


After the Rain

by LibertySun



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Romance, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2014-03-26 21:40:43
Rating: M
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,171
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6198521/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2412077/LibertySun
Summary: While in New York on business, Brian encounters a gorgeous mysterious man with an unique dilemma. They come to learn that Brian is the man's only hope for survival, & may end up saving himself & changing his outlook on love in the process. A/U Paranormal





	1. Prologue

**_PROLOGUE  
_**

Roaring thunder crashed overhead, he jumped, laughing lightly at his nerves. He couldn't help feeling a little on edge. He had only been in this city for a few months, he didn't know his way around quite yet and he was exhausted.

He was still half a block from his apartment, and silently begged the rain to wait until he was inside to begin. Intense lightening illuminated the midnight sky. A disturbing icy shiver found it's way through his veins. _'Not again' _he thought.

For as long as he could remember he had always had an ability, an insight, that he could never explain, nor begin to comprehend. At this moment he knew with unbridled certainty that something unpleasant was about to occur.

Glancing around, he saw no one that looked out of place. With the intrusive sky threatening to pour at any moment, he increased his pace. Five more minutes and he'd be home. He'd be safe. The feeling would pass.

With the entrance to his building only feet away from him, the freezing increased. He closed his eyes tightly and made a valiant run for it. It wasn't enough. His insight was right. It _always_ was.

"Fuck you Faggot!" He heard the voice but never saw the face it belonged to. A searing pain tore through his head, then adamantly proceeded to burn every inch of his body.

The shiver had turned to solid ice within him. The fiery hurt melting away with his thoughts. He felt himself being pulled by an unknown force in all directions. Reality swirled around him in fragments.

Using every ounce of his rapidly deteriorating strength he brought a hand to the warmth escaping him. He observed his pale fingers, the essence of crimson was ever present.

Breathing the crisp air that's always born before the rain, the throbbing stopped. His heartbeat endlessly ceasing as he faded into nothingness.

Blinding light flashed with anguished authority. The heavens broke open, and the sky began to cry.

His scarlet blood danced within the downpour, washing away his existence.


	2. Vanish

Even under the cover of the awning, the nameless trick's face wore a mask of red light from the red neon rooster sign above them. Brian leaned back against the side of the building on the corner of 29 and 2nd Ave, '_The Cock' _bar.

According to Cynthia, with the severe weather and tonight's impending worsening of this storm, his flight had been canceled. He had only been in New York for approximately seven hours. This afternoon he hadn't needed more than twenty minutes and nine inches to 'seal the deal' on the '_Lindon's Leather' _account.

He had been hoping to return to the Pitts in time for the 'Studs & Suds' night at Babylon, but this intrusive rain had killed that dream. Nevertheless, he was Brian Kinney, loose in a new city with 'fresh meat'.

Cynthia had reserved him a room at the Plaza Hotel. If he was going to spend the night away from home, he was going to damn well enjoy the luxury of five fucking star accommodations. Also, (not by accident) it was close to the East Village, the heart of quintessential Gay New York.

He glanced once more at the twink whose mouth was currently accommodating his cock, then allowed his eyes to fall closed. He inhaled deeply, savoring the newly cleaned air the rain had washed, and the '_not too bad' _blow job he was receiving. He'd had better but he'd also had far worse.

Allowing the high quantity of alcohol swimming in his veins to relax him, he listened to the downpour surrounding them. He felt content.

Although, he'd told him he wouldn't, he finished in the trick's mouth. _'What-ever-the-fuck.' _The other man hadn't seemed to mind as much as he'd previously claimed, as he greedily ingested Brian's warmth.

He was contemplating taking this man back to his room, but decided he didn't want to parade this twink around the Plaza. Kinnetik's reputation was more important to him than a comfortable bed to fuck in. Against this wall would more than suffice.

As he turned the man around, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced up and forgot how to breathe. _He_ was goddamn gorgeous. Despite the lack of sun, his golden hair seemed to glisten even in the neon glows, and night sky. Those blue eyes seemed to pierce every part of Brian. He felt for certain they could see all the way to his fucking core.

He returned his attention to the willing ass in front of him. He pushed him aside. "Fuck off." He instructed the man who was spouting off something by way of _'What? Screw you! Who do you think you are?_' Brian wasn't sure. He didn't care. He was about to upgrade.

He looked once more at the breathtaking blue eyed blonde and licked his lips in anticipation. The blonde mirrored his action. '_Fucking hell' _Brain thought. He had never seen such a succulent pout before. His mind was flooded with a cascading burst of fantasies involving _those_ lips.

Upon further inspection Brian noticed that the man was not under the club's awning, but showering directly in the rain. However, he_ wasn't wet_. _'What the fuck?' _The brunette shook his head, convinced that the whiskey within was tricking his mind. He looked towards the man again, he was _gone_.

Brian turned around quickly (an action the tipsy part of him was none too happy about) and glanced in every direction. '_Where did he go? How could he get away that fast?' _He was too fucking wasted to contemplate something so convoluted. "Your loss blondie." he slurred to himself, as he hailed a cab.

Yes. He was suddenly feeling more than ready to pass the hell out.

* * *

"Wait!" The blonde cried as he outstretched his hand towards the fading form of perfection. This beautiful man had been the first person he had seen (_Them _notwithstanding_. _He shuddered) since he had arrived _here. _He didn't know where exactly _here_ was, a fact that terrified him almost as much as the place itself.

He didn't know where he was, how he had gotten here, nor' how long he had been walking these deserted streets. Hell, he wasn't exactly sure who _he_ was. He struggled with memories that were trapped beneath a frozen pond. They refused to break through the surface regardless of the force he applied.

_He was frustrated as fuck. _

The overwhelming sense that there was _somewhere_ he was supposed to be taunted him cruelly. Wherever that somewhere was, he was certain it was not here. Here, in this horrific world of chaos and nightmares.

For an unknown amount of time earlier, he had been convinced he was merely walking among a dream. However, somehow (he couldn't explain how) he _knew _that he was very much awake. He was very much treading the terrifying grounds of hell.

It hadn't been so bad at first. He had remembered being on a staircase in front of a building that he didn't recognize, yet it had a vague familiarity. Searching his mind to identify it, he grew angry. _'Why couldn't he remember anything _before_ that moment'? _

Anger and frustration emerged into fear when he first saw _them. _The only other beings that appeared to occupy this chilling universe with him. They were all the same. Black shadow like figures that appeared human, though were faceless. They mutely glided down the seemingly endless roads in a repetitious manner. Yes, out of all of the daunting things about this place it was _them_ who scared the blonde the most.

He looked up, the sky was still pitch black. No moon, no clouds, not a single fucking star in sight. The vast blackness attempted to devour him whole. Save for the occasional flashes of deep red lightening, nothing in this place lit up. Until, _him_.

The blonde had been bent down to touch his delicate fingers to the small river of liquid running down the asphalt. Unmistakably, it had been blood. Despite the increasingly sick feeling harboring in his stomach and the weakening of his knees, he'd managed to stand.

_He_ was there. Quite literally _glowing, _an aura of significant connection poured from him. The blonde was grateful for the sudden presence of once forgotten light.

The flawless brown haired stranger stood only feet from him. He appeared to be looking directly at him. The blonde had felt a pang of relevance when his eyes locked with those hazel pools. The man had _seen_ him, he was positive.

When he had opened his mouth to speak to him, to ask him so many of his unanswered questions, he was _gone. _The blonde watched in anguish as he simply vanished. Normally, he would question the possibility of such an occurrence, though _here _anything was possible.

A loud crash of thunder invaded the deafening silence. The man felt it vibrate his bones. Once again this world's boundless black sky began to dispense an equally black rain. Lifting his pale hand to the air, he watched the darkened drops embrace his flesh. It looked to him very much like ink.

Feeling scared, alone, and a disturbing longing to see the mysterious 'glowing man' again, the blonde sat in a corner and pulled his knees to his chest. His hopeless tears getting lost within the sinister shower.


	3. Escape

The sudden reverberating ringing startled Brian into consciousness. He released a groan that could've rivaled his 16 year old self's _'I don't wanna go to school' _gripe. Slowly he allowed his eyes to open in a squint.

Expecting to see his loft, he was slightly taken aback by the view. He soon remembered he was in a hotel suite in New York and his pounding head reminded him that he had had quite a night. _He thinks._

The events from the previous night were presented to him in a haze of red light, a faceless trick, a rain storm, and (he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the memory to surface) the hottest blonde he had ever seen. Yes. Brian was fairly sure that the man _was_ a memory, but was also undoubtedly gorgeous enough to have been born in his dreams.

He found a second to curse himself for being too drunk to keep tabs on the man before the ringing withdrew him from his self lecture. He pulled the covers over his very naked body, another groan escaping into the air.

Realizing that whoever-the-fuck was calling him wasn't going to let up, he reluctantly removed himself from the comfortable protest of a new day. Sitting up, he stretched, yawned, rubbed his eyes and grabbed the phone.

"What?" he nearly growled into the receiver.

"Christ. Who shot their load in your Cheerios?" Cynthia countered her boss' irritability.

Brian smiled "Good morning Dear." He crooned.

"You know it's almost noon. _Late night?" _he could _hear_ her smile. "The manager of 'The Cock' called me this morning. Apparently you left your cell there. They're waiting for you to pick it up. Your flights' at 3:00. A car will pick you up at the plaza at 2:15." She instructed all business.

Then, she added teasingly "You know, when I first saw the number was from your cell, I almost believed 'The Cock' was indeed _your cock_. It was only a matter of time before it got it's own line, started making calls and setting up appointments." she laughed lightly.

Brian returned her laugh and informed her that he'd retrieve his phone soon so that he'd be on time when his car arrived. She really was the perfect assistant for Brian Kinney.

* * *

The end of winter flirted openly with the signs of spring. The early afternoon sun was fanatically fighting for dominance over the threatening clouds.

Upon exiting 'The Cock' with his phone, Brian stopped at a coffee vendor on the corner.

He was getting sick of the rain storms blanketing the east coast, as well as the chilly wind currently tousling his uselessly styled hair.

He found himself grateful for the warmth the coffee in his hands was providing. He inhaled the delicious aroma, immediately it attacked his hangover. Wallet in hand, he glanced up, and saw _him. 'The blonde escape artist.' _

Not bothering to count it, he threw an excessive wad of cash towards the vendor. He ignored the man's shouts that it was too much, and rushed across the street. To Brian, it was worth every penny he had to ensure this man didn't slip through his fingers again.

The blonde had his head down and was frantically pacing back and forth. He wasn't speaking and didn't appear to have a specific destination. Brian watched as the street's crowd rushed passed him, no one bothering to see if he was OK. '_Fucking New Yorkers' _he spat mentally. This man clearly was in need of some sort of assistance.

'_Maybe he's lost. Maybe he needs help. Maybe he needs a ride.' _Brian thought. Then he thought about how he would very much like to give this young man a _'ride_'. He really was fucking breathtaking.

"Hey!" Brian called out almost as soon as his foot hit the sidewalk. "Excuse me!" he continued pushing his way through several men (all of whom were spouting off pick up lines, and one even grabbing his ass).

As he neared, he took a moment to drink the blonde in with urgent vigor. He was even better than his whiskey clouded mind had portrayed.

He was shorter and a few (though he refused to think a number) years younger than Brian. Too tight black dress slacks hugged his delicious ass. Fortunately, his navy style pea coat was waist length, as not to cover that asset. His hair appeared to have been literally made from silk, and his pale skin was practically luminescent.

Brian cursed the charcoal gray and blue (nowhere near the beautiful shade of his eyes) striped scarf that currently held his (no doubt) delicate neck hostage. His mind sent him an image of licking and sucking on that hidden treasure.

Those images paired with the paralyzing nature of '_oh fuck those' _lips, broke the dam wide open. A river of lust and an equally eager flow of blood rushed to Brian's cock.

Closer now, he started again "Excuse me?" he addressed the mysteriously anxious man.

The blonde stopped pacing and turned to look at him. Once again, Brian felt he was able to look _into _him. He shook his head slightly in effort to ease the intensity of that blazing blue stare.

"I think I saw you last night. Are you lost? Do you need help?" Brian urged softly.

The other man just stood there, and blinked awkwardly. Finally he spoke.

"You talkin' to me?" his tender voice caressed Brian from every angle.

"Who are you?" he joked "Robert De Niro?"

Again the man remained silently blinking and he looked confused. Brian guessed he was younger than he'd like to pretend. That perhaps 1976's 'Taxi Driver' wasn't among his film arsenal. Brian softened his eyes, and smiled.

"Is everything alright?" He asked the blonde in all seriousness.

* * *

The brunette stranger was back and he was _here_, talking to him. Too many questions raced through his mind, though none were kind enough to stop._ 'Who are you?' 'Who am _I_?' 'Where are we?'_, but the blonde couldn't get passed the shock of not only being seen by this man, but addressed as well.

'_You talkin' to me? Christ. He sounded so uneducated.' _

He glanced around, _of course _they were _still_ the only two people on the sidewalk. Looking back towards the beautiful brunette, he caught a glimpse of a colorful coffee cart across the street.

'_How long had that been there? Why had he never noticed it?' _He didn't have time to ponder the sudden appearance of color in this darkness before that delicious voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"What's your name?" Brian asked.

"Uh," he paused "My name?" _'Fuck. He _should_ know this' _"Why do you need to know my name? We just met, it's not important." The blonde stammered nervously.

The taller man shot a small look of confusion then continued, "Where are you headed? Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"Oh. Headed?" The man repeated.

Brian chuckled lightly "Are these particularly hard questions?" he teased.

The young man felt his cheeks grow hot. _'Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.'_

He opened his mouth to speak, instead he found no sound would come. He tried desperately to call out to the man whose presence was once again beginning to fade.

The heat of tears found their way to his cheeks before he'd even realized they'd formed.

He was alone. In the darkness. _Again. _

The sky amplified a thunderous round of applause, and the black rain began to fall harder than ever before.

* * *

"Fuck!" Brian yelled as a wild spray of water coated his left side. A cab had carelessly sped through the pond the rain had made.

"Sorry," he began turning back towards the other man. He was gone. _Again_.

Brian turned, searching feverishly but found no sign of the intriguing stranger.

Perplexed, he inquired quietly "How the hell do you do that Houdini?"

Noting the time, he felt a twinge of disappointment. He had to get back to the hotel before the car. Resentfully, he hailed a cab. He hated leaving the city without having had the blonde as a souvenir.


	4. Illusion

As he continued to pace the same street for an uncalculated amount of time, his wet clothes grew heavier. Since the brunettes' last appearance and _disappearance_, he could think of nothing else.

The man _hadn't_ known his name, a fact that further confused the blonde. He was sure that the beautiful stranger had shown up to explain things, however, now he had more questions than ever before.

"I want to see you again." he whispered. Hell, he didn't know if the man could hear him. _Here_ possibilities were quite literally endless.

Like a beacon in the storm, a light beckoned him. He found himself suddenly in front of a tall brick building he did not recognize. He tilted his head and took in the new arrival to this strange place.

A Soft glow poured from the windows surrounding the top floor. He felt a wave of calmness that he didn't understand. The shining rays called to him as clearly as if the building had spoken his name. _'Whatever that was'._

As he ascended the stairs he noticed (not for the first time) that his shoes made no sound as they connected with the ground. By the time he reached the top floor, he was once again completely dry.

A wide gray metal door stood proudly before him. He couldn't remember opening it, but found himself on the other side. Another foreign landscape wrapped around him tightly in a cloak of unfamiliarity.

