


Heart Strings

by Predec2



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Hurt-Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2013-10-03 17:50:53
Rating: T
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,220
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5662322/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2160016/Predec2
Summary: An unexpected meeting causes misunderstanding; can love prevail before it's too late?





	1. Chapter 1: An Unexpected Award

_**A/N: Please forgive me if the timeframe is a little out of whack here….I'm not sure what part of the year it was when Season 5 ended. Also, I do not remember if Daphne's cousin was named in the last episode, so please overlook it if her name isn't right here – LOL! **_

Justin hurried up the steps of the New York Fine Arts Association building. He was supposed to be there at 11:00 a.m., but thanks to the subway train running late, it was already 15 minutes past. He wasn't even sure why he was asked to come here, actually.

Justin had to smile a little, though, as he silently rehashed the conversation he had had earlier today with his gallery manager, Brad Henson. Brad had called him about 9:30 this morning, growling that he had to "get his ass" over to the NYFAA building by 11:00. When questioned why, he was just told "you'll find out. Don't question the expert. Just do it!" Justin knew that beneath the man's gruff exterior, he was a passionate supporter of Justin's work. Thanks to Brad's interest, in fact, Justin had been able to successfully market several of his works in New York City in just the six months he had been there. So far, his work had not sold for a great deal, but on average Brad was successfully selling the majority of his paintings for several hundred dollars each, enough for Justin to finally be able to support himself financially.

Thanks to his friend, Daphne, Justin had been able to move into a small apartment he shared with Daphne's cousin, Annie. The apartment was a tiny one, but it at least had two bedrooms and was clean. Thanks to the proceeds from _Rage_, Justin had managed to accrue a small nest egg that enabled him to pay his part of expenses until his paintings began to sell regularly.

As he entered the massive front door of the Fine Arts Building, he approached the circular desk in the lobby. A man in a dark navy security uniform looked up as he approached. "May I help you, sir?"

Referring to a note he had scribbled earlier while speaking to Brad, Justin replied, "Yes, my name is Justin Taylor. I have an appointment to meet with Gerard Murphy."

Peering down at a clipboard, the security guard confirmed his name was on the visitors' list. "Yes, Mr. Taylor, you need to take the elevators to the 11th floor. When you get off, turn to your right and Mr. Murphy's office is at the very end of the hallway." He pointed toward the elevators in a polite sign of dismissal.

Justin nervously pondered why in the world he was being asked to meet with Gerard Murphy as he waited in the elevator for the 11th floor. Although he had never met the man, he was very familiar with him and the Fine Arts Association. It was the premier organization in New York City that critiqued every facet of the artistic and performing arts world, including everything from painting to sculpture to acting to music. Their reviews were frequently written up in several well-known publications, including the _New York Times, Playbill _and _New Yorker_ magazine. Gerard Murphy was the president of the association; he was featured prominently in social columns and his photo appeared everywhere, it seemed. Mr. Murphy had been its president for over 20 years, and his impression of an artist could literally make or break the person's career.

Arriving at the correct floor, Justin turned to the right and approached the gilded, double doors with the NYFAA insignia on it. Taking a deep breath, he pushed them open. A female assistant looked up at him as he entered. Tacking on a professional smile, she asked, "Yes? May I help you?"

Trying to work up his courage, Justin cleared his throat; just being in the offices of Gerard Murphy's organization was quite intimidating. "Yes, my name is Justin Taylor. I have an appointment with Mr. Murphy for 11:00." Smiling apologetically, he explained, "I'm sorry I'm a little late. The subway was running behind."

"I understand," she replied evenly. "If you would please have a seat," she instructed him, picking up her phone to apparently call her boss. Justin had just begun to sit down when the assistant informed him that Mr. Murphy would see him immediately. He followed the woman as she led him through the convoluted maze of hallways until she reached a foreboding, oak door. Knocking briefly on it, she opened the door and ushered Justin inside.

A distinguished, silver-haired man sat behind a massive, mahogany desk. Standing up, he reached for Justin's hand as he gestured in dismissal to his assistant, who closed the door as she left.

"Mr. Taylor. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shaking the man's extended hand, Justin replied, "It's an honor to meet you, sir. Although I must admit, I'm not sure why I'm here. My gallery manager called me this morning and told me to come here."

Motioning for Justin to sit, the man acknowledged, "Yes, I phoned Mr. Henson and asked him to have you meet with me this morning. I like to meet with all of our recipients personally."

"Recipients?" Justin's brows furrowed at the man's statement. "I don't understand."

"Mr. Taylor, you have heard of the _Young Artists Awards_?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I have. The NYFAA gives out those awards each year. Any artist would die for one of them. No amount of publicity could take the place of getting selected……" Justin suddenly stopped talking in mid-sentence as he realized why the man was asking him. "You're not saying that I, uh, I mean, are you trying to say that…?" He found himself stammering while he heart suddenly started hammering rapidly in excitement.

Mr. Murphy smiled. "That's exactly what I'm saying, Mr. Taylor. Congratulations. The Fine Arts Association has just named you as the winner of the Young Artists Award in the painter's category. You should give yourself credit, young man. We had over 30,000 entries for just that category alone this year. To persevere under that kind of competition takes a very special type of talent."

Justin beamed at the compliment. He was so excited! Just being named the recipient of this award meant his work would be publicized in several trade publications and would undoubtedly increase the value of his paintings. He couldn't help thinking, _wait until Brian hears about this!_

The thought of Brian brought Justin suddenly back down to earth. It had been six months since he and Brian had parted ways, in hopes of Justin pursuing his dream of becoming a successful artist in New York City. Immediately after he left, he and Brian had spoken regularly on the phone and had managed to visit each other several times. However, lately their contact had tapered off. Kinnetik was doing very well; in fact, it was doing so well that it seemed like Brian was constantly having to travel out of town to meet with important clients. Justin, too, was working part-time in a nearby diner, and was being kept quite busy with his artwork; Brad was always urging the artist to complete another painting for him to sell. Despite their best of intentions to continue their relationship, maintaining their closeness from a distance was beginning to become difficult for both of them.

"Mr. Taylor?" Justin was brought out of his reverie as he realized he had been lost in thought. Turning back toward Mr. Murphy, he noticed the man waiting for his response. Sheepishly, he replied, "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"I was mentioning the awards banquet on the 17th. It's being held at the Mont Chateau Hotel. There will be a dinner, then a presentation to each of the award winners afterward." Handing Justin an envelope, he advised, "The invitation is for two. I presume you will be able to attend?" At Justin's affirmative nod, he continued, "This will be a great opportunity for you and your work to be showcased, Mr. Taylor. There will be a press conference with several media representatives tomorrow at 2:30 here in our meeting room downstairs to announce the winners. My assistant can show you where it is. There will also be photos taken immediately following the press conference to accompany an article in the art section of the New York Times later this week."

Justin's head was spinning. This was an opportunity that all the money in the world couldn't buy. Shaking Mr. Murphy's hand before he departed, he practically ran out of the building after checking with the man's assistant on where he needed to be tomorrow. He was so nervous about tomorrow's press conference, but also very excited.

* * *

As Justin had suspected, Brad knew before he did that the artist was indeed one of the winners of the prestigious NYFAA awards. The wide smile the manager had on his face as soon as Justin walked into the gallery was a quick indication of that. Oh, and also the big bottle of champagne he was holding up. The cork shot out of the bottle as he hoisted it up in a salute to the artist.

"Way to go, Justin! Do you know how BIG a deal this is?" Brad celebrated as he twirled Justin around. "Not to mention this will make the value of your paintings go WAY up. Along with my commission, of course," he laughed, winking.

"NOW we get to the REAL reason why you're so excited for me." Justin had to smile back at his manager, however; he was just as excited as the older man was. "I know – I can't believe it! This is SO awesome! And Mr. Murphy said there would be press people there tomorrow. And they're going to take our picture to go with an article in the art section of the _Times._ Can you believe it?" He repeated. It all didn't quite seem real yet.

"Justin, my boy, I'm proud of you! To be chosen out of so many others is HUGE. Congratulations!" He slapped Justin on his back and clasped his hand firmly.

"Thanks. Listen, I'm going to head back to my apartment. I can't wait to tell everybody at home!" He was grinning from ear to ear as he rushed out of the gallery.


	2. Chapter 2: Plans Interrupted

_Chicago, Same Day –O'Hare Airport_

Drumming his long fingers impatiently on his knee, Brian promised himself the next time Brown Athletics wanted to meet with him, he was damn sure going to insist they come to Kinnetik. One more day spent in the "Windy City" and he thought he would puke his guts out. He had to pick the one week out of winter where Chicago was experiencing blizzard conditions; in fact, he could not even get a cell phone signal. Of course, trying to catch a flight out was totally out of the question for the immediate future.

Damn it. He should have been on a flight by now to New York City to surprise Justin. He was painfully aware he and his lover had not been able to see much of each other lately, and he missed the artist terribly. He was determined to see him on the way back from his business trip. He wanted to make it clear to the blond that he loved him more than ever. In fact, unbeknownst to Justin, Brian had been making tentative plans to open up a satellite office of Kinnetik in the Big Apple. Soon, he hoped, he and Justin would be back together on a regular basis. _I can't wait to see you again, Sunshine._

Brian had put on a convincing mask to the casual observer immediately after Justin had left to pursue his dream of being a successful artist; for a few weeks, he continued his "fuck 'em and get drunk" regimen, appearing to revert back to his old ways. But his closest friends knew the truth. Brian was missing Justin terribly, and he was undergoing the standard Brian Kinney pain management treatment. After a few weeks, however, all the tricks looked the same and all the liquor did nothing to blunt his pain. No one could affect him the way Justin did. Brian knew then that the blond had changed his life irrevocably; he would never be able to go back permanently to his old ways. Brian's life would never be considered dull, but it was finally time for Brian Kinney to grow up. Glancing anxiously once again at the departure screen, he silently cursed the continuing blizzard and hoped it would soon subside just enough that he could finally get on the plane and toward his most anticipated goal – being reunited with his Sunshine.

* * *

Justin noticed the apartment was quiet when he returned. _Annie must still be at class._ Annie was an aspiring actress, taking acting classes around her full-time job as a waitress at a nearby Italian restaurant. While she and Justin were too different to ever really be best friends, she still had a great sense of humor and like her cousin, always told Justin the straight, albeit sometimes painful, truth. He appreciated her forthrightness and honesty. They both respected each other's career goals, and encouraged each other when they were down. He was eager, then, to share his exciting news with his roommate. But the first person he wanted to tell was Brian.

Picking up his cell to dial the familiar speed number, he waited anxiously for Brian to pick up. He frowned as he received a "service unavailable" message, instead. _That's odd. I've never gotten that type of message before._ Brian's phone at the loft, too, went immediately to voicemail. Disappointed, he finally opted to phone his mother next with the good news.

His mother, understandably, was extremely happy for her son. "Justin, I am SO proud of you," she said, beaming. "I can't wait to read the article and see your picture in the paper. Promise me you'll come to visit soon."

"I promise, Mom. By the way, I've been trying to reach Brian. Do you know why his cell phone isn't going through? It just says service is unavailable."

"I'm sorry, Honey. I haven't spoken to Brian for a couple of weeks now. He always asks about you, you know." She hesitated briefly before continuing. She knew how important Justin's career was to him, but she felt obligated to her son AND to Brian to add, "He still loves you, Justin. He doesn't come right out and say it, but I can tell. You're the first thing he mentions when I see him, and it's in his eyes. The spark isn't there. He just looks, well, lost without you. Kind of like a wounded bird or something. I think it's been really hard on him."

Justin swallowed and blinked his eyes to keep the sudden tears from falling. "It's been hard on me, too, Mom. Do you think it was easy leaving him? Every day I question whether I did the right thing or not. I mean, it's really exciting being in New York and my art is finally starting to get noticed. But I miss seeing him every day, waking up with him in the morning, and just talking to him about how his day went. I miss everything about him." _I miss his touch, his smell, and the eyes that always hold so much emotion in them. _Justin had felt a need to prove himself by coming to New York on his own; in that regard, he didn't regret it. But being away from Brian had done nothing to diminish his love for him.

"I know, Honey. I'm sure he feels the same way. I don't know what the answer is. But there must be some way you can both have what you want and still be together. Time is so precious. Things can change in a heartbeat. I know how much you and Brian love each other. You don't want to take that for granted." She sighed sympathetically. "I know you will be able to work something out."

