


Happy Birthday, Brian

by violette7



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-16
Updated: 2009-08-16
Packaged: 2013-09-15 05:56:49
Rating: M
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,854
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5305741/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1047068/violette7
Summary: Post-513. Justin leaves the loft but does not go to NYC. This is a prologue for a longer fic.





	1. Days 1 through 8

30 Days to Your Birthday (Day 1)

I knew that if I didn't leave of my own free will, you'd push me away until I left in anger or trick me, like you did when I was originally offered the job in Hollywood. I'm still angry about that by the way. I was so looking forward to taking that journey with you, helping you as a partner should while you defeated your own demons, transcending your own physical limitations. It should have been me, not Michael, by your side. I needed help, the help of people young enough to still resent the well-meaning interference of older folks, older folks who don't have a clue about what really matters. Hunter still hates me a little, but he still like-likes you, so he was more than willing to help me stay hidden for a while. Daphne, as always, was my partner-in-crime. She helped me plan the deception and will help keep me sane as I wait for you. Hasn't she always? Last night, you were so sad that I was floored. I knew you loved me, but your stubbornness, as always, made me forget, for a while, just how much, made me forget that you need me as much as I need you. I almost broke down and told you. But I couldn't risk it. I couldn't take you trying to give me everything, but, somehow, missing the point and taking from me all that I really need. So here I am, in the studio you thought I'd completely abandoned, painting as I can only do with you nearby, with the hope of our reunion not too far on the horizon. I am going to paint everything, all our ups and downs. 5 years later, 90% of my art still revolves around you. Ha.

29 Days to Your Birthday (Day 2)

I painted our first time today. The streetlamp, my fear and exhilaration, your cool confidence, your gentleness, our desire, your annoyance at friends' interference, our heat and electricity, and your love for Gus. Translation, I painted myself falling in love with you, recognizing the other part of my soul.

28 Days to Your Birthday (Day 3)

Today, I missed you so much, ached so much for your body, your touch, your kiss, that I painted what looks like a collage of you. I even painted parts of your image (so images would seem to overlap) and created the appropriate texture. To find drawings to base the painting on, I paged through all my sketchbooks from the last 5 years. The selection shows how much you've changed since we met, though you've changed little physically. Most of the changes can only be seen in your eyes. Later, I called your cell phone so I could listen to your voicemail message, jerked off in the shower, and cried myself to sleep.

27 Days to Your Birthday (Day 4)

Daphne's here today, thank goodness. I was getting a little morose. She's an expert at handling the symptoms of my Brian-Kinney withdrawal. We ate peach frozen yoghurt and popcorn and watched silly romance movies, all with deliriously happy endings. Her visit grounded me enough to start looking for an agent in New York. I hope it doesn't take long to find one.

26 Days to Your Birthday (Day 5)

I created a prom piece today. Daphne described the night to me again, every detail she could remember. I added touches representing the feelings I saw in your eyes when you were trying to help me recover my memory of that night. It's bittersweet, but beautiful, I think.

25 Days to Your Birthday (Day 6)

Hunter's been taking pictures of you for me. He brought the first set over today. I was dismayed to hear that, until yesterday, you hadn't left the loft. But I'm excited to have new images of you to sketch and study. It's a relief to draw you and read the expression in your eyes, things that have become so much a part of me that, now, they're as natural and involuntary as breathing.

24 Days to Your Birthday (Day 7)

I painted our emptiness today. The emptiness I saw in the pictures Hunter brought and the emptiness in my heart. Hunter came over again. I think he pities me a little. I hate being pitied, but, as a result, he made a copy of your answering machine tape for me. I absolutely loved that! I jerked off in bed, while listening to your voice and gazing at a recent picture. The only one with you smiling. The smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, but you threw your head back to laugh, which gave your hair a very sexy ruffled look. I didn't cry today. Okay, I did, but not as much.

23 Days to Your Birthday (Day 8)

I can't believe only a week has passed. I'm so glad I didn't really leave. Moving to New York would have done terrible things to me. Killed me inside, even if I still lived. My trips to California were difficult, but I knew they were temporary, and I could call you. Plus, you hadn't told me you loved me then. You hadn't proposed or bought me the country manor of my dreams. You hadn't given me everything I ever wanted and, then, asked me to abandon it all. I painted the second proposal today. The love I saw in your eyes and heard in your voice. My joy, much more joy than I ever thought I could feel. Our lovemaking. Would you scoff if you saw me using that word? You trained me well. I gagged a little when I saw it on the page and almost changed it. But fuck it. That's what it was. So there, Kinney (I'm sticking my tongue out at you).


	2. Days 9 through 16

22 days to your Birthday (Day 9)

Last night, I had a nightmare. The dream was so beautiful at first. You and I were married in Canada, and we were going to honeymoon in Vermont. We planned to go snowboarding. However, soon after we arrived in Vermont, Chris Hobbs came up behind me in the bed and breakfast's parking lot and bashed me again. Later, in the hospital, I was crying because you told me we had been married, but I couldn't remember the ceremony. Then, Hobbs came out of nowhere and said, "You forgot something, but not a wedding that never happened. You fucked yourself this time. Not me." I wish you'd been here to hold me. I couldn't go back to sleep no matter how hard I tried.

I'm still not sure I understand what the dream means. The reason I couldn't remember the wedding was because it didn't happen, and it didn't happen because of me or so dream Hobbs said. He claimed that I forgot something. What did I forget? Well…in real life, Vermont was a turning point for me. I thought you cared too much about work and too little about me. But you later risked everything for me. You put your career on the line to help fight for something I believed in, and, even after you were fired, you put yourself deep into debt to make sure we won. You did all that because I'd said that sometimes you have to sacrifice everything for something you believe in.

Dream Hobbs was right. I did fuck myself. I'm a fool! I was so pleasantly surprised that you gave up so much to help me keep Stockwell out of office. So surprised at your capacity for change. Why was I surprised this time? It'd all happened before. You even told me what you were doing this time, but I guess I didn't really believe you. You told me you were taking a chance on love. Could it be that the drastic changes in your behavior weren't drastic at all? You always told me that you never did anything you didn't want to do. Did you just use my reaction to the new Brian as an excuse to send me off to New York? Was that new Brian really you? I'm a fucking idiot. Of course it was. You never do anything halfway. Self-sacrificing Brian sacrificed everything. Why shouldn't the Brian who is no longer averse to love suddenly want to be monogamous and cuddle? You gave me everything I ever asked for…just in your own time. You went to my prom, you made me a higher priority than work, and you offered me a real commitment and a home. I no longer doubt that you would have one day wanted a family as well. I had everything, and I threw it all away. The question is, now what? How do I fix what I broke?

21 days to your Birthday (Day 10)

Today is a good day, no, a great day. A fabulous day. One of the agents with whom I have been emailing, George Cantor, is very interested in my work. He has a great reputation. Apparently, he's good friends with one of my former professors at PIFA, Professor Hadel. After my initial email, he called his friend. Mr. Cantor said that Professor Hadel gave him a glowing review of my work and voiced his hope that I'll return to school one day soon. Will wonders never cease? That professor never once complimented anything I painted while I was still in school. Mr. Cantor asked me to send him digital pictures of my most recent work, so I emailed him pictures of my four newest paintings and a couple I painted before I left the loft. I'm going to be on pins and needles until I hear back. I also decided how I'm going to make things right. I'm going to propose to you on your birthday. I'll show you that I can be a fat fucking success even if I live in Pittsburgh, and, then, I'll propose. It's the perfect plan.

20 days to your Birthday (Day 11)

I'm so excited about proposing and the likelihood that I'll have a new agent soon that, even though I still miss you crazy, I've been on cloud nine all day. I started a new painting inspired by your heroics during Stockwell's campaign and my dream a couple nights ago. It's going to represent hope and change. The wondrous transformations love can effect.

19 days to your Birthday (Day 12)

Would it be silly to give you an engagement ring? Cause I really want to. I want to get down on one knee (possibly in front of everyone we care about) and beg you to overlook my occasional stupidity and make me the happiest man in the world. I've been looking at rings online. I've seen some gorgeous, yet manly rose gold wedding bands that could serve as an engagement ring. Screw it! I'm just going to do it. Who cares how ridiculous I look? I, too, will put everything on the line for love. I can't get this damn smile off my face! Hunter brought more pictures today. He got some adorable father-son shots. After he left, I sketched for the rest of the day. Of course, I had to take frequent breaks. God, I miss your hand massages. But the sketches came out so great. It was worth all the pain and frustration.