He was standing on hard wood floors in a very spacious loft. A faint blue fog seemingly hovered in the air. The blonde cautiously treaded further, exploring this new environment. Though he hadn't heard them at first, there was no mistaking them now. Sounds of pleasure.

He mounted his silenced shoes onto a small step, and an immense flood of emotions surged through his veins. An endless array of feelings churned within him, albeit he was unable to identify a single one.

It was the stranger. He had willed himself to see him and here he was, and here too was the unidentified man he was currently buried within. The blonde's mouth fell open, though no words escaped.

* * *

Brian almost came home alone tonight. He had received a blowjob in the backroom earlier but his heart just wasn't in it. (As the saying goes. Brian-fucking-Kinney puts his heart in_ nothing._)

He hadn't been able to erase the nearly hypnotic man from his mind since he'd arrived home from New York two days ago. He couldn't fathom why this stranger kept consistently starring in his fantasies, like _now_ for instance.

His cock was currently surrounded by a persistent twink who had approached him as he was leaving Babylon. Brian had agreed to bring him home for one reason only. He was blonde.

Placing the man's face deep into the mattress had allowed him to easily picture the most incredible face he had ever seen. The bluest eyes. The fullest lips. Envisioning that face on the back of his eyelids, Brian increased his thrusts.

The surrogate blonde moaned, killing the moment. His voice was nothing compared to the vocal symphony the original blonde had conducted. The brunette slammed harder into him whilst pushing his head down further in an attempt to silence the offending sounds.

He brought his head forward and let his eyes open. _Houdini_'s blue eyes greeted him avidly. _'Fuck. This was one vivid fantasy.' _Brian thought as he imagined the ass in which he was pounding belonged to the man before him (_not_ to the man below). The thought alone brought him to climax.

He steadily watched the blonde _step_ forward. Brian quickly withdrew from the man on the bed and shook his head furiously. He looked up again, then man was _still_ there, inching ever closer to the bed. _'Oh fuck! Was this man really here? How did he know where to find him, how had he gotten in?' _Icy fingers of panic ran the length of Brian's body.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded.

"What? I, uh you brought me." The trick answered.

"Not you," Brian growled tossing the man his clothes and gestured towards the door "Get lost." he instructed further.

The man was startled but not surprised. Everyone knew Brian Kinney's '_fuck rules' _were pretty much carbon copied from the game 'Ding Dong Ditch'.

Hearing the door pulled closed Brian pulled on his pants hurriedly, leaving the top button undone. He cautiously approached this intruder.

'_Great. Just what he needed, _another _fucking stalker'._

"I believe I asked you a question. How did you get here?" he asked through a clenched jaw and burning eyes.

The other man jumped a little from the intensity in his glower.

"I," he spoke so softly it made Brian shiver (but he didn't pause to think about that reaction) "I don't know. I just wanted to, No. I _needed_ to see you. Then I was just here. I followed the light."

'_Christ.' _Brian thought _'He's the hottest man he'd ever seen _of course _he'd be a raving nut job.'_

Foregoing the obvious question of _"What light you weirdo?'" _Brian instead inquired "How did you find out who I was? What is it that you want from me?"

The blonde licked his lips, and despite the fact that this man _may_ or _may not _be an _'axe wielding serial stalker_', Brian was turned on.

"I didn't. I mean, I don't know who you are." he voice full of sadness "I don't know who I am. I was hoping that you did." he finished looking at the floor.

"Who? Huh? Me? What? Wait. I don't understand." Brian was hoping that there was a sentence in there somewhere. His head was spinning.

Yes. That was it. His head was fucked up, he silently cursed Anita for what-ever-the-fuck she cooked up. That shit apparently contained a hallucinogenic. _Producing_ _very adorable and only _slightly _creepy hallucinations._

"In the dark place, there's only you that shines." The hallucination began walking way _too close _to Brian "Please." it pleaded.

Brian stumbled backwards and went to the kitchen. Removing a bottle of water from the fridge he drank it all in nearly one swallow. He needed to get the tainted drug out of his system.

"Get a grip Kinney. You're losing it here." he told himself, the empty loft, and the figment of his imagination with the delicious ass.

He closed the door and felt his skeleton leap from his skin. Those blue eyes were within inches from his. He closed his eyes tightly.

"Please you're the only person I've seen." The illusion was still talking.

Defeated, he opened his eyes. "OK, time for imaginary boys to get the hell out of my loft." he stated in a shaky voice he didn't recognize.

He lifted his hand and went to push the blonde towards the door. Which is exactly what _would_ have happened. Exactly what _should_ have happened. That is of course, had Brian's hand not gone completely _through _the mysterious stranger.

The action startled both men into a state of paralyzing, non-verbal hysteria.

'_What the fuck?' _resounded loudly through both blonde and brunette's heads.

Brian didn't say a word. Rising from the undertow of unexplainable thoughts he went directly to the counter; removed the lid from the beam and took one long swig. Gripping the bottle close to himself he walked swiftly to his bed.

Yes. He would drown this drug induced man with alcohol.

As he finally began to fade into unconsciousness, Brian worried that perhaps he was unequivocally cracking up. Should he make a reservation for a pretty room with padded walls and jacket that would let him hug himself? With his last fleeting thought, he wondered if said jacket was available in _'Armani_'.

* * *

The blonde watched the beautiful bronze man fall into a deep sleep. He realized with a start, that he couldn't remember the last time he had slept. The last time he had even _felt_ tired. He applied the same wonder towards the last time he ate, or even _felt_ hungry.

Though these thoughts confused him, _nothing_ perturbed him more than the fact that he was (much to his surprise and dismay) apparently _transparent._


	5. Sunshine

Dawn embraced the loft, soft rays of the newly awakened sun spilled through the windows. Brian's eyes fluttered gently threatening to open. A yawn fell from his mouth as he proceeded to stretch his lean body. With a heavy sigh he fully emerged from his drunken slumber.

Immediately he knew he wasn't alone. His eyes caressed the lithe form of the enigmatic blonde threatening his mental stability. He was standing silently in front of the window watching the sunrise.

The early morning glow seemingly ignited the man's own radiance. His golden hair had a near mesmerizing sheen, and as before, Brian was convinced the man's skin was literally illuminated. For a brief moment (very brief) his mind traveled back to church with St. Joan. _'Could this heavenly man be an angel?'_

His breath stubbornly refused to emit. _'The sky's sun was merely providing a backdrop for the true sunshine before him.' _he thought.

_'Christ. He needed to go back to bed. Somehow he'd woken up a lesbian'._

"Why are you still here? I thought I drank you away." he grumbled while stripping out of the pants he'd passed out in.

Though Brian had never thought that ghosts existed, he was hard pressed to explain this blonde away. As much as Brian Kinney didn't do ghosts, he didn't do angels even more.

He was the king of spinning and twisting situations so that they appear more appealing. Sadly, no amount of campaign glimmer could ever cover the fact that Brian was in the presence of _something_ he didn't believe in.

The window gazer turned, seeing Brian Kinney completely naked, his blood proceeded to kiss his cheeks. _'Ghosts don't blush do they?' _Providing a pink hue on his porcelain flesh, had in turn produced a flow of blood to Brian's own body part.

'_Fuck. He really _was_ messed up. This ghost, hallucination or whatever-the-fuck should _not_ be making him hot. Although he was always up for new things and had had several fantasies of his own; a phantom fetish was never among them.'_

"I didn't want to leave. I just watched you sleep, and waited for you to wake up so you can help me." He said, filling the latter words with hope.

"I can't help you." Brian replied roughly as he entered the shower.

The young man gazed at Brian awe stricken. He was _perfect. _His lean body was muscular and toned, but not overly so. Watching now as the water ran the entire length of this bronzed God, he focused his blue eyes on one particular drop. He watched steadily that bead of liquid run down his arm and pause on the tip of his long luxurious finger. _'Fuck.' _He wanted more than anything to feel those fingers on him, _in _him. He shook the thought away. It wasn't possible. This man wasn't even going to help him.

"You offered to help me before," he began

"Before," the brunette interjected with a wry chuckle "in New York. When I thought there was a chance I'd get to fuck you."

The blonde was fuming. This man was as arrogant as he was sexy. His anger quickly turned to (yet even more) confusion. _'New York? Where were they now?'_

"Where are we?" he asked bluntly.

The taller man sighed, "Ah, the lavish wonderland of glorious Pittsburgh." he stated dryly, while (quite deliberately) soaping himself ever so slowly.

'_What was he doing? This blonde was _not _an option. Why did he care so much to tease him?' _Brian wondered abruptly, then quickly rinsed off. _'Yes. The padded walls were closing in.'_

"What's your name?" The figment inquired.

Brian smirked and purred "What would you like it to be?" _'Stop it.' _he scolded himself.

Letting himself relax, he grabbed a towel and answered, "Brian Kinney." Hazel met blue, "What about you? Are we still unclear as to our own?" he asked.

The blonde sighed and looked at his feet, wetness beginning to glaze his crystal blues. More than anything he wanted to know who he was.

"Yes, still unclear. I can't remember _anything_." he whispered in defeat.

The soft emotion wrapped within his voice sent a (tiny) shiver of compassion through Brian.

"Look," he began while dressing. "I wish I could help you. Really I do," (He really did. _Sort of_.) "but I'm no 'Ghost Whisperer'. I'm a very busy man. I don't have time to deal with this." he came off crueler than intended.

The boy looked as if Brian had hit him. A fact not unnoticed by Brian himself. Finishing the knot in his tie, he eased his posture.

"There's got to be someone else." he stated simply.

'_Someone else? Someone else? There was no one. He had been completely alone until Brian. This man was the only person to see and hear him in God knows how long. He was unwilling to help him, to even try. What was he supposed to do now?'_

"You have to help me." he pleaded.

"No. I _have_ to go eat breakfast and get to work. You, _have _to 'go into the light' or what-ever-the-fuck." he said in an almost sing-songy manner as he waved his hand towards the sky with a delicate flick of his wrist.

The blonde's blood began to boil. He was steadily growing more and more pissed at this irritating but beautiful asshole.

"I'm _NOT_ dead!" he screamed, startling the brunette. "Don't you think I'd _KNOW_ if I was dead? Don't you think I'd _FEEL_ It?" he was livid.

'_God. He's so fucking adorable when he's angry.' _Brian's inner 'phantom fetish lover' declared.

Now fully dressed, he approached the fair haired spitfire. With more dramatic flare than necessary, he proceeded to dance his hands through the man in all directions.

"Well, you sure as shit _FEEL_ dead to me Sunshine." Brian felt a cold tingle assault his fingers.

Ignoring the delightful pleasure he felt in hearing Brian call him 'Sunshine', the blonde growled in frustration.

"So, let's say for arguments sake, that you are in fact _NOT_ dead." Brian reasoned "Then what pray tell _are_ you?" He maintained eye contact. The boy did not deter, and remained silent.

Noting the other man was waiting for him to continue, Brian spoke again. "Have you come baring rattling chains, and infinite wisdom to show me the error of my ways?"

The blonde shot him a look of disdain that if given a chance, could've melted Brian's face.

Nevertheless, the brunette smirked. "No? well then, Do I get three wishes? Because I would really enjoy being twenty one again." he said through a smile.

He very much enjoyed watching anger swim in those blue oceans and the vexed tinge to the blonde's breaths. Just _another_ of the young man's antics that Brian found deliciously hot.

'_Christ. He had to get out of here before the cracks in his sanity completely crumbled to dust.'_

Wordlessly, he exited the loft.

* * *

As the door closed taking away his only hope, it took the world along with it. The blonde watched bewildered as the safe confines of Brian's loft began to dissipate.

The sunlight harshly replaced by the dreaded darkness.

"No." he nearly whimpered.

Fear found it's way to every nerve ending he possessed. He hadn't wanted to come back_ here_. He wanted to stay close to Brian.

In spite of his resistance he was once again alone on the deserted streets of his own personal hell.

He felt himself being smothered by the shroud of self pity. Struggling against suffocation, he cleared his head. _'No. he wasn't some scared little faggot.'_

Brian Kinney could _see _him.

Brian Kinney could _hear_ him.

Damn it, Brian Kinney was going to _help_ him whether he liked it or not.

Encased in an aura of newfound confidence and willpower, he closed his eyes and thought of _him._

An unidentifiable force began to tug at him. When the feeling ceased, he opened his eyes. He faltered slightly as he quickly noted the changes around him.

First and foremost his eyes were drawn to the sky above. No longer was it a vast oblivion of darkness, it had _brightened_. Though still not the blue in which he so longed for, the paled gray filled him with a small promise. The rain too, had lightened. It fell now in a steady drizzle, nothing like the violent storm before.

Directing his gaze back to eye level he inspected this world's newest manifestation.

It was a brightly lit building bursting with color. He read the sign '_Liberty Diner'_. Somehow he _knew _that the brunette was seated within.

With a heavy sigh of determination, he crossed the threshold.


	6. Exist

"These sure are the best pancakes ever daddy." Gus claimed through a mouthful of fluffy goodness.

Brian sent his son a smile and received a sticky syrup covered thumbs up in return.

He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth for the hundredth time and set it back down without taking a sip. Though his body was in this booth with Gus, his mind was still back at his loft.

Four days ago his life was normal, he was _whole_. Two blue eyes and one perfect ass later and he had become completely unglued. Too many pieces to ever put right again. Brian Kinney, '_some assembly required'_.

He'd endlessly replayed every moment he'd spent with the blonde. Each time drawing no more of a reasonable conclusion than the time before. He had lost all sense of reality. He had lost _control_ and he fucking hated it.

"Who's that man daddy? He lights up! So cool. Is he a superhero? You know, like Spiderman? Yeah, Spiderman was bit by a radio light up spider." a tiny voice retrieved Brian from his inner wallowing.

He followed his son's gaze and groaned _loudly_. Loud enough to warrant a _very_ strange look from the mini Kinney across from him. _'What was he doing here? Hadn't he made himself perfectly clear this morning? He couldn't help him.' _

He watched silently, paralyzed by this man's invasion as he sauntered towards the booth. Yes. He was most certainly invading _every _aspect of his life, showing up places he had no business being.

It took Brian _too long _to process the fact that Gus had moved his backpack aside to allow a seat for this man. His son could _see_ him.

'_Holy hell. Was Psychosis hereditary?' _Quickly Brian searched his mind's storage from Psychology 101. Shit. He shouldn't have spent so many of his college days getting high. _'What were the qualifications for mass hysteria?'_

Gus giggled at the faces the blonde was currently making at him. Against his better judgment, Brian found the interaction between his Sonny Boy and his hallucination endearing.

His son turned to meet his eyes "Who is he daddy? I like him."

He glanced towards the other man who was now wearing an expression of sadness. _'Who is he indeed._' he thought, before returning his attention back to Gus.

"He's just daddy's imaginary friend." he explained.

"Oh." Gus replied matter-of-factly. "My friend Ryan has a 'maginary friend. His name's Taco. Yeah, I've never met Taco though, on the count cause he's invisible."

He rather liked that's daddy's friend wasn't invisible. Maybe he could be his 'maginary friend too.

"So?" Debbie's voice startled Brian. "Would your _friend_ like anything for breakfast?" she looked at him like he had completely lost his mind. Fuck. Maybe he _had_. He smirked "He's not hungry." he replied.

The woman directed her attention to Gus, "Your mommy's at the door, she's ready to take you to school honey."

Gus smiled brightly, and slid out of his seat, _through _his daddy's friend. He turned and looked at Brian with an '_Oh wow' _face then hugged him goodbye. Debbie delivered one last parting glance before retreating to the counter.

