


New York Vs Pittsburgh

by RavynRose



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-01-21
Updated: 2007-02-12
Packaged: 2013-11-02 13:05:13
Rating: M
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,974
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3353656/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/881690/RavynRose
Summary: Brian and Justin have decided not to wed, post episode five thirteen. Justin has just arrived in New York, Brian remaining in Pittsburgh to attend to Kinnetic Inc. Will they stay together, or will the distance only pull them apart?





	1. Chapter 1

Brian Kinney smiled as the cell phone in his overcoat's pocket began to vibrate. He knew, without even so much as bothering to remember he had caller i.d., that it was Justin Taylor on the other line.

In as true a Brian Kinney manner he could, he casually pulled the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, his greeting that of his last name and Kinnetic.

"Hey, Bri." Justin's voice flowed to Brian's ear, causing him, almost regrettably, to smile even more.

"Hey, Sunshine." Brian said casually, leaning back in his chair, running his free hand through his free flowing brown hair.

"I was beginning to think you were never going to call." he teased, eyes grinning mischievously.

Justin chuckled on the other line, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"We had a commitment. You know I don't fall back on commitment." he retorted, falling back onto his new apartment's couch, resting his free arm above his head, crossing his ankles on the arm of the couch.

Brian suddenly found himself frowning, missing Justin more from hearing the depth of his sexy voice.

When Brian didn't reply to Justin's statement, Justin cleared his throat into the phone.

Brian shook his head, as if coming out of a trance, or some form of hypnosis, and looked down at his lap.

"I..." he began, not knowing where to go, how to say everything he wanted to. It had taken more than enough out of him to simply tell Justin that he loved him. How was he to say he missed him, that he wanted nothing but to be by his side, lying in the comfort of the loft's bed?

Justin nodded as he heard Brian speak, cradling the phone as close as he could to himself.

"I know." he said softly, knowing that it was hard for Brian to show affection, let alone speak it.

Brian sighed, missing his Sunshine more and more with each unspoken word.

He bit at his lower lip as silence overtook the pair, yet again.

"You don't have to tell me you miss me, Brian. I know you do." Justin spoke for him.

Brian laughed heartily.

"Quite confident, there, aren't you?" he teased, raising his eyebrows in amusement as Justin so obviously grinned at his response.

As Justin began to speak again, his roommate entered into the apartment.

"Justin, I need to borrow your phone." he said.

Justin rolled his eyes.

"Again, Marty?" he asked, growling low in his throat.

"You're shacking up with a _Marty_?" Brian asked, amused.

"Behave." Justin warned, glaring up at Marty, who had begun to tap his foot impatiently.

"I have to go." Justin said into the phone's reciever.

Brian frowned.

_So soon?_ he thought.

"I'm sorry, Brian, I really thought we'd have the time to catch up." Justin apologized, speaking sympathetically.

Brian smiled, again, at Justin's kind words.

"Gotta do what you gotta do." he spoke, tapping his right hand on his desk.

"I'll call you tonight, Brian. Love you." Justin said, pausing before hanging up, hoping, almost praying, that Brian would respond.

But, in true Brian Kinney manner, Brian did not, simply uttering his goodbye and shutting the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Brian**_

As soon as I hung up the phone, Cynthia walked into my office, her blonde hair shining brightly in the sun that basked through the old steam room's windows.

"Morning, Cynthia." I said cheerily, smiling as she gave me a crooked smile.

"Morning, Brian." she sent back, setting a pile of papers upon my desk, to my demise.

"The Rockham Foundation's proposal is due today, Brian." she said, eyes narrowed.

I cursed inwardly.

"Fuck, Cynthia, I don't have it ready." I hissed.

Cynthia smiled sympathetically, brushing her hair behind her ears.

"I figured. That's why I called them and they're pushing back the time until tomorrow." she said with a grin.

I looked up at her, silently telling her thank you.

She only smiled and disappeared out the door, sticking her head back in a few seconds later.

"Tell Justin I said 'hi', next time you talk to him, will you?" she inquired, my response being a simple nod.

"You need anything, Brian?" she asked, noticing my change in temper.

I shook my head negatively.

"Thanks, Cynth." I said with a nod, watching her disappear again.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms tightly across my chest, letting out a long sigh.

The office phone rang, much to my dismay, and I growled, deciding to answer it only upon its fourth ring.

"Kinnetic Inc, Brian Kinney, speaking." I said hoarsely, clearing my throat as the person on the other line began to speak rapidly.

I nodded, only half listening to the voice, picking up on 'due dates' and 'deadlines'.

When I realized the man on the other line had paused, I recognized that he was waiting for a response to a question I hadn't even heard.

Shaking my head, I spoke softly.

"Mr. Davidson, I realize the account was due two days ago, but..."

But what? What could I say? My boyfriend, only not in name, had run off, leaving me to my lonesome, something I did not want to admit no longer being used to?

I cleared my throat and began again.


	3. Chapter 3

"I truly have no reason or excuse legible for my haphazardous behavior." I concluded, rubbing at my forehead as my client announce his leave from the company and abruptly hung up on me. 

I leaned forward, my head in my hands which now rest at the elbows on the desktop, growling low in my throat.

"Fuck."

