

Please…

Brian…

…..

"Justin"

*whimper…sniff*

"Sunshine"

"Mmmm…please…"

"Please what Sunshine, why don't you wake up and tell me."

"Brian? … Brian!"

OH GOD! Brian's here… fuck… what a fucking nightmare. I grab him and hold him. Fuck I must look like a fucking mess, with tears running down my cheeks and red eyes, yeah, really fucking great Justin.

"God I've missed you."

Not what I was going for, but had to say it.

"I've only been gone for 3 days Sunshine…we've been apart longer than that before."

"Don't remind me. I'm sorry…and don't say that sorry's are bullshit, I'm sorry for all the shit we've been through and I hope you know I'll never leave you again. And I swear to mother fucking god if you ever push me away I'll drag you back kicking and screaming and tie you up if I have to."

"Kinky."

"Brian."

"Fine…I won't say sorry's bullshit, you know how I feel about apologies… and I already know you'll never leave again… as far as me pushing you away… I think we've tried that and it doesn't work, I am back, and I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to push you away… although we could do the tying up thing again that was fun and really hot."

"It's always about sex, isn't it?"

"Unless it's about death, but…"

[Spoken by both at the same time] "Death doesn't sell tickets."

"I can't believe you remembered that."

"I remember a lot more about that time than you think Sunshine. Although I believe we're passed that and don't need to go into any of that crap ever again…where's all this coming from anyway? I haven't seen you this upset over us in, well since I came back to get you."

"Thank you, by the way, I know I've said I love you and that I'll never leave and never let you push me away, but I don't think I've ever said thank you. I can't tell you how much it meant to me the day you showed up here knowing you were willing to give us a chance, to truly be what I always knew we could be."

"No need to thank me, I was fucking miserable without you. As usual, I thought I was doing what was best for you. It wasn't until after you left that I started thinking about everything we'd been through, the fact that I was pushing you away, again, and what you said finally started to kick in and make me realize that what we had was really worth fighting for."

God, I love this man, I truly do, and every time I think I can't love him anymore he does or says something like this and makes me fall even more.

"But you still haven't told me what brought this on. You haven't had nightmares in years, and I've been gone for business before."

"I know… it was…don't laugh cause this is probably gonna sound stupid, but I heard a new song yesterday that I think had something to do with it. It reminded me of everything we had been through and how stubborn you always were."

"A song… a song brought to mind everything we've been through and caused you to have nightmares?"

"See, I said it was fucking ridiculous, I don't know why it did, maybe…"

"My little drama princess…music can be powerful, when we're in the right mood, or wrong mood, for that matter. Maybe next time I have to travel for business I'll just have to take you with me… that probably would have solved it. I must admit that I sleep much better with you in my arms… and I know I sleep much more soundly after a long hard night's fuck."

"Brian… and I'm not a drama princess."

[Brian delivers to Justin a pointed stare with patented and proven Kinney smirk.]

"Okay, maybe a little drama princess, and I'd love to go on your trips with you, but, like you said, it's happened before, it'll happen again, and I had to stay here to finish my last few pieces for my show next weekend. I need to get over this, I'll just have to make sure to not listen to the radio, and play my own music."

"So are you going to tell me what this song was that caused my Sunshine to be so blue?"

"Ummm… I'm not sure… it's a very powerful song and while the lyrics fit, it's a tad darker and deeper than I think what we went through."

[Another pointed stare.]

"Okay, well maybe it is more fitting than I stated, but I don't want you to think that anything in this song is how I feel now."

[Still staring and smirking.]

"Alright, it's Speechless by Lady Gaga."

"Okay, never heard it, I like her other songs though, can't imagine she would have a song that would be so meaningful… usually they're all about sex and fucking, I love those songs."

"Not every song has to be about fucking you know, whether it is or isn't and you just choose to hear that."

"I can't help it if I'm a cock man, and it happens to agree with that summary…so knowing you, you have this song on your iPod already, so you may as well go get it and let me hear it."

He's right, unfortunately, I did download it, and in hind sight that probably wasn't a very good idea.

So I play it for him, and as I knew it would, his face clouds, his eyes darken a little, his mood sours. I know what he's thinking, it's the exact same thoughts I went through. And I can see that he's blaming himself for what we went through then, and what I went through these few days with him away.

"Brian."

He's just sitting there staring at the wall. So I do the only thing I can do, I start to undress him. He just got home after a long business trip, probably expecting him to have his typical welcome home fucking and love making session. But he didn't get that, he needs me right now, more than he may know, to make him feel how I feel. I need to show him that as powerful as this song is, we have the power to overcome anything, we have, we will, and we will always be together, wherever we are.

After hanging up and putting away his clothes, cause regardless of how he feels right now, he'll be fucking pissed if I don't hang up his Armani suit the moment he takes it off. He looks sad, a little pissed, a little worried and a little confused. He's probably wondering why I'm still here, why I keep coming back. One of these days I hope he stops doubting himself.

I lay him down on his stomach and when he's about to protest I just stare at him. His stare/smirk/face can say a number of things, much more so than words, but when I want to… my face can say the same amount of things. He knows to just lay there and accept what I'm doing. He needs, we need this for ourselves and each other.

"Stay there, don't move." I whisper as I kiss his shoulder.

I go to the bathroom and get some massage oil, we haven't had the chance to use it, and while I was hoping it would be used on some fun evening, I believe we need it tonight. As I walk back into the bedroom I can't help but noticing how absolutely stunning Brian is. No matter how much time passes and how much older he gets, I mean he's almost 40, and I know to him that's a lot older than he thinks, but I swear he still looks as young, hot and beautiful as he did when I first saw him approach me under that street lamp 9 years ago.

I make sure I grab the lube on the way, just to be prepared, cause once I start I won't want to stop to get up.

I climb on, straddling his legs, which causes a soft sigh to escape his mouth. A sigh which at one time I would have missed, but now, all his noises are noticeable to me, and I know what all of them mean. I take the oil and warm it in my hands before leaning over him and start to rub his shoulders, slowly, smoothly, sensually. I move out to his arms and spread them out from his body before rubbing them with my hands. My chest rubbing his back as I rub his arms, trying not to put too much pressure on my cock, which I'm willing to stay soft enough to ignore while I concentrate on Brian, and making him relax and feel good. It's not easy, but it wouldn't exactly help to massage him while I come all over his back. I do have more control than I used to. I have to chuckle at that.