"I hope so, Mom. Without Brian around, I just don't feel as inspired as I used to. If you see him or hear from him, tell him I need to talk to him, okay? In the meantime, I'll keep trying to reach him on his cell phone. If I don't talk to him by tomorrow morning, I'll try to reach him at Kinnetik."

As he hung up the phone, Justin realized how tired he suddenly was. Lying down on the couch with the thought of watching a little television before Annie got home, he was asleep minutes after his head touched the cushion.


	3. Chapter 3: A Startling Reunion

The static of a long-anticipated announcement roused Brian from a fitful slumber, his neck and back stiff from trying to sleep on three of the hard, plastic airport chairs. Pulling himself upright, hair tousled and clothes wrinkled, he groaned. He had just spent the whole fucking night at O'Hare, waiting for a flight. Thankfully, he had just heard his name being called over the PA system to come to the service desk. The runways had been cleared enough for trips to New York City to resume; he had finally been able to secure a seat on the 8:30 a.m. flight. _I can't wait to get a nice hot shower, preferably with a certain blond…._Sighing, Brian hefted his overnight bag onto his shoulder and boarded the plane that would take him to see the man he loved. _The things I go through for you, Sunshine._

Meanwhile, the subject of his thoughts was also waking up from a restless night, too excited to sleep well and concerned that he could not reach his lover. Justin was surprised to see that not only had he slept the entire night on the couch, but he somehow managed to miss hearing his roommate come in from her acting class. He noticed the door to her bedroom was now closed, and Annie's coat was hanging in its customary place on the back of a kitchen chair. _I guess my exciting news will have to wait, at least for my roommate…_

Anxious to reach Brian, he noticed it was after 9:30 a.m. He tried once again to reach the older man on his cell phone. This time, instead of a "service unavailable" message, Brian's cell went directly into his voicemail. Justin decided to leave a message to call him; he then tried Brian's private office number. He immediately recognized the female voice that answered the line.

"Cynthia? Hi, it's Justin."

"Justin! It's good to hear your voice," Cynthia answered warmly. She had always had a soft spot for Justin. She admired him for his intelligence and kindness, but most of all, for the talent he had for bringing out, dare she say it, _tender_ feelings in Brian that she never saw him display any other time or toward any other person, except maybe his son.

"It's good to talk to you, too, Cynthia." Justin was fond, as well, of the assistant who could so capably deflect Brian's prima donna antics and frequent tirades. "I was looking for Brian. I haven't been able to reach him on his cell phone. Is he there?"

Brian had told Cynthia she was not to divulge his plans to Justin under any circumstances. He was intent on surprising his lover with the trip to New York. "No, I'm sorry, Justin. He's on a business trip to Chicago. I finally got a chance to talk to him for a few minutes this morning. He had finished up his business, but he was delayed several hours at O'Hare last night due to the terrible weather conditions there. He was finally able to get a flight out this morning, so I assume he is on his way here now. Do you want me to give him a message for you?" She hated to lie to Justin, but if Brian's surprise goes the way he wants, it would be worth it.

She could hear the disappointment in Justin's voice as he answered her. "No," he sighed. "I already left him a message to call me. I'll just wait to hear back from him, I guess. Thanks anyway, Cynthia."

"Sure," she replied sympathetically. "Take care, Justin." She smiled, knowing that soon his frustration over not being able to talk to Brian would be replaced with much more pleasurable emotions.

* * *

"Fucking blizzard!" Brian growled as he finally stepped off the plane. Thanks in part to a 30-minute departure delay, he did not arrive at LaGuardia until close to 11:30 a.m. Despite his fervent desire to see Justin as soon as possible, his wish to get cleaned up and catch a little shut eye won out temporarily. Stinking, scruffy, and totally exhausted, he dragged himself to the nearest taxi and barked instructions to the driver to take him to the Ritz Carlton downtown.

* * *

"Justin! It's almost 1:30! You'd better get your ass in gear, blondie! You've primped enough! And they say women preen more than men. Apparently they haven't seen YOUR performances!" Annie rolled her green eyes as she watched her roommate smooth the wrinkles once again in his shirt and pants. Then she watched as he combed his hair through his fingers again, giving him a tousled, but attractive look. "Justin! Enough! You look great! Do you want to be late for your big photo op?" She posed in front of the mirror in an attempt to mimic him.

Shoving the long-haired redhead playfully, he laughed. "Okay, okay, I get it. I'm leaving. I'm just so fucking nervous! Just the thought of all that press and having my picture taken for the _New York Times_ has my stomach tied up in knots!" Tugging at his necktie, he asked, "Don't you think I'm a little too dressed up for the subway?"

"Well, if they try to mug you, just pull your pockets inside out and they'll know they're wasting their time," she teased. Pushing him toward the door, she added, "Don't forget to bring back some appetizers – I'm a starving artist, too, remember?" Winking at him, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he opened the door and walked rapidly toward the station that would take him uptown to the NYFAA building.

Justin rushed inside the Fine Arts Building, arriving with only fifteen minutes to spare. Thankfully, he had already determined where the press conference was being held, and after a cursory check-in with the same security guard, he was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet in the elevator, waiting anxiously for what he would encounter below. His only regret at the moment was that he still hadn't been able to reach Brian. He had left him another message on his cell phone, but he desperately yearned to hear his lover's voice and to share his exciting news with him. _Where are you, Brian?_

His thoughts were jolted back to the present as the elevator opened into a large lobby opposite three sets of double doors. A large, scrolling message board above the main set of doors congratulated all the winners of the Young Artists awards. Justin still couldn't believe he was included in that prestigious group. Closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath to calm himself, he proceeded toward the main set of doors in the center of the lobby.

The double doors opened into a large conference room, where several round banquet tables had been arranged. The room was awash with people: uniformed employees of the NYFAA, men and women of approximately the same age as Justin (other award winners, he presumed), cameramen as evidenced by the expensive equipment they carried, and, he was guessing, print and television journalists.

As Justin entered the room, he was greeted by two employees of Mr. Murphy, verifying his identity and presenting him with a gold-colored badge with his name and the words _NYFAA_ _Young Artist Winner, Painting Category_ displayed underneath. As he pinned the name badge on his suit jacket, Mr. Murphy himself ambled toward him. "Mr. Taylor. Congratulations again," he said, shaking his hand. "If you will please come with me toward the front, I will be introducing all the winners to the media shortly and giving them the opportunity to ask questions. Then, don't forget, we need for you to stick around so your photo can be taken."

Justin smiled nervously as he walked toward the front of the room. He felt everyone's eyes on him as he followed closely behind the President of the Fine Arts Association. His hands felt clammy and his heart beat rapidly. As they approached the front of the room, Mr. Murphy turned toward him. "If you will excuse me for a few minutes, I have to make sure everything is ready. Please make yourself comfortable. There are place cards indicating where you should sit. Please help yourself to any refreshments until we are able to start." With a polite nod of his head, the man hurried off toward the speaker's dais and bank of microphones quickly accumulating nearby.

Justin stood uncomfortably, wondering what to do next. Feeling like a fish out of water, he turned toward the side wall where an informal buffet had been set up next to an impromptu bar. Just as he was about to pick up a plate, he heard a nearby voice that was somehow familiar, calling to him uncertainly.

"Jus? Is that really you?" _No, it couldn't be_, he thought. Turning slowly around, however, his suspicions were confirmed as a curly-haired man with chocolate-brown, piercing eyes bored into him.


	4. Chapter 4: Unresolved Issues

"Shit! It IS you." The man smiled at Justin in disbelief.

"Hello, Ethan," Justin replied tentatively. He was stunned to see his former lover standing in front of him. For a few seconds, he hoped it was just an illusion. But unfortunately, it was all too real. The man in front of him was a little leaner and had lost the small tuft of chin hair Justin always thought was rather comical. But the brown, curly hair was still as disheveled as ever and the piercing dark brown eyes were the same.

Noticing the other man's badge, he commented, "I see you're the winner in the classical music category. I guess I can't say that surprises me all that much, but I AM surprised to see you here. The last I heard, you were traveling across the northeast staking your claim to fame."

"Well, that was 2 ½ years ago," Ethan pointed out, as he grabbed a couple of empty plates and handed one to Justin. "A lot has changed since then." Some things HADN'T changed, however, Ethan thought, studying his former lover carefully. Justin was as beautiful as ever, with the same sapphire blue eyes and soft, blonde hair, although it was somewhat longer than the last time the violinist had seen it.

"I'm not under contract any longer with Artist's Management Associates. I was recently offered a chair with the New York Philharmonic," he announced proudly with just a hint of bravado. "They've even got me temporarily housed at the Ritz Carlton until I can find a suitable apartment."

"That's pretty impressive. I know that's what you always wanted." He couldn't help the edge of sarcasm that crept into his voice. _Yeah, that's always what was most important to you, wasn't it, Ethan? Otherwise, you never would have fucked that one-night trick._

Ethan continued to gaze intently at Justin. _No, Jus, you don't know what I wanted the most. What I wanted the most was you. _Aloud, he replied, "Yeah, it's a very prestigious position. I'm the youngest musician that has ever been appointed to a first chair with the orchestra."

Justin nibbled on a couple of shrimp and reached for a glass of wine at the bar. He felt very awkward encountering Ethan again after all this time, and the silence began to stretch interminably. "Well, Ethan, I'd better go find my seat. It's almost time for the press conference. Good luck with your new position."

"Justin, wait," Ethan pleaded. He tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice, but he was only partially successful. "I'd like to talk to you. To explain." He reached out to softly grab Justin's sleeve.

Justin sighed and rolled his eyes briefly. "There's nothing to explain. I think what happened was pretty self-obvious, don't you?" Truth be told he was not actually angry anymore; over time his anger had slowly dissipated into something more like disappointment. In fact, he could now even remember fondly some of the romantic endeavors Ethan had undertaken in their relatively short relationship, such as the picnics on the floor, the candlelight, and the musical serenades. He began to walk away, but Ethan was determined to follow him.

"No, please, Justin. There's a lot I didn't get to say to you before. Please hear me out." He rushed to continue just as he heard Mr. Murphy began to ask for everyone's attention, urging everyone to take their seats so the conference could begin. "I need to talk to you. To clear things up. Please. Meet me afterward. If not for your benefit, at least for mine. To try and make amends somehow."

The artist hesitated. Did he really want to rehash this again? He wasn't so sure. He knew it would not change his feelings for Brian, but if he was 100% honest with himself, he felt he and Ethan had not resolved everything. Despite not really wishing to go down that road again, he nonetheless felt he and Ethan had not ever fully discussed what had happened. He felt he was owed a better explanation for what had happened than what he had gotten. And the man standing before him looked almost contrite and apologetic, if not desperate.

Briefly closing his eyes, he finally acquiesced. "Okay, Ethan, I'll meet with you. No strings, no obligations. Just a discussion, you understand?" As Ethan nodded his head, Justin clarified, "But not today – I've already promised my gallery manager I would bring over some paintings I finished for him later this afternoon."

Relief registered on the brunet's face. "Thanks, Jus. I understand. Why don't we meet in the bar at the Ritz Carlton tomorrow afternoon for drinks? Do you know where it's at? It's not too far from here."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, I know where it's at." _I know it TOO well. _Vivid memories of him and Brian becoming VERY familiar with that hotel invaded his mind_. Ethan would be staying THERE. "_Okay. I'll meet you tomorrow – 4:00 o'clock?" Receiving a confirmation nod from Ethan, he walked away toward the tables in search of his name card.

******************

Ethan couldn't help glancing over frequently at his ex-lover as the press conference got underway. The unexpected sight of him had made his heart flip flop, just the same as it did the first time he saw him at the recital. Ethan knew he had totally fucked up the day that fan came onto him in Harrisburg. He could not understand what had possessed him to throw everything away for one night of sex with a total stranger. Not a day had gone by that Ethan had not regretted what he had done, but shortly after he had gone on tour he had heard the rumors that Justin and Brian had been reunited. He knew once that happened, there was no chance he and Justin would ever be together again. At least, until he ran into the blond tonight, apparently alone with no boyfriend in sight. He decided he was going to make a determined effort to find out just where Brian stood in Justin's life. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself a small glimmer of hope that perhaps he could right the terrible wrong he had made and once again be reunited with his inspiration. He just had to convince Justin of that.

Justin's thoughts, also, were in turmoil. Seeing Ethan again after all this time stirred up the feelings of betrayal he had felt that night. And, yes, while the anger had diminished, the sadness had not. Sadness that someone who had seemingly cared about him so much had succumbed to a one-night temptation at the first chance he had.