'_Ding ding ding' _the kitchen's bell sounded.

Brian looked at the blonde and raised an eyebrow "There's the bell ring Sunshine. You getting your wings now?" he mused.

The other man feigned laughter, voice dripping with sarcasm "Funny guy. Wings are for angels. Angels are dead, I'm NOT."

Brian rolled his eyes, threw a tip on the table and exited the diner.

His gorgeous '_sort of imaginary, not quite invisible, figment, illusion, bad trip hallucination, radio light up superhero, non ghost, undead, wingless angel' _followed close behind.

* * *

'_Brian had a son?' _He hadn't expected this man to be paternal, it was rather refreshing to learn. Even more so, the child had _seen_ him. A fact that produced an immense sting of hope in his heart.

In the presence of his little boy, the brunette had exuded an inner happiness that the blonde felt fortunate to have witnessed. Yes. Mr. Kinney was proving to be chock-full of complexities.

With each revelation to the man's _true_ identity (_not_ the façade he so proudly displayed), he found himself never wanting to leave his side.

From his frustration, emerged resentment. He greatly resented that he could no longer explain his own existence, and he did exist, of this he was certain.

He stole a delicious glance of perfection.

'_Christ. He wanted to touch this man.'_

Letting his eyes further explore Brian, he paused when he reached his lips. Lips that more often than not spouted faux words of roughness and confidence. He could see _through _(he internally laughed at the irony) them, revealing the tender pout underneath.

'_Christ. He wanted to kiss this man.'_

_

* * *

_

Feeling the intensity of the passenger's eyes on him, but needing to keep his own on the road, Brian spoke.

"Like what you see Sunshine?" he drawled sexily as the corners of his mouth danced upwards.

He allowed himself a quick glance towards the other man, and felt a shiver of satisfaction noting the embarrassment he had caused.

He wasn't sure _why _he kept flirting with this man, this ghost, this '_yet to be determined' _blonde. Nevertheless he couldn't help himself; (hologram or not) he was the most beautiful thing Brian had ever seen.

"I need you Brian." that beautiful mouth whispered.

His gentle pleads floated towards Brian in slow motion, leaving the brunette feeling dizzy. Instinctively, he imagined those _same_ words spoken from those _same_ lips, under entirely _different_ circumstances.

His desire to ravish this man was superseding his desire to make him disappear forever.

'_What if he really _wasn't _dead? Was there a chance he'd actually get to _feel_ him?' _Before completely dismissing the thoughts, he let himself feel buoyant. For _a sliver of a moment _he silently wished that this illusion's delusions were valid.

"I need you." The man repeated. Brian's _everything_ ached with an emotion he chose not to identify or address.

Pulling the car in front of 'Kinnetik', he cut the ignition and turned to face the _'forbidden fuck' _currently riding shot gun. The pleading in the man's voice had been nothing compared to the desperate longing protruding from his eyes.

Brian _softened_. Softened his posture, his voice, his attitude, his eyes, and his resistance.

"What is it exactly that you think I can do?" he asked with (for the first time) absolute sincerity.

"Well, I guess we could start by finding out who the fuck I am?" he stated questioningly.

Brian chuckled lightly, "Was that a question or a suggestion Sunshine?"

Pink once again kissed porcelain and the blonde tilted his head down. "Both?" he said again in the same manner, eliciting a genuine grin from the driver.

'_OK.' _Brian concluded. _'If he was going to be forced to harbor a fictional chaperon, he supposed this particular man was pleasant enough company.'_

He climbed out of the car, and jumped slightly when he saw the other man already standing in front of him.

"You're a quick shit aren't ya?" he joked whilst mildly embracing the fact that (for all intents and purposes) he was talking to _himself_.

He opened the door but did not enter. Instead he had held it open for his imaginary friend, who eagerly accepted the invite.

'_Brian was really going to try. He was going to get some answers.' _the blonde thought and for the first time within his new set of memories, felt optimistic.

* * *

Ted watched as his boss opened the door mumbling lightly to himself. Instead of entering, he had swept his hand forward, _inviting in? _He hadn't the fucking foggiest. In truth Brian Kinney had his quirks, but that was _weird_.

Opting to delay the morning pleasantries, he approached Cynthia's desk.

"He's here." he announced simply, then mentally added _'Alone. I think.'_

Cynthia hurriedly gathered numerous files and messages from her desk. Since landing the _'Lindon's Leather' _account, Brian had been seemingly avoiding a significant bulk of his workload.

The job opening in the Art Department had attracted a fuck ton of unemployed hopefuls. She'd be damned if she was going to allow him to stick her with sorting through them alone.

A blur of 'Hugo Boss' rushed passed her. "Where's the fire Boss?" she inquired grabbing his nearest sleeve.

He stopped, glanced at her hand gripping his coat, and shot her a '_You're so fired' _look. She ignored it and smiled.

"Well now, he really is too die for isn't he Ted?" she smirked and continued, "We're starting to forget what you look like around here." Brian was surprised that the coolness in her voice was not producing fog.

He glanced down at the monstrous stack of papers she had (none to gently) placed into his hands. This _'cute blonde pest infestation_' was completely drawing his focus away from his business. _He needed a goddamn exterminator._

A small grin found his lips as he noted his assistant's colorful POST-IT notes requesting a raise and an all expense paid business trip to Tahiti.

"Thanks," he leaned to kiss her cheek "I know we've got the art position interviews. I _promise_ I'll look at the resumes today." he offered in hopes of making the fiery woman less likely to castrate him. He sighed in relief as he watched her relax.

He shot a nod towards the smiling man presently handing him a mug of coffee. "Morning Theodore." he took the offered caffeine, silently wishing it was something stronger.

Brian waited idly for a brief moment, to see if either employee had noticed it was _'Bring your Ghost to work day.' _

Their empty stares confirmed that as of late, it was only him and Gus currently aboard the crazy train. He met the engineer's blue eyes and headed to his office.

He heard Cynthia call out "OK, So? I'll just book Tahiti then?" before he pulled the door closed.


	7. Haunt

Yes. Brian Kinney was full of surprises. 'Kinnetik' (the remodeled 'bath house' he'd come to learn) was amazing. Everything. The décor, the clientele, the 'business suit' the air seemed to don. Though not as hot as Brian's, it fit the atmosphere well. The blonde was impressed.

The brunette was sitting on (not at) the desk that demanded attention, center stage of the room. The other man watched as those long, lust worthy fingers flipped absentmindedly through the papers they held.

"Hey. Can you put those down?" he asked trying his best to sound authoritative. "We've got work to do."

Hazel eyes glanced up, filled with amusement. "_This_ is work too Sunshine. It pays the bills. The only thing you're going to help pay is my inevitable therapist's salary." Brian smirked.

"Ha. Ha." the blonde stated dryly.

Brian put the resumes down, and made a show of providing his undivided attention. His body language screamed _'I'm all yours'. _His head, his cock , and his (no. not his heart.) echoed the phrase.

"So. Where do you go when you're not _haunting_ me?" his words elicited a scoff from the young man currently rolling his eyes.

On a list of conversations Brian never thought he'd be participating in, this one ranked the fucking top.

He watched that smooth pale face fall, and saw those downright addictive eyes_ 'Yes. blue was definitely his favorite color' _lose their sparkle. The sadness engulfing the blonde's lithe body sent a similar emotion through the brunette.

"I don't know where it is, but I hate it." his voice barely above a whisper "It's terrifying. It's dark, and painstakingly lonesome."

Brian had no idea how to respond, so he did not.

"But now," his voice rose in synch with his eyes that now met Brian's "It seems to brighten every time I return from being with you."

As he listened to his hallucination further explain the details of his 'dark place'; an intrusive unfamiliar feeling caught Brian completely off guard.

He didn't understand why the idea that he was '_lighting up the blonde's world'_ so to speak, danced a shiver down his spine. Nor' did he understand why that thought didn't scare him nearly as much as it should, or why he didn't mind.

The sudden absence of sound withdrew Brian from himself, he looked up. The wingless angel was lost in concentration as he stared at the mock ups displayed in the corner of the office.

"Hmm," he said as much to himself as anyone else "perhaps a subtle hue of yellow or pale peach behind the font would help bring this together. An underlying glow could really soften the harshness of it all. You know? Make it a little warmer, friendly."

He turned wide eyes to see the brunette's mirroring the action. Both men were pleasantly surprised.

"Maybe I was a , uh, what exactly are you again?" he mused.

Brian sent him a mocking grin, "Ad executive, or _GENIUS_, but no. There's no way you were in advertising." he stated with conviction, then continued "Trust me. If you were I'd have _definitely_ heard of you, fucked you, _and_ stolen your business by now." he said in an exceedingly formal tone.

His '_oh so fuckable figment' _smiled. No he didn't just _smile_. He flat out fucking burst the hell open. Blinding radiance flooded the entire goddamn room.

The man produced a light and a warmth that sent so many feelings coursing through Brian that they counteracted one another. He was euphorically _numb_.

'_If Sunshine hadn't been a proper nickname before, it was most certainly deserved now' _He thought hazily, still under the spell of this delicious glow. Brian couldn't help a wide smile from spilling across his own face. _'Fuck. This twat was contagious.'_

_

* * *

_

'_What do I say? Just ask him if he's alone? If he's on something? Shit. He's going to fire my ass, but only _after_ he removes the Gucci shoe he's going to ram into it. Damn Cynthia and her superior 'rock-paper-scissor' skills. Now, if she'd only agreed to _COCK_-paper-scissors like I had suggested, it'd be _her_ currently walking the green mile.' _Ted rambled mentally as he approached his boss' door.

Though he hadn't told her about Brian's courteous manners with which he treated his invisible guest this morning, she had clearly heard him (as did the rest of the office) talking to himself all morning.

Their first thought was of course the telephone, but all of the phone lines' lights were unlit. His cell was also not an option seeing as how it was _still_ on Cynthia's desk where he had set it down when he'd first come in. Ted worried for his sanity, and Cynthia just curious in nature, had played for who was going to see what the hell was going on.

He for one, was praying to find him indulging in massive amounts of alcohol. _'What would become of Liberty Avenue, if it's King was certifiably off his (one) nut?'_

He knocked lightly, then without waiting for a response opened the door slightly, "Hey Bri, Working too hard?" he inquired softly.

* * *

Brian had been racking his brain for a way he could help Sunshine, and repeatedly came up empty. _'Where do you even begin to solve such an one of a kind, overly dramatic dilemma?'_

Immediately following that thought, Theodore appeared. '_Of course'_. If they were indeed going to be dealing with '_one of a kind and overly dramatic_', they were going to need an expert. Hell, they needed the fucking _Queen._

He smiled up at his friend and asked, "What are you and Emmett doing this evening?"

* * *

'_I'm seeing someone.' _Brian's declaration was fervently bouncing around the walls of Emmett's head.

"Well, baby I think that's wonderful," Emmett began but was interrupted.

"Whaaaaaat?" Ted gaped open mouthed. "The great, all mighty _'_fuck em' and dump em', 'I don't believe in love', Pittsburgh's finest with a severe commitment allergy has a," he paused "_boyfriend_?" he whispered the word as to increase dramatic effect.

"What the fuck?" Brian experienced whiplash from the blow of _that word. _"No Theodore. Nothing _quite _as drastic. I mean I'm literally _seeing _someone. As in someone that's _right here_. About 5'8, blonde, blue eyes, delicious ass?"

"You think my ass is delicious?" the blonde teased "Why Mr. Kinney would you like a bite to eat?" he said alluringly with a seductive wiggle.

Brian felt blood flow everywhere at once. He quietly willed his body to calm the fuck down. He then tried his best to ignore the tempting transparent twinkie.

Ted and Emmett looked around. Seeing no one near the bar in Babylon possessing an ass Brian would consider '_delicious', _returned their attention back to their friend.

Remembering Brian's escapades this morning, Ted spoke. "Seeing? You mean like an _imaginary _someone?" he whispered embarrassed, as much for himself for thinking it as for his friend for _believing_ it.

Brian just nodded in confirmation. "OK. How is that _not worse _than having a boyfriend?" the accountant asked dryly.

"What are you on?" two voices accused Brian in unison.

"Forget it." Brian said firmly and proceeded towards the dance floor.

"Wait." Emmett said kindly, gently pulling on Brian's shoulder. The man stopped and turned. "Delicious ass you say? Leave it to Brian Kinney to be haunted by a hottie."

Interpreting the genuine sincerity in Emmett's eyes, he leaned back against the bar.

After spending an ungodly amount of his valuable time attempting to explain the unexplainable; Brian ordered reinforcements, a round of shots.

"So, Gus can see him too?" Ted inquired.

"My aunt Lula always claimed to be psychic. She says kids and dogs have a heightened sixth sense." Emmett added thoughtfully.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him, "If Mel can see him, then I think you might be on to something."

The other two men laughed lightly, then Emmett straightened up and looked a Brian pointedly. "Look, this is a lot to take in, but we're your friends. So we'll help. Right Teddy?"

Ted took another shot, "Sure. We can be the homo ghostbusters." he said not bothering to hide his skepticism, as he toasted his empty glass to the air. Emmett shot him a scowl.

"You know, I think I have an idea!" Emmett exclaimed clapping his hands excitedly.

"This may be dangerous." Ted slurred dizzily, earning him another Honeycutt glower.

"Mysterious Marilyn." He explained simply.

"Uh," Brian began "The voodoo drag Queen from Woody's?" he finished, Ted's skepticism quickly becoming his own.

"Of course," Emmett replied humbly. "I'll arrange a meeting. I hear she's really got the gift." he looked at Brian for confirmation to start 'Operation voodoo Queen'.

Which he received with a curt nod and a "Why the hell not?"

Always sensible, Theodore offered to check all of New York's obituaries for the last year, and to put a call in to Carl Horvath to check on any accident/crime reports involving a victim matching Brian's, _friend_. He still wasn't exactly sure if he believed all of this nonsense, nevertheless Brian seemed to be taking the situation seriously, so he would as well.

* * *

A slender raven haired man wantonly approached Brian. The blonde watched as the stranger leaned in and whispered something in his ear, then guided him towards another room.

A symphony of moans, groans and grunts resonated in harmony with staggered breaths. There were men _everywhere_ doing _everything _with _everyone_. Not much of a voyeuristic junkie, he was none too thrilled to scan the room.

Fortunately, Brian was positioned against a wall near the entrance. The dark haired man was hungrily feasting on the brunette's nine inches. _'Fuck.' _The blonde exclaimed internally and licked his lips.

Brian was completely hung, completely hot, and making him _completely _horny.

Grateful for his elaborate imagination, he envisioned himself in the stranger's place. A plethora of emotions took turns delivering heavy blows to his heart._ Anger. Jealousy? Lust. Pain. Sadness. _Each punch more intense than the last.

'_What could he do?' _Not a goddamn thing.

With _Anger _delivering the coup de grâce, he strode towards Brian and his '_dinner guest'_.

* * *

Having spent all day with this blonde he couldn't touch, had had Brian trapped in a dense haze of sexual frustration. He felt the heavy fog of festering hormones smothering his lungs.

When 'Kangaroo Jack' had approached him, he hadn't had to think twice before following him into the backroom. Hell, he hadn't even heard the man's words. He did however note his Australian accent and felt a little disappointed that he wouldn't hear the accent with the man's mouth 'down under' in the land of Kinney.