_**Justin**_

Within seconds of handing my phone to Marty, I began to regret it. He would probably only run up my bill, talking for hours on minutes I didn't have.

Pulling myself to a sitting position on the couch, I let out another long, exasperated sigh.

I found myself wanting nothing more than to be with Brian, wanting nothing more than to have him inside me, screaming out my name as we both reached our orgasms.

Biting at my lower lip, I rolled my eyes, chuckling slightly at my thoughts.

Was this what it had resorted to? My wishing for something that I could easily have, had I chosen to stay behing in Pittsburgh?

I remember the look on the faces of my family when Brian and I announced the wedding had been pulled away. Sheer shock and utter stupidity shined greatly upon their faces, especially that of Michael.

Shaking my head, I remembered Michael pulling me to the side, asking me, _Whose choice was it?_.

Reaching out to him, touching him gently on his right shoulder, I had replied, _Both of ours._

That was a lie.

Neither of us had really chosen to end the wedding. The wedding had chosen to end itself. Everything was being thrown at us, my new job offer in New York, Brian's company increasing in stock funds...it was almost as if the wedding were never meant to be.

In true Brian Kinney manner, Brian had suggested that it was a sign that our _love_ wasn't meant to be.

I had wanted nothing but to slap him at that moment. How dare he suggest such a thing? Five years, we've gone through turmoil, through thick and thin, and he had the nerve to suggest that because of _two_ dis-opportunities, that our love was forbade?

I remember looking into his eyes as he said that, not wanting to believe that was what he thought.

And as I looked into his eyes, I saw the truth.

He really did love me. Far more than he would ever tell me, ever show me.

But it wasn't enough for me to say.

As I looked around my new apartment, restlessly running my right hand up and down my right leg, for the millionth time since boarding the flight to New York out of Pittsburgh, I found myself wanting Brian.

"Fuck."

_**Brian**_

Sliding the loft door open, my first instinct was to call out Justin's name, announcing Kinnetic's new client.

As I set my briefcase down, I realized I could no longer do that. Justin wouldn't hear me. He wasn't here.

"Hey, Brian." a voice came from my room.

Looking up, I couldn't help but laugh as Michael came into view, his hands working quickly and sturdily to make my bed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I inquired, making my way over to the room, leaning against the wall's frame, crossing my hands on my chest.

"What does it look like? I'm flying a spaceship to Mars." Michael retorted sarcastically, finishing his task with the fluffing of my pillow.

When he looked up at me, I raised my right eyebrow in question, to which he only shook his head, pushing past me, heading into the living room, where he began re-assembling the pillows on the couch.

Sighing, I followed suit, reaching out to him, placing my hand comfortingly on his right shoulder.

"Mikey." I whispered, my eyes following his as they did everything but look at me.

"Michael." I tried again, this time more sternly.

With a gentle shake, he finally looked up at me, his eyes beginning to water.

"He's in the hospital again." he said quietly, swallowing deeply, as if his throat held a rock in it.

I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it.

Michael shifted his gaze from me, turning his head to the side as he used his arm to wipe away his tears.

As I opened my mouth to speak, Michael shrugged out of my grasp, my arm falling roughly to my side.

"Don't. I'm _not_ strong enough. I can't do this anymore!" he exclaimed, falling to the couch, placing his head, forehead first, into his palms, sobbing.

I sat down softly next to him, placing my hand on his back, running it up and down in the only form of comfort I felt capable of doing.

"I can't go back home." he continued, rubbing his face against his palms.

Sighing, I looked around the empty loft.

"Stay here." I suggested.

He looked up at me, eyes much like that of a deer caught in the headlights.

I couldn't help but smile at his surprise.

"Who're you doing this for, Kinney? Me? Or you?" he asked, eyes filled with suspicion.

When I didn't reply, we both knew the answer, quite vividly.

"I can't fill the hole Justin left, you know that." Michael whispered, reaching out and cupping my chin in his hand.

I curled against the palm of his hand, biting at my lower lip.

"He didn't leave a hole." I said through gritted teeth.

"He left yours." Michael teased, smiling gently.

I laughed softly, closing my eyes, enjoying the comfort of Michael's warm hand.

After a moment of silence, Michael pulled his hand away, causing me to open my eyes and wonder where the warmth had gone.

"You _need_ me to say?" Michael asked

I shook my head. I didn't need anyone but myself.

He continued to look at me, as if expecting me to change my answer.

He leaned in, kissing me softly on the lips, pulling back, standing, grabbing at his jacket, and heading towards the door, looking back to me, sending me a comforting smile before slipping out.

I leaned back against the arm of the couch.

I should have asked him to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Both**

Justin was awakened by the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand.

Rubbing at my eyes, he glanced at the clock. Two a.m.

Growling, he grabbed at the phone, not even looking to see who was calling, flipping it open and bringing it to he ear.

"What the fuck do you want?" he hissed.

On the other line, resting comfortingly in his bed, Brian chuckled.

"Hello to you, too, Sunshine." he teased.

Justin growled again, rolling over onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow, holding the phone against his ear.

"Brian, it's two in the fucking morning." he said hoarsely.

Brian looked down at his watch, jaw dropping as he realized that Justin was right.

"I didn't notice." he admitted.

Justin laughed.