But if Justin was totally honest with himself, as much as he loved Brian and could never love or even trust Ethan, he craved the types of romantic overtures Ethan had given him. When the two of them had first made love, he could remember Ethan cradling his head and caressing him almost reverently. He had felt cherished and treasured. Justin had almost convinced himself that he could love Ethan, until the violinist had thrown it all away for one night of gratification. He could still feel the hot tears on his face as he realized that Ethan had done the exact same thing he had done to Brian; he had lied to him.

_Brian. _He knew how difficult it was for the older man to express his feelings; that was why Justin had had such a hard time initially believing that Brian was sincere about his love for him when he finally said the "three words" out loud. He firmly believed Brian DID love him now, but, damn it, the romantic, sentimental part of him still craved displays of that affection. Is just knowing Brian loves him enough? Sighing heavily, he tried to turn his attention back to the awards conference taking place.

The rest of the conference passed rather quickly, and the photo session was an organized affair. The photographer hired for the function spent approximately 10 minutes with each winner, adjusting the background color and angle to capture each subject's best features. Justin managed a smile for his photo, although it would never be mistaken for one of his radiant, trademark ones that had earned him his nickname from Debbie.

He noticed Ethan having his photo taken a few minutes before him. As Justin walked toward the exit, he noticed the other man waiting for him by the elevator. Nodding in acknowledgement, Justin waited stiffly beside his ex-lover for the door to open. Both men were silent as the elevator took them to the main floor to leave. Ethan again glanced at his former lover surreptitiously, observing Justin's rigid, uncomfortable gait. "I won't bite you, Justin," he teased softly, earning at least a slight smile from the blond.

Justin continued to wonder whether he was doing the right thing agreeing to meet with Ethan, even for a short while. _What good is this going to do after all this time? _But he felt as if things had been left unresolved, and that he deserved at least a better explanation for what had happened in Harrisburg. He cleared his throat, which he noticed had started to become sore just before the press conference. He pressed his hand to his throat in an attempt to somehow try to quell the pain which was getting more severe as the hours wore on.

Ethan, noticing the pained expression on his ex-lover, asked, "Is something wrong? You don't look like you feel well all of a sudden."

"I'm okay. Just a sore throat, that's all." Justin exhaled a soft breath of relief as the elevator door opened onto the main lobby. Once outside the NYFAA building, he turned toward Ethan. He had agreed to meet with him, and intended to follow through on his promise. "I'll see you tomorrow at 4:00, Ethan," he verified.

Ethan once again peered at Justin, intent on capturing the blond's image in his mind. "Thanks again, Jus. I'll see you tomorrow." He finally turned away from the artist, walking the opposite way toward the hotel, thoughts of their meeting tomorrow utmost in his mind.

Justin sighed, frustrated. _I hope I'm doing the right thing._ Glancing at a nearby clock, he hurried toward the subway station to try and catch the 4:30 train before it left. He wanted to hurry back to his apartment and over to Brad's gallery with his paintings, so he could go back home and nurse the sore throat that had begun to plague him earlier in the afternoon and was now getting worse by the hour.

* * *

Brian's hazel eyes fluttered open as he wondered briefly where he was. As the sleepy cobwebs cleared from his brain, he realized he was in New York at his hotel room. _5:00 o'clock? _He couldn't believe he had slept the afternoon away, but considering how little sleep he had gotten at O'Hare last night, he shouldn't have been surprised. Rubbing his hands over his face, he dragged his long frame out of bed and stumbled toward the shower. After he finished, he vowed to get a hold of Justin this time. The blond had left a message earlier for him to call back, but when he tried to, Justin's cell went right into voicemail. _What good does it do to have a fucking cell phone if you never answer it, Justin?_ He signed in frustration. This "surprise" so far wasn't going the way he had envisioned it, he thought ruefully. _Well, you and I will just have to make up for lost time, won't we, Sunshine? I hope you don't have plans any time soon, because once I get my hands on you, you won't be getting out of bed for a week!_ His cock twitched simply in anticipation of seeing his lover again. _Down, boy,_ he admonished himself. Resigning himself to a little jerking off in the shower, he picked up a nearby towel and headed toward the bathroom.


	5. Chapter 5: Sweet Dreams

Justin dragged himself back to his apartment after dropping off the paintings for Brad, arriving a little after 7:30 p.m. The negligible sore throat that had been a minor nuisance before was quickly becoming relentless now.

"Justin? You look like shit! What's wrong?" Annie noticed her roommate's face was even more alabaster in color than normal, and a thin sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead.

"It's just a bad sore throat," he explained. Annie wasn't convinced. Getting up from the couch, she walked over to Justin, placing a hand on his head. "You're hot, Justin," she confirmed.

"Why, thanks, Annie, I didn't think you'd noticed," he teased before suddenly scrunching up his face and wincing in pain. "Ouch. I just felt like a knife was stuck in my throat."

Pulling Justin over to the kitchen cabinet, she pulled out some Advil and filled up a glass of water. "Here, blondie, take a couple of these and go lie down. You definitely feel like you have a fever."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I wanted to speak with Brian tonight to tell him the exciting news about my award. But I don't think I'd be too enthusiastic about it right now. I feel terrible."

Taking the glass from him, she nudged him gently toward his bedroom. "Oh, yeah, that' right! I want to hear all about your brush with fame this afternoon. But AFTER you go lie down. You look like you're about to FALL down. Go on – leave your cell on the table. If Brian calls, you want me to tell him you'll call him back later?"

Justin hesitated briefly. He desperately wanted to talk to his lover and hear his soothing voice. But the thought of physically trying to talk to him right now was just too difficult. The knife continued to twist inside his throat. _Maybe after some rest and the medicine takes effect_… "Thanks, Annie. I think I WILL go lie down for a while," he decided. Smiling tiredly, he slowly dragged himself into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, clothes and all.

******************

Brian finished up his meal brought up by room service. Placing the tray outside his door, he once again picked up his cell to call Justin. This time, the phone rang three times before a female voice unexpectedly picked up.

"Hello?"

"Is Justin there?" _What the fuck?_

"From that sexy drawl in your voice, you must be the legendary Brian Kinney," the woman replied, teasingly.

"And from that Brooklyn accent in YOUR voice, you must be Justin's roommate and Daphne's cousin."

"That would be me. Annie. And to answer your question, yes, your significant other IS here, but he's lying down."

"Alone?" _What in the fuck made me ask THAT? _

The young woman huffed. "YES, ALONE. Sheesh! A little insecure, aren't we? If it makes you feel any better, he wanted to talk to you, but he's not feeling well. Sore throat. He said to tell you he'd call you back. He's got a big surprise for you," she sing-songed.

"Really? What? Are we going to paint the town red?"

"Something like that," she replied mysteriously. "I'll let blondie tell you himself. It's been a pleas-ure," she gushed in a perfect Valley Girl imitation.

"Yeah, likewise," he retorted before snapping the phone shut. "Women!" _Now I know where Daphne gets her balls…so to speak, _he smirked.

* * *

Ethan arrived back at his hotel room after grabbing a quick bite to eat at the deli on the corner. The small café reminded him of a similar eating spot he and Justin had often visited near PIFA. After dropping his key card on the nightstand, he reflected upon the good times the two of them had shared in the relatively short time they were together, before all the walls came crashing down.

_I told you things I had never told anyone else, Jus. Even the other man I was with before I met you._ Ethan had actually thought he had been in love with Derrick, his former lover. But he knew how mistaken he was once he had laid eyes on Justin. He knew once they had made love together, and he gazed into those intense, sapphire blue eyes that held so much expression in them. Justin always wore his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see. That is what made it so difficult to see those eyes filled with pain that night. Pain that Ethan had caused by his one night fling with a man whose name he even didn't remember, and didn't care to. One momentary instant of self-gratification and he had thrown away something wonderful. He had, in essence, thrown Justin and Brian back together.

Now, however, fate may have dealt him a kinder hand. He was intent on proving to his former lover that he still loved him, and deserved a second chance. Licking his lips in concentration, he lay on the bed, thoughts churning in his head. He finally fell asleep, dreaming of what could have been and what yet might hopefully be.

* * *

Justin slowly opened his eyes in the near darkness. Glancing over to the side of the bed at his clock, he noticed it was now 10:00 p.m. The Advil had, thankfully, helped to stifle the severe sore throat somewhat, at least enough that he had been able to get a few hours of much-needed rest. Feeling his head, too, he was relieved to notice that he did not appear to have much of a fever presently. Observing the thin line of light seeping through his closed door, he plodded over to open it up.

Annie was lying on the couch, watching some typical, inane comedy. "Hey," she acknowledged him in greeting. "How do you feel?"

"A little better for now," he assured her. "At least the Advil made the fever pretty much go away, and the knife is just jammed in an inch or so, instead of clear through," he kidded.

"Glad to hear it. By the way, Mr. Sexy called right after you lay down. I told him you would call him back."

Justin's heart couldn't help itself. It always beat faster whenever Brian's name was simply mentioned. The man always had that effect on him. He tried to sound nonchalant as he answered, "Thanks. I'll give him a call." Picking up his cell phone, he attempted to look detached as he walked back into the bedroom to gain some privacy.

He nervously waited for the phone to ring twice before the smooth, baritone drawl he knew and loved so well answered. "Hey – finally."

"Hey. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful as always. What about you? Your delightful roommate told me you weren't feeling too _Sunshiny_ right now, Sunshine." He couldn't help the affection that crept into his voice. Finally hearing Justin's voice made his heart melt and his voice instantly soften.

Justin flushed. The soft caress of his lover's voice made any physical pain subside. "I'm okay. Just a bad sore throat, that's all. Just hearing your voice makes it all better, Mommy," he kidded softly.

Brian couldn't help the smile from creeping into his voice. "Well, _SON,_ I could think of some other more pleasurable activities that would make you forget all about your physical ailments."

Justin's body thrummed at the thought of just what kinds of delicious medicine Brian would prescribe for him. _And it wasn't the kind that his disco pharmacologist, Anita, would dispense…_

"I have no doubt you could, Mr. Kinney. I definitely could use your best bedside manner right about now," he purred.

Brian's cock twitched at the thought of giving his Sunshine some much-needed TLC. And being so close by made it even more difficult not to spoil the surprise he had in store for his lover. But he wanted to wait until tomorrow night to spring the idea of opening up another office of Kinnetik in New York City. He hoped to actually have a signed lease in his hand by the afternoon, and surprise the younger man tomorrow night at dinner.

At the mention of surprises, he recalled Annie's cryptic hint earlier of a surprise Justin had for him. Clearing his throat to drag his attention back to the present, he said, "Your roommate, by the way, said you had a surprise for me. A BIG surprise, as she put it. What was she talking about?"

"Oh! How could I forget the big news? I'm sure you've heard of the NYFAA Young Artist's Awards, haven't you?"

Brian racked his brain for a moment. "Yeah, the one that Gerard Murphy heads? I've been trying to snare that SOB's advertising forever."

Brian detected the pride in his lover's voice as he replied, "Well, you may have an inside track now. Guess who was just named the winner of the Young Artist's Award in the painting category?"

"Uh, let's see….I think Josh Hartnett paints. Also John Mellencamp. But I'm not a big fan of his music. And he's getting kind of up in years now, isn't he? Kind of long in the tooth…"

"Bri-an….!"

"Relax, Sunshine! Could it be our very own Andy Warhol-to-be perhaps?"

"Bing, bing, bing!!! Give the man a cigar!" Brian didn't have to see Justin to know that the blond was undoubtedly wearing one of his trademark smiles right now. "That's great, Sunshine. I'm fucking proud of you. But it doesn't surprise me at all."

Justin beamed and his heart swelled at Brian's praise, despite his throat pain, which was slowly increasing in intensity as the medication began to wear off. "Well, it surprised ME. Mr. Murphy said there were over 30,000 other painters considered for this award. I just found out last night, and guess what? Today I had to go back over to the Fine Arts Building to meet with a bunch of press people and have my photo taken. You should have seen it, Brian! All these people interviewing me. And there's going to be a big write up about the awards in the _New York Times_ art section! Can you fucking believe it? Oh, and the awards banquet is on the 17th. Of course, Mr. Murphy will be there, and I have two tickets to it. Can you come?"

"You know I can ALWAYS come, Sunshine," he said, smirking. "Oh, and I can probably clear a spot off my VERY busy schedule to spend the evening with my very own little Picasso. And also do a little pitching to Murphy and the NYFAA for a new advertising strategy."