18 days to your Birthday (Day 13)

I'm still working on my hope painting. It has to be just right. Mr. Cantor finally emailed me today. He wants to speak with me in person, so I'm going to fly to New York tomorrow. I wish he'd given me a clue what to expect. I may end up needing to stay for a day or two. I was afraid that I'd seem ignorant if I asked, so I didn't. Well, I guess I just need to be ready for anything. I'll pack a suitcase with a variety of clothes and book a room just in case.

17 days to your Birthday (Day 14)

I met with Mr. Cantor this morning. He wants to represent me. I guess I should start calling him George now that he's my agent. Anyhow, George was quite impressed with my work, or so he claimed. He believes that with my talent and his contacts, my career will take off in no time. I made sure he knew that I plan to live and work in Pittsburgh, but that I was willing to travel when necessary, for short periods of time. That didn't seem to trouble him in the slightest. In fact, he wants me to meet the owner of a small gallery tomorrow. Apparently, based on the pictures I sent George, she's interested in using some of my work for a three-artist show this fall. I wanted so much to share the good news with you, but I think it would be better to wait. It will have more impact if I tell you the same day I tell you that I've been in Pittsburgh this whole month, excepting the two-day trip. You need to know that I can be successful without living in New York.

16 days to your Birthday (Day 15)

I'm finally back in the Pitts. My meeting with the gallery owner couldn't have gone better. She definitely wants to use my four newest paintings. She told me to spend the summer painting and, then, come for a visit (bringing digital photos of whatever I've painted over the summer as well as of any other paintings I have that I've never shown) to discuss which other paintings to use. She wants me to have at least ten in the show.

15 days to your Birthday (Day 16)

I've been so productive today. Must be my excitement about the fall show (that and the fact that another week has passed—only two more until we're happily reunited—back together for good. I'm knocking on wood; don't want to jinx it). I finished my hope painting, and I made some basic sketches for a couple others. After I finished working, I took a long shower and jerked off while imagining our reunion sex. I don't think I've ever had a better orgasm on my own before (excluding phone sex, of course—at such times, you may not be touching me, but you certainly participate).


	3. Days 17 through 24

14 days to your Birthday (Day 17)

The gallery owner, Sue, emailed me a proof of a flyer she's having made for the fall show. There will be another in late summer. This one has two paintings from each artist. It's beautiful, all covered in turning leaves, reds, oranges, and yellows fading into one another. Sue used my prom piece and the 'first time' painting. I signed off on it (apparently the other two artists did as well), so she's going to send it to the printer. She promised to send me 25 of them. With luck, I'll have them by next week. I've decided to have your party here at my studio. That's the only place I can hold it that won't require me to enlist the aid of more of our friends and family. I don't want you to feel like the only person who was out of the loop. Judging by your reaction the last time you were here, I'm going to need to clean, have the windows replaced, and do a little redecorating. I'll keep my works in progress in the small work area you saw, use the larger storage area for the party itself, and fix up the small bedroom area so that we can stay here overnight. I have a large folding screen to separate it from the rest of the room. The best part is that it's canvas, so I'm going to cover it with golden gardenias in ivory, yellow, and orange, representing their three growth stages. I found the perfect engagement ring today. It's a dark rose gold (it almost looks like pure copper) open Celtic knot ring, with hearts in the knotwork. Beautiful but manly. I'm so excited; I've been smiling like a fool all day. I imagined us making love by candlelight surrounded by the golden gardenia screen, my legs around your waist, your cock buried deep inside me, us touching each other everywhere and kissing passionately. I'm getting so much better at imagining us fucking. It seemed that I could really feel the warmth of your skin against mine and your cock filling me up.

13 days to your Birthday (Day 18)

Daphne and Hunter came over today to help me clean. They were having lots of fun, splashing each other with sudsy water, blowing bunches of bubbles off their hands, and giggling. I wonder what's going on there. I'll have to grill Daph later. Despite all the fooling around, we actually got the studio spic and span. After lunch, when Daphne and Hunter were engrossed in their childish antics, I took a few pictures. I think I'm going to make a few sketches of them later. They looked so cute.

12 days to your Birthday (Day 19)

I had the windows replaced today. The studio looks so different already. I also started painting the screen. The ivory panel took most of the day, but it's finished. Only two more to go. I think I'm going to buy a new bed. Mine's not very comfortable, and it's way too small.

11 days to your Birthday (Day 20)

Hunter came by today with more pictures. He's such a great liar. Apparently, he told you that he was doing a project on interior design and wanted to photograph the loft and parts of Babylon, which, he tells me, is being renovated so that you can reopen it. So he managed to get some pictures of you working at home, in loose-fitting blue jeans, a white wife beater, and bare feet and some of you at Babylon, in a grey Armani suit, speaking with contractors. In one of the loft pictures, you're staring at something framed with a faraway look in your eyes. I asked Hunter to find out what it was you were looking at. I can't even guess what it is, and it's driving me crazy. The framing is amateurish, so it can't be one of my paintings, but it looks too big to be a photograph. I tossed and turned for hours because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I finally gave up on sleep and started the yellow panel. I painted until my hand ached and, eventually, fell asleep on the floor.

10 days to your Birthday (Day 21)

Daphne and I went to a flea market today, one place I am absolutely positive you would never go. We found two burnt orange and two burnt yellow tub chairs, a matching burnt orange sofa (that has a sort of wavy back), and a burnt yellow chaise. All velvet and very reasonably priced. I love the retro look. The main area is a far cry from your minimalist style, but it's warm, bright, and comfortable. I also bought a Japanese platform bed for the bedroom area. I saw it on a local furniture store's Web site and purchased it over the phone. It was expensive, but so worth it. The headboard is covered in white leather, and the platform and nightstands are made out of pine. It's going to look fabulous with the gardenia screen. The store delivery people will bring it to the studio tomorrow.

9 days to your Birthday (Day 22)

I finished the yellow panel today. Only one to go! I decided that I'm going to serve Cajun food at your birthday party. I thought you might find it amusing if I cooked jambalaya again, among other things. Unfortunately, that means I need a real refrigerator and an oven, so Hunter and Daphne went to see a few that had been advertised in the paper. They eventually came back with a matching set, olive green. They're perfect! They also returned with two tall, dark brown freestanding kitchen cabinets. The owner of the oven and refrigerator threw those in for an extra 50 bucks. What a bargain! The bed came today! I'm going to set it up tomorrow. I still need to buy some bedding for it. I think I'm going to stick with white.

8 days to your Birthday (Day 23)

Daphne and I went shopping. I kept looking over my shoulder like the cops were after me. I'd hate to wreck the surprise because I needed to buy bedding. I can't believe how much your beloved Egyptian cotton sheets (1500-thread count) cost. I spent more on them than I did furnishing the living room. Course, I bought the furniture at a flea market, but still. I took a nap in the new bed. I slept better than I have in weeks. It was so easy to imagine that I was in your bed at the loft. To imagine that you were just in the kitchen getting water and would soon return to fuck me into the mattress. Not today, but soon. Just eight more days…

7 days to your Birthday (Day 24)

I painted the orange panel today. My hand was so sore that I had to take a pain killer. But it was worth it. The screen looks beautiful. As I thought, it perfectly complements the new bed. Hunter came by in the evening to tell me that he managed to find the framed picture you were looking at. He photographed it for me. Imagine my shock (and delight) to see your naked figure staring back at me. Apparently, you bought it from the GLC show. I can't believe you never told me you were the one who bought it. Were you afraid that I'd feel less talented if I learned someone I knew had purchased it? Or, more likely, were you unwilling, even as recently as a few weeks ago, to admit how quickly you had fallen in love with me? Daphne came over with a few bottles of wine to celebrate the end of week three. I stretched out on the burnt yellow velvet chaise, she on the burnt orange velvet couch, and we talked for hours. We reminisced about my early stalker days and discussed party plans. I even asked her about Hunter. She said she thinks he's cute and funny. When I asked if she thought he was hot, she lost the ability to speak coherently and desperately tried to change the subject. I think I need to have a chat with Hunter.