No matter, the voice would only distract him. This man was only a vessel, the second substitute for his _real_ desire in two days. _'No. He wasn't going to let himself contemplate why, If possible, he would have already fucked this mysterious blonde multiple times.'_

Fast even by Kinney expert standards, Brian had himself sheathed, the trick lubed and ready for entry. This undoubtedly would be the best fuck of 'Kangaroo Jack's' lifetime. For Brian, it was simply masturbation with props. Said props including the man's ass in which he was currently burying his cock.

"This isn't helping me." he heard _that_ voice announce, each word stabbing his ears with shards of anger.

"Well, it's helping _me _Sunshine." he replied with no identifiable emotion.

"It's Shawn." he heard the ass say. _'In the future he would focus on picking up twinks that couldn't talk.'_

"Christ. Is he loud enough?" the blonde said while dramatically wiggling his fingers in his ear. "How is that _not _killing your hard on?" his eyes danced with wicked amusement.

Brian wanted to be annoyed (as was probably the man's intention) but he was fucking turned on.

Watching as the younger man leaned down within inches of the 'action', Brian's arousal heightened (if that was even possible, he wasn't sure that it was). Now, more than ever, he wished he could feel this man.

Having him so goddamn close to his cock, but unable to touch him had Brian concluding (regardless of religion) that he _did_ believe in the existence of HELL.

He heard his delicious delusion chuckle, then click his tongue. His blue eyes flashed upwards and caught his own.

"Well now , Mr. Kinney" he mused seductively "you certainly know how to fuck." He licked his lips.

Against his mind's orders to 'cease and desist' audible satisfaction, Brian groaned. Loudly. _'Holy shit. He wasn't going to be able to take much more of this.'_

The trick laughed appreciatively. Feeling generous, Brian remained silent. No need to crush the man by telling him the sounds had dick to do with his efforts.

"Yes, sir. I can only imagine how good you'd feel." his angel drawled.

Brian clenched his eyes tightly and pounded into the provided prop mercilessly. All the while, of course imaging it was his Sunshine. '_His? No. he didn't have time to contemplate claim. He had a job to do.'_

With his thrusts nearing record fucking speed, the man moaned. Brian tuned him out. Setting his focus only on the sounds of muttered approval and critique the blonde was emitting. _'Job complete.'_

"Let's go Casper." he told the blonde, pulling out and zipping up.

"It's Shawn." _'Christ, was he still talking?' _Brian just turned and walked away quickly.

Leaving Shane, Steve, what-ever-the-fuck, the trick formerly known as 'Kangaroo Jack', hurriedly trying to redress.


	8. Enlighten

"He's not here right now. I haven't seen him in a few hours." Brian told his friends and Woody's resident 'Rent-a-Psychic'.

He had just finished retelling Mysterious Marilyn everything he had said to Emmett and Ted the previous night. He had felt tremendous relief when all three listeners appeared to believe him wholeheartedly. _'At the very least, he would have some roommates in his padded cell.'_

Theodore had reported that all of the obituaries matching Brian's mystery man, resulted in a dead end. Brian wasn't exactly sure how that news had made him feel. On one hand, he was relieved and ridiculously optimistic. On the other, it left them no closer to the truth.

Ted had also informed Detective Horvath (foregoing certain details of the 'loony bin' variety), and he had been more than willing to check into it. Brian could only trust that between Carl's digging and Madame Voodoo's 'Magic Mojo', they would learn something even remotely helpful.

"Call for him." Marylin instructed.

"What?" Brian asked dryly "Are you serious? What the _fuck_ am I supposed to do? He's a ghost ('_I think'_) not a dog." He smiled in spite of himself, and turned up his dramatic flare.

He sighed heavily, "Here Boy! Come on Sunshine!" he added a whistle and a hand clap for good measure, then took a swig of his second beer. It was setting up to be a long fucking night.

* * *

"Sunshine!" he heard Brian's voice float towards him, but did not see his personal Adonis.

Observing his surroundings for the countless time today, he still couldn't believe the changes that had occurred _here._

The nightmare had all but vanished, leaving a near dreamlike world in it's place.

Though still lightly raining, the drops were crystal clear and delightfully warm. The sky wore a brilliant blue, hiding shyly behind clouds as pure as angel's wings. An almost heavenly light illuminated _everything_. Infinite shades of color kissed every inch.

"Sunshine." he heard the soft, but distinct echo of Brian's voice once more. A small brick building had materialized in front of him. He read the awning, '_Woody's_'. He ascended the steps and followed the most exquisite voice in the world (_both worlds_).

* * *

"He's here." Brian and Marilyn unanimously confirmed.

The blonde smiled widely. He was in a fucking fantastic mood. His world was brighter and so were his hopes. '_This was it. Answer time.'_

"You can see him?" Brian asked anxiously.

"No," the psychic replied disappointed "I'm sure I cannot hear him either, but I can _feel_ him. My, my he is _strong_. So strong in fact, It's almost as if…" she stopped.

"He's not dead." the 'ghost' finished for her. Brian repeated "as if he's not dead?"

Mysterious Marylin simply nodded as she began to unwrap a silken purple cloth, all four men peered inside. A deck of aged, colorful cards.

"Tarot." The psychic answered the unspoken question alive in three (four) pairs of eyes.

Momentarily forgetting they were in a very public setting, Brian did not feign disinterest. He was enthralled by and exceedingly interested in this 'reading'.

Three men and their 'spirit' watched as she spread the cards across the bar. She closed her eyes and let her hands hover over them. Emmett started to speak but was quickly hushed.

"Quiet please, I must focus." Marilyn commanded as her hand lifted a single card from the pile.

Eager eyes strained to see it. The picture was primarily blue, with two wolves howling at a silvery moon.

"La Lune. The Moon." the psychic whispered, then turned to greet impatient stares.

"It appears that your persistent spitfire is correct. He's most certainly _NOT_ dead."

"Curious-er and Curious-er." Emmett whispered.

"Well, son of a bitch." Ted added approvingly.

"I fucking told you!" the blonde screamed excitedly. Through laughter, "I'm not dead!" he yelled to _everyone in the goddamn universe_, though only Brian could hear him. "This is wonderful Brian! _Not_ dead!" his voice still loud enough to wake everyone who _was_.

A smile danced on Brian's lips witnessing this man's utter euphoria. He wasn't sure why, but just knowing Sunshine was happy brought about his own immense happiness. It was a feeling he hadn't often felt throughout his lifetime, he fucking liked it. Returning his attention back to the fortune teller, he said nothing. Exhaling sharply, he waited for her to continue.

"The moon is a primarily negative card. One of fear, illusion, darkness and unconscious sleep. It warns of falsehoods and hidden enemies. My dears, La Lune clearly signifies mental and emotional trials. Yes, I see medication, loss, and visions of violence." the reader finished.

Noting her audience was still quiet and staring at her in confusion, she decided to break it down.

"OK. Though this is not an exact science, I am fairly confident in this. Your invisible dreamboat here is indeed in a deep unconscious slumber." she clarified.

"You mean like a coma?" Ted inquired.

"I mean precisely that." Marilyn confirmed. "Seems he was a victim of an abrupt violence, shocking his body and mind to travel to separate places."

"What does that mean?" The blonde pleaded. Brain asked.

"Surely my lovelies, you've heard of Out of body experiences? Astral Projection?"

They all nodded, though a new voice entered the conversation.

Ben was at the bar ordering a drink, "Astral projection?" he asked inquisitively. "Tibetan Buddhists believe in what's called the 'bardo body', or soul. They believe it can leave the physical body while in a deep sleep, and can travel anywhere. This 'bardo body' can pass through physical materials because they are made from psychic matter." he concluded.

"Why, thank you professor. You get a gold star." Brian mused.

Ben rolled his eyes but smiled genuinely. "I'm just over there waiting for Michael." he gestured towards the corner and raised his glass to the men before returning to his table.

"Out of body? _Body! _You mean I really am somewhere really and truly _alive_?" the blonde was literally bouncing.

Smiling once again at the man's enthusiasm, Brian inquired "So, he is likely hurt somewhere?"

"Absolutely. I believe it fiercely." The psychic stated. "When you were telling me about the boy's 'dark place' earlier, Astral projection had crossed my mind. This confirms it, for me at least. You see, if someone, especially someone with a heightened psychic awareness, as I believe your boy has, suffers a traumatic event,"

"The violence." Emmett interjected simply.

Marilyn continued, "An unexpected trauma can induce an involuntary projection. He would have released his soul with a mind swirling in chaos and pain. Ultimately resulting in memory loss, which if he doesn't get connected back to his physical body soon, he may never recover; and his arrival into the astral plane."

"What's that?" multiple voices asked.

"It's the meeting ground of sorts for all astral souls. It's ever changing, as it is created through the power of individual thought."

"Ask her about_ them, _the faceless people." the 'soul' urged. Brian did.

"Ah, yes. Do not be frightened by them my boy." she said in no particular direction, then continued.

"Again, the suddenness of the attack sent you into the darkest depths of your subconscious. A place born solely from your fear and confusion. These _'people' _merely represent the people in your life that you are desperate to remember." she explained in a soothing tone.

The blonde felt a huge weight lifted from his ironically current weightless existence.

"A projected soul will often wander aimlessly. They are sometimes seen however. You wouldn't believe the number that people report as ghost sightings." she added almost to herself, as she turned over a second tarot card.

Brian's mind was reeling. _'Could it be true? Sunshine is really alive? He'll be able to touch him? To kiss him?'_

"This is all really possible?" he asked skeptically.

Mysterious Marilyn laughed lightly "Well, I think your little bombshell is proof positive. What? Would you rather I tell you you're insane?" she joked.

Brian didn't supply an answer, only pointed to the newly overturned card. It portrayed a young boy on a white horse basking in the sunlight.

"Le Soleil. The Sun." The reader said with a newfound giddiness in her voice.

"Christ! What's it meeeeeaaaann? Hurry up!" the impatient soul pleaded with dramatic desperation.

As if she heard him, the psychic spoke, "A very positive card indeed. Light shall emerge from eternal darkness. It promises new discoveries, clarity. Glory shall be gained from awakened energies. Yes, boys the Sun is certainly a bright triumph."

Emmett attempted interpretation, "So, he can still wake up? And you said clarity and discovery. Does that mean they're going to find out who he is? It does right?" he clapped cheerfully when the psychic smiled.

She began, "You told me that the 'dark place' has gotten brighter, kinder?" The blonde nodded, Brian mirrored the action.

"As I've said, the astral plane is made from thoughts and emotions. Am I right to assume that he is surrounded by soft light as well?" Brunette and blonde nodded in sync.

Marilyn smiled, "This is wonderful." she exclaimed.

'_What the fuck is wonderful about any of this?' _Brian growled mentally.

"That's an aura of desires, feelings, and will. It glows around souls who have connected with their rightful counterpart." she explained through a grin.

"His who?" Brian inquired, knowing damn well he was about to be printed smack dab in the middle of a fucking hallmark card.

"His _true love_." she boasted.

It was times like these Brian hated _always_ being right.

The blonde grew flushed, Emmett grew teary eyed, Brian grew nauseous.

"Brian, you can hear and see him because he is undeniably your true soul mate. Quite literally, born to be an absolute balance of one another. Your son can see him because he is your lineage, further proof." Marilyn explained.

Brian cringed, and regretted that second beer that was now threatening to return itself to the bar.

"Only a counterpart can provide enough strength for this man to merge the astral and physical planes. Each time he spent time with you, the more complete and safe he felt. Resulting in the restoration of order and chaos, darkness to light." she gestured her hands to mimic the tipping of scales.

The blonde now understood why he could simply will himself to Brian. His _'soul mate'_ (the word frosted his thoughts with a shiver of pleasure) was his doorway. As he had known from day one, Brian Kinney was the one and only man who could truly help him.

"Can she tell us my name?" he asked Brian with hopeful eyes.

Brian had heard the psychic's words, but his mind refused to process them. This soul mate business would have to be revisited later. _Or it wouldn't. _Right now he needed to focus on getting this blonde back where he belonged.

"Do you know his name?" Brian asked for him.

"No," Marilyn conceded "however, perhaps we can get it." she said bringing a 'Ouija' board into view.

"What is this wandering spirits' name?" she asked eyes closed, fingers lightly resting on the pointer.

The blonde visibly panicked. He looked frantically from the psychic, to the board to Brian.

"What am I supposed to do?" he practically cried. "Am I supposed to move it or something? I don't know my fucking name!" he tried to touch the pointer but instead fell through it completely. He let out a frustrated growl, at which Brian chuckled aloud.

His friends and Marilyn looked at him.

"What is humorous?" She asked.

"He can't answer what he doesn't know." Brian drawled amused. His smirk falling as he watched the pointer slide quickly to the letter 'T'.

Mysterious Marilyn smiled, "Do not be worried. We're asking the higher ups." she answered somewhat cryptically.

'_What the fuck?' _Blue eyes widened and danced with awe, confusion, and a tinge of fear. They watched as a beam of swirling light surrounded the psychic's hands, moving the pointer. _'He was rapidly evolving from _no one_ to _someone_.'_

'TAYLOR.' Marilyn announced.

Brian looked at the blonde, who was fervently shaking head from side to side. 'Taylor' resonated no familiarity. Though he didn't yet connect with the name, he remained optimistic. At least they had a name, they had clues, they had proof, he was _alive._


	9. Beautiful

"So, you're a _glorified sleepwalker_ Sunshine." Brian teased as he opened the door to the loft. His mind couldn't decipher his jumbled thoughts.

He was elated, that perhaps this man was really out there somewhere. He was also terrified of actually finding him, facing him, _feeling _him.

'_Why the fuck? Brian Kinney didn't do fear. No. This man was nothing to him but a pain in his ass since first glance. He couldn't wait to get this whole ordeal over with. Yes. Life would eventually proceed as normal.'_

"Can you believe it Brian?" the blonde beamed, his smile making the brunette's stomach perform flips he couldn't ignore.

It had been confirmed (at least by a source reliable enough for him) that he _wasn't_ dead. Somewhere he was waiting to awaken. Brian was quite literally the man of his waking dreams. He was the dream he wanted to continue to have even after he opened his eyes.

"I'd believe just about anything these days Taylor." he drawled the name sexily. 'Smiley' swooned.

While Brian ate, showered and called Cynthia, 'Taylor' perched himself in front of the window.

He watched as thunder and lightening danced across the sky with graceful steps. Performing for an audience of himself, rain drops, and the stars.

Cynthia had been pissed when Brian had told her that he needed arrangements for an immediate trip to NYC. He opted not to tell her the real reason, and offered her a generic 'business meeting' excuse. Mostly, she was only irritated because he had postponed the art position interviews, _yet again._

"Flight leaves at nine a.m on the dot. Destination? Your identity, and _hopefully_ your tight little ass in the flesh." Brian's voice pulled the blonde's attention from the show in the sky.

"Do you think we'll really find me?" he asked still looking out the window.

Brian paused for a moment and studied the other man. Although he wasn't facing him, Brian could interpret his thoughts. His body language clearly stated '_longing_'. Longing for answers, longing for memories, longing for _life_.

For the first time since meeting him, he placed himself in the blonde's position. An overwhelming ribbon of compassion wrapped tightly around his heart. This man was _strong_. Stronger and more courageous than Brian knew he himself could ever be.

"We will. I promise." he state firmly and _meant it. _

He found himself growing slightly irritated that the man still had not looked at him.

"What could be so interesting out there? You've already got the best view in Pittsburgh right here." he said through a grin as he dropped his towel, and poured his nude body onto the bed.