"Just look at you…..My little genius shining in the spotlight once again." Brian was so proud of Justin. His baby never ceased to amaze him. And it appears Lindsey was correct in her assessment of his talent. He was going to be very successful, and Brian was looking forward to being a part of it in New York. _I can't wait to see his reaction when he hears the news…._

"Well, Sunshine, I'd better say goodnight. I just got back into town and need to go over some proofs before my meeting with the art department tomorrow morning. Brown Athletics wants to market a whole new line and they said they needed the campaign ASAP. I'll catch up with you tomorrow night, okay? And congratulations again on the award."

Justin smiled. "Thanks. Later."

"Later….and stay away from the Tylenol."

"Yes, DOCTOR." Flipping the phone closed, Justin sighed. He was so glad to hear Brian's voice at last, but he longed to see him, touch him, smell him. To feel his arms surround him and to make love with him again. At least the 17th was only two weeks away. Despite the pain he was presently feeling, the thought of seeing Brian soon helped to ease the discomfort and enable him to finally drift off to at least a somewhat restful sleep.

Brian lay back down on his own bed, thinking similar thoughts about his lover. He smiled as he imagined Justin's surprise tomorrow when he shows up unexpectedly. _Soon we can be together all the time, Sunshine._ He smiled as he closed his eyes and drifted off to thoughts of the younger man's arms snuggled around him and his own hands ruffling the soft, blond hair he loved so well.


	6. Chapter 6: Pain

Justin groaned in pain as he woke up from his fitful night's sleep. He had been able to drift off fairly soon after speaking with Brian, but once the medicine had worn off, it had awakened him with a vengeance and he had been forced to take three more Advil tablets in hopes of easing his sore throat. The medicine this time had only been marginally effective, and he had found himself waking up practically every hour from the pain.

Finally, at 6:00 a.m., he decided he was going to have to visit the nearby urgent care center in hopes of getting something stronger to help him. It knew it was going to be difficult enough to meet with Ethan later without feeling like shit, but he did not want to put it off any longer. He wanted to deal with the lingering questions and disappointment, and then move on. Move on with Brian.

Pushing himself to take a quick shower and pull on a pair of chinos and long-sleeved tee shirt, he left a short note for Annie before walking the two blocks to the clinic.

*******************

"Well, Justin, looks like you probably have a strep infection. Your throat's pretty irritated and red." The man who introduced himself to the artist as Dr. Kenworthy picked up a pad. "I'm going to write you a prescription for Zithromax," he advised the blond. "You're not allergic to that?" After getting a confirmation he wasn't, he handed the note to Justin. "That should take care of it. Take one each day until they're gone, okay? If you take one right away, you should see some improvement within several hours. I'll also send your culture to the lab to make sure it IS strep and to rule out mononucleosis."

Justin grimaced as he hurriedly downed the first pill as soon as he obtained it from the 24-hour pharmacy, along with three additional Advil. Sighing, he walked back toward his apartment, hoping to lie down for a few more hours until the medicine started to take effect.

*****************

Brian was up relatively early, rising at 9:00 so he could meet with his real estate broker at 11:00. He was eager to sign a lease agreement for the property he found in Soho he wanted to use for the new satellite office of Kinnetik. Not only did it have tons of room on the first floor that could be easily converted into office space, there was a second floor above that was perfect for a couple to begin their new life together, along with a large, open space on the third floor just waiting for an artist's touch. He smiled as he imagined Justin's reaction to the news. He couldn't wait to surprise his lover later today and show him the new space to get his input. He was determined to make sure Justin was equally involved in the changes that would need to be made to their new apartment and the new studio space.

Grabbing a cup of coffee from the nearby table, he stepped outside the door to retrieve his morning edition of the _New York Times_, finding it important to scope out the competition by reading several publications each week to help keep himself on top of his game. Sitting down on the couch, he separated each section of the paper, preparing to pick up the business section first. A large headline in the art section, however, surrounded by several color photos caught his eye.

He smiled affectionately as he immediately recognized Justin's photo below the headline, which read _NYFAA Award Winners Announced. _The photographer had done a fabulous job with Justin's photo. The picture highlighted Justin's mesmerizing blue eyes and honey-colored hair perfectly. Below his photo, also, was a biographic paragraph describing Justin's life and his work. Brian was filled with pride at the thought of his partner receiving such an outstanding accolade at a relatively young age. _Way to go, Sunshine._

Brian started to place the art section on the coffee table, planning on keeping the article for Justin to see, when another accompanying photo caught his eye. He frowned as he stared at the photo peering back at him in the next row. The man was clean-shaven and a little thinner, but the face was unmistakable. Disbelief crept into his thoughts before it was replaced with hatred. _Ethan Gold? That fucker! What the hell?_ He read the description below the name, indicating Gold had been selected as the Young Artist Award winner in classical music. Brian was incredulous. Was there no escaping the fucking SOB? And did Justin know he was one of the other winners? Surely he would have run into him yesterday afternoon at the press conference. He tried hard not to allow suspicion and jealousy to invade his mind as he visualized his lover and that MAN together again yesterday. Justin had promised him "no more violin music." So why would he have kept this from him? He subconsciously curled his hands into fists as he felt his blood pressure rise and the heat flushing his face. Crushing the art section into a ball, he violently threw the crumpled mess into the nearest garbage can.

* * *

Ethan stepped out of the shower, clad only in a towel. He walked toward the closet, trying to decide what to wear this afternoon when he met Justin. He smiled. Who would have thought he would have had the chance to start over with his ex-lover? He wanted to make a good impression on him, beginning with his attire. Something casual but elegant, he decided. Picking out a pair of dark gray linen pants and a sage green cashmere sweater, he nodded approvingly in front of the mirror. He meticulously dressed before picking up the phone to order some room service for lunch and stepping just outside the door to pick up his edition of the _New York Times._

As he walked back toward the leather recliner, he eagerly leafed through the paper to locate the art section. He smiled broadly as he saw the full-page article and photos displayed on the section's first page. His heart skipped a beat and his pulse sped up as he spied Justin's picture. Justin had always had that effect on him from the first moment the violinist had spotted him across the room in that recital. That hadn't changed. If anything, his longing for him had only gotten stronger. Now he had a chance to make amends and, hopefully, create a fresh start for both of them. It had to be more than just chance that had brought the two of them together again in the same city. It was fate. And Ethan intended to take full advantage of it. Picking up the phone, he started to call the concierge to order a red rose bouquet to be delivered to his room just before his meeting with Justin. He quickly squelched that idea as he replayed the disastrous encounter he had had with his ex-lover and that fan whose name he couldn't even remember, before opting instead for a box of assorted Godiva chocolates. Satisfied that everything was finally coming together, he sat down nervously to wait for his lunch and his much-anticipated reunion with his blond muse.

* * *

"Justin?" Annie gently shook her roommate. "How are you feeling?" she asked him as he slowly opened his eyes and squinted. She placed her hand gingerly on his forehead as Justin's hand pushed on his throat in an attempt to diminish the ever-present soreness there.

His response came out in a hoarse whisper. "A little better, maybe. But it still hurts. At least I don't think I have a fever right now." He slowly raised himself up in the bed as Annie removed her hand to help him. "What time is it?"

"A little after 2:00. Maybe you should rethink your idea to meet with that guy this afternoon," she cautioned him.

"No," Justin decided firmly. "I need to clear everything up with him, and have it out once and for all. I don't want him getting the wrong impression. I saw the looks he kept giving me yesterday when he didn't think I was noticing. Kind of like a 'puppy-dog who lost his bone' look," he said, scrunching up his face. "I need to nip it in the bud right now before it gets out of hand."

Annie smiled and cocked an imaginary gun in her hand. "Okay, Barney Fife. Go get your man, then. So to speak," she added at Justin's raised eyebrows. "But you need to come right back and get some more rest. Give the medicine time to work."

Justin saluted her. "Yes, nurse," he answered mockingly. With Annie's assistance, he slowly pushed himself off the bed and ambled toward the shower.

* * *

Brian continued to stew all afternoon after seeing the disturbing photo in the paper. His idea of surprising Justin that evening with the good news that he was planning on moving to New York to open up a satellite office of Kinnetik, and more importantly, reuniting with him, had now been shot to hell. He had called the real estate broker to put his plans on hold. He had thought at first he would just cancel the whole damn lease altogether, but a small part of him had refused to give up the hope that perhaps he had read too much into Justin and that fucking fiddler being together yesterday. So he had told the agent he would get back to him later in the week. That would give him enough time to confront Justin personally and find out just what the hell was going on. He knew if he looked Justin in the eyes that his lover wouldn't be able to lie to him. And truth be told, he really wanted to believe that nothing was going on. Either way, he knew he had to find out. Letting out a deep breath he didn't even realize he had been holding, he decided to walk downstairs to the bar to drink a few Jim Beams and steady his nerves before surprising Justin with a visit to his apartment.

* * *

Justin arrived in the lobby of the Ritz Carlton at a few minutes before 4. He attributed the achiness, slight dizziness and disorientation he was feeling to the butterflies in his stomach and the constant pain in his throat. He momentarily reconsidered his decision to meet with Ethan, but decided to push ahead with his original plan. He really wanted to hear Ethan's side of the story, and also tell the man how much his actions had hurt him. Only then could he close that chapter of his life and move on with Brian, the only man he ever envisioned a life with.

Spotting Ethan sitting at a fairly secluded table away from the bar, Justin steeled himself before walking into the dimly-lit room. Ethan looked up as he felt a presence close by, and smiled brightly as he realized who it was.

"Justin," he greeted the man warmly, standing up to grasp the pale hand firmly. After an extended time, he reluctantly allowed Justin to pull his hand back as he released it.

"Ethan," Justin acknowledged the other man, trying to keep his voice calm. His reply came out somewhat hoarse. Motioning for the brunet to sit back down, he pulled out a chair opposite the violinist and joined him. As the waitress nearby took his order for a beer, an awkward silence fell as he noticed Ethan staring at him intently.

Ethan cleared his throat nervously, deciding to start with some initial polite conversation. He asked the artist, "Jus, did you see the write up today in the _New York Times_ art section about the Young Artist Awards? All our pictures were in it, too. Pretty awesome."

"No, actually I haven't had a chance yet. I meant to, but I've not been feeling too well today," he admitted.

"You still have that sore throat?" Ethan looked at him concerned, making note for the first time of Justin's uncharacteristic raspy voice.

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. I went to a clinic nearby this morning and the doctor gave me an antibiotic for it. I guess it just hasn't quite kicked in yet." Waving his hand casually to dismiss Ethan's concern, he didn't notice the waitress about to serve him his beer. Justin's left hand suddenly came into contact with the waitress' outstretched one, as the cold beverage and glass went flying everywhere. Justin stood up, startled, as the ice and beer drenched the front of his tee shirt.

As the waitress apologized profusely and hurried off to find a towel, Ethan rose and approached the blond carrying his napkin.

"Shit!" Justin exclaimed. "That's cold!" Noticing Ethan about to try and help dry him off, Justin tried to discourage him. "That's okay, Ethan, don't bother. The waitress said she'll get me a towel."

Ethan, however, was more than happy to help Justin dry off, especially if it meant he could touch him. After all, he had jerked off to many a night dreaming of doing just that, although in a much more intimate way. Not being dissuaded from his intent, he steadied himself next to Justin by grasping one of the artist's shoulders with his free hand while he rubbed wide circles on his ex-lover's shirt with his other hand in an apparent attempt to sop up some of the beer.

Despite his dreams, Ethan was not prepared for just how intoxicating it felt being so close to Justin again. And the smell was uniquely Justin: somehow clean, yet exotic at the same time. As if he were a moth being tempted toward the flame, Ethan drew closer to Justin with the intention of tasting those full, pouty lips.

With his back to the lobby, Ethan did not notice the tall, hazel-eyed man that entered the main bar area. As Brian was about to order his first round of scotch at the bar, his eyes were drawn to a blond-haired man standing partially obscured by a second, curly-haired man who appeared about to kiss him.

Justin was about to push himself firmly away from his ex-lover when his eyes looked up and he felt his whole body tremble in shock as he recognized Brian, who was now staring at him with fury in his eyes. Shoving his arms forcefully at a flustered Ethan to push him away, he ran toward Brian, who had turned around and quickly stomped out of the bar.

"Brian!" Justin screamed as he ran out of the bar, closely on the heels of his partner. He didn't care if the whole hotel heard him at that moment. The only man he wanted attention from, however, was pretending that he somehow didn't hear his hoarse cries.