	4. Days 25 through 30

6 days to your Birthday (Day 25)

Less than a week left until your birthday. I'm so excited; when I think about it, I have trouble breathing. I wonder if you were as nervous the second time you proposed. I am so excited and nervous that I have lost all higher brain functions. Without Daphne and Hunter, I'd be completely useless. I felt so relieved when Daphne brought over a bag today. She's going to stay here until the big day, and Hunter has been coming over whenever he can. We designed simple invitations for the party and made it seem as though you were throwing it. Hunter will hand deliver invitations to Deb, Carl, Emmett, Ted, Ben, and Michael the morning before the party, and Daphne will do the same with my mom, Tucker, and Molly.

5 days to your Birthday (Day 26)

I'm going to make steamed oysters, seafood bisque, crawfish étouffée, jambalaya, and pecan pie for the party. Daphne and Hunter helped me make a list of everything I'll need, including pots and pans. They went shopping while I lay in the bed I bought for us, gazing at the gardenia screen and fantasizing about our reunion. Later, I made a few sketches of Daphne and Hunter from the pictures I had taken on cleaning day. I gave them each one. They seemed happy. Especially Hunter. The sketch I gave him actually rendered him speechless, if you can believe it.

4 days to your Birthday (Day 27)

The ring and the flyers came today. The ring is even more beautiful than it seemed in the pictures. I had the jeweler engrave it, though it was hard because it's an open knot ring (as opposed to a solid band with knotwork placed or engraved on top). It reads, "U R my heart (the shape, not the word)."

3 days to your Birthday (Day 28)

Today, Daphne surprised me with a beautiful pale turquoise cashmere sweater for the party. She thinks I should wear it with my white jeans. They make my ass look incredible. I was even more surprised when Hunter gave me four hits of this fantastic E you and I had once. I've never been able to find a trustworthy source since that first time last year, but somehow Hunter managed it.

2 days to your Birthday (Day 29)

I spent hours trying to write my proposal speech. I want it to be perfect. But how do you express feelings verbally when those feelings transcend words? I ended up painting most of the day. It was like I was possessed. I couldn't stop until I managed to get everything out onto the canvas. I have never been as pleased with any of my paintings before. I hope you like it. Who am I kidding? I want you to love it. I want you to know, without my saying a word, exactly what it means, exactly how I feel about you.

1 day to your Birthday (Day 30)

This morning, I made jambalaya for the party. After all, it's always better on the second day. Then, Daphne and Hunter spent the evening keeping me sane. They rented a bunch of comedies and fed me popcorn and a million different types of candy. I actually went several hours without thinking about party plans or whether you'd say yes when I proposed.


	5. Day 31, the Proposal

Brian's Birthday (Day 31)

Hunter's POV

I had gotten Brian to come to the studio by telling him that there was an emergency. I had only managed to get him there 15 minutes before the guests were supposed to arrive. I hoped that Brian would get with the program quickly.

"I thought Justin stopped renting this place."

"Well, you know how he likes to hang onto old things," I responded sarcastically.

Brian just glared at me.

When we walked in, Brian was shocked to find Justin standing about a foot in front of him, wearing a pale turquoise cashmere sweater and snug white jeans that perfectly accentuated his ass and cock.

Brian stared at Justin as though he were a ghost for several long minutes. Justin finally broke the silence.

He said in a soft voice, "Happy Birthday, Brian."

"I don't understand. How are you here?"

Justin hesitated, looking down for a moment before meeting Brian's eyes once more. In a near whisper, he replied, "I never left."

"What the fuck, Justin? I…Fuck!"

Brian turned away.

"Brian, wait, please. I know you're confused and angry, and you have every right to be. But please, just hear me out. Please."

Two minutes passed in silence. Then, he turned back around and said, with a blank expression and an emotionless tone, "I'm listening."

His entire body was closed off.

Justin blinked away tears and began in a shaky voice, "I know that you've always tried to do and make me do what's best for me, but you aren't always right. You love me, and you don't want things to be hard for me, but, sometimes, you just need to leave well enough alone and let me make my own way. Like with the Pink Posse."

Daphne and I, standing together behind Justin, saw Brian's mask slip and a look of pain pass over Brian's face before he managed to get control of his feelings.

Deb, Carl, Emmett, Ted, Ben, Michael, Justin's mom, her boyfriend, and Molly walked in, but both Brian and Justin were oblivious to everything but each other.

Justin swallowed hard and continued, "You had to let me make my own choices, my own mistakes. I had to work through the residual issues I had from the bashing alone. Well, I'm telling you now that this is another time when I have to make my own way. I can't listen to other people who think they know what I need, what's best for me. Going to New York might be the 'smart' choice, but so was Ethan, and that was a huge mistake, the biggest mistake I had made up to that point. I can become famous working in the Pitts. It might take longer, but it can be done. What I can't lose, what I need the most…"

Brian's eyes met Justin's.

"…is you, us. You are my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. When I realized that, again, I just couldn't leave. But I couldn't convince you with words, so I came here. To do this."

Justin handed a flyer to Brian.

"I have an agent in New York, one with a great reputation, and I have already been asked to do a show. It's only a three-artist show at a small gallery in New York, but it's a beginning. And, as always, it began with us."

Brian looked doubtful. "What do you mean?"

"Look at the pieces under my name. These are paintings I made while I was here the first week. They are about us. I showed the gallery owner paintings I did before I left the loft. Interesting but soulless pieces I painted after we called off the wedding. I was so concerned with technique; I tried so hard to create something impressive, but she wasn't impressed at all because I had already started dying inside. She wanted these two and another two I painted my first week here. They are all about us. Our first time, the prom, the emptiness of being apart, the emptiness I feel and the emptiness I saw in your eyes in a recent picture Hunter gave me, and you, my eternal muse. She took one look and perceived the love and the longing, the passion, and she wanted them in the show straightaway, no doubts at all in her mind. How can I put anything real in my work, no matter what the subject, if I'm separated from you, my heart."

Deb, Justin's mom, Emmett, and Daphne were all crying softly. I blinked a few times to keep my eyes dry.

"Everything worthwhile I've ever done began with us. I think if you look back, you would say the same. Even Gus. He was born the day we met, and I named him. Together, we can do anything. Apart, we aren't even whole."

Justin took a deep breath and continued, "That actually brings me to another question."

Brian looked at him in confusion.

"When you said that I was all you wanted at the bachelor party and when you wanted to cuddle, I freaked out."

Brian scoffed, "Understatement of the century."

Justin laughed. But in a voice laden with emotion, one that continually threatened to break, he said, "I had wanted to be all you needed and desired for so long, but, eventually, I gave up hoping. Then, when it happened, I was afraid to trust it. I had forgotten three important rules from the Brian Kinney Handbook."

"Didn't you write that book?" Brian asked with amusement in his eyes.

"Yeah. I did. One, Brian Kinney never does anything he doesn't want to do, two, Brian Kinney never does anything halfway, and, three, Brian Kinney is capable of amazing changes, and, at those times, he becomes someone almost entirely new. You did it right before my prom, during Stockwell's campaign, and, again, when you asked me to marry you. You gave me everything I ever asked for (except one, but I imagine that will only be a matter of time), and I threw it all away because I was scared to trust it. I don't ever want to make that mistake again. I want to wake up beside you every morning. I want what I've wanted since the day I met you, to be in your life and for you to be in mine. Every day and in every way possible."

Justin got down on one knee in front of Brian (at this point, everyone gasped), pulled a ring out of his pocket, took Brian's left hand, and slipped it on.

Brian stared at the ring for a moment and, then, looked at Justin intensely. He asked, "What's this?"

This time, try as he might, Justin couldn't keep his voice from breaking. "It's an engagement ring. It means that I love you. I've loved you since the day we met, and I always will. You're my heart."

Looking up at Brian shyly and trembling slightly, though his voice was even, he asked, "Brian Kinney, would you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

Everyone was holding their breath. Even me.

Brian lifted Justin to his feet, kissed him passionately, and, then, after a long pause, whispered in his ear, loudly enough for all to hear, "Yes. There is nothing I would like more than to marry you, Justin Taylor."