"Late night at Babylon?" he inquired, turning back over onto his back, resting his free hand on his chest.

Brian shook his head.

"I wasn't at Babylon." he replied.

Justin narrowed his eyes, almost dropping the phone.

"You weren't at Babylon." he repeated.

"When did you become a parrot, Sonney-Boy?" Brian asked, cocking his head to the side.

"It's just..." Justin began.

He took a pause, slyly smiling before beginning again.

"When was the last time you even _went_ to Babylon?" he questioned without haste.

Brian snorted at Justin's bravery. That was a daring question, indeed.

"Last night, if it's any of your business." he said snootily.

Justin smiled brightly.

"Really? How many hot guys did you fuck?" he taunted.

Brian rolled his eyes, pulling the phone away from his ear, reaching over to the set and placing it onto speaker.

"And why is that any of your knowledge?" he asked, turning onto his side, resting his head on his right hand.

When Justin didn't reply, Brian spoke again.

"None."

Justin remained silent.

Brian frowned, leaning over the speaker.

"Sunshine?" he asked softly.

"I'm here." Justin replied.

Brian laughed.

"I'm just...none?" Justin repeated.

Brian rolled onto his back, laughing, yet again.

"You really have become a parrot." he managed through laughter.

"I'm not a fuckin' parrot, Bri!" Justin shot back angrily.

Brian and Justin let out sighs at the same time, annoying them both.

"So...none? Really?" Justin asked after another moment of silence.

Brian shrugged.

"Really." he replied, pausing, and then quickly adding, "But I had my eyes on a few."

Justin breathed in deeply.

"So, why didn't you fuck their brains out?" he inquired gently.

Brian let out another sigh.

"Sunshine..." he began, finding himself interrupted by Justin.

"It's because you love me." Justin teased.

"You _so_ love me!" he went on, mimicking his own words to Brian when Brian had shown concern over his application to Dartmouth, an out of state college, four years ago.

Again silence followed.

"Why are you calling so early, anyway?" Justin asked.

Brian found he had no answer.

Justin smiled timidly.

"I missed you, too." he said, speaking Brian's thoughts aloud.

"Ben's in the hospital, again." Brian said.

Justin frowned.

"Oh, no. Is he going to be okay?" he inquired.

Again, Brian didn't speak.

"How's Michael doing?" Justin continued on.

Brian laughed.

"He cleaned the entire fucking loft today." he replied.

Justin chuckled. Michael had always had a strange way of dealing with reality. While other queers went out and had an all-night fuckathon, Michael spent the whole night, and sometimes day, cleaning his friends' living quarters.

"Less work for me when I come for a visit." Justin suggested.

Brian grinned.

"You're not coming for a visit, Sunshine. You've got your work and your new life in New York. Why on earth would you want to leave New York for _glorious_ Pittsburgh?" he said anally.

"Brian, why are you being such an asshole?" Justin asked, angered at Brian's lack of sympathy.

Brian sighed.

"Don't say you're sorry. You and I both know sorry's bullshit." Justin warned, sitting up fully in his bed.

"Are you saying you don't _want_ me to visit when I get the chance?" he continued on, running his free hand through his hair.

"That's not what I'm saying, Sonney-Boy." Brian insisited, reaching to the phone and taking it off the set, holding it, yet again, to his ear.

"Then what _are_ you saying? I _should_ come visit?" Justin asked, biting at his tongue.

"God damnit, Justin, are you really that transparent? Of _course_ I want you to come visit, but you know how I feel about sacrifice. What I _don't_ want is you leaving the wonderous life you have, the wonderous life that you just _gained_, for me. I want it to be on _your_ terms, not mine." Brian replied.

Justin remained silent, surprised at Brian's open response.

"I have to go. I've got work in a few hours. Goodbye, Sunshine." Brian said, slamming the phone onto the reciever, growling as he threw himself onto his stomach, at the same time Justin did in New York, both of them letting their anger out in stifled screams.

_**Justin**_

"I'd like to request some personal time off." I said to Mr. Scots, my boss.

Mr. Scots looked up at me from his desk, his eyes narrowed.

"How _much_ personal time are we talking?" he questioned.

I swallowed, leaning back in the guest chair, not catching Mr. Scots' eyes.

"Two weeks." I replied.

Mr. Scots cleared his throat, causing me to look up, finding him shaking his head.

"Mr. Taylor, I cannot grant you two weeks of personal time when you _just_ got here." he retorted.

"You don't understand, Mr. Scots...I _need_ this time." I said through gritted teeth.

"And why is that, Mr. Taylor? What is it you _need_ to return to? A girlfriend?" Mr. Scots said snootily.

I chuckled.

"You could say that." I replied, biting at my lower lip, gripping at the chair's arm.

"One week." Mr. Scots amended.

I nodded.

"Or nothing." he finished.

I held out my hand as he roughly grasped my hand.

"I'll take it." I agreed, smiling brightly, letting his hand go and practically skipping out of his office.

I kicked open the door to my office (_my_ office!), smiling as I saw Daphne sitting in my desk chair.

"Daphne!" I exclaimed, rushing to her and enveloping her in my arms from behind.

"Hey, Justin." she said brightly, turning slightly and kissing me on the cheek.

I remained around her, resting my head atop hers.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, kissing her hair.