"Brian!" Justin again screamed out the other man's name, in anguish now from desperation and actual pain. Justin was just a little too fast for the older man to escape from him, as the artist finally reached out and grabbed Brian's arm to turn him around to face him just before he reached the elevators.

"Brian! It's not what you think! Let me explain!" Justin swayed slightly as he urgently tried to make Brian understand.

"I don't want to hear another one of your fucking lies, Justin! I know what I saw!" He roughly wrenched his arm away from the younger man as the bell announced the elevator's arrival. As soon as the door opened, Brian rushed into the car, not even bothering to turn around to look at his partner. Brian's entire body was shaking from hurt, fury and betrayal.

"Brian! Wait! Please!" The door was about to close as Justin rushed to join Brian in the car. But a wave of nausea and dizziness caused him to hesitate just long enough for the elevator doors to close, losing his opportunity to explain. Justin thought he heard someone calling out his name as he collapsed where he stood, drowning into a sea of blackness.


	7. Chapter 7: Shock and Urgency

Ethan stood restlessly by the hospital waiting room window, wondering what was transpiring inside the emergency room department. It had been over two hours since the life squad had brought Justin in on a stretcher, lifeless and pale. During the ride in the back of the ambulance, Justin had never responded to Ethan's touch as he had held the blond's limp hand in his. The only sign that Justin was alive was the sweating and constant shivering his body was undergoing on the way to Mt. Sinai.

_Justin's mother should be here soon_, he thought. He had been able to locate her phone number after the paramedics had given him Justin's cell phone for safekeeping as they prepared to transport him. Ethan had vaguely remembered Mrs. Taylor from when he and Justin had had lunch with her one day so long ago. She was understandably upset upon receiving the news her only son was in the hospital. God knows Justin had already seen his share of hospitals before.

He didn't understand how Justin's condition could have deteriorated so suddenly. He had only complained of a sore throat. _What is taking so damn long? _he wondered_._

"Ethan?" Justin's mother rushed through the double admitting doors. "How is Justin? Have you heard anything?" Her forehead was creased with worry.

"No, Mrs. Taylor, I'm sorry. I haven't heard anything since they brought him in. It's been over two HOURS. I don't understand it. He had a sore throat yesterday, but that was all he complained about. Then, like I told you, he just collapsed out in the hotel lobby." The violinist had not yet told her that Justin had seen Brian in the bar. Selfish or not, he had seen the way Brian had treated him and he did not want to run the risk of Brian knowing what had happened, and rushing here on some misguided mercy mission. He had already caused Justin enough anguish.

"Well, that's it. I can maybe understand the hospital not telling you his condition," she said somewhat sympathetically, "because you're not family. But I'm going to get to the bottom of this right now." Walking determinedly over to the patient registration counter, she cleared her throat to get the attention of a rather stocky, dark-haired nurse standing behind the desk.

"Excuse me. My name is Jennifer Taylor. My son, Justin, was brought in here a couple of hours ago by ambulance after he passed out. His friend hasn't heard anything since then, and I just got here. I need to know what's going on with my son." Standing a short distance from the nurse, she planted her feet there until the nurse acknowledged her.

"Yes, Mrs. Taylor. I know about your son. Dr. Monahan is working on him now. I'm sure as soon as he's finished, he will come out and give you a progress report. I'm afraid you'll just have to be patient," she said, somewhat patronizingly.

"Patient? Look, whoever you are, my son is in this city alone, and he has allergies to several medications. I need to talk to somebody about him NOW. I suggest you go get this Dr. Monahan immediately before I make a scene…."

"Mrs. Taylor," the nurse began before a tall, dark blond man walked up and interrupted her. "Excuse me. Did I hear you say you're Justin Taylor's mother?"

"That's right. You are….?"

"I'm Dr. Monahan, the emergency room physician. Would you come with me, please? I need to give you an update on your son." He gestured for her to follow him through the swinging emergency department doors. She hesitated briefly, concern written on her face at the doctor's very serious demeanor, before glancing back at Ethan and following the physician.

Instead of leading her to her son, the doctor motioned for her to follow him into a small room directly inside the emergency room. Closing the door behind him, he asked her to sit.

"Doctor? What is going on? I was told my son just had a sore throat."

"Mrs. Taylor, I'm going to be blunt with you. Your son is critically ill. We had to run a battery of tests, but we have finally determined he has a somewhat rare condition known as Lemierre's syndrome."

Jennifer was reeling at the doctor's use of the word "critical." She barely registered the rest of what he had said. "Lemierre's syndrome? I've never heard of that. What is it?"

"It's a complication that can set in after a patient develops a bacterial infection. It usually begins as a sore throat and is often mistaken for strep. In fact, I found a prescription for Zithromax in your son's pocket and called the urgent care center where it was prescribed. Justin had been there this morning complaining of a sore throat and they had ordered a throat culture for strep and mononucleosis, which I was told both came back negative earlier today. With Lemierre's syndrome, the bacterial infection can travel to the jugular vein, where it forms a blood clot. The blood clot can then break up and travel to other parts of the body. It appears that has happened in your son's case. He has developed sepsis, which is an infection in the bloodstream caused by the blood clot pieces forming abscesses where they land. Lemierre's syndrome is more common in people 15 to about 30 years old, so your son certainly fits within that demographic. In an odd way, your son was lucky, because one of our doctors on staff here was familiar with Lemierre's syndrome and requested a blood culture be conducted, which led to the correct diagnosis. The syndrome is so rare very few doctors are even familiar with it."

The doctor looked at her candidly. "I'm not going to gloss over the seriousness of this, Mrs. Taylor. This condition can be very resistant to a lot of antibiotics, and your son's blood pressure is low right now. We are currently treating him with oxygen, a saline solution, blood pressure medication and antibiotics. If he does not respond to treatment within the next 24 hours, this condition could be fatal." He briefly hesitated before adding softly, "If it were my son, I would call whoever you think needs to be here just in case."

Jennifer's eyes shone with unshed tears. Sniffling, she said, "Can I see him, doctor? Please."

The doctor nodded. "Just for a few minutes. He's not awake right now. He has been given a medication to induce sleep so his body can rest," he explained. "As you go out this door, make a right. Your son is in Room #5 about midway down. I have a nurse following his vital signs closely, and I am on call should anything happen. We're doing everything we can for him, Mrs. Taylor. I hope your son is a fighter," he said as he opened the door for her.

"He is, doctor," she answered with conviction. "He definitely is."

Jennifer walked hesitantly toward her son's room. She desperately wanted to see him, but was fearful of what she would see. As she reached Room #5, she peered through the door and gasped as she spotted her only son. Justin's face was pale, shining from a layer of sweat. A thin oxygen tube was protruding from his nose, and a blood pressure cuff was attached to his right arm. An IV dripped steadily into his left wrist. The steady beeping of the machines constantly monitoring her son's blood pressure, oxygen level, and heartbeat relentlessly sounded, oddly providing some type of comfort to his mother that at least her son was still fighting for his life.

Jennifer pushed a padded chair close to her son's bed. Sitting down, she clasped her son's lifeless, but warm hand. "Justin. Oh, sweetheart, what happened to you?" Her son's blond hair shone in stark contrast to his motionless body. Clearing her throat to dislodge the lump there, she sniffled before speaking again. Bending close to his ear, she whispered, "Listen to me, Justin. You've got to fight this, you hear me? You have never backed down from a fight before, mister, and you're not going to do it now. You've got too much to live for, and too much to give the world. And too many people that love you. Fight, Justin, fight," she urged him, gently brushing his soft hair back with her free hand.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a nurse smiling sadly, beckoning her from the room to indicate her short visiting time with her son was over for now. With one last sentence whispered in her son's ear – "I love you, sweetheart, I'll be back" – she reluctantly left his side to carry out the difficult task of contacting Justin's friends and family with the shocking news of her son's condition.

* * *

Jennifer walked as if in a trance back out to the waiting room where Ethan slumped tiredly in a chair. He jumped up as soon as he spotted her coming toward him. "How is he?" His heart fell as he noticed the tear tracks still evident on her elegant face. "Mrs. Taylor?" he prodded.

"Let's walk outside, Ethan. I need to make some calls," she answered, as the younger man anxiously followed.

Ethan stared in shock at Justin's mother as she proceeded to explain to him what the doctor had told her about her son's condition. He couldn't believe something as relatively minor as a sore throat had somehow progressed to a life-and-death battle. He had great difficulty reconciling his vision of the blond haired, blue-eyed artist that was always so full of life now confronting the greatest challenge he would ever face. He yearned to see his ex-lover to comfort him (and maybe derive a little for himself if he was truthful), but he knew right now it was not possible. Turning toward the brave woman struggling to keep her composure, he asked, "What can I do?"

"You can help me make some calls to his friends and his sister to let them know what is going on." She hesitated before confiding in him, "I guess I should call his father, but after Justin came out Craig disowned him for all intents and purposes. Even had him arrested. I want people here who love my son and will help him conquer this terrible illness. I don't want someone here with so much hate in his heart."

"You told me you had his cell phone?" Ethan nodded. "Well, see if you can find his friend Daphne's number and Debbie from the diner. Debbie can then call Michael and Ben for me. And see if you can find Emmett's number listed and call him, too. I'll take care of calling my daughter, Molly, and Justin's grandparents in New Hampshire."

One very important name remained unspoken between Jennifer and Justin's ex-lover. _Brian._ Justin had mentioned Brian the other day when he called her with the good news about his award. He had mentioned he couldn't reach Brian, and how terribly he missed him. _I wonder if he ever got a hold of him? _She knew Brian still loved her son deeply. Silently she promised her son she would find him and let him know what was going on. If anyone could encourage Justin to fight for his life, it would be Brian.

She turned her attention back to the curly-haired main. "Ethan? If you could start making those calls, I'm going to let the nurse inside know where we are in case there's any change in Justin's condition. I'll be right back." As she walked back toward the waiting room doors, she heard Ethan begin speaking to Daphne.

"Excuse me? I just wanted to tell you that I will be right outside the door in case there is any change in my son," Jennifer advised the nurse behind the patient registration station. The nurse fortunately decided she would try to be more civil to Justin's mother, and provided a pager to her that would vibrate should they need her to contact them. Thanking her wordlessly with a slight nod, Jennifer walked back outside the doors.

Deliberately walking a short distance in the opposite direction from Ethan for privacy, she dialed a speed number programmed into her phone. The phone rang several times before she sighed in frustration as the recipient's voicemail message began.

"Brian? It's Jennifer. Listen, I need you to come to Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City as soon as you get this message. It's an emergency," she added, urgency creeping into her voice. _Come on, Brian_, she thought impatiently. _Where are you?_ _Would he get this message before it's too late? _She shook herself. _Don't you DARE think that way, Jennifer Taylor! Your son's going to be okay._

Brian? Where are you? I need you to come here right away. It's Justin. Hurry," she pleaded, before reluctantly disconnecting the phone. _My son needs you,_ she added silently, before dialing her daughter with her sad news.


	8. Chapter 8: Rescue Mission

**_A/N: I want to thank everyone for the feedback - it is greatly appreciated! I hope you are enjoying it. Look out! Daphne's about to get involved - LOL!_**

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* * *

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Jennifer sat on a bench directly outside the emergency room entrance, exhaustion clearly written on her face. Justin had now been in the hospital all night. There had been no improvement in his condition, but at least it had not deteriorated. Debbie had finally convinced her to take a break from sitting with her son in the emergency room, but instead of trying to rest she was anxious to call Kinnetik, which should now be open, to see if Brian's assistant could help her locate the ad exec. She had had no luck reaching the man through his cell number or at the loft.

A familiar female voice answered on the second ring. "Kinnetik, Cynthia speaking."

"Cynthia, Thank God. It's Jennifer Taylor. I really need to reach Brian. Do you know where he is? He's not answering his cell and I've left several messages at the loft with no luck."

Cynthia hesitated. Brian had told her in no uncertain terms not to divulge his plan to surprise Justin in New York. She valued her job enough to know he would NOT be happy if she broke her promise, especially to Justin's mother. "I'm sorry, Jennifer, I don't know what to tell you. Brian's in Chicago on a business trip. I'm sure he'll be checking in if you want me to give him a message," she offered.