Brian's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Then all hell broke loose. Emmett and Daphne started squealing, Deb and Justin's mom were crying, and Michael, Ben, Ted, and Justin's mom's boyfriend were patting Brian and Justin on the back congratulating them, while Brian and Justin were desperately trying to extricate themselves from the crowd, so they could go fuck.


	6. Day 31, Reconnecting

Justin's POV

As an American, I was accustomed to happy endings (in films). But as Justin, Brian's partner, I'd given up any hope of ever walking off into the sunset with Brian's hand in mine. I know. Sounds so cheesy, doesn't it? But now…now, everything I'd ever dreamed of having with Brian was possible. I remembered Brian's response to my marriage proposal, "Yes. There is nothing I would like more than to marry you, Justin Taylor," and smiled brightly. Then and there, I silently vowed that I would hold onto my happy ending with all that I had. I could feel Brian smile against my neck and wrap his arms around my waist as we climbed the stairs. I looked down and saw the engagement ring I gave him on his hand, gleaming in the bright early afternoon light. I sighed in contentment.

I tried not to worry about what could break us apart. Tricking. Pride. Passive aggression. Breakdowns in communication. Misguided beliefs. Fear. Vanity. Unsolicited portents about my future.

Likewise, I tried to shove aside the doubts creeping up on me, but, in spite of my efforts, I wondered, "What happens once 'and they lived happily ever after' fades from the screen? Would our passion wane? Would we soon begin worrying about bills, home repairs, pets' illnesses, and kids' soccer games rather than who's got the best E, what we'll do in the middle of the night when the seemingly endless supply of condoms dries up, and how we'll function on just two hours of sleep, Deb's coffee, and memories of the best orgasm either of us have had to date? Would we be able to find a middle ground?"

All these thoughts passed through my mind on our way to the roof to "celebrate our engagement." Brian was amazing. I hadn't even considered the roof, though I'd lived in this building off and on for months. But Brian could sense a good spot for fucking a mile away.

Once there, Brian spread his leather jacket on the ground, sat down, and pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him. He placed his hands on my neck and slowly pulled me in for a kiss. He pressed his lips against mine softly and, then, pulled back to gaze, yes, gaze, into my eyes (with such intensity that he literally took my breath away), before tracing my bottom lip with his tongue, pushing it into my mouth, teasing mine out, and exploring every inch of my mouth. He threaded his fingers into my hair (so slowly that it gave me chills), tilted his head, and deepened our kiss. Oh. My. God. That may have been the most passionate kiss we've ever shared.

I ground my growing erection into Brian's and moaned in his mouth. He broke our kiss and began sucking on my neck, focusing on my pulse point. I groaned. It had been too long. Way too long. I needed to feel him inside me as soon as possible. I stood up, pulling him with me, as I whispered, "Undress." I was naked in under a minute, though I made sure my white jeans and blue cashmere sweater were safe from harm. I didn't want to wreck my perfect outfit.

Once Brian was naked, I pushed him back down, took the lube from his hand, and prepared myself quickly. I needed him inside me so badly that my chest ached. He watched me, his eyes darkening with lust. Brian sheathed his cock, and I knelt down, inching it inside me slowly. I loved feeling him enter me, stretching me to accommodate his size. We gazed into each other's eyes the entire time. When I pushed the last inch of Brian's cock inside me, he moaned loudly and breathed, "Justin." Hearing him speak my name with such desire set butterflies to fluttering in my stomach. I bit my lip and started riding him, slow at first but, then, faster.

Brian kissed me passionately and grabbed my ass. I moved him around inside me until his cock hit my prostate, setting my entire body on fire. I started riding him hard and fast involuntarily, propelled as I was by desperate need. Brian leaned down, tracing my right nipple lightly with his tongue and, then, sucking on it hard. Dizzy with pleasure, I started half-muttering, half-moaning a barely coherent chain of words, "Brian. Fuck. Oh yeah. More. Christ." Brian, realizing that I was close, worked his hand under and behind my balls and started tracing circles on my perineum. That sent me over the edge. I shouted, "Oh, ohhh, ohhhhhh, Brian, oh fuck." My cum spurted up into the air like my cock was some crazy fountain, and Brian grabbed my waist and pushed me up and down faster and harder until his orgasm began to rip through him. He froze, wrapped his arms around me tight, and let out a guttural moan, more loudly than I have ever heard him. Then he cupped my face and brought my lips crashing down onto his, kissing me desperately. When he finally released me, he whispered, "I love you."

I teared up a little as I responded, "I love you, too Brian. So much." My voice broke at the end.

Brian rested his forehead against mine until he caught his breath and, then, pulled back and grinned as he looked at his chest, arms, and thighs, all of which were covered in my cum.

"You sure know how to mark your territory, don't you, Sunshine?"

I giggled and blushed.

Then I looked at him with a serious expression and asked softly, "You're my territory?"

He smiled, but his eyes were intense. "I am," he said huskily.

My heart skipped a beat, and my body flushed. When I recovered a little, I smiled softly and said, "We'd better get back to your birthday party. People will wonder where we wandered off to…"

Brian quirked an eyebrow.

I laughed. "Okay, maybe not. But still…"

I stood up and started dressing as Brian cleaned up and did the same.

Luckily, he was wearing a wifebeater underneath his black pullover.

When we made it back, everyone in the room stared at us.

Hunter asked cheekily, "So how was the reunion fuck?"

Daphne punched him in the arm. So hard that he winced.

Brian replied evenly, as though Hunter had asked about a presentation, "I think it went quite well. Wouldn't you agree, Sunshine?"

I repeated softly, "Quite well" and smiled shyly.

Hunter said, "Oh we know." Then that little bastard started imitating me. "Brian. Fuck. Oh yeah. More. Christ…Oh, ohhh, ohhhhhh, Brian, oh fuck."

Daphne was trying to cover his mouth, but he ran, and, Daphne, being even more persistent than I am, gave chase. Everyone was laughing, even Brian. Well, except me. I turned bright red and buried my face in Brian's chest.


	7. Day 31, the Journal

Brian's POV

Once the laughter died down, Justin went to the new kitchen area to put the finishing touches on the party food. Mother Taylor, Molly, Emmett, Deb, and Daphne joined him, no doubt to give him the third degree. Ben started to enlighten Ted, Tucker, and Mikey on the plethora of different rituals the world's cultures have used to commemorate a person's transitions from one life role to another. I manage to escape into Justin's studio.

Hunter followed me in and said, "Happy Birthday, Brian."

I drawled, "Well, if it isn't the littlest hustler. So what's going on with you and Daphne?"

He actually blushed. I quirked an eyebrow and continued to observe him carefully.

He walked over to Justin's worktable and pulled a notebook out of one of the drawers. Then, he handed it to me.

"This is my gift to you."

"What is it?"

"The journal Justin's been writing since he came back here. I happened to see him writing in it one day and scoured the apartment looking for it. I finally found it this morning."

I snapped, "It's not yours to give."

Hunter smiled softly and pulled a folded up sheet of paper out of his back pocket. He looked at it for a moment before showing it to me.

He began hesitantly, "Justin…he drew this from a picture he took of Daphne and me."

He shook his head and, then, continued, "No one has ever done anything like that for me before."

This I could understand. Having coming from a fucked up family, too, I was similarly amazed the first time I saw a drawing Justin had done of me. I couldn't understand how he could find me beautiful enough to be a subject for his art. I mean, I knew I was hot, but most people just wanted a piece, a legendary fuck they could tell their friends about. They certainly didn't spend hours observing me closely, every detail, even the expression in my eyes, so they could render it on paper or canvas. No one had ever adored me the way Justin always has, not even Mikey. Mikey saw me as a mythic figure, a comic book hero, not a flawed, but beautiful man, a man who was not beautiful in spite of his flaws, but because of them. Only Justin saw me that way.

Hunter stammered, "Ever since he gave me this, I've wanted to do something for him. I got you guys some great E for tonight, but when I saw him writing this journal, I knew I could do him an even bigger favor. He would never show this to you or even admit he wanted you to read it, but he addressed every entry to you."

I was shocked and touched, but not too distracted to realize that Hunter had just admitted to reading the entire thing.

Annoyed, I asked, "You read it?"