"I can remember the smell of the air after the rain." he told the brunette softly. "At least, I remember that I love it. (_He knew it was nothing like the scent of despair the awful black rain had exuded_) It's as if the entire world is washed clean. Freed of toxic situations, broken hearts, bad moods, misunderstandings, you know? A fresh start. A blank canvas of life, awaiting _we_, the artists, to paint it as we see fit." he rambled as much to himself as to Brian.

"That's very poetic Sunshine," Brian said only half joking and turned off the majority of the bedroom's lights "but I have to get my beauty rest."

The blonde turned (and had his lungs possessed air) would have been rendered _breathless_.

It was no secret that the elusive Brian Kinney was a sexy motherfucker. Even so, seeing him unexpectedly naked (a fact scientifically proven by the majority of the Pittsburgh male population) caused certain body parts (transparent or not) to react in certain ways. Certain overheated, borderline euphoric/torturous ways.

Crystal blue deliciously devoured every inch of exposed tanned skin. _'Fuck. He really was perfect.' _Every line of the brunette's body called out to him. An unfounded yet primal urge to draw this man enveloped the blonde. His fingers literally itched to immortalize this GOD in print. _'He _had_ to be an artist.'_

He licked his lips and spoke (or at least he tried to), "You really are beautiful." he barely managed to whisper.

'_Beautiful?' _Brian was hit full force by the sincerity in Taylor's voice. It sent him shivers he shouldn't be having in places he wasn't aware of. He was positively blindsided and dumbfounded. Brian was used to, and quite enjoyed being called _sexy_, _gorgeous_, _fuckable_, and _hot_ one hundred times a day.

However, _'Beautiful' _was not a favorite among his vocabulary. It was lesbionic in nature and just too goddamn personal. _'So, why had _that_ word, spoken from _those _lips left him wanting to hear it again?'_

Somehow hovering on the bed, the young man stretched out, bringing himself as close to Brian as possible. He felt hollow. Figuratively and literally. All he wanted was to feel his soul mate's touch. '_Soon._' he told himself.

"So," he began "you're my truuue looove." he sang the words through blinding brightness.

Brian stifled an involuntary chuckle and groaned instead. "Seriously. Don't start with that shit Sunshine." he warned.

"I know, I know. Love doesn't exist. It's for breeders, blah blah blah." he said playfully with very imaginative hand gestures.

"Are you _mocking_ me Taylor?" the brunette feigned hurt.

"You're goddamn right I am," he paused before adding "my looove."

He was very much enjoying the discomfort the dreaded _'L-word' _was causing the brunette. Brian Kinney may not believe in fate, and love but he sure as hell did. He was already irrevocably, undeniably prepared to give his heart (once he'd found it) to this man.

"You can't fool me. I'm on to you." he declared proudly.

The Ad executive raised an eyebrow.

"You can say love's not real, that you're incapable of it, that is doesn't exist; but you'd be lying." he announced firmly.

"Oh really?" Brian asked while not particularly wishing to be answered.

"Oh yes really. I've seen you with Gus, with your friends. There is definitely love there Kinney. Yup, it's there, _existing_ the fuck away!" he smiled.

He couldn't understand Brian's reservations about something so wonderfully intoxicating. He couldn't remember if he had ever been in love before, but he sure as hell missed it just the same.

He looked up and melded blue to hazel.

Brian felt an insatiable urge to sail forever in the ocean of those eyes.

"I wish I could touch you." the blonde whispered.

Brian's heart knocked urgently against his chest. He didn't speak, in fear of saying something he'd hate himself for later. Perhaps 'I wish you could too' or 'I've never wanted anything more'. _'Christ. Yes. It was in his ego's best interest for any and all words to go unspoken. His inner lesbian had the right to remain fucking silent.'_

'_Knock. Knock. Knock.' _He glanced instinctively down at his bare chest; in a solid effort to ensure that his heart's antics were not visible from the outside. He was more than half convinced that it may actually succeed in knocking down the walls he had invested so many years in constructing.

'_He needed to get a fucking grip.'_

Brian watched in silence, somewhat awe-stricken, as the glowing man brought his hand to his chest. He inhaled deeply and willed himself not to moan or sigh or some other _'first date jitters' _bullshit reaction. He felt himself tremble. '_Fucking hell. Apparently Brian-fucking-Kinney _(occasionally) does_ nervous.'_

His gaze followed pale fingers as they attempted to trace the contours of his abs. Though not _warmth_, not _flesh_, he did _fee_l it.

A brisk, yet delicate coolness accompanied by an almost electrifying tingle. This icy touch sent a contradictory heat wave through Brian's veins, melting away his coherence.

He allowed himself one final look into the bluest blue, before letting his eyelids fall.

'_Knock. Knock. KnockKnockKnockKnockKnock.'_…and the walls came tumbling down.


	10. Memory

His head was fucking pounding. He'd been forced to endure the inescapable ramblings of the very _loud _woman seated infront of him on the plane. Her voice never pausing on the entire hour long flight. She'd even continued telling him tales of her ankle biters long after he'd pretended to be asleep. Apparently, the breeder bitch just really enjoyed the sound of her own voice. _'Huh. There was someone even more narcissistic than Brian Kinney.' _Regardless, he couldn't have been more ecstatic when they'd finally landed.

With his one carry on bag in tow, he pushed his way quickly through the crowd. He had begun to rummage through his bag when he stopped and sighed. He hadn't been allowed to bring his own _stash_ aboard the plane. _'Fuck.' _His head was screaming louder than Gus when he was throwing a tantrum '_or Mikey for that matter_'. He purchased some Tylenol and a bottle of water from the nearest kiosk, then proceeded towards the exit.

His mind drifted to Taylor, who he hadn't yet seen this morning. _'OK. Maybe for a fleeting, damn near non existent shard of a second, he _missed _him.'_

Outside, he spotted the blonde almost immediately and his pulse quickened. _'From the fucking headache, _of course_.'_

Observing the 'dreaming' man's antics, Brian was unsuccessful in suppressing a grin. In a line of several chauffeurs holding up signs for expected fliers, there was Taylor, '_holding_' his own invisible sign. He wore an expression of business like seriousness, as he pretended to scan the crowd. His blue eyes danced as Brian approached him.

"I'm assuming," Brian started, (long passed the worry of being heard conversing with himself) "that this sign (he pointed to the small hands playing charades) is for me? For I can't see it, and I seem to have a talent for attracting the invisible." he stated dryly, then smiled lightly.

The 'chauffeur' did not break his serious act, he directed his eyes firmly on the Executive's. "Are you Mr. Kinney?" he inquired.

"Isn't that what your '_sign' _says?" the brunette drawled amused.

"Right this way Mr. Kinney." he turned with a swift click of his heels. Brian followed him to the curb of awaiting cabs.

Once seated in the nearest available, the blonde released the sun from his lips. "The sign said Soul mate." he said simply.

Brian rolled his eyes and instructed the driver to take them to 'The Cock', back to square one.

* * *

Leaning against the building, Brian was looking directly at the spot in which he'd first lain hazel on blue. He remembered (though hazily) how the sight had caused his breath to catch in his throat.

"So, here we are," the memory spoke, "the beginning of our fucked up fairytale. This very spot (he bounced and spun around) is where I first _took your breath away_." he further emphasized his words with a dramatic batting of his eyelashes.

Brian had an embarrassing moment of panic, thinking that the other man could read his mind. He didn't confirm that he had done exactly _that_ that night. Instead he feigned irritation.

"Well? Do you recognize anything? Getting any tingly shivers (he moved his fingers playfully) through that hot little body of yours?" he asked.

The hot little body sighed. "No." _'Goddamn it. He had really expected returning here to trigger something_, anything_.' _"Nothing." he whispered. _'He was back to a _nobody_ again.'_

Sadness invaded his eyes, an action not unnoticed by his travel companion. The brunette found himself suddenly attacked by his own bought of sadness._ 'This trip was his only feasible plan. It had to work. Didn't it?'_

"Let's keep walking. Hopefully something will stand out." Brian persuaded, trying his best to sound optimistic.

They walked in silence for several minutes, until the blonde surprised Brian with an unexpectedly fucking fantastic singing voice.

"He's a real nowhere man sitting in a nowhere land making all his nowhere plans for nobooooody." he sang loudly.

"Uh, Broadways' back that way Sunshine." Brian smiled, and gestured behind them.

"It's the Beatles Kinney. Don't you know the Beatles? Rubber soul? The Yellow Submarine?" he sighed. "Perhaps we're not soul mates after all." he produced a very unconvincing faux pout.

Brian wasn't sure why he felt compelled to keep secret from this man that not only did he know the song _and_ the movie but he also knew the character's name was Jeremy and he lived in the goddamn sea of nothingness.

"That's the most sensible thing you've said all day Taylor." he said, earning him the most adorable scowl he'd ever witnessed.

Brian Kinney had received his share of dirty looks in his lifetime, (not that he gave a shit) but something about making this particular blonde angry, sent his cock into overdrive.

"This is aggravating as fuck!" the younger man declared "Why can I remember songs, scents, and speech, but I can't remember my own goddamn name?" he tasted defeat on the surface of his tongue.

Brian wasn't used to dealing with his own feelings, let alone someone else's. He had no idea what to say. He just motioned forward for them to continue walking, and offered an awkward smile.

Said smile was ripped from his face when he heard the blonde cry out. Though he hadn't spoken words, the worry and fear behind the sounds were unmistakable. He rushed towards him.

"What is it? Sunshine, what's wrong?" he couldn't hide the stress in his own voice.

* * *

The disturbing sensation came without warning. A fierce sting penetrated his mind. _'Fuck you faggot' _The hateful words had not been spoken aloud, he could only assume they were a _memory_.

A sharp phantom pain attacked his head. He noted with relief, that the pain too was only a memory, an echo of his life. As an intense pressure threatened to crush him from within, he distinctly heard uproarious thunder and heavy rain crashing to concrete.

He took a deep breathe and glanced towards the sky. Although darkened clouds were teasing the city, it was not yet raining.

"What is it? Sunshine, what's wrong?" with that velvet voice came reassurance. The blonde shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I'm OK." he promised a very concerned looking brunette.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, uh, I think, I think I had a memory." he explained softly as he took in their current surroundings.

"What did you reme-" Brian's words were cut off by a pale slender hand.

"I know this." the blonde whispered barely audible.

They were standing at the bottom of a staircase leading up to an apartment building. _'Why was this so achingly familiar?' _Realization folded into his thoughts.

"This is the building I first saw in my 'dark place'!" he exclaimed, turning to Brian with a hope filled heart. "I think I was here. You know before," he let his voice trail off.

Brian was filled with similar hope. "Well, let's see here Sunshine. Allow me to _wow_ you with my detective skills." he excitedly ascended the steps and began scanning the names listed next to the door buzzers.

Blue eyes scanned along, "Reading. _Wow._ That's _some_ detective work." he teased flatly. Brian ignored him.

"J. Taylor!" both voices announced.

Brian confidently strode forward to go inside. Pulling with more force than necessary, his arm jerked harshly as it met a _very_ locked door.

The transparent 'J. Taylor' walked _through_ the obstacle, turned to face Brian through the window and smiled. "So, Dick Tracy. How do _you_ get in?"

* * *

'_Third times' a charm and all that.' _The first tenant had not been home. The second tenant had not been nice. The third tenant had not been able to let Brian into the building fast enough.

The short, lean man about twenty one, with perfectly toned muscles and the most unique shade of green eyes currently bouncing down the foyer steps, ranged fairly high on both blonde and brunette's fuckable scale.

"Hey there!" he beamed as he pulled the door open and welcomed Brian inside. "I'm Sam, a friend of Justin's. You said he's been staying with you? I was wondering where he's been." Looking at the sex God before him, Sam quickly understood why Justin had not been answering his phone. '_What a delicious distraction'_

"Justin!" Justin screeched in approval of his newfound identity, "Justin Taylor." he repeated "Yeah, that sounds _hot_." he smirked and shook his head in self agreement.

Brian smiled at both men, then explained "Yeah, he's been crashing with me for the past few days. He sent me here to pick up some of his things." Which was _true. _The man _had _been crashing his life, and so what if the aforementioned '_things_' happened to include his identity, his memories, and his body. _'Potato. Pot-ah-to.'_

"Cool." Sam said simply "Let's go on up, I've got the spare key to his place."

Brian felt an impulsive pang of, No. Nothing. Nevermind. Brian-fucking-Kinney doesn't do _jealous_.

"Key?" the blonde asked, then seductively (and quite purposefully) added "Mmm. I wonder just how _close_ of friends me and Sammy boy here were?" he shot Brian a wink.

Brian felt an impulsive pang of, no. Fuck. OK. Maybe he _does._

"So, how did you and Justin meet?" Sam glanced to Brian behind him on the staircase. "Were you a customer of his?"

'_Customer?' _Brian thought. "Customer?" Justin spoke.

"Uh, Oh. Yeah, yes. I sure was." Brian fumbled.

Sam smiled and continued up the stairs still talking. "Yeah, he's very talented with his hands. The things he can do (he whistled) definitely takes some skill."

Brian cocked an eyebrow at the blonde whose face was currently falling to the ground.

"Great. What? So I was a hustler?" he inquired flatly.

Brian chuckled and silently hoped that wasn't the case. He couldn't stop himself from asking Sam, "Were you a customer too?"

"Oh sure, I guess. Only, you know how sweet Justin is. He knew I was low on cash so he gave me one of his 'masterpieces' free of charge." Sam answered.

"_Fabulous_. I'm cheap too." Justin drawled dryly.

Sam continued, "He's quickly becoming somewhat of a local legend around here. Just a few weeks ago a guy came all the way from Maryland just for his work." he smiled.

"Well, hell. At least I'm the _BEST_." Sunshine smirked smugly, causing Brian's cock to jump in anticipation of proving that theory.

Brian slid his tongue to the inside of his cheek and met Justin's eyes, "With the talents he provides, I wouldn't be surprised if they '_erect_' a museum in his honor." Sam nodded in agreement. The blonde melted into a puddle of blush.

"Here we are." The green eyed man announced, handing Brian the key and making his exit.

"Here we are." Brian repeated looking thoughtfully at the pale face next to him, who was finally going to get some much needed answers.

Justin paused for a moment when he felt an unexpected wave of nerves rush over him. He was thinking too many thoughts and nothing at all. He sighed heavily and met Brian's eyes.

"After you, Detective Hot stuff." he said as they both crossed the threshold of the very small apartment of one Justin Taylor, 'possible hustler extraordinaire'.


	11. Somewhere

Once inside, it was more than a lot obvious that Mr. Justin Taylor was an artist, and a _'fucking phenomenal' _one if Brian was to describe it. Dozens of canvases both unborn and full of life, lived dominantly in the small space. Colorful paints, pastels, pencils, brushes, drop clothes, easels, palettes, erasers and sketch books littered every surface.

The smell of paint and promise lingered in the air.

"I'd say it's safe to bet you _weren't_ an interior designer Sunshine." Brian said as he observed the (no doubt) over priced and significantly under furnished apartment. "Either that, or you've _really_ got the 'Starving artist in New York' motif down." he finished, tracing his hands along the peeling wallpaper.

Recalling his desire to draw Brian previously, Justin was pleased that he had been correct with his guess of artist. Looking at his work, he found himself feeling proud of his talent. He'd guessed that had he remembered actually painting them, he would now see only the flaws.

"Disappointed you're not a hooker for hire?" Brian asked through a grin. "Aw, here you go. You were amazing!" he joked, taking a dollar from his wallet and placing it on one of the makeshift bedside tables. It appeared to have been constructed from old crates.