"What? I can't visit an old friend?" Daphne teased, spinning around in the chair, pulling me into a straddling position atop her.

I leaned in, resting my forehead against hers, pecking her on the lips, stretching my arms around her neck.

"You doing okay, Jus?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"Could be worse." I replied.

She laughed.

"Worse? Wake up, Sunshine, you've got your own fucking office in _New fucking York_. What's bad about that?" she exclaimed, swatting at my shoulder.

I chuckled.

She smiled slyly.

"What's bad is Brian's not here, huh?" she asked.

I nodded, blushing against my oh-so-pale skin.

She reached out with both hands, resting them on either side of my face, pulling me forward.

"He hasn't said anything about visiting?" she asked, patting my cheeks and letting me go, making me wonder what the point of doing such was.

I snorted unintentionally.

"Right. Brian Kinney, visit the non-love-of-his-life." I retorted plainly.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, let's get lunch." I said, not wanting to discuss things further.

I slid off her lap and held out my hand, helping her to stand, followed her to where she had hung her coat, and led her out of the office, and then out of the building.

Walking down Ernst Avenue, Justin pointed interesting locations out to Daphne.

"And that is New York's finest gay club." he said, pointing to _La Boheme_.

Daphne's eyes widened, taking in the small size of the building.

"You're kidding me." she exclaimed.

I shook my head.

"Nope. Once you get inside, though, it's quite large. Has three backrooms, each with a different decor to them." I replied.

She laughed, pausing as we stopped in front of Jacobson's Deli.

I reached out and held the door open for her, walking in after her, smiling as the guy at the front counter nodded my way.

"Hey, Justin. What's up, my brother?" he, otherwise known as Mason, asked me, holding out his hand for a childish hi-five, into which I supplied.

"Not much, man. Oh, this is Daphne, by the way." I said, peeling my eyes away from his, introducing Daphne, who held out her hand and did a weird handshake with Mason.


	5. Chapter 5

I smiled at Mason when he caught my eyes again. 

"What'll it be? Turkey, lean, on Rye?" he questioned, his eyes seeming to do me the once over.

I nodded, glancing towards Daphne.

"What'll it be, Daph? It's on me." I asked, using my peripheal vision to pick up on Mason still looking at me.

As Daphne began to speak her order (AKA wanting one thing, and then changing it seconds later), I found myself giving _Masong_ the once over, noticing his firm body, toned muscles, and gorgeous eyes.

And the hair. You can't forget the hair. Black, chin length, wavy, yet, probably, smooth as silk.

Shaking the thoughts away, I reached into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet and paying Mason, casually leaving him a three dollar tip, even though Jacobson's had a strict rule against tips.

I led Daphne to his favorite seat by the window and slid into the booth across from her.

"He's cute." Daphne spoke, drumming her fingers along the table top.

"I hadn't noticed." I lied.

Daphne cocked her head to the side in curiousity.

"Uh-huh." she spoke.

I glared at her, eyes narrowed.

"I didn't." I insisted.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Justin, this is _me_ you're talking to. You noticed the first day you stepped into the Deli." she snarled.

I blushed, again, growling low in my throat.

"What's stopping you?" she asked, reaching out and placing her hand tenderly on my arm, which now lie on the tabletop.

I snorted.

"Don't tell me Brian's stopping you. Justin, it's _Brian_, Mr. ManWhore of Liberty Avenue!" she continued on.

I bruskly pulled my arm away from her touch, sending her a viscious glare.

"I'm sorry if I insulted you, Justin, but do you seriously think that Brian, all alone in QueerVille, is going to remain _faithful_?" she questioned, making me even angrier.

"You don't know him like I do, Daph! He's changed!" I exclaimed, ignoring the looks of the customers around us.

Daphne laughed.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure." she retorted.

I slid out of the booth, placing myself inches from her face.

"You want to know how many men he fucked last night at Babylon? **_None_**, Daphne, **_none_." **I snarled, shaking my head and turning away from her, storming out of the Deli, snarking at Mason who attempted to hand me my food.

_**Brian**_

"So, what's the count this week?" Debbie asked as she poured me a cup of coffee, placing it in front of me.

I looked up at her, eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?" I sneered.

Debbie threw up her hands in defense, palm first.

"It was a joke, Brian." she said defensively.

I smiled smugly.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Novotney." I crunched out.

Debbie looked at me intensely, placing her order pad on the table and staring at me.

"When was the last time you talked to Justin?" she questioned.

I raised my right eyebrow at her.

"It's just that...every day that you _don't_ talk to him, you get cranky." she concluded.

My only response was to continue to stare at her.

She shrugged, picking her order pad up and slinking past the counter and going about taking someone's order.

I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out my cell phone.

Pressing one, Justin's speed dial, I brought the phone to my ear, sliding off the stool and making my way to the front sidewalk, leaning against Liberty Diner's wall, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, placing one in my mouth and expertly lighting it with my free hand, placing the pack and lighter back into my jacket pocket.

"Hi, you've reached Justin, I'm currently not available, leave me your name and number, and we'll fuck...er, talk...later." his voicemail spoke to me.

I couldn't help but to chuckle at his brilliance, as I had everytime I got his voicemail.