"Yeah. At first, I just wanted to know what it was…but then I couldn't stop myself. He really loves you, I mean, _really_ loves you. You have to read it, and I know Justin would want you to."

With that, Hunter left. I stood there staring at Justin's journal. I hesitated. This would be a total violation. But how could I resist. I pulled up a stool and sat down to read.

Day 1

_Hunter still hates me a little, but he still like-likes you, so he was more than willing to help me stay hidden for a while._

I chuckled. Only Justin would still use "like-like" after leaving junior high. Justin was most definitely a man and had been for some time, but there was a beautiful innocence and playfulness about him that he could never lose. That was one of the unique qualities that had sent me falling head over heels for him. I had grown up way too fast. I was as jaded as most adults of 35 are by the time I was 6 or 7. Thus, I was captivated by…no one word could cover it. Justin was just so often amazed by people and the world…and, no matter what horrors he witnessed or experienced, he could still believe and trust. He could laugh with abandon, be silly, and give himself over completely to an experience, to love…Sometimes, he could even get me to do the same. I shook my head and laughed. Who would ever have believed that a 17-year-old virgin would one day have me behaving like a kid and thinking and feeling like a lesbian…

_Last night, you were so sad that I was floored. I knew you loved me, but your stubbornness, as always, made me forget, for a while, just how much, made me forget that you need me as much as I need you. I almost broke down and told you. But I couldn't risk it. I couldn't take you trying to give me everything, but, somehow, missing the point and taking from me all that I really need. So here I am, in the studio you thought I'd completely abandoned, painting as I can only do with you nearby, with the hope of our reunion not too far on the horizon._

I swallowed hard. I had no words…

Day 2

_I painted our first time today. The streetlamp, my fear and exhilaration, your cool confidence, your gentleness, our desire, your annoyance at friends' interference, our heat and electricity, and your love for Gus. Translation, I painted myself falling in love with you, recognizing the other part of my soul._

I looked around until I saw a painting that seemed to match the description. It was breathtaking. The top left corner was black, but there was a faint yellow glow within the dark patch. The center was occupied by a stretch of bright red. Part of it seemed to ripple and was infused with warm oranges and cool blues. Another part seemed to explode into jagged edges, touched with a white-yellow. The bottom right corner was connected to the center by a patch of light orange. Next to the orange was a royal blue that gradually became a pale green as one traced it to the right. The orange and blue, side-by-side, spiraled around each other, slowly taking on qualities of the other until they became one at the bottom, a beautiful ethereal silver, which weaved its way through all the patches making up the painting. I blinked back tears and cleared my throat.

Day 3

_Today, I missed you so much, ached so much for your body, your touch, your kiss… Later, I called your cell phone so I could listen to your voicemail message, jerked off in the shower, and cried myself to sleep._

I thought, "You weren't alone, Sunshine. I couldn't help but fantasize about you every time I stepped under the shower's hot spray, and I gazed at that first drawing you made of me far too long and far too often…thinking of you…missing you."

Day 4

_Daphne's here today, thank goodness. I was getting a little morose. She's an expert at handling the symptoms of my Brian-Kinney withdrawal. We ate peach frozen yogurt…_

Thinking about our experiences with peach frozen yogurt, I smiled. It's no wonder he immediately reaches for it when he is blue. I may never tell him this, but I do, too.

Day 5

_I created a prom piece today. Daphne described the night to me again, every detail she could remember. I added touches representing the feelings I saw in your eyes when you were trying to help me recover my memory of that night. It's bittersweet, but beautiful, I think._

I would wait for Justin to show me this one. Was I afraid of what I would see or was I trying not to overstep (anymore than I already had by reading this)? I don't know.

Day 6

_Hunter's been taking pictures of you for me…It's a relief to draw you and read the expression in your eyes, things that have become so much a part of me that, now, they're as natural and involuntary as breathing._

That's why the littlest hustler had been hanging around so much! I can't even list all the strange habits that have become as natural as breathing since meeting Justin…hand massages…holding Justin at night…reading the arts section of the paper…coming home by 3am, whether or not we are together…avoiding other men's lips like the plague…keeping a stock of cheerios…

Day 7

_I painted our emptiness today. The emptiness I saw in the pictures Hunter brought and the emptiness in my heart._

I looked around the studio until my eyes lighted upon a canvas that was primarily dark grey and black. I could see traces of light orange and royal blue and wisps of that beautiful silver here and there, but the painting was otherwise bereft of color. The cloudy-sky gray seemed to be everywhere, and patches of black, like black holes, seemed to suck the life out of everything around them. What color there was dulled and faded as it neared them. A world without Sunshine. I frowned.

_I jerked off in bed, while listening to your voice and gazing at a recent picture. The only one with you smiling. The smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, but you threw your head back to laugh, which gave your hair a very sexy ruffled look. I didn't cry today. Okay, I did, but not as much._

Suddenly, my chest ached. No amount of rubbing could banish the empty feeling that had taken up residence there.

Day 8

_Moving to New York would have done terrible things to me. Killed me inside, even if I still lived._

The ache in my chest intensified. A dreadful feeling of falling and constricted sobs just beneath the surface.

Day 9

_I had everything, and I threw it all away. _

I thought, "You weren't the only one, Sunshine."

Day 10

_I'll show you that I can be a fat fucking success even if I live in Pittsburgh, and, then, I'll propose._

I couldn't help but glow with pride and admiration. Justin was always so determined and brave.

Day 11

_I started a new painting inspired by your heroics during Stockwell's campaign and my dream a couple nights ago. It's going to represent hope and change. The wondrous transformations love can effect._

I think I'll wait for Justin to show me this. Even now, I desperately needed to feel that Justin was proud of me.

Day 12

_Would it be silly to give you an engagement ring? Cause I really want to. I want to get down on one knee (possibly in front of everyone we care about) and beg you to overlook my occasional stupidity and make me the happiest man in the world. I've been looking at rings online. I've seen some gorgeous, yet manly rose gold wedding bands that could serve as an engagement ring. Screw it! I'm just going to do it. Who cares how ridiculous I look? I, too, will put everything on the line for love. I can't get this damn smile off my face!_

I couldn't help but feel touched and proud. This reminded me of why I love Justin so much…why I fell so hard.

Day 13

_I was afraid that I'd seem ignorant if I asked, so I didn't._

I truly admired Justin's capacity for honesty. I always said that I was honest, but that wasn't quite true. Being honest with myself was never easy. I usually ran on bravado. Before I met Justin (and for a long while after), I had to or I would have been paralyzed by self-loathing, the biting words of my parents and even my surrogate family and friends floating around in my head. Before Justin, I'd never thought of myself as being beautiful and strong, capable of love, or even worth loving. But I'd always wanted to be. Before Justin, I never would have been able to admit that, even to myself.

Day 14

_I wanted so much to share the good news with you, but I think it would be better to wait. It will have more impact if I tell you the same day I tell you that I've been in Pittsburgh this whole month, excepting the two-day trip. You need to know that I can be successful without living in New York._

I thought, "Good news doesn't seem real to me, either, not until I tell you."

Day 15

_She wants me to have at least ten in the show._

Christ, I was so fucking proud.

Day 16

_I've been so productive today. Must be my excitement about the fall show (that and the fact that another week has passed—only two more until we're happily reunited—back together for good. I'm knocking on wood; don't want to jinx it). _

I hated that I helped do this to Justin. Our first year, he never doubted. But I wasn't sure what I could do to fix it. The truth is, I'd always wanted Justin with me, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was bad for him…I worried that he'd never have everything he wanted and needed in life if he stayed or that one day he'd realize I'm not worth the trouble and leave me for good. But he'd declared pretty firmly that I was what he needed the most…I really wanted to trust that.­

_After I finished working, I took a long shower and jerked off while imagining our reunion sex. I don't think I've ever had a better orgasm on my own before._

How pathetic was I? I was a little jealous of Justin's hand. I needed to see it in action.

Day 17

_The best part is that it's canvas, so I'm going to cover it with golden gardenias in ivory, yellow, and orange, representing their three growth stages. I found the perfect engagement ring today. It's a dark rose gold (it almost looks like pure copper) open Celtic knot ring, with hearts in the knotwork. Beautiful but manly. I'm so excited; I've been smiling like a fool all day. _

I stared at my ring, fingering it gently. This, no doubt, sounded incredibly lesbianic, but I loved the fact that he'd proposed…on bended knee and proffering an engagement ring. His rejection of my first proposal and his hesitance during the second had killed me. His little freak out after the bachelor party had just intensified my fears. But his proposal had sent most of them packing. I was now 95% sure he really wanted this.