"What...cha laughing about?" He forces out the question, partly because he's really enjoying my massaging his back, neck and shoulders, but partly because he might not want the answer. And he calls me a drama princess, if I'm a drama princess, he's a drama queen.

"I was just thinking that it's a good thing I have control, otherwise I'd be coming all over your back before I finish your massage. And I remembered a time when I had no control, and came all over you, when you were on the phone."

He waits a few seconds before responding… I wonder why…

"You're lucky I liked you even then, otherwise I would have really been pissed."

"If I didn't know you now as well as I do I'd say that that was really pissed. I should have figured at the time you couldn't stay too mad at me, after all, you let me name your son and come back with you…"

"And what a night that was. I still don't remember some of it, but I do remember you being the best fuck I'd ever had."

"Really… even then… I was a virgin and I was the best?"

"Don't let it go to your head…well, not the one that you think matters, anyway."

"Hmmm… so I was the best… am I still the best you've ever had?"

"I think that speaks for itself, and the fact that we don't use condoms anymore should say it all."

"Mmm… that it does… do you remember what you said to me that night?"

By now I've moved down and am massaging his legs and feet, paying extra special attention to his toes. You know I never would have thought I would have a foot fetish, but where Brian's feet are involved, I absolutely do. The man has perfect feet. Course it helps he gets pedicures regularly, not that he'll ever admit it, but even without pedicures, they are the perfect size, feel, proportion, his toes are perfect, the bottom of his feet, the top of his feet… perfect fucking feet. And he really enjoys his toes being massaged, or licked, or sucked but massage oil tastes terrible. Hmmm… I'll have to find some edible massage oil for next time.

He's paused to think about my question and eventually shakes his head no.

"You said you always wanted me to remember it so that no matter who I was ever with you'd always be there."

"Mmmm."

"And when you came that first time…you said you loved me."

"I did?"

"Mmmm…I thought for sure you meant it at the time, that was part of the reason I started stalking you, as your friends so wonderfully called it."

"You did stalk me… it wasn't them, it was you Sunshine."

"Well, call it what you will, I knew… of course I was really stupid when I saw Daphne the next day, I must have sounded like a love-sick kid."

He turns his head and smirks again.

"Okay, fine, I was a love-sick kid, but I knew, that night, that first time, when you let me name Gus, and when you said you'd always be there, I knew you were the one I'd always want, I told Daphne that next morning that I'd seen the face of god, and his name was Brian Kinney."

"You said that… how pathetic."

"Hey, love-struck teenager, I was bound to sound pathetic… but that doesn't make it any less true."

I slide up his body, all this talk about our first night, our first time, well times, I'm so hard it hurts, and I can feel he's completely relaxed and almost over our earlier discussion and his hurt feelings. I lay flat against him, with my cock resting nicely between his ass cheeks. I can't help but grinding down a little as I nip his earlobe and speak even softer than we have been.

"I love you Brian Kinney, more than anything else, ever. I still think you have the face, and body of a god, I love you more now than I did then and unbelievably, I'll probably love you even more tomorrow and each and every day than I do right now. There has never, and I mean, absolutely never, been anyone else that I have loved, you will always hold my heart, mind, body and soul, and there's not a damn thing you can say or do to change that, ever. And now that I've been about as romantic as you can probably stand, I'm gonna fuck you into the mattress so fucking hard you're gonna feel me inside you for the next fucking week."

I'm grinding through that whole last sentence, and it's almost impossible to talk, but I have to say it. And as Brian is moaning while I'm talking, I can tell he's listening and hearing and understanding and accepting, exactly what I said, and exactly what I mean.

I reach over for the lube and warm some in my fingers before rolling to the side, just a little to slide one finger in.

"Uuuhhh…"

God, so tight… I know he's never bottom for anyone since me, but me, only me, but it's still not that often. There are times though, that he needs to be taken, needs to feel that love and fullness and passion and acceptance and possession that you can only get from being bottom to the man who loves you.

I work in a second and third finger, fucking him, loosening him, slowly, torturously, grazing his prostate every other stroke. He's fucking loving this, I can tell, and I know he needs it, just like I do. I've always been a top, outside of Brian… always! I bottom for Brian because, like there was any choice… but after that first time, how could anyone else possibly compare to him. He's grinding his hips into the mattress, moaning and groaning as I finger fuck him. I use my other hand to lube my cock so I can slide in fast after removing my fingers. I'm grinding into his hip as I loosen him, god, fucking him is such a huge fucking turn on. As much as I love to bottom for Brian, I love topping him, too. It's not the power, it's the fact that he's letting me have that power, he's allowing me to own him, to be in control, he's trusting me with him, with his heart… I will never allow him or I to ever lose that again.

I pull my fingers out, as he groans a protest at the loss (I know how he feels), then grab my cock and slide in. We both have to groan and gasp at that; so fucking perfect. I start moving in and out, slowly, bury all the way deep and slide almost all the way out. There's something about the position where he's lying flat and I'm riding him, but fucking him, making love to him at the same time, fuck, what a fucking huge turn on. As I feel the urge to start pounding harder and faster, I take a little time to say something I've always wanted to say, but never have had the chance.

"I want you to always remember this Brian Kinney…so that no matter where you are… no matter what you're doing…you'll know that you belong to me…you are mine, always… and I will always be there, with you, in you, as you will always be with me and in me. I'll always be here, I'm never going anywhere…ever again, Brian."

He's gasping with every stroke, not only because of my cock in his ass, but because of what I'm saying. And I know that as much as I would love to fuck face to face, right now he needs this moment, I can see unshed tears, just sitting on his eye lashes. I'll give him this moment and fuck him into the mattress.

I bring my legs between his and use my legs to push his legs up, all the while staying buried balls deep. He gets the idea and helps move, so I can grab his hips and drive and ram and slam into him over and over again, in and out, harder, faster, deeper. He's calling out my name each time I pound his prostate. I call his name and scream I love you Brian right as I come. I reach around to grab his cock and finish him off, I didn't mean to come before him, but after tonight, I couldn't help but come fast. He screams my name and says I love you as he comes. I don't know if I could get hard again, but as Brian says that, I can feel my cock respond by throbbing a little, trying to pump more into Brian's perfect ass. Trying to stay hard so that it can stay buried into the most perfect ass of the most perfect lover and man, ever.