The blonde just rolled his eyes, then set them on the far right corner of the living room. Nearly one dozen paintings hung on the wall, surrounded by several sketches. They were just as good as the others, however they were unique in their own right.

Each one portrayed the _exact same _scene. Though constructed from different materials and colors, there was no mistaking that the place on each surface was indeed identical to it's neighbor's.

It was an old fashioned mansion, constructed of multicolored and textured stone. Ivy dressed it's exterior, climbing to the heavens. Surrounding it's antiqued cast iron gates was an array of colorful flowers that were almost too beautiful for words. The flawless blue sky provided the perfect backdrop for a rainbow so vivid it practically lit up the very room in which they stood observing.

"It's beautiful." the artist whispered running his fingertips gingerly through the canvas.

"Do you recognize it?" Brian asked wonderingly.

"No. I must have been there before though. I mean, I definitely enjoyed painting it. Like everything else, I don't remember." he sighed, whitewashing his pride.

Directly below the paintings, a flimsy metal desk stood lost against the wall. Both men observed the contents.

Immediately Brian's eyes were drawn to one of three framed photos. It featured Justin and a younger girl (presumably his little sister). What had attracted the brunette to this photo above the two others, was Justin's wardrobe.

Unlike the bulky coat and 'neck stealing' scarf he'd been in since they'd _met_, he was at the beach in nothing but swim trunks. His eyes eagerly feasted on the smoothness of his body. Surprising muscles held drips of water as the sun's rays illuminated his wet locks.

His mind sent him an image of the blonde dripping wet, playfully enjoying the waves. _'He'd have to save that image for later.'_

"You think she's my sister? How can I _not remember _having a sister?" the blonde groaned softly. Brian didn't respond. "Here, look at all of these papers." he pointed his pale fingers towards a pile of mail he himself couldn't touch. _'So fucking irritating.'_

Long golden fingers avidly ruffled endless papers, nothing striking either man as being of earth shattering importance. Brian moved to pick up the second stack when the blonde's cheerful fucking glee interrupted him.

"Look! Here, this one." he was bouncing on the pads of his feet, which Brian had to admit was goddamn adorable.

"Alright there hoppy, don't get your panties in a twist." he smiled.

"It's safe. I'm going commando today. Al naturale." the blonde replied teasingly wiggling his delicate hips, very much enjoying the lustful darkening of hazel irises.

Brian cleared his throat but did not so easily clear his naughty and delicious thoughts.

His eyes scanned the papers in the pile that 'hoppy' had indicated...

HUNAN DELIGHT

Egg roll(2)….$1.00

Not important. '_But he _was_ fucking hungry.'_

You are cordially invited to 'Soho Rising Star Showcase':

Featured Artists: Justin Taylor-Elisa French-Vincent Jameson

52nd & Regal Ave. The Twenty Second day of March…..

Brian lifted his head, "You had a show a few nights ago. The 22nd, that was the first night I saw you." he told the blonde attempting a smile, but was unable to mask his sympathy.

Justin was curious about his exhibit, "Maybe that's where I was coming from? I remember I was on my way into my building." he offered.

Making a mental note to check into the show, Brian continued to sort through the assortment of loose papers.

Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts-Alumni/ Post Grad TaylorJ2462187

Student Transcript Request Form

Brian noted a listed address in the Pitts, a residential neighborhood not too far from Liberty Ave. He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

"Sunshine." he met anxious blue eyes, "You went to Art school in _Pittsburgh_." Brian informed him with a little more excitement in his voice than he had planned.

'_How had this beautiful gay man lived in his city and he hadn't fucked him?' _He almost voiced that unbelievable wonder when a small white square fell from between the envelopes he held.

KINNETIK

Brian Kinney

Advertising CEO….

"What the fuck?" he all but whispered. He searched his memory avidly, he was _positive _he would remember if he'd have met this blonde before.

"It's my business card." he explained to a confused expression currently worn by said blonde.

"Huh." was all he said.

Instinctively Brian turned the card over in his hands. _'OK. This shit keeps getting weirder.'_

Scrawled in a handwriting he knew well, '_Lindsay Peterson' _followed by her most recent cell number. The brunette knew she had only had this number for a few months, so Justin had to have seen her in person _very_ recently.

Without a moment's hesitation he dialed her number.

"Brian. Hey, I haven't seen you in a few days. Gus was just talking about you yesterday. He told me you have a new _imaginary friend_." she teased, Brian cut her off abruptly.

"Listen Lindz, do you know a Justin Taylor?" he asked trying his best not to berate her for information.

He could hear her smile. "Ah, yes the talented Mr. Taylor. I take it he took me up on the suggestion to apply at Kinnetik? Am I listed as his reference?" she asked simply, providing the brunette with a much needed out from trying to explain this call.

"Oh. Yes, that's why I'm calling. So, what do you know about him?"

"Well, I have no idea if he's single." she joked then continued "He graduated from PIFA last spring, he did a small showing at the GLC and was offered an exhibit in New York. He's been living there for about 4 months, subletting a small apartment until the show. Which was last week by the way, he called me during and said it was going great." she finished

_'OK. So Justin _had_ made the show'_

"So, since he's wanting a job with Kinnetik, does this mean he's moving back to PA?" a shiver of delicious excitement found it's way to Brian's veins. He couldn't help but imagine working with this man every day. '_Fucking this man in his office, Ted's office, in the art room, in the break room, hell, in the supply closet, against the water cooler... Focus Kinney.'_ he shook the images away as he tried to get his half hard cock to settle by sheer will power. It didn't work.

"He's moving back in with his mom and his sister, they live near Baker's Field. Now, if that's all I really do have to get back to work, as should you Mr. Executive." she lectured.

He mumbled a quick somewhat illegible version of _'thanks dear, love you.' _and hung up. Baker's Field. He recalled the matching address on the transcript and felt they were _finally_ getting somewhere.

This man's mother would most certainly know where his body was. With more giddiness than he'd like to admit, he retold Lindsay's conversation to Justin and hailed a cab to the Airport.

* * *

Exiting the cab, Brian was not surprised to see the blonde already on the sidewalk. Their search was leading them back to Pittsburgh, _again._

Feeling not unlike a ping pong ball, he really wasn't looking forward to another hour on a cramped airplane. Though, 'Kinney ass' only flew first class, he'd much prefer Justin's current method of transportation.

"Come on Tinkerbelle," he wiggled a finger, "Sprinkle me with pixie dust or whatever-the-fuck. Zap us home." he finished, boredom seeping into his voice.

The other man arched an eyebrow, rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

"What the hell kind of faerie are you?" The brunette asked annoyed.

_That smile _could rival the lights of the landing strip. The blonde pretended to ponder for a moment, then replied "The kind that likes dick."

'_Fuck. He was now ridiculously hard. So, yeah, really not anticipating the next hour flight.' _"Well, I've got a nine inch magic wand you can try." Brian drawled before proceeding to his terminal _as fast as fucking possible._

Leaving both men, more eager than ever to find Justin's viable, touchable, _fuckable_ ass.


	12. Empty

Brian awakened feeling better than he had in a long time. So good in fact that he didn't even queen out regarding the fact that the blonde was his first waking thought. His own '_Day starting Sunrise' _so to speak.

"Justin?" he called out stretching, not yet ready to leave the warmth of his bed. _'It was incredible to finally have a name for the previously unknown figment of perfection._'

Last night he had arrived mentally exhausted and jet lagged. He didn't quite remember falling into such a deep sleep, as the light drool on his pillow currently indicated.

A sudden unadulterated amount of dread flooded his mind. He hadn't seen the blonde since the airport in New York.

"Justin?" he called again louder, as he began to search every inch of the loft.

'_No Sunshine.'_

He tried desperately to push away the panic, instead only managing to push it down into his toes, where it ultimately remained.

With his thoughts swirling in worry and confusion he showered, dressed and drove to Kinnetik seemingly on autopilot.

* * *

Brian wasn't sure how long he had been walking back and forth in this same spot.

After staring blankly at the '_Lindon's Leather' _campaign for one million minutes he'd decided he wasn't going to get anywhere with it. At about two o'clock he had left Ted and Cynthia without a goodbye. '_He had no available space in his mind to feel bad about that.'_

Glancing at the clock he saw that it was nearly seven, so he could only guess he'd been pacing for five hours. He was frantically trying his best to walk into the future, into a time where he wasn't thinking about the absence of Justin Taylor_. _

'_He should be glad. Finally, all of this crazy bullshit was no longer his problem.' _He was genuinely perplexed as to why he cared so much. _'Why did he fucking care at all?'_

As he attempted to pace a hole in the floor to match the hole he felt in his _soul _(he shuddered). _"OK. so maybe, perhaps, for lack of a better explanation there was something to this whole soul mate thing. He definitely felt like half of himself was missing. Christ. He'd have to be sure to _never _think that again.'_

Brian was confused by the emptiness in the loft. It felt vast and depressing. _'His personal fortress of despair'_, his own _'dark place'_.

Without Justin's laughter to break the silence, he was forced to listen to his own thoughts. Not one of his favorite activities. He _acts. _He does not _think_.

'_What if I never see that smile again? What if he's really gone this time?' _his insides all but turned to ice. He mentally cursed all of these fucking (he winced) _feelings_ that had no business existing.

'_Brian Kinney feeling for someone other than himself? Yes. This will truly be the joke that no one gets.'_

He scrolled through the archives of his memory, focusing on the unnecessary hours of his childhood in which he'd listened to St. Joan preach about heaven and hell.

'_Homosexuality is a sin. An abomination. The devil shall cast the sinner to hell. He shall not be forgiven. It's a filthy, disgusting act of depravity.' _her hateful words echoed in his mind.

A sudden heated pain seared through him, mimicking the fiery pits of the underworld.

Unbelievably the ice of anxiety remained.

'_No. Joan was full of shit. Justin was _nothing_ if not an angel. If he was (he let himself only _briefly _consider the notion) _dead_ then he was certainly _not_ among sinners. If there a was loophole in that bible of hers, the blonde would find it.'_

The air grew colder as it raced to match the coolness within him. Warmth escaped with the setting sun, as Brian cursed it's nerve to have risen in the first place._ 'How dare the world get to have the sunlight when he himself was Sunshine-less.'_

Abandoning all hope of getting any work done, and just flat out fucking tired of _feeling_, he grabbed his coat. He needed a drink, or two. Or ten.

* * *

Brian was grateful that his friends were creatures of the night. At only twenty five after seven he'd hoped he wouldn't run into anyone he knew at Woody's. Thankfully, queers were also creatures of habit.

Without the concern of being confronted with questions he didn't want to answer from people he didn't want to talk to, he allowed himself to relax. The Voodoo Queen was seated in her usual spot. He took the empty stool next to her and ordered a double whiskey, neat.

"Ah, the soul mate." She said compassionately.

Brian aimed for a thoughtful smile. He missed.

"I'm sensing your sadness." she said turning to face him.

"No shit. Did that crystal ball of yours tell you that?" he grumbled.

Marilyn only smiled. "No. The liquor and your aura of self pity did. Not to mention the mere fact that Brian Kinney is drinking alone while perfectly fuckable men roam the streets."

This time the brunette _did_ manage a smile.

Marilyn continued, "You won't find your answers at the bottom of a glass honey." she sighed "Unless you're reading tea leaves." she added almost as an after thought.

"He's not here anymore." Brian offered knowing she would know to whom he was referring. "We went to New York, you were right about his name. It's Justin Taylor."

"Oh. Well, what happened?" she tried to gauge his emotion but was unsuccessful.

He took several moments to explain everything they had discovered about his invisible friend, and how he had awakened this morning alone. He had begrudgingly included his fears about the afterlife and _may _have (sometime between his third and fourth drink) said something about '_missing him' _or '_wanting him'_, what-ever-the-fuck. He was drunk off of his ass, therefore any and all declarations would be inadmissible in court.

"Is he dead?" a very inebriated Brian inquired for the hundredth time.

"Of that I cannot know." The psychic responded for the hundredth time.

"My dear, I can no longer feel his presence, but do not be discouraged. You are his counterpart. You tell me. Whether you believe in my ability or not, it is you and you alone who can know the condition of his soul."

Brian tried his best to contemplate her words. The churning sea of liquor his brain was presently swimming in, made it tricky.

'_He chose to believe that Justin was still alive.' _

None too quietly (or gracefully in terms of arm movements that knocked his glass to the floor), he pledged to find the blonde.

They had had plans to visit the artist's mother's house today. '_Fuck it. He was determined.' _He ordered some fries to soak up the alcohol flooding his body. He clumsily removed the folded paper from his pocket and reread the address. As soon as he was sobered a bit, he was fucking going ahead as planned.


	13. Return

The man's words danced and twirled around her. Dizzily, she attempted to follow their lead.

Jennifer Taylor had been about to go to bed when this stranger began banging on her door._ 'When someone comes to your home at quarter till eleven at night, it's _never_ to tell you you've won the lottery.' _As proved to be the case tonight.

"I'm seeing your son." the man had told her. At first she had been happy that Justin had finally found someone (despite the obvious age difference).

This Brian Kinney had appeared to genuinely care for her son, in his eyes at least. Once he had continued however, she hadn't been as convinced.

The situation he had explained to her sounded worthy of that 'Supernatural' show Molly watched. She noted the unmistakable scent of lingering alcohol._ 'He had to be drunk to actually believe the things he was describing.' _she concluded.

"Look, Mr. Kinney."

"Brian." he interjected.

"Brian. I just talked to Justin a couple of days ago." Even as the words spilled out, her mind began to dispute them. In fact, she couldn't remember exactly when she had last talked to him. _'A day? Two? A week? Two?' _Immediately she dialed his number on her cell. It went straight to voice mail.

Heavy drops of panic crashed down like rain, threatening to soak her to the bone.

She let herself think about something she hadn't in a long time. Justin and Molly had always claimed to have some sort of …_abilities_. _'Could this man's claims actually be founded?' _Blood worriedly drained from her face.

"I just talked to him, _saw _him, yesterday," Brian told her "but never since." he added in a whisper.

"Yesterday?" she inquired. _'She needed to know. She didn't want to know.'_

He nodded. "I honestly was hoping that you would know if he was…" he didn't need to say the word '_dead_' for her to understand.

The brunette started to meet her eyes, but quickly looked at the ground. Though, not before she saw the gleaming wetness present on their surface.

That damn storm of panic was crashing down with biblical flood intensity.

"I have a cop friend of mine looking into it." he said trying to reassure her. He was instead, unconvinced and less assured than ever. '_His mother knew no more than he did.'_

Against his inner protest, he gave into fear and accepted defeat. Brian didn't have time to contemplate the warmth of the tears suddenly trespassing on his cheeks, before he felt the woman's arms embrace him.

He stiffened, then not exactly hating the foreign feeling of '_motherly love'_, allowed himself to hug her back.

* * *

He'd lost track of time. Days, weeks, years were all the same to him. The last thing he remembered was watching Brian's delicious form receding at the airport. Upon willing himself to the loft, an intense pull had gripped him tight. Then he was here, a place where heaven and hell coexisted.

The moment he breathed in the obnoxious medical scents and _felt _his lungs expand, he logically deduced his environment. The hospital. At first, his arrival back into his body had elated him. However, it was a short lived victory as he'd come to learn when he'd tried to open his eyes.

Endless attempts to awaken had filled him with frustration and hollowed hopes. '_What a sick fucking joke.'_

Over his time of never ending thoughts, he'd come to decide that he must've been transported back to his body due to the close proximity. This hospital was in New York, he was positive.