_I imagined us making love by candlelight surrounded by the golden gardenia screen, my legs around your waist, your cock buried deep inside me, us touching each other everywhere and kissing passionately. I'm getting so much better at imagining us fucking. It seemed that I could really feel the warmth of your skin against mine and your cock filling me up._

I hated that Justin'd had the chance to master fantasizing while jerking off. But it was certainly a testament to the strength of his responsiveness and imagination.

I thought. "If I have anything to say about it, your fantasy would become reality tonight, Sunshine. That's what I want these days. I want to be your dream come true. It's official. You've laid me low………………(and raised me higher than I could ever have imagined)."

Day 18

_Daphne and Hunter came over today to help me clean. They were having lots of fun, splashing each other with sudsy water, blowing bunches of bubbles off their hands, and giggling. I wonder what's going on there. I'll have to grill Daph later. _

Ditto and ditto.

Day 19

_I think I'm going to buy a new bed. Mine's not very comfortable, and it's way too small._

It was about fucking time. Well, it would be once we got to Justin's huge brand new bed.

Day 20

_In one of the loft pictures, you're staring at something framed with a faraway look in your eyes. I asked Hunter to find out what it was you were looking at. I can't even guess what it is, and it's driving me crazy. The framing is amateurish, so it can't be one of my paintings, but it looks too big to be a photograph. I tossed and turned for hours because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I finally gave up on sleep and started the yellow panel. I painted until my hand ached and, eventually, fell asleep on the floor._

I whispered, "If only you knew…Wait. You _should_ know. No one haunts me the way you do, Sunshine."

Day 21

_Daphne and I went to a flea market today, one place I am absolutely positive you would never go._

I scoffed, "You're damn skippy."

_I love the retro look. The main area is a far cry from your minimalist style, but it's warm, bright, and comfortable._

It suited Justin…and I didn't mind it. In fact, I kind of liked it.

Day 22

_I decided that I'm going to serve Cajun food at your birthday party. I thought you might find it amusing if I cooked jambalaya again, among other things._

Jambalaya=the first time I let Justin 'care' for me. Scared the shit out of me when I realized that I kind of liked it. I couldn't help but remember hotlanta though (translation, what an absolute shit I could be).

Day 23

_Daphne and I went shopping. I kept looking over my shoulder like the cops were after me. I'd hate to wreck the surprise because I needed to buy bedding. _

I laughed so hard that I nearly fell off the stool.

_I can't believe how much your beloved Egyptian cotton sheets (1500-thread count) cost. I spent more on them than I did furnishing the living room. Course, I bought the furniture at a flea market, but still. _

"You know you love them, Sunshine."

_  
I took a nap in the new bed. I slept better than I have in weeks. It was so easy to imagine that I was in your bed at the loft. To imagine that you were just in the kitchen getting water and would soon return to fuck me into the mattress. Not today, but soon. Just eight more days…_

I hated that Justin still considered the bed at the loft mine. Not ours. He was the only man I'd ever _had _in it whose name I knew…who I cared about.

Day 24

_Hunter came by in the evening to tell me that he managed to find the framed picture you were looking at. He photographed it for me. Imagine my shock (and delight) to see your naked figure staring back at me. Apparently, you bought it from the GLC show. I can't believe you never told me you were the one who bought it. Were you afraid that I'd feel less talented if I learned someone I knew had purchased it? Or, more likely, were you unwilling, even as recently as a few weeks ago, to admit how quickly you had fallen in love with me? _

Yes and yes. I had to hold onto some part of my dignity.

_We reminisced about my early stalker days. _

Those were bittersweet memories.

_I even asked her about Hunter. She said she thinks he's cute and funny. When I asked if she thought he was hot, she lost the ability to speak coherently and desperately tried to change the subject. _

"Come on, Daphne," I said out loud. "I thought you had better taste. I mean, I guess there's something to Hunter, but he's not hot. If he is, he's still nowhere near Sunshine hot."

_I think I need to have a chat with Hunter._

Ditto.

Day 25

_Less than a week left until your birthday. I'm so excited that when I think about it, I have trouble breathing. I wonder if you were as nervous the second time you proposed. _

Yes. In fact, I'd been so nervous that I had difficulty believing anyone could have been as nervous as I'd been that day. Still, Justin was kinda sweet (big grin).

Day 26

_They went shopping while I lay in the bed I bought for us, gazing at the gardenia screen and fantasizing about our reunion. _

I drawled, "Have no worries, Sunshine. Once we ditch the family, I'm gonna rock your fucking world."

_Later, I made a few sketches of Daphne and Hunter from the pictures I had taken on cleaning day. I gave them each one. They seemed happy. Especially Hunter. The sketch I gave him actually rendered him speechless, if you can believe it._

Yesterday, I never would have believed it.

Day 27

_I had the jeweler engrave it, though it was hard because it's an open knot ring (as opposed to a solid band with knotwork placed or engraved on top). It reads, "U R my heart (the shape, not the word)."_

I took the ring off my finger for the first time since Justin had slipped it on and looked at the inside. I was stunned. I blinked away tears as I slipped it back on. My fingers lingered for a moment or two.

Day 28

_Today, Daphne surprised me with a beautiful pale turquoise cashmere sweater for the party. She thinks I should wear it with my white jeans. They make my ass look incredible. _

I thought, "They really did. You could have saved yourself the trouble of a heartfelt speech if you'd simply bent over. But…I'm glad you didn't."

Day 29

_I spent hours trying to put my feelings for you into words. I want the proposal to be perfect. But how do you express feelings verbally when those feelings transcend words? I ended up painting most of the day. It was like I was possessed. I couldn't stop until I managed to get everything out onto the canvas. I have never been as pleased with any of my paintings before. I hope you like it. Who am I kidding? I want you to love it. I want you to know, without me saying a word, exactly what it means, exactly how I feel about you._

I scanned the room until I saw a huge red canvas that I just knew was the one I was hoping to find. I walked over to inspect it more closely. I was incredibly nervous. It hit me then how much pressure I had always put on Justin. I had expected him to know how I felt and what I was saying by the way I touched him…kissed him…looked at him. No wonder he ran off with the fiddler. It must have been a relief to not always need to be translating…not always reading subtext.

The red was not a single color or texture. It was comprised of so many shades of red and textures that I couldn't count them all. That was his heart. On top of the red, there were lines of other colors…What the heck? I took a few steps back and stared. Fuck! The lines of color formed a picture…of me. It wasn't obvious, but it was there. There had to be a pattern to the colors. After a few minutes, it began to take shape.

White=Innocence and worship (Our first night together)

Purple=Sensuality, envy, pride, arrogance, and mystery (Our first year)

Yellow=Joy (The prom)

Black=Pain, sadness, and death (The bashing)

Brown=Stability and confidence (My helping Justin recover)

Purple= Sensuality, envy, pride, arrogance, and mystery (Our second year)

Gray=Decay (Our first break up)

Purple= Sensuality, envy, pride, arrogance, and mystery

Yellow=Joy

Orange=Warmth and playfulness (the purple, yellow, and orange=Our third year)

Black=Pain, sadness, and death (The cancer)

Green=Rebirth, hope, and harmony (My recovery, our fourth year)

Gray=Decay (Our second break up)

Black=Pain, sadness, and death (The bombing)

Pink=Love (My saying "I love you")

Purple=Sensuality and mystery

Yellow=Joy

Pink=Marriage (The proposal and wedding plans)

I think Justin was saying that the night we met, I had taken root in his heart, eventually becoming such an integral part that our separation was unthinkable.

Justin's POV

I walked into my workspace and was shocked to find Brian staring at the painting representing my feelings for him. Without realizing it, Brian had been voicing his thoughts aloud: his description of the red background, the revelation that the lines of color formed a picture of him, what those colors symbolized, and what it all meant. I couldn't believe it! He knew, without me saying a word, exactly what it meant, exactly how I felt about him.