We both collapse after coming and try and get our breathing under control. I reluctantly pull out as I soften and I go to get a cloth to clean us up, giving Brian a moment to compose himself. Even after all this time, after everything we've been through, he's still not fond of emotions, and he needs some space after something like that.

As I pull out a washcloth to wet it with warm water I hear light footsteps behind me. I still give him room and ring out the cloth as I hear the shower turn on, huh…

"Sunshine?"

I turn around to answer and what I see surprises me. He looks happy, truly happy, and open… and free… he looks honestly at peace, calm and really okay.

"Join me?"

I can only nod, turn off the sink, drop the cloth and take Brian's out stretched hand.

He pulls me into the warm water. Not quite as hot as he likes it, but hotter than I would have it. He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me and his face…he smiles, really smiles… a smile that… I haven't seen since Britin, when I agreed to marry him. (People call me Sunshine because of my smile, but Brian's smile…my smile may light up a room, but Brian's smile can melt the most frozen hearts and light's up your whole life.) Great, now I think I'm gonna cry. Way to wrap up topping Brian.

"Such a sentimental little twat."

"Oh, like you're any…"

He cuts me off with his lips, well, there are worse ways to be told to shut up, and Brian's mouth and lips and tongue are among the absolute best way to be told to shut up. God I love this man, love fucking him, love kissing him, love making love to him, love loving him, love talking and listening to him, love sharing a life with him. His lips feel so good, and his tongue…amazing. We're both softly moaning into each other's mouths. Both reveling in the subtle change that seems to be taking place. He breaks away first, to catch his breath, but pulls back a little further, but still holding on tight.

"Sunshine… you know how I feel about emotions and talking and all that crap…even though I've gotten better…it's still hard."

I smirk at him, this time.

"Not that kind of hard at the moment, but later, definitely later your ass will be receiving the same treatment you gave mine."

I can't help but shudder at that. I have a lot better control than I used to, but Brian can still get hard a lot more often than I can, and I must say, that no matter how many times Brian has fucked me, my ass can withstand a lot of poundings. Which I have to say, is just fine with me. If Brian wants to fuck 4 or 5 times a day, then my ass is all his, or my mouth, cause I love giving Brian blow jobs. Annnnd he must be able to tell I'm wondering cause he's smirking at me.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Sunshine…well, for now at least."

"Okay, but I was so enjoying thinking about how much I love giving you blow jobs… the taste of your…"

This time he stops me talking with his finger… uh oh, that means he wants to be a bit more serious, I'll stop, for now. I smile and nod and kiss his finger. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"You know I don't do anything small… that too, obviously, as I know your body can agree with…but I'm going to say something I haven't said in a long time and this time I want you to think about the answer."

Okay… interesting… when Brian gets serious… no matter how much I know him, he can always surprise me.

"We've both lived together in New York for over a year, and have been monogamous and condom free for about as long. What's say that before your show the following weekend, we take a little time this weekend and take a trip to Vermont and make this whole thing official?"

What…he…just…did he…

[Smirking, knowing full well the meaning of those words and how Justin would take them and react to them.]

"Marry me, Justin…if you need time to think about it and want to wait, take as much time as you need, I'll be here. As I said before I'm taking a chance on love and I would say anything, I'd be anything, I'll do anything to make you happy. Whenever you're ready, I'm here, I'm waiting."

…..

Wow, I just…wow…wasn't sure…didn't know…he's ready, really ready. I guess the whole no condoms thing (which is still fucking incredible, it's amazing what you can feel without that thin latex barrier… the first time I wanted to shout to the whole world that I was fucking Brian Kinney raw, but kept it to myself…kept him to myself…oh yeah!) should have said that, but still, to hear that he still wants to be married, officially, in Vermont, legally, ceremony.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Oh brother… I guess I should have seen that coming.

"Yes…shh…Yes, I'll marry you. I will marry you Brian Kinney. And if you want to go this weekend, I can absolutely take a break from painting for a couple of days to marry the only man I'll ever want, ever love, ever be with. I love you, Brian, so much, more than I can ever express, you mean more to me than anything or anyone else ever will."

"Ditto, Sunshine, ditto… and you're sure…about..."

This time I stop him with my finger.

"I don't need any time at all, I know what I want, and it's you… do I have any second thoughts? … Not one."

And with that the two lovers finished their shower quickly and returned to their bed so that Brian could return the favor to Justin of being pounded into the mattress as if their lives and asses, and cocks for that matter, depended on it.

That weekend they flew to Vermont, just the two of them, and Justin's mother, although he had one heck of a time trying to convince her to meet them in Vermont. Not only did they need a witness, but they knew that after all she had done for them over the years, including finding Britin, which Brian admitted to still having, not only because it was Justin's, in Justin's and Brian's name (which shocked Justin to surprising proportions, not often is he speechless that often), she had every right to be there to see them get married. Not to mention that once back in Pittsburgh she could spread the news about their marriage. A marriage that was very simply, but completely romantic, and as fate had it, they were able to get the honeymoon suite and Brian ordered all Justin's (and his) favorites for dinner and dessert that evening before flying back the next day.

Brian promised to take Justin on a real honeymoon that summer, to Italy and France. Brian surprised Justin once more during their marriage ceremony when he pulled out the rings that Brian originally purchased. Only this time they were engraved. "Always" was inscribed inside both rings, one word, nothing more, for when Brian Kinney makes a promise of always, he will keep it, always!

Justin gave Brian something as well. The song which started this whole tale inspired Justin to paint something, that he aptly named "Speechless." It was of Justin's back, inside his apartment, and Brian's back outside the same apartment. It was the day Brian had left, trying to make a clean break, the day when Justin had truly been speechless. It was dark, depressing and powerful. The features were not that clear up close, but because of the technique Justin used to paint it… up close it was a swirl of deep dark colors that drew you in, making you question life and love and good and evil. From afar you could tell how much pain both men in the painting were in, you could sense the dark mood, the sorrow and pain almost radiating out from the canvas. Enough to walk away from, but powerless to not get pulled in.