"Hey, Sunshine. Deb was talkin' about ya, so I thought, why not? So, here I am. Guess you're busy, work, Daphne, whatever. I'll talk to you when you get some free time." I said, clicking the phone shut, sighing again.

Just as I pulled away from the wall, my phone rang, signalling ringtone being that of Justin's.

I smiled as I flipped open the phone and brought it back to my ear.

"Took you long enough." I teased, smirking.

I heard him chuckle, and pictured him lying on his bed, naked, fresh out of the shower, getting ready to go to work.

"Sorry, I was in the shower." he shot back.

I know my Sunshine too well, sometimes.

"How was it?" I whispered sexily, knowing that if I placed just the right emphasis and accent in my voice, I could have him hard in seconds flat.

He laughed heartily, taking a pause, a pause I knew was accompanied by him nibbling on his lower lip in that sexy manner that turned me on.

I taught him well.

"It's too early in the morning, Bri." he sulked.

I raised my eyebrows, falling back against the building's wall.

"It's _never_ too early in the morning for** that**." I teased.

"You were always quite agile for your age..." he began, pausing when I growled low in my throat.

"And you _weren't_ for **your** age." I taunted back.

"Hey, now, that's not fair!" he exclaimed.

"Aww, honey, I'm sorry." I teased, emphasising the term 'honey'.

He must have been drinking something, because he spit it out, assumingly all over the phone.

After a moment's silence, I tossed my cigarette to the side.

Looking around, I spoke.

"I miss you. God, Sunshine, I miss you _so_ much." I admitted quietly.

Swallowing, I cleared my throat when Justin didn't reply.

"I'm sorry, Bri. I'm hear...I'm just..." he began.

I flushed. I don't flush.

"I miss you, too, you know that." he finished.

"Every second of every day I'm not with you..." he started again.

I smiled, breaking another rule of mine: Finishing his sentences.

"Is like a part of me being slowly ripped away?"

He snickered.

"How many rules have we broken, now, Bri?" he asked teasingly.

"All of 'em. No regrets?" I questioned more than stated.

He nodded.

"No regrets." he concurred.

I was about to say something when he spoke again.

"Daphne stopped by earlier this week."

"Oh? How is my darling little angel?" I asked.

He snorted.

"I wouldn't know. We didn't talk much. In fact, I think the furthest we got was her calling you Liberty Avenue's King Whore." he replied.

For a second, I was angry. Not at the offense Daphne spoke, but that Justin's voice seemed to show doubt in my true nature.

"You sound doubtful, Sonney-Boy." I said softly.

"No! No, Brian. Not a doubt. Never a doubt." he said unconvincingly.

"Sunshine, I _am_ being faithful to you, as much as you don't want to believe it, I haven't touched a soul since you left a month ago. The only one being fucked here is my right hand." I threw at him, growling slightly.

"I never said I _didn't_ trust you, Brian!" he shot back at me.

"You didn't have to." I managed to croak, my throat constricting on me.

"Brian..." he began.

I couldn't talk to him any longer.

"I've got to go, Justin." I said, using his real name, something he only knew me to do when I was angered.

I slammed my phone shut and threw into my pocket, leaning back and banging my head, accidentally, on the brick of the building, cursing silently.

_Brian Kinney_, I thought_, you're an ass._


	6. Chapter 6

_**Justin**_

It had been a week since I heard from Brian. Even when I was with Ethan, there wasn't a day that Brian and I didn't talk.

I had really pissed him off this time.

It wasn't that I didn't think he was being faithful to me...it was that I didn't _want_ him to be. It made me feel uncomfortable. Take the stag party Michael and Emmett and Ted gave for Brian. They had hired this gorgeous stripper. Perfect body, perfect eyes, and, most importantly, perfect penis.

Brian had turned him down. For me. To be with me, even after I granted him permission to blow the stripper's head off...literally!

Two nights later, as I was sliding down his body to give him a blowjob, he had inquired as to whether I would rather cuddle than have sex.

You heard me. Cuddle!

Brian Kinney wanting to cuddle is the day the apocalypse comes.

That was the evening the wedding was naturally called off.

I love him, I do. He knows it. I know it. **_Everyone_** knows it.

I needed to see him. I needed to prove to him that I wasn't doubtful of his faithfulness.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out the plane ticket I had bought and looked up from the seat I was sitting in at the airport lobby.

In two hours, I would be with my lover.

If all things went as permitted and planned...

_**Brian**_

When I exited the elevator shaft and looked forward, I realized my loft's door was open.

The only times I leave my door open is...never.

Cautiously, I tucked my keys into my jean's pocket and slid open the door, peering around.

Everything was still in place, the television set, my furniture, nothing stolen.

Setting my briefcase down on the floor and hanging my coat up, I looked to the left and saw Justin behind the kitchen counter, stirring away in some pot.

My jaw almost hit the floor.

What the fuck was he doing here? Why hadn't he called me? What the fuck?

It was all I had to prevent myself from pouncing on him right there and peeling his clothes off of him, blowing him next to the stew he was brewing.

He turned to me, smiling in the manner that was the reason behind his nickname, setting the spoon down to the side and wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

"Hey." he said tenderly, walking my way, making his way into my arms, reaching up and running his right hand through my hair.