Brian must have sensed my presence because he turned around. I flashed him a million-watt smile and jumped into his arms, kissing him with such passion that I could feel him trembling.


	8. Day 31, the Party

Brian's POV

I had no idea why, but after Justin had seen me looking at one of his paintings, the one representing his feelings for me, he took a running jump into my arms. Then, he started kissing me passionately. The depth of that kiss was staggering, so much so that my body started to shake.

Suddenly, we were shocked out of our passionate embrace by Mikey's scream. We pulled apart and looked at each other puzzled. Then, I set Justin down and we went out into the main room to learn what the 'ruckus' was about.

Hunter was glaring at Mikey. "What's the big deal?"

Mikey sputtered, "She's like 4 or 5 years older than you!"

"So? Brian is 12 years older than Justin, and they're engaged!"

Mikey wheeled around glared at Justin and I. "You! You and your bad influence!"

I looked at him incredulously. "What's your damage, Heather? You should be praying that Hunter and Daphne are serious about one another. She's a daughter-in-law most would kill for. Sweet, intelligent, kind, devoted, funny, pretty…"

Daphne beamed. "Why thank you, Brian!"

I smiled at her. Her best quality was that she was my biggest fan, outside of Justin, of course.

Ben approached Mikey and said, "Honey, I think you're just in shock. Seeing your child get physical with someone is much more difficult than simply knowing it happens."

Mikey looked down, deflated. He nodded. "I think you're right. I'm sorry Daphne."

"It's ok."

Justin nudged me and whispered, "Do you think they were fucking?"

I shrugged.

I asked, "So were you two kids fucking or what?'

Everyone but Mikey, Ben, Daphne, and Hunter chuckled at that.

Daphne blushed and lost the ability to speak coherently. "No, we were….we were…well, we weren't, you know, doing it."

I shot her a tongue-in-cheek expression and asked, "5 years you've been hanging out with fags, and you still call fucking 'doing it'?"

That had everyone but Daphne laughing.

Molly piped up, "Justin, didn't you and Daphne do it?"

Both Daphne and Justin blushed, and Justin started setting the food buffet-style on a table. I wondered where it came from. It wasn't here 45 minutes ago.

Hunter was staring at Daphne, waiting for her to say something, and Jen was looking between Daphne and Justin, confused.

I answered Molly for Justin. "Yes, Molly. Justin fucked Daphne."

She asked, "So…he's bi?"

I burst out laughing, and Jen spit out a mouthful of the wine she was drinking.

Daphne explained, "Look…I wanted to lose my virginity to someone who cared about me, so I asked Justin if he would…you know…as a friend."

Hunter shook his head in disbelief and looked at Justin helplessly. "First Brian and now Daphne…dude, tell me how I'm _not_ supposed to hate you."

Justin shrugged and smirked.

The food successfully distracted everyone.

I complimented the jambalaya and asked if he'd made it a day early, which had Justin beaming.

Jen said, "You know I taught Justin how to make jambalaya."

I replied with a knowing smile, "So I heard…"

Then, Justin assaulted me with a burning cake, or so it appeared there were so many candles on it.

I stated indignantly, "I'm not a dog!"

He smiled. "There aren't that many candles!"

The little twat even got people singing me the happy birthday song.

Then, he patted me on the back and said, "Don't forget to make a wish!

A wish. I can't remember the last time I'd made a birthday wish. I shot Justin a "give-me-a-break" look, but my resolve softened when he nudged my nose and kissed me gently on the lips. So…I closed my eyes and made a wish, the first one I could think of, a wish I was too ashamed to ever share with anyone, "I wish that Justin would never me leave again." It was completely selfish and lesbianic, but that's what I wanted the most. I hadn't realized that Justin had come up behind me, so, when I started blowing out the candles, I was a little surprised to find Justin's arms around my neck as he leaned over and helped. All the candles went out in one go. I shouldn't be too surprised. He'd always helped make my wishes come true before. (Christ, kill me now!) Then Justin kissed my cheek.

I refused a piece of cake, but had a few bites of Justin's. That made him smile. Next up was present time. I wonder if Justin (or his minions, Daphne and Hunter) had told everyone to get me something because Justin was usually the only one to get me a present, but, this time, everyone had gotten me one.

Emmett gave me a huge red dildo. Jen shielded Molly's eyes and, then, covered her ears as well when Emmett explained, a bright smile plastered on his face, "Now that you are getting up there in years, I thought you might need this for Justin…He is a much younger man, and you don't want him straying when you can't rise to the occasion."

I glared at him but, then, smiled when Justin wrinkled his nose and purred, "If that were ever to happen, which I highly doubt (thanks so much for that, Sunshine), I'd rather just wait for the real thing. Brian's much bigger." (when had he got so good at lying? The dildo had to be at least an inch longer than mine and was a bit wider)

Everyone's eyes widened.

Ted gave me a penis-shaped stress "ball." That gave everyone a chuckle.

Mikey and Ben gave me a huge framed copy of the cover of the issue of Rage where JT is sucking him off.

Molly complained, "Mom! Are you going to cover my eyes for the rest of the party? I want to see Brian's presents."

Jen sighed in exasperation. "I'll uncover them soon, honey. Soon."

Deb and Carl gave me a shirt that read, "I love blond boy ass!" I smirked, patted Justin's ass, and said, "You know me so well, Deb!"

Hunter gave me a collar and a leash with a note. "So you don't lose your man again."

It was Justin's turn to exclaim, "I am not a dog!"

But his righteous indignation quickly disappeared when I stood up, facing him, placed it around his neck (but not fastening it), and whispered, "You'd look HOT in this and nothing else."

We started necking but were rudely interrupted by, well, everyone…they were all shouting some variation of "get a room."

Daphne gave me a set of photographs (of varying sizes). They were all of Justin. Justin painting, a cute silver smudge on his cheek, Justin sleeping in the middle of the living room on what must be his new bed, Justin sitting in a pile of clothing, looking frazzled (choosing an outfit?), Justin just out of the shower (now, we were talking!), Justin covered in suds, but fully dressed (Had Daphne ambushed him with a sponge?), and so on. She must have taken them over the last month.

I was taken aback. It was such a thoughtful gift. I whispered thank you as I hugged her. She blushed. It's good to know that some things never change. Hunter glared at me, which gave me a chuckle.

Molly, Jen, and Tucker gave me two tickets to Italy. Jen explained, "This was going to be your wedding present. When Daphne confided that Justin hadn't really left for NYC, I thought…maybe…"

Justin was so happy with the gift that he wasn't even mad at Daphne for telling Jen his secret.

Finally, it was Justin's turn. He gave me the painting I had been looking at when he found me earlier, which drew ooos and ahhs, though I knew they had no clue what they were looking at. Then, he handed me my laptop.

I quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

But I was floored when Gus appeared on my screen, exclaiming in a singsong voice, "Happy Birthday, Daddy!" Turns out, Justin had sent Mel and Linds a webcam and microphone for their computer and had attached the same to mine.

I pulled Justin into my lap and kissed his cheek. This was definitely the best birthday I'd ever had. All thanks to my Sunshine.


	9. Day 31, the Wish Game

Justin's POV

Brian was still talking to Gus, but everyone else had gone. I had cleaned up a bit, but, now, I was lying on my new Japanese platform bed, gazing at golden gardenias, in ivory, orange, and yellow, the symbol of forever, of eternal love. I was so nervous. The night I'd been eagerly anticipating for a month was finally here. It's not like Brian and I hadn't been separated before…we had been, way too often, but, somehow, this reunion was different. Just a month ago, we had been facing an uncertain future, one lived mostly without each other, but, now, we were engaged. I was here, in Brian's life, for good. The thought thrilled me and frightened me at the same time. I was still a little afraid to trust in my happy ending.

Brian walked in and sat on the bed. I lifted my head up in surprise. I was even more surprised when he suggested, "Let's play a game."

Puzzled, I asked, "A game?" Sometimes, we played 'games,' but they were always sex games, and we never actually called them that. So I had no idea what to expect.

"Yeah. It's called 'I wish.' It's easier to show you how to play than it is to explain, so make a wish, and I'll respond. Then, we can start playing for real."

Even more puzzled now, I said, "Okay. Ummm…what should I wish for?"

"Whatever you want. But don't limit yourself to what's possible. Think of a wish you've had for a long time."