After Justin's and Brian's wedding, Justin had to do a companion to Speechless. To celebrate their wedding, the happiest day in Justin's life, so far, and since meeting Brian, he had thought he already had had that day, a few times. So he painted another picture, of both of them, on their wedding night. The debate between art and porn has been ongoing for quite some time, but Justin knew that if he painted a work of art of Brian and he making love, on any night, much less their wedding night, there would be no debate. It would porn, plain and simple (or deep and hard, depending on how you look at it), and that would not do in a gallery.

That didn't stop him from painting exactly what he wanted, though. He first did a small sketch, in full color, of exactly what he wanted to show. It was he and Brian, in their suite, in post orgasmic ecstasy, full of the love and passion and understanding and pleasure and complete and utter enjoyment. He drew them from above, but with them laying on their side, so you could see their faces, and the way their bodies were entwined. In a sea a rich burgundy silk, completely uncovered, still warm from their previous enjoyable exertion, covered in a light sheen of sweat (and of course, come, but that was only visible if you looked very closely).

The large canvas painting was the same as the sketch, but the colors and their bodies were blurred and muted so that you could tell exactly what the two lovers had been doing, but no features were clear. Even their faces were slightly blurred. Justin's idea was that while this painting was exactly the same as the sketch, it was blurred enough to represent two lovers entwined in bed, in heaven, in each other's arms. And while he knew it was Brian and Justin, being slightly skewed, any observer could imagine themselves in the painting, as either lover; with whatever partner they so choose. The idea that anyone could imagine and enjoy the passion these two undefined lovers were sharing.

The sketch he titled Always, his promise to Brian to match Brian's promise to him, through their rings. He had it framed was going to give it Brian the night after the opening of his show, which, if everything went as planned, would be sitting on their bed, on Brian's pillow, waiting for their return. The large painting, to match, and counteract, Speechless, he named Evocative Eloquence.

While lost in Speechless the viewer truly had no words to describe the incredible loss felt. Conversely, starring at Evocative Eloquence, the viewer was filled with all the loving, fulfilling, beautiful, romantic, passionate words one could think of.


	2. Chapter 2: Epilogue

Justin's solo show was a success, of course. Brian knew it would be, people from all through the art world, and those outside the art world who just enjoy artwork, always show up for Justin's shows. Justin's agent was very pleased that everything went smoothly, for the most part. All but two paintings sold, and the only reason they didn't sell was because of the artist. Justin wasn't ready to part with Speechless or Evocative Eloquence. All his artwork has pictures taken and put together in a book with his description of each and sometimes the inspiration behind the pieces. It's not that he needed to keep the two paintings, he just couldn't part with them yet. And let me tell you, the buzz that was created from an artist that always had sold out shows not selling his pieces…it was practically scandalous. It was also better than any marketing or advertising that you can pay for. Just as Brian had discovered (technically as Justin had told Brian) when you tell someone they can't have something, they want it even more.

The demand that Justin was creating for himself, accidentally, was so large that Brian thought it was the perfect time to mention wanting them to move together, to a certain house that Brian was hoping to use very soon. Brian had been in New York for a year, and while he loved the city, it was everything living in New York was supposed to be, the problem was New York was indeed a huge city where you could fulfill every dream you had. So when wanting some peace and quiet or some time off, it was very difficult to make those things happen. He could also tell the last couple of shows that Justin had were straining him more and more. He had had two solo shows since Brian moved to New York and several joint shows, and a few pieces always on display at various galleries. Being an artist truly fit Justin, but when you get to the point of being told what to paint when, even an artist, especially an artist, needs a break.

Being away from New York would definitely benefit Justin, he could create whenever he felt the need, without the pressure of agents or clients knocking at your door. Advertising was different, Brian not only was used to clients demanding his time, but he expected to be demanded. When they stopped coming to your door, then you're in trouble. But when you're an artist, you don't want to be in demand that way. You want to be demanded, but that's what an agent is for, to control those demands and take care of those clients who were serious and who weren't. And if Justin could deal with his agent away from New York, then all the better for Justin's creativity.

As for Brian, he was looking forward to moving back, well, kind of, since Britin was not in the Pitts (thank god). He would have moved anywhere with Justin, to be with Justin. He had no problems working via satellite with Kinnetik and he made sure to always travel to his clients when they needed him, and he would fly back to the Pitts when necessary, but it would be nice to not have to rely on planes. He always thought that living on the go, traveling in first class, staying in the best hotels, wining and dining the best, with the most money, was a perfect life. But now that he had Justin, found him and never wanted to let go, traveling was just living out of a suitcase and knowing Justin was at home waiting for him made even the best planes and hotels a little better than living out of a car.

Brian's only hope was that Justin would be thrilled about moving and living in Britin. He was also counting on the fact that any objections Justin might raise would be stopped before they started when he would suggest that they live in Britin. It was a little bit further to New York from West Virginia than the Pitts, but they would have to fly from the Pitts no matter where they lived. Not to mention no matter how big Justin was in the art world, things changed and to be away from all that, in the safety and comfort of your own home when you get to the point when you are no longer in demand at all, will be more than worth it.

Not to mention all the money they'll be saving from not having to rent an apartment and studio and pay for Britin. And the apartment they had now was a nice apartment, it wasn't as big as the loft, but it was definitely a step up from what Justin had originally had when he moved to New York. Then there was the separate studio, which seemed more like going to work than going to create. Justin wasn't meant for a regular job, he needed to have the time and freedom to be creative and create when the mood hit, not when it was convenient or expected.

The night of Justin's show was quickly winding down. One of the down sides of having a solo show is that you're expected to stay for most of the evening, since you're the only artist there. Brian had already arranged for a limo to and from the show, not only so they wouldn't have to drive in New York, but also so that they could have a private, but immediate, celebration before heading back to their apartment. For Brian knew that Justin's show would be a success. And of course after having seen his two centerpieces, how could the show not be a success. It surprised Brian that Justin wasn't going to sell his two main pieces, but he was equally surprised that Justin wasn't keeping them. Brian would have loved to have one. He already owned a couple pieces. Obviously the original drawing, now at Britin, a couple paintings at Britin and Kinnetik, and two in their apartment.

Brian plans to tell Justin about their hopeful, impending move tonight, after their frantically, feverish fuck in the back of the limo. After dressing, in at least their pants and shirts and shoes, they make their way up to their apartment. Justin is more quiet than usual and Brian hopes its post-show adrenaline loss. However when Justin opens the door first and tells Brian to go change and he'll be right there, and then he gets to the bedroom, Brian is at a loss for words. Justin approaches Brian with two flutes of chilled champagne and notices Brian. He smiles. Both men appreciating, but for different reasons, that Justin's smaller, clear, vivid, version of Speechless has left Brian truly speechless.