"Please. It's an emergency," Jennifer pleaded. "I'm here in New York. Justin was brought to the hospital last night. He's got an infection that's very serious." Jennifer couldn't help the catch in her voice as she forged ahead; her next words came out in a rush before she lost her composure completely. "Cynthia, the doctor says it could be fatal. I really need to reach him. I'm at Mt. Sinai Hospital. Please tell him to come here right away. Justin needs him."

"Wait, Jennifer! My God, I had no idea. I'm so sorry….I actually know where Brian is. He told me not to tell anyone because he wanted it to be a surprise. He's already in New York. He flew there a couple of days ago to surprise Justin. I don't understand why he won't answer his cell phone, but he told me he would be staying at the Ritz Carlton. Do you want me to call him for you?"

"Yes. Please, Cynthia, you've got to reach him before it's too late," Jennifer prayed, relieved that Brian was nearby. If anyone could help her son fight, it was his partner.

* * *

Brian's drug-infused mind was slow to acknowledge the annoying, incessant ringing in his ears. The bottle of Jim Beam he had used to gulp the pills down, too, hadn't helped. "What the fuck," he growled as he shook his head. Finally, he realized the noise was coming from the room's hotel phone.

"Fuck off!" He yelled into the receiver.

"Brian! Listen to me! It's Cynthia. Why the hell haven't you been picking up your cell? Jennifer Taylor's been trying to reach you for hours now."

"I don't want to talk to her, or to her spawn. Leave me the fuck alone!" He slammed the phone down angrily, only to hear it ring once again almost immediately. Brian ignored it as he dragged himself to the shower.

* * *

"Jennifer, I'm really sorry. I've tried to call Brian on his cell and on the hotel phone several times. Now he simply refuses to answer. I don't understand, but he seems angry at Justin for some reason. I just don't get it."

Jennifer closed her eyes, tears threatening to fall from frustration. Frustration at knowing her son's lover was so close by but for some inexplicable reason was refusing to even answer his phone. _What is going on? I feel like I'm stuck in some kind of nightmare I can't awaken from._ Her need to reach Brian was warring with her conviction not to leave her son in case his condition worsened.

"Mrs. Taylor? Were you able to reach Brian?" Daphne sat beside Jennifer on the bench, placing her hand on the older woman's shoulder, not sure if she was comforting her or if she was seeking it herself. She had wanted to stay with Justin, but the hospital had a strict rule that only one person could be in his room at a time and Debbie was currently watching over him. The worry was clearly etched on her face, a matching reflection of her friend's mother.

Jennifer turned to her son's friend. "No, I wasn't. I actually found out from Cynthia that Brian is already in New York." At Daphne's look of astonishment, she explained, "He's at the Ritz Carlton Hotel. Cynthia said he flew here a couple of days ago from Chicago to surprise Justin, but when she reached him a little while ago, he seemed mad at Justin for some reason, and refused to even listen to her. Now he won't answer the phone at all. I don't understand any of this. None of this makes any sense at all. My son can't tell us obviously. What is going on here, Daphne?"

"I don't know. I asked Ethan how he wound up with Justin yesterday afternoon, but all I got was some vague explanation about the two of them meeting for drinks at some bar in Soho just before Justin suddenly collapsed. But that doesn't sound like Justin. He wasn't interested in Ethan, and he certainly wouldn't want to encourage any type of relationship with him. Something doesn't add up here."

Daphne was lost in thought for a moment. "I left a message for my cousin to call me. I'm hoping she can tell me what's going on. I don't think she even knows about Justin being in the hospital. She works late and always turns her cell phone off when she goes to bed."

"Daphne, we've got to reach Brian somehow, but I just can't leave Justin here in case, you know,…." She couldn't make herself say the words out loud, as if that would somehow prevent something horrible from happening to her son.

"I know," Daphne said softly. She, too, was extremely concerned about her friend. The thought of never bouncing ideas off him, or never again telling him her innermost fears and secrets, was just not an option. Decision made, her voice rose as she stood up to face the older woman. "But I can. Justin needs him HERE. Brian is behaving like an asshole, and I'm going to straighten him out. If he won't answer the phone, he'll answer the door, damn it, if I have to bang on it for the rest of the day! Don't worry, Mrs. Taylor, I'm going down there and bring him back here myself!"

Jennifer looked at her son's friend gratefully. "Thank you, Daphne. I don't know what is going on with him, but I DO know my son needs him here."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Justin. I can be VERY persuasive when I need to be." Her long, curly hair swished to the side as she abruptly pirouetted and walked quickly toward the street to catch the next downtown subway train.

* * *

Daphne drummed her fingers on her thighs as she sat on the subway car, impatiently willing the train to arrive at the downtown station. Her fury rose as she played back the conversation she had had with her cousin a short while ago, when Annie had finally returned her call. Daphne was now beginning to understand what might be going on. Annie had filled her in on Justin's intention of meeting with Ethan to clear up any misguided hope that his ex-lover may have been holding onto about a possible reconciliation. What angered her, however, was the fact that Ethan had lied to her about where they were meeting. He had said they were meeting at a bar in Soho.

She was shocked, then, to find out from Annie that Ethan had asked Justin to meet him at the Ritz Carlton Hotel, where he was temporarily living. The SAME hotel Brian was staying at. Daphne didn't know all the pieces of the puzzle yet, but she knew that somehow Brian must have found out about Ethan and felt threatened by him. It was the only thing that made sense, the only explanation as to why he would be so angry at Justin. But right now, she didn't care. Her only concern was getting to Brian before it might be too late. _No, I am NOT going to think that way. He WILL be okay._ But in the back of her mind, Daphne had learned enough in her pre-med classes to know sepsis was a very serious condition. Justin COULD die. And if he does, she knew Brian would never forgive himself; he would never be the same. Justin had changed him somehow. And she liked this new Brian Kinney. At least most of the time, she thought ruefully. As the train finally slowed, she prayed silently that she would find the stubborn asshole and make him understand what he might be about to lose.


	9. Chapter 9: What Matters the Most

Daphne was grateful that Cynthia had booked Brian's room at the Ritz Carlton, because she knew the front desk would not be allowed to tell her which room he was in. Apparently trying to call Brian wouldn't work, either, because he was refusing to answer both the hotel room phone and his cell phone. Not a problem, she decided, since she always thought the direct approach was best.

Not one for subtlety when the event warranted it, she approached Room #589 and proceeded to knock. LOUDLY. She thought she heard a muffled voice telling her to "fuck off," but she wasn't sure, nor was she discouraged in the least. She could be even more stubborn than the man on the other side of the door.

She banged even louder on the door this time, so loud that the person staying in the next suite opened his door and poked his head out to see what the problem was. "Family emergency," she barked shortly, paying the swarthy-looking man little mind as he shook his head and finally went back inside.

"What the fuck do you WANT?" This time the voice was much closer to the door. _Good, we're making progress here._

"I want you to open the DOOR!" Daphne congratulated herself on her clear enunciation and loud voice. It was times like this that those types of talents came in handy. That and not being thwarted by a stubborn asshole holed up on the other side of the door. "I'm not leaving until you open the door, not matter how LONG it takes! Open up, you asshole, damn it! This is an EMERGENCY!"

Brian's head was pounding now, almost in perfect tempo with the intruder rapping on the door. Finally, sighing loudly in exasperation, he opened the door slightly to confirm it was Justin's obnoxious friend on the other side. _Wonderful – now he's brought in reinforcements to plead his case._

As soon as he opened the door just a crack, he was unexpectedly slammed back into the room as Daphne pushed on the door with all her might and came bursting in.

"You stubborn fucking idiot! Don't you know everybody's been trying to reach you since last night? Do you even care what's going on?"

"If you came here to plead mercy for your little boy lost, you can FORGET it," Brian snarled. "Let him go back to his little fiddler. I'm sure they can make beautiful music together. Leave me the fuck alone!"

_Aha. I had a feeling it was something like that. _Aloud, she continued, "You know, I'm not even sure why I should care at this point, because you're being an absolute asshole!"

Despite the young woman's fury plainly evident on her face, Brian also noticed something else there. Fear? Worry? He wasn't sure what the emotion was until her next words startled him.

"For your information, MR. KINNEY, Justin was taken to the hospital yesterday evening, and he's been there all night."

Stubbornly refusing to believe her, he asked, "What the fuck are you trying to pull? I SAW Justin yesterday afternoon, and he looked just peachy. He was having a grand 'ole time reuniting with his former love, the Paganini prick," he reported, scowling.

Daphne suddenly grabbed both of the man's arms almost violently. "Listen to me, Brian – we don't have TIME for this bullshit! I found out from Annie that Justin agreed to meet Ethan here at the hotel yesterday. I don't know what you think you saw, but I know what she TOLD me. She told me that she tried to talk Justin out of meeting him because he hadn't been feeling well for a couple of days, but he still wanted to go through with it because he wanted to set things straight with him, NOT go back to him. Justin wanted to make it clear how much he loved you, and that Ethan was wasting his time. That's all there was to it! Ethan was the one who called for the ambulance when Justin collapsed in the hotel lobby, but he LIED to me about where he met Justin. He said it was some bar in Soho. Do you really think you can believe anything Ethan does or says? Is it so hard for you to believe that Justin loves you by now? What is it going to take, Brian? His life?" Daphne's anger boiled over into hot tears, her face contorted with pain and frustration.

Brian studied her carefully. In his partially drug-infused stupor, he struggled to replay all of what Daphne had just said. When he had talked to Justin a couple of days ago, he DID mention he had a sore throat. What had happened since then to put him in the hospital?

"Back up, Daphne. Did you say Justin COLLAPSED? What exactly is wrong with him? He's going to be okay, isn't he? I mean, he's just tired, right?"

"NO, Brian! Why do you think Jennifer and Cynthia have been trying to reach you? Justin's got a blood infection. It's bad, Brian." The young woman sniffled as she struggled unsuccessfully to regain her composure. Somehow saying it out loud made it more real. "The doctors have him on a saline solution, antibiotics, and oxygen, but his blood pressure is low. Brian, he could die from this. He needs you – now!"

Brian's legs abruptly gave out and he slumped down on the couch, stunned. _No. Not after all he's been through. What have I done? What was I thinking? The ironic part is if that fucking Ian hadn't been there and called for help, Justin might have died._

"Brian! Snap out of it! We've got to go – now! Come on!" Daphne tugged urgently at his shirt, pulling him up forcefully from the couch. The thought of Justin possibly dying hit him like a ton of bricks, and quickly cleared out the remaining cobwebs from his brain. Picking up the phone just long enough to make sure a taxi would be waiting for them, he wordlessly grabbed Daphne's hand and ran with her out the door toward the elevators.

* * *

Ethan sat in the waiting room with his hands on his lap, cradling his head. He had been at the hospital now for the past 18 hours and had existed so far on several cups of coffee and a couple of donuts. Except for when Jennifer had politely thanked him earlier for calling the ambulance and for contacting Justin's friends, she had not made any additional overtures toward him since then. She had either spent all of her time with her son, or had taken short breaks outside or in the cafeteria to grab a quick bite to eat before going back in.

Looking around the waiting room, Ethan recognized Emmett and Ted, who had arrived a few hours ago, and also Debbie, the brassy lady from the diner who had spoken to him at a party Justin had taken him to several years ago. He had never met Justin's maternal grandparents, who had arrived about an hour ago from New Hampshire, but he discovered who they were when he overheard Molly speaking with them.

He had managed to grab snippets of information from Justin's friends and his grandparents about his condition as they came out from seeing him. And it wasn't good. Justin's condition was apparently slowly worsening. Despite the medication to raise his blood pressure, it was still dangerously low and the doctor was talking about possibly having to place him on a dialysis machine at least temporarily to avoid kidney failure.

He wondered where Daphne had gone to in such a hurry. He had seen her talking with Jennifer earlier, and then she had quickly left. He wasn't quite sure why he had lied to her about where he and Justin had met yesterday, but he felt that it wasn't wise to mention that the two of them had encountered Brian Kinney at the hotel's bar. Anything having to do with that man was trouble. He had despised him from the first moment he had realized he was Justin's boyfriend. All cocky and arrogant, like Justin was a piece of property, instead of a living, breathing person. Brian could never treat Justin the way he deserved to be treated. And now Ethan might lose the only chance he had to make amends to him. He jiggled his legs in frustration, trying to keep the exhaustion from overwhelming him.

He was just about to nod off when two people burst into the waiting room, including the man he most wanted to avoid – Brian Kinney. The man spared him only a cursory, scathing glance before he rushed up to Emmett and Ted.

"Ted! Em! How is he?" he asked urgently, holding his breath while he waited for the answer.