I winced as I one such wish came to mind. "I wish… I wish I hadn't been bashed. Then, I would remember the prom."

Brian didn't even blink. He said, "Okay. So in this game, I would respond…'But if you hadn't been, you and I wouldn't have started living together, not then anyway. I wouldn't have had the pleasure of coming home to you every night…of being the only man you kissed…of really being in your life.'"

Oh. God. I blinked away tears and kissed Brian's lips softly. Then, I gently rubbed my lips against his, just enjoying the feeling of our lips touching. That seemed to inflame Brian; he suddenly threaded his fingers in my hair and pulled me closer, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth and pulling me even closer, ever closer. Soon, we were making out hot and heavy. Then, as quickly as it started, it ended.

Brian pulled away and said brightly, "My turn."

I was still dazed from the kiss, which seemed to give Brian a giggle. That was rare when he wasn't high, but it did occasionally happen. At such times, I liked to think he had a 'Justin high.' I couldn't believe that Brian-Fucking-Kinney was choosing to talk rather than fuck…or, more specifically, to put off fucking for talking. Obviously, he had something he felt he needed to say to me, but couldn't just come right out and say it.

Brian continued, "I wish…I wish you hadn't left me for Ethan, or, rather, I wish I hadn't let you leave."

That was a buzzkill. He looked so sad. Almost as sad as the night before I left last time. Did this wish have a double meaning? Was he wishing he hadn't let me leave last time? Or at all?

I swallowed hard and responded, "But if you hadn't…I wouldn't have seen what incredible changes you were capable of…I wouldn't have known what it was like to lose you and could never have loved you as deeply as I do now."

Brian pulled me into his lap and kissed me desperately, just like he did our last night, to keep from crying. Afterward, he wrapped his arms around me tight. I guess he wanted me to stay where I was.

Brian smiled weakly and said, "Your turn."

I was planning to wish for something that might help Brian say what he needed to say, but I couldn't help but make a wish for me. "I wish…I wish you had told me about the cancer right away."

Brian looked stricken for a second, but recovered quickly. "But if I had told you…I would never have believed that you were taking care of me because you wanted to."

I looked at him in shock. "What?"

"I threw you out of the loft, but you came back. You came back." He lost his train of thought for a moment, as though the mere fact that I'd returned still amazed him.

But then, he continued with a soft smile, "You made me rest, fed me soup, and made me drink awful tea…but when you weren't ordering me around, you were smiling. You really seemed to want to be there, as much as you did before I got sick…before the surgery. It was similar to my brief stint with poverty. I didn't think you'd want to be around then, either."

He seemed to want to say something he couldn't put into words.

"You didn't think I really loved you, not the luxury or the image, just you…but after the Stockwell incident and the cancer, you knew."

Brian looked down.

I asked, "Is that why you asked me to move back into the loft after that?"

He nodded but didn't look up.

I said incredulously, "I always thought it was because you'd had to face your mortality…"

Brian looked up and smiled a little. "Nope. There you go again…treating me like a 'normal' person…"

Brian smiled. "My turn again. I wish…I wish for us to live at Britin."

My eyes widened. "You didn't sell it?"

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth and shook his head slowly. Then his eyes met mine. "How could I sell the country manor I bought for my prince?"

I swung around on his lap so that our bellies, and other parts, were touching and wrapped my legs around his waist. Then, I started laying open-mouthed kisses all over his neck…his face…and his lips, which, of course, turned into toe-curling French kisses. In our fervor, we fell over, first, with me on top. I started grinding him (that is, his erection) with my poor aching cock, which had been alternating between half-erect and painfully erect since the game began, well, since I found him in my workspace, if I was honest.

Brian flipped us over so that he was lying on top and asked, still panting from our kissing and rubbing, "So…do you want to live at Britin with me?"

I loved that he still called it that. "Mmm…"

I tilted my head and looked up at the ceiling, pretending that I was contemplating, but, then, I looked back at him quickly, flashed him a million-watt smile, and answered, "Yes!"

He squeezed my erection through my jeans and grumbled, "Little fucker…"

Then he moved his hand away and sat up. When I groaned, he said, "That's for teasing me. Your turn."

Half of me wanted to wish we could stop playing the game and start fucking, but I couldn't stop the man when he was offering to talk. "I wish…for a huge, no, a ginormous wedding…a grand celebration. I did, after all, bag the stud of Liberty Avenue, when everyone said it couldn't be done."

Brian's amusement faded, and he looked at me with expressionless eyes. Fuck. I was so worried about his reaction that I couldn't even breathe. After what seemed like an eternity, he laid down next to me, turned my face toward his, gently nudged my nose, and whispered, "I wouldn't have it any other way, Sunshine."

I laughed and pinched his nipple. I cried, "You had me so scared! Asshole!"

He laughed and tried to cover his chest to ward off further attacks, but, when that didn't work (as evidenced by the squeals that I elicited whenever I hit my mark), he grabbed my hands and laid them on the bed above my head and, then, straddled me. I attempted to wriggle free, but Brian had me on lockdown. How familiar did that sound? I couldn't help but giggle.

Brian, a little exasperated, but still smiling, explained, "I can't just give in right away…otherwise, you'll know just how much you have me wrapped around your little finger."

My slight annoyance vanished immediately, but my playfulness didn't. I arched my back a little so that my still erect cock made contact with Brian's. I'd caught him off guard, and he moaned softly. I smiled brightly.

He rolled off me, again. Sigh. More talking.

I played nice, sitting up and offering sweetly, "Your turn."

Brian's eyes lost focus. He said hesitantly, in almost a whisper, "I wish…for us to be monogamous."

I asked incredulously, "You want to stop tricking?"

He nodded.

I asked, "Why?"

Brian laughed and shook his head. "I never thought you'd ask me that."

I wrinkled my nose and agreed, "I know. Whatever I said, I always wanted this for us…I just never thought it would happen, and, now that it might, I'm a little worried."

Brian just stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, but, then, asked, "About what?"

I looked down and replied softly, "That we might fizzle."

He chuckled, "Fizzle?"

I shrugged. "I mean, we've always been insatiable, but what if that was because of the tricking…because I was jealous and not exactly secure in my position in your life…because sex used to be the only way you could show me how you felt?"

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth but, then, met my gaze. He sighed. "You're treating me…and us…like we're "normal" people again. Have we suddenly turned into trolls? Or aged 30 years?"

I laughed and shook my head.

I looked down at the bed and, then, back up at Brian and asked quietly, "What if you get bored with me? I mean, you're used to fucking, what, 3-6 different men a day besides me?"

Brian sighed heavily, pulled me into his lap so that I was facing away from him, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my neck gently. Then, half against my skin, he admitted softly, "Other than the stupid contest with Brandon, it hasn't been that many in a long time."

"What??"

He took a deep breath and then said, "I wanted you and everyone else to think I was the same as always, but…things were different after we got back together, you know, after Ian. At first, I tricked and made sure you knew it because I wanted to put up a wall…to protect myself and, maybe, to hurt you a little…I was still so…hurt (he looked down and lowered his voice almost to a whisper as he said this) and angry that you'd taken up with the fiddler and left me for him…"

My chest suddenly felt hollow, and my hands started to tremble as I blinked back tears.

He continued, "But…then I was just so happy that you were back…that we were together again…I don't know, I just had the urge to trick less, much less. Sometimes, not at all."

I swallowed hard. I couldn't even speak.

"So…I don't think you need to worry about me getting bored with you or our passion fizzling…I'm not saying that we won't need to get creative sometimes…but we aren't heteros, dykes, or Stepford fags…we aren't like anyone else, so we are unlikely to have anyone else's problems."

My entire body was trembling now. Brian turned me around in his lap so that I was straddling him, stroked my cheeks tenderly, and, then, sent his lips crashing down onto mine. As he pulled me into his arms and kissed me so passionately that my body was on fire even as I shivered, I found myself in the strange position of thanking all that is unseen for Chris Hobbs, Ethan, and Brian's cancer, thanking whomever/whatever that we were us. This wasn't our happy ending…it was just another of our beginnings…life would be bumpy, scary, and filled with more passion than I could ever have imagined before meeting Brian under that streetlamp five years ago, but it would never be boring and it would never end…

Later…


End file.