I pulled him close, wrapping my arms around his back, breathing in the scent of him.

"When did you get here?" I asked, kissing the top of his head.

He rested his head on my shoulder, breathing out the breath he probably hadn't known he had been holding.

"About an hour ago. I called Cynthia, and she said you were in a meeting, so I figured you'd want something to eat when you got back." he replied.

I snarled, pulling back, resting my hands on his shoulders.

"You're right. I _do_ want something to eat." I began, running my right hand down his left arm softly, causing him to shiver.

I leaned in and said sensually, "But it isn't stew that I want."

He blushed crimson as I began to nip at his neck, running my tongue in just the right places, causing him to grip at my back tightly.

He craned his neck to the side, offering me more skin as I ran my hands under his shirt, pulling it upwards.

"Stop." he croaked.

I pulled back, startled.

"Slow. We need to take it slow." he went on.

I cocked my neck to the side in question.

"I want it to be more than just a fuck." he explained, running his right hand up and down my chest.

I smiled.

"You really _are_ my sunshine." I stated, grabbing at his hair and pulling his lips to me roughly, crashing down on him with a fervor I remember only ever feeling when we first kissed.

I pulled back again, spreading my arms out beside me, winking at him.

"So...are you coming and going? Or coming and staying? Or coming and _then_ going?" I questioned.

He chuckled, remembering our first night together.

He slid his shirt off and walked slowly towards me, both of us replaying said first time in our minds.

As he wrapped his arms around me, taking his lips in mine, devouring them almost hungrily, I ran my hands up and and down his back, moaning into his mouth.

He ran his tongue along the roof of my mouth, causing me to shiver.

He was the _only_ one who knew how to get me shivering, moaning and...God...begging.

"I missed you." he managed in between kisses, running his hands through my hair as I backed our clinging bodies towards the couch, falling back on it, letting him fall on top of me.

"Less talking, more undressing." I instructed, placing my hands on his crotch and squeezing his straining-dick.

He fell forward against me, biting at my shoulder, surpressing a moan.

"Damnit, Bri..." he exclaimed, sliding my shirt off of my body, his hands quickly working their way to my belt, unfastening it quickly.

He slid his hand to my crotch, giving it a slight squeeze, sending my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

It had been too long, _far_ too long.


	7. Chapter 7

I let my head fall to his neck as he began to run his hand up and down my shaft, wrapping his fist around it sensually.

To prevent myself from moaning _too_ loudly, I bit gently at the nape of his neck, smiling softly as I felt him shiver, wrapping his free arm around my shoulder, gripping at my neck tightly as he began to work my cock expertly.

God, I had taught him so well.

It was then I realized the banging I was hearing wasn't my heartbeat, but someone banging ferociously at the loft door.

Growling, I pried myself away from Justin's arms, despite his protests.

Slinking towards the door, I slid it open, my eyes narrowed in anger and heat.

"What do you want?" I asked before I saw that it was James Hunter Montogmery, otherwise known as Hunter.

His eyes were swollen from what I assumed to be tears, and he was shaking uncontrollably.

Reaching out to him, I wrapped my left arm around his shoulder, pulling him into the loft, leading him to the couch, where Justin now sat, looking up at me, questioning me, to which I could only shrug.

"Shut the door." I instructed to Justin, who nodded, lifting off the couch.

I sat Hunter down and calmly ran my hand up and down his back.

"Hunter, what's wrong?" Justin asked as he walked back over.

I shot a look at Justin, shaking my head, mouthing, 'Don't'.

He nodded, letting out a sigh as he slid onto the couch's arm, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Ben's still in the hospital." Hunter began.

I nodded, rubbing his back, encouraging him to continue.

"Michael hasn't been home in days." Hunter went on.

I felt Justin's eyes shoot to mine, but I refused to meet them, trying to maintain my calm.

"What do you mean, sonney-boy?" I queried.

Hunter bit at his lower lip before going on.

"I'm scared shitless. These are the only two people who have shown me the love my mom never could! I've been at their apartment, on my own, for a few days now."

He looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I've called the cops, I've called the hospitals...Brian, I can't find him!" he exclaimed.

"Shh, Shh." I whispered calmly, reaching out and pulling him to me, letting him wrap his arms around me, rest his head on my shoulder, sobbing.

"Did you call Debbie?" I asked slowly.

I felt him nod against me.

"Why did no one call me?" I pushed on.

Hunter pulled back, jaw open, no words coming out.

"Wait, better you don't answer that." I constructed, chuckling slightly, despite the situation at hand.

"I can't stay at that apartment any more. It's too quiet...too lonely. I got used to the...noise." Hunter said with a blush.

I smiled a little, the boy sure had spunk.

"You wanna stay here?" Justin offered, speaking as if the loft weren't mine, but _ours_.

I liked the feeling of that.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Justin**_

The minute Hunter appeared at the door, I could tell something was wrong.

I had never expected it to be about Michael.

Michael was always the strong one of the family, the one there for Brian when I was bashed, the one there for Debbie when she was ill, and always there for Vic.

When Hunter admitted to not wanting to return to the apartment, I knew what I had to do.

"You wanna stay here?" I asked, not looking at Brian, who scowled.

Hunter turned to me, blushing, as he had earlier.