Both men looked away nervously. Images of Babylon after the bombing came flooding back to Brian. His hand balled into a fist as he grabbed Em's sleeve. "Emmett, tell me! How is Justin?"

Brian's heart sank as Emmett slowly looked up at him sympathetically with tears in his eyes. "It's not good, Brian," his friend said, so softly he had to strain to hear him. "His mom told us his condition has gotten worse. He's not responding to the blood pressure medicine, and the doctor thinks his kidneys are failing. They're talking about putting him on dialysis, and he still hasn't regained consciousness."

As Emmett reached out to hug her, Daphne's hand flew to her mouth as a sob broke from her throat. Brian's face contorted into pain as the man's news sunk in, but he refused to accept it. _No! I won't let you die on me, Sunshine. You hear me?_

Straightening his shoulders, he marched up to the admitting desk. "I need to see Justin Taylor," he demanded.

"Excuse me? Are you family? Only family members are permitted to see patients in the intensive care ward," a nurse informed him rudely.

Without hesitation, Brian stated, "Yes, I AM family. Now tell me where he is." He started to walk toward the swinging double doors before the same nurse reached out to stop him. "Just a minute, sir. Someone is already in there with Mr. Taylor. You can't just go in there without…."

"WATCH me," he growled, tugging the nurse's arm forcefully away from him.

The nurse was about to call security when Jennifer came out of the ward. "Brian! Thank God! I'm so glad you're here! Do you know what's happened?" Jennifer's normally neat and elegant face was now streaked with drying tears and lined with exhaustion.

"Yes, Daphne told me." He grasped her hands gently. "Is it true what Emmett said? Is he worse?" At that moment, it was hard to tell whether Jennifer or Brian was the most upset, their faces both mirroring each other's fear and great concern.

"Yes, it's true." As Brian released her hands, she reached up to wrap both of them on either side of his face. "Brian, listen to me. I don't know what happened or why you're angry with Justin, but I DO know he loves you very much. And despite everything, I know you love HIM. He needs you. I really think you're his last chance. You've got to somehow convince him to fight this, to not give up. PLEASE, Brian. I'm begging you."

Brian reached his arms around Jennifer, hugging her firmly. Pulling back a little to look down at her, he smiled sadly as he shook his head. "Why I was mad doesn't matter now. It was bullshit. It wasn't important. He's going to make it, Jennifer. I simply won't LET him die, you hear me?"

Jennifer smiled for the first time today. "I believe you, Brian. If anyone can make my son want to live, it's you. Please, Brian. He's in Room 5. Go and bring my son back to me."

Brian gave Jennifer a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing her. As Jennifer's mother stepped up to wrap a comforting arm around her daughter's shoulder, Brian nodded slightly to Daphne as he turned resolutely and walked through the double doors.


	10. Chapter 10: Love Can Save Us

Daphne let out a deep breath to try and calm herself as she watched Brian walk through the double doors into intensive care. _Come on, Brian. Bring him back to us,_ she pleaded silently. Hugging Jennifer wordlessly for a few seconds, she smiled encouragingly as she turned to look for a place to sit during what would no doubt be an interminably long wait in one of the lobby's hard plastic chairs.

She spied several familiar faces in the crowd, including Emmett, Ted, and Debbie, along with an older couple sitting next to Molly who must be her grandparents. She was startled, however, when she looked toward the back and observed Ethan Gold sitting with his head down, hands on his thighs.

Acknowledging this was probably not the wisest time to engage him in conversation, she nonetheless couldn't wait to have a few choice words with him. Walking determinedly over to him, she greeted him.

"Ethan? Remember me? Daphne?"

The man looked up at her then, eyes focusing in recognition. "Sure, I remember you, Daphne. I'm sorry we had to meet again under such terrible circumstances, though."

"Yeah, well, to be honest, I'm sorry we had to meet again at ALL. I need a word with you outside - NOW." Pointing a finger toward the exit doors, she stood firmly rooted to the spot until Ethan finally rose slowly from his chair and began to follow her.

"Okay, you've got my attention now. What do you want to talk about? I don't want to stay out here too long in case Justin's condition changes," Ethan said defiantly as he stood on the sidewalk facing the curly-haired spitfire.

"Why did you lie, Ethan?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ethan crossed his arms defiantly.

"I'm talking about where you said you and Justin met yesterday. You said you met him at a bar in Soho."

Daphne detected a slight tremor in the dark-haired man's voice as he replied, "So? What about it?"

"You didn't meet Justin at a bar in Soho. You met him at the Ritz Carlton, didn't you? And not only that, Brian saw the two of you there and jumped to conclusions, didn't he? Conclusions you were only too happy to perpetuate for your own goals. You really are pitiful, you know that?"

"I don't need to justify my actions to you. It's none of your fucking business. Why don't you just butt out? This is between Justin and me; it has NOTHING to do with you."

Daphne stabbed a finger into the man's chest. "Oh, on the contrary, I beg to differ – It has EVERYTHING to do with me, because Justin's my best friend! And for your information, my cousin Annie is his roommate, and she told me he only agreed to meet with you to tell you to move on because he HAS! He told her he loved BRIAN, not you, you asshole! And if you were so sure he loved YOU, you wouldn't have had a problem lying to me about Justin seeing Brian in the first place! And, furthermore, if you really loved him, you would have wanted what was best for HIM, not what YOU wanted! So why don't you just do us all a favor and get the hell out of here!" Daphne's rather vocal tirade was quickly becoming the center of attention from the nearby crowd, but she didn't care. Apparently this was the only way Ethan could understand perfect English.

Ethan was about to protest yet again that she was out of her mind, when he heard an older female voice speaking directly behind him. "She's right, Ethan. Everybody can see that except apparently you. That kid has been in love with Brian since the day they met, and that is NEVER going to change. Now you've got 30 seconds to get the fuck away from here, or I'll personally go in there and call security to have you removed!"

"You, you can't do that," Ethan sputtered, staring at Debbie vehemently, who was gesturing at him wildly.

"Oh, yeah? Watch me! I can make a really big stink when I have to! And I'll do whatever the fuck it takes to make sure Sunshine gets out of this hospital completely well. And that means NOT having to deal with the likes of you! So I suggest you leave. You've caused enough pain for him, AND for Brian." Debbie stared intensely at the violinist until he finally looked away, defeated.

"I'll call you later to see how he is," Ethan finally said to Daphne stubbornly, still clinging desperately to any hope that Justin might still harbor feelings for him.

"Don't bother. Because I WON'T answer." Turning on her heel, she and Debbie marched back into the waiting room to await the latest word on Justin's condition, as Ethan dejectedly trudged the other way in the direction of the subway station.

* * *

Brian slowly walked down the hall, smelling once again the antiseptic smells of a hospital intensive care ward. Not only the same smells, but the same sounds and sights he had remembered from several years ago, when he had waited desperately for a sign that Justin would pull through that horrendous bashing at the hands of Chris Hobbs. He couldn't believe that they were at the same crossroads once again, only this time it was an almost invisible, but insidious foe threatening to take the man he loved away from him.

_I'm NOT going to let that happen, Sunshine. You hear me? If you leave me, you might as well take me with you, because my life would end, too. _As he neared Justin's room, he steeled himself for what he might see. Still, he wasn't fully prepared for the sight that assaulted him – the young man he knew so intimately and that was usually so full of life and energy lay listless and still on a sea of white sheets, hooked up to blood pressure and heart monitors, with IVs infusing saline and medication into both slender arms and an oxygen tube held in place under his nose.

Brian let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding as he nervously approached his partner, trying to somehow WILL the younger man to wake up and look at him. But there was no outward sign that Justin knew he was in the room.

Sitting down in a chair that had been pushed next to the bed, he sat down and immediately reached to gently grasp a slender hand in his own, moving it to cradle the blond's hand against his worried face as he spoke to his lover with quiet urgency.

"Justin? Can you hear me? It's your fucked-up, stubborn asshole of a partner talking to you. Listen, Sunshine, I know I really messed up this time. I KNOW you love me. And I know I love YOU. You just make me crazy sometimes, you know that? You know I'm not good at this whole relationship shit. I mean, what do I know about healthy relationships? I certainly didn't learn about them from my prick of a father or my mother, the ice queen.

Brian continued to hold Justin's hand as he slowly lowered it down onto the bed, absently rubbing his fingers over the other man's knuckles. "Daphne told me what you were doing with Ethan yesterday," he said contritely. "I know you were meeting with that fucking, sorry excuse of a man just so you could put that chapter behind you. I know that NOW. But I also know I should have trusted you, Justin. And I'm sorry, Sunshine. You don't know HOW sorry." Brian sniffled and wiped his suddenly watery nose with the sleeve of his free hand. "But I can't adequately grovel unless you wake up," he insisted. "So come on, you stubborn little shit. Wake up." He squeezed the lifeless hand a little to emphasis his plea, but his partner remained motionless. "Come on, Justin," he said more softly. "You've played the drama queen long enough. I need you to wake up. Please, Sunshine." He reached over and placed gentle pressure on the full, pink lips to tenderly kiss him, then buried his face in the side of his lover's neck just below the ear. "Come on, Sunshine," he repeated pleadingly. "I need you. I LOVE you."

A woman studied the tall, handsome man sitting by the patient's bedside, murmuring words of encouragement while holding the young man's hand as he repeatedly caressed it with his thumb. She noticed his tousled, brown hair and his disheveled appearance, despite the expensive-looking clothes.

"Let me guess – an uncle?"

Brian didn't even look up. "No, not even close."

"I didn't think so. Don't worry – your secret's safe with me…..My brother's gay, too. The name's Julie."

"Brian." He nodded briefly in acknowledgement at the older, petite nurse standing at the door's threshold, not wanting to take more than a second to glance away from Justin.

"He's a beautiful-looking young man."

"Yes, he is," Brian replied without hesitation. "And his eyes are the most incredible shade of blue."

"I'm sure I'll get to see that for myself soon," she responded, encouragingly.

"You know what, though?" Brian's eyes misted over. "The most amazing thing is that he's even more beautiful on the INSIDE. "

She encouraged him softly, "Keep talking to him. I firmly believe a person who's unconscious can still hear what you're saying to them." She paused for a moment. "I'll be right outside at the nurse's station if you need anything." Before turning around, she added, "I'll be praying for your young man."

"Thanks."

Brian remained at Justin's side throughout the afternoon, mainly continuing to murmur words of encouragement and to plead for him to wake up, his hand holding the blond's slender one tightly, almost as if it were a lifeline. He didn't notice when Julie returned to the room around dinner time, observing him maintaining his steadfast vigil.

"Brian?" She called to him softly so as not to startle him. "I need for you to leave the room for just a few minutes while I take some blood and check his vitals. It will just take a minute or two, and then you can come right back in," she reassured him.

Brian hesitated for a few seconds; he did not want to leave Justin for even a minute. But finally, he leaned into his partner and whispered in his ear, "I'll be right back, Sunshine. I promise." He reluctantly let go of Justin's hand as he stood up and backed up from the bed, never taking his gaze from his lover's until he was forced to turn and leave the room.

"It will just take a few minutes," Julie repeated. "Why don't you take a short break? I'll come get you just as soon as I'm done, I promise." She smiled at him in understanding.

Brian rubbed his eyes in exhaustion and smiled a little at her in return. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll grab some coffee out in the waiting room. But come and get me as soon as you're done."

"I promise," Julie said, turning back to her patient with a syringe for the blood sample.

* * *

Jennifer rushed up to Brian as soon as she saw him coming out of the intensive care ward. "How is he?" She asked him urgently. Justin's friends and the rest of his family, also, stood nearby for encouraging news on his condition. Their faces dropped as they immediately discerned by his expression that there had been no appreciable change.

"He's the same," Brian sadly confirmed. "He's still unconscious. The nurse was checking his vital signs just now and taking a blood sample, so she told me to take a short break." He hugged Jennifer in a sign of comfort as she returned his embrace, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'm sure you're making a difference to him, Brian. I KNOW he realizes you're here, and that will make him fight even harder. He's always been a fighter, and he's not going to give up now. Not after he knows you're here with him."

Brian sighed, releasing his hold on her. "I hope you're right, Jennifer. I don't know what I would do if I lost him." He was increasingly getting worried, because he realized the few minutes Julie said she would need were stretching into more like five or ten minutes.

Just then, the doors quickly opened and Julie rushed up to him. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her, desperately trying to tell by her neutral expression if something had happened.