Brian hears footsteps behind him, but still has to clear his throat a couple times and take a deep breath before speaking.

"It still amazes me, that after all this time you still see me like that."

"What… beautiful and sexy when naked?"

*chuckle* "No, well yes, kind of…that after all the shit we've been through you still me as beautiful. I look so open and happy and …peaceful. It's almost disconcerting. If it wasn't for the fact that it's you who sees me that way I would say it's not true."

"But it is true. That is how I see you. You are open and happy and beautiful and peaceful. I know for the longest time you said you didn't believe in love, and I think that was because you didn't know what it was or how to feel or process it. I'm just lucky to be the one that helped you realize what love was and how to embrace it and accept it and enjoy it."

"You did that Sunshine, only you. I don't know about luck, but I know that no one else, no matter what they did, ever showed me the love, acceptance, patience and the ability to see straight through me that you do. You have already thanked me for being here, for choosing you, but I never thanked you for saving me. You think I saved you, but you're stronger than you think and I think, no, I know you could and would have saved yourself if you wanted to. You have saved me more times than you know. And the fact that you still see me like that, that I have the ability to look like that, it amazes me."

"You know for being not so good with emotions and expressing yourself, I'd say you're doing a phenomenal job. You know I named that drawing Always, not only to match the rings you gave me, for us, but also as my promise to you that no matter what, I'll always be there, always be trying, always loving you and always open, waiting and accepting."

"I can hear a view jokes in there, but I won't voice them as I want to keep the tone were going for here. Maybe not serious, and maybe more than a little ridiculously romantic [both smile at that reference, even though those events were never completely remembered, they have, through talking, have rehashed and moved past that night], but on the note of always, I wanted to ask you something that I am ready for, but I want to know if you're ready, too."

"As long as it involves you, I'm ready for anything."

"Well, you may want to listen before responding in the affirmative."

"That sounds foreboding."

"I guess that would depend on your point of view."

"You're scaring me Brian, just come out and say it."

"I want a house, a life, a real life, away from New York, with quiet evenings, time to just be with each other, a yard, maybe some toys for when Gus comes to visit, a place that Gus can actually come to visit, a… a home."

"You know if you had said that a couple of weeks ago I might have thrown that back at you and not thought you were serious, but after last weekend, after our…wedding. God I still can't believe we're actually married. Even though I've only worn this ring a week…"

"It's like it's always been there… meant to be there."

"Yeah."

"So what do you say about a home, with me, away from New York, where you can have your own studio and paint whenever the mood strikes and I can have an office rather than a little desk with a laptop."

"Where would it be, though? Housing in New York is expensive, and I don't really want to move back to the Pitts. I mean if that's where you want to go, I'll look with you, but I think a little further away from family might be nice."

"Funny you should mention family and not the Pitts… I have a suggestion, one which you seem to have forgotten, but I hope accidentally and not because you wanted to forget."

Brian waits patiently as he sees Justin trying to think of something that might help, but apparently nothing is coming… well, not yet, anyway. *grin*

"You're enjoying that I can't remember, aren't you?"

"Among other things… enjoying the view, as well….what about… Britin?"

"Britin? Oh my god, that's right, I had completely forgotten about that… you kept it…you mean that's where you want to live? You want to live in…"

"The country manor of your dreams?"

*smile* "I was going to say West Virginia… but that does beg the question, if it's the country manor of my dreams, what about your dreams, if there's somewhere else you want to pick, you're welcome to."

"Sunshine… I did pick, remember? When I bought the palace…for my prince…I chose it, I saw it, I bought it. It might have been your dream, but do you think that I would have picked that house, even a house for you, had I not wanted a house like that as well? It's perfect for both of us. It's not only huge, I mean talk about a status symbol, which I've always been into, but it has a huge piece of property. Every kid grows up wanting their own pool and stables and horses to ride when they want. The master bedroom is big enough for the largest bed we want, a sitting area and it has a fireplace. The master bathroom has a sunken in hot tub bathtub and a shower big enough to fit, well… two people only who move a lot. And it's so huge that even if we're driving each other crazy we'll be able to go to our own safe haven and still need a map and compass to find each other."

"Wow, you've really thought this through, haven't you."

"More than you know."

"I don't why it seems so sudden, it shouldn't. I mean we've been living together for over a year, and we've lived together before for longer than that. I love Britin and I would love living there. I have gotten tired of New York, more than I thought I would. And you'd be able to be that much closer to Kinnetik and you wouldn't have to travel as much. And while I hear you about what you wanted as a kid, I do believe it's the master suite that has so convinced you that Britin is where you want to live. It will be weird being back there. I haven't seen it in…"

"Hey, let's not go there, it's okay. It's not like we can move right away, though. I've, ummm, had a cleaning crew and contractor out to the house to modernize it a bit, fix anything that might be wrong, refinish all the hard wood floors, replace all the carpet with hard wood floors and refinish all the furniture that came with the house. Some of it was really beautiful and I just couldn't get rid of it. All the fireplaces needed cleaning and refurbishing. And of course the kitchen needed updating. Our bedroom and bathroom are completely ready as well, but all the other rooms, from the living room to the bedrooms to the other bathrooms all need the expert hand of someone who knows how to decorate and finish a manor of such magnificence. You don't happen to know anyone who would be able to plan all that, would you?"

"You're*grin* you're fucking unbelievable."

"It's true, I am."

"God, I love you…and I would be more than happy to move to Britin with you and work with whatever decorator/contractor you want me to work with… but I'll probably need to walk through it again to figure out what's left to do and then we'll have to see what, if anything needs to be done with the landscaping, and then I'll have to set aside some time for the artwork for the place. If I'm decorating, it's gonna have my artwork hanging in all the rooms."

"I wouldn't have it any other way… but I think you're getting ahead of yourself. I think we have something to celebrate tonight and we haven't even started with the festivities, yet."

"Yes we did, in the limo on the way here."