"I wouldn't want to infringe." he replied.

Brian cleared his throat.

"You wouldn't be. Stay here, as long as you need. Our home is your home." he said, placing emphasis on _our_.

He looked towards me, smiling slyly, obviously seeing if I had caught said emphasis.

"Thanks. I just can't go back there. Not until they're _both_ back." Hunter replied.

He looked to Brian for a brief second, as if debating something internally, and then pounced on him, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Brian looked almost startled, but instantly shifted into father mode, caring for Hunter as he would Gus.

"How'd you get here, by the way?" he asked, as Hunter pulled back, flushing.

"Taxi. 'cept...I didn't pay him. I didn't have the money." Hunter replied.

Brian scowled again, but found Hunter speaking before he could.

"I swear, I didn't do _that_. I gave him an I.O.U. He said he had been to your building so many times, he was sure he'd see me again."

I smirked towards Brian, chuckling slightly.

Brian glared daggers at me, showing his teeth as a wild animal would.

"Why don't you shower, and then we'll go grab some of your things from the apartment, Hunter." Brian suggested, slapping at Hunter's ass as he stood and headed towards the bathroom, sending us a smile before he shut the door behind him.

I wiggled my eyebrows as I slid onto the couch, crawling over to Brian's lap and straddling him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Underneath it all, Mr. Kinney, you're not half bad." I teased, leaning in and kissing his earlobe.

He visibly shivered underneath me, the way I like it.

He slid to a lying position on the couch, pulling me close, keeping me on top, and in control.

I was the only one Brian allowed to top him. Ever. Even when we weren't _committed_, Brian was always the one on top, the one in control. 'til I came along. Me and my devilish ways.

I pulled away, looking down at him, licking my lips, running my left hand slowly down his stomach and into his pants.

He arched up into my grasp, moaning, closing his eyes in a content fashion.

I leaned back in, growling into his ear, running my hand up and down rhythmically.

"You like that?" I whispered a-la-Kinney, nipping at his neck.

He was so hard. So hot. So ready.

He craned his neck to the side, catching my lips in his feverishly.

Slowly, I let my tongue slip into his mouth, running it sensually along the roof, pulling my hand from his pants, quickly catching his arms above his head, grinning into his mouth.

"Tonight is for you, Brian." I said slowly, holding his hands above his head with my left, and sliding his pants to his ankles with my right.

"What about Hunter?" he asked in between kisses.

I pulled back, smiling mischievously.

"Nothin' he hasn't seen before." I replied, leaning in and kissing him on the nose before making my way downward, still holding his hands above his head.

I kissed each nipple lovingly, running my tongue expertly around them.

He arched into my mouth, and I pulled away, wanting this to last.

I kissed my way down to his naval, pausing and looking up towards him when I reached his cock.

He smiled, as if to say, 'Sonney-boy, if you don't blow me now, I'll blow myself.'

Just as I went to take his dick into my mouth, my cell phone began to vibrate in my back pocket.

Brian scowled beneath me, groaning slightly.

"It might be my boss." I countered, reaching into my back pocket, pulling out the phone, falling to rest against Brian's bare thigh, and bringing the phone to my open ear.

"What's up?" I inquired.

Brian, who's hands I still held above his head, squirmed beneath me, his knee bumping against my cock, making it twitch.

"What do you mean they canceled the show?" I exclaimed, eyes shooting up towards Brian's, who looked down at me questioningly and lovingly.

"Oh. I see." I went on, frowning.

"Okay. Than-thank you for calling me. I really do appreciate it. I'll be down to pick up my things in a week." I said calmly, flipping the phone shut and settling back against Brian's thigh, holding back tears.

I hadn't realized I had let Brian's hands go, nor did I particularly care. He ran his right hand through my hair tenderly and calmingly.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

I sniffled against his thigh.

"I just got fired."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Brian**_

"I just got fired." he replied hoarsely.

I continued to run my hand through his hair, not knowing what else to do.

"Some hot new twink came into play, putting a great deal of competition into the firm." he went on, sniffling again.

He looked up at me, frowning.

"I was told before I left that someone was coming in. Someone with this great deal of potential. I left three hours ago! Mr. Scots knew he was coming. That's why he let me leave. That's why he granted me the rare time off." he snarled.

I remained silent, not knowing what to say, despite knowing the silence killed him.

It was all I could not to ask if he was going to continue what had been going on earlier. I pushed back such a thought, pushed back Brian Kinney, bringing forth caring boyfriend, caring lover.

"You'll find work at another firm. A better firm." I inisisted, resting my hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at me and falsely smiled.

"There are no better firms, Bri." he whined.

The bathroom door was then heard opening, and Hunter's footsteps trailed towards us.

I glanced to the side to find he had slipped on my silk robe, and growled low in my throat.

Justin followed my eyes and chuckled.

"Looks good on you, Hunter." he managed, his voice still numb and calm.

Hunter twirled, showing it off.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, eyes falling on Justin's placement against my bare thigh.

Justin snorted.

"Not anymore." he croaked.

"Hey, Brian, why don't you pick something out for Hunter to wear? I need to call my mom." Justin said tenderly, nodding towards my room.

I snarled at Justin.

I shot a smile towards Hunter and sighed, slipping off the couch, patting the boy on his back.