"Julie?" He whispered to her. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

Finally, Julie smiled. "You were right, Brian. His eyes ARE the most amazing shade of blue."

Brian was almost afraid he hadn't heard her correctly. His heart beat rapidly as he dared to ask, "He's awake?"

Her smile was now a radiant one as she said, "Yes. And he's asking for you."


	11. Chapter 11: The Right Refrain

Justin's family and friends gathered excitedly around the slight nurse as she clarified, "He's not totally out of the woods yet. But his blood pressure has risen slightly and his kidneys seem to be working on their own again for now. Both are good signs," she confirmed encouragingly.

Brian could not help the relieved smile that suddenly appeared on his face. Wanting desperately to see for himself that Justin was finally awake, he hurried toward the entrance doors to intensive care and then stopped, turning to look at Jennifer for silent permission.

"Go! I can see him afterward. Tell him we love him," she added, eyes shining with happy tears this time. That was all the encouragement Brian needed before he eagerly opened the double doors, Julie closely following on his heels. She stopped at the nearby nurse's station, curiously watching him as he passed by, gratitude and elation readily apparent now on his handsome, but tired face. He reached out to touch her briefly on the arm in an unspoken thank you before turning his attention to the room directly to her right.

Brian's concentration instantly zeroed in on his partner, who was not only awake but was miraculously sitting up in the bed. A man, obviously a doctor of some sort as evidenced by his white coat and stethoscope, was reading over Justin's chart studiously. Both men looked up as Brian came into the room, but the brunet's gaze was strictly reserved for the beautiful, blond vision whose amazing blue eyes were staring back at him intently.

The other man spoke up just then. "Dr. Monahan," the man said in introduction, nodding briefly at the visitor. "I hope you're Brian," he asked. "Because this patient needs to stay calm and get some rest, which he apparently won't do until he sees him."

"Don't worry, doc," Brian reassured him, never taking his eyes off Justin. "That's me. And I'll make damned sure he takes it easy, even if I have to SIT on him."

"Well, I wouldn't recommend THAT," he replied lightly. "But try to keep him QUIET. His body has been through a lot the last couple of days. Do you know if his mother is still out in the waiting area?" At Brian's nod of confirmation, he again warned Justin, "Remember what I said, young man. LOTS of rest – give your body time to heal." Nodding again at Brian, he advised, "I'm going to go give his mother an update on his condition," before heading briskly out the door.

A pair of hazel eyes locked onto blue ones; Brian moved somewhat hesitantly toward the bed, almost refusing to dare hope that his most desired wish had finally come true – the man he loved was finally awake. He let out a shaky breath he had been holding as Justin reached out a pale, slender hand to grasp his.

"Well, I guess that lets fucking out, since you need to stay quiet, huh?" Brian teased. "How are you feeling, Sunshine?" He finally sat down next to the bed, never letting go of the warm, soft hand.

"My throat still feels like shit, and I ache all over. And not in a good, life-affirming way," he answered softly in a raspy voice, a previous memory abruptly coming to the surface.

"Oh, I don't know, Sunshine. In my opinion, it's a fucking GOOD, life-affirming way," he said huskily, emotions constricting his own throat all of a sudden. His thoughts turned serious, as he revisited their last conversation in the hotel's lobby. It seemed like so long ago, but he knew the pain he had caused had to still be bubbling just under the surface.

"Justin? About the other night….."

"No, Brian, it's okay…."

"NO, Justin, it's NOT okay. You have to know…." Brian averted his eyes in embarrassment as he continued. "Daphne talked to Annie and she explained why you were meeting that, that _FIDDLER_." Justin had to smile slightly – even now Brian refused to call Ethan by his actual name, almost as if he could wish the man had never existed.

"Brian, listen to me. I DO understand. I heard what you said. I heard you tell me how much you love me. And I also recall something about groveling?" Blue eyes looked up at Brian mischievously through the long lashes.

Brian stammered, "You HEARD that? But you were unconscious."

"Unconscious, Mr. Kinney. NOT dead." He missed the slight shudder that went through Brian at the mere thought of what might have happened. "I'm going to make sure I get everything that's coming to me."

"Oh, don't worry, Sunshine, I intend for both of us to get what's coming." Justin rolled his eyes. "And make no mistake about it. As soon as your body heals and stops aching, I'm planning on inflicting a more pleasurable type of pain on you in our bed for at least a week." The sexy drawl and intense look Brian was giving him as he continued to caress the blond's hand and draw imaginary circles on his palm made the artist's body tingle all over. "That's a promise," he vowed, finally leaning closer to kiss the full lips firmly, his tongue seeking and obtaining a welcomed entrance into his lover's mouth. A satisfied sigh emitted from Justin as Brian's free hand wound itself around the other man's neck, ruffling the blond hair at his nape gently.

After several seconds, Brian reluctantly pulled back before their actions quickly escalated into a much more physical level; Justin groaned in disappointment. "The doctor said you needed to rest, Justin," the brunet reminded him reproachfully.

"Bri-an," Justin whined. He reached toward his partner in an attempt to pull him back by the neck for another kiss; to him one wasn't nearly enough. But Brian was not to be deterred; his need for Justin to heal and get out of the hospital as soon as possible superseded his immediate desires for now.

"Uh, uh, uh, Sunshine," he admonished the younger man. "There'll be plenty of time for that when you get out, trust me." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Julie again standing in the doorway, smiling.

"You look good together, Brian."

Brian smiled. "Yeah, we do, don't we? Justin, this is Julie. Julie, this is my partner, Justin," he announced proudly. The deep love the two had for each other was written clearly on both their faces.

"Well, I hate to say it, but Dr. Monahan wants Justin to get some rest," she said, nurse mode back in place. Smiling at both men's matching looks of disappointment, she laughed softly, adding, "Just for a little while. I promise I'll get you back in here after dinner time. I'll give you a couple more minutes to say goodbye," she said, winking, as she left them alone.

Brian turned his attention back to his lover, still clutching the pale hand. He couldn't stop thinking how lucky he was; lucky that this remarkable young man loved him, despite all his faults, and lucky that he would now have the rest of his life to continually prove to Justin just how precious he was to him. Smiling tenderly at his partner, he said softly, "I'll be back soon. I guess I'll have to let your mom see you, too. But her time will be strictly limited," he said seriously, eliciting a slight chuckle from the blond. He leaned forward to once again place a soft kiss on the inviting lips before pulling back. Resigning himself to being separated from his partner, Brian at last loosened his grip on the other's hand and stood up, stretching to relieve his now-stiff back.

"Later," he said, getting the same soft response from Justin in return. He backed out of the room, maintaining the other's gaze until he was forced to finally turn around and walk back toward the waiting room, a heavy burden finally lifted from his shoulders.


	12. Chapter 12 Bliss: Conclusion

**A/N: Here is the conclusion to "Heart Strings." I want to thank everyone who either read this story and/or reviewed it. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks again.**

_Six Months Later_

"Well, I think that about does it." Brian stood up, shaking the older man's hand. "I'll have my art department create some mock ups of both the print and television advertising campaigns, and have them delivered, say, Monday morning?"

"Sounds great, Brian," the older man said, smiling. "I must say – I'm very impressed with your ideas. Very innovative and _outside the box._ I was a little skeptical at first that you could carry it off, with your firm having to compete with the big guns here in New York. But you've made a believer out of me. _Kennedy and Collins_ better start looking over their shoulder."

"Oh, I've already outrun them, Clay. They just don't know it yet," he said, winking conspiratorially at his client. As he accompanied the man to his office door to walk him out, he heard the outer lobby door opening, then being slammed, followed by a loud "ow!" and a "shit!" closely following it.

Brian had to bite back a smile. _I know that voice_. "Justin?"

"Bri-an," an exasperated voice answered. "How many fucking times have I told you NOT to leave your briefcase by the door? If I have to tell you ONE more time….." The blond stopped abruptly as he rounded the corner heading toward the older man's agency office. "Oh, I'm sorry," he replied awkwardly, instantly donning a more business-like tone. "I didn't know you had a client." He whispered to the brunet, "_but I am NOT done with you, Mister."_

Bestowing his best _what did I do_ look on the blond, he said, "Clay Hart, I'd like you to meet the very-talented artiste-in-residence here, Justin Taylor-Kinney, also known as my klutzy husband," he smirked, receiving an annoyed grimace from the blond in return.

Hart smiled, shaking the outstretched hand. "Of course. I was hoping to meet you. I'm a big admirer of your work, Justin. I've actually got one of your paintings hanging in my office. I managed to wrestle one of them away from your husband when he thought I might be taking my business elsewhere." He turned back to Brian before opening the outer door in farewell. "Well, I'd best get going – I have a plane to catch." Looking over at Justin, he called out, "Nice meeting you." As Justin nodded back slightly in return, Hart couldn't help adding to Brian softly, "Better make up with your hubby. I wouldn't want to have a spitfire like that mad at me for long," he added helpfully.

"Don't worry, Clay," Brian replied, lowering his voice. "He might get mad at me, but the make-up sex is _incredible_," he added, confidentially.

Hart laughed loudly as he clapped Brian on the back and walked out.

"I heard that, Kinney. And you are SO not getting any tonight!" Justin stomped upstairs to the loft, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process, as he plopped down on the couch, his feet stinging from the painful encounter with his husband's briefcase. _What in the world does that man keep in THERE? That fucking briefcase must weigh a ton!_ _Probably a couple bottles of scotch,_ he thought, smirking.

Brian rolled his eyes. After locking up for the day, he located his now sulking husband upstairs. Justin pretended to ignore him as he sat down beside him. "Hard day at work, honey? Want me to kiss your boo-boos and make them better?" he asked innocently, reaching for the younger man's feet with the intention of giving them a massage.

"Leave my toes alone!" Justin attempted to yank his feet away, but was unsuccessful. Brian knew how much the blond adored having his feet massaged. Turning Justin's body sideways on the couch so his legs were sprawled over his thighs, Brian began to slowly knead the pale, smooth feet, eventually succeeding in receiving a sigh of contentment from his husband.

"You're still not getting any," Justin insisted, less convincing this time, though; his response was followed by a soft sound resembling a whimper as Brian continued to caress both of his feet. "Don't think that's going to change anything," he added, grumbling.

Brian smiled secretly as he looked away. _You little shit. You're SO easy….._Deciding that was enough foot massaging for the time being, he decided to up the ante a little more. Catching Justin off guard, he abruptly yanked at the other man's legs, pulling the rest of the blond's body toward him before he had any time to react.

"Oof! Brian!" That was about all he managed to utter before the older man quickly pulled him into his lap. "Stop it! I said you were NOT getting any tonight!" Justin squirmed, arms now making a half-hearted attempt to pull away from his husband as he pushed against the man's chest; in response, the brunet simply wrapped his arms tightly around the blond's waist to keep him from escaping.

"You're going to have to be more convincing than that, Sunshine," Brian whispered huskily as he licked below the blond's ear, turning his head to nuzzle the ear lobe and gently bite it, causing a shiver to escape from the slender body he was holding so firmly. "Cold, dear?" Brian asked in a mock falsetto. "You're shivering." He felt the artist's body tremble again as he licked a path from the man's ear down to his exposed creamy neck.

"You don't play fair, Mr. Kinney," Justin murmured, breathlessly. The hands that had previously been attempting a half-hearted escape now signaled capitulation, as they reached up to circle the older man's neck, fingers affectionately fanning through the soft, brown hair.

"Never. Not when it comes to you, _Mr. Taylor-Kinney._" Brian felt safe by now releasing the tight rein he held on his lover, reaching his right hand up to grasp the other man's left one. Kissing the ring finger adorned by the simple, platinum band, he was rewarded by a gasp of pleasure as he proceeded to take each of the alabaster fingers in his mouth, sucking on them one by one.

Justin finally had to admit defeat. Who was he kidding? He pulled firmly on the toned neck, bringing his husband's lips crashing down on his, tongues dueling for ownership. He felt more than heard the vibration of Brian's chuckle as their passionate kiss continued for several seconds, finally ending when each had to separate for air.

"All's fair in love and advertising, Sunshine," Brian drawled, as he suddenly stood up, arms this time under the blond's legs, which were now wrapping themselves obediently around the other man's waist. Locking them behind his husband, Justin laughed as Brian carried him eagerly toward the bedroom, stating, "Dr. Brothers always said to never go to bed angry. And to have hot, horny make-up sex like two bunnies fucking until their brains fall out. Why do you think I keep that briefcase by the door, Sunshine?"


End file.