"Oh, Sunshine… have I taught you nothing, that wasn't even close to the start of what I planned on doing with you. Add to that the fact that you want to move to Britin with me… all the more celebrating that needs to be done… cause you're not leaving this bed until I've fucked you into the mattress so many times that we're both covered in come and sweat and can't walk straight for a week."

And with that Brian tackled Justin to the bed where they both proceeded to strip each other completely and have their fill of the most sensational, demanding, powerful, dominating, satisfying lover each of them had ever had. They rimmed, rammed, fucked, sucked, made love, cuddled, and loved each other until well after the sun came up and they passed out in pleasurable, euphoric exhaustion.

The week passed quickly for both men, who spent their time on the phone, online and occasionally in person to make sure that everyone (in New York anyway) knew they would be moving when the time was right and that that weekend they would be out of town making sure their new home would be ready for when they did move.

Justin's agent was more supportive of his move than Justin thought she would be. He thought for sure she was going to convince him that New York was where he needed to be, but after spending a few days almost non-stop on the phone with anyone and everyone interested in Justin Taylor the artist, his paintings, and especially his paintings he wouldn't sell, he would be the talk of the art world no matter where he went. And she was completely convinced that he could literally paint from anywhere in the world and still do great. She only advised him that when Justin was finally in his house that he set aside some space for a gallery, more than a studio, so that when clients came to him he would have a place to show his work outside his studio. There's nothing worse than walking through your studio as your showcase, not because of the possible mess, but because art collector's would love nothing more than to see exactly what you were working on and try to convince you to part with anything. Then there was competition… you never wanted your studio open to anyone you didn't implicitly trust.

Justin spent two whole days walking through Britin with the contractors. Brian had done an outstanding job with their master suite, it was truly Brian's style in the bathroom (not that Justin objected, at all), but the bedroom was so close to what Justin wanted in a master bedroom that he was trying to remember a time if he had ever told Brian what he wanted. Over all there wasn't a whole lot left, plumbing, minor electrical, refinishing the deck that wrapped around the back of the house. Justin did have them add to the deck to include a built in barbeque, sink, wet bar, cabinets, small fridge, and wine cooler. All of it in brick and tile, completely covered with a built-in/attached gazebo, lighting and ceiling fan. Justin then spent some time with an interior decorator/designer that he had met during his time at PIFA, who was also still in Pittsburgh and was a fan of Justin's.

They planned all the paint, furniture, mattresses, bedding, bath essentials, rugs, some indoor (low-maintenance) plants. He took great strides in planning Gus's bedroom, or at least the room that he intended for Gus. He also made sure that the rooms next to Gus's would be appropriate for Mel and Linds and JR, not that Brian would ever admit to wanting Mel to stay there, but should the need arise and they want to be with Gus, Brian would agree in a heartbeat (albeit through protests, curses and insults). The only last room on his list was his studio, which, after Brian's suggestion, Justin chose the pool house. It was not only very close to the house, so it wouldn't be hard to get to in any weather, but it had so many windows that it would be perfect for natural light. Not to mention it had no furniture, so there was nothing to move. And the fact that it had a small kitchen and bathroom, with shower, was absolutely perfect.

As far as his gallery, Justin was still stunned at Brian's suggestion. Kinnetik had more than enough rooms, and if he were to move his large conference room to the back of Kinnetik, to one of the rooms that were only used for storage, the front room could be easily converted into a small gallery. It didn't need to be a fully functioning gallery, just a space for some of Justin's completed work. This way the clients didn't have to come to their home, and there would be more control over the patrons coming to view Justin's work. Brian was handling that while he spent a few days in his actual office while Justin was handling everything at Britin.

It seemed very odd to head back to New York to finish up everything they needed to complete there. Justin had to close out his studio and pack up everything there and send it Britin. They also had to pack up their apartment and have everything there shipped to Britin… fortunately the furniture and appliances could stay. Some of it came with the apartment, but they didn't need any of it anyway. The last purchase that Brian had insisted on upon their return to informally move in to Britin (thank god their bedroom and the kitchen were taken care of) was a car for Justin. Brian still had his Corvette and Jeep, but he knew Justin would need a car. Justin was fine using Brian's Jeep, or a cab, or the bus even, but he also knew that he wouldn't hear the end of Brian's endless complaints until he relented. He ignored the complaints of something happening to the Jeep, and the complaints of Justin's driving, but he finally gave in when the Jeep got a flat one day in between the Pitts and the house. Brian had absolutely put his foot down that Justin needed something dependable, sturdy and safe, and it better as hell look good.

Justin gave in because he finally recognized Brian's concern for him more than just wanting to buy him a car that looked good. Justin did have two proviso's that he insisted on; that he pay for it and he get to choose what it was. Not that it took much to convince Brian to agree. Justin sealed the deal with promising 5 sexual favors of Brian's choosing, no limits, no holds barred, Brian was completely and utterly content to let Justin choose whatever car he wanted and pay for it. After careful consideration, test drives, reviews, online comments and research, images, videos, consumer satisfaction and performance, Justin decided on the Ford Escape Hybrid. Brian wasn't completely thrilled, but at least he didn't choose a Honda or Scion or one of those damned Nissan Cube's that seemed to be popular.

Two months to the day after Justin's solo show in New York, Brian and Justin were officially moved into Britin, all unpacking done, all decorating finished, all painting dry and furniture where it was supposed to be. Justin's gallery was finished as well, but that was less of an accomplishment than completing this huge mansion. Justin's studio was everything he'd always wanted and the fact that it was where Brian was, they were both living together in a house of their design and choice was more than Justin ever thought possible. Justin was still trying to figure out if he should ask Brian about a housewarming party (keep laughing…if that's Brian's only reaction then Justin will be lucky) when he got an interesting envelope in the mail.

During Justin's time in New York, the whole time, with Brian and without Brian (and then truly without him and then with him when Brian came back) Justin had had his work displayed many places. The great thing about New York was that even if large galleries weren't interested, most universities had their own art galleries, and they were for more than students. And the number of universities in New York is mind-boggling, and the number of those universities solely dedicated to the arts was stunning. Justin had several shows at universities throughout New York, especially since the art community was well connected, and anyone who had the somewhat notoriety of Justin from his days at PIFA, the controversial circumstances surrounding Stockwell and his unique, but interesting and well known, trip to Hollywood (and obviously his work as an already published comic book artist)… well, let's just say that the universities were more than happy to display some of Justin's work. Justin even agreed to provide a couple galleries with special Rage paintings due to that art schools primary academic programs focusing on media, entertainment, and graphic art.