"C'mon, hotshot, this is the one time you'll ever wear Gucci or Armani." I teased, leaning back towards Justin and softly kissing him on the lips.

"Tell Mother Taylor howdy for me." I said with a wink, leading Hunter towards the bed, sitting him down on it and opening up my dresser drawers, holding out a hand towards it.

"Dig through." I suggested.

He stood slowly, eyes widening at my selection of clothing.

"Holy Shit." he murmured.

"Brian Kinney's slice of heaven." I commentated, smiling as Hunter began to dig around in my shirts.

He was being so careful with them, as if not wanting to take a chance in wrinkling them.

The little bugger was smarter than he looked or acted.

He pulled out a tight, black tanktop, admiring it.

"You like?" I queried, reaching out and holding it against him, smiling.

"A little long, I'm afraid." I spoke, pulling it away and putting it back in the drawer.

I dug through the drawer and settled on one of Justin's old shirts, back from when we had first met. He had left it behind the night he came 'home' with me from the hospital.

It was symbolic, but at the time, I didn't know of what.

He didn't know I still had it. I don't even think he noticed a shirt of his was missing.

I threw it at Hunter, who caught it mid-air.

"I don't know if I have any pants that'll fit you." I admitted, shutting the drawer.

I heard Justin walk up and turned, finding him leaning against the wallframe.

"How's Jenny?" I teased.

He shrugged, his eyes wet with tears.

I looked to Hunter, biting at my lower lip.

"Get dressed. We'll head to the apartment in a bit." I said, walking over towards Justin and wrapping myself around him.

"You'll find another job, Justin. A better job." I insisted again, running my hands up and down his back.

He sniffled into my shoulder, taking in a deep breath, not letting it go for seconds.

"Maybe I was never meant to be this great artist." he whispered, letting out another long breath.

I pulled back, shocked.

"You don't mean that!" I exclaimed, eyes widened.

Justin threw his hands to the side, escaping my grasp.

"Look at what has happened, Brian! I gave up _everything_ for this job. My family, my friends, my _lover_, and for what? To find my ass fired two months later?" he screamed, his face red from anger.

I shook my head.

"Justin, would you listen to yourself?" I hissed.

I reached out to him, grabbing him on both shoulders.

"It's just _one_ job. There are _plenty_ more out there, waiting for you to come into their line of vision. But you can't do that if you're walking through life with your eyes closed, your _mind_ closed." I insisted, giving him a slight shake.

He rolled his eyes.

"What if it just happens again? What if I give up everything only to see faults again? I don't know if I can do that!" he cried out.

I shook my head, turning away from him, scowling.

"I don't want to lose you again, Brian!" he said softly.

I looked back towards him, swallowing.

"You never lost me. I'm right here!" I exclaimed.

We had been through this conversation before, neither of us wanting to go through it again.

It was the exact conversation that had caused the wedding to be nonexistent.

If we went further, would it end the relationship we had forged?


	10. Chapter 10

_**Justin**_

I swallowed, shaking my head again, breathing deeply.

"Brian, Jesus..." I managed, walking over to his bed and falling down upon it, throwing my hands into my lap, looking everywhere but at Brian, who was trying to catch my eyes.

"I don't know what to say, Brian. I just don't know." I admitted, wringing my hands together in a fist.

Brian kneeled in frot of me, catching my hands in his, pulling them apart and wrapping them around his waist, leaning against the bedframe.

"Don't say anything, then. You don't have to decide things now. You just recieved the news. Breathe a little before launching into some tirade, Sonney-boy." he said tenderly, leaning in and awkwardly kissing me on the forehead.

I smiled slightly, gripping his hands tightly.

"Lie down. Rest a little while I take Hunter back to the apartment." he suggested, kissing me softly before pulling away, turning to Hunter, who was standing at the end of the bed, looking at us expectantly.

I nodded at him, falling to my side on the bed, wrapping the sheets around myself.

He smiled and chuckled, leaning down and kissing me roughly, quickly making his exit, dragging Hunter along with him.

I curled up against the sheets, letting out a prolonged sigh.

I closed my eyes, blinking back the tears.

I was not going to cry like some little fucking faggot.

My cell phone rang. I reluctantly answered it.

"It's all right to cry, you know." Brian's voice echoed through the reciever.

I laughed.

"Brian, you just left, not two seconds ago!" I exclaimed.

I swear I heard him smile.

"You won't be some _fucking faggot_ for crying, Justin." he continued.

I paused. That was the first time he'd said my name in a while. I was usually Sunshine, or Sonney-Boy.

"Oh, yeah, and I'm sure _you_ cry when things get bad." I teased.

There was silence on the other line, proving my assumptions wrong. Brian Kinney did indeed have emotions.

As if trying to hide our conversation from Hunter, who I assumed was sitting beside him in his Corvette, Brian shocked me for the billionth time in our relationship.

"You don't know how much I _do _cry, Justin. I cried so much when you were bashed, I was sure I wouldn't have any tears left in my system. But when Babylon was bombed, I found out how wrong I was."

I couldn't find the words to say to him. I felt a tear slide down my cheek, feeling the freedom to let it go.

"Thanks, Bri." I whispered.

I smiled as I hung up, the tears starting to flow.


End file.