Darkness loomed above him, embracing him against his will. As he felt tears build in his ever closed eyes, his mind drifted to _him._

'_Was he looking for him? Missing him? Christ. He hoped so.'_

Trying one last time to arise from his frightful slumber, he finally conceded. He lain still, defeated, and utterly useless.

* * *

Brian sat in his car feeling more hopeless than ever before. The tightness in his chest strangled his breath and his heart mercilessly.

"Where are you Sunshine?" he barely managed to whisper before a knock on the driver's window startled him.

"Hey." said the pretty girl Brian recognized from the picture with her brother.

* * *

"Where are you Sunshine?" the echoed voice of his savior pulled him from his personal despair.

An unbounded hurricane of warmth whirled within him. With a force too strong to fight, he allowed the wind to consume him. The internal storm settled, landing him in front a house he did not recognize, and a beautiful brunette that he did.

* * *

Brian had been in the middle of exiting the car in order to speak with this young lady when suddenly she shrieked, "Justin!"

'_Justin.' _The brunette had never liked a single word more.

His head spun around without consenting the rest of his body; he fumbled but managed to remain upright. Only to meet blue eyes that made his knees weaken, causing him to virtually fall once more. _He_ was standing directly in front of him.

Brian watched as Molly tried to hug her brother tightly, then watched her expression as the above activity was a 'no go'.

"What the hell?" the teenager gaped open mouthed.

Her brother, '_her goddamn adorable brother' _Brian thought, before thinking _'he shouldn't be thinking the word '_adorable_' and rewrote it to '_hot'_.' _smiled at her brightly.

Justin wished he could remember this girl. A sharpened sadness stabbed his heart.

"That's a long story sis." he said shyly, worried about his sister's reaction. The girl just shook her head as if trying jerk herself awake and smiled.

"I dreamed that you were coming. Don't worry I'll be hugging you _for real_ soon." she stated simply. She blew him a kiss a retreated into the house as if she _hadn't _just confronted her brother's transparent projection.

'_And here Brian thought _he_ was open minded.'_

"I missed you." Justin told his bronzed God.

He was unsuccessful in determining a point of origin of the plethora of emotions rapidly brewing within him. Those words embraced Brian _everywhere_.

So many questions rushed to the tip of his tongue, but all stubbornly refused to leave his lips. _'Where had he been? Did he know where his body was? How could he leave? Did he feel as lost as he did? Why was this man able to make him wonder such things in the first place?'_

While his motor skills declined to produce speech, (undoubtedly _weepy_ shit he'd be sure to regret later) he was grateful for the unexpected interruption of his ring tone.

He glanced at the caller ID then answered his cell, "What'd ya got for me Carl?"

"Hey Brian, I'm sorry to call at this hour, but I believe I have some good news for you." the police detective said.

Brian felt like a five year old on Christmas morning, or at least what he could assume that was like. His fifth Christmas hadn't been much to remember, a fact he hadn't forgotten. He urged the other man to continue.

"Detective Grayson From the NYPD called me just a moment ago. He heads the 30th St. precinct up there, they have apprehended two men in the act of mugging and beating a young man in Chelsea."

"Is he OK?" Brian asked while silently begging the man to tell him something that would help _his own '_young man from Chelsea'.

"Yes, Sir. They got him to St. Vincent's in the Village, which brings me to the other piece of news." Carl continued.

Anticipation was all consuming, for both brunette as he listened to the phone and blonde as he listened to the brunette.

"It seems that the night of March 22nd a young John Doe was admitted there. Matches the description Ted gave me, early twenties, blonde. He suffered a blunt force trauma to the head, been in a coma ever since I'm afraid. It does bear striking resemblance to tonight's crime. Grayson and his guys are fairly positive it was the same assholes they arrested." He paused, then added "Well, I hope that helps you in, your, whatever it is you've gotten yourself into. As one of Debbie's lost boys I trust you. Just be careful and let me know if there's anything else I can do." he hung up.

For the first time in days Brian was genuinely expectant. He turned to face two very eager blue eyes and smiled.

"Looks like we got a lead on your ass Sunshine." he said lightheartedly. He was rewarded with the brightest damn smile in the goddamn universe. Justin raised an eyebrow, and Brian couldn't help but grin.

"What?" he inquired.

"Oh nothing. I just never imagined Brian Kinney as man whose ever had trouble finding ass before." the blonde teased.


	14. Dream

Foregoing all packing and planning, Brian caught the first available flight to New York. He'd decided to only inform Jennifer if this man indeed turned out to be her son. No sense in getting her hopes up, though his own hopes had since ascended into space.

The late night flight had been a stressful one in general with his nerves threatening to burst at the seams. The stress was only heightened when the flight attendant had knocked a tray of food onto his clean white t-shirt. Lucky for her, he had been too fucking anxious to yell at her.

As the cab pulled up to the front of the hospital, he cursed the rain's impatience. Heavy drops fell with relentless persistence providing him no escape from getting drenched. At least the coffee he had purchased at the airport was still hot. It was shaping up to be a long night. Caffeine only rivaled by oxygen in necessity.

As the strong wind and rain did it's best to give him that 'wind blown wet stray puppy' look, he saw the blonde laughing at his appearance under the building's awning.

"Ha. Ha. Yuck it up Spooky." he sneered as an older woman walking by dropped spare change into his coffee cup. _'What the fuck?' _

She too must have been impressed with his '_crazed homeless man arguing with himself on the streets of New York' _performance.

Justin laughed louder, Brian rolled his eyes and tossed his now ruined beverage into the trash.

"Christ Sleeping beauty, how does that little body mange to hold _so much _annoyance?" he drawled as they walked into St. Vincent's lobby.

* * *

"So, that's the best idea you've got? I'm to just go up and say 'Hey, take me to the hot blonde unconscious twink'?" Brian teased.

"Yes," the hot blonde unconscious twink responded "Why? What've you got?"

"A headache." The older man responded dryly pinching the bridge of his nose; then proceeded towards the dark haired woman behind the information desk.

Justin watched as Brian worked his 'Kinney charm' on the flirtatious young woman with the faulty Gaydar. In between giggles and hair flips she gave him directions to the room of '_John Doe'._

He felt an overwhelming force tugging at his very core. Involuntarily, he began to get pulled away.

Brian caught a glimpse of widening blue eyes and began to partake in the strangest game of 'follow the leader' he'd ever played.

* * *

'_Oh my God.' _resounded through both men's minds. Though the phrase was the same, the context was entirely different.

'_Oh my God! They'd found his body. Christ he looked awful. Anyhow, he was going to wake up. He was going to be able to touch Brian. He was fucking ecstatic.' _the voice inside the blonde's head uttered excitedly.

'_Oh my God! They'd found his body. Christ he looked so small and fragile. Faint bruises kissed flesh and various tubes connected his angel to the outside world. He was going to wake up. He was going to be able to touch Justin. He was fucking terrified.' _the voice inside the brunette's head uttered solemnly.

Justin observed his battered and broken form in the bed. "I look like shit. This is terrible." he declared.

Brian couldn't deny the smile wanting to gain access to his lips. "You'd prefer _dead_ Sunshine?" he teased.

The taller man stepped beside the bed. Seeing the blonde in the flesh was almost painful. Even in this condition, he was heartbreakingly beautiful. Brian's breath caught and refused to release. Instinctively, hazel eyes found the ventilator. He worried he too may need one in the presence of this _breathtaking _boy.

"Excuse me." came a soft voice and accompanying knock.

Brian turned and saw a young Doctor offering him a warm smile and hand. "Dr. Teegan. The nurses informed me that this young man had a visitor."

"Brian Kinney." he returned the man's handshake.

"Shit! My Doctor's sexy!" Justin announced and shot Brian a wicked smile. A declaration that caused Brian to feel, well he didn't know what exactly, but he didn't like it.

He allowed himself another glance at the physician. '_He was pretty hot, how the fuck had he missed that?' _His concern for Justin had trumped his cock, this was definitely a first for Brian-fucking-Kinney.

"So," the Doctor began checking the patient's chart, "are you family?" he met Brian's eyes.

"Oh. Uh, no. I'm a friend. He and I have actually been spending a lot of time together recently." he explained truthfully.

"Well Mr. Kinney, I can't tell you what a relief it is to finally have our boy identified. What's his name anyway?"

Brian didn't much care for the way this man had said _'our boy' _He knew it was ridiculous, this man was his Doctor, but he couldn't help feeling angry that he had been able to touch Justin for days.

"Justin Taylor." he answered without emotion "I'll give the nurse his mother's contact information soon. So she can call and get his medical history and whatever else you need."

"Yes, that would be wonderful." Dr. Teegan smiled.

"I know I'm not family, but is there anything you can tell me about his prognosis?" Brian asked, all the while never breaking eye contact with the blue across the room.

"Well I spoke to Detective Grayson," Brian shook his head and waved him forward, implying he had heard the report. " Well I'd say given the wound on his skull, it was defiantly a blunt object, most likely a bat." he frowned.

Hazel eyes saw red. His subconsciously clenching fists ached to drain the life of the bastards who did this.

The Doctor continued, "He hasn't regained consciousness at all. Although a few days ago he did show an increase in brain activity, there has been nothing since. I'm sorry. Well, I think I'll let you have a few moments." he said and excused himself. Leaving Brian alone with Justin's heart, body and soul.

"A few days ago?" Justin beamed. "I was here, I was in my body." as he continued to speak, Brian watched the man increasingly fade from view. "I can wake…" after those three words, the brunette could see his mouth moving, but he could no longer hear the divine voice delivering them. Within a mere moment, Justin's soul had evaporated from the room.

A mixture of excitement and worry stirred inside Brian. He rushed once more to the bedside and took a soft pale hand into his own.

"Rise and shine Sonnyboy." he whispered with hopeful anticipation. "Time to open up those baby blues."

Several unbearable moments passed, nothing happened.

He brushed the man's blonde hair from his face. '_Fuck, he truly was beautiful'_ "Come on Sunshine, please wake up." he softly pleaded with unabated desperation.

'_Why wasn't this working? After everything they had done to get here. He was to wake up. wasn't he?'_

Only half fighting the wetness attacking his eyes, Brian released an empty sigh. He brought his lips to the blonde's. _'Christ, breathing him in was intoxicating.' _

"Dream a little deeper, notice that I'm here." he whispered then placed a gentle kiss on Justin's lips. All the while he was hoping like hell that fucking fairytales held some merit. _'All that awakened with a kiss from a prince bullshit.'_

The moment their lips met, one of the monitors began to beep fervently, indicating a rapid acceleration of Justin's heart rate. Though, nothing else. He still did not awaken.

'_Of course. He always knew fairytales were for shit.' _There would be no happy ending to this story left untold.

Brian felt like he was falling, though he was standing still. Unstable thoughts roamed freely about his crumbled reality. He placed one more kiss on the lips of his dream, '_What he wouldn't give to hear those lips speak his name once more' _then went to give the nurse Jennifer's information.

* * *

Three days of sitting. Three days of staring. Three days of the _same fucking thing_, no change. Brian begrudgingly admitted defeat. Jennifer had encouraged him to stay, now however he was beginning to feel like he was only in the way.

Over those three days he had wondered endlessly that if he could fuck someone into unconsciousness then why was the reverse not possible? Try as he might, he was unable to love him awake.

Everything turned to nothing.

He decided it was time for him to take his leave. Time to go back to whatever-the-fuck life he was going to have without Sunshine. Without a goodbye to the Taylors, he proceeded towards the exit.

The sound of '_Nothing Matters' _echoed through the halls.


	15. Heart

His tie felt as if it were steadily tightening, threatening to strangle him. Silently, he almost wished it would indeed become a noose, ending his constant ache.

'_Why couldn't he really be the heartless bastard he'd always pretended to be?' _At least then he wouldn't have to feel the pain (_or the love_).

Every moment (both waking & those spent in nightmares) Brian's thoughts revolved around his sun. His heart.

It had been a week and a half since he had left part of himself in New York. Albeit he was almost convinced it had been a fucking lifetime. Apparently, the world spun slower on heartache time.

He had all but completely cut himself off from reality. He only took calls directly related to business. His cell had died days ago. He'd never bothered to recharge it. What a cruel son of a bitch reality had turned out to be anyway.

The one person Brian Kinney may have been able to love (he _didn't_ cringe) was unable to reciprocate.

'_Fuck Love. Yes. He needed to revert back to his original position on the subject. It was time to once again practice what he preached.'_

The brunette was stuck in a moment that was never meant to last. He didn't want to remember the end, but it was the most unforgettable part.

Today, another _after him _(that's how he calculated his life now, the days before him and the ones following) he was throwing a pity party for himself at 'Kinnetik'.

The party wasn't a surprise, to his surprise. _'He was Brian Kinney for fuck's sake. Pity made his dick soft.'_

Another guest joined the festivities. Cynthia's cheerful voice danced through the intercom on his desk. "Hey Boss. Your first interview just called, he's running a little late."

"Thanks." he barely managed to reply. The '_Give a shit' _well had run dry.

Absentmindedly, he lifted the pile of long forgotten resumes to get acquainted with the man about to kiss his ass (and not in a positive life affirming way).

Hazel eyes did a double take, worthy of a professional sport's instant replay. He ran (quite literally) to Cynthia's desk and shoved the paper too close to her face to read.

"This is the man that you just talked to?" he demanded none too politely.

Slightly taken aback by her boss's aggression, she backed up and allowed her eyes to focus. "Yes. Justin Taylor. He should be here in about fifteen minutes." she replied calmly before feeling the cyclone that was Mr. Kinney whirling back to his office.

* * *

After enduring the longest fucking fifteen minutes in the history of time, he heard a light knocking on his door.

Brian's heart, mind and cock raced to see which would burst first.

Justin was really here. Not just in his dreams, his imagination, or in his thoughts. He was abso-fucking-lutely _here_. Light khaki dress pants and a tight form fitting crimson sweater enriched his beauty.

Brian inhaled his presence so deeply he felt light headed. _'How do you breathe when I'm breathing you Sunshine?' _he wondered.

"Mr. Kinney?" the blonde inquired softly.

'_GOD. That voice. Brian challenged any angel with a harp to play as sweet.'_

Brian observed the man's outstretched hand, then noted the skepticism mixing with blue. His increasingly racing parts surged forward before coming to a screeching halt.

'_Justin _didn't _recognize him.'_

His heart crossed the finish line.

A now unbearable pressure exploded it into infinite pieces. Shattered shards of emotion pierced his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Brian couldn't stop himself from inviting the 'soul mate business' to sit in on this meeting.

Whether this man currently knew him or not was irrelevant. He knew enough for the both of them. Armed with the decision to allow Mr. Taylor an opportunity to get to know him once again, he relaxed. '_OK. He _tried_ to relax.'_

He had to remain professional as to not '_scare his sunshine away' _(as the song goes or what-ever-the-fuck).

He gave himself two rules:

1. Remain nonchalant.

2. Do NOT grab him and fuck him into the desk.

'_Two Goddamn _impossible_ rules.'_

_

* * *

_

Forty minutes later, both men emerged from the office and proceeded towards the door of the building. It had been an agonizing meeting. Justin sitting there, oblivious to the forgotten feelings hovering like a heavy fog as Brian all but choked on the thickness of those same memories.

Of course the man's portfolio was phenomenal but it didn't matter. Brian knew that he was going to hire him if he'd presented him fucking stick figures and finger paintings. The _'strictly business' _mask he was wearing seemed to tighten on his face with each passing second. So badly he wished to rip it off and reveal his true self to this blonde_. His _blonde.