When Brian got home, a term/concept/place/feeling/idea that he still was overwhelmed by, and entirely enjoying, he wasn't sure where Justin was. Not that Justin had a particular place to be, but Brian could usually hear where Justin was. Brian went to change and hopefully find Justin waiting for him in bed…however, he wasn't there. Justin wasn't in the kitchen, dining room, his study…ah, one place left, his studio. This might take some time getting used to. In New York since his studio was somewhere else, he never had to guess, as Justin just wasn't home. Now, though, his studio was here…what a comforting idea. If he weren't so fucking thrilled that they were finally living here, Britin, the manor he bought for his prince, together, married, doing exactly what he, actually, always wanted, he would be terrified of this homey feeling of being safe and comfortable.

Yep…Justin was in his studio, the lights were one. What did concern Brian was when he went to open the door Justin wasn't painting, drawing, or even moving. He was just sitting there, staring straight ahead, facing away from the door.

"Hey Sunshine."

…..

"Justin!"

"Huh?"

"You okay?"

"Oh, yeah, fine, I…oh, you're home…wow, that feels weird, in a really good way."

"I know what you mean, this is the first time we've actually been semi-normal in, what two months?"

"Yeah…"

"Hey, what's wrong? You know if you miss my fucking you into the mattress as soon as I get home, I'm right here, that certainly doesn't have to change now that the place is finished."

"Brian…no… I mean yes, kind of, but… oh, here."

Justin hands Brian a letter which Justin's clearly been holding a while since it's rumpled… and Brian can tell that it's very expensive paper, complete with embossed logo and everything. WOW, from Pratt Institute. That's one of the best art universities in New York.

_Dear Mr. Taylor,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been nominated to receive an Honorary Master of Fine Arts from the Pratt Institute for your outstanding contributions to the art community at large, the art community in New York, and your unique and innovative techniques in your artistic endeavors in New York and Pittsburgh. _

_You have showed tremendous talent and skill from very early in your education at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts, as well as your ingenious use of colors, designs, shapes and styles in your abstract and traditional artistic works. You have demonstrated a true understanding of the integrity of artists and free thinkers in your propaganda art used during your time at PIFA. Even though that campaign created quite the controversy, and your eventual suspension, you held true to your beliefs and fought for what you believed was right. In the tradition and spirit of great artists, the world over, you were proven correct in your ideas and your determination paid off. _

_You have taken your personal views and beliefs in combination to your graphic use of color and imagery in a very untraditional medium: comic books. Your graphic novel Rage not only inspired a full length motion picture, but has received attention and accolades nationally and internationally. We realize that while the movie did not come to fruition, you were instrumental in its remaining true to the character you and your partner created, as well as overseeing all animation, set and character design._

_We have proudly displayed some of your canvases in our galleries, as well as seeing your works throughout the galleries at universities throughout the New York area. We are also aware of your shows at well known public galleries such as the Lehmann Maupin Gallery, the Susan Sheehan Gallery, the Gallery Sakiko, the Paul Kasmin Gallery, and the New Century Artists Gallery. _

_While it is not required for those exceptional nominees who will be receiving honorary degrees to be students of the university bestowing the degree, we would like to take this time to thank you for choosing Pratt for your art instruction while you were in New York. We would like to congratulate you again on receiving your Bachelor of Fine Arts and we would also like to thank you for the outstanding contributions you made while being part of the internship program through Pratt. We received several compliments and praises regarding the young Justin Taylor from not only Manheim & Smith Advertising Agency, but also from several students at Pratt and Washington High School for your dedication, understanding and compassion. _

_We cordially invite you and a guest to attend our graduation ceremony Saturday, May 22, 2010 to accept your Honorary Masters of Fine Arts from the Pratt Institute. Congratulations again on your achievements and we look forward to seeing you in May. We also look forward to seeing what the future holds for such an innovative and talented artist such as yourself. _

_Sincerely,  
>Peter Banner<em>

Brian now understands why Justin was so silent. Not only to receive an honorary degree, but from a prestigious institute such as Pratt, and at such a young age. He may not be 17 anymore, but considering most honorary degree holders are considerably more along in their careers than Justin is, it's amazing. Brian always knew that Justin was incredibly talented and would go far, and clearly being in New York was exactly what Justin needed. And did Justin ever mention finishing his bachelor's degree?

He's not sure how long Justin has been here, but Brian doesn't need long to accept what they want to give to Justin.

"I'd say this is unbelievable…but it's not."

"Huh?"

*chuckle* "You, Justin, are an amazing artist, with an incredible talent. The viewer doesn't just appreciate the colors or pictures, your art really pulls the viewer in and takes them on their own journey of self discovery with every body of work you create. I deal with a version of art every day, but it's art to make people want to buy things they probably don't need. It's my job to convince them they not only need it, but that it's the best choice to make. Your art is very different and I wouldn't know the difference between a Degas or Monet or Renoir or whoever unless they were labeled. Your art I can not only identify, but I can honestly say that it's better than all other art out there."

"You're just saying that because you're the subject of my best paintings."

"That's beside the point."

They both chuckle at this. Brian's glad to see he's smiling again.

"I'm serious though. Even if your art had nothing to do with me, although I can't say I'd be necessarily happy with that. It was very flattering to be in your first displayed work of art, and in several since then. I believe Lindsay said that you had an amazing feel for the human form, and even though I gave you a hard time about it *grin* she was right, figuratively and literally. And even though your style and techniques have changed, some because you chose to, others because you had to, that pain and hurt and anguish only led to further discovery, and helped you grow as an artist."

"You know, at the moment, I'm not sure what's more shocking. I mean when I got that letter I was confused. I knew what Pratt was, after all I had just finished earning my bachelor's degree, but when I finally opened it and they're granting me a Master's Degree…I love art, I love to draw, to paint, to help others with the art they love. I couldn't imagine not being able to draw. I mean there was one time when I thought I couldn't and we know how I handled that. I don't think I deserve a degree I didn't earn. However, to hear what you just said about my art, I think their letter is almost easier to believe, no that's the wrong word, it's easier to accept. Not for the reason you may think. They're artists and educators, if they say that I'm that good, then maybe I am… but I've never had you compliment my work so much, it's so utterly flattering and humbling and kind of embarrassing, I'm not sure how to respond."

"Well…I know it's not quite the same, but think about all the times you've helped at Kinnetik, and back at Vangard…what did you think about some of the campaigns I came up with? I might not be an artist, but many of those campaigns I knew exactly what it should look like and my ideas were only put into color and print by the artists there. Did you like the ads I came up with?"

"Your ideas are genius. With or without the artists your ads are the best in whatever category the ad is in. You're right about ads being a lot more than just the artists putting your ideas on paper. It's the font, the size, the color, how it flows together, what stands out… you have a vision that always comes across magnificently on paper. Your ads are the best in the industry…"

Brian's smirk is getting more pronounced as Justin is talking. Not that he minds the compliments, but he's waiting for Justin to realize that Justin is doing the same thing that Brian was just doing. Justin absolutely deserves this honor. The fact that he was able to go to New York, make it on his own…he should be saying this out loud.

"You realize you're telling me about the same things I was just telling you. Thank you for the compliments, while they're usually welcome, from people who don't know any better they don't mean much. But when they're from someone who knows what they're talking about, even more when those compliments are from someone you respect, admire, trust and love, they mean all the more… and I meant everything I said about your artwork. And I know an institute like Pratt wouldn't say anything like they did without meaning it. You moved to New York, on your own, found an agent, became a successful artist, had more than one solo show at some of the best galleries in the nation.

"You, and Mikey, created a comic book that was completely new and different to any comic book out there, I mean, shit, it was almost a major motion picture. The comic book itself is known all over the world, sure it's only among certain groups, but still, you've created something that is known by, wanted and treasured by millions of people. Not to mention all the people you've helped through all your internships. You helped other students realize what it means to be an artist, what it means to suffer for your art, you conquered New York, Sunshine, and you did it all on your own. You fucking deserve this degree, and so much more. It wouldn't surprise me at all if you were to hear from the Museum of Modern Art or the art communities Paris or Milan."

"Oh god, I hadn't even thought of that…what if they want me internationally, I don't travel here that often, I don't want to travel for my art. We just settled in here, we haven't even been here long enough to appreciate that we're really living together, married… in Britin…shit, that's happening isn't it. I don't want to travel to Europe. I mean I've always wanted to go to Europe, what artist hasn't? I've never even considered the possibility of having an art show or display or anything anywhere but here. I want to be here, paint here, shit, I haven't even used my studio yet. I'm fucking sitting in my studio, and I haven't even used it. Actually I really enjoyed teaching, tutoring, mentoring, whatever you want to call it. I mean I love painting, but I really loved helping others, showing others what you can accomplish through art."

"Justin…no one's forcing you to decide anything right now. No one's invited you anywhere, other than New York, again, in May… we'll definitely make that, not only for your bachelor's degree, which you never told me about, but also for your master's degree, and not even I have one of those. We'll go from there. You and Mikey still work on an issue of Rage now and then, so it's still out there. You haven't gotten any movie offers, no one wants your autobiography, and you haven't heard from any other galleries… that's what you have an agent for. Any offers you get, at all, will go through Candice and she'll filter out all the real deals from all the shit, then you make the choice. They don't make your choice for you, you do. You're here, with me, in West Virginia…in the home that we fixed together…husbands making a life together. And if you happen to get an offer for overseas…I've always wanted to see Paris and Milan, too."

"You'd just come to shop in all the designer shops, in the home of where the designers live."

"Obviously, I'll leave all the galleries and art schmoozing to you."

"You'd really be willing to go with me, if they wanted me for a show in Paris or Milan or Florence or somewhere else for weeks or even a month? You'd really travel with me?"

"Hmmm…as difficult as it might be to stay in Paris for a whole month…such a hard ship *smirk* I think I'll live. I lived with you in New York for a year, and Kinnetik's still the best advertising agency in Pittsburgh."

"You mean Pennsylvania…I hear the East Coast, too. When I was interning at Manheim & Smith, Kinnetik was a name, it was known. They didn't think it was competition, but they were interested and curious into how it was growing and progressing."

"Interesting…I like that… Manheim & Smith are huge… I still can't believe you got an internship there."

"Well they work with Pratt all the time and since I had been an artist for a while and in the public eye, already having a couple shows by the time they found me, my name was easy for them to pick. Course it kind of helped that one of the newer agents was a fan of Rage and recognized my name when over hearing a conversation with the partners. Actually, even a couple of the kids that I worked with at the high school knew about Rage. They were gay kids who read it religiously, they said it really helped them deal with their family and friends who couldn't accept them. It gave them a way to escape and feel like they should be accepted…huh, I guess your right… I have done a lot. I still feel kind of funny accepting an honorary degree."

"I bet if you were to add up everything you've done, all the people you've helped and all the places you've worked you would have more experience, knowledge and necessary information than all the requirements for earning a Master's degree by going to school. Certainly you've done more things with your art than they could teach you at school. And I bet that if you continued with education or mentoring kids through art, you'd be well on your way for them to bestow you with an honorary doctorate in art therapy."

"Oh god, I couldn't accept that. Although the idea of art therapy certainly has merit. It definitely helped me through many difficult times. Psychologically it's even been proven that certain artistic activities can be more beneficial and cathartic that talking or other activities doctors have come up with, did you know…"

"Justin…"

"Sorry, umm, okay, I get your point. That would be really weird, if they gave me an honorary doctorate."

"Hmmm… Dr. Taylor… I like the sound of that."

"That's Dr. Taylor-Kinney, if you please."

"Dr…Taylor…Kinney…rolls off the tongue nicely…I know of something else that rolls off and on the tongue…why doctor I'm not feeling too good all of a sudden, do you suppose you can look at something. It's long and hard and dripping and it hurts something terrible."

"Well, Mr. Kinney Taylor, let's just remove all your clothes and I'll see if massaging your long hard problem helps some of the pain go away."

Once again our two favorite lovers were naked faster than you could say ready, set, go and were well on their way to christening every surface in the studio, starting with the futon and Justin's throat helping with a very heated and wet massage of Brian's hot, hard, throbbing ache between his two strong lean beautiful legs.

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><p><strong>AN<strong>: There might be more to this... there might be a sequel...not sure. Any thoughts? I'd love to hear them. I'm secretly a review junkie, so the more the better. ;)


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