Not something he routinely did, Brian had a distinct need to escort this man all the way outside. He wasn't about to waste a moment of his intoxicating availability. Even if one sided (for now) he wanted to be fully submerged in the flood of emotions flowing from him.

Thunder resounded loudly throughout the office. The storm that had been promising to visit all morning had finally arrived. The heaviest rain Brian had ever seen began to fall. The front windows showed a literal wall of water.

"Well, looks like I can't drive away right now." The blonde said with a shy smile, not knowing how he was going to handle being stuck in the office with _this man _for a moment more.

Mr. Kinney was the most painstakingly gorgeous man Justin had ever seen. Just being in the same room with him for this meeting, it was all he could to do just to focus.

Everything about this strong brunette had his head spinning, he overindulged in drinking him in. He was fucking sloshed. Inebriated with Brian's essence. Now, with this storm he had to endure even more minutes of (albeit delicious) _torture_.

He attempted uncomfortable small talk. "You know, I've always loved the smell of the air after the rain."

Another ache spread through every part Brian owned. His mind transported him back to the night Justin whispered those words to him for the _first_ time. He recalled how lost the blonde had looked as he watched the storm from the loft.

"A fresh start. A blank canvas of life." Brian replied "Washes away heartache." he added in a whisper almost absentmindedly.

'_Wow. It's as if this man had read his thoughts' _Justin felt a nagging feeling of familiarity he couldn't quite place. He didn't have long to get lost in consideration when that silken voice found him again.

"The Job's yours Sunshine." Brian offered the job in synch with his hand, and the subliminal offer of (the one thing he swore he'd never give) his _heart._

'_Sunshine?' _He accepted Brian's handshake. Something about _that _word, and _this_ touch forced a surge of electricity to attack Justin's nervous system.

A wave of emotion broken on a sea of remembrance.

Every memory rushed to the surface. This was Brian. His _heart. _His **soul**.

'_How could he have forgotten_?' It had taken him a week to awaken after they had arrived at St. Vincent's. His memories assaulted him roughly. For the first few days he had thought of him, pictured him, tried desperately to return to him.

It had been useless, he couldn't open his eyes _or_ project. Miserable and alone he put forth every ounce of strength he had to hold Brian's face in his memory, eventually he had faded into the same nothingness that had also infected his heart.

'_Never again would he forget everything this man had meant, was currently meaning, and would mean to him in the future.'_

Glancing down at the delicate pale hand currently enclosed in his own, Brian cursed the tears that threatened to fall. Then Justin smiled.

Sunshine broke through the rain.

'_Why was he smiling at him like, _like that? _No. He doesn't remember you Kinney.' _Brian was hoping like hell that his brain could hear his internal declaration over the immense fluttering of his heart.

That blinding smile only widened, Justin withdrew his hand and in turn formed two fists as if holding something. Brian raised and eyebrow.

"The sign says soul mate." he said simply, before wrapping his hand around his new boss's neck and crashing his lips to his own.

Brian didn't know whether to shed a tear from happiness or shiver from lust. So he did both.

The feeling of this contact, '_fucking finally' _this contact, was almost more than Brian could handle. As the Stud of Liberty Ave. he'd been touched by more hands and lips than he'd ever care to count.

Endless _nobodies _were effortlessly surpassed by this one and only _somebody_.

As Justin's tongue began to quite literally melt into Brian's mouth, the brunette groaned. He matched the blonde's depth in the kiss, needing nothing at that moment than to taste all of him.

He sucked on Justin's delicious tongue, let his own lightly graze the inside of his cheeks, his teeth, he pulled back gently, only to roughly assault that luscious bottom lip (that had teased him for too fucking long) with vicious precision.

He tugged his hand through the softest hair he'd ever touched and forcefully drew Justin nearer. The blonde moaned into his mouth. An action that vibrated Brian's throat, cock, and comprehension. No longer was he aware of anything that didn't involve the other man's taste and touches.

Eager hands trailed every inch of tightly toned, and trembling bodies, sending shivers of pleasure directly into the air. Ecstasy exuded from the soul mates as they desperately tried to devour the other in his entirety.

With lungs threatening to burst, neither was willing to break the kiss for needed air. Now that they had connected bodies to souls, they were loathed to separate for a mere second.

As the electricity in their ever deepening kisses increased, outside's storm caused the lights to flicker. Justin couldn't help but smile against Brian's consistently pressing lips. He was more than half convinced _this_ kiss was going to cause a fucking blackout.

Practically tasting his orgasm on his swollen lips, Justin begrudgingly pulled away first with heavy pants, and dizzying thoughts. Brian matched his heavy breaths and licked his lips. For the first time in his goddamn life he felt complete. Justin's kiss had provided the nourishment his heart had been craving.

He mentally recalled his previous list. _'2. Do NOT grab him and fuck him into the desk.' 'Yes. Rules were meant to be broken' _he concluded, as he pulled his angel to his office.

* * *

Brian had never felt anything as good, as tight, as just flat out fucking _right_ as being buried deep within this man. Something about Justin had him giddy and shaking like a virgin. Hell, if he was completely honest with himself, in a way he _was_. This was the first time he had ever fucked with this newly awakened body part. His heart.

Emotions and Sex had never coexisted before Justin Taylor. Though this newfound premise scared the holy hell out of him, he would never trade it for a thousand frivolous fucks. All he wanted, no, all he _needed_ was to feel this exhilarating connection he shared with his angel.

He couldn't control his roaming hands from gliding across the creamy ivory that was Justin's skin. He wanted to feel all of him, everywhere at once. His mouth greedily groped for any inch of delicious flesh that it could find. He increased his thrusts, and a shiver of immense pleasure rippled through every part both men had.

The blonde's lithe body lain, back draped over his boss' desk. As he fervently grabbed at Brian's thighs to deepen penetration, his blue eyes fucking _sparkled_. The older man now believed in Heaven, for it existed right-the-fuck-there, enclosed in the luminous shine of _those_ eyes.

"Brian, I love you." the most beautiful lips in existence whispered.

The blonde's words sent a fuck ton of feelings coursing through Brian. Some made it to his brain, some arrived at his heart. Mostly though, they surged directly to his cock.

He wasn't thinking clearly, and if asked at a later time he would only claim he didn't reply at all. However, Justin heard it, _'I love you sunshine.' _Though the passion coursing through him had disoriented his thoughts, he knew the words were present. Had they been spoken aloud? Perhaps. Had he heard them in Brian's kisses, tenderness or mind blowing fuck? Most likely. Either way, the message was clear when both men started to tremble. Their imminent release boiling below the surface, vibrating them to the core.

The ad executive kept ramming into his 'soul mate' with such abandon that he feared too soon he'd be rendered unconscious. It felt so fucking good to claim him, to mark him. Drunk on the power of control Brian couldn't hold out for a millisecond more. As Justin's own throbbing cock showered his delicately toned stomach with silvery strands of his orgasm, Brian let himself go.

He gripped Justin's slender hips (undoubtedly bruising him, branding him further) and began pouring _everything_ he had (figuratively and literally) into the beautiful body before him. An unidentified rush of heat came alive in his veins at that very moment. The moment of _complete possession_. This man was_ his_. He collapsed breathless and euphoric atop of said 'beautiful body'.

The word '_f__orever_' crossed his mind, and it didn't scare him at all, which in turn _terrified_ him. Terrified him more than monogamy, more than failure, more than the thought of the munchers having sex (he shuddered). _'Christ. He was fucked.'_


	16. Epilogue

_EPILOGUE _

"You were great in there, ever the charmer." Brian glanced at his _'Dare he say _boyfriend_. No. He dare not.' _in the passenger seat. The undefined, unconventional 'B word' Just nodded his pretty blonde head in agreement.

They had just left a business luncheon at the multimillion dollar home of the potential multimillion dollar '_Rennix Cosmetics' _account. Which Brian was fucking positive they had just landed thanks to Sunshine's multimillion dollar smile.

Since the day Justin Taylor had found him, he had unwittingly also found himself. The true Brian Kinney he'd never before known.

'_It turns out that he no longer believed his beliefs.'_

After knowing the indescribable, undesirable, _unendurable _emptiness in thinking he'd lost this beautiful blonde for good, Brian now believed only in whatever those blues eyes told him to.

Justin had thrived (of course) as the head of Kinnetik's art department. Seeing one another nearly every hour of the day had still not been enough. For either of them.

It had been two months since the blonde had ultimately found him a second time; yet not a moment passed where he did not find himself relishing in the reality of his presence with reckless abandon.

Brian Kinney may be a lot of things (most of them unpleasant) but he wasn't fucking stupid. Whether his ego liked it or not, he wouldn't allow himself to _ever_ feel this man's absence again.

As he drove, listening to the blonde singing along to whatever noise was on the radio, he permitted his inner lesbian to speak. He'd been hearing her voice quite frequently lately. _'He was fucking happy. Hell, he was goddamn blissful.'_

He heard '_his happiness' _gasp and instinctively looked up. His own light gasp escaped into the air.

"Holy shit Sunshine, looks like those voodoo visions of yours are valid. I guess you really do have the _gift, _and I'm not just talking about your impeccable ability to give head." Brian mused only half joking as he let his eyes fall on the structure before them.

The gorgeous architecture was rivaled only by it's breathtaking scenery. The mansion (Brian couldn't help but notice had a for sale sign displayed) was real life imitating art, _literally_.

The beautiful palace of which was the object of Justin's art stood before them. Brian quickly brought the memories of the dozens of paintings of this exact house Justin had in his apartment in New York to the surface of his mind.

Justin was in as much awe of this discovery as Brian was. He smiled brightly, "Yep. See? I'm magic." he waggled his eyebrows towards the brunette.

"Your crystal balls aren't the only ones you've got that possess magical powers." he said teasingly as he brought his hand to the blonde's ever hardening cock. With the friction between God's hands and the denim, Justin was half expecting to ignite into flames.

In between involuntary groans of pleasure, he did his best to produce a coherent thought. "I want to get out and see it."

"I want to whip it out and see it myself." Brian drawled sexily.

Justin _really_ wanted to be irritated and say something nearing 'No. I meant the house.' he just groaned with pleasure of teasing fingers instead. _'Hell, it's the thought that counts right?'_

Nevertheless, he managed to regain control of his muscles and stepped out of the car that was now parked in the driveway. None too pleased with the sudden exit of Justin's cock, '_Ok the rest of Justin too' _Brian retreated from the corvette.

With a subtle, graceful maneuver on Brian's part, Justin was pressed against the stone wall beside the gate in no time. Before the blonde realized what was happening, he was standing beneath the bronze body he loved so much, being deliciously assaulted with forceful kisses that made his cock throb against the confines of his jeans.

"Come on _magic man_," Brian whispered hot breath against the other man's ear "make those clothes _disappear_." he finished seductively.

Both men fumbled clumsily to undress the other. Pants pooled around ankles, shirts landed where-ever-the-fuck they felt like falling.

Brian licked his lips. He anxiously enjoyed every inch of that alabaster porcelain that was being revealed to him. Justin, feeling the intensity of those hazel eyes, blushed profusely, causing a hungry groan to escape the Brunette's lips without his permission.

Justin dropped to his knees and began doing his best impression of a religious man. In truth, all of his prayers had already been answered in the form of the God in which he was currently preparing to worship.

He teased his taste buds with a tempting sample of Brian's leaking nectar. _'The most delicious flavor known to man or at least to him.' _His tongue relished in the textures and feel of the cock slowly claiming his mouth.

He felt Brian's long fingers entangle themselves in his hair. He knew he wanted to push himself further into his throat, he obliged.

With an intense suction he drew in as much of his soul mate as he could. His vocal cords began to hum in harmony with the humming of his heart, which elicited a fucking hot moan of approval from the brunette.

Brian couldn't wait any longer. With dominant vigor he yanked on that glorious blonde hair bringing his angel to his feet again. Heart rates accelerated and uneven breaths escaped into the air. Justin felt a tingle of excitement as he watched a predatory gleam ignite behind hazel. His own eyes grew heavy with want, and he was forced to close them for a moment to gain control over his trembling body.

As if noticing this, the brunette gripped the other man's slender upper arms. The blonde steadied, then Brian grabbed him fiercely under his perfect ass and lifted him upwards, slamming (him none too gently) against the smooth stone wall. Justin's head fell back and hit the hard surface, though he didn't seem notice.

Brian nipped and sucked at his exposed throat, lips, earlobes, nipples and anything else he could reach. A light springtime rain began to fall. It's pleasantly surprising warmth was a delicious contrast to the cool breeze gently caressing their nude bodies.

Keeping Justin wrapped securely around his waist, Brian bent down and retrieved the needed 'playtime accessories' from the pocket of his forgotten pants. Small pale fingers lovingly prepared both his cock and himself for entry. Those same fingers then gently guided Brian forward, reaching down between them to position God's cock at his entrance. It twitched in anticipation.

Justin gripped Brian's shoulders and pushed himself up. With the assistance of strong arm muscles and gravity, he brought himself down to meet each of the brunette's thrusts. He grew even harder as he watched beads of water trickle down the long golden neck of Brian's thrown back head.

He lifted his hands and allowed his fingers to guide the cascading water through chestnut locks. He couldn't suppress the shiver coursing through his pores as he listened to the cadence of the water lightly pounding notes against the ground in synch with the pounding he himself was receiving. One sexy symphony.

He felt the water trail down the dip in his shoulder blades, and run the length of his spine. A heated pleasure chased away the chill of the cooling air. He struggled against the involuntary arching of his back to pull himself forward, closing the gap between him and his lover.

He was compelled to lift his lips towards the sky and taste the rain. Seeing this, Brian couldn't contain his smile, _or_ his desire to kiss the shit out of Justin's delicious mouth.

The entire exchange was sexy, slippery, sloppy, shiver inducing and an endless array of other 'S' words that they'd be hard pressed to think about at this particular moment.

Brian's body was overwhelmed with a tidal wave of emotion threatening to wipe out his entire existence. He needed to come so fucking bad, that he found himself grateful for the rainfall disguising the tears streaming down his face.

Justin's increase in needful desire had him gripping Brian's neck _too_ tight. He didn't mind. _'Hold on and don't let go' _he thought. Everyday he'd found himself finding another thing he loved about this man. _'Yes. he did love him' _A gentle breeze blew as if in an attempt to whisper his secret. He decided to reveal it himself.

"Fuck. Justin." he panted as his cock treated the blonde's ass to the warmth of himself. Shooting stars cascaded behind his eyes. He buried his face into the dripping strands of golden silk and inhaled deeply. "I love you Sunshine." he whispered and _fucking meant it. _

His declaration was rewarded with a blinding smile, exuding so much warmth that Brian half expected it to create a steamy mist between them. _'Yes. That smile was more than worth three words. Fuck. It was worthy of every syllable of every language ever spoken.'_

He set Justin back onto the ground, and allowed himself to fall into the blue. Fall he goddamn did. He fell like the snow in cold December, like the leaves in crisp November.

He collided his lips to that delicious pout and kissed his future like there would be no tomorrow. A new flavor was present on those succulent lips, it tasted to Brian very much like 'forever'. There would never be a day he'd have to feel alone again. His literal other half was here, and here he would remain.

Regardless of the storms that life would crash upon them, he remained hopeful. Now he _knew. _He glanced once more at his beautiful soul mate. _'Yes. He _knew_ there would _always_ be Sunshine after the rain.'_

The End.


End file.